For a moment, his mouth was demanding and rough against her lips until he gathered control of himself again, gentling. She dropped one arm from his shoulders, wriggled her hand between their bodies, and stroked him through his pants. His stiffening cock jerked up so hard it took him by surprise, though it was trapped painfully beneath denim. With a groan, Alex turned his lips from hers but continued his kisses down her throat.
And still he couldn’t stop. Esme’s pebbled nipples stood out against her thin top, her breasts bare beneath her camisole. He took the first into his mouth, suckling it through the thin cotton while he palmed the other. It wasn’t enough. He ached for her, driven to hear his name on her lips again and again.
“Lay back for me, beautiful,” he whispered when he released her breast.
“But then I can’t touch you,” she said, breathless.
“But I can touch you.”
He yanked off the remnants of her leggings, then removed her panties before they became another casualty. They were skimpy, black lace, and he wanted to see them on her again.
Esme’s thighs trembled beneath his touch, and her left leg jerked as he skimmed his palms over a ticklish spot near her knee. The discovery delighted him, like finding a secret treasure. Careful to keep his touch light, he traced his fingers upward again and sought out the warm junction between her thighs. He teased his thumb over the neatly trimmed dark curls, then dropped a kiss below her navel.
“Alex, please.”
“Tell me what you want, Esme.”
“I want... I want you to touch me. Taste me. I want your mouth on me.”
Having Esme stretched before him was a gift he couldn’t take for granted. He watched her face while he stroked her. Her silken heat tempted him as nothing had before, and his cock strained against his jeans, but he resisted the urge to claim her in favor of granting her the bliss he denied himself.
Did she want to be filled with him as much as he needed to be inside her?
His fingers thrust to the rhythm of her hips, curving inside her to find the tender spot that drove her wild. Her breath came in pants, hitched when he found what he wanted and delivered what she needed.
At the last possible second, as Esme’s body tightened around his fingers, he knelt and answered her plea, putting his mouth to her sweet folds. He flicked his tongue against the sensitive pearl and growled his mutual pleasure when both of her hands tightened in his hair. Then he captured the tender bundle between his lips and sucked.
Esme cried out. She called his name, and the sound of it swept through him, burning soul deep with hope and love. Sweeter than any ambrosia, he lapped every drop her body offered, until her limbs went lax and she lay breathless on the table.
Had he ever experienced anything so beautiful?
With infinite care and tenderness, he kissed his way up her sprawled body. He stroked her hair and watched with bated breath as she came down from her euphoric high.
“Would you like to come to my bleak and boring bedroom?” he teased, deciding she would be the shining rose against the dull gray tones.
Her mouth curved into a smile, though her eyes remained closed. “Alex, you can take me anywhere.”
Alex wrapped her in a smithing apron and moved her from the forge to his bedroom. Esme’s mind remained in a fog during the silent transition, and she didn’t care that the gray sheets were so boring and inaccurate to his colorful personality.
She sighed toward the ceiling after he placed her beneath the covers. He’d even taken off her camisole, and she couldn’t be bothered to care. He’d just had her in his mouth. Just fingered and licked and sucked her to climax. Baring her breasts seemed trivial.
“Your fingers are definitely godly. I think I am spoiled for the rest of the evening.”
“I aim to please.”
“I’ve never… I’ve never had an orgasm so good. Everything about this is like a dream.”
Alex only chuckled and lowered to the bedside before kissing her sweat-dampened brow. “I’m glad.”
“But what about you?”
“Pleasuring you was reward enough.”
Pleasuring her was enough? What kind of selfless, wonderful, beautiful lover had she found in Alex that going down on her was enough to satisfy him? Her mind drifted to the foggy memories of the past that sometimes seeped like vapor into her thoughts. “Have we ever… before?”
“No. Though I’ve waited centuries to have the honor of touching you like this.”
She leaned up and feathered kisses against his neck. “I wonder if Aphrodite knew what she was passing up.”
“I doubt it. Looking back, I can’t blame her for refusing to lay with me, I suppose. She loved Ares, and I was the interloper who forced her into marriage.”
“Still, she didn’t have to agree to Zeus’s deal.”
“She didn’t,” he agreed. “She thought it would drive Ares to action and force his hand to seek her as his wife. Perhaps she erred, but we gods are not perfect. We are powerful, flawed beings. And for a little while, for a short time, I did feel loved and blessed to have her in my life.”
A long silence passed between them before she spoke again. “Alex?”
“Yes, my sweet?”
“How could you feel loved if she wouldn’t sleep with you?”
“I suppose that never mattered to me as much. There is more to intimacy than sex, Esme. I like to think that toward the end, before I discovered the affair, there was affection between us. Friendship. There were times when I would be working for days in the forge and she sought my company. She’d sit on that same workbench and watch.”
“Still it seems unfair to both of you, a sexless marriage like that.”
He shrugged. “Despite the circumstances, I saw to her needs and crafted her things to make up for where our marriage lacked.”
“Wait, are you saying you made her dildos?”
“My creations may have inspired a certain... improvement.”
“You created vibrators?”
He ducked his head and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “Yes.”
“Wow.” A few quiet seconds passed before she murmured against his ear. “I kinda wore out the rechargeable battery in old faithful last semester. So is old Aphrodite’s privilege mine too?”
He laughed. “I see you are as shameless as her. Yes, whatever you want will be yours. And perhaps one day, if you’d like, I’ll take you to the palace I built for her in the heavens.”
She stared. “A palace?”
“Yes, though… I understand if you would prefer a new home of your own built for you—”
“Alex, I would take anything you gave me happily.”
He drew her down beside him beneath the covers and cradled her close against his chest. Esme snuggled in, twining her legs with his until the rough denim chafed her legs.
“Aren’t you going to undress?”
“I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Esme lifted her head from his shoulder. “You don’t.”
“I’m sorry. Old habits die hard, I suppose.”
“Then we’ll make new ones, and I say, first good habit is no jeans in bed.”
He chuckled but obliged her request. Esme knelt on the mattress—ever aware of how his gaze darted between her naked thighs—and helped him tug his pants off.
Alex wore nothing beneath them. She sucked in a sharp breath, caught by surprise, and awed by the absolute, masculine beauty of him. Even semi-flaccid, his dick hung at an impressive length against his thigh.
Stunned as she was, it took a moment to realize Alex had gone still. So still he seemed to not even be breathing.
As she saw it, she had two choices, and the wisest one was to lay back down and go to sleep as planned, cradled in his warmth. Except she didn’t feel very wise.
Her poor impulse control won. Needing to touch him, she claimed him in a hand. He was huge in her fist. She couldn’t help but trace its silken contours and explore the stiffening lengt
h.
He hissed in a breath and squeezed her thigh. “Esme,” he murmured. “Do not start something we can’t finish.”
She met his gaze. His eyes were the loveliest shade of brown she had ever seen, closer to red sometimes when the light hit them just right. “Whoever said we wouldn’t finish?”
Following impulse again, she straddled his hips and drew his hands up from her thighs to her waist. She held one there and guided the other to her breast.
“I want this, Alex. I want you.” She leaned forward, trapping his hard length between their bodies, and kissed him. The hand on her waist tightened.
She tugged his shoulder, urging him to roll her beneath him. Once their position shifted, Alex’s careful restraint vanished, his touch firmed, and their kiss deepened.
Esme opened her mouth at his coaxing and lost herself to the sweet taste of him. Like fire, whiskey, and cinnamon, flavors she would always associate with Alex. He was smoky and exotic, warm against her tongue. He took control, and she gladly surrendered.
Alex drew her arms above her head and pinned them in one strong hand. One moment he was tenderly worshipping her breasts with his tongue, teasing the nipples and alternating between them—in the next, he nudged her thighs apart and plunged forward, taking her in one smooth stroke. She gasped out his name, his true name, and in response, he withdrew and drove forward again, edging her up in the bed. Her fingers brushed against the iron headboard, so she grabbed hold and held on tight.
“Don’t stop.”
“I won’t. I dreamed of this moment, Esme,” he murmured against her ear, breath a warm caress against her skin. “I dreamed of the day you would be mine in body the way I was yours in spirit.”
He continued moving within her, treating her to every magnificent inch. It should have hurt. It should have been impossible to take him all, but she did. Releasing her wrists, he propped his weight above her on both forearms and glanced down to where they were joined.
“Look at how well we fit together, Esme.”
For a moment, she watched, mesmerized by the smoothness of their rhythm. She caught his whiskered face between both palms and kissed him for every lost moment. Kissed him until she clenched up and his name became her mantra, her prayer, the only word she could utter in the throes of orgasm.
When it seemed it couldn’t get any better, Alex proved her wrong. He never slowed, pushing through each clench of her body, revving her up again before she had a chance to recover from the first rippling waves. Then he teased her with those magic fingers and coaxed another climax from her, the second chasing the heels of the first.
Trapped in a cycle of pleasure beyond what seemed humanly possible, she grasped his muscled shoulders and her nails scored his skin.
On his next thrust, Alex spilled within her, calling her name—both of her names. “Esme. My Esme,” he gasped. “My Aphrodite.”
And at that moment, she would be anyone he wanted her to be.
12
Beau didn’t need a legitimate human job, but if he was going to spend months away from the world’s many battlefields, he needed something to occupy his time in little suburban Ashfall. He’d located the nearest gym with self-defense classes and physical trainers, offered his services, then proceeded to lay all three of their best instructors on the mat.
After he established he was top dawg in their little neighborhood, he made a name for himself, and decided he preferred his new life. In the two years since he’d abandoned the war in the Middle East, he’d taken on dozens of elite clientele, from pop princesses to famous stunt men. He’d even worked on and off at movie sets as an expert advisor, and it jacked his pride up a notch when he saw his name in the credits at the end. Even if it wasn’t his real name. To fix that, he’d started asking them to credit him as Beau “Ares” Castle.
Back in Ashfall, he flew under the radar and spent too many hours at the city’s only gym whipping the excess fat off their clients and teaching women to make a man hurt.
Not that Esme didn’t already know something about that. His balls still ached when he thought back on it. But her talent was raw and unrefined, and he thought with a little training she’d show promise.
He waited for her at the gym’s front desk while tuning out a pretty blonde fitness trainer in tiny shorts to his right. She’d been chatting his ear off for ten minutes about… fuck if he knew what she was talking to him about.
“Beau?”
“Huh?” He blinked and glanced to his right.
“You live nearby, right? I was wondering if maybe you want to come over to my place sometimes. We can hang out. Watch Netflix.”
He stared at her, judging her stupid waterproof, sweatproof makeup, her too perfect, surgically enhanced nose, and her perky boob job that made both tits sit up on her chest like two hard grapefruits had been stashed beneath the compression tank.
“Ah…” The gym doors opened, blowing in a gust of winter air. Esme stepped inside. “My client is here.” Excusing himself from behind the counter, he crossed the room to her in a few long strides. “I didn’t think you would come.”
“I didn’t either.” She glanced past him briefly then looked back up at his face. “Are we still on for this?”
“Yeah. Scan in then follow me.” After Esme scanned her gym tag at the desk, he guided her from the lobby and into the private training room devoted to personal physical training lessons. The last trainer hadn’t picked the mats off the floor. When he shut the door behind them, he turned to face her. “What made you change your mind?”
“I... talked to Alex.”
“And?”
Esme shrugged. “I’ve been presented with undeniable proof that gods are real, and I may be one of them. I don’t have many choices. I can be rational and accept it, or freak out and waste more time hiding at home. I choose to face it.”
“That’s the goddess I know.” He grinned, the sting of her going to Alex first soothed by her decision. “So, time for you to show me what you already know so I can see what I’m dealing with.”
He led her through a few easy, basic scenarios, playing the role of assailant while she tried to defend and get away. Wherever she’d taken her initial lessons wasn’t bad.
“Not awful. One word of advice though?”
“Sure. That’s why I’m here, right?”
“Couldn’t help but notice you seem to have a signature move you fall back on when you’re threatened. It’s a good move but…” Beau grimaced. “A kick to the balls won’t take every man down.”
“It took down two gods.”
He resisted the urge to kiss her gloating face. “I wasn’t prepared for it,” he grumbled instead.
Esme smiled up at him. “For what it’s worth, I’m kind of sorry, even if it is a feather in my hat I can never brag about. How many girls get the chance to say they kicked the god of war in the junk?”
He grunted. “You caught me when my guard was down, that’s all.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“Anyway, as I was saying, the balls won’t always work. Going for the groin is great, but the face is also a good weak spot in general. Put a guy’s eyes out if you can, with whatever weapon you have on you or with your fingers.”
When the lesson began, Beau didn’t go easy on her. He demonstrated classic moves and dirty tricks, how to break out of a choke hold, and an effective eye gouge. He put her through punching drills on the heavy bag and admired her lithe limbs.
“You’re a fast learner, but I guess I’m not surprised. You used to be great at those pressure points.”
“Really?” She didn’t bristle up, brows perking instead.
“Really. Aphrodite didn’t like a fight to go on for a long time, especially if it was going to mess up her hair. She’d incapacitate an opponent as early as possible with as few moves as necessary.”
Esme wiped one wrist against her perspiring brow. “Yeah, that’s not going to be me today.”
“Definitely not,” he agreed.
She jabbed him in the stomach, but he danced back, laughing.
Afterward, they returned to punching drills on the focus mitts while Beau picked apart her fighting form, occasionally corrected her stance, and marveled at how fast she adapted, even as a human, to his lessons.
She remembered. Some part of her soul or her subconscious recalled their old spars. He was positive of that, certain the old Aphrodite was somewhere buried beneath the mortal flesh and dulled by centuries of human life. He just had to find her.
“All right, gloves off. I should be teaching you this with mitts, and the manager would definitely fuss if he saw I had you going bare hands, but if you’re in a real fight, your opponent isn’t going to wait until you’re gloved up.”
Esme unstrapped the training gloves and tossed them aside. “Right. That’s why I’m here. I want to be ready for the real world and a real situation so you three stop following me down dark alleys at night.”
He grinned. “Good. I actually have better things to do with my time than to be your benevolent stalker.”
Once she raised her guard, he did the same and feinted toward her chest. She weaved to the side.
“Watch the footwork. That was clumsy.”
“Why was it clumsy?”
Beau repeated the feint, and when she moved, he swept his foot against her ankles and took her off her feet. Esme tumbled to the mat, swearing the moment she landed.
After he helped her up, she eyed him. “Teach me how to avoid that.”
“Sure.”
He taught her two methods then made her take a water break. Afterward, the lesson carried on while he eyed the clock and wondered what else he could squeeze in during the remaining hour he’d scheduled into their session. Not much. He didn’t want to overwhelm her.
Deciding to test her instead, he lunged forward for her throat with both hands. She came up with her arms, drove his down with surprising strength, and stepped forward with a brutal knee for his groin. He twisted his hips to the side and struck with his leg again, taking her down to the mat.
Although Esme toppled over, she rolled away before he came down on her.
Divine Ambrosia Page 13
