Page 68 of Siren’s Mark (The Siren’s Mark Duology #1)

AVA

A few strippers are dancing on the various podiums around us, with several patrons gawking at them. This section is in the middle of everything but is cleared out—probably reserved for Dionysus. Music with heavy bass plays in the background.

Zane takes a few steps back from me as I sit on the leather couch.

Wait—what’s happening?

He’s not doing what I think he is… right?

Zane starts to rock his hips forward to the beat.

Yep. He is.

“About time,” Dionysus says, leaning back in his chair with a grin.

Zane looks insanely attractive under the purple and pink lights. He moves with surprising ease as he approaches me and puts a leg on either side of my knees so that he’s standing with his abs at my eye level.

Damn.

He gives me a smirk and bites his lip as he rolls his hips to the rhythm.

Holy crap.

Zane has always been ridiculously attractive and he’s certainly been a decent dancer when we’ve danced together, but I had no idea he could do this .

Has he practiced this before?

He starts to draw a crowd and I feel a bit of jealousy bubbling in my chest.

Zane grabs the top of the couch on either side of my head and pulls himself to me until his lips are at my ear.

“This is just for you, baby,” he whispers, as if he could tell what I was thinking.

As he pulls back, his eyes are glowing slightly. I guess I’m not the only one his dancing is having an effect on.

He straightens up and grabs the bottom of his shirt, lifting it just enough to grab it with his teeth. He continues to dance with his abs now on full display. I’m pulled in by his every move as if I have tunnel vision that allows me to see only him.

“So Zane,” Dionysus says as a server places a bottle of wine and several glasses on the table. “You’ve never had any problem with getting a lap dance before. Why the sudden change of heart?”

“I told you, I’m not interested in getting a lap dance,” Zane says, stepping back as he slowly pulls off his shirt to cheers from the people around us.

I don’t know what’s more impressive: how perfect he looks or that he can dance and hold a conversation at the same time.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” Dionysus scolds. “You know better than to lie to me, darling.”

So… he did want a dance?

Zane sighs and gives him a quick glare.

“Fine, I don’t want a lap dance from one of your strippers,” he says.

“That’s better,” Dionysus says with a chuckle.

I can hardly keep track of the conversation with Zane shirtless and gyrating in front of me. My eyes gravitate toward the growing bulge in his pants. Though my instinct is to look away, for whatever reason I don’t care as much as I usually would.

This must be the effect of Dionysus’s powers.

Honestly, it feels kind of nice. I don’t know what Zane was so afraid of. Inhibitions suck anyway.

Zane takes his T-shirt and loops it behind my neck, using it to pull me closer to him. He rests his knees on the couch, still straddling my legs. His vivid green eyes practically burn into my own as he licks his lips.

“So Ava,” Dionysus says, interrupting our moment. “What is this effect you have on Zane?”

“I… um… what?” I ask. My mouth is dry and my brain has left the building.

“What did you do to conquer the Iron Siren?” he asks with a chuckle. “Because, from the looks of it, Zane is well and truly under your spell.”

“I have no idea,” I say with a shrug. “Apparently we’re soulmates?”

“Last time I saw Zane, I just barely got his Siren eyes to flash,” he says. “Look at him now—he’s full Siren.”

I look back at Zane, whose eyes are trained on my chest.

“Are you particularly adventurous in bed?” Dionysus asks.

Before I can respond, Zane has him pinned against a pillar in the center of the room. Zane’s eyes are even brighter and his grip on Dionysus’s neck looks impossibly tight. A deep rumbling growl reverberates through the floorboards.

“You’ll never fucking know, mate,” Zane says.

“Zane, it’s fine. It doesn’t bother me. Let’s calm down,” I say.

Zane’s grip slowly loosens and he releases Dionysus, who looks almost disappointed.

“No no no,” Dionysus says. “Where’s the fun in calming down? I want to see how far we can push the Iron Siren. Jealous type, are we?”

“Don’t,” I say.

“Thank you for the suggestion, Miss Ava, but I do as I please. Always.”

Dionysus looks to Zane, whose hands are still in fists at his sides.

“Naya,” Dionysus calls to someone across the room. “Come here.”

I turn to see my shifter doppelg?nger, still with my face and body in leather lingerie. As she approaches, I can only think one thing: Is that what my boobs really look like?

“Would you dance for us please, darling?” Dionysus asks the woman.

She nods and steps up on the platform with the pole. She begins skillfully spinning around it, her legs managing to support her entire body weight.

I kind of want to record this to post on my Instagram.

Zane’s eyes are ablaze and his every muscle is tense.

“Tell her to stop,” he says, as others gather to watch her.

“Why would I want to do that?” Dionysus asks.

“Because you don’t want me to murder every bloody person in this room for eyeing my girl,” he says with a growl.

“Look at you, darling,” he says, stepping towards Zane. “You’re a true Siren—defending your claim on your lover. It’s adorable.”

Dionysus gestures to the woman and orders her to shift to another form.

“There, see,” Dionysus says. “I can be agreeable. Besides, I have other things I’d like to try.”

Zane gives him a murderous glare.

Dionysus waves a hand toward me, but I don’t know what it means. As I turn to Zane, his eyes are focused intently, raking up and down my body. I look down at myself to see I’m now wearing a lacy black lingerie set with lots of crisscrossed straps.

It’s a good thing he magically put this on me because there’s no way I’d be able to figure out what to do with all these ties and strings.

Zane is now immediately in front of me, looking at me like a lion looks at a zebra. A low, clicking growl emerges from his lips and his single wing extends from his back.

Oh boy.

In an instant, there’s a rush of air and we’re on the couch, his body on top of mine as he peppers frenzied kisses along my neck.

“Zane,” I moan.

He growls again and his lips crash into mine with fervor.

I see something out of the corner of my eye and glance quickly to the side. Dionysus sits there with a smile while sipping his wine. The unexpected visual shocks me back to reality.

“Zane, stop,” I say.

Zane pushes himself backward off of me and stumbles slightly.

“Shit,” he curses.

“Oh, don’t stop on my account,” Dionysus says.

Zane pulls out his phone and shows it to Dionysus.

“It’s been an hour,” he says, his wing folding back into his body as he replaces his shirt. “We met our end of the bargain. You owe Ava her clothes and me some Fury smoke.”

“Once a party pooper, always a party pooper, aren’t we Zane?” he asks.

Zane doesn’t reply and simply holds out his palm.

Dionysus pulls an object from his pocket and places it in Zane’s hand. It’s a small golden sphere about the size of a grape attached to a chain like a necklace.

“Careful where you open that,” Dionysus says. “It’s potent like you wouldn’t believe.”

“And Ava?” he asks.

Dionysus waves his hand again and my regular clothes are back. Zane grabs my hand and pulls me toward the door and I quickly wave goodbye.

“Have fun!” Dionysus calls as we reach the doors and step outside.

Zane picks me up in his arms and rushes to the car, placing me in the passenger seat as he appears in the driver’s seat and speeds away.

“Whoa, Zane,” I say. “We got the smoke, everything’s fine. You need to calm yourself.”

His head snaps toward me, his eyes looking almost radioactive. He rails the steering wheel to the side and we veer off the road into the dirt. I hear the click of his seatbelt being undone, shortly followed by my own.

He lets out a guttural sound that I could only describe as a roar.

“I can’t think straight… you… fuck…” he says. Instead of finishing his thought, he pulls me in for a deep kiss.

I already felt lightheaded from his dance earlier, but with his kiss I swear like I’m floating.

ZANE

Ava crawls over the center console as our tongues intertwine. Her movements are not particularly graceful and yet this may be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

She straddles me and I grab two handfuls of her arse. Grinding on her at the club was torturous and I was dangerously close to fucking her in front of everyone in that room.

“Fuck,” I hiss as she rolls her hips, kissing and sucking at my neck.

My dick is straining against my jeans as I watch her tits bounce behind the thin fabric of her T-shirt. Purple strands fall into her face and she bites her bottom lip and moans.

Fuck.

I look down at her denim shorts and decide they’re not going to make it. I unbutton the first button and then quickly rip them down the middle, tearing until the fabric falls away.

“Zane!” she says with a gasp.

I’m sure she’s trying to scold me for ruining her shorts but all I can think is how good my name sounds on her lips.

I graze my fingertips down her stomach and between her legs, touching her through the silk fabric of her panties. She shivers as her body collapses forward into me.

She nibbles at my neck while I pull her panties to the side, sliding a finger into her. She lets out a slew of beautiful noises that bring me to my breaking point.

Fuck this.

I unbutton my trousers and sigh with relief. Her hands begin immediately stroking me and I shudder at the sensation. I desperately grab for the condom in my wallet and quickly slip it on, mentally praising myself for putting one in there before we left the hotel—you know, just in case.

I pull her closer toward me until our bodies align and slowly lower her onto me.

“Zane,” she moans, pushing me further toward the edge.

I grab her hips and move her up and down. Her breasts bounce with every thrust. I pull her in for a kiss as she continues riding me.

She begins to shiver and her muscles tense as her orgasm pulses around me. A mixture of curses and moans pours out of her mouth and that’s all it takes for my own release to follow. My limbs fall to my sides as Ava’s body drapes atop mine.

“Fuck,” I say through heavy breaths.

“Yeah,” she says.

“Did we just fuck in the car like bloody teenagers?”

“Actually, my high school boyfriend had a motorcycle,” she says.

I growl in response.

“Just kidding,” she says with a giggle.

“Not funny, love,” I say. “Not funny.”