Tempted

  “No, it’s not. It’s because of you.”

  She held her breath as his lips met hers. Once. Twice. As gently as if he were touching glass. She moaned as he kissed her again, as his soft and supple lips swept over hers. Bringing her hands up to his chest, she felt the corded muscles beneath his skin, the power, and tilted her head to give him more. He took the invitation and opened, sliding his tongue into her mouth to tangle with hers until she went a little mad at the taste of him again.

  “Ah, kardia,” he mouthed against her lips.

  “I love it when you call me that.”

  He dropped the rag, wrapped both arms around her waist, and lifted her from the table. She responded by kissing him more deeply, sliding her legs around his hips and her fingers into his hair as she’d wanted to do from the first moment he stepped into the room. He carried her from the table, across the floor, and laid her out on the pile of blankets in the corner of the room, then peered down at her with eyes that weren’t nearly as soft as she’d thought before.

  No, these eyes were shimmering shards of onyx, filled with desire and yearning. And they were staring at her as if she were the only thing in the world he wanted.

  She wasn’t sure what had changed between this morning and now, but she wasn’t about to ask.

  “I want you to tell me what you like,” he whispered. “What you want.”

  She ran her hands up his muscular arms and eased up to kiss him again. “I like you. I just want you.”

  He kissed her deeply and eased down into the vee of her body, and her heart filled when the hard length of his shaft pressed through the cloth separating them, right where she wanted it most.

  He touched her, first with his fingers, then with his mouth, licking and kissing her most sensitive spots—the skin behind her ear, the base of her throat, the tips of her nipples—until she moaned in pleasure. And then he did it all again until she was panting for more.

  His mouth made a slow trek down her stomach, paused at her belly button so he could trace the indentation with his tongue. Her muscles quivered; her body arched in anticipation. She watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he kissed her lower belly and expertly popped the snap on her shorts with his teeth.

  The victorious grin he shot her curled her mouth, but it quickly faded into a moan of pleasure when he slid his hand into her shorts and moved lower to graze his fingers along her slit.

  “Mm, Princess. You’re wet for me.”

  She wasn’t just wet, she was soaked, and she didn’t want to wait. “Demetrius…”

  He pulled his hand free, then tugged the shorts from her hips. Cool air brushed her skin but was quickly replaced with his tantalizing mouth, blowing hot over her naked mound. She arched, groaned. He traced his fingers where he blew, careful only to graze the supercharged flesh. “I love the taste of you. Right here.”

  She pushed up on her hands, the erotic sight of him between her legs turning her blood to liquid fire in her veins. He lowered his head and she watched in awe as his talented tongue snaked out and made one long, lingering sweep of her cleft. Oh, gods. Her head fell back in pleasure. Her whole body clenched. She arched her hips to offer more and gave in to the ecstasy.

  He flicked her clit, stroked and swirled, brought her close to the edge, then backed off. Sweat beaded her brow, slid down her back to pool at the base of her spine as she twisted and tried to show him just where she wanted more. But he knew how to tempt her. Knew just how to tease her into a maddening frenzy. And no matter what she did, the climax she needed hovered just beyond her grasp.

  “Demetrius, oh, gods, I need you.”

  He lifted his head, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and flipped her onto her stomach so fast she gasped. Cloth rustled behind her, and then his hands slid under her torso, cupped her waist, and lifted. His warm, hard chest pressed into her spine, his strong bare thighs met the backs of her legs. One hand slid down her front and into her folds to tease her all over again. And his mouth, those sweet and tempting lips and that insanely erotic tongue, caught her earlobe and suckled.

  “Should I bind your hands, like you did mine last night?”

  Bind her? Oh, yes…His hot breath trailing her neck sent a shiver of delight through her whole body. His fingers teasing her flesh pushed her hips forward and back. His hard length pressing against her ass drew a moan from her lips. “Yes. Oh, yes, I don’t care what you do. I just need…”

  “What?” He nipped her earlobe with his teeth. But it didn’t hurt. If anything, the bite felt…electric, amping her need higher still. His fingers slid lower, deeper, inside, and she moaned as he filled her. He teased her breast with his other hand until her nipples turned into stiff aching peaks. “Gods, you’re so tight. Need what, kardia? Tell me.”

  “You,” she managed. She found his strong thigh with her hand and squeezed. “I need you. Now. Right now.”

  His fingers left her sheath. He tilted her forward, and she gasped as her body shifted, but the arm of steel wrapped around her torso kept her from falling. And then his cock was sliding along her slippery folds and she didn’t care about anything anymore. He could put her in any position he wanted, do whatever he needed to her body. As long as he found his way inside her, that was all that mattered.

  He pressed against her opening. Pushed inside just an inch. Slid back out. “Is this what you need?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  “Say it.”

  Her body quivered. “I need you, Demetrius. Fill me. I want to feel you.”

  He did, in one powerful thrust. Unlike last night, this time it didn’t hurt. It was the most exquisite feeling in the world. As if her body was made just for his. He was hard where she was soft, strong where she was fragile, and with every deep plunge, her climax barreled closer.

  With one hand she gripped the arm wrapped tightly around her waist; with the other she clamped on to his thigh as he moved inside her. She moaned with every rock of his hips, with every drag and pull. Turning her head to his, she kissed him deeply, moving with him, against him, then nearly came apart when his fingers found her clit and he flicked in time with his thrusts.

  “Yes, yes,” she mouthed against his lips.

  “Here?”

  “Yes. Oh, yes.”

  “You like me fucking you here?”

  “Yes.” Oh, gods, his voice, telling her what he was doing to her in such a basic way, was so damn erotic. No one ever talked to her that way. No one ever dared. “Yes. Please…don’t stop.”

  Her climax steamrolled its way toward her, but just as she reached the peak, he pulled out, twisted her around again so she fell against the blankets on her back. She groaned her frustration, but he captured it with his mouth, and then he filled her all over again in one mighty thrust. And she forgot everything but this, here with him, right now. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her legs around his back, and held on as he drove harder, deeper, as he kissed her as though he couldn’t possibly get enough. Not ever.

  “Now, kardia,” he whispered. “Come for me now.”

  She was powerless to do anything else. Her climax slammed into her with a force that stole her breath. Her whole body arched as spirals of light and electricity rippled through every cell, dragging his name from her lips. He thrust again and again, faster, longer, and grew impossibly hard inside her. She heard his own cry of release and marveled at the way every muscle in his body turned to stone beneath her hands, against her skin, inside her body.

  Seconds passed in silence as if they were frozen in time. Finally, he dropped his head against her shoulder and dragged air into his lungs. “I…oh, man…”

  A smile twined its way across her lips as she ran her fingers through his hair and tried to regulate her own breathing. She pressed a kiss against his temple. “Me too.”

  He pushed up on one hand and looked down as if judging her words for honesty, and in that moment, with his hair mussed, his face relaxed, and his body sated, he didn’t look a thing like the cruel, unfeel
ing guardian she’d known most of her life. Here, now, like this, he was simply the ándras she’d fallen in love with.

  His gaze slid from her face to her breasts, and heat built in her veins all over again under the searing look. And then his gaze moved lower, to her abdomen, where it hovered. He pushed up. “Hold still.”

  The heat of his body was gone before she could stop him. He crossed the floor, his nakedness reflecting the flickering candlelight as if he were a statue carved from marble. He reached for the rag from the table.

  Isadora looked down at her belly and saw the evidence of his release all over her skin.

  “Here.” He knelt by her side and used the rag to wipe away the remnants of his pleasure, then tossed it back across the room and eased down onto his side, tucking his arm under his head and pulling her into the curve of his body. “That’s better.”

  Isadora wasn’t so sure. Confused as to why he hadn’t finished inside her, she ran through their lovemaking in her head, searching for something she’d done wrong. But she couldn’t find a single moment that hinted of him not wanting her, not needing her as much as she’d needed him. Then she thought back to his infuriated reaction this morning. After she’d ridden them both to a blistering climax. After he’d finished inside her, then realized what he’d done.

  You don’t want to have a child with me.

  Why would I?

  She swallowed hard, and a shiver of doubt gnawed at her greatest fear. All this time she’d thought his coming back here tonight was a sign he was ready to take a step forward with her. Start anew. Make the greatest leap of faith there was. But she was wrong. This wasn’t a beginning. It was an ending. The sweetest, most painful ending she’d probably ever experience.

  Misreading her reaction, he reached for a blanket from the edge of the pallet and tossed it over their naked bodies. But he didn’t pull away, and he never once let go of her, as if he couldn’t bear the thought. He stroked her arm, her side, her stomach with his soft fingers and whispered the sweetest words in her ear, ones that, considering what she now knew, brought tears to her eyes.

  “Sleep, kardia. You need your strength for the morning. We both do.”

  She closed her eyes tight. But she didn’t sleep. She worked simply to keep from crying. Because her heart, which moments before had been so full, felt as if it were now leaking from a pinprick deep inside her chest.

  Tomorrow she did need her strength. She was going home to Argolea. Finally. But somehow, instinctively, she knew he wasn’t going with her.

  Chapter 20

  He was in heaven. Or the Elysian fields. Or wherever it was the blessed heroes went after they died. Glancing down at Isadora asleep in his arms, Demetrius figured, considering who and what he was, this was probably as close to paradise as he was ever going to get. And because of that he should be enjoying the moment rather than worrying about what came next.

  Except…how in Hades couldn’t he think about what came next?

  That ache lit off in his chest again, the same damn one he’d been fighting the last few hours, lying here in the wee hours of morning with her. He didn’t have another choice. He couldn’t go back to pretending anymore, and he didn’t trust himself to be with her. Not after what had happened earlier.

  Who was he kidding? Even if there was a way to guarantee she’d never get pregnant, he still couldn’t be with her. If she ever found out the truth about him…That ache intensified. He couldn’t bear the thought of what that knowledge would do to her. What the Council would do to her. What would happen to their homeland if word got out the heir to the throne had shacked up with the enemy’s son.

  No. The only solution was to take her home, then get as far away as possible. This time for good. She needed to find a mate, to give the kingdom heirs, and cement the monarchy so the Council couldn’t overthrow her reign and fuck things up, and he wasn’t strong enough—not anymore—to sit back and watch her fall in love with someone else.

  He closed his eyes, told himself this was for the best. The only thing he could do. The one thing he should have done long ago.

  “You think loudly, Demetrius.”

  His eyes shot open and he looked down at Isadora. Her head rested on his shoulder and her sleek body was tucked tightly to his under the blanket, but her shimmering brown eyes registered the distance he’d already started drawing out between them.

  “Was I talking out loud?” Shit. Had he voiced his thoughts?

  “No, but I’ve been around you long enough now to know what you’re thinking.” She pushed up to sitting and drew the blanket around her torso, hiding her luscious breasts from view. “There’s no way to change your mind, is there?”

  Skata. She did know. “You’re not well, Isadora. I have to take you home in the morning.”

  She nodded, looked down at her hands in her lap. “But you’re not staying, are you? Once we go home, you’re leaving Argolea.”

  His heart cracked. The heart he hadn’t even known existed before her. He chose his words carefully because, as shitty as he’d been to her over the years, he didn’t want to make this any harder on her than it already was. “I think, considering the circumstances, it would be best if I left.”

  “Best for whom?”

  “Best for you.”

  Her eyes darted his way and the fire he saw flash there reminded him of the gynaíka who’d stood up to a god. And a warlock. And him, more times than he could count. “At least do me the courtesy of not lying. Not now.”

  She rose, taking the blanket with her, and crossed the floor to find her clothes. His illusions had faded, and what candles were left had burned down to almost nothing. Soft warm light spilled over her as she bent to pick up her shirt.

  He sat up, reached for his pants. “Isadora—”

  She tossed the blanket to the ground, tugged on her dirty shorts, and wriggled into her filthy tank top, the flash of skin in the low light hitting him on the most basic of levels. “I just want to know one thing. Why did you come back here with me if you were planning to take me home tomorrow and then split?” She waved her hand around the room. “What was the purpose of this?”

  There wasn’t one. Except for him being a selfish-ass bastard. He rose, pulled on his pants. “I don’t know. I just wanted…”

  “What?”

  Frustrated, he raked a hand through his hair. “To be with you.”

  “Obviously not.”

  The bite to her voice brought his head up. Her short blond hair stuck out all over her head. Her cheeks were sun kissed, her skin brown, and staring at him from across the room with candlelight flickering behind her, she looked like a deity of the earth. Like one of the original Horae, the personifications of nature and the goddesses of balance and order.

  The heart that had cracked earlier broke open wide. “Do you think I want this? I want you. But there’s no way…Skata.” He looked down at his forearms, covered with the markings of the Argonauts. “There’s no way that will work.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because it won’t.”

  “Because of me.”

  His head darted up again. “No. This has nothing to do with you.”

  “Because I’m royal. Because of the monarchy.”

  “No. It’s not about that. I don’t care about—”

  “Then what?”

  He looked back at his hands. Gods, he was such a fake. He shouldn’t have these markings. Shouldn’t be allowed in Argolea. Sure as shit shouldn’t be with her now. Her life would be so much better if he’d been thrown to the humans like his brother. If she’d never even met him.

  His voice wavered even though he tried to keep it steady. “It’s not about you, okay? It’s me. I just can’t…”

  Yeah. Like he could finish that sentence? He swallowed hard.

  “What aren’t you telling me, Demetrius?”

  “Nothing.” Everything.

  “Nothing,” she repeated. Then louder, “No, I think it’s definitely something.” She crossed
to the end of the bed and her voice, which had been steady before, dropped to a whisper. So soft and tempting, it called to the very center of him in a way nothing and no one ever had before. “Just tell me what’s going on.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?”

  He shook his head even as that hole in his heart grew wider. “What’s the difference? Either way it adds up to the same damn thing.”

  She stood still for several minutes, eerily silent. Finally, when he couldn’t stand the quiet anymore, he looked at her, then wished he hadn’t. Her face was drawn, her shoulders slumped, but it was the heartbreak in her eyes that would stay with him long after this conversation was over.

  He reached for her. “Isadora—”

  She moved out of his grasp. “No, don’t. Don’t say anything else.” She turned toward the stairs.

  Panic rushed in. “Where are you going?”

  “I need some air.”

  “It’s still dark outside. You can’t leave—”

  “I’m not suicidal, Demetrius. I won’t leave the ruins. I’ll stay within the walls. I just want some fresh air.”

  He shouldn’t let her go up there alone, but he knew she was struggling to stay in control, just as he was. And after the way he’d just hurt her, he owed her a few minutes to collect herself.

  She moved up three steps, then hesitated and turned back to face him. But she didn’t meet his eyes. Instead she focused on his chest and bit her lip as if thinking through what she wanted to say. Firelight flickered over her features and he knew right then, soul mate curse or not, there was never going to be anyone else in his life that mattered as much as she did.

  “You said I’d regret this.” Her voice, usually strong and confident, was so soft he barely heard her. “Do you remember that? You said when I went home I’d look back on my time here with you and regret every moment of it.”

  He swallowed again, loathing the fact his warning had now come true. “Yeah,” he managed. “I remember.”