Why does he have to be smart, on top of everything else? And how can I put my thoughts and feelings into words, when I can’t put them in order in my own head?
“You freaked me out,” I say. “Everything… It’s all too much. But if the bond has formed—I don’t know how to finish this sentence.” I’m leaning against his kitchen counter, in my bra and jeans, trying to explain why I’ve accepted that we’re now both immortal and meant to be together forever.
I purse my lips and take my time twisting water off my hair into his sink. I can’t meet his gaze, as he comes to stand in front of me. “Everything you said, everything you are, scares me, but you don’t scare me. This feels right. And if I focus on this, I don’t have to think of the big picture. I don’t have to remember that Olympians fucked around in mythology—”
“Not all of them.”
His tone brooks no argument, but I continue as if he didn’t speak. “—and I don’t have to wonder how much of these… feelings I have are reciprocated. I can live this for however long it lasts.”
Dionysos scowls, and I scowl back.
“Woman, didn’t you hear the part about the bond entailing my loving you for the rest of my life?” He shrugs, like it’s no biggie. “I love you. It blindsided me, but it’s true.” He holds his hand out, and I take it and let him intertwine our fingers.
His voice is a caress in my head. “Let go.”
And I do.
The sun shines bright above us, as Dionysos slants his mouth over mine. I squeeze my eyes shut against the glare, but his smile is burned on the back of my eyelids. It’s the smile of a man in love. A happy man. The man who cleared away the clouds fogging my mind, took me by the hand, and led me into the light.
Birds chirp on the trees surrounding our clearing. They sound as happy and free as I feel. The grass tickles my bottom when he helps me lie back. I spread my legs, and Dionysos kneels between my thighs.
“You’re more intoxicating than wine.” He kisses a path from the valley between my breasts to my navel. “Sweeter than nectar.” His stubble scratches the tender flesh of my inner thigh in the most delicious way, before he gives it a playful bite. “Divine.”
“I love you.” I mouth the words, because I’m afraid of saying them aloud. They may shatter this bubble he’s created around us the days we’ve been alone on this island.
He says big words all the time, and I let him. I smile when he says I’m the only woman he’s ever loved, and I believe him in that moment, but when he sleeps at night, I crawl on top of his body and press my ear to his chest, and pray that he really is different and he won’t leave me here alone and lost, like…
I shoo away thoughts of that bastard who passes himself off as a hero, and tangle my fingers in the silken curls of the Olympian teasing my pussy with his tongue.
This is where I belong. Dionysos is my home.
I blink, and the island is gone, but the bubble is still here.
So is Dionysos.
I pull him to me, and when our bodies press together, wrap my arms and legs around him and kiss him like it’s the only thing keeping me alive.
“I love you,” I scream in my head. “Can you hear me?”
He chuckles into my mouth and thinks back, “Loud and clear.” He closes his hands over my ass and twirls, and we’re in his bed. “Never had another woman up here,” he mumbles against my belly, as he pops the fly of my jeans.
The denim won’t slide off as easily as my top did, and he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Why won’t the fucking thing just get out of the way?” he asks the ceiling.
When he looks at me again, the jeans are gone. He woots, and tears off my boyshorts with his hands.
“That was my move,” I say, lowering his zipper.
“Hold on. I got this.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and his jeans disappear too.
We need to figure out where our clothes went, but it can wait, because the most gorgeous male in existence is naked above me, and about to eat me out.
But that’s not what I need right now. “I want you inside me.”
“Don’t you want to fool around a little first?” He licks along my hipbone. Grazes it with his teeth.
I shake my head. “The past two days—Hell, the past few lifetimes—have been foreplay enough. “Please tell me you have condoms. Please?” I mean, Olympians were very fertile the first time around, better not risk it.
He nods and blinks out of sight, only to half land on top of me a few moments later with an oof.
“Careful, you’ll crack my ribs.” But he won’t, because I’m freaking immortal now.
“Sorry. You okay?”
I take a page out of his book and think my bra off. It takes three tries, and I’m about to unclasp it manually, when it disappears. I fold my arms behind my head and ask, “Do I look okay?”
Dionysos takes me in from the top of my head, to my unpainted toenails. “You look perfect.”
His cock digs into my belly. He rolls to the side, and I see the precum leaking from the tip. I gather the pearly drop with my fingertip and bring it to my mouth, and his eyes burn into me while I lick the digit clean.
Under my watchful gaze, Dionysos sleeks his fist along his shaft a couple times, before fitting the rubber over the tip and rolling it down.
I lick my lips and sway my hips as he crawls between them. Why do I want him so much?
“Because we’re meant for each other.” ” His answer fills my head, resonating with its truth.
He holds his shaft to my entrance, and I instinctively squeeze my thighs around his hips. “Please be gentle.” Shit, I sound pathetic. “It’s been a while, and—”
“Shh…” He strokes my hipbone with his thumb and rocks closer slowly, so his erection barely enters me. “Let me love you.”
I don’t know if he said that or thought it, but it’s all I need to relax and gingerly pump my hips into his shallow thrusts.
Dionysos cups one breast and squeezes. His hands are large and rough, and I can imagine him squeezing wine out of grapes. His touch sends fresh ripples of desire to my core. I gasp when he pinches my nipple between index and middle finger and twists, pain and pleasure mingling to short-circuit my brain.
I arch my back, and Dionysos drives forward in one long, slow thrust. He stretches me almost to the point of pain, but I’m so wet, the discomfort only lasts a couple minutes. When he doesn’t move, I pump my hips. He slides out of me slowly, friction stoking the fire burning in my belly since he kissed me in the rain. He lunges forward again, and I hear myself moan. It’s long and guttural and feral, and unlike any sound I’ve made before.
He takes his time driving in and out of me. Fills me up perfectly, and then leaves me yearning until his next thrust. I clench around him. “Faster. Harder.” It’s like his cock was created for my pussy. Perhaps it was. There’s a lot I don’t know about this bonding thing.
“Stop thinking.” Dionysos circles his hips on the down stroke, nudging something inside that gives me a full-body tingle.
I’m looking for an appropriately smart-assy response, when his mouth latches on my clit. Which is impossible, when he’s laying a trail of openmouthed kisses down my neck. And sucking on my nipple.
This fucking-an-Olympian thing is pretty amazing.
He bites my shoulder. “This isn’t fucking.”
Potato, po-tah-to. “Oh, I’m sorry,” I think at him, eyeroll and all. “I meant making love to an Olympian.”
The next moment, we’re upright, and my back is against the wall.
“This is fucking.” Dionysos pounds into me so hard, something cracks. Chips of plaster fall on my hair, his fingers are bruising on my thighs, his cock relentless inside me, and still it’s not enough. I want him to fuck me raw.
He takes me harder, until my legs are trembling, and my head rolls back, and the ball of fire in my belly erupts into lava that turns my fears and insecurities and reason to ashes. He is my home. He is my everything.
As my release ebbs and I can form words again, I say, “I love you.”
Dionysos seals my lips with his, his hips pistoning against me until he shudders and jerks and drops his head on my shoulder. “Forever,” he says in my head. And then, “Maybe in ten I can love you in my kickass bathtub.