“You tremble, Vivienne.”
She swallowed hard, her fingers curled around his wrist.
“Surely you don’t fear me as well.”
“Never. I fear how I’ve hurt you, I fear how I’ve failed you. But I don’t fear you.”
“You needn’t fear anyone, Vivienne. I won’t let anyone or anything hurt you.”
The caress melted into an embrace and Vivienne went into his arms easily. It was safe there, within the circle of his arms. Nothing bad could touch her and all the things she feared faded away with the steady beat of his heart.
He smelled so good and being pressed so intimately against him, it conjured all sorts of scenarios. If he’d take her now in the sweet grass… but Vivienne realized she was still only thinking of herself. Of her own needs.
Hector had wanted to show her something. She had to let him. No matter that she was afraid.
Vivienne was hit with another revelation.
By being afraid, trapped in her fear, she was doing him the gravest insult. She was telling him again that he wasn’t worthy. That he wasn’t enough. She was telling him that she didn’t trust him to keep his word—to keep her safe.
Shame was a sour putrid bile in her throat.
“Hector, you said you had something you wanted to show me. I’m sorry I was afraid, that I didn’t trust in you. Will you show me now?”
“Vivienne, if you are not ready to see, I can’t show you.”
Well, that was a ball of mystery wrapped in an enigma frosted with a riddle. Now she knew how other people felt when they were talking to her. It wasn’t pleasant.
“I am ready.” She took a deep breath. “I trust you.” And she did trust him.
“It’s not only me that you must trust in, but magick that is not yours.”
“Whose?” Something sharp twisted in her gut.
Hector smiled. “You said you trust me. If I trust in it, shouldn’t that be enough?”
Again, he was right. Goddess, but how she hated learning lessons. They were always uncomfortable.
“Okay,” she squeaked. Irritation at herself bubbled. She was Vivienne du Lac. She did not squeak like some timid mouse. Even if that’s what she felt on the inside. “Yes,” she clarified.
“Then let’s go.” He pulled a large amethyst from a pouch at his waist and a purple smoke surrounded them.
This was how he and Lance had gotten off the island without her knowledge or her magick, she realized. It could only belong to Morgan or Mordred. Probably Mordred, because Morgan would’ve told her and her son never would’ve asked Morgan for a damn thing.
She clung tightly to Hector and when she could see nothing but fog, for a moment, she feared drowning in the ether. Vivienne forced herself to breathe slowly, to think about only Hector’s arms around her, the steady, sure beat of his heart. He was not afraid. She would not be afraid.
Even when it felt as if her skin and bones had turned to purple dust and she was nothing air.
“We’re flying Vivienne, look.”
She didn’t want to look, but there was something about his voice. It was light, free, and joyous. So she opened her eyes.
Avalon was a tiny, verdant dot in a light blue waters, surrounded by an impenetrable wall of fog. Thankfully, it wasn’t purple.
This was the first time she’d been off Avalon since they’d gone into the mist. She’d watched the world outside through her crystal ball, and she’d kept up with modern advances. But she’d thought it was her duty to stay there, on the island.
It hit her that she’d been hiding. Not just from her mistakes, but from living.
Oh Goddess, how did she fix this?
She clung tighter to Hector and realized that maybe she wasn’t an island herself after all. Maybe she did need someone, and maybe that was okay.
Just maybe.
21
ARTEMIS
He still hadn’t punched her V-Card.
His tongue probably had a callus on it. Maybe even a blister. He’d even sprained his wrist bringing her off. He’d done every delightful, delectable thing to her that she could begin to imagine. Some things she couldn’t.
But still, he hadn’t taken her virginity.
They were sitting outside on the chaise lounges nibbling on cheese, fruit and chocolate to recover their strength. He’d even procured pomegranate truffles so she wouldn’t be homesick.
He saw to her every need.
Except that one.
Artemis couldn’t help but wonder if she’d done something wrong.
Tell him to feed you a truffle. Aphrodite’s voice resonated in her head.
Hmm. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Was she listening in while they’d been—
No. Just do it. Goddess of Love out.
Artemis smiled and turned her head to look at him. By Zeus, but he was beautiful. The contours of muscle, the smooth perfection of his skin. She wanted to touch him all over, pet him like she would the Golden Fleece.
“I think I need another truffle.” She licked her lips.
Mordred focused on her, the intensity in his amethyst eyes setting her body on fire yet again. “That wouldn’t be a ploy to get me to bring you one, would it?” he teased.
“No. Of course not.” Her gaze strayed to his hands and memories of what those talented fingers had done to her washed over her. She shivered delicately. “It’s a ploy to get you to bring it and feed it to me.”
“Really?” The corner of his mouth curled up in a smirk and he proceeded to fulfill her desire.
He brought her one of the succulent treats and offered it to her between two fingers.
Now what was she supposed to do? Probably something that had to do with sucking on his fingers and miming a blow job. The idea had merit. She’d like to have him at her mercy the same way she was at his.
She opened her mouth delicately, she didn’t want to look like a seal begging for a fish.
He pushed his fingers to her lips slowly, his eyes focused on hers.
Artemis knew truffles could give orgasms, but she had a feeling that this would be ten times as intense. Her tongue darted out to taste the truffle, and brushed the sides of his fingers.
They were salty, and she tasted herself. So it was kind of sweet too.
And he knew it.
Well, of course he knew it.
But the expression on his face, it was pure lust. Need. Desire.
So she did it again.
“I would tell you that you play with fire, lovely goddess, but I think you want to burn in it.”
His voice was both sin and redemption as the decadent chocolate melted on her tongue.
Artemis wanted to lay back and let him do every naughty thing to her three times over again, but what she wanted more was for him to experience that kind of ecstasy. She wondered if anyone had ever pleased him just for the sake of his pleasure. Not hoping to get something in return, either a favor, a seduction, or making him love them.
Yes, the denizens of Olympus were good at all of the above, but pleasure for the sake of pleasure was practically a mantra.
She grew bolder, sliding her tongue up the inside of his finger and closing her slender hand around his wrist to anchor him there. Artemis was a hunter, so viewing his pleasure like prey made her a master. She sought it out, stalked it, honed in on its weakness and then went in for the kill.
Artemis sucked his finger deep into the hot, wet cavern of her mouth and swirled her tongue around the digit, the taste of the truffle completely forgotten.
She released his wrist and tugged on the waistband of his jeans. When they didn’t do as she wished, she used her magick to make them disintegrate.
His cock was hard, and thick, purposeful, just like a sword. She found it beautiful. Artemis touched her tongue to the head, just like she’d done with his fingers and then took him into her mouth. She dug her nails into his hips, marking half-moons in his perfect skin.
That was her stamp. Her mark.
&nbs
p; Hers.
He growled low in his throat as she serviced him, his fingers tangling in her hair, his back arching.
But if she brought him to completion now, it would be over, and he’d said he liked games. This had to be more than pleasure for his body, it had to be for his mind, too. She disappeared and manifested next to the edge of the copse of trees several feet away.
The look on his face was fantastic. It was incredulous, it was bereft, but it was also predatory. He was already plotting how to capture her and since the hunt was her domain, she knew intrinsically that he loved every minute of it.
She took off her bikini top and threw it at him. “Take me if you can, Le Fey.”
Artemis darted into the trees. She loved the thrill of the chase, and even now, she was only pretending to be the hunted. She was still closing in on his pleasure.
He moved stealthily through the underbrush behind her, he was fast, but he was smart. That made her tingle and bite her lip, too.
Artemis camouflaged herself by merging into a tree. Its presence was warm and welcoming, and it wholly approved of the ruse.
He paused, just steps from her. “I know you’re here. You smell like pomegranates and chocolate.”
Mordred took his time, inspecting each branch and stone. “You’re a naughty goddess to make me run through the forest naked.”
Very naked.
He was every inch the Horned God.
She giggled. She couldn’t help herself.
Mordred reached into the tree and yanked her out.
“That was easy.” He wore a smug look.
As much as she wanted to be caught, it was over much too soon and he was too proud of himself. “Was it?” She smiled and snapped her fingers. A rope tied around his ankle and hoisted him up into the canopy.
His horned godhood flapping as he went.
“I will get you,” he vowed, and his voice almost sounded dangerous.
“I certainly hope so.” Artemis laughed and fled again.
Part of her wanted to wait for him because she did indeed want to be caught. But another part of her said that if he couldn’t catch her fair and square, he didn’t deserve the spoils of the hunt.
She smacked her inner goddess down. It was that bitch’s fault she hadn’t experienced all of these earthly delights yet. She could just be quiet.
Artemis crept back toward the clearing hating herself with every step. She looked up and saw him hanging there—noticeably deflated—and miserable. Her shoulders slumped.
Strong arms closed around her and Artemis was suddenly done playing. She fought for all she was worth. How dare this unknown mortal touch her and--
“Artemis!”
The cloud of fury dissipated and she turned in the embrace and realized it was Mordred who held her. He’d laid a trap for her.
“Oh, you sneaky bastard.” The admiration was back. He knew she wouldn’t leave him hanging, even though she should have.
“I win.”
“Wrong again.” She melted out of his arms into a stream and rather than being irritated with her, he laughed.
It was a musical sound, like a dark aria. She wanted to wrap herself in it.
“Just wait until I catch you, gorgeous.”
That’s exactly what she was counting on.
She took goddess form in a clearing not too far from the trap, but found his arms around her again. It was as if he’d traveled in the stream with her.
Instead of saying anything sarcastic, this time, he just kissed her.
And that made it okay for him to win.
Artemis surrendered to his arms, his kiss, the moment.
It was absolutely perfect.
Until a sudden cough startled her. She would’ve broken away and investigated, but Mordred didn’t seem to care there was someone in the clearing with them. She could almost hear his thinking.
If they’re looking, they deserve what they get.
But that subtle clearing of a throat sounded a lot like Apollo. Her brother. And her skin was suddenly very, very warm.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” he grumbled, but he didn’t release her.
Yep, in all his sunshine-out-his-ass glory. Her brother. In the flesh.
“Artemis, are you okay?” he asked, round balls of fire like solar flares gathered at his fists.
“I’m actually a little busy.”
“But, but…” Apollo stuttered. “You’re the eternal virgin.” He said this as if it was something she didn’t know.
“I’m done with that. Time for new things.”
“Put on a toga, for Zeus’s sake.” He sounded incredibly scandalized.
She and Mordred were suddenly both wearing togas that her brother had manifested. His was black. She had to say it made him look even more like a villain and she liked it.
“For Zeus’s sake or for your sake?” Artemis asked.
Apollo shrugged. “Whatever you’re more comfortable with.” He eyed Mordred disdainfully. “Who is this wretched creature?”
Artemis narrowed her eyes. “I would think for someone who is married to the Goddess of Night, you’d understand my attraction to the dark.”
She waited for Mordred to say something snarky, inappropriate and completely disrespectful. Apollo would choke on his own spit. And Artemis kind of liked it that way. For centuries, he’d been the one living La Vida Olympus and it was time Artemis had some fun of her own. He was as bad about turning her swains into something unpleasant as she was. In fact, it was her brother who’d educated her on the evils of males and then after one of her supplicants had tried to attack her, she’d been content to follow Apollo’s directives.
Mordred surprised her again. Instead of flipping her brother the proverbial bird, he reached out to shake her brother’s hand. No one had ever done that before. No one treated Apollo like a mortal—not that he was overly pompous about it. All gods were a bit pompous to one extreme or another, but… it was just too weird.
Apollo flared like glow stick, his flesh would be scalding to the touch, but Mordred didn’t flinch. He didn’t pull away. He simply shook the god’s hand while his flesh smoked.
Artemis cried out. “Stop that! I need that hand. It’s magickal.”
Apollo went dark. It was like turning off a light. “You what?”
“He’s not hurting me. I’m here of my own free will, Apollo. On some level, you know that or you would’ve already turned him to ash.”
Apollo eyed him again. “I don’t like it.”
She appreciated that her brother was trying to look out for her, but really, this was too much. “But I do.” She said softly.
He still didn’t look at Artemis, but he frowned. “If you hurt my sister, I swear to Tartarus I’ll—”
“Yeah, yeah. You’ll roast my face off. I get it.” He grinned as his hand healed. “If she were my sister…” He looked at Artemis. “Who am I kidding? If she were my sister I’d still think she was hot.”
“Don’t be gross.” Artemis teased.
“What? It’s the truth and I’m a bad boy, remember?”
Apollo shifted uncomfortably. “Hey, I’m still here.”
“So don’t be.” Artemis hoped he’d take the hint.
“What’s your name?” he ignored her.
“Mordred Le Fey, bastard extraordinaire and Avalon tourist attraction at your service.”
Apollo raised a brow as if he planned on more interrogation.
“I appreciate the meet and greet, but we were in the middle of something. So if we could take this up later?” Mordred eyed him. “Look, I can’t hurt her. It’s physically impossible. Nothing is going to happen to her that she’s not into, okay?”
“Oh, and how can I believe that? I’ve heard about you, Le Fey. You did a number on Medusa.”
“And Circe,” he agreed easily. “But I’ve been cursed to fall in love with Artemis. So if anything, my mother should be questioning Artemis as to her intentions instead of this meeting of the manwhores.”
<
br /> Apollo glared at him and his skin pinkened to a burn. “Former manwhore. As you’d better be.”
“Can you guys please, please stop with the whole clashing of antlers, here? Apollo, you’re not the Great Stag or the Horned One.”
“I’m the horny one.” Apollo and Mordred quipped at the same time.
They turned to look at each other, sharing a knowing glance and laughed.
But Artemis was fed up. “Maybe you two should shag each other.”
She stomped off, but didn’t get far.
“That wasn’t as ugly as I thought it would be.” Mordred wrapped his arms around her waist.
“What?”
“Meeting your brother.”
“Why would you assume you’d meet him? He’s been too busy with Ephie and his new wife to ruin any of my plans.” She was still irritated.
“Artemis, come on. You’re going to fall in love with me. If we’re going to be together forever, I imagine at some point, I’d have to meet your family. Unless you plan on keeping me in a cave somewhere, strapped down for your pleasure. Which, I could be into.”
She broke away from him.
“Look, you’re hot and everything, but I don’t want to be in love,” Artemis said.
“Me either. But that’s not up to us.”
“I said I’d have Aphrodite break your curse, so really, this is just dumb.”
“What if I don’t want her to break it,” he whispered.
Artemis actually gulped. It was an audible sound, completely exaggerated. But it still didn’t sum up how she felt about that statement.
“I signed up for sex, not love.”
“I see. You just want to ride the ride, get your souvenir and go home.” His voice was devoid of any emotion.
The way he said it broke her heart just a little bit. She wanted to recapture what they’d felt before her stupid brother had interrupted them. The high of the chase, the take down, the excitement in their veins.
She’d been afraid of sex, but she was even more terrified of love. She’d seen how bad it could be, the things that happened to people who fell in love. If Aphrodite could see her train of thought, she’d kill her.
Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde Page 41
