“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Kalos leans in and tugs at the laces with his teeth. “You smell …smellgood.”
“Probably because I don’t smell like goat or three days of road travel.”
“I don’t mind you smelling like goat.” The dress falls open, revealing my breasts, and Kalos buries his face in my cleavage.
“Just the road travel?” I chuckle. My head gives another painful throb, but then Kalos is kissing over my collarbones, and the headache smooths away as quickly as it appeared. “I wonder if this means we can stop for a while.”
“We can. We can even go get the goat, if you like?”
“And I can finish my book,” I say dreamily, arching as he tugs the laces open even further. The front of the dress falls to the side, my nipples pointing at the air.
He mouths one tip, rolling it with the tip of his tongue before giving it a playful, soft bite. “Beautiful breasts. Lovely tits. How can I look away from such perfection?”
I’m noticing that he speaks more freely when he poses things as a question, instead of a statement. Because he’s got Lies fighting to make its presence known, he pauses a lot of the time, as if forcing himself to speak around his compulsion to lie. But when he says things like this, I don’t care if he asks it as a rhetorical question or not.
The reverence on his face tells me how he feels.
I touch him as he runs his lips over my torso, playing with his hair and stroking the shell of his ear. He’s still fully dressed, and I want to caress his skin the way he’s caressing mine, but I’m so tired that it’s nice to just be passively loved on for a while. It’s ironic that our roles have reversed a bit, and it makes me wonder. “How’s your apathy, Kalos? Do you feel different now?”
He lifts his head as he kisses just above my navel. “You want to talk about that now?”
“Just curious.”
The god grunts, then returns to his ministrations, his tongue dipping into my belly button. “Better. It’s still there, but it’s like a subtle spice instead of an overwhelming taste.”
Just hearing that makes me want to weep. I know how much he’s struggled over the last few months. How many days has he sat, staring into space, hating every moment of being trapped in this form? “I’m so glad, Kalos. All I ever wanted for you was to feel better.”
He shakes his head, pushing my skirts up. “You’re too good, Elsie. You should want something for yourself.”
“I do. I want you.”
Kalos groans. He finishes pushing my skirts up and buries his face between my thighs. With a gasp, I spread my legs wider, welcoming him to do as he wants with me. I want nothing more than for this moment to last forever. I want his kisses all over my body, the heat of his skin, the weight of him as he moves to settle his body over mine.
I wrap myself around him as he frees his cock from his pants, and when he sinks into me, I gasp with how good it feels. He kisses away my cries of pleasure, driving me into the mattress with the force of his strokes. It’s a perfect, blissful moment.
At times like this, I want to be Kalos’s for all time. Just stay right here, wallowing in some stranger’s bed, wearing some stranger’s clothing, but happy and loved.
There’s nothing better.
Chapter
Forty-Three
“Time to go.”
I don’t see who says it, but the words instill fear in my heart. I jerk awake, leaping up from the bed. I’m alone, the sheets tousled, and I frown as I look around the room. “Where’s Kalos?”
The room is empty. There’s no one around.
No sign of Kalos.
Worry flares through me and I lace my dress up quickly, shoving my feet into my loose slippers once more. My legs feel strangely heavy and when I leave the room, it’s like I’m wading through mud. Kalos isn’t in the hall, and I move from one room to the next, looking for a familiar head of silvery hair.
“Kalos?” I call out. No one answers.
The servants lurk in shadowy corners, and no one meets my eyes. It’s like they all know something I don’t, and it makes me panic even more.
“Kalos?” I call over and over again. “Kalos, where are you?”
