Page 25 of Until the End of Ever (To the Cruel Gods #2)

LUCIAN

B efore we’d even exchanged a word, I was certain there was something wrong, strange, singular about this woman, just from glances across crowded ballrooms. Within days of knowing her, I was certain I should keep my distance, lest this very incident occur.

On Sunday, while grinding into her heat and making her scream, every part of me warned that I shouldn’t get attached, get involved, and absolutely should not risk a kiss.

And now I’d tasted her mouth. I’d felt her lower lip tremble under mine while she stood, frozen and still, before letting out a soft whimper that shot through my limbs, electrifying every part of me, body and soul.

There was no changing the story the Fates would write after this.

I would commit atrocities to keep her tied to me.

I would burn the world to keep her warm.

I could see no limit to what I would be capable of just to make her smile.

I’d suspected it all along. Now I knew. I didn’t even think I needed to appeal to Moros: there was no reality where Kleos Valesco wasn’t already recorded as the one being in the universe made for me.

I took my time, delighting in every inch of her delectable mouth, kissing her as if we had a thousand years to explore each other, every breath, every moan etched in my memory forever.

It was ridiculous that I’d never kissed her before.

Impossible that I’d ever want to do anything else.

Then she brought her hands to my shoulders, pressing her chest to mine, and heat travelled all the way to my groin, reminding me of every other way I could connect with her.

Groaning, I lifted her up by the thighs, and she crossed her legs behind my hips like she’d done so a million times. The head of her core rested right at my cock, so hard it throbbed, desperate to feel her again.

“I could kiss you forever,” she breathed against my lips.

I threw my head back, physically restraining myself. How many times had I warned her? Was it twice? Thrice?

“I could demand it. I could accept that deal,” I reminded her, my voice rough with need and frustration. “It’s direct, straightforward. Not leaving you a way out. And I could take it as a vow.”

We both needed the reminder that she didn’t understand words like forever. Not when spoken to me.

The damnable witch giggled.

“You’ll laugh less when I accept what you’re offering, one day. You can’t even admit you want me.”

“I want you,” she parroted readily.

I glared. “You want my cock .” On that last word, I ground into her, through her pants and mine, and she moaned, practically crossed eyes. “And my fingers, and my mouth. There’s a difference.”

“Oh, and what do you want, then? If you ask me, you’re the one who’s scared. You keep telling me I don’t want a deal with you.”

“You don’t,” I repeated.

“Says you . I’m not an imbecile. If I say I want to kiss you forever, I actually mean it.”

I wondered if I qualified for sainthood for resisting that .

“Tell me so when you’re not panting, moaning, and desperate for a hard cock to fill you, witch, and we’ll have a very different conversation,” I said, eliciting another series of whines from her as my hips moved leisurely, letting her feel my length, teasing her with each slow stroke.

“Please!” she moaned.

“Tell me what you need.”

The way she was riding my hips, creating as much friction as she could through our clothes, I absolutely expected her to demand dick.

“Your ring.”

I growled. “You truly are going to kill me.”

She knew what my signet ring was made for. And yes, she also knew what it felt like right against her clit, but the damnable little witch realized the temptation it would represent for me, right against her skin.

“One condition.” I smiled pleasantly. “I think I gave you enough opportunity to communicate clearly for today. You want my ring? Fine. But you’re not going to be a naughty little tease and make me lose it.”

I pushed off the wall and carried her to the edge of her bed, lifting her hips to slide her pants down her thighs.

Underneath, she wore silk and lace, because apparently she’d decided my sanity was irrelevant.

I recognized one of the many such sets I’d brought up to her room on Monday, and knew I was the one to blame.

Everything she wore today had come from me, including the scrap of fabric doing very little to conceal her drenched cunt from me.

It was a struggle to focus on anything but her, but I untied my belt and wrapped it around her pretty head.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you shut the fuck up, gorgeous little tease.”

“You’re a dick,” she grumbled.

That most definitely didn’t sound like a no. While her eyes remained set on mine, I buckled the belt tight, silencing that mouth.

“You blink three times if you want me to let go, understood?”

She nodded.

“Good little witch.” Except she was anything but.

I kissed my way up from her knees to her center, parting the creamy legs, and throwing them over my shoulders to nest right at the apex of her thighs. She smelled more enticing than any of her succulent desserts, so, pushing her panties out of the way, I feasted.

Kleos bucked against me, grabbed a fistful of my hair, screamed, wailed, begged, while I took my time, exploring each crevice, each nook, languorously familiarizing myself with the addictive taste of her cunt, my heated ring right against her clit, the warm metal circling it, or pressing against it.

It would be so, so easy. All it would take would be a little blood from each of us. Not even a word would be needed. She’d be mine forever.

Her hips lifted up, back arching as she pressed into my tongue, her legs locking around my neck so tight she might break it—if I didn’t choke.

I was fairly certain my tongue had entered a race; I was either going to make her lose it, or she’d kill me first.

Good way to go.

Before the crazed woman had a chance to end me, she flooded my tongue, screaming my name, the noise muffled by my belt as her limbs let go of me, falling back down to my shoulders.

I kissed the knee right by my head before letting her legs drop down to the ground and making my way up to her. First, I unfastened my belt before lifting her up higher on the bed to tuck her in. I was all but done when her hazy gaze regained enough focus to settle on me, full of questions.

She didn’t have to say a word for me to understand. She was wondering why my cock was still firmly tucked in my pants, rather than where it belonged: deep inside her molten heat, made so wet to take me.

I pressed my lips against her forehead, then the tip of her nose. “It’s three in the morning. You had a long day, and plenty of wine. Sleep.”

We’d see where we were at tomorrow. I didn’t think it possible for Kleos to hook her claws deeper than they were, but if she ran again, the last thing I needed was another memory of what it felt like to let myself take her.

I’d taken enough risks with my flagging sanity for one night.

Whether it was the time or the fresh orgasm, Kleos was down for the count in mere instants.

I considered doing what I said I would; occupy myself while I was still awake, and then find a bedroom. After a good seven seconds of serious deliberation, I dismissed the asinine idea, and resized the notebook and pen in my pocket.

I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t even done writing about Apollo’s cave, and now, I had to add an entire chapter on dragons from Terra.