Page 29 of The Prince of Hidden Shadows (Runaway Prince Hotel #5)
Chapter Twenty
INTO MY ARMS
Théo
My legs are draped over Zagreus’s lap, still carrying the delicious heaviness of our Bridgerton binge—room service trays, long naps, and days wrapped around each other here.
As fun as it was to watch it through his fresh eyes, I hadn’t signed up for the reason behind it.
The bastard lured me back to Oregon under false pretenses, and now I’m trapped.
Of course, he’s not holding me hostage, but I never agreed to this.
I was all in for the good deed, yet not eager about cosplaying the show with a masquerade ball, stupid mask and all.
I urged him to consider staying in his suite instead—swapping masks for blindfolds and suits for skin-on-skin—but he wouldn’t listen.
Needless to say, showering ranked low on our list of priorities, so the room reeks of food, sweat, and sex. What a perfect combo! Hence my initial question, which he refuses to answer properly.
“Enough, Théo!” Zagreus swats the side of my bare leg. I should have pulled on my jeans rather than hanging around in boxer briefs. That’ll leave a mark, but I’m more aroused than irritated. “How often have we gone over this in the past week?”
Blinking at the black screen in order to get back to reality, I click on the nearby lamp and stick my tongue out at him.
“ This ,” he begins with a level voice that contrasts with the tone I’ve been favoring lately.
His thumb points at my daring tongue. “That belongs to indoor activities as far as I’m concerned, whether it’s in my mouth or my ass.
” Despite my foul mood, the warmth of Zagreus’s hand tracing idle patterns on my shin steadies me, even as my pulse stumbles at his suggestion.
“Well, I’m fine when it goes around my cock or my balls, too. ”
My cock stirs to life inside my boxer briefs. “That’s what I’m saying: vegging out half-naked on the sofa and having wild sex was my idea of a fun night. I want your balls, not their ball.”
“Ha-ha!” my favorite god teases, giving my knee a squeeze. “We’ll get to that after tonight’s event. Don’t forget, what Layla and Sheena have planned is important.”
I cross my arms over my bare chest. “Says who?”
“Me. Your soul. Our future…”
“Fine,” I grumble. “You win.” I should have sent the donation and skipped tonight’s fundraiser. Why did I agree to this again? Oh, right—I missed him too much. “But I’m not dancing or whatever it is people do at this type of thing.”
“Deal! You’ll see, you’re going to have a blast.” I knit my brows, unconvinced.
“I’ll be right by your side, and you can take care of my balls afterward.
” The corner of my lips quirks up at that, and I tug at my throbbing, covered cock.
Damn, I should have insisted on watching Bridgerton naked on his massive bed.
“Please stop tempting me. We don’t have time…
and drop the grump act. You love this show!
You couldn’t hide how invested you were in Anthony’s storyline.
I saw you gritting your teeth when he was being a stubborn idiot. ”
I roll my eyes. “Admit it, you’re thrilled I confessed he has decent bone structure.” I swing my legs around and push myself upright, then shift towards him, the leather squeaking under my bare thighs. My lips brush his cheek, lingering long enough to hint I might not stop there.
“Mmm… Not as good as mine, though.” He tilts his head, waiting for me to confirm, because of course he does.
I scoff, but my fingers slide up to his jaw, my thumb tracing over the sharp line of it. “Duh! You already know you win.”
He shrugs. “But I’m cheating—I can alter my appearance however I want… I haven’t changed it since…” Sighing, voice fades, and it’s easy to read between the lines.
My heart races, my temper flares, and heat climbs the back of my neck. I purse my lips, stifling the possessiveness stirred by the first human he ever cared for.
Zagreus might have—somewhat—adjusted his style to the century he spent on Earth, but he’s kept his features and overall looks as they were when he met Willem.
His thumb settles in the middle of my bottom lip, releasing it.
“Look, you have nothing to be jealous of.” Busted!
I nod, eyes resting on his hands for a moment, taking in his words.
We lock eyes when he continues in a huskier voice.
“Setting your eyes on the real me—or any god for that matter—in our godly form would kill you… or any human, in fact.”
Gawking, I shake my head, and my mind runs a mile a second. “Can you promise me something?”
His brow shoots up at the apparent change of conversation, but he says, “If it’s in my power, I’ll do anything for you.”
“Then, here it is: If you’re still mine when age or fate brings me down, will you show me your true self and speed my soul’s journey back to your home?”
His face falls when he mouths, “Okay,” then pulls me into a tight hug.
The thought of us being apart shreds my insides, even though we met just a few months ago. I’m sure he’d agree to disagree, saying it’s been an eternity, but I want more of Théo and Zagreus. That is why I came back without resisting.
As crazy as it sounded at first, I belong by his side, now and forever. And tonight, I owe him a party to celebrate our reunion.
Our summer has been an odd mix of peaceful and hectic—in particular August—and my mood improved… that is, until recently.
After two weeks with me and Noé, along with Nathan and his eclectic group of friends in Cape Cod, Zagreus flew back here, back to his work as an elevator operator, and back to Layla and Sheena’s company.
Between protecting the world’s balance, meeting a human who happened to be his soulmate, and reclaiming his painting, he aimed to catch up with Layla, his long-time friend, who he didn’t get to share enough moments with.
The married owners of the Renversé Hotel welcomed him with open arms, although he had to pay a couple of visits to his father to fulfill his divine duties.
Kissing my forehead, his lips then quirk into a smile.
Something softer spreads across his expression, unreadable yet familiar.
The undercurrent between us never quite fades; it ripples in intensity, present for both of us, since our Monaco escapade.
It grew even stronger when we reached the busy French Riviera, where we stayed in July, while managing to steer clear of the impressive number of tourists.
“Do you miss it?” I ask, my voice low. “The Mediterranean, the small cafés, the days we lost ourselves in the sun, naked, hidden in the secluded coves of Cassis?”
Zagreus hums, thoughtful. “Back then, I was ready to collapse from aesthetic overload, but I miss the light there. How it turned everything golden. I miss the turquoise water, and some of the food… If I’m honest,” he shifts, leaning in, “watching you so at ease, free of burdens, warmed my heart. Then, Provincetown happened.”
He’s right. Cape Cod was a different beast: as crowded as the South of France, but far more boisterous and people-y since we were amongst friends who—thankfully—clicked with us. Too bad he left before we did.
“Those two weeks were eye-opening, and I don’t mean only the unique atmosphere or seeing Nathan again.
There, I caught a glimpse of a new you after reuniting with Noé.
” We had a blast together after our prolonged absence.
And, in the sea of people, Noé managed to run into a guy from his hometown in France, hooked up with him throughout, and ended up calling him “boyfriend material” which eased my guilt about the hours I gave to my own boyfriend.
“You were happy. Your whole face relaxed, and the crease between your brows vanished. You looked… at peace.”
I swallow, startled by the sincerity in his voice. He speaks as if he’s memorizing moments, as if he’s seeing through me—like no one else ever has. My gaze falls, and my fingers trail down his wrist, tracing the veins there.
“I was happy,” I admit. His thumb caresses the exact spot he mentioned; had the crease reappeared at the prospect of dancing?
Either way, I revel in his touch, and suck in a breath as my dick takes notice of the sweet gesture. I blush. He parts his mouth, but I cut in, breath uneven. “I’ve never been this happy.”
He studies me, then smirks after breaking the contact. “Even though you’re being forced into a classic Regency ensemble to attend a masquerade ball as my date?”
I groan, covering my face. “Don’t remind me—that’s the source of my sour mood. If it were up to me, I’d?—”
“Let’s not go there again,” the teasing Greek god interrupts.
“You’ve been very open about your opinion.
” His grin betrays him. I twist so we’re facing each other.
His knee presses against mine, and there’s something electric in the space between us.
“But for one night, indulge me… please ,” he murmurs, then catches my lips in a slow, lingering kiss.
There’s no rush, no urgency—just a muted understanding between us, the taste of familiarity, and something deeper.
When we part, his thumb brushes my cheek, his touch reverent. “Let’s get ready!” He’s about to stand up.
“Not so fast.” I snatch his wrist so that he plops back onto the couch. In a swift move, I position his strong body beneath mine, his mouth close to my dick.
My tongue swirls around the tip. He mimics my every move, no doubt tasting my salty scent as I revel in his. Within seconds, I take him as deep as I can into my eager mouth, even though I can’t compete with his deep-throating skills. Hands are everywhere, skin set ablaze as we set a maddening pace.
Breath hitching. Cheeks hollowed. Head bobbing. We’re reduced to grunts, moans, and whimpers… until we can’t fight our earth-shattering orgasms.
The world holds its breath for a heartbeat, then we convulse as our release floods each other’s mouths, and my sated body folds onto his.