Page 17

LILY

I tossed the bag of coins onto the table when I walked inside the villa. With an audible clank, they smacked against the surface and slid across the wood. It was cold inside the villa because the fire had been out all day, so I tossed some logs into the hearth before I lit it ablaze.

I walked into my bedroom and changed into the clothes I preferred to wear around the house, linen shirts that were several sizes too big and fit like a dress with my knee-high socks. When I returned to the living room, I gave a sudden jerk.

Wrath.

Dressed as he’d been the night before, he was in nothing but those low-hanging trousers, a thick vein protruding from the tight skin. The veins were distinct over his arms too, as well as the backs of his hands. He stared at me with a hint of ash in his eyes—like he was furious.

“Why are you mad?—”

“Because I want you.”

I entered the living room and stepped closer to him, the firelight hitting the corners and casting shadows.

The air was cold, and it would take a while for it to feel cozy again.

I stopped feet away from him, feeling his powerful aura like heat from the sun.

I felt his desperation even though he was a man who never had to be desperate for a woman.

“I don’t know what the underworld is like, but I imagine you could have anyone you want. ”

“I want you.” He stepped closer to me, but he didn’t touch me. His eyes were anxious and angry and full of yearning. A few feet stretched between us, but I could feel his heat like he was the fire in the hearth. “And only you.”

My pulse quickened in my neck, and I could feel it just beneath the skin. My villa had felt cold a moment ago, but now it was warm from the searing heat of his desire. I had plenty of experience with men, but with Wrath, I suddenly felt like a virgin who didn’t know what to do or where to begin.

He came nearer, bringing his face close to mine, his chin dipped so he could look at me. “Do not fear me.” He touched me for the first time, sliding his hand into my hair and pulling it from my face.

A flush spread through my body, a desire that exploded from my core. I’d walked in the door with my thoughts focused elsewhere, but the touch of his palm against my neck made me think of only him. “I don’t.”

He gently swiped his thumb over my cheek, starting at the corner of my mouth before he moved it to the top of my cheekbone.

He looked into my eyes like he was mesmerized by their color.

With arms bigger than my head and shoulders thicker than the walls that built this villa, he touched me with unexpected gentleness.

His eyes moved down to my lips, and he stared at them next, cradling my head differently like he had full control over my body. His fingers stilled in my hair, his stare hungry. Then he dipped his head and kissed me, his mouth landing on mine with the softness of dew on a spring morning.

Our mouths paused against each other, his burning heat transferring to my lips and setting me on fire. Then he kissed me again, just as slowly, and again. He dug his fingers into my hair, and he handled me with a tenderness that I didn’t expect.

My hand moved to his wrist, and I gripped him, feeling the veins on his skin, the heat he produced through his flesh when I wasn’t sure if he was actually alive or dead.

His pace abruptly changed. His mouth took mine with the demand of a god, and he devoured my mouth like it would feed his tainted soul.

He hooked his other arm around the small of my back, and he squeezed me into him like I wasn’t close enough.

His breath was warm, and his tongue swiped with perfectly timed precision.

He kissed me with the experience of a man who kissed a lot of women…

but somehow made me feel like the only one who mattered.

I didn’t expect to get lost so quickly. Didn’t expect to feel my body begin to drift as if weightless.

I cupped his cheek and felt the coarseness of his shadowed jawline.

I felt the hard bones underneath his skin, felt a vein down his neck.

I shared with him like he was more than a stranger, but I didn’t expect our physical union to be as seamless.

He was strong enough to lift me into him with a single arm and carry me into my bedroom.

The room was cold because it was the farthest from the main fireplace.

I had a small hearth in the corner but didn’t often light it.

The light from the fire in the sitting room barely reached it, a golden glow spilling across the bed.

He laid me down on the duvet before he righted himself at the foot of the bed. He dropped his trousers and had nothing underneath—except his manhood. Plump and thick, it was ready for me from just a kiss.

I tried not to stare, but I’d never seen anything like it.

He climbed on top of me on the bed and reached underneath my shirt to grab my panties. He tugged it over one hip then forced it over the other, moving quickly, like he was too anxious to slow down.

He left my socks on and went for my top, pulling the baggy shirt free so my tits were exposed to the cold air. He stopped to look at me when I was bare to him, his dark eyes drinking me in to appreciate my body.

He dipped his head and kissed my neck then my collarbone, slowly moving down and kissing the valley between my breasts. He was a mountain over me, big enough to cast a shadow without sunlight. When he kissed my belly, I expected him to come back to my mouth, but he continued to go south.

All the way south.

I was always groomed because I didn’t know when a heated moment would occur, so I was ready for him. His big arms hooked behind my thighs, and he pressed his face right into my flesh, kissing me just the way he kissed my mouth.

I sucked in a breath between my teeth, arched my back the second I felt his hard mouth against my soft flesh. I gasped again as the kiss continued, feeling him kiss me better than I could teach a man. “Oh…”

His kiss was aggressive but purposeful, and he applied hard pressure like he wasn’t afraid to hurt me. It was so much contact that it made me whimper, so much unexpected pleasure at once.

He didn’t move to a new place on my body. He stayed between my thighs, either because that was his destination or because it was obvious how much I enjoyed his being there.

My hips rocked into his face, my spine continued to straighten and arch, and then I dug one of my hands into his dark hair and moaned again. The room was still cold, but now I didn’t feel it, not when he made me sweat with just his kiss.

I felt the sun on the horizon, felt the burn deep inside my core.

It happened so fast, and it happened with the God of the Underworld.

I should feel disgusted by this proposition, coerced into a form of indentured servitude, but now that it was happening before my eyes, it felt completely different.

I cupped the back of his head and continued to writhe into him, wanting more of what he had already generously given.

I burned hotter and hotter, exploded into an inferno, and then cried out as I came, arching my back toward the ceiling and feeling the tears squeeze out of my eyes.

My hips bucked on their own, and despite the way I shifted and moved uncontrollably, he continued to work his magic.

My body relaxed a moment later, and the tears dripped down my cheeks.

Once I was finished, he moved up my body, his thick arms spreading me open as he made himself at home between my thighs. He was an enormous man, our proportions a contradiction to each other, but he didn’t seem dissuaded by my relative petiteness.

I hadn’t been ready for this moments ago, but now I ached.

With his arms tucked behind my knees and my body stretched into the position that he wanted, he guided his head to my entrance and gently pushed, lubricated by the kisses he’d already planted there.

I didn’t know how we were going to make this work. It was like sheathing a two-handed blade in the scabbard of a dagger.

But he pushed gently over and over, stretching my flesh and my folds and making room for himself to plunge inside me. He was a cliff of rocks above me, chiseled and hard even at this angle, and his eyes watched mine dance as he entered me.

I couldn’t open my legs any wider to make this work. My body was forced to accept him by his command. I breathed through the pain of the stretch, moaned several times and then winced immediately afterward.

When he was settled within me, he held himself still, dipping his head slightly over me.

My hands went to his chest and then his shoulders, feeling just how hard he was, how big he was…how gorgeous he was.

His eyes looked over me, contorted as far as possible to take him, and then he lowered his head to kiss me.

A wet kiss with breath and tongue, packed with desire and possession.

When he pulled away, he started to thrust, giving me deep and even strokes from the start, hitting the back of my channel every time.

Every stroke hurt…but felt so damn good.

The muscles of his hard stomach flexed and shifted with his movements. His big arms looked even bigger holding up his immense weight on top of me. His eyes were dark in their desire, and he looked at me like a possession he’d claimed in his name.

Just the sight of him was the biggest turn-on.

He kept up the same pace with his movements, his enormous dick hitting me over and over, the sound of my arousal coating his length audible with every thrust. My cream built up at the base of his dick as his pelvic bone rubbed into my clit.

He was so hard inside me that he must have been close to release, but he didn’t have to edge himself.

He didn’t have to stop and kiss me for a break.

He continued like he was an expert at keeping his ammunition in the cannon.