by Lazu, Sotia
Let her. He’d answer her questions, and then they’d spend the night—or the rest of their days together—making love.
At her insistence, they got dressed and sat at the dining-room table, facing each other. As if Hyperion couldn’t cover that distance in the blink of an eye, tear through a couple layers of clothing, and have her on his lap or bend her over the dark wood to ram into her from behind.
His cock, never fully relaxed since he met her, stirred again. He adjusted himself and met her gaze. “I don’t know where to start,” he said.
“At the beginning.” Her warm brown eyes bored into him, daring him to lie. He wouldn’t.
“I am of the first line of Titans, born by Gaia and Uranus. The stories told of our father are true. He was a tough, unfair ruler, and my brother Kronos sentenced him to Tartarus and took over his throne. But power and guilt drove him insane, and he started swallowing his children so none of them would imitate his treason. His wife saved the runt of the litter, you might say. She and Zeus asked help from those of us who didn’t approve of Kronos’ cruelty. I took neither side.”
He looked down, at his hands. Would she consider him a coward for this? “Kronos was my brother, and I wanted no harm to befall him, but I saw his cruel nature. So I sat on the sidelines while Thetis and Prometheus created humans to worship Zeus and take his side against his father. After he freed his siblings, and the Olympians took down Kronos and the few Titans who supported him, Zeus turned all males of my kind to stone, including Prometheus. I don’t know what became of my brothers after the Olympians cast me in the Aegean Sea, but I know the Titanesses were turned mortal, to—”
A splitting pain pierced his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut, and images of Atlas, Prometheus, Coeus, and Iapetus overlapped each other in his mind. Their screams of rage and torment filled his head, and the roaring of earth shifting beneath his feet almost threw him out of his chair. No. He had to hold on. Had to maintain control a little longer.
He forced his mind clear of the invasion and looked at Olivia again.
Her knuckles were white where she gripped the table. “Did you feel that?” she said.
“My brothers are screaming for me to release them.” She might think he was changing the subject, but he didn’t lie.
She let go of the table and steepled her fingers, but not before he saw her hands tremble. “Do you know where they are?” she asked.
Hyperion shook his head. “If their fates were similar to mine, they’re underwater, waiting for someone to find them and their... destiny to awaken them.” He couldn’t tell her yet he believed she was his soulmate. It would be too heavy a burden for a mortal, especially if she didn’t return his feelings. She desired him, no doubt, but did she love him? Could she?
“Why did you awaken?” she asked.
Because she touched him. Because his body couldn’t remain motionless in her proximity. Because her soul called to his. He shrugged. “It was my time.”
She pursed her lips. Her look of intense concentration gave way to shock. “Oh God. You were a statue for—”
“Five millennia, give or take a couple hundred years. I was lucky and outmaneuvered Zeus for eons before he finally found me. Atlas was captured first, almost thirty-five thousand years ago.”
She sat back with an oof. “Zeus can certainly hold a grudge, if he hunted you for that long.” She scrunched her adorable nose. “And you were cognizant throughout your captivity? I can’t believe you didn’t go crazy.”
Didn’t he? He saw and heard his brothers. He was spinning out of control and causing earthquakes. He gave her a sad smile. “I wasn’t constantly aware. For a time, in the darkness, I was sure I’d lose my mind. Being brought to the suite was amazing and devastating at the same time. I caught glimpses of a world that had moved on and left gods and Titans behind, yet I was incapable of interacting with it.”
“Is that how you know what you do about us? How you speak Modern Greek and English?”
He rubbed his face with both palms and met her gaze. She wasn’t going to like this. “No. That was Vangelis. He let me in his subconscious, and I absorbed the knowledge he’s acquired throughout his life. I can speak as well as he does, and I remember the feel of his mother’s embrace when he was a newborn, though his conscious mind has lost that memory. It was not my intention to harm him, and my intrusion has left him unaffected.”
Her eyes were as wide as the moon peeking in at them from the window. “Can you do that with any mortal?”
“I thought I could, but then there was you.” And Christina, who’d sensed him and brushed his influence away, but he might have broken past her resistance if he tried harder.
Olivia blushed and ducked her head. Her innocence made his blood boil. Everything she did was alluring.
“Don’t avert your face from me, sweet Olivia. I want you to look at me when I say again that I love you, with every fiber of my being.”
She licked her lips, and he could hear her pulse speeding. He could have her again, this very moment, but what they were doing was important too. She was getting to know him, and now was his turn.
“Tell me about yourself,” he urged. “Where were you born? How big is your family?”
“I’m from New York. United States of America. My mom and dad are still together, still stupidly in love, and I only have one younger sister. No drama.” She smiled that smile humans got when they thought of home, and his heart skipped a beat. His home was lost to him, but he could build a new one with the mortal who had him wrapped around her finger.
“Do you miss them?” he asked.
She grimaced. “More than I thought I would. I mean, I spent the last four years in Boston, studying for my degree.”
“In archeology.” He nodded. She frowned, so he explained. “I saw it in your personnel file, when I bought the hotel.”
“Less creepy than mind-reading, I guess.”
He chuckled.
She grinned. “Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me”—she mock-glared, and he pressed his lips together, to show he wouldn’t say another word—“after living away from home for so long, I thought coming here would be easy. But it’s totally different, being on the other side of the planet from them.”
Should he tell her he could blink her to New York for dinner? Or would it be lunch time there? He shook away the thought. Listen now, promise her the world later.
“Christina was a godsend,” Olivia said. “She’s so fun to be around, and she reminds me of Nina, my sister.”
“It’s good to find people you mesh with,” Hyperion said. “They help you fit in.” Would he ever fit in this world, outside his happy bubble with her? He’d have to. Olivia had actual ties she shouldn’t have to give up to be with him. “How old is your sister?”
“Twenty. She’s nothing like me. I was always the bookworm—always eager to learn more, get good grades, finish my studies in four years—and she’s so easy going. The life of the party. I’d never admit this to her, but growing up, I envied her ease around people. Maybe she’s the reason I took the chance to come here. All my life, I’ve done what I thought I should. Never what I wanted.”
“The pressure of the parents’ expectations usually falls on the first child.”
She shook her head. “I was the one pressuring myself. My dad has this saying, that he’d rather be happy than successful, and it’s worked out well for him. He’s a high-school teacher at a private academy, and he loves his job. Mom is the breadwinner in the family. She works for a pharmaceutical company, as VP of sales. You’d think the power imbalance would mess with their relationship, but they complement each other.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You got your drive from your mother, then. Nothing wrong with wanting to be successful.” Hyperion’s smile was warm, inviting her to say more. Was there more?
“But I don’t know if that’s what I want. Since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to become an archaeologist, but after grad
uation... I’m not sure that was even my goal, or if I was chasing a six-year-old’s dreams.” Apparently, there was more. More than she’d put into words before. “I told myself this summer would be my chance to let loose a little. Go out, drink, meet boys. Then I’d return to my life, build a career, and make the best of my degree. Be a success.”
He tilted his head. His eyes, amber now, saw right to her very core. “But not happy.”
“Not happy.” She’d convinced herself happy wasn’t good enough, but when she was in his arms, and he looked at her like she was his world, she’d been happy. Even when she was afraid of him, a little part of her reveled at the excitement of the unknown. “You know, I’d made contingency plans for everything”—including a summer fling—“except you.”
“And now that you met me?”
She sighed. “Your existence is proof I can’t be prepared. That plans aren’t guarantees. And that maybe what I wanted out of life isn’t what I need.” She shouldn’t have made him sit across the table. She wished she could pull his arms around her while she bared her soul like this. “But if I fought for the wrong thing so many years, where does that leave me? Who am I, if I’m not good-girl Olivia, soon to be archaeologist extraordinaire?”
“You’re a woman in search of a new dream.”
Was it possible she’d found one that combined her degree with the adventurous life she never allowed herself to experience? “I could help you look for your brothers,” she said.
His expression was unreadable, his face more impassive than when he was made of marble. Was her suggestion too much of a commitment? Did he feel pressured?
She was done second-guessing herself. He was the one who talked about love, and that was a commitment.
Still, she whispered, “If you want me to, that is.”
Hyperion stared at her, and the more he didn’t speak, the faster the words spilled from her lips. “You obviously know more than I do about where they could be, and you can manipulate minds, so you don’t need my help, but I could be your inside man. Woman. If you know where to look, and you fund an expedition, I can organize it.” Did she sound desperate?
Why wasn’t he saying anything?
She blinked, and he was beside her, pulling back her chair.
“What—?”
“I need to be inside you. Now.” He picked her up like she weighed nothing, and tore open the fly of her pants. No, wait. Yeah, he tore open her jeans, all the way. He had to stop destroying her clothes, damn it.
She’d yell about it later, because now he propped her ass on the dining-room table and shoved down his jeans so hard the seams popped.
He tugged her panties out of the way and pushed into her. She was still aching from this afternoon, but she urged him on with her heels on his buttocks. Who cared about the pain, when she knew the pleasure that would follow?
Her eyes rolled back in her head, as he ploughed her body. The vase that stood on the table rattled closer to the edge with each of Hyperion’s thrusts, and then crashed to the floor. It would only take a pinch on her clit, for Olivia to chase it over the edge, but Hyperion kept driving her higher until she was a ball of desire, floating on air. She couldn’t control her limbs. Her body was his now. And she was falling.
Hyperion took care of her again. He showered her, and then took her to his bed, and fed her room service. The energy was sapped out of her, and her ass was sore where the wood dug into it. She had bruises from his grip on her thighs and felt raw between them, but the sting was carried on euphoria at the memory of their time together.
A Titan had fucked her raw. A Titan chose her for his bed. Her Titan.
Her Titan had deflected with crazy sex when she implied she wanted a future with him.
“So did you like my idea about the expedition?” she asked, nuzzling his chest. The short curly hairs were still damp from the shower, and he smelled good enough to eat.
As if he heard her thoughts, he put his hand on the top of her head, and nudged her lower. His erection tapped her chin.
“Don’t you ever go soft?” she asked, running a finger down his length.
“Not when you’re around.” His shaft bobbed in front of her eyes. “And I seem to remember a certain promise...”
After all they’d done, she suddenly felt bashful. In the elevator, she’d been driven by her need for answers and the illusion of power she held over him when she had him in her mouth. Now the angle was awkward, and she was too exhausted to move. Her inexperience would show.
“Kiss it.” His voice had gone lower. Rougher.
She licked her lips and placed an open-mouthed kiss on the velvet tip.
“Deeper. Use your tongue.”
He hissed when she tucked her lips over her teeth and pushed down on him. When the head was in her mouth, she swirled her tongue around it and along the tiny slit in the top. His hips flew off the mattress, and when she looked at him, his head was thrown back, the tendons in his neck bulging with strain. She circled his girth with her hand and tugged.
Hyperion groaned, and so did the headboard, where he gripped it.
She did this. To an immortal being.
Olivia closed her lips over him again and sucked, then used her tongue to trace the thick vein on the underside.
“You’re killing me, woman,” he roared.
She laughed, and one of his hands flew to her hair, holding her still.
“That tickles,” he ground out.
She took more of him in and swallowed. Having her tonsils taken out finally paid off when he nudged the back of her throat and kept going. Her eyes teared up, but she fought her gag reflex and swallowed again.
“I’m not going to last long.” He gathered her hair in his fist and pulled, but she wasn’t done with him.
She pumped him with her hand and slid her mouth up and down his length until his thigh trembled.
“Olivia, I’m going to come.”
She couldn’t speak with her mouth full, so she tightened her lips around the head of his cock and sucked, pumping her fist faster.
He twitched, and then his cum spurted on her tongue and the back of her throat. It was salty and tangy. Not unpleasant. She swallowed, and then laughed when he dragged her up his body for a searing kiss. More questions could wait till morning.
Chapter Sixteen
Hyperion felt rested. Rejuvenated. Restored.
Sleeping through the night with her in his arms was incredible.
And then Eros popped in, and Hyperion was a bunch of nerves again.
“You’ve got the physical thing down pat, I see,” Eros said.
Hyperion wanted to wipe the smug grin off the god’s face. With his foot. “You’ll wake her.”
“Nah. I’m not really here. You’re dreaming of me.”
Hyperion sat up, but didn’t. He could see his body lying curled around Olivia’s form, their breathing synchronized. They fit together like jigsaw pieces. She completed him, like that girl, from the movie that made Vangelis swoon.
“I have better things to dream of.” Hyperion waved him away.
“Can’t disagree with that, but remember—tick-tock.”
Hyperion was woken by his own growl. The pesky god might have invaded his sleep, but what he said was true. Time was running out.
A look outside showed the sky was the light gray of predawn, and Hyperion knew how he wanted to greet the day.
His hand was around one of Olivia’s breasts. He squeezed, and she moaned. His morning erection demanded taking care of, and this time they’d do things properly. He’d bond with her today.
Olivia stretched on her back, but he shook his head. “On your knees.”
He didn’t have to say it twice. She rolled over and brought her knees under her, her face pressed to her pillow.
Hyperion used more pillows under her body, to lift her hips. She looked so deliciously submissive, with her ass in the air, like this. He could think of a thing or two to do to this ass, but not now. Now, he’d claim her
soul.
He moved behind her, draped his body over hers, and slipped his fingers between her folds. “So wet,” he murmured, “and all mine.”
Olivia let out a mewling sound and pushed back, but he withdrew his fingers and replaced them with the tip of his cock. Holding her hip with one hand, he slowly pushed forward until he was sheathed inside her. “Does it hurt?” he asked. It might, after last night’s acrobatics.
“Nuh uh.” That sounded like a no, so he slid out and thrust forward again.
She moaned and tightened around him, but he was beyond waiting for her to get used to his girth. He drove inside so hard, her body jerked. And again. Faster. Moving his grip to the back of her neck, he slid his other hand around her front, to rub her clit to the rhythm of his thrusts. “I love feeling you around me, strangling my cock.”
In response, she rocked her hips faster, urging him on. Her fingers were buried in the pillow, and a rivulet of sweat trickled down her spine.
“Tell me you want me,” he said.
“I want you.” Her voice was muffled. “Want you so much.”
“Tell me you love me.”
She didn’t speak, and he leaned forward, to place a kiss between her shoulder blades. “Talk to me, Olivia. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I...”
The ringing jarred him. What was that sound?
“Olivia, tell me you’re mine.” He slammed his hips against her ass, but her body stiffened, as the ringing continued.
“Your... phone...” she said between gasps.
Shit. His phone. Circe or Eros were the only ones who could be calling. Stopping at this point would require gargantuan effort, but if he didn’t take the call, he risked destroying far more than a window or a door next time he lost control. Next time, Olivia might be in danger.
He looked around and spotted the flashing screen on the floor by his discarded jeans from last night. “Don’t move. I have to get this.”
Olivia glared at him over her shoulder. “Now? Seriously?”
“I promise to make it up to you.” He got out of bed, already missing her wet heat, and snatched the phone. He pressed a button blindly and brought it to his ear.
