Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101264 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 338(@300wpm)
Holy shit, he’s really not going to stop.
My safe word is on the tip of my tongue. Not because I want to stop, but because we should stop…
I clamp my lips shut and spread my thighs. A clear invitation that he doesn’t hesitate to take me up on. He wedges two fingers into me, catching my gasp with his hand over my mouth. Apollo fucks me slowly with his fingers, as if we can’t both hear the footsteps coming closer and closer to the door.
I knew I had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but this feels different. Heightened. We shouldn’t be doing this, but I don’t care. I don’t want to stop. I roll my hips, rubbing myself against his cock, and am rewarded by his sharp inhale.
The door opens.
I can’t see more than the top few inches of it from my position. Not enough to see whoever is standing there. I freeze.
Apollo doesn’t.
He keeps up that slow slide of his fingers in and out of me, though his body is tense behind mine. This is out of control. We are out of control. I’m…going to come. I shiver against him, not sure if I want him to stop or keep going. Not sure if whoever’s standing in the doorway walks up to the couch and looks down to see Apollo fingering me.
Can they hear us?
He’s not being rough, but surely they can hear the faint sound of finger fucking? I lean back harder against Apollo, and he responds by wedging a third finger into me.
Oh fuck, I really am going to come.
The door closes slowly. The click of it shutting might as well be a gun going off. I reach down and cover Apollo’s hand with mine, urging him to keep going, to finish this. I can’t stop shaking, can’t stop the little whimpers that his palm barely muffles.
He kisses my neck and nibbles on my ear. “Come for me, Cassandra. I want to feel it.”
My body responds to his command, clenching around his fingers as my orgasm crests hard enough to make my head spin. He eases me down slowly. “That’s my girl.”
I’m not his girl. Not in any permanent way. I just can’t quite make my mouth work to tell him so.
“That was a good start, but I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” He presses one last kiss to the spot behind my ear. “Do you want to walk or shall I carry you?”
Habit has me saying, “I can walk.”
He doesn’t immediately move back. “Cassandra.” There’s quiet censor in his voice. “Do you want me to carry you?”
Very much, but my heart is already doing something funny and I need to wrestle it back under control and quickly. Allowing Apollo to carry me—to care for me—is a terrible idea. No matter how much I crave it. “I want to walk.” I attempt to say it firmly, but the words emerge as a question.
Apollo finally nods. “Very well.” He stands, easily pulling me to my feet with him, though he keeps his hands cupped under my elbows as if he knows exactly how shaky my balance is right now.
“Thanks.”
It should feel silly to lace my fingers with his and allow him to lead me out of the room. Who walks around holding hands when they don’t need to? Even with Hermes, this wasn’t how I operated. She was into casual intimacy, but she wasn’t sweet. And this is sweet enough to make my teeth ache.
The feeling lasts until we turn the corner and come face-to-face with the Minotaur.
Apollo moves before I fully register the man’s presence. He uses his hold on my hand to tuck me neatly behind him and angles his body to stay between me and the larger man. Where before his body language was loose and easy, he’s now so rigid, I press my hand to the middle of his back in support.
“Minotaur.”
The Minotaur looks down at him with no expression at all. Apollo is tall, but the other man towers over him. His scarred face looks even scarier in the low lighting of the hallway. “You shouldn’t wander.”
That surprises me enough that I burst out laughing. “I’m sorry, but why not? Surely you aren’t going to try and convince us that there are ghosts haunting these halls.”
He shifts that eerie attention to me. “Your safety isn’t guaranteed, Cassandra.”
I blink. “What do you mean it’s not guaranteed?” Is he talking generally? Or about me specifically?
“Your safety isn’t guaranteed,” he repeats. “No cameras now. Who knows what could happen to you in the dark?” Without another word, he turns and stalks down the hall in the opposite direction.
Apollo doesn’t move until the other man is out of sight. Only then does he reclaim my hand and lead me back to the bedroom. He closes the door behind us and checks the lock. “Well, we have no cameras to worry about, but apparently they’re going to use that as an excuse to wash their hands of anything that happens here.”