Page 22 of Taming Winter

I allowed a lazy smile and stroked my hands up his arms. The buzz of my post-orgasm radiated through me in waves, more effective than any drug. He chuckled at my placated expression, only to press a tender kiss to my lips. "We aren't even close to done, my goddess."

"Is that so?" I smirked at him in a silent challenge. Even if I didn't hold a contract, I was still in charge.

"Yes, I still have so much appreciation to show you."

He rolled his hips against me and loosed a shuddered moan. The black petals of desire blossomed in my chest at his desperation. "Beg, handsome."

He paused for a moment, his lips tracing along my neck in a trail of love bites. For a moment, I thought he would fight me. I almost longed for him to fight me, so I could put him in his place. Instead, he pressed a tender, needy kiss to my collarbone and spoke in a passive whimper. "Please, Master. Please let me bury myself in you."

My eyes rolled back at his submission, fucking gods it was perfect. I pushed against him, and though he groaned in complaint, he complied by sitting up. His shirt was disheveled, and the outline of his cock showed through his trousers. I grinned. "You can have me, but on my terms."

His face twisted with confusion until I guided him to lay on his back. Then a self-satisfied smirk spread across his lips, and he complied. I trailed my fingers over the bulge in his pants and made quick work of the snaps. His cock sprang from the restraint. I brushed my palm over his shaft and smiled at the shudder that lanced through his body. His fists shifted at his hips as though he was fighting the urge to reach for me. No, he was being good for me, and that made me salivate.

I freed myself of my gown and threw it to the side before climbing on top of him. I pressed my palms to his stomach. The grating sensation of his shirt made my teeth grind together in frustration. This wouldn't do at all. This was supposed to be skin to skin—a melding of our essence. So, I gripped the seam and ripped it open in a spray of buttons to reveal his chiseled chest, rising and falling in rapid pants.

Then I descended upon his cock. I moved slowly to bask in the pleasure of his shaft stretching me wide. Each languorous inch tore a moan from both of us until the sounds of pleasure blended into a symphony that echoed through the empty room and off the surrounding weaponry. Once I settled to the hilt, he reached up to grip my hips, but paused an inch away in a silent question. Good goddess he was perfect: handsome and obedient.

"You can touch me," I breathed, my voice coming out in a low purr that I hardly registered as my own.

His fingers dug into my hips, his touch firm but reverential. His gaze had trailed from my face to his shuddering hands, and a moan fell from his lips. "I see why they labeled you a goddess now."

I froze in my rocking and gaped at him. The goddess I was supposed to be reflected at me in that frosted gaze. I gulped, unaccustomed to the emotions flooding me and threatening to spew. I trailed my nails across his jawline.

"You really were made just for me," I breathed. "You’re doomed to be mine forever, handsome."

"I wouldn't want it any other way," he responded without pause.

A grin broke across my face. Instead of succumbing to the softness welling in my chest, I showed him exactly how serious I was in a way we both understood. I wrapped my hand around his throat. His eyes heated, and he tilted his head in compliance. Using his throat to stabilize me, I bounced on him at a violent pace.

The room fell away to the feeling of his body inside mine and our shared breath and moans. His fingers dug into the meat of my thighs to the point of breaking skin, the pain blending with the pleasure until I screamed in bliss.

My ecstasy built in the pit of my stomach, steadily reaching the precipice. I was ready to fall over the edge with him, ready for him to fill me with his pleasure so I would remember this moment for hours. As heat built in my core, my nails dug into his throat and left faint crescent moons of blood. His cock twitched inside me and his eyes rolled back, showing he loved my violence as much as I loved giving it.

His gaze returned to mine. "Harder, please, Master. Use me."

His words were a shot of adrenaline into my veins. I moaned and let my head fall back, giving in to what I needed to get off. He took it, too, matching my moans with his own. Soon his hips were jerking to catch mine in vicious thrusts.

I hurled over the edge like a woman in free fall. I was no longer in my body. My screams fell away to my pleasure, and the only thing that mattered was riding out my orgasm. Thane followed, and his cock throbbing inside me made my bliss fly higher.

I glanced at my body, glistening with sweat, to Thane beneath me. He had slouched back, his expression one of lazy satisfaction. He rubbed his hand up my thigh. "I am going to tear it all down for you, Your Highness."

CHAPTER 21

THANE

A haunting, melancholy tune echoed through the low-lit theater. I stood alone in an empty viewing box across from Apollo's, where six beautiful women vying for his attention surrounded him. I allowed my gaze to trail to the woman center stage, her chest heaving with the tune.

The play was a good one. The drama unfolded into a tragedy that had drawn my gaze despite my best efforts to keep my attention on Apollo. The curtains closed, taking more light with them, and the audience stood to clap. I returned my focus to my target. My identity was protected with a delicate mask of iron snowflakes rising in spikes over my cheekbones. It shifted with my movement, so I gripped the cold metal's edge and returned it to its proper place.

Apollo stood, though his harem swarmed him and stopped his progress toward the door. It was typical, I supposed, and the reason there were so many so-called demigods in Olympiara. People were desperate for the protection and freedom that came from associating with an immortal. I didn't blame those women, though their efforts would be fruitless.

I exited my booth to make my way to the staircase. Access to the viewing boxes came from the same staircase, which was a failure on the architects' part to account for the safety of the high-value clientele that would be using this space. No matter, it benefited me. Chain twisted around my wrist, I took the first steps on the marble staircase lined with plush blue velvet.

My mind ran through my methodical internal checklist. This capture needed stealth, efficiency, and finesse. I couldn't draw the other patrons' attention. Based on my calculations, I had about five minutes to neutralize Apollo and his gaggle of whores.

Sultry chatter spilled into the hallway, and I tuned it out to continue through my list. The chain was the primary plan of attack. If I hit him across the temple, it should stun him long enough for me to wrap his wrists. Hades assured me it would contain him. I also had my trusty Beretta on my hip, and I could use my powers as a last resort, though that meant dropping the chain. The stairs were the only escape, which would be a benefit and a liability.

The voices grew louder, and my nerves sparked with steadying adrenaline. My last battle with an immortal did not go in my favor, but this time had to be different. There was a world where I created a new life for myself, better than the one I had called my own during my living days. I wasn't fucking risking it.