Above

by Sotia Lazu

  “Only for you. Have been, for centuries.” Millennia, really. Until she had Circe wipe her from his memory. But he wouldn’t hold Magda accountable for that. Not when the love he used to feel for her had returned to fill his heart with joy and hope. Not when he’d seen Pherusa wither away with the pain of love lost. He might hate that Aphrodite had made such a decision for him, but she’d saved him a couple thousand years of pain. And she’d have eternity to make it up to him.

  Her hips bucked, her back arching off the mattress, and she dug her nails into his arm as her inner walls fluttered around him. “Show me.” The command reached him loud and clear, but she hadn’t spoken the words.

  They’d had a mental link before—weaker than he’d seen his sister have with her Titan, but there. Was it being reestablished?

  He tested it by sending her a mental image of his mouth latched to her divine pussy.

  She groaned. “No. I need more.” Again, she didn’t speak aloud.

  Nerites rolled on top of her, the tip of his cock nudging her entrance. He should ask if she was sure she wanted this, but he tasted her certainty in her thoughts, so he drove inside her in one long, hard thrust.

  She was tight and wet, and squeezed him like a vice. His every nerve urged him to take her, to slide in and out of her until she molded to his shape, until she spun out of control. Until he fucked her memories of him—of them—back into her.

  He gritted his teeth and held still, allowing her to adjust to his girth. And maybe catching his breath, because she’d stolen it together with his heart.

  Magda arched her back and dug her heels into his ass. His signal to start moving.

  He rocked against her slowly at first, stretching her and getting her to the dig-nails-in point again, then angled his hips and drew his strokes longer, pulling out almost to the tip before plunging into her again. And again. And again.

  This was heaven. How was it possible, magic or not, to forget the sensation of her body yielding to him? Forget her scent, the flush of her skin, the widening of her pupils? Forget her clenching around him, drawing him in, fisting her hand in his hair to pull him down for a soul-searing kiss? How could her feel and taste have slipped his mind?

  “More,” she pleaded in his head, and he bit on her bottom lip, digging his hands in her hips while he pounded her into the mattress. Sweat beaded on her brow, and a feral grin stretched her lips. “You found me.” Her lips formed the words into the most perfect sound, her irises fully silver.

  She remembered.

  He thrust inside her hard, not letting up when she thrashed and bucked and keened, her nails raising furrows in his shoulders and her pussy milking him until his balls tightened and he spilled inside her. His body jerked with the force of his release, a single word rolling from his tongue and reverberating in his skull, until he didn’t know if he said it or Magda did.

  Mine.

  He didn’t realize when he fell asleep, but when he opened his eyes again, he was alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Home. She was home. Nerites inside her, his weight pressing down on her, his blue eyes glimmering like jewels was perfection. For the first time since she remembered herself, she was where she belonged.

  The fragments of memories lost that had swam to the surface before, when he was eating her out, came together to form the complete picture of a past long buried. She was Aphrodite, and they’d been so in love. The bond that tethered them them was still present, and now they’d never be apart again.

  “You found me.”

  And he was making her his, just like he was hers.

  Mine.

  Her release swept away all thought, as white hot pleasure took over her body, and stars that couldn’t be seen down here blurred her vision, until all she could make out was the dark blue of his eyes. She was drowning again. In him. And loving every moment.

  She gave in, allowing him to suffuse all her senses. She breathed him in. Tasted him on her lips. Heard his heartbeat beneath her, as he rolled to the side and cradled her to his chest. Felt his fingers send jolt of pleasure down her spine, as he drew circles over her skin. He was her world.

  And then Nerites’ eyelids drifted shut, and Magda stopped seeing those mesmerizing irises. And she remembered more.

  He’d proclaimed his love that same day Aphrodite was given life. He’d taken her on the sand and promised to always be hers. Gods, he was gorgeous and kind and thoughtful, and he made every moment special, as he taught her about life and love.

  Until her father, spiteful and controlling as he always was, ordered her back to Olympus. She had two days to return and claim her seat on the Pantheon, or he’d end Nerites. She begged her prince to go with her—Zeus promised to welcome him if he abandoned Poseidon’s turf—but Nerites’ loyalties lay with his kingdom. He turned Aphrodite down, and she fled, but she wasn’t alone.

  Panic buried its claws into Magda’s gut. She had a baby. A son, now centuries older than she was. Eros. She’d given birth to the god of love. Poor Hephaestus, suffering under Zeus’ meddling as much as Aphrodite was, had raised the boy as his own, never once making advances on her. But Eros was still Nerites’ son.

  How could she have kept that from the man she loved? How could she have left that man behind?

  How could he let her go?

  She had someone erase his memories of her. Mess with his mind. And yet, now that he remembered, he still loved her.

  This was all too crazy.

  She carefully scooted back, disentangling herself from him. The room felt cold now, though the temperature couldn’t have changed—wouldn’t have, in the palace. Sitting up, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. She was lightheaded and heavyhearted and more lost than when she dove into the water after the stranger who haunted her dreams.

  Part of her entertained the idea that this was a dream or an illusion her mind created to make the last few moments of her life as painless as possible, but it was small part. The same that had always rationalized things to keep her from over-thinking. Like when she told herself a single woman could adopt an orphan without spending years tangled up in Greek bureaucracy. She could no longer cling to that lie; among the memories she regained were those of her rebirth. Her birth mother was young and terrified. Crying, bleeding, she abandoned newborn Magda on the rocks, near a cove Magda didn’t recognize. The infant clung to life though the water rose, and her cries reached Grandma, who’d gone to the sea to end her own life after losing her daughter.

  Grandma and Magda had saved each other that day.

  Chest tight and tears blurring her vision, Magda stood on trembling legs and picked up her robe from where she’d left it before her shower. She wrapped it around her and tied the sash tight, before padding out of the room as silently as possible. She needed to get out of there. Reach the surface. Breathe.

  She was suffocating.

  It had to be a panic attack—she’d had no trouble breathing till now—but telling herself so didn’t make breathing any easier. Her throat was clogged, an invisible fist clenched around her lungs.

  What was she running from? Nerites? Past pain? Possible future happiness?

  All of it. It was too much. Only this morning, she was a real-estate agent, starting over. She was single, and most of all, childless. Oh, and not the reincarnation of a freaking Olympian goddess. And now... this. She needed time. Needed to break it all down to pieces that made sense.

  She trotted to the stairs at the end of the corridor and took them down two at a time, clutching at the banister to keep from toppling down head first. The exit was down here somewhere. Not that she could swim her way out of Vythos. Was she even immortal now? She should find King Nereus. Or a sea daimon. Someone to take her to the surface before Nerites woke up and she had to tell him to his face that she was leaving him again.

  Council room. It was her best bet to find someone who could take her above.

  Her hopes wilted when she saw the doors to the room unguarded. The king wouldn’
t be in.

  Sounds of a scuffle drifted from the room. Not allowing rational thought to interfere with her panic, Magda turned the golden door handle and pushed her way inside.

  Yeah, no. She was dreaming. She couldn’t be seeing Iphigenia—her freaking sparring partner from Athens—and... What was the name of the gorgeous blonde who’d bought the villa in Santorini with her equally impossibly good-looking husband?

  That had been a weird sale. Magda didn’t recall the couple closing on the property, but the papers were signed, and her hefty commission had made it easier to relocate.

  Links formed between Magda’s and Aphrodite’s past, and Magda wanted to scream as memories slammed into the forefront of her mind. The blonde’s hot husband hadn’t been human. He was freaking Prometheus, one of the Titans Aphrodite had begged Zeus to spare.

  And the blonde was Pherusa, one of Nerites’ sisters.

  Right. There was no way Magda was really seeing Pherusa, Iphigenia, and a brunette performing a kung-fu kata in perfect synchronicity.

  Which could only mean— “I’m dreaming.” Sadness spilled behind Magda’s ribs and into her belly, bringing with it a bone-numbing chill. If this was a dream, so was everything that had transpired between her and Nerites. Moments ago, she was fleeing him, but knowing without a doubt that he wouldn’t come chasing, that the possibility of being with him again wasn’t real, tore at her insides. And that was before another realization sank in.

  If this was a dream, if he never saved her from the sea, she was dying.

  A choked sob made it past her lips, as Iphigenia jerked her head toward her, eyes wide as saucers. “Magda?” Moving too fast, Iphigenia closed the distance between them. Flecks of gold swirled in her irises, and she looked too lifelike, for an apparition.

  Then again, so had Nerites.

  “What are you doing here?” Iphigenia asked. “How are you here?”

  “I brought her”—Nerites’ voice came from right behind Magda, his warmth seeping into her back—“and I’m keeping her.”

  Chapter Twelve

  He’d expected Magda to put up more of a fight when he found her and declared his intention, but she sagged back against him, allowing him to wrap his arms around her. She was shaking. Why?

  “What’s wrong, my love?” he asked.

  She shook her head. “You’re not real. None of this is real. Iphigenia can’t be here.”

  He turned her in his arms, so he could see her face. Tears cascaded down her cheeks. She looked so much like she had the last time they said goodbye, even if her features were all different than they used to be—the nose a little smaller, the eyes more widely set and with paler lashes, the mouth more generous—that his heart squeezed painfully. He wouldn’t lose her again, even if it meant spending the rest of his days above the surface.

  “How do you know Atlas’ mate?” he asked.

  “Atlas? The Titan? He’s awake?” she asked cautiously.

  “Yes, and he’s not the only one. Unfortunately Kronos is also rising to consciousness. That’s why the Titanesses are training.”

  She stayed silent, but her thoughts might as well have been broadcast. Titanesses. Iphigenia was a Titaness, and so was Pherusa, which meant her man really was—

  Nerites nodded. “Prometheus. My brother in law.”

  “I...” Magda cleared her throat. “I think I sold them a house.”

  “And it’s marvelous,” Pherusa said from inside the room. She and Olivia stepped closer.

  Iphigenia tapped Magda on the shoulder. “I can punch you, if that will help.”

  Nerites took a step back, pulling Magda with him. “How could that possibly help?”

  Iphigenia shrugged. “You don’t feel pain in dreams. If I hurt her, she’ll know she’s awake.”

  Would she? He’d fucked her, and she still had doubts.

  “I heard that,” Magda mumbled.

  He cupped her neck and trailed his thumb up the side, to right below her earlobe. “Good. So you know my pride is wounded.”

  Her shiver was one of desire, as he easily read through their bond. Because they very much were bonded.

  “I’m scared,” she said.

  Instead of offering soothing words, he closed his mouth over hers and poured everything he felt for her into the kiss. It was a promise that he’d always be here. That he’d never let go again. That she was the one thing that mattered the most to him. She and their son.

  Breaking the kiss, he focused his thoughts on the witch. “Circe,” he called out. “I want my son. Bring him to me.”

  Magda’s hopeful smile made his heart skitter. He’d do anything to make her smile this wide for eternity.

  The witch materialized inside the council room, eyes downcast. “Eros won’t have anything to do with me, but I can take you to him, if you wish.”

  The females startled at the sound of her voice, but Nerites nodded. “Do so, and all is settled between us.” He was happy; he might as well be magnanimous.

  Circe blinked beside him and clasped his hand. Instinctively, Nerites tightened his hold on Magda and squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again, they stood on a clearing, surrounded by thick foliage. A mere couple meters away stood a male with Nerites’ hair and Aphrodite’s eyes. Only Eros’ eyes were even wider than his mother’s.

  “You...” Eros pointed from Nerites to Magda. “Are you...?”

  Magda sniffed and stepped out of Nerites’ embrace to face her son. “You were more eloquent last time I saw you, kiddo.”

  Eros rushed her and lifted her in his arms, and she squealed with pure delight. Nerites’ heart expanded. He longed to join their reunion, but could he hug a grown male and call him son? For all he knew, Eros might resent him for even unknowingly shirking his role as a father.

  Eros looked at him and grimaced. “I can’t really call him old man, can I?” he asked Magda. To Nerites he said, “I see where I got the looks, but couldn’t you have a couple wrinkles, at least?”

  Nerites laughed, and it felt more natural than it had in ages. He opened his arms, and Magda and Eros stepped into them. His life, his heart, was full, and now more than ever he was willing to do anything to save this world. For his family.

  The End

  (But keep reading for a taste of A Seer for the Titan)

  ELPIDA RUBBED HER CHEEK against the warm male chest. Muscle stretched and bunched, hard and utterly lickable.

  Huh? She didn’t remember sleeping with someone. Didn’t remember meeting someone to sleep with. When could she have? She was driving to pick up Daphne—

  Fuck.

  She opened her eyes and rolled away from the hard planes, only to drop indignantly into the cold, wet earth. Looking up gave her a too detailed view of the crazy—and crazy-hot—stranger’s scrotum and fully-erect penis, so she dropped her gaze to his huge feet. And come on, the situation allowed for her to think of his... things as balls and dick.

  “What—? What—?” What to ask first? A naked guy had literally crawled out of a hole in front of her, and if she wasn’t mistaken, told her in Ancient Greek that he was Prometheus’ brother, Epimetheus.

  And that was all she understood, because high school was a dozen years ago, and her knowledge of Ancient Greek came from a couple books she half-heartedly skimmed through, to pass the class. Also, brother to sounded almost identical in the ancient and modern version of the language.

  Maybe he said he was named Epimetheus, like Prometheus’ brother?

  Whatever his name, he knelt in front of her, and she tried not to watch the bobbing member between his thick, muscular thighs, but it was remarkably proportional to his enormous body. Remarkably clean, too, as was the rest of him, considering he’d been under the earth minutes ago.

  He said something and smiled. It softened the angles of his face and made his eyes shine gold. Nah. That was her headlights, reflecting off his irises.

  “I don’t understand you,” she said again, though she might have caught the word name.
Maybe he was a tourist. “Do you speak English?” she asked in English. When he didn’t react, she asked the same in German. “Sprechen Sie Deutch?”

  Nada—and that was the only word she knew in Spanish, so she couldn’t try that.

  Epimetheus gently took her hand and helped her to her feet. Her ass hurt where it had made contact with the ground. She was lucky she hadn’t bumped her head. Or she had, in the car, and was still there, having a lovely hallucination.

  Need more? Epimetheus and Elpida’s story will be out June 15.

  Want more TITANS? Get the FREE prequel, Under, HERE and make sure you’ve read Book 1 – A Nereid for the Titan, Book 2 – A Maid for the Titan, and Book 3 – A Guard for the Titan.

  Sign up for Sotia’s Newsletter, and get your FREE copy of Breathe – TITANS 2.5

  And of course, don’t forget to get Book 4, A Seer for the Titan, on June 15!

  Into Vampire Urban Fantasy? Read the Vampire Cherry series!

  #0 Cherry Pop – FREEBIE, #1 Cherry Stem, #2 Cherry Blossom, #3 Cherry Pie, #3.5 Cherry Christmas - FREEBIE (a Vampire Cherry/Paranormal Vampire Investigator crossover)

  And continue with Paranormal Vampire Investigator #1 Cherry Stem and the Pissed-off Ghost

  In the mood for Contemporary Ménage? Threefold is what you need!

  #1 Colin – FREEBIE, #2 Brad, #3 Becca

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  SOTIA SHARES HER LIFE and living quarters with her husband, their son, and two rescue dogs, one of which may be part-pony. Sappy movies make her cry, and she wishes she could take in all the stray dogs in the world.

  Sotia spent her formative years reading anything she could get her hands on, including steamy romances her grandma would frown upon—nah, Grandma would totally approve.