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I won’t think about the future. Not right now. Not until we leave this tower. It can wait. It can all wait.
Aron’s gaze is locked on me as he gently pulls the buckles free of my wide belt and then slowly removes my long gown. When I’m naked on the bed, he straightens and begins to undress. I always forget just how powerful Aron’s body is. There’s not an inch of fat on him, and he’s all corded muscle and obliques. His six-pack ripples down his abdomen, and he’s no longer as pale as he was when I met him, as if he’s gained color—and life—simply by being in this world. Scars cover practically every inch of his skin, though, and I forget just how many he has until he undresses and shows me again. The long-healed gashes show red and sometimes white against his skin, some smaller and rougher, others large and long and deadly. The one on his face that crisscrosses over his green eye is the one I’m most familiar with, and I look up at him, worried. So many scars. So many brutal battles. Seeing him like this can get a little overwhelming, and every mark of a blade on him is a reminder that we might not win.
“You’re frowning. Do you not like my scars?” Aron asks, and there’s amusement in his voice as he stands over the edge of the bed, looming in that arrogant way of his. Of course he’s arrogant. He’s a god, but more than that, he’s fucking amazing and he knows it. I no longer see his arrogance as irritating, more just a quirk of who he is. And I love all of him. “Do you want to know the stories behind each wound? All of them have a tale behind them.”
I shake my head and raise a hand to him. “I just want to hold you, actually. Can we do that?”
“I can withhold no request from you,” he says, and climbs into bed next to me. We’re naked together, flesh pressed to flesh for the first time, and this feels way more intimate than anything we’ve ever done before.
Tentatively, I put my hand on his stomach. We’re facing each other, inches apart, and his hand goes possessively to my hip, as if he has to touch me at all times. “This is the first time I’m getting to touch you, do you realize that?”
“You’ve grabbed me before. I distinctly remember several times in which I had to pry your eager hands off of my cock.”
I laugh, because I remember that, too. “So are you going to push my hands away again today?” And I slide one down to his dick, just to test that theory.
“Never again,” he says solemnly. “I am yours to claim, just as you are mine.”
I am totally going to test that theory. I sit up in bed, gazing down at him as he rolls onto his back and tucks a hand behind his head, the most casual of men. As if we’ve done this a dozen times already. Truth is, I’m itching to touch him. I remember each furtive touch I gave him in the past and how he pulled me away. The realization that he won’t do that again is a heady one.
And the man is stinking beautiful. It doesn’t matter that his body is covered in scars. There’s no part of him that isn’t perfection. I trace a finger down one long, jagged red mark that crosses his belly and arches over to his hip. His pectorals are hard and flat, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow.
His dick is just as enormous as I remember from those furtive touches and our time earlier in the hall. I knew he was well equipped. I mean, no god is going to have a teeny weenie. And when we made love a short time ago? He was so big that it felt life-changing. Looking at him now, I see that it wasn’t just my imagination. His cock is long and thick, the head prominent. Veins trace up and down his shaft, leading down to a lightly furred ball sac that can only be described as thick. Every inch of him is thick and meaty and my mouth waters at the sight. I think of all the times that he made me lose control, and I want to do the same to him.
Out in the hall? That was the first time I ever saw Aron lose his shit. When he pushed me against the wall and fucked me as if he would die if he wasn’t inside me in the next moment. That was heady stuff, and I want to see it happen again. I want him to lose his mind with pleasure.
Which means figuring out what he likes.
Which means I get to play with his cock. I smile, feeling a bit like a cat that licked the cream, and lean over him. He’s a god, and so he’s probably done everything a million times before. I don’t want to think about that, so I’m going to focus on enjoying him myself. On pleasing me with his body, because that’s all I have to offer in this equation—me.
So I lean over him and let my long hair tease his thighs, tilting my head to the side as I study him. I make sure not to block his view, because I suspect he wants to watch. His gaze is on me, and I can feel his body tensing ever so slightly. It makes me feel powerful.
I’m the first mortal he’s wanted in forever. Me. That gives me all kinds of power over this strong, sexy god. He might be the lord of storms, but I’m the one he lost control with. I’m the one he was so desperate to fuck that he pushed me against a wall and plowed into me where anyone could see.
Smiling, I slowly wrap my hand around his cock, testing his girth. He’s so thick that my fingers don’t meet, and I shiver a little at the memory of how he’d felt deep inside me. I lazily squeeze the base of him, liking the intake of breath that he makes, and then release him so I can glide one finger along a vein, tracing it to the prominent head of his cock, where it disappears underneath the edge of the crown.
He growls, all impatience, and as I watch, a bead of pre-cum appears on the head of his cock, swiftly followed by another.
“What does a god taste like?” I murmur, moving forward so I’m leaning over his cock, my hair falling around my shoulders.
“See for yourself,” he rasps, and the look in his eyes is intense. How did I ever think this man wasn’t affected by me? I know at some point I’m going to tease and he’s going to break, and then he’s going to fuck me hard again, just because he won’t be able to help himself.
My thighs squeeze with excitement at the thought, and that hollow ache in my belly returns. I want that. I want to make him break with lust. I love that thought.
I lean in and use the tip of my tongue to lap up each salty drop, cleaning his cock. He tastes good, but I’m probably biased and it has nothing to do with him being a god and god-cum somehow being tastier. I just love everything about Aron—even his arrogance. “It’s just all right,” I tease.
He scowls. “My seed tastes better than any other seed and you know it. Taste me again.” And his hand goes to my hair, as if he’ll guide me down.
I shrug, leaning in to the game, and give his cock-head another swipe with my tongue. “Not bad.”
Aron’s breath hisses out. “Woman—”
“I’m just saying, I’ve had better.”
“No, you haven’t.” He gives me another one of those smug grins, then pushes my head down again. “You must not have tasted it right. Take more of it into your mouth.”
I feign ignorance. “You think I should?”
“Absolutely.”
An erotic thrill charges through me as he gently tugs my head downward. It makes me feel sexy, and I’m squirming with need, wiggling my hips as I lean down and grip his cock again, then take him into my mouth. He’s so big that he stretches my lips, and it’s hard to tongue him properly. I glide him as deep as I can, and then ease him back once more, giving the head a lick.
“Well?” He’s breathing harder.
“I need to taste again, just to be sure,” I murmur, then pull him into my mouth again, working the base of his cock with my hand. I keep my mouth wet, coating his big cock with my saliva, and take him a little deeper this time, and then deeper still when I work his shaft back into my mouth, gliding him along my tongue. I take him so deep that he hits the back of my throat and then I rise up, biting back the choked sound that threatens to erupt. And I look up at him.
His eyes are slits of pleasure, the hand in my hair loose, and there’s such a blatantly erotic look to him that I’m breathless with need.
“Do you know how beautiful you are when you do that?” he murmurs.
“You’re just saying that so I’ll go down on you again.”
“You’ll do it anyhow,” Aron says, his fingers gliding to stroke my chin. “Because you get aroused from pleasuring me.”
He’s right, the arrogant jerk. Right now my pussy is totally wet and sensitive, aching with need. I love touching him, his hot skin, his big cock, and I love that he’s turned on, too. Just knowing I can do this to him makes me crazy with need. I just smile and take him deep again, working him with my mouth, with my tongue, with everything I can because I want to see him lose control.
The low groan he lets out makes my pussy clench. I redouble my efforts, licking the length of his cock from base to tip, teasing his sac, doing everything I can to make him snap. I’ve barely taken the head of his cock into my mouth again when he rocks his hips lightly, thrusting, fucking my mouth. He shuttles his cock in and out, using my face as he breathes my name. I love it, and with my free hand, I slip my fingers between my thighs so I can touch myself. I’m so aroused I can’t wait for more. I need to come just as badly as he does.
“No,” he grits out, and then gives my hair a tug, just enough to make me lift my head off his cock. “That’s mine.”
“What’s yours?” I pant, breathless.
“That pussy.” His eyes flare with heat.
“I need more.” I squirm, rubbing my fingers through my soaking folds. “Is that so bad? Touching you gets me worked up—”
“You’ll wait,” he says, all arrogance.
I groan at his words, because as dickish as it is, it also makes me hot. Is this going to be a contest between us then? Because I can play that game, too. I pretend to acquiesce, moving my hand back to the bed, and take his cock with my other hand. I lean in, letting my breath fan over the wet head and hovering over it, teasing him.
“Faith,” he breathes, his gaze utterly fascinated as he watches me. “Take me into your mouth again.”
I look over at him and give him a sultry little smile. “You’ll wait.”
Laughter barks out of him, and in the next moment, he’s got us reversed. Suddenly I’m on my back and he’s the one over me. His hair slides over his shoulder and he grins down at me, full of lust and amusement. “You’re the only mortal who thinks she can go toe to toe with a god, aren’t you?”
I suck in an eager breath as his hands go to my body, jerking my thighs apart and sliding them around his hips. “Maybe I just like giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
“Or maybe you just like it when I take you hard and rough,” he murmurs, then leans in and claims my mouth with a punishing, possessive kiss. That’s the only warning I get before he thrusts into me, taking me just as hard and rough as he promised.
And oh god, it’s so good.