Page 181 of The Games Gods Play
The sight makes my heart stutter, heat and something more filling those beautiful eyes—hells, his entire being—with a light that makes every part of me hot.
I have a single heartbeat to absorb all those impressions before he captures my mouth in a kiss that turns to wildfire at the first spark of lips against lips.
A restlessness consumes me—consumes us both, I think—as his hands are everywhere, caressing every part of me, lingering when he makes me gasp. Teasing mercilessly when he makes me moan.
And with each new discovery, with the feel of his hands on me and him under mine, we both turn more frantic. If we only have what little he can give, what we can both give, then I’m taking everything I can and offering him everything in return.
But soon my restless energy isn’t soothed by hands and mouth alone.
I want more.
“Hades,” I moan, winding my arms around his neck, practically crawling up his body to wrap my legs around his waist.
I gasp when he suddenly lifts me out of the water and sets me on the top of the rock ledge, which is about a foot thick. Instinct has me glancing over my shoulder. The drop behind me seems to go on forever, sheer and deadly. I cling to his arms as my stomach clenches, and when I face him again, I’m breathing hard, eyes wide, only to have my heart pound even faster at the intensity of the satisfaction on his face.
And another bolt of his emotions crackles through me.
Fascination.
“I knew it.” He breathes the words. “Danger makes you fight, makes you alive, sets your senses on fire.”
Because you see me.
I think he’s always seen the real me. Because he’s a god, or maybe the god of death, or maybe this is just who Hades is. He sees me.
The same way I see him.
He reaches up and cups the back of my head, bringing my lips down to his, as if my response only jacked his own desire up another notch. This kiss is hard, demanding. He nips at my lower lip and soothes it with his tongue, then draws back. And I’m moaning into his mouth and trying to climb back down to him.
He’s right. Even now, my body feels so…primal. I am like our mingled breaths, like air, floating and flying and alive at his will.
He pulls away sharply, slashes of red over his cheekbones. “Lean back.”
A command.
When I immediately obey, all the answering fire in him coalesces into a look that is all things wild heat and wicked teasing and tender adoration.
My heart stutters at the adoration.
“Hold on to me, my star,” he warns. “And don’t let go.”
89
Make Me
Before I can guess at what he’s going to do, he presses my legs apart and lowers his head. I’m leaned out over the drop as I cling to his arms, his hands holding me by the waist, and his mouth…
His mouth.
With that sinful tongue, he laps at the heart of me. He takes all the sensation we’ve been building together and intensifies it, ratchets it up until my body is pulsing. He slips a finger inside me, then another, stretching me, moving them in time to what he’s doing with his mouth, his tongue.
And oh…gods…
The explosion of sensation blindsides me. No warning. I go off like a bang, and I cry out as everything about me draws in hard before rushing outward. I cry out again when he suddenly lifts me off the ledge, pulling me hard into him.
“Wrap your legs around me. Now.”
I do, and, staring into my eyes, he lowers me until the swollen, jutting tip of his cock presses against where I’m slick with the pleasure he’s already given me. I’m still pulsing with it. His dimples appear in full force as he offers me a wicked grin.
