Goddess of Light (Goddess Summoning #3)(45)

"Wait. Just stand there, and let me look at you." Her gaze traveled down from his eyes that had darkened to sapphire over the rest of his body. Her tongue flicked over her lips before she spoke again. "Phoebus, you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen. God! Look at your skin. It covers your muscles like liquid gold." She shook her head and gave a small, breathless laugh. "Artists should paint you. Sculptors should sculpt you. How can you be real?"

He sat on the bed beside her. "I am real, and what is happening between us is real. How I look is nothing unusual or extraordinary to me." He paused, considering. He had made love to countless women, goddess and mortal alike. Always before he had used the magic of his immortal power to heighten his own pleasure during the act of lovemaking. This time was different. Pamela was different. He hadn't wanted to use his powers to seduce or entrap her, but he wanted very much for her to feel the depth of his passion. He wanted her to know him in a way no other woman had. He touched her as he continued speaking. "What is new and wonderful to me is what is happening within, and the only way I know of sharing that feeling with you is to love you." Gently, he caressed her long neck and let his fingers move up and through the short locks of hair. As he touched her, he allowed some of his immortal power to escape from his hand and to lick through her body. She shivered under his touch. "Let me love you, sweet Pamela. Let me make this real for you."

"Yes." She breathed the word into his mouth.

His hands moved over her body as their lips met again. Her skin hummed under his touch. Pamela had never before felt so sensitized. It was like she had become a living conduit for all of the hot, intense, mind-blowingly erotic sensations she had been missing for years.

His hands moved down her leg, until they came to her foot. His eyes flashed up at her, and then kissed the ankle she had injured the night before.

"I wanted to do that then, you know," his voice was rough with desire.

"You should have," she panted. "I wanted you to."

Phoebus undid the little gold buckle that held the small strap of leather around her ankle, and slid the shoe off. Then he kissed the delicate arch of her foot. Electricity danced up her leg to settle deep in her moist center.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, moving to her other foot. "Tonight I want you to believe that you are a goddess being loved by a god."

She moaned and bit her lip as his mouth moved from the arch of her foot to her calf. He had to be a musician, she thought, when he stroked the inside of her thigh and his lips found the hollow behind her knee. Only a musician could have hands that talented. His touch felt hot, and she melted under his caresses. As his lips followed the path his hands traced up the inside of her thigh, she arched to meet him, gasping in pleasure when his hot tongue delved into her. Her orgasm was so quick and explosive that her entire body jerked in response. Somewhere in the violet haze of passion she acknowledged that it had never happened like that before - never so fast or so intense. Feeling dizzy, she reached out for him, and Phoebus gathered her to him.

"Yes, yes, I'm here, my sweet Pamela," he murmured.

She could feel his heart pounding against her breast. The erratic pace of his pulse matched her own. She opened her mouth and his tongue met hers. She tasted her sex on him - salty and sweet at the same time. Pamela deepened the kiss, lifting herself so that her wet heat was pressed against the hard length of his erection. She reached between them to guide him to her. But she didn't sheath him within her - not yet. Instead she held him there, rubbing his engorged tip against her velvet folds while she stroked him with her hand.

Until she began stroking him, Apollo had been in complete control. He had reveled in the uninhibited way Pamela responded to him, and he had carefully used his immortal power to heighten her sensitivity. He made love to her with his body and his magic. When she found release, he drank in the honey of her ecstasy. But she had a magic of her own, that of a woman's allure intensified by the desire of a god's heart and soul.

"I can not wait any longer." His voice was raw with lust.

"Phoebus..." She breathed his name as she finally guided him inside her and then rose to meet his thrusts so that he buried his entire length within her over and over and over.

Apollo lifted himself so that he could look into her eyes. Heal, the God of Light's soul spoke to hers. Believe that you can love again.

His eyes captured her. She couldn't look away from him. She was consumed by his touch and his scent and the hard heat of him. She responded to him on a level that was deeper than physical. He was touching her, not just with his body, but with his mind, his heart and maybe even his soul. When his orgasm began, he took her with him. She closed her eyes against the intensity of her pleasure, and it seemed that a flash of pure yellow light burst against her closed lids as she heard Phoebus cry her name aloud.

Artemis froze, midsip of the delightful martini she was sharing with the satyr who had served her so well earlier that evening. Like the vanquished Gordian knot, she felt the ties that bound her suddenly slice away. Apollo had done it. The ritual was completed. The goddess smiled and drew a deep breath, pleased that she was unhampered by the clinging emotions of a...

"No." Artemis ground the word through clenched teeth. "This can not be."

"Is anything amiss, my Lady?" The satyr's eyes were wide with concern.

"Be still!" Artemis commanded.