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She gave a throaty moan and opened her lips, her hands coming up to wrap around his waist. He couldn’t help the rumble of satisfaction that erupted from his chest. So many things he’d been denied with this woman were finally achieving reparation.
He didn’t need to assure himself that he could have had her any other way, but it helped that she was as helpless to this strain of insanity as he was.
In the years he’d been gone from this place he’d had a glut of liaisons—enough to satisfy him that he didn’t need any one person...especially a forbidden princess named Odessa Santella.
Yet here he was, devouring her as if she was the sole reason he drew breath.
Ares ignored the pointed throat-clearing from across the room and tangled her tongue with his, unable to resist one last taste.
It came again—louder, insistent.
Odessa pulled back sharply, her hands pushing at him as she tried to put distance between them.
Deliberately or reluctantly—he couldn’t be sure—he took his time in releasing her, lifting his head to lock his eyes on their unwanted intruder.
‘Flávio.’
If Ares had despised Elio, his younger brother came a close second simply because he’d been more than happy to ride his brother’s thuggish coattails and carry out his orders without compunction. Flávio had been the messenger who had gleefully delivered Elio’s poisoned edict, which had triggered the events that had sent Ares away from this place.
He watched the other man take in their embrace, watched his calculating eyes working out how to turn it to his advantage. Ares’s mouth soured, but still he didn’t release her.
‘I don’t remember giving you permission to enter.’
Flávio’s eyes blazed momentarily with malice. Ares knew that ten years ago Flávio would’ve reacted differently. And, yes, he knew there was definite satisfaction in watching the other man mind his tongue. Just as he knew that by challenging him he’d made Odessa’s situation ten times worse.
So did she, by the way she stiffened and then tried to push away from him.
‘Stay.’ He rasped the warning in her ear.
For a microsecond she heeded him, and then the innate rebel smothered by years of oppression fought back, tossing another log onto the fire blazing within him. Her body brushed his, bringing an unwanted reminder that he was fully aroused at being this close to her, and he felt her soft breath against his jaw, smelled her spicy scent in his nostrils.
He hissed as her movement brought her wrist over his engorged flesh. Ignoring Flávio, Ares slid his finger beneath her chin, bypassing her swollen lips to snag her gaze.
‘If you want my help you’ll do as I say.’
She stilled after another second, her eyes narrowing on his. He wanted to remind her that he never said anything he didn’t mean. But what use was that reassurance when he knew the same didn’t apply to her? She’d heeded his command when it mattered. That was a good start. Her rebellion would be enjoyable in the right setting.
Registering that he was making plans as if this was a forgone conclusion disconcerted him, but he hadn’t achieved success beyond his wildest dreams by not being able to think on his feet.
‘You’re still here, Flávio. Can we help you?’
Odessa made a tiny, protesting noise, her eyes flashing wildly at him. He slid a soothing hand down her back before he could help himself.
‘My niece’s presence has been missed. It’s her father’s funeral, after all. We don’t want to raise questions.’
Ares laughed. ‘You don’t? Because you care about impropriety?’
Flávio’s gaze dropped to his hand on her waist and his face tightened. ‘Odessa is a good woman. It won’t do to have her honour questioned.’
‘We both know her honour isn’t why you’re here. Run along. We’ll be out shortly.’
‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she murmured once Flávio had departed, the hard click of the door signalling his displeasure.
His gaze dropped to her mouth, savage hunger tearing through him. ‘Which part? The part where I reacquainted myself with how surprisingly sublime you taste? Or getting rid of your uncle?’
Colour surged into her face and he itched to trace it with his fingers. Then his mouth.
‘Both! You may enjoy baiting a viper, but I don’t.’
