Filthy Gods (American Gods 0.5)(26)

“A weak, desperate position.” He seemed to think that over. “I’ll remember that for later tonight.”

“Or perhaps I should give you a taste of your own medicine? See the things Nathaniel Radcliffe is ready to say when he’s the one in a weak, desperate position.”

I approached him slowly, lazily, and loved the dangerously arousing spark in his eyes when he realized I was lowering myself to my knees.

I licked my lips provocatively, knowing all too well what I was doing to him. Unknowingly, he’d challenged me, and I never backed down from a challenge.

I was going to make him come harder than ever before.

He growled, fist curled in restraint and anticipation. “Juliette—”

“Shh…”

His eyes were two pools of red, hot lava as my fingers toyed with the zipper of his pants before pulling it down so, so, so slowly. “It’s my turn.”

My wanton desire was the master of my every move. Desire to please this man that I’d fallen in love with. To tease and lick and suck and kiss every last inch of him until he gave me his all.

When I finally took his hard length out of his pants and briefs, red and angry and beautiful, my mouth watered at the swollen crown. He let out a pained breath, watching me fiercely.

My mouth was nothing but a breath away from him now, so close, but not quite close enough.

“How does it feel to finally have me on my knees for you, Nathaniel,” I said lowly, careful not to touch him. He growled my name out, like a prayer or a curse. One of his hands was gripping the edge of the desk, knuckles white as it shook. His other hand flew to my head, tangling in my hair. He pulled on it, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a point.

“Stop fucking teasing and let me fuck your mouth,” he snapped, but the words held no bite, only consuming, unspent desire. I laughed playfully, sending little puffs of air on his hot, sensitive flesh. When his fingers tightened further in my hair, my tongue finally met with his swollen fat tip. Sliding through his slit before I sucked the head in my mouth. I heard him try to breathe out, but it came out uneven.

“Fuck,” he hissed and tangled his fingers into my hair, gripping it into a makeshift ponytail.

His saltiness filled my mouth and I drew him in deeper, my eyes growing wet with tears. But I didn’t stop. I slid him out, a sticky wet string of saliva and precum dangled from his glistening cock to my parted lips.

He tugged at my hair, glaring down at the sight of his angry red cock and my wet lips.

“That mouth could bring past empires to their knees,” he said lowly, using his free hand to hold himself at the base of his cock. He traced my lips with his head slowly and then he popped just the crown of it into my mouth.

I sucked, my tongue flicking the hot slit again, and then I pulled him deeper, licking the underside of his veiny shaft.

I continued to swirl my tongue around his sensitive head, enjoying his grunts, his moans, his hips arching and thrusting to go deeper, for me to take him to a high we only got with each other. Either debating or having sex.

My vision blurred when he hit the back of my throat, but I forced myself to look up at him. I didn’t want to look away from his warlike glare as he grew vicious and rough, his cock swelling and pulsing with need.

A need only I could satisfy.

The sloshing, the sound of his flesh and my wet mouth filled the room, along with my breathless gasps, his low grunts.

My fingers slid down my thighs and I rubbed them along my hot core, aching to find my release with him.

He caught that and his eyes grew dark and deadly and his hips moved faster, his grip on my hair tight as he used it to go faster.

I moaned around him, humming as my release grew closer.

The smacking of his flesh, the suction of my mouth around him—sent us both over the edge and he erupted in my mouth. Warm and salty and bitter.

His heavy breathing filled the room and I looked up to meet his heated eyes.

Then I swallowed.

“Fuck,” he hissed and gripped my forearms, yanking me up. He kissed me, his tongue plunging into my mouth, tasting himself. He pressed his forehead to mine, sweaty and hot, our pants blending together. “For the first time in my fucking existence, I have no words.”

I laughed, breathless and kissed his open mouth. “I need to get back to work.”

I turned to leave, but his hand wrapped around my arm and pulled me into his embrace.

He stared down at me with soft, warm eyes. Slowly, he kissed my cheek. “You’re just as filthy when you want to be, sweetheart.”

Nathaniel let me go, stuffing his hands into his pockets and I stared back at him. My chest felt heavy, so close to bursting wide open and all because of that damn man.

I turned, left the room before he could see he’d stolen my heart. My fingers touched my cheek. His touch had been soft and gentle and meaningful and I gripped my shirt.

I sank back into the shadows, underneath the staircase and held my breath. I watched Nathaniel leave the room and walk back to the party, his features composed and steeled.

Did he feel the same?

Did he want more?

I moved out from underneath the staircase and rolled my shoulders back.

“Ms. Monroe?” I flinched at the sudden voice and glanced behind me to see Senator Scott looking at me with a smug smile.





“Senator,” I said, catching my breath and plastering on a fake smile.