All the blood rushed from his brain into his cock and he swayed on his feet. The woman didn’t wear panties.
“Surprise,” she whispered.
“And it’s not even my birthday,” he responded, staring at the dark curls between her legs.
She choked out a giggle and that’s when he went in for the kill. He used his thumbs to part her for his view. “Beautiful,” he said to reassure her and also because it was true. The scent of lavender intensified as he lowered his tongue to tease her. With gentle licks, sucks, and nibbles, he used his mouth to drive her higher and higher. The taste of her intoxicated him, made him feel as though he’d drank a bottle of wine on an empty stomach, dizzy and euphoric.
He lifted his head. “What’s my name?” he demanded.
She whimpered. “Don’t stop.”
“What’s my name?” he repeated, needing to hear his name on her lips as she came.
“Braden. It’s Braden,” she said as light as a sigh. “Please.”
“That man that hath a tongue, is no man, if with his tongue he cannot win a woman,” he said before descending to taste her once more.
“More Shakespeare?” she asked between breaths.
He didn’t pause to answer, but instead, sucked her clitoris between his teeth. Her legs trembled and his name spilled from her lips over and over as she climaxed. Not yet satisfied, he continued his exploration of her silky folds, gently probing and licking.
She sighed and tried to sit up, but he reached his arm out to gently press her back down. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Not surprisingly, he didn’t get an argument.
What did surprise him was the strange thought that washed over him as she shattered beneath his tongue a second time.
He didn’t know if he’d ever be done with her.
CHAPTER 10
What dost thou mean? Is it a world to hide
virtues in?
William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night, act 1, scene 3
While Braden worked in his office, Lola stood at the built-in cutting board in the kitchen of Acropolis, chopping green peppers, being extra careful not to slice off her fingers.
Two days. Two whole days had gone by since the piano incident, and not a single mention of it. How do you possibly thank someone for giving you two mind-blowing orgasms while you’re laid spread out like some Vegas all-you-can-eat buffet . . . especially when the guy doesn’t even ask for any relief of his own?
With remnants of her satisfaction on his lips, he’d helped her off the piano and scooted to make space for her to sit next to him on the bench, then they’d spent three hours writing songs as if nothing had happened.
Before they’d become physical with each other, they’d engaged in wicked banter and overt flirtation. Now, Braden had reverted to his serious businessman mode, giving her textbooks galore to study and memorize. At least it kept her mind occupied as she lay in the guest bed these last two nights, only two rooms away from him, with a subtle but constant throbbing between her legs keeping her awake and achy no matter how much she tried to sate it herself. Nope, Braden had spoiled her pussy and now only he could satisfy it. She’d roll around beneath the cool sheets tossing and turning as she tried to get him out of her mind. When that didn’t work, she’d grab a book and read about proper food storage or social security taxes. By four a.m., she’d finally drift off, only to dream of him. And the dreams had changed . . .
No longer trapped on her rock in the middle of the sea, she stood on a pebbled beach, dressed in a dress similar to a toga, white silk draped over her shoulder and cinched at the waist, with a glimmering golden sash around her middle.
After living for an eternity, she’d finally fallen in love. With a Mortal. Handsome, with shocking green eyes and long brown hair, it was his decency which had captured her heart. The man didn’t play the games of the Immortals, or even those of humanity.
She paced back and forth, rubbing her hands together to keep warm. She shivered, a sense of foreboding creeping into her consciousness. She’d left her father’s castle for good. Off with one of his many mistresses, she didn’t expect him to return until this evening, and by then, he could no longer stop her from becoming mortal.
“Euterpe!” her lover shouted from a hill far above the sea. Even from this distance, she saw the bruises on his face which marred his tanned skin with purple and black. Blood trickled from the side of his mouth, his precious lips split and swollen.
For the love of Zeus, what had happened to him?
She ran as fast as her immortal legs could run in this realm, not used to the burn in her muscles or the lack of air in her chest. “Demetrius!”