Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
She hums with pleasure at my pleasure, but she doesn’t immediately zero in on making me orgasm. She dips down and thrusts her tongue into my pussy as if trying to claim every bit of me, to imprint my very taste. Her fingers dig into my thighs, a perfect point of near-pain to ground me against the pleasure she pulls forth.
When she lifts her head, I can’t stop a whimper of protest. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” she murmurs. I look down my body to find her expression damn near rapturous, proof that she’s just as lost in this moment as I am. She licks her lips, her lower face shiny from my pleasure. “Come for me. Ride my mouth and take what you deserve.”
It’s as if her words weave a spell around me. The few thoughts I have left in my head dissolve like mist on a warm day, my body taking over entirely. I lace my fingers through her short hair and lift my hips, guiding her mouth back to my pussy. There may have been a distant part of me that wanted this to last forever, but it’s quickly drowned out by pure greed.
Make me feel good. Do it. Do it now.
Circe obeys my unspoken commands, holding my thighs wide as she works my clit in exactly the way I need to go nuclear. It’s too much and not enough, and I suddenly want to slow down, but she’s stronger than she looks, and my hands haven’t gotten the memo, holding her to me even as I unravel. I cry out as I come, every muscle in my body locking almost painfully. I want to blame the intensity on it being so long since I’ve slept with someone, but it’s not the truth. It’s never been like this before. Godsdamn it.
While I’m still recovering, she moves up to stretch out against my side. She doesn’t stop touching me, her clever fingers tracing patterns on my skin, palming my breasts, sliding over my hip. I drag in a breath and roll to face her. I start to say… Nothing. Nothing at all. There are no words needed in this moment, and anything I say about the future will ruin the strange spell we’ve created in the now. Better to ride this out to its inevitable conclusion and deal with the fallout at that time.
I press her onto her back and palm her pussy. “My turn.”
24
Hecate
Even if Demeter hadn’t texted me a heads-up that Circe was moving the trials to a location near Cypress Bridge, I would have figured it out. I just needed to follow the crowds of people streaming down the streets with determined looks on their face.
Olympus has fallen.
I knew that—of course I knew that—but there’s something about leaving the city proper for a couple days and returning to find it unrecognizable that truly drives the point home. It’s not happening how I wanted, but it is happening.
Strange to realize maybe I don’t actually have the stomach for revolution.
I perch on the rooftop of a building a few blocks from where I shot Hera and Persephone during their little meeting only a short time ago. So much has changed since then. Nothing has changed.
Below me, the crowd murmurs as more and more people stream in, packing in tighter and tighter. If something goes wrong, people will die from being trampled. I don’t know if that’s a feature or a bug in Circe’s plan. Even if I asked, I don’t think she’d tell me. And Atalanta? She isn’t taking my calls, every single one going to voicemail over the last twelve hours.
I’ve never felt more alone.
I shiver and pull my hood up. The wind is vicious up here, and I’m just superstitious enough to see it as a sign of things to come. Demeter is certain she can turn the tide in her favor. If anyone can do it, she can, but I’m so fucking afraid we’re underestimating Circe. Again.
I begin to set up my rifle. It feels like busywork, like a fool’s errand. I already know I won’t shoot Circe. If I were capable of killing her, things would be so much simpler, but it would be like putting a bullet into my own heart, no matter how rotted and poisonous.
My phone buzzes gently against my hip, and I put my earbuds in and go back to my rifle. “Yeah?”
“Hey.”
I stop short. “Atalanta.”
“Where are you?” She sounds tired and…guilty. We may not have spent as much time together as I’d like over the last decade, but I’ve spent considerable time attuning myself to her moods, steady as they are, and this has alarm bells ringing. Especially considering how our last call ended.
I still, suspicion blooming. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Instead of doing that, she laughs bitterly. “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander and all that.”