Sweet Hell
Page 16
But even as he told himself not to do it, he saw Josie kick the hand from her leg. Saw her stamp on the fingers that sought to pull her down. Witnessed her brave recovery and watched her take another step.
Man, did he love her.
And when she made it across the moat, he breathed a sigh of relief with her. She could do this. She would do this.
They would be happy.
He looked up and stared into the endless darkness before them. They were two mortals who just needed to get through the next seventy-nine soul-damaging, spirit-sucking circles of hell.
No sweat. Right?
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Chapter 16
As warm daylight streamed in through her bedroom window, Josie awoke in her bed. Alone.
Her hand flew to her mouth as terror made her eyes bulge. “Oh, no,” she gasped under her hand.
It had been a dream. Just a dream.
Dionysus was nowhere to be seen. She jumped out of bed and began a frenzied search for anything that might prove she hadn't imagined it. Laurel leaves. Sandals. His discarded robe. There was nothing. Nothing under the bed. Nothing between the sheets.
Just his smell. Taunting her from the pillowcase, made manifest by the fraught emotions of her nightmares.
Oh, God. Had she lost him? Had she looked back and lost him? She couldn't even remember. Perhaps the gods had taken pity on her and erased her memory so she wouldn't remember the horror on his beautiful face as he was dragged back down into that hellish chamber.
The only evidence he had ever been in her apartment at all was a youthful Cats Domino, curled up at the end of her bed, farting contentedly in his sleep.
Josie felt the tremors take her. She curled up into a ball on the bed, and cried and cried.
That was when she heard his voice at the bedroom door. “Baby!"
Chest heaving, she dared to look up. And saw Dionysus standing there. Wearing old jeans and a worn Rugby shirt she'd never seen before. A frightened expression on his face. Holding a tray laden with coffee and a stack of pancakes.
She couldn't move. Couldn't speak.
He put the tray down and ran to her side, pulling her onto his lap and cuddling the life out of her. “I'm so sorry, Josie! You were sleeping so soundly, I thought I'd have time to make you some real food, you know, instead of conjured-up food. And I thought, after all this time, I should really make you a coffee."
She meant to laugh, but it sounded like one of Cats Domino's explosive farts. She looked up at him through her haze of mucus. “You're real?"
There were tears in his wonderful, tired, mortal, brown eyes. “I'm real, sweetheart.” He used his shirt sleeve to wipe her face, not caring that her snot was all over him. “And you saved me, Josie."
"I did?"
He laughed and kissed her forehead. “I suspected you might not remember. You were actually quite butch, I have to say. Didn't even need a thyrsus. You just plowed your way through each level of Hades and didn't look at me once. I was so proud of you. But when we got back, you collapsed on the landing so I brought you to bed and let you rest.” One eyebrow shot up. “As much as I really wanted to wake you up."
She took him in. He looked as if he'd ... well, been through hell. His dark curls were tangled and needed washing. There were cuts and bruises on his face. She was afraid to contemplate how he'd received those. She rolled up his sleeves. His forearms were streaked with blood and punctured from Persephone's cuffs. He was still as buff as ever, hard and powerfully built, but he looked exhausted. His skin was pale, almost as pale as Hades. And there were creases around his eyes he'd never had as a god.
Dionysus now had laugh lines. Imagine that.
And he was still the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen.
"You're never going back?” she whispered. “Please say you're never going back to that place."
He smiled, weaving his hands through her hair, cradling her skull. “That wouldn't fit in with my plans to marry you."
"But Hades..."
"Whatever else Hades is,” he interrupted, “he's a man of his word. I've done my time, Josie. And now I'm yours forever."
Forever. The implication of the word hit her like a speeding truck careening around a corner into a brick wall. Her bottom lip quivered. “Not forever."
He held her tighter. “Josie, my cousin Eryx gave up his immortal life to be with the woman he loves. I never understood the sentiment behind his actions. Until I met you. You're all I want. For as long as I can have you. I love you more than life, even my old life.” He grinned, then took his time to kiss her temple, her cheek, grazing her lips softly. With promise. “Now, are you going to drink my coffee and eat my pancakes?"
She looked at the tray. Appreciated the dripping maple syrup on the flapjacks and the curly steam coming off the coffee. It looked tempting. Just not tempting enough. “No. Not just yet."
And when she saw the slow smile spread across his handsome face, she knew he was okay with that.
Josie watched as he stood, threw off the Rugby shirt and unfastened his jeans. He was blessedly bare under his jeans and already barefoot, so it took him no time at all to get naked. As he prowled back toward her, all undulating muscle, eyes glinting with awareness of her and the stiffest cock she'd ever seen, she was very happy to see him naked.
He reached her, eased her onto her back and proceeded to undress her. Not slowly, but with urgency. As if his life depended on seeing her nude form laid out before him. And glimpsing the hot need in his eyes, the taut set to his mouth, she fancied it might be true.
He ripped off her shirt. A couple of her buttons actually flew across the room. She was fine with that. In fact, she stopped thinking of buttons the moment his eager fingers touched her skin. Sliding down her stomach, reaching for the snap on her jeans. They came off as speedily as her shirt. Dionysus then went to work on her bra and panties. Although one could hardly call it “work” when he'd disposed of them within fifteen seconds.
And then, finally, his warm body pressed into hers, making her sink into the mattress. His legs entangling with hers. Pressing between her legs, soaking up her moisture. His fingers already on her breasts, rolling her nipples until they were painfully erect and begging for the feel of his tongue and teeth. Kissing her. Tonguing her. Taking her.
Claiming her forever.
"You're mine,” he whispered into her ear, tracing each whorl with his tongue.
"No one else's,” she pledged, digging her fingernails into his clenched bottom.
And then he kissed her again, his lips reiterating his promise to keep her. And as she opened her mouth to him, savoring the sweet taste of him, Josie gave herself to him. He moaned into her mouth, shuddering with pleasure, and in his cries she heard all the desperation he must have felt while enchained in hell. The same wrenching sense of privation she'd felt every time she saw his face in her dreams.
Need, plain and simple. Unending need for him. One that could only be appeased by his kisses, by his love. She needed to have him with her. And would walk through hell over and over to ensure he stayed with her.
"Josie,” he murmured, his lips raw from kissing her. “Do you have any idea how much I wanted you? How I craved the taste of you?"
"You haunted my dreams,” she admitted, as a tear ran down her cheek. “Every night. It was worse than hell."
Dionysus lowered his head and licked her tear away. “I can't ever be without you again. I don't want to let you out of my sight.” He chuckled, rubbing his stubbly cheek against hers. “Would it be too awkward if I tied myself to you every day?"
"It might make some things awkward,” she conceded, laughing. “Groceries. Bowling. Scooping the cat's litter. Making your precious coffee."
He made a face of mock horror. “Well, forget that plan!"
"But,” she whispered, feeling so ready to have him inside her. “How about you just tie me up every night instead?"
He stared at her, and his eyes darkened with desire
. “Naughty girl. I like that."
Dionysus caught her wrists, the wrists that had once been so bruised from her time on Persephone's wall, and kissed them. Then he placed them over her head and pinned them there. Once he was content she wouldn't move them, he glided down over her body. Declaring the perfection of her breasts. Dipping his tongue into her belly button. Expressing his passion for the soft roundness of her stomach. Kissing the inside of her thighs.
And then, as she held her breath, he kissed her there, and it wasn't a dream anymore. Just Dionysus. Hot and slippery, sucking on her anxious skin. Sliding his tongue through every groove, reacquainting himself with the delights of her body. Telling her over and over how beautiful she was, how she'd always been beautiful in his eyes.
As his tongue brought her to a fever pitch, swirling and flicking at her swollen clit, Josie knew she couldn't take much more. The emotions accompanying each lusty kiss had her head swimming. He loved her. He was loving her.
And she needed him inside her now.
"Dionysus,” she begged, not caring about the crack in her voice. “Please."
He looked up at the shattered sound, his lips wet with her juices, and recognized her need. The need clearly echoing in his own eyes and fractured voice. “Yes, Josie. I'm coming."
He rose above her, a column of strength that had been tested, corded arms straining under his desire. He kissed her once. A hasty, luscious joining of their lips. And then he sank deep inside her.
Appeasing her yearning as only he could. Feeding her with his love and energy and spirit. Two mortal bodies wrapped around each other, on a heavenly journey none could ever replicate. A passion flavored with honeyed wine and sparkling sugar.
As Dionysus spent himself, spilling into her, she took him on a wave that was as gentle as it was powerful. Throwing her to the shore, yet catching her in its soft hand at the same time. Raising her up. Making her new. Erasing every doubt and fear she'd ever had about loving.
And as their heartbeats steadied, he held her. He kissed her. And said, “You know what would be really awesome right now? One of your cannoli."
Josie laughed, hitting him playfully in the chest until he pinned her to the bed and began to love her all over again, not letting her out of the bed until nighttime descended.
Only then did they pad downstairs, giggling like children. They sneaked into the bakery and fed each other that cannolo. Or four.
The End
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About the Author
Rosanna Leo has her degree in history and literature, as well as in classical singing. She currently resides in Toronto, Canada. Her favorite things are her family, libraries, and her mother's gnocchi. Rosanna loves it when the geeky, awkward girl gets the hot guy, and has made it her mission to see this happen in her books as much as possible. Sweet Hell is her third book published with Liquid Silver Books. She is also the author of For the Love of a God and Up in Flames.
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Visit www.atlanticbridge.net for information on additional titles by this and other authors.
Table of Contents
Blurb
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
About the Author
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