Page 42
Story: Descent
“Are you saying you want to…spend the night with me?” Her expression changes, her eyebrow arching.
“Maybe I do.” I shrug. She might drive me nuts, but the other night was…“About as much as you want to punch some sense into me.”
“You’re right. I do,” she spits out.
The twitch of her shoulder muscles is the only warning I get.
Her lunging strike brushes my cheek as I dodge it, barely slapping her hand out of the way, spinning her and launching her across the room. She twirls with the motion, graceful as a fucking ballerina, launching herself back at me from another angle. It’s a devious leap, both of her knees bending back, her fist raised to strike. The kick firing off from her left foot almost takes me by surprise.
Fortunately, the couch catches me as I fling myself to the side, bouncing up in her wake and snatching her around the waist, body-slamming her down on the cushions.
That should be the end of it, but my breath explodes from my chest as both of her feet lift me off mine. How the hell did she move like that?
No time to think, I try to roll back into a flip, catch my heel on the coffee table and tumble. As soon as my back hits the ground, Circe lands with her boots planted at my sides.
So, I promptly shove them out from under her, landing her on top of me.
Chests heave in union, pressed together. Our entire bodies line up, her legs straddling me, her fingers unintentionally laced through mine.
A split second freezes, our eyes locked.
Then she claims my lips, tightening her grip on my hands, squeezing her thighs together around me. That’s when I realize that I’ve been rock-hard since the fight started. That I’m fevered and raging and out of my mind with desire.
It’s an afterthought to the maelstrom of hands fumbling at clothing, ripping my shirt open, tearing her T-shirt completely in half.
Her lips are searing, branding my skin as she unleashes herself on me, the two of us grunting, gasping, writhing. Circe rises over me, casting off the remnants of her bra, stretching her arms high and giving me an eyeful.
Her breasts are full, large for her frame, perky and perfectly shaped, complementing her well-toned and muscled body. Seeing them in the light for the first time, seeing her in all of her glory…
I lift us off the floor with barely an effort, locking my arms around her. Her legs loop around my hips as I slam her into the wall, clattering whatever was on the entry table, shattering a flowerpot, knocking a painting off the wall.
Then we proceed to tear the whole fucking place apart.
10
CIRCE
Ero’s kiss hits me like a fucking sledgehammer to the face.
We’re both blazing hot, gasping, our bodies flushed with a rush of adrenaline and blood. Beyond that, my entiresoulis ablaze.
“Circe…” he rumbles my name.
His touch makes me vibrate, his voice reverberating through me. And goddess, those lips. Every kiss destroys my mind.
To see him in the light makes it so much more intense. This is so unlike the other night, in secret, in the dark. I could hide my intentions. I could lose myself in him for a short time and pretend that it wasn’t real.
Like it was some sort of dream or a fantasy.
Reality is so much better.
Rough, desperate, demanding. I love it.
My body aches for him as much as it aches from fighting off our target earlier that night, from the intense training of the past week. Every time he slams me into the wall, knocks over a table or a chair, it hurts again. So. Fucking. Good.
I welcome each jerk and shove, dealing as much as I get. Soon, both of us are flushed with exertion, our skin scraped with fingernail marks. Definitely going to bruise.
Ero tightens his grip again and I moan into his mouth, biting his lip.
“Maybe I do.” I shrug. She might drive me nuts, but the other night was…“About as much as you want to punch some sense into me.”
“You’re right. I do,” she spits out.
The twitch of her shoulder muscles is the only warning I get.
Her lunging strike brushes my cheek as I dodge it, barely slapping her hand out of the way, spinning her and launching her across the room. She twirls with the motion, graceful as a fucking ballerina, launching herself back at me from another angle. It’s a devious leap, both of her knees bending back, her fist raised to strike. The kick firing off from her left foot almost takes me by surprise.
Fortunately, the couch catches me as I fling myself to the side, bouncing up in her wake and snatching her around the waist, body-slamming her down on the cushions.
That should be the end of it, but my breath explodes from my chest as both of her feet lift me off mine. How the hell did she move like that?
No time to think, I try to roll back into a flip, catch my heel on the coffee table and tumble. As soon as my back hits the ground, Circe lands with her boots planted at my sides.
So, I promptly shove them out from under her, landing her on top of me.
Chests heave in union, pressed together. Our entire bodies line up, her legs straddling me, her fingers unintentionally laced through mine.
A split second freezes, our eyes locked.
Then she claims my lips, tightening her grip on my hands, squeezing her thighs together around me. That’s when I realize that I’ve been rock-hard since the fight started. That I’m fevered and raging and out of my mind with desire.
It’s an afterthought to the maelstrom of hands fumbling at clothing, ripping my shirt open, tearing her T-shirt completely in half.
Her lips are searing, branding my skin as she unleashes herself on me, the two of us grunting, gasping, writhing. Circe rises over me, casting off the remnants of her bra, stretching her arms high and giving me an eyeful.
Her breasts are full, large for her frame, perky and perfectly shaped, complementing her well-toned and muscled body. Seeing them in the light for the first time, seeing her in all of her glory…
I lift us off the floor with barely an effort, locking my arms around her. Her legs loop around my hips as I slam her into the wall, clattering whatever was on the entry table, shattering a flowerpot, knocking a painting off the wall.
Then we proceed to tear the whole fucking place apart.
10
CIRCE
Ero’s kiss hits me like a fucking sledgehammer to the face.
We’re both blazing hot, gasping, our bodies flushed with a rush of adrenaline and blood. Beyond that, my entiresoulis ablaze.
“Circe…” he rumbles my name.
His touch makes me vibrate, his voice reverberating through me. And goddess, those lips. Every kiss destroys my mind.
To see him in the light makes it so much more intense. This is so unlike the other night, in secret, in the dark. I could hide my intentions. I could lose myself in him for a short time and pretend that it wasn’t real.
Like it was some sort of dream or a fantasy.
Reality is so much better.
Rough, desperate, demanding. I love it.
My body aches for him as much as it aches from fighting off our target earlier that night, from the intense training of the past week. Every time he slams me into the wall, knocks over a table or a chair, it hurts again. So. Fucking. Good.
I welcome each jerk and shove, dealing as much as I get. Soon, both of us are flushed with exertion, our skin scraped with fingernail marks. Definitely going to bruise.
Ero tightens his grip again and I moan into his mouth, biting his lip.
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