Unchained: An Eternal Guardians Novella Page 5

  His mind skipped back over the blood he’d found in the gazebo, and his steps slowed as he remembered the way she’d abruptly left him—twice now. She’d told him the blood had been animal, not hers, but he couldn’t stop wondering if they were somehow connected. She’d said she was a prisoner. He, better than anyone, knew how the king of the gods treated prisoners. He thought back to her creamy flesh in the low-cut green gown and her flawless face. She hadn’t appeared hurt when she’d come to him, but she knew how to use magic, and if Zeu—

  Voices sounded from the corridor, bringing his head around. His heart picked up speed when he realized one voice was female. Was it her? Was she back? He stepped toward the door, excitement burning like fire in his blood, only to draw to a stop when his daughter Natasa and her mate, Titus, appeared at the threshold of the room.

  Disappointment swept through him, a disappointment he tried to mask.

  “There you are,” Natasa said with a smile as she crossed toward him, slid her arms around his waist, and pressed her cheek to his chest. “Hi, pateras.”

  Pateras. Father. He didn’t feel much like a father. He felt like a failure when it came to her.

  His arms drifted around her slim shoulders, and he hugged her back, but when he looked down and caught sight of her flame-red hair—red thanks to the fire element he’d hidden from the gods in her blood hundreds of years ago and which had caused her intense pain until she’d been reborn in the flames—the guilt he always felt around her consumed him again.

  She was safe, he told himself. No longer suffering. And she was happy. His gaze drifted to Titus, standing with his hands tucked into the front pockets of his jeans, his dark wavy locks tied at his nape with a leather strap, a bemused expression across his face.

  Titus loved Prometheus’s daughter. Would do anything to protect her. Their bond was strong and real and deep.

  His gaze drifted back down to Natasa. To her flame-red hair. Hair that was as red as Keia’s.

  Urgency pushed in again. He needed to find Keia. Couldn’t go on waiting. Why the hell hadn’t she appeared to him yet?

  Natasa eased back and looked up. “We came out to invite you to dinner tonight.”

  His daughter was speaking to him but he could barely make out her words. All he could think about was the witch.

  “Pateras?” she asked. Then, “Titus?”

  Footsteps sounded close, followed by Titus’s quiet voice. “He’s blocking me. I can’t tell what he’s thinking.” Then louder, “Prometheus? Dude, are you feeling all right? You don’t look so good.”

  Prometheus blinked several times and finally focused on his daughter’s worried face, then looked past her to her mate’s narrowed hazel eyes. Titus stood behind Natasa, his hand resting on her shoulder, the ancient Greek text that marked his and all the Argonaut’s forearms visible in the lamplight.

  The male wasn’t wearing his ever-present gloves. Titus had the ability to not only hear others’ thoughts, but to pick up their emotions through touch. That ability, Prometheus knew, was one Titus had always considered a curse. But with Natasa he liked knowing what she was feeling. One look at his daughter’s face told Prometheus she was feeling fear and confusion...all because of him.

  That knowledge jolted him out of his trance. Fixing a relaxed look on his face—as relaxed as he could manage considering his focus remained locked on Keia—he smiled. “I’m fine. How are both of you?”

  Natasa’s worry fled, and she reached for her father’s hand. “Good. Titus has to leave on a mission in the human realm with the Argonauts day after tomorrow so we thought we’d cook dinner for you tonight. It is your birthday, you know.”

  His birthday. He’d totally forgotten it was his birthday. At his age, one didn’t celebrate birthdays anymore. Especially when one’s life was as empty as his. A birthday was just a reminder of the passing years and the life he wasn’t living. But today he wanted to celebrate. Just not with his daughter and her mate. He wanted to celebrate with Keia.

  A renewed urge to find her rushed through him. To see her. To touch her and taste her. To make sure she was okay. If she wasn’t going to come to him, he needed to go to her. He’d go back to the gazebo. Find a way to contact her. There had to be something in that gazebo that could draw her back to him. He didn’t know what but maybe if he used his Titan powers he could—

  “Pateras?” Natasa said again. “You’re starting to worry me.”

  Prometheus blinked again and looked down at his daughter. But inside, his heart was racing.

  “No need to worry.” Grasping Natasa at the biceps—careful not to graze Titus’s fingertips in the process—Prometheus pressed a kiss to the top of her head and released her. “Thanks for the invite but I actually have plans tonight. And I’m already late so I should get going.”

  “You do?” Natasa’s brow lowered as Prometheus stepped around her and Titus. “With whom?”

  “With a female.”

  Surprise and approval lit Natasa’s eyes as she looked up at her mate, then back at Prometheus. She knew he never made plans. “Who is she?”

  Stopping at the threshold of the library, he looked back. “A witch. And before you say anything, I know what I’m doing.”

  “I’m sure you do. Have fun, I guess.” A wry smile spread across Natasa’s lips. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

  Before he knew what he was doing, he smiled back. “I won’t.”

  And he wouldn’t. Because what he planned to do with Keia wouldn’t be the least bit stupid. It would be hot and wild and, if she let him, mind-meltingly satisfying for both of them.

  * * * *

  She couldn’t keep doing this.

  The reality of Circe’s situation was a heavy weight on her shoulders as she focused her powers to bring the gazebo into focus. Zeus’s shade had hit her again just as her strength had returned from the attack that had pulled her away from Prometheus two days ago. She never knew when the shade was going to come, which made it impossible for her to prepare herself for his assault. If she had any hope of surviving this nightmare she needed to spend her time focusing her powers to protect herself rather than wasting them building this fantasyland.

  That knowledge caused an ache to spread out from the center of her chest. Not because it meant she was going to disappoint Zeus by not getting him the element he wanted, but because it meant no longer seeing Prometheus.

  She’d thought long and hard about this decision while her body had been healing. When she was stronger, when she knew how to fight the shade, then she could come back and find Prometheus again. But right now she needed to protect herself or she’d never have the strength to go through with her plan.

  “Keia.”

  Fabric rustled behind her in the fading afternoon light. Startled out of her thoughts, Circe turned to see Prometheus rising from the chaise and striding toward her. Her pulse shot up as he drew near. His hazel eyes were a little bit wild, a whole lot hot, and when he reached her and his hand brushed her elbow, electrical impulses shot from the spot straight into her belly.

  She swallowed hard, told herself to be tough. That she’d come here to say good-bye for now, not get lost in his immortal good looks and fabulous scent of pine and citrus. But her resistance wavered as he pulled her in, as his long, lean body brushed hers, and his mouth lowered to draw her into a blistering hot kiss.

  His lips were just as fierce as his eyes, and the moment his tongue dipped inside to stroke against hers, all the reasons she’d told herself she couldn’t have him faded in the ether.

  Her hands slid up his chest and around his neck. Her breasts tingled as she leaned into him, as she kissed him back, as she melted in his arms like honey. A moan rumbled from his chest, and he tightened his arms around her, drawing her even closer to his heat and energy and life. Her fingers drifted into the silky hair at his nape. Desire turned to a frantic urge she couldn’t resist. In a haze, she realized she was moving, being drawn forward as he moved back, but she didn’t care
. All she could focus on was his desperate kiss, his commanding hands turning her in the gazebo, the way his erection pressed against her with a heedless need of its own.

  “Gods, Keia.” His fingers found the line of buttons down her spine as his lips moved to her jaw. Shivers rushed over her as he breathed hot across her skin and pressed a wicked line of kisses down her throat. “I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since you left.”

  His hands made quick work of the buttons on her dress as she trailed her fingers down his muscular back and up and under the black T-shirt he wore. Sparks of desire coiled in her belly, made her thighs tremble in anticipation. Her eyes slid closed as she traced the carved lines of his abs and savored the sensation. “Me too.” Oh gods, she couldn’t think when he kissed her like that. “I mean you. Titos...don’t stop doing that.”

  A primitive growl—a sound laced with a burning passion she felt all the way to her toes—echoed from his chest. He drew a breath away, grasped the pale blue dress at her shoulders, and pushed it down her arms. Cool air washed over her breasts as he bared them to his view. Her nipples tightened, and when his eyes darkened and his approving gaze swept over her, those tingles in her belly ricocheted straight into her sex.

  “I think I’m going mad, but I don’t care.” He palmed her right breast, lifted it in his hand as he lowered his head. “I need to taste you.”

  “Oh, yes...”

  His tongue swept over her nipple, and she groaned and threaded her fingers back into his hair, reveling in the wicked sensations and heady desire spinning around her.

  He licked and laved her nipple, sending her need into overdrive. With his other hand, he palmed her left breast, pushed them together and teased both nipples with his tongue. Her breaths grew shallow and fast. Her sex contracted with the need to feel him everywhere. Sliding her hands back down to his shoulders, she somehow managed to find the hem of his T-shirt and pull the garment up his spine.

  He drew away so she could tug the shirt off. Tossing it on the ground, she reached for him again but he moved quickly, his hands bunching in the fabric at her waist. Before she knew what was happening, he pushed the dress all the way to the floor and moaned.

  “Oh, Keia...”

  She was naked beneath the dress. In her haste to get here and tell him she was leaving for good, she hadn’t thought to conjure undergarments. Something in the back of her mind warned this was her last chance to leave. That she needed to get out of here before this went too far. But as he lowered to his knees, her sex clenched and she knew she was lost. There was no way she could leave now. Not when he was looking at her like she was the only thing he’d ever wanted.

  He coaxed her to lift one foot out of the fabric at her feet and step back. The chaise brushed against her calves. He pushed the dress aside, inched forward on his knees, and grasped her hand in his, pulling her down to sit.

  “Turn, Keia.” His hands landed on her knees, pushing her legs apart. As she turned slightly, he slid one hand under the back of her knee and lifted her foot to the seat. Her spine pressed into the plush cushions as he positioned her. Then he was moving closer, his hands trailing up the insides of her thighs, his hot breath fanning her sex until she was trembling with need.

  He parted her with his fingers, stared down at her as if she were a feast he couldn’t wait to devour. Her stomach quivered with anticipation. Her hands shook against the seat of the chaise. When he didn’t make a move, she knew she couldn’t wait any longer. On a desperate breath, she reached for him, wrapped her hand around the back of his head, and pulled him closer. “Taste me, Titos. Don’t make me wait.”

  “Yes,” he breathed against her. Then his tongue swept over her clit, sending shards of pleasure all through her core.

  She moaned. Lifted her hips to his wicked touch. Shivered as he circled her clit then trailed his tongue down to her opening and pressed inside.

  Her eyes slid closed as she leaned back. All she knew was his touch, his tongue moving against her to drive her mad, his hands sliding up her belly to cup and tease her breasts. Heat prickled her skin, made her need that much hotter. She lifted and lowered her hips in time with his frantic strokes, moving faster as the orgasm built. And when he drew her over-sensitized nub between his lips and suckled, the wave of ecstasy broke over her like a tidal wave cresting the mountains.

  She cried out, trembled against his lips as the pleasure raced along her nerve endings. The wave slowly faded, and vaguely she became aware of her surroundings, of the darkness pressing in from outside the gazebo, of the soft cushion beneath her, of her knees open, one leaning against the back of the chaise. But then his lips moved over her hip, her belly, trailing a line of hot kisses up to her breasts, and she forgot about everything but him.

  Her hands found his shoulders. Her fingers pressed against his strong muscles. She lifted her head, grasped him and pulled, forcing him up from the floor. Finding his mouth with hers, she kissed him with everything she had in her, wanting to give him exactly what he’d given her. Wanting him to know pleasure like nothing he’d ever known.

  He groaned into her mouth as he rose over her. Her hands slid down to the waistband of his jeans while she flicked her tongue against his and sat upright. Finding the button, she popped it free then slipped her hands beneath the fabric and pushed it down his hips.

  He kissed her harder. One hand moved to the back of the chaise, the other slid into her hair to tip her head so he could kiss her deeper. As she worked the fabric down his rock hard thighs and past his knees, he moved closer, rested one leg on the seat of the chaise so she could tug the garment free and throw it on the ground, kissing her the whole time as if he couldn’t get enough.

  Need resurged within her as she drew her hands up the backs of his thighs, over the soft layer of hair on his legs, then around to his front. Licking into his mouth, she closed one hand around the base of his cock. He groaned again. His fingertips dug into her skull. Sliding her hand up the thick cylinder of flesh, she cuffed the end and squeezed. A bead of fluid slid from the tip, making her mouth water. With her thumb, she spread it over the sensitive underside of the head and drew her hand down and back up.

  He drew back from her mouth. Pulsed in her fist. “You make me weak,” he rasped. Letting go of the back of the chaise, he trailed the pad of his thumb along her wet, bottom lip. “I want to feel these lips around my cock.”

  “Oh yes...” She grew wet and hot and achy with his words. Her hand shifted up to his ass, and she pulled him closer, forcing him higher above her as she angled forward and drew his cock toward her.

  She breathed hot over his erection, watched it twitch. He trembled as she flicked her tongue against the tip and squeezed the base, teasing him with the lightest of touches.

  “More,” he growled, shifting closer. A vein pulsed in his neck. His face flushed with arousal. “Taste me. Suck me, Keia.”

  She groaned as she looked up at him. And when his hand drifted to the back of her head, she finally closed her mouth over his length and sucked.

  He groaned long and deep. Pushed forward with his hips until he breached her throat, then drew back. Licking the underside every time the tip passed over her tongue, Circe pleasured him with her mouth, wanting him to find the same release he’d given her, wanting to give him everything. He grew harder with every suck, with every lick, with every press and glide and retreat.

  “Yes, Keia.” His fingertips tightened in her hair. “Don’t stop.”

  She didn’t. Flicking faster with her tongue, she sucked deeper as his thrusts picked up speed. Her other hand found his balls and squeezed. She did it again and again, until she felt his cock begin to swell. And when she sensed he was on the edge, when she felt his climax about to peak, she drew him all the way in and swallowed around his sensitive head.

  His pleasure erupted into her mouth. A long, guttural groan echoed from his chest. His fingertips dug into her skull as he thrust once, twice, three more times and trembled.

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nbsp; She continued to work him with her mouth, swallowing every drop, bringing him down slowly. His hips angled back long seconds later, releasing him from her lips. Breathing deeply, she swiped the back of her hand over her mouth and looked up with a smile of satisfaction, of pride, of her own pleasure that she’d been able to give him what he’d given her.

  He moved quickly, sweeping his arms around her, lifting her from the chaise. Her smile morphed to a gasp. In a rush, he slid beneath her, and before she realized what was happening she was straddling his hips and his mouth was beneath hers, drawing her right back into a kiss that was so blisteringly hot, lust resurged within her.

  He tugged her down and devoured her mouth. His rock hard erection slid through her wetness, reminding her he was a Titan. He could go for days without growing soft if he wanted. A fact that now sent a shiver of excitement down her spine.

  “Take me,” he mouthed against her, lifting his hips until he pressed against her opening. “Ride me. Use me. Fuck me. Now.”

  She couldn’t say no because that was all she wanted now too. Grasping the back of the chaise, she lowered her weight. Her tongue swept into his mouth just as his cock pressed into her core. Groaning, she tightened around his length until he was seated so far inside they became one.

  “Oh, fuck, yes.” His hands landed against her hips. He used them to help her lift and lower. Flexed his hips so he drove in deeper. Against her mouth he groaned and kissed her again. Pleasure arced all through her body as she rode him, as their passions grew together, as he pressed into her with long, deep, blinding thrusts.

  A frenzied high the likes of which she’d never known hovered just out of her reach. She moved faster. Kissed him harder. Needed to reach it. Needed to drag him into the abyss with her. Needed everything. Sweat beaded her skin, melded with his. She groaned, lifted, lowered, trembled as he hit that perfect spot again and again. Pulling her mouth from his, she dropped her head back and gave herself over to the moment, to every touch, to the way it pushed her right to the edge.