Page 13 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows (Runaway Prince Hotel #5)

I have no regrets, even though Eros traitorously aimed at us while we were near the banks, ignoring the human nature of the man beside me.

What I told Hecate was accurate: Eros broke the rules.

I’ll pin him down for a little heart-to-heart to get to the bottom of his rationale.

You see, Eros’s gift is sensing a connection between individuals.

His arrow—or whatever else he uses—never forces Mother Nature.

Browsing the Internet and social media with my newly acquired cell phone, I read about the concept of insta love…

Well, I doubt that’s how Eros’s magic works.

His skill may set awareness in motion, but the attraction blossoms on its own.

Some call the phenomenon soulmates. But the thing is that I don’t have a soul, so calling Théo—a human at that—my soulmate would be a stretch.

I push the thought aside. Soulmates or not, he’s here now, so I’d better take advantage of it.

“So, you’re the princess in this scenario?” I inquire, plastering on the most innocent look I can muster.

His hearty fit of laughter speaks to my uncooperative dick. He’s quick to recover; I’m not. “I’d be happy to, if you so wish, my prince.” His smile holds—small, resolute, and drenched in salacious promise.

The intensity coils low in my gut, drawing a growl to my lips. “I may be an actual prince, Théo, but I didn’t step out of a fairytale. Thought I’d remind you, in case you haven’t processed where I belong.”

“Don’t worry about me…” Oh, but I do, sweet Théo… “I’m a big boy.” That, he is. I stall, tilt my head, and study him. Almost as tall as me, which is not so common. Much leaner, which suits me to a T. And adorably grouchier, which challenges me to soften his edges.

“May I?”

I raise an eyebrow, baffled that a grown-ass man would be asking for permission.

Unsure how to navigate the rules of attraction in this day and age, I pause, reveling in the anticipation of the forbidden kiss.

Théo’s pupils widen, swallowing the light anew.

The patches of red skin on his neck deepen, raw and alive. It’s fucking adorable.

I heave a sigh I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Well, in that case… Be my guest.” My thumb brushes his cheek.

“I’m all yours.” Shifting slightly to grant him easier access, I wink and open my arms in surrender.

I can’t believe that I’m about to kiss a human.

My memory blurs between what I might have dreamed of in the past and what truly happened.

Who cares now? All I want is Théo. I want to feel everything this human has to offer and get lost in an ocean of long-forgotten sensations.

Neither of us moves, the world narrowing to the two of us. Our hooded gazes do the talking, while ragged gasps and thumping hearts—at least mine—thunder in our bubble.

In a gentle, almost reverent move, his lips brush against mine. This tentative touch awakens a yearning that I will myself to control with a frustrated grunt. That’s his call, not mine.

I ease us into a less awkward position while he tastes my lips. Licking. Nibbling. Grazing.

His unique essence is dizzying. It’s not merely that he’s strictly a human. It’s him . A fierce gravity hauls me in—unspoken, primal, and impossible to deny.

With my legs resting on the couch, Théo takes the hint, his initial hesitation fading, and straddles my right thigh.

Panting, he peppers kisses behind my earlobe while hastily unbuttoning my pastel dress shirt. The urgency in his voice shoots straight to my cock. “Mmm… I need to touch you, feel your skin against mine.”

I’m fully on board with that.

His bare chest crushes against mine. Eyes wide open, his mouth claims mine, and I open for him as his hands slide up to rest on my chest. I welcome the slight tremor in his touch.

He smells like cinnamon—how?—danger—for sure—and temptation—definitely…

but what strikes me the most is how the distinctive scent of the Underworld seeps through his smooth skin.

My hands caress his back, avoiding venturing too close to his waistband, which would escalate things much too quickly for my taste.

Why rush it when we have all the time in the world to explore one another?

And yet, my dick doesn’t cooperate, unabashedly rubbing against his knee to soothe the ache.

Deep down, I’m well-aware that I want all of him: skin, scent, stubble, voice, mouth, teeth, arms, legs, fingers, nails, hands, tongue, cock.

Fuck, this guy is going to be the death of me… so to speak.

His stubble grazes my skin, and I’m hooked.

His mischievous tongue claims my greedy mouth in a bruising kiss, exploring.

My overheated skin prickles. His fingers travel across my chest, up my neck, and into my hair.

I arch into him, driving the friction higher, unleashing all the pent-up tension in our kiss.

When I reluctantly pull away from him, our eyes lock.

We’re impossibly hard. His pulse throbs at his neck, the flush spreading over his cheeks.

He can’t deny I’m no fairytale or make-believe prince.

But rushing into this might be a recipe for disaster.

A knot forms in my chest when I remind myself what gods are capable of, that we don’t fall for mortals, we can’t .

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Théo’s lips curve into a devilish smile as he shares his unsurprising conclusion.

“Divinely real.”