Ares

by Heaton, Felicity

  A beautiful erotic image he would never forget.

  She ran her tongue up his cock and sat back on her knees, and he kept hold of her shoulders and stared down into her eyes, slowly gathering the scattered pieces of his senses.

  She smiled. “Your eyes have gone all shiny and red again... like you’re on fire inside.”

  Ares growled and swooped on her mouth, kissing her hard and forcing her backwards onto the bed. Her knees came up as she fell onto her back, catching him in the chest, and he stumbled, his legs caught up in his jeans.

  Not quite what he had planned.

  He rolled off her and kicked at his jeans. She hopped off the bed and helped him, making fast work of his clothes, and paused when he was naked.

  Her gaze raked over him.

  He lay back and let her drink her fill, not wanting to rush her even when he was dying to touch her. He loved it when she looked at him, her eyes dark with desire that he stirred, hunger for him.

  She undid her belt and his gaze instantly fell to follow her hands. He wasn’t the only one who could stir desire. His cock twitched as she slowly unzipped her jeans and eased them down her long legs. Gods, he wanted those wrapped around his backside as he made love to her.

  She stepped out of them and stood before him in only her teal underwear, igniting a fierce need to unwrap and devour her now.

  He sat up, grabbed her hand and yanked her onto the bed. She giggled and he silenced her with a kiss, rolling so he was laying half on top of her, his chest against hers. She moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers in his hair.

  “What do you want to do to me?” she whispered and he kissed down her jaw towards her neck.

  “Devour you,” he murmured between kisses and lightly bit the curve of her throat.

  She moaned and arched her chest into his.

  The rasp of her lacy bra against his flesh diverted his attention back to her breasts. He kissed and nipped at her collarbone and then slowly moved down her.

  The cut across her chest was dark, the skin around it angry red.

  He wanted to cover it with something but she didn’t have a sticking plaster long enough and a bandage would be no use. It was high on her chest, in a place that would be difficult to cover with a bandage. He kissed around it, tasting antiseptic, and continued downwards.

  She twisted the lengths of his hair in her fingers and arched again, as if he needed any encouragement or an indication of where she wanted him.

  He stared at her bra.

  He stared at it for so long that Megan slumped into the bed and her hands left him. She propped herself up on her elbows and frowned at him.

  “Something wrong?” she said, her voice soft and edged with confusion.

  “No. Not at all.” Ares eyed her bra.

  There was a trick to them. He had tried to catch it when watching movies and TV shows where any man removed a woman’s undergarments. He had thought he had it figured out but now that he was face to face with one, he had forgotten where to start.

  “How long did you say it had been since you last did this?” There was a smile in her voice. He wasn’t amused and she shouldn’t be either. “I’m guessing brassieres hadn’t been invented then.”

  He was damned if she was going to emasculate him. He pulled her up and peered around the back of the bra. It looked simple enough. A few hooks and eyes. He couldn’t go far wrong.

  He reached around both sides of her. His hands met at the back, over the fastenings. He peered over her shoulder and she giggled again.

  “Do you want a hand?” she whispered into his ear, hot breath teasing him and putting him off what he was doing.

  “No,” he snapped and focused on his hands and the infernal contraption.

  He took hold of both sides and pushed them together. The first hook gave but the other was trouble, clearly intent on defying him. He growled and tried harder. It wouldn’t give.

  She stifled a laugh.

  He growled and yanked both sides, snapping the fastening.

  “Hey. I liked this bra.” She shoved his shoulder and he didn’t even feel it.

  He basked in his victory over the infernal bra she proclaimed to have loved.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” He hooked his fingers under the straps running over her shoulders and peeled the garment away.

  She lay back, the action helping him, and when he looked down at her, she was topless and he was holding her bra. He tossed it aside and smiled wickedly as he settled his hands on either side of her ribs and stared down at her. She didn’t look angry. She was smiling, the sort she gave him when she was waiting for him to make a move.

  An open invite.

  He shifted his gaze to her breasts.

  Dusky pink buds topped the creamy mounds and he couldn’t wait any longer. He lowered his head and wrapped his lips around one nipple, sucking it into his mouth. She moaned and arched up again, pressing her breast against his lips, and he slid one hand beneath her and held her to him as he alternated between suckling and rolling the sweet bud between his teeth.

  His other hand quested downwards and he delighted in the feel of her soft supple stomach, her skin hot against his palm, and then groaned when he reached the barrier of her panties. Her backside lifted off the bed, the motion forcing his fingers past the waist of her lacy underwear. It gave him the confidence to continue and he shifted his hand lower, brushing the first neat curls covering the juncture of her thighs. He groaned against her breast and his cock throbbed, hardening again, hungry to be where his hand was heading.

  He pressed his hard length against her hip and slung his right leg over hers, looping it around. She wriggled against him, rubbing his erection, teasing him as he teased her. He flicked his tongue over her nipple, eliciting a breathless moan from her, and she tangled her fingers in his hair again, holding him in place against her breast.

  He liked that.

  He had never been with a woman who had been so forward about what she wanted.

  He dipped his fingers into her plush folds and stilled. Gods. She was so warm and wet, slippery with desire. He delved lower, found her pert nub and circled it with his fingertips. She moaned and her hands seized his shoulders.

  He wanted more.

  He swallowed, the last of his nerves melting away under the heat blazing between them, and moved off her, releasing her nipple. She groaned her disapproval and then wriggled when he moved downwards, settling himself between her legs. She shuffled up the bed until her head hit the pillows and lay before him, shifting her knees side to side, restless and with hunger in her eyes.

  He growled, a possessive snarl that caused a flush of colour on her cheeks, got down on all fours and crawled up the bed to her. She parted her knees, inviting him closer. He hooked his fingers into the waist of her panties and pulled them down her thighs, revealing the soft thatch of dark curls that concealed Heaven from his eyes. He tugged her underwear off and tossed it over his shoulder to join the rest of their clothes, and then took hold of her knees.

  He spread them again, wanting to see Heaven.

  She obeyed, opening for him, and he groaned at the sight of her.

  He wanted that.

  He skimmed his hands down the insides of her thighs, burning at a thousand degrees, and shivered when his fingers brushed her soft curls. He slid his fingers into her velvet folds again and his eyelids fell, hooding his eyes. She felt so good, so hot and moist. His cock throbbed, eager to be sheathed in her. Not yet. He wanted to feel her first.

  He wanted to taste her as she had tasted him.

  He lowered his hand, his eyes locked on her face, studying every flicker of pleasure that crossed it, learning what she liked most, and swirled his finger around her nub. She murmured a low groan of pleasure and he eased his hand lower. Her hips shifted to meet him, her eyes half closed, dark with desire. Her lips parted as he nudged one finger inside her and slid it deep into her core.

  He bit his tongue to stop himself f
rom exploding all over her bedclothes.

  She felt too good, so ready for him. He slowly pumped her with one finger and then added another, stretching her tight sheath. She moaned and worked her hips, undulating them in time with his thrusts.

  Gods, he wanted to feel her do that against his cock.

  “Ares,” she breathed and he growled, the sound of his name spoken in her pleasure-drenched voice too much for him to bear. “More.”

  She gasped when he thrust his fingers all the way in, as deep as they could go, and arched her hips off the bed.

  With a dark snarl, he hunched over her, wedged her thighs apart with his shoulders, and spread her with his other hand. He swept his tongue over her nub, thrusting two fingers slowly and deeply into her at the same time. She groaned and writhed, riding his mouth and his fingers as he switched between flicking his tongue over her arousal and suckling her.

  “Ares,” she moaned again, the sound music to his ears.

  Her hand came down, fingers twisting his hair around them, holding him fast. He loved the feel of her commanding him in her own way and obeyed her, staying right where she needed him to be.

  She tasted like jasmine too, succulent and sweet. He licked her from core to nub, tasting all of her, and thrust his fingers deeper. She rode them, moving faster and faster, her breathing coming quicker with each shift of her hips.

  “More,” she gasped and he gave it to her, licking and suckling, plunging harder and deeper into her, until he could feel her tensing and knew she was close.

  She bucked her hips up, tightened around him, tugged on his hair and cried his name at the top of her lungs. Her body trembled, quivering around his two fingers, her thighs shaking against his shoulders.

  He eased her down with slow deep strokes of his fingers and gentle sweeps of his tongue, not wanting to relinquish her just yet. She wriggled and giggled, pulled away from him and collapsed onto the bed, breathing hard and fast.

  He propped his chin up on his left hand and held her gaze as she smiled down at him. When he sucked his fingers clean, her eyes darkened again, passion flaring back up in them. His cock pulsed against the mattress.

  Megan crooked her finger at him.

  Ares obeyed. He would obey her until the end of time.

  He got onto his hands and knees and crawled up the bed to her, settling himself between her thighs. They trembled still, quivering with her climax, and he smiled inside at that. Three hundred years and he could still remember how to do things. It came naturally where Megan was concerned. She was so open with him, letting him know what she wanted and how she liked things.

  He had never had a woman like her.

  She was one in a billion.

  She kissed him, slow sweeps of her lips that stoked the fire inside him, bringing it back to inferno level, and he thrust his hard length against her stomach, feeling her heat and her moisture against him.

  He wanted to be inside her.

  He drew back and stared down into her beautiful brown eyes.

  She smiled. “I’m reading your mind.”

  “Yeah?” he said with a smile of his own. “What am I thinking?”

  “I’m on the pill.” She hooked one arm around his neck, brought him back down to her and kissed him again, harder this time, making him burn all over. He rubbed his aching shaft against her and her hand moved to his chest and she pushed him backwards. “I take it you’re clean?”

  He frowned. “Clean?”

  “I’ve never had unprotected sex... but you’ve been around a while.”

  He didn’t like the way she said that. It made him feel old. “Gods don’t get diseases.”

  “That’s all I needed to hear.” She dragged him back down and kissed him again.

  Ares settled on top of her. Her breasts pressed against his, heart hammering discordantly to his. He moved his weight to his elbows and deepened the kiss, savouring how she felt beneath him, warm and soft, fitting him perfectly.

  “Make love to me, Ares,” she whispered against his lips and he groaned.

  Damn, he could do that.

  He shifted backwards and wrapped a hand around his cock. He teased her with the head, sliding it up and down. She was so hot and wet. He wasn’t sure in the end whether he was teasing her or himself. She moaned and he inched lower, hazy from the feel of her against him and the thought of what he was about to do. The head of his cock nudged inside.

  A strange, sharp sensation pierced his chest.

  Ares growled.

  Not now, damn it.

  “What is it?” Megan gasped and tensed.

  He moved his hips backwards, away from her, and ground his teeth, cursing the gods inside his head. So damned close.

  “Someone has broken through the barriers around my apartment.” He really wanted to pretend he hadn’t said that, to take it back and make up some bullshit about it being nerves that had stopped him.

  He couldn’t lie to her though, or ignore what he had just felt.

  “We have to go, don’t we?” she said and he was glad that she had managed to maintain her understanding streak and wasn’t going to fly off the handle at him about stopping just as things were getting started.

  He sat back and groaned, his shoulders slumping with it. His cock ached, telling him to forget his apartment and finish things.

  He couldn’t.

  He glanced at Megan and she looked as frustrated as he felt.

  “I’m going to kill whoever it is.” She huffed and scrambled off the bed, giving him a lovely view of her petite rear, and disappeared into the bathroom.

  He told himself to move. It wasn’t easy when he was harder than steel and his balls ached. He seconded her idea, only he was going to be the one doing the killing.

  She reappeared and grabbed some more clothes from her closets. She pulled on some rather fetching lilac underwear that didn’t help his problem, especially when she bent over again, flashing him a view of her bottom in the thong.

  He groaned.

  She straightened and faced him, her cheeks flushed and eyes full of a silent apology.

  He forced himself to move, wincing the whole time, his mood rapidly degenerating. He pulled his clothes on and by the time he was dressed in his black jeans, shirt and boots, he had a single-track mind fixed on bloodshed.

  Megan finished dressing in a dark purple jumper and blue jeans, and rammed the last of her things into her black backpack and zipped it closed. He grabbed it from her, then grabbed her, pulling her close to him.

  His body instantly responded, painfully hard in seconds, and he groaned again.

  She smiled, her eyes promising that they would finish this later, and kissed him.

  He pictured his apartment and stepped.

  He had never teleported when kissing before. It was a strange experience, leaving him feeling as though part of him melded with her in the process. He set down in his apartment and lowered her, but held her close to him, keeping one arm curled around her and the other free in case he needed to fight.

  His apartment was a mess.

  Whoever had been here had done a real number on it. They had pulled every drawer out and tossed his clothes across his bedroom. The DVDs, CDs and magazines lay strewn across his wooden floor, and they had even moved all of his furniture and gone through the cupboards in the kitchen.

  Ares growled and scanned the apartment, hunting for the one who had wrecked his place. His mood took a nosedive.

  The intruder was gone, leaving him with no one to unleash his anger on.

  He pressed a kiss to the top of Megan’s head. “Stay here.”

  He drew a deep breath to steady his rising anger. This daemon was really beginning to piss him off. It must have been him. But why had he risked coming here during the daylight when he should have been laying low to avoid the danger of the sun?

  Not only that, but the gates couldn’t be opened during the day, so he and his brothers always slept from dawn until dusk.

  Only the daemon had f
ought him near Megan’s apartment.

  The man must have figured that Ares would stay there a while with her and that he would have time to break into his apartment and look for something.

  What?

  He stalked around the apartment, his body wound so tightly with anger and hunger that he was fit to burst. He felt Megan’s gaze following him, the heat of it scorching him, making him want to forget looking for what the daemon had been after and go to her, pin her against the wall and finish what they had started.

  He glanced at her as he passed her and then forced himself to look away in case he gave in to his urges. His gaze settled on his bedroom. Maybe he could pick things up in there. He wanted to lay her down on his bed and make love to her for hours.

  He frowned.

  Bedroom.

  He quickened his pace and rounded the corner, heading for the closet in his bedroom. The door was open. He stopped dead and stared at his shield on the back wall.

  “Shit.”

  “What is it?” Megan called from the other room.

  “The bastard has my amulet... he has the key to my gate.”

  CHAPTER 18

  Valen sat on the hillside overlooking Rome, studying the city as it sparkled in the warm evening light. The sight was soothing, but it wasn’t the only reason he felt relaxed today.

  “How have you been?” the woman sitting beside him said as she combed her fingers through the silken sheet of her long red hair.

  She gathered sections of it on either side of her head, near her temples, and plaited them as she awaited his answer.

  He wasn’t sure what to tell her.

  She finished the two long braids and knotted them at the back of her head, over the rest of her hair. Her luminous green eyes shifted from the scenery laid out before her and settled on him, unnerving in their intensity. The evening sunlight played on them too, making the gold flakes in her irises twinkle, and washed over her fair skin, warming it until she glowed.

  She was beautiful.

  He had thought that for as long as he could remember.

  There was none in this world or the Underworld or all of Olympus as beautiful as her.