He moans with the change in angle, his head dropping for a split second as he renews his punishing rhythm, then snaps back to stare me in the eyes.
“Obsession has made you lose control,” I continue. “How could you ever claim to own me when I own every single thought in that pretty little head of yours?”
We share a loaded beat of silence. Gemini’s expression shutters, his smile dropping, and I can tell I struck a nerve.
Good.
He pulls out, and for a split second, I think I might have ruined the moment. Instead, he sits on the ground and tugs me onto his lap. My dress flutters around us as I grab the base of his shaft and use my weight to sink down on his cock in one mind-pulverizing movement.
We both moan in unison. Gemini’s mouth drops open in what looks like raptured awe. I’m struck by the softness in his expression, as if he’s lost all sense of his nefarious and taunting motives.
“Have my heir, beloved,” he rasps as his hand slips between us, his thumb stroking my swollen clit. “Give me the pleasure of pumping you full of my seed and watching your belly swell with my child.”
His tone is full of grit and determination, his gaze serious and steadfast as his free hand finds the base of my nape, his thumb resting close to my parted lips.
I can feel the shift in his intent—this isn’t a game anymore.
I slow my movements down, sliding up and down his cock in a teasing cadence. “Why are you in such a rush, Gem?” I ask sincerely, placing my hands atop his shoulders to help me hover over the tip of his cock.
He audibly groans, catching my lips with his as I sink back down, my pussy fluttering around his hard shaft. He kisses me with abandon, his thumb still circling my clit, sending shivers of pleasure throughout my body. My orgasm rushes over me, and I fight it for a little while longer, eager for this moment to last.
“This is not me rushing,” he says after breaking our kiss. His hands find my ass under my dress, squeezing hard while making me grind against him. “This is divine timing.”
The numbing tendrils of my climax slither into every small crevasse of my mind, and I lose all sense of self. I can’t hold it any longer. My body seizes, and my nails dig into Gemini’s shoulders.
He moans loudly, and my breath catches when I feel his teeth sink into the thin skin of my throat, his tongue immediately licking over the bite mark now smarting my neck.
I’ve barely come down from my orgasm before he rolls us forward, grabbing me behind the knees as my back hits the ground behind me. He pushes my legs up, practically folding me in half, the angle so deep that I can feel every inch of him pulsing inside of me.
“Do you trust me?” he grits, his voice strained by his own climax. He curses under his breath as he stills inside of me, then returns to fucking me.
The fleeting thought of having Gemini’s child has my core unexpectedly squeezing around his pulsing shaft while he continues to mindlessly fuck me through his orgasm.
Falling motionless, he finds the bite mark on my neck, peppering it with kisses. I caress his back, and something about his heated skin makes my heart flutter with affection. It’s followed by a bizarre pulse of apprehension, as if I sense something before my conscious mind ever can.
I never answer his question.
40
BELLADONNA
The ballroom is abuzz for Mercy and Wolfgang’s wedding reception. Half of the dance floor has been filled with round tables, covered in black velvet cloth. The intricate gold, black, and red flower arrangements at the center of each table are reminiscent of the very couple we are celebrating.
Dinner ended hours ago, and the guests have moved on to a more decadent and intoxicated way of celebrating. The wine and champagne flow freely, like blood from a severed artery, and if I squint my eyes just right, I’m sure I’ll find plenty of drugs being passed around too.
As a servant of our gods, I’m not affected by the manic need for excess that overcomes most mortals when in the vicinity of one of Vorovsky’s celebrations. And normally, I would never set foot on any of that degenerate’s properties … except I have twice now … in the span of a month.
I can’t deny the winds of change. Certainly, there is a new epoch knocking at our door. I must learn to be more adaptable, just like my peers, who seem a lot less bothered by change than me. That aside, I promised Mercy I would enjoy myself tonight,and my glass of Barolo, always topped off by attentive servers, has helped considerably.
Even Constantine doesn’t come off as shrill as I usually find her.
After spending some time dancing, I sit beside her at our table. A handful of dessert plates with half-eaten wedding cake still lingers, and I idly look for someone to take them away.
Constantine appears morose—an emotion I can’t say I’ve ever seen on her.
“Something the bother?” I ask over the music.
She huffs theatrically, the puff of air dancing in the pink feathers of her bustier. “I’m about to cut this cast off myself,” she whines. “I’m sobored …actually”—she straightens as if something just dawned on her and reaches for a knife still littering the table— “I’ll do it right now.”
