“I think I found you, first.”
I tilt my head. I believe in fairness. “Tie then?”
“I’ll accept that.”
He links his fingers with mine and leads me up the dark stairwell. He stops at the top and I hear a lever spring. A door opens and we enter a small room. It’s cozy, with a couch and two chairs. A bed in the corner. He shuts the door behind us; it’s disguised as a bookshelf.
“What is this?”
“A safe room in the men’s dormitory. They’re located throughout the academy. Historically used for a variety of things; a quiet study room, a place to sleep. Rumor has it Zeus himself spent his final year here plotting to overthrow the board.”
I gaze around, thinking of my father in a place like this.
“There’s also a tale that he secretly met Leto here.” His fingers tighten in mine. His other hand brushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. “I thought you may prefer a little privacy.”
He’s right. I don’t want the whole academy to see my affection for this man. “This is new to me,” I confess, “despite my bold talk. I’m not afraid and my goals are true—I plan to live like the gods.”
“You chose well,” he tells me, leading me to the couch. “I’m a willing teacher.”
“Modest too.” I roll my eyes but it doesn’t stop the hammering of my heart.
“We’re wanting to start a revolution, there’s nothing that twists the panties of the gods more than sex and debauchery. Not that they disapprove. They’re greedy and want it all for themselves.”
“And you’ll teach me their ways?”
“Anything you want, love. We’ll start slow.”
“Is that normal for you? Slow?” I’m not exactly sure what he means, but I’ve seen the females stretched over his lap and the way they hang on the others. I remember his kiss from our time away. My lips burn at the memory. My stomach knots in anticipation. Something tells me he’s not used to ‘slow,’ and I have no interest in holding things up.
He laughs. “No, it isn’t. But you’re different, Artemis, and I want to do right by you. And there can be a thrill in taking your time. You’ll see.”
“Show me,” I say, inching closer to him on the couch. I have never been so close to a man before, not like this. Not with the promise of more. Not one so handsome or so confident. His gaze peers through me and my stomach trembles with nerves. His tightens and my instincts tell me that it’s from need. I’m still as he leans over and takes my chin in his hand before pressing his lips to mine.
My reaction is instantaneous, full-bodied, including my mind. His lips are warm, soft, and they move with precision. They move against mine, slowly, gods he is being so very careful, but there’s more. Manipulation—the good kind—and when his hand moves to the back of my neck, I open my lips and exhale.
It’s then that I taste his tongue, tangy like the champagne from the party. My fingers reach for his shirt and I wind them in the fabric for grounding. My skin feels electric. My loins cry with want. It’s the second time he’s made me feel like this. All from a kiss. A simple, sexy kiss. I can’t imagine what more will feel like, and I realize I don’t want to wait to find out.
A smile breaks on his mouth and he laughs, pulling back.
“You definitely make the little things worthwhile.” His smile is lopsided but there’s a trace of nerves in his eyes. It’s important to him. I’m important, and it makes the feeling in my chest that much more intense.
“Better than the last time. You’re very skilled,” I tell him. “Masterful, even.”
“Thank you,” he says. I like the way his hands feel on my neck, my shoulders. I also miss the heat of his mouth against mine. I understand why people like this. I already want more.
He senses that and in a moment, we’re intertwined again, overwhelmed by a million sensations. I can see why the gods like this, why they love their pleasure more than almost anything else. Why it’s equated to power.
I sink into Dion, hearing the groan in his throat and a rumble of desire in his chest, feeling a new world has opened up to me. One I plan to grasp fully.
Fingers trail down my neck, along the exposed collar of my dress and down my side. I feel an electric thrill across every inch of my skin and I push into him greedily.
Dion’s eyes brighten with my intensity but I sense him holding back. I want him to know I’m determined about this, committed, despite the fear of the unknown, despite the fact he has more experience, different expectations, and heated desires.
When I swing my leg over his and climb into his lap, he smiles in surprise. His hands move to my thighs, pushing at the hem of my skirt. I attempt to hide my own shock at the heat and hardness of his body between my legs. Like most social norms, I fail.
“Oh,” I blurt, unable to contain my reaction.
He raises an eyebrow and watches me. I shift, trying to find a comfortable position. The opposite happens, he grows larger—harder. I know it’s involuntary, like the dampening of the cotton separating my body from his.
“It’s always this hard?” I ask, feeling a little foolish.
“Not always, but you’re doing all the right things.” He brushes my hair over my shoulder then rubs his thumb over my bottom lip. Instinctively, I dart my tongue out and lick him. “Sitting on my lap and kissing me like that.”
“Those things excite you?”
“You have no idea.” He grazes the underside of my breasts with the back of his knuckles, igniting a jolting current. His thumb tweaks my nipple and our mouths meet again. I enjoy how he takes his time, despite his raging hunger.
Slowly I unbutton his shirt, reveling in being so close to his sculpted chest. I’ve seen him shirtless before but never had the chance to touch. That was a mistake, and now I explore every curve, every dip of the muscular surface. While I assess his body, his hands move to the back of my dress, deftly thumbing down the long row of buttons. He fumbles on the final two, his need increasing, and I drop my head into the crook of his shoulder, laughing at his frustration.
“You think that’s funny?” He kisses a giggle off my lips.
I slip the sleeves off my shoulders and twist, giving him access to my back. He unbuttons the final two and my arms are still holding up the fabric. I’m not shy. I never have been, but the way he looks at me…
I stand and let the dress fall, revealing my body.
His jaw drops while his eyes rake over every inch of my flesh. “You’ve been naked under there? This whole time?”
“Is that unusual?”
He doesn’t reply other than lunging for me, grabbing me in his arms, and carrying me over to the bed against the wall. Gently, he lowers me on the blanket and then stands over me, removing his pants and shorts. I can’t stop watching him—absorbing his flesh—the muscles that build his abdomen. The swaying, completely unfamiliar, shape of his length. I watch it bob up and down as he approaches the bed and I force myself not to grab it outright.
“May I?” I ask, holding my hand out.
“Artemis, no man will ever, ever, ever say no to that question.”
He crawls on the bed, moving to kiss me. I reach between his legs, feeling the mixture of hard and soft. The tip is wet, the shaft hot.
“Fascinating,” I say.
He pauses. “Excuse me?”
“What do you call your um…you know.”
“My cock?” He rests my hand on his and moves it up and down, making no qualms about being intimately familiar with his body.
“Cock,” I say, liking the way the word sounds rolling off my tongue. From the way he smiles, I think he likes it too.
Finished with vocabulary lessons, his hands attack my skin and explore with the same curiosity. I fall back into the pillow and he kisses me all over, pushing my senses to the edge.
With his nose touching mine he says, “Tell me if you want to stop. At any point.”