Page 54 of Hercules

No.

He belonged on an altar in a sacred sanctuary.

Hers.

Especially as he aligned his face once more with hers. Gazed down on her with those pure aqua eyes, twin heavens in the face of her rugged hell angel, while continuing to wrest the high, needy whines from her throat—

Detonating into the fireworks of her orgasmic scream.

Cliche metaphor? Yes. But a perfect fit for the moment? Oh dear freaking God, yes.

Her body, already feeling like a marshmallow from the force of his sensual focus, also felt like something that far detached. A chunk of goo at the end of a long stick. A faraway glob, swirling into a new form with every second it was grazed by his incredible flames, ready to become liquid once the heat fully engulfed her.

She should’ve known better.

Should’ve realized he was hiding secret firecrackers.

And was ready, with the deft pistol between his legs, to punch them into her senses when she least expected it.

“Herc. Oh my hell…”

Again, at least her vocabulary cooperated in staying on theme. This was hell, with her mouth falling open but his staying so serene. With stars dancing at the edges of her vision, only to be the perfect frame for his classic, carved face. The features that almost taunted her with their intent adoration.

“Oh, yeah,” he murmured. “There she is.” His lips covered hers, so warm and wet and retaining a faint taste of her. But the essence was now mixed with his masculine musk, eliciting a fresh rush of arousal through her most sensitive parts. “I ómorfi erastís mou,” he whispered against her cheek. “My beautiful lover. So wet. So sweet. So perfect.”

So wondering where he’d stowed the firecrackers for his own release…

But also, once again, unable to push the words out in full force. Not when Herc was giving as well as he’d gotten: showing her all the truth he’d just fried out of every cell she possessed, only five times brighter. Richer. Fiercer.

Fireworks.

The saturated palettes of his eyes. The exhilarating flares of his nostrils. The entrancing flexes of his muscles, coiling then receding beneath his gold-tinted skin in faster and faster repetitions—

Until the time he clenched it all—and held.

Tighter. Then tighter.

Stopping every molecule of Lo’s breath in matching measure.

Tighter. Then tighter.

An ache so worth it, when he finally released all the pressure—by way of his magnificent cock.

“Lois. Holy fff…”

And his glorious growl.

“So good. This little mouní has mesmerized me.”

And oh yes, that part too. It didn’t matter that he might have referenced anything from her belly button to her nose to one of her soft sighs into his neck; the effect on her naughty buttons was exactly the same. One of those buttons in particular…

The little switch that, unbelievably, sparkled back to life beneath his continuing thrusts. Then even more, shocking her enough to gasp against his lips as he leaned down and locked her in another torrid kiss. But more than that, stunned her with the newest of his sinful snarls.

“Does it have more for me, sexy little scribe? Your wet little mouní? Because this dick is sure as hell not done with you yet.”

CHAPTER 15

“Are you kidding me? Again?”