Page 21

21

Icarus

I want to blame the strength of this pleasure on the fact I haven’t slept with anyone in a long time. I want to pretend that anyone would have me panting with need. I’m a fucking liar. It’s not just anyone splayed out beneath me, their ass clenching so tightly around my cock I think I might die.

It’s Poseidon.

It’s his face gone flush and lust-drunk with what I’m doing to him, his giant cock bouncing against his stomach with every thrust of my hips, his freckles still driving me to fucking distraction.

Too much. It’s too much to hold out. Not blowing my load before this is a godsdamned miracle.

I tighten my grip on his thighs and drive harder into his ass. Once, twice, a third time. On the fourth, I lose it. I grind into him, coming so hard, my vision flickers. Pleasure threatens to make me boneless, all the feel-good chemicals in my brain inspiring me to start spouting unforgivable words.

This is the exact feeling I’ve historically used to my benefit, teasing out secrets bed partners would never dare share if not essentially drugged on lust. I’ve just never felt it myself. Not on this level.

Now is the moment. I should roll off him, clean us both up, and cuddle just enough to get him through the crash after a scene. But I look down and the sight of his still-hard cock catches my attention. It makes my cock twitch.

Poseidon jerks. “No more,” he moans.

“You should know better, big guy.” I ease out of him and guide his thighs down, going slow in case any muscles spasm. “You practically threw a gauntlet at my feet.”

“Icarus.” His eyes are half-closed, as if he doesn’t have the energy to open them. “I can’t.”

“You have thirty seconds to rest.” I can’t stop my grin at the way he moans and writhes, his legs coming up as if he can hide his cock from me. He’s so big, so fearsome, so fucking powerful , and in this moment he’s mine. It doesn’t mean anything—it can’t—but the knowledge has me feeling like I’m walking on air as I make my way to the bathroom and dispose of the condom. I take a few minutes to clean up, to glance at myself in the mirror.

The same face I’ve had since my body settled into adulthood. When I was young, I used to stare at mirrors and search my features for evidence of my father, of the strength he craved so intensely. Even when I was sure I found it in the line of my jaw, the curve of my eyes, it was never enough for him. I was never enough for him.

I turn away. He’s dead and gone. There will be no reconciliation, no finally gaining his approval. It’s beyond my reach forever.

Back in the bedroom, Poseidon is still curled on his side. I climb onto the bed and arrange myself at his back. I kiss the base of his neck. “Are you done?”

He stirs. “Are you?”

“That’s not what I asked you.” I could start stroking him, to weigh the scale in my favor. I don’t. I simply wait.

He’s silent for what feels like a very long time but probably isn’t more than ten seconds. “I’m done when you say I’m done.”

My heart swells in a really worrisome way in response to his words. He’s given me his trust. I don’t deserve it. There’s only one person in this world who I’ll never betray, and she sailed off to a happy future because of my sacrifice. I did more for my sister in staying behind than I could ever do at her side. At least this way I won’t have another opportunity to disappoint her.

I only became aware of Poseidon a few months ago, and I’ve only begun to know him the last few days. He can’t trust me. He shouldn’t. At this point, I’m only out for myself, which means I’ll turn on him and the city he loves so much the first chance I get.

I press my forehead to his back and hiss out a breath. “How are you so fucking perfect ?” I don’t give him a chance to answer before I have him on his back and his cock in my mouth. The saltiness of his pre-come has me moaning around his length. One last orgasm. We can both survive that.

Before, I gave him frenzy. I gave him pain. Now, there’s only softness and pleasure so acute, he’s gasping and cursing under his breath. I apply all my hard-won skills to make Poseidon come apart at the seams. Teasing, licking, nibbling, losing myself in the way my jaw starts to ache, in the sensation of his cock bumping the back of my throat.

“Icarus.” Gods, I’ll never get tired of the desperate way he says my name. His hands find my hair, tangling with my curls. “Icarus, I’m close.”

I don’t stop. There’s a temptation to pick up my pace, to rush him through this, but if his last orgasm was intense, I want this one to be ruinous. I keep sucking his cock even as he digs his heels into the mattress and thrusts up into my mouth, my throat, so far gone that he’s nothing but need .

He calls my name as he comes, his voice wondering and damn near worshipful. I swallow him down, victory making my blood sing. He’s not mine—he can’t be mine—but in this moment, I can almost see a different world, a different set of circumstances, where he could be.

I ease off his cock and crawl up to sprawl on his chest. Poseidon wraps cautious arms around me. His chest heaves, his breathing ragged and his heart racing against my ear. He makes a sound like he might try to talk, but I reach up without looking to press my fingers to his lips. “Not yet. I’m here. You’re here. We have nowhere to be until morning.”

Thoughts circle, predators keeping to the shadows, waiting for the opportune time to strike. They’ll still be there in the morning—or, more accurately, in the darkest part of the night, when sleep eludes me.

I try very hard to just relax into the moment. To let the comfort of his breathing soothe me. To…

I jolt awake, my eyes flying open and my heart in my throat. The lamp on the nightstand is still on, the sky through the sliver of window still dark, but the clock reads three in the morning.

I fell asleep.

Poseidon’s soft snores fill the room. He’s still under me—I don’t think we’ve shifted even an inch—his arms still wrapped loosely around my body. But we’re covered in a blanket that I sure as fuck didn’t orchestrate. I lift my head cautiously and look into the big man’s face.

Gods, he’s handsome. It’s even more apparent when he’s sleeping, his features relaxed, the stress of the world he carries around through every waking moment having been set down for a little while. He could look like this all the time if he weren’t Poseidon .

The thought jars me out of the peace of the moment. He is Poseidon, and he’s far too good a person to turn his back on his people, even if he’s facing a losing fight. Being foolish enough to fall in love with such a man is a recipe for disaster.

What the fuck am I thinking? Love? He’s a mark, plain and simple. Just because he’s kinder than I expected and so sweet in his submission that he makes my teeth ache… It doesn’t mean anything. It can’t.

Even as I tell myself that, even as I extract myself from his soft grasp, guilt rises, so thick I can barely breathe past it. Everything about this feels so wrong, I might die. Not because it is wrong but because it actually feels so right.

My father is laughing on the slab in a morgue somewhere, safe in the knowledge that I can’t even do this correctly.

I walk silently to Poseidon’s discarded clothing and dig through them until I come up with his phone. The passcode is easy enough—I’ve seen him key it in twice. I know better than to look back, but I can’t quite manage to stop myself. He’s moved a little in my absence, one arm thrown over his face, his chest rising and falling in slow, steady cadence. The blanket sits low on his hips, under the curve of his stomach, and I want nothing more than to tug it lower and wake him up with my mouth. It’s not dawn yet, after all…

No. This might be my only chance to ensure I can actually keep my word for once. I told Poseidon I would leverage my blackmail to drive away Deo and the other four generals. All I had to do was ask for the phone and I have no doubt Poseidon would have given it to me.

But then he’d be standing there to watch me potentially fail to do what I promised. I can’t stand the thought of that.

I glance at the front door but decide the bathroom is a better bet. No matter how much Poseidon acts like he trusts me, at least part of it has to be a lie. Surely he has people watching the apartment, ensuring I don’t kill him and try to take off in the dead of night. If he doesn’t? Well, I can’t afford to think about that right now.

I duck into the bathroom and close the door softly behind me. Then I dial one of the numbers I memorized before coming to Olympus.

Despite the hour, it only rings twice before he answers. “Hello?”

It’s disgustingly easy to sink back into the plaything I was on Aeaea. My voice drops a little, smoothing out and gaining a flirtatious edge that I’ve almost lost since being in Poseidon’s presence. “Deo, did you miss me?”

Silence as he considers hanging up on me. A sigh when he realizes he can’t afford to. “So, you’re still alive.”

“The very picture of health.” I lean against the bathroom counter and avoid looking into the mirror. I don’t want to see whatever my face is doing. “I was just thinking about you and that delicious little thing I do with my tongue that makes you squirm.”

He coughs. “Icarus, do you have a reason for calling? I’m kind of busy right now.”

I bet he is. Deo is the owner of the Scylla . The ships and crew might not be moving as far as the Olympians can see, but I highly doubt they’re just hanging out and partying out there. “Make time.”

“Fuck. Fine. Hold on.” Rustling, a faint murmur in the background, too low to identify anything about the person’s identity. I doubt it’s his wife, though. She wouldn’t know what to do without her estate and a full staff of servants at her fingertips. No doubt she’s enjoying her husband being away—it means she doesn’t have to sneak her lovers into the house.

When he speaks again, he sounds significantly more awake. “Make this fast.”

“Darling, you know better. I love to go slow .”

He curses. “This was a waste of time. I’m hanging up—”

“No, you’re not.” I laugh silkily. “Has Circe discovered the coup yet?”

Deo inhales sharply. “We’re engaging in a blockade of Olympus right now, so I highly doubt she’s unaware of an attempted coup of the city.”

“It’s cute that you think you can bluff your way out of this.” It never used to take this much effort to pretend. I don’t know when that changed. I want to drop the act and allow harshness to sink into my tone, but it’s safer to keep up the person he’s familiar with. “We both know that you have no intention of allowing Circe to take Olympus while you sail back to the scraps you consider Aeaea.” I hate even saying it. My island home might be just as corrupt as this city, but it’s home . My people deserve better than Deo and his ilk.

Fuck, I’m starting to sound like Poseidon.

Deo clears his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“We both know that you do. You and that vicious wife of yours plan to double-cross her the moment she’s done all the heavy lifting for you. I wonder what Circe will say when she finds out. She’s not the most forgiving type.”

“You wouldn’t begin to know how to contact her to tell her our plans.”

“I never realized you were so naive. I have her number, Deo.” I rattle it off to prove it. “But we both know Circe wouldn’t take my word on anything, which is why I have plenty of evidence stashed.”

“Evidence,” he says slowly.

“Indeed.” I roll my shoulders, fighting against the tension raising them toward my ears. “You didn’t think I spent all that time with you because I liked fucking you, did you? I was compiling a case against you—well, you and all the others currently piloting your cute little ships. Isadora has been directing an extra ten percent off her profits directly into her pocket instead of Aeaea’s coffers. Evander’s penchant for wandering has resulted in three children, one of which he plans to name heir after his wife mysteriously dies.” A problem since marrying her is what brought him all his money and connections. She’s universally beloved by both the rich and the poor on Aeaea. “And Agatha… Well, Agatha’s is most delicious of all. She’s the one bringing in the drugs that are running rampant through the island and fucking up all your workers. Be sure to tell them I know all their dirty little secrets—and that I expect them to do what I ask in order for those secrets to stay secret .”

Deo swallows hard enough that I can hear it over the phone. “That’s a lot of conjecture.”

“Conjecture that I can back up with files. Call your wife. I’m sure she can take a break between all her lovers to check that cute little laptop you think no one is aware of in your wine cellar. I sent a copy of all your correspondence, records, and money transfers to myself from that computer. One push of the button and I can forward it all the Circe.”

“I’ll call you back.” He hangs up before I have a chance to reply.

I hiss out a breath and stretch my arms over my head. It won’t take long for Deo to confirm the truth of my claims. I intentionally left my prints all over the laptop, digitally and otherwise. I wanted him—and the others—to know exactly who was responsible so they’d pay through the nose for my silence.

Almost exactly three minutes later, the phone vibrates in my hand. I take a deep breath, paste a smile on my face, and answer. “Deo, that was so quick. Be careful or I might think you’re worried.”

“The others won’t believe your blackmail without evidence.”

I laugh. “They have the same evidence you do. They simply need to check.”

A pause. “Were you the one behind Michail’s downfall?”

Not in the least. Michail was a nasty piece of work who even I wasn’t brave enough to seduce. His lovers had a habit of disappearing—and of being far too young. He was found murdered in his bedroom, photographic evidence of his sins literally blood-soaked around his body. “A gentleman never tells, but…” I lower my voice. “It’s not a good idea to cross me.”

I let him chew on the problem I’ve presented, let him realize that he has no recourse. Even if they wanted to kill Circe to cover their respective asses, the others’ sins are too far-reaching. There’s no neat way out of the trap I’ve set. There was never meant to be.

He finally curses and then keeps cursing, threatening me in any number of creative and horrific ways. I wait him out. There’s nothing he can do to touch me right now and we both know it. Better for him to get his frustration out of his system now, so he can think clearly.

Sure enough, it doesn’t take long. A few minutes later, he says, “What do you want?”

“Darling, I’m so glad you asked.” I keep the playful edge in my tone. “You’re going to convince the others to see things my way. Once you do, on my signal, you’ll all sail back to Aeaea and never return.”

He snorts. “You’re asking the impossible.”

“Am I? Circe didn’t hold a gun to any of your heads to come here. Your greed did that for you. Leave her to fight her own battles. Really, Deo, I’m just giving you the excuse to do what you already want to. Leave Circe to be murdered by the Olympians, and step into the power vacuum her death will cause—and you don’t even have to get your hands dirty to do it.”

He’s silent for several beats. “I’ll talk to the others. Do I call you back at this number?”

And have Poseidon answer? “I’ll contact you in a day or two. Have good news for me when I do. Otherwise…” I let the threat hang just long enough to make my point. Then I hang up and brace my shaking hands on the counter of the bathroom.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I really did it. I’ve played all the cards in my hand. It’s possible that Deo will attempt to call my bluff. If he does, I’ll have to figure out the most strategic way to proceed. I hope it won’t come to that, though. I’m giving them the excuse to do exactly what those selfish cowards always do—look out for themselves first, often at the expense of others.

I close my eyes and concentrate on getting my breathing back under control. It never used to be this difficult to play the game. I don’t like the implications of what it means, so I refuse to examine them.

I have to play this game to its conclusion…even if it kills me in the process.