Every word was a desperate groan. His pace quickened, somehow his cock deeper, more filling. Our bodies met in every undulation. Both of us trembling as our orgasms rose. I couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t hold back as my pussy tightened,tightenedaround him. My head was falling off the end of the bed, my chest arching, neck exposed.
I came around his cock and shouted his name—his real name, though I didn’t realize I was saying it until it came rolling off my tongue. I felt his cock throb inside me and heard him groan into my neck as if saying his proper name at my end had called to his desperate soul.
His release followed mine, his groan echoing into the night air. He collapsed atop me, and I allowed my head to loll off the bed, my muscles too tired to move.
Gavin kissed my chest, my collar, and my neck, and as he pulled from inside me, he shifted me so that I was back on the bed. His smile met me when I opened my eyes.
“I didn’t know you were falling,” he said, and it didn’t sound like an apology.
“I don’t care,” I said. “You felt too damn good inside me to care.”
“You’re addicting,” he whispered. “Everything about you makes me want to consume you whole.”
I laughed softly. “That’s how I feel too.”
He kissed me, and I lifted my left hand to his cheek after, my ring staring back at me. “When do I get to marry you?” I asked. “In this lifetime.”
“Whenever you want,” he said. “Say the word, and I’ll get the jet. Or, rather, I’ll hire Hermes.”
“What if we didn’t go home?” I asked. “What if we went straight to Greece after this and got married?”
“Is that what you want?”
“Lana would kill me, but she’d get over it.” I pressed my other hand to his cheek. “I want to call you my husband, and I want to remember it.”
He kissed me long and tender again, then pushed my hair back. “I am the luckiest idiot alive,” he whispered. “Roll over, baby,” he said with a chin jerk. “I want to see the lovely little pattern the wax left behind on your skin. Maybe I spelled my name right.”
“You wrote your name on my skin?” I asked, almost laughing.
“Just on one ass cheek.”
CHAPTER FIFTY- ONE - CHLOE
I WOKE STILL sore in all the best places. I could still feel the sting of the heat on my skin, feel his cum inside me from all the times we’d fucked overnight.
Once hadn’t been enough. Not here. Not in this place.
He’d even fucked me over the banister and let gravity take my torso over the railing, my hair flailing in the wind.
I wondered how many gods had seen that display.
My body still smelled like him when I made my way downstairs before sunrise, intent on sitting in the garden in peace and having time to myself before the rest of them woke up, as well as calling Lana.
At least the coffee was already out, and I was familiar with the espresso machine.
I took my steaming mug into the gardens, bare feet warm against the cool stucco ground. It was still pitch black outside except for the stars and a few fire torches scattered around the expanse.
I sat my mug down on one of the tables and stretched my arms over my head, pulling and tugging on those muscles, cracking my spine and neck with deep exhales.
Something made me wonder if Aphrodite led yoga classes in her spare time.
I made a mental note to ask her.
“I thought I was the only one of us who enjoyed a quiet morning,” a gruff, accented voice said behind me.
I jumped, thankful I had already set my coffee down, and found Hades staring back at me in the amber light from one of the torches.
He was leaning back in one of the cushy wicker chairs, a rich red and black satin robe wrapped around him, showing off the space between his pectorals and the top of his muscled stomach. Hades wasn’t ripped or defined with minimal body fat. Hades was aman—rough like Ares, with a thick neck and muscles that you could also cuddle against and not feel as if you were lying on a washboard.
