Page 26

ERO

C irce’s moans send me into a frenzy.

Her hands press harder into the shower walls, shoving back onto me. My head thunks against the tile as I let her jackhammer herself, my arms and legs shaking.

I can’t stop.

I won’t. But my muscles are fatigued, screaming for a break. Yeah, fuck that.

My dick has other ideas. Like fucking the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen into next year. Circe arches her back into the motion, her head hanging between her arms. Hoarse, constant vocalizations of our passion rush from her lips over and again.

Shortly after running for our lives from the owner of the apartment with the pool, we managed to steal a few blankets to cover ourselves enough to catch a cab. I’ve never laughed so hard in my life.

No joke.

I’ve never actually laughed before.

I feel like I haven’t stopped smiling since we landed in that pool, since we gave up our lives to each other. We haven’t stopped fucking either.

“I don’t know if I can…” she whimpers, her ass quivering.

“I know…I know…but my dick my explode if we don’t, just one more time,” I force out between the sopping slaps of her flushed cheeks against my lap. I palm one with a resounding smack, garnering another howl of anguished delight.

“Then do something about it!” she grits out, reaching down to clench my balls in her fist.

Immediately I’m alert again, lust pumping through my veins. Not lust. Love. Longing.

Desire for her. To satisfy her beyond her wildest dreams.

That dizzying rush propels me into motion, dragging her back toward me, bending her over farther, all the way to the floor. She squeals softly as she grabs her ankles, folded completely forward. Where I proceed to angle down into her with wicked pumps of my swollen lance.

It works for a few moments, the two of us rolling in the sensory overload.

Then I need more. I need to end this. I want to finish her off in a way she’ll never forget.

Sweeping her up, I toss her out of the bathroom ahead of me, still dripping wet. Circe giggles at the show of strength, landing with a graceful bounce on the bed.

I’m right behind her, pouncing over her and landing on my extended arms, suspended above her, facing the opposite way.

Swooping my arms down and around, I drop to my knees and bounce back, lifting her with me.

Only she’s upside down, yelping as I slice my tongue down the heavenly divide between her thighs.

Her yelp transforms into a deep-throated gulp, and I find myself weak in the knees, my eyes rolling and my head spinning. I carry her into the living area, feasting on her slick center as I get ready for what’s next.

Circe reaches for the arms of the armchair, using it to lift her upper half. I let her down, sweeping in behind her to let her adjust to the shift in gravity.

Then I promptly kick the chair over onto its back. Circe goes next, tucked over the front of the seat, her ass presented and her legs spread.

I can’t help but to resume where I left off, sampling her sex, tasting the sweet fruit of her juices and mine. My tongue flattens, plowing from her apex, up across her opening. Higher. Across her star, puckered in surprised reflex.

The tip of my tongue twirls, her rear entrance relaxes. Enough to slip a finger inside.

“Ooo…” she sings, wiggling her cheeks in approval.

My thumb is next, easing her into it and imagining my most recent fantasy coming to life. She’s impossibly tight.

Like she can read my mind, she sighs out two words, “Cock. Now.”

Making my sex-ravaged cock throb with the sweetest ache. Rising, I keep knuckling deeper, all the way to the base of my thumb.

Circe’s lips press together, muffling her moans. One hand reaches back, tapping the fabric of the chair, pointing at her suitcase on the couch.

My other hand rummages through the pocket swiftly, finding a bottle of liquid.

Knowing better than to ask why she has lube readily at hand, I dribble the slippery fluid across her ass, massaging it all over her, savoring the feeling of her skin, her glutes.

Arcing inward, I glide against her pucker, fingering some into her bit by bit.

Circe’s eyes flutter, never quite opening, her brow furrowed.

I press myself against that tunnel, my head slick and glistening. Slowly, slowly, I open her to me, my jaw hanging open at the sensation.

Circe hisses, her mouth stretching wide into a silent wail. I wait, letting her acclimate. But she sits back, taking me to the base of my column, her clutch gripping me like liquid latex.

The first few pumps are long. Steady.

Once she’s warmed up, everything changes. Circe’s breathing speeds to a pant as she takes my entire shaft into her forbidden reaches, the lubricant smoothing every plummet in her depths into slippery bliss.

No way I can last.

Fortunately, Circe’s body lets me know she can’t either.

Without warning, she flips over, using the chair to support her acrobatic spin. All while keeping me suctioned to the hilt inside of her ass.

Sweet mercy, this woman!

I take her cues, catching her legs, bending them back. My hips take over for her, spearing into her. Circe’s head falls back. Her arms hook around the base of the chair.

Her silent cries find a voice right as she loses all control of her legs.

“Ooh … Ero come with me!”

She takes all of me one last time and I unleash every remaining drop of cum inside her, my testicles tightening, drained.

I’ve never come so hard in my life.

I know I keep saying that, but…

Our flight lands in New York around midday.

Lunch. A cab ride to downtown.

“Where to first?”

“Uh …”

“Seriously? We came all this way and you can’t even remember where to go?!” Circe gives me a put-out expression.

“Very funny. I just—” Feel totally unsure of myself for the first time I can remember.

She steps in wrapping her arms around my waist. “I can’t decide if I like that look on you, or I love it.”

“What look?”

“Dumbstruck. Baffled? It’s cute.”

“You’re making shit up.”

“It’s called being vulnerable with each other.” Her hand rests against my cheek, guiding my eyes to hers.

“That’s a dangerous word for people like us.”

“Yeah I suppose so. For people in our line of work. But we’re not just in our line of work anymore are we? We’re fighting for our lives now. For our minds.”

“You’re right. Sorry,” I shake my head, looking around.

“Oh my goddess,” Circe backs off a step, looking stunned.

“What?” I say, panicking just a bit. What did I do?

“You’ve never said that word to me before.” She presses her palm to her chest, swooning. “Everyone, he actually apologized to me!”

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” I growl, heading off down the bustling street. Any direction is as good as another.

“And you’re back.”

We wander the streets for a few hours, exploring. I keep waiting for something to jump out at me. Not exactly a great plan.

We agreed what we needed to do first was to track down some hint of my family’s past in New York. Then track down Dom Vipera. Then we can beat some answers out of him before we decide whether we want to obey our orders and kill him.

It follows that we stick more or less to our mission in New York. And it goes without saying that we cannot, under any circumstances, answer a call from Ananke. Still working on how we’re going to pull that off.

At some point in our trek, I feel a nostalgic aura settle over me. Like I’m walking through a memory. Maybe it’s just the sense of the city. Food vendors and shouting New Yorkers. It definitely feels a certain way. Kinda like home.

“What just happened?” Circe grabs my arm.

“Nothing.”

“Your whole posture changed when we passed that bar back there.”

“I don’t know. Reminded me of something. Nights in the city, maybe?”

“You know, before you and I started working together, I went to Greece. Went off mission. Seeing the coast, the culture…it shook a few things loose. Didn’t really know what I was doing at the time, just following a hunch.” Circe offers, pointing me back toward the entrance to the bar.

“You being positive and constructive is almost as unbearable as?—”

“As your face?”

“I was going to say your whole contentious personality, actually,” I grumble, soaking up every second of our bickering.

“Dick.”

“Cunt.”

“Buy me a drink? I have an idea.” She pulls me along behind her.

The first round burns down my throat. The second goes down smoother. By our fourth shot, I’m grinning like my dumb shit brother.

“You know, I saw him in Russia. Ciro. I think that’s why he stopped talking to me.” I’m not slurring. Mostly.

“What?” Circe giggles, waving for another round.

“Even if it wasn’t really him. It’s like…thinking he might be alive messed up my brain.”

“Uh, messed it up more ?!” Circe hands me another shot glass.

“Every time you’re rude, you have to take a shot.”

“If we hold to that you’ll need a gin IV.” She smirks.

“Shot!”

“You’re a mean drunk.”

“Shot!”

“I hate how much I love you.”

“Um … half a shot?”

We stumble from the bar several hours later, the lights of the city twinkling and streaking just a bit to my alcohol-sodden perception. It feels normal. Natural. Like I’ve done it a million times before.

“So you just paid your tab, you step outside. You need to go home. Where are you going?” Circe throws out casually.

My feet are moving before I can process.

“What are we doing?” I ask, swaying.

“Following you. I saw it in a movie one time.”

“Cool. I don’t remember if I’ve ever seen a movie. Oh! Falafels!” I’m slapping down cash and stuffing my face in a flash, wandering along and humming a tune.

“I’ve never heard you sing.”

“Apparently, I’m secretly a virtuoso baritone.”

Absently, I lead on, the directions flitting around my brain. Left. Definitely left. Then right. Straight.

“Do you play any instruments?”

“No clue. You?” The piss-coated bus stop makes me pause, turn a circle. That way!

“Every Lyra is expected to master an instrument,” she responds offhanded, a puzzled look crossing her features. “So I guess I do. Not sure what…”

“Guess we’ll have to go shopping and try them all.”

“Deal. Where are going, Er?”

“My car. Gotta get my car.”

“You’re not driving,” she laughs as I break into a run.

But I’m hyperfocused, intent on getting to my ride. I stop, looking down an alleyway, a garage door at the far end.

“There!” I stare at the keypad on the wall for several seconds. “Do you know the code?”

“Why would I know the code, Ero? Here, let me see it.” Circe steps up, deftly popping the panel off and toying with the wiring. The garage door rattles into motion.

“How did you know how to do that?”

“I taught myself how to open any lock as a kid. Eventually got in trouble with my parents for robbing a couple of banks for fun.” The memory rolls off her tongue while she’s distracted.

“I robbed a bank one time,” I muse, suddenly remembering my own heist.

“Oh yeah, what happened?”

“First time Ciro and me got arrested. Aless was so mad.”

Circe’s melodic laughter fills the darkened space inside the garage. I flick on the light, noting the key box on the wall, a locker by the table at the back. Must be a stash spot for some of my gear. Crazy that it’s still here.

“Wow,” she hums, scanning the jet-black Bugatti parked in the middle of the space.

“That’s what I think every time I look at you.”

Her eyes light up, holding my wavering gaze as she sidles up to me, kissing me deeply. It’s slow, delicious. And a distraction. She swipes the keys out of my hand.

“Hey!”

“You are too drunk to drive.”

“And you’re not? Deceiver!” Sliding into the supple leather seat satisfies something deep inside me.

“I took a few shots.” She turns the engine, both of us nodding appreciatively as the super car purrs to life. “Enough to remember a few things myself.”

“Speaking of remembering…I know where to go.”