Total pages in book: 169
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 161535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 808(@200wpm)___ 646(@250wpm)___ 538(@300wpm)
“I know.” We’ve looked out for each other this entire time. I watched his back when he was at his lowest, and now that he’s strong and back to himself, he’ll have mine.
He keeps a straight face. “Because you’re my Maiden of Medicine, remember?”
I scowl at him. “Can we not?”
He puts his hands up in the air, all innocence. “I didn’t start it. I’m just going with what the people have decided.”
Please. As tired as I am, I can’t help but laugh. This entire situation is just the most ridiculous. I rub a hand down my face again, and it’s like all my energy has disappeared. Maybe Kalos needs to pull more energy than before to remain in the mortal realm after he’s triumphed. If that’s the case, exhausted might be my new normal.
Better than dead, though.
Kalos curls a finger in my hair. “When did you want to go see the goddess, love?”
Even though it’s childish, I groan. The last thing I want right now is to sit next to a goddess and feel inadequate. “Can’t we make her stew until morning? I’m wiped.”
“We can absolutely make her wait on us.” He grins, flashing teeth. “It’ll make her crazy.”
“Good. I want to crawl back into bed, preferably with you.” I tug on the front of his shirt and notice that it’s brand new and very fancy. “When did this happen?”
“My clothes? The locals have been very generous. They insisted on giving me whatever I wanted.” He shrugs. “They’re going to build a temple for me here. I told them not to bother but it pissed off Belara, so I changed my mind and said I loved the idea.”
“You look very handsome,” I tell him, smiling. He’s had a bath, and his tousled hair feathers beautifully across his brow. It manages to look casual and deliberate at the same time. “Ten out of ten.”
His brows go up. “Didn’t like me better with long hair? I can probably change it back if you like.”
My mouth puckers with distaste at the thought. I reach up and give his shorter hair a ruffle. “Makes me think of the other Kalos. I like you like this. He didn’t feel like you.”
“Whatever pleases you. As a god, I have no official form. But I will remain in this one because I like the way you look at me.”
“And how do I look at you?”
“Like you want me to drag you to bed and kiss you all over.”
I’m suddenly breathless at the thought. “Yes, please. Let’s do that. Fuck Belara.”
“I’d rather fuck you.”
“Okay, that’s a better idea.” I wind my arms around his neck, and when he leans in to kiss me, I melt against him. He doesn’t feel as feverishly hot as he used to. His skin against mine is welcome, inviting, delicious. With a happy sigh, I hike one leg to his hips. He grabs my ass and hefts me into his arms, carrying me the short distance back to the bed.
He pulls my shoes off, tossing them over his shoulder. “Want me to undress you?”
“And here I just got dressed. Such a waste of new clothes.” I tug at the lace between my breasts.
“I don’t mind if you don’t.” Kalos leans in and tugs at the laces with his teeth. “You smell …smell good.”
“Probably because I don’t smell like goat or three days of road travel.”
“I don’t mind you smelling like goat.” The dress falls open, revealing my breasts, and Kalos buries his face in my cleavage.
“Just the road travel?” I chuckle. My head gives another painful throb, but then Kalos is kissing over my collarbones, and the headache smooths away as quickly as it appeared. “I wonder if this means we can stop for a while.”
“We can. We can even go get the goat, if you like?”
“And I can finish my book,” I say dreamily, arching as he tugs the laces open even further. The front of the dress falls to the side, my nipples pointing at the air.
He mouths one tip, rolling it with the tip of his tongue before giving it a playful, soft bite. “Beautiful breasts. Lovely tits. How can I look away from such perfection?”
I’m noticing that he speaks more freely when he poses things as a question, instead of a statement. Because he’s got Lies fighting to make its presence known, he pauses a lot of the time, as if forcing himself to speak around his compulsion to lie. But when he says things like this, I don’t care if he asks it as a rhetorical question or not.
The reverence on his face tells me how he feels.
I touch him as he runs his lips over my torso, playing with his hair and stroking the shell of his ear. He’s still fully dressed, and I want to caress his skin the way he’s caressing mine, but I’m so tired that it’s nice to just be passively loved on for a while. It’s ironic that our roles have reversed a bit, and it makes me wonder. “How’s your apathy, Kalos? Do you feel different now?”