“Because I learned to master control long ago.”
She raised her right thigh, slid it up over his hip so his erection sank in the vee of her body until he felt the heat of her sex through the denim and cloth separating their skin. Her hands roamed up his chest to rest against his pecs and squeeze ever so gently. Ripples of sensation flowed from that spot, through his abdomen and lower. “I saw your control in my apartment, daemon. Something tells me you don’t have quite the control you think you do.”
When she pressed her hips forward and his cock rubbed against the cleft between her legs, he knew she was right. If he wasn’t careful, he’d explode long before she even warmed up.
He glanced down at her chest, at her luscious breasts lifting and falling beneath her thin black shirt. Thankfully, she’d taken off the breastplate and arm guards in their stateroom, but he liked the fact she was still wearing those stripper boots. He wouldn’t mind if she wore those and nothing else as she wrapped her legs around his waist and screamed his name.
“So, what do you say, daemon?” She pressed forward, stroked his erection with the heat between her legs. “Why don’t we make the bet a little more interesting?”
He was vaguely aware their power positions had reversed, that she was trained thoroughly in the art of seduction and knew how to strip a male of every thought so she could get what she wanted, but this wasn’t about him. It was about her. And giving her a little of the lust-drenched mind she’d drugged him with the last few days.
He pressed his cock against her heat, rubbed until she sucked in a breath. Yeah, she was wet. He could feel it. “What do you have in mind?”
She pressed back. “Let’s say if you come first, you walk away from Maelea and leave the poor girl alone.”
His hips stilled. He focused on her determined yet very aroused eyes. Eyes that set off a tremor of déjà vu deep in his chest. “Why would a Siren care about someone like Maelea?”
“I don’t.”
For a second he thought she was lying, then he realized she wasn’t. “So this little bet is a way to make sure I don’t use her to get what I want.” When she didn’t answer that thought, another crept into his mind. “Which prompts the question, why would a Siren try to stop her mark? There’s something you’re not telling me.”
She focused on his shoulder. And in her silence he knew she didn’t have an answer. At least not one she could voice. But it was there, hiding behind her familiar and entrancing eyes. An answer that explained what their connection was and why she was all he’d been able to think about since the moment they’d met. Even to the detriment of his one clear goal.
The door at the end of the hall creaked open. Skyla’s head darted that way and her hands pressed hard against his chest, pushing him away from her succulent body.
Another steward came down the corridor toward them, a tray in his hands. He stopped when he caught sight of them, looked from face to face. Understanding dawned in his eyes just before he coughed and a rush of pink spread up his cheeks. “Um. Sorry. I just need to get through.”
Orpheus stepped back against the opposite wall to make room, but he knew his irritation reflected in his eyes. Only…they didn’t flash green the way they normally did when he was irritated.
The man ducked his head and was out the opposite door in a flash.
Skyla stepped away and cleared her throat. “I need some air.”
“Hold on.” He reached for her but wasn’t quick enough to grasp her.
“Thanks, but no. I think we both need a good shot of distance right now. I know I sure do.”
She disappeared out the door before he could think of a reason to make her stay. For a brief moment he considered following, then remembered Maelea in the stateroom. He couldn’t leave Ghoul Girl alone. She was waiting for the first opportunity to run, and contrary to what Skyla thought, he didn’t intend to harm the waif. But he would use her to get what he wanted.
And what he wanted…It was time he remembered his goal and stopped screwing around with the Siren who’d obviously been sent here to get rid of him. She was a distraction he didn’t need. And though he didn’t know why, he had the strangest feeling that being close to her was messing with his daemon.
She was right. They did need distance. Distance so he could call back that part of him he both hated and needed at the same time. Once they got to the half-breed colony, he’d ditch her ass. Because without his daemon…he’d never get what he wanted most.
***
There were benefits to being the Lord of the Underworld. Chief among those benefits was that souls weren’t just scared of you, they cowered. And though Hades ruled Hell in all its glory, everything that happened within his domain eventually found its way back to his ears, no matter how secret.