Oh, to be a siren, dancing in a symposium in front of adoring Spartan men.
Some moments punched the breath from your lungs and dragged you through the mud, reminding you why life sucked. Othermoments stole your air in a glittering swirl and reminded you why life was magical.
This was the latter.
It was art.
And then—it wasn’t.
A Spartan wrapped his arm around a female siren’s waist and pulled her to his lap. His tongue dragged across her throat, and she tipped her head back with a grin, expression changing to ecstasy as he licked across her nipples.
I blinked in shock.
A different Spartan fell out of his chair, knees hitting the ground and expensive suit jacket pulling tight as he crawled across the floor to a male siren with his mouth wide open, and he...Oh wow.
The energy shifted.
As if a switch had been flipped, the sirens and Spartans collided in carnal abandon.
I sank lower into my booth, grateful for the darkness.
Face flushing.
Across the room, in dim red light, a siren male and female crawled over the laps of my fellow initiates. The boys hastily pulled off their togas as the two creatures licked and sucked at their exposed skin.
I quickly looked away.
Mental note—buy bleach and drink it. Also, never look Maximum in the eye ever again.
A Spartan pulled off his pants a few feet away from me (help), then pressed himself against a female siren who shivered with delight and opened her legs.
A male siren joined, and the amorous trio fell onto the floor in a tangle of thrusts and limbs.
Averting my gaze from the aggressive copulation occurring at my feet (that could not be sanitary) I accidentally looked over at where my mentors sat—Patro and Achilles were in the booth, but Augustus had disappeared somewhere.
He’s probably naked with a group of Sirens right now. I fought the irrational urge to look around for him.
In contrast, my mentors were the only Spartans I’d seen who were completely ignoring the sirens.
Maybe romance isn’t dead?
Achilles looked up—vermilion eyes locked with mine—and Patro turned his head to see what Achilles was staring at.
My heart skipped a beat.
Patro smirked, then he turned back around and dragged his tongue possessively across Achilles’s throat. He licked at the edge of where skin met muzzle.
I blushed and looked down.
When I glanced back, they were both laughing at me.
Patro blew me a mocking kiss, then winked and lowered his head to Achilles’s lap. My blush became a full-body flush, and this time, I kept my eyes averted.
The problem was there was nowhere safe to look.
A sea of naked bodies engaged in obscenities.
Everyone wasjigglingin ways I never could have imagined.
