Page 57 of Scion of Chaos

“I knew you could do it,” I say.

“It was just a matter of wanting it enough, I guess.” She gives me a coy smile as she unwraps the cloth from around my hips and pushes it off into the water. My cock stiffens further, and her eyes widen as it grows to full hardness between us, the ache in my balls growing too.

Ever since last night, I’ve endured the growing intensity of my need for her. I’m not as impulsive as Pan to go off to an inconvenient corner of the prison and manage my own pleasure, plus I’d hoped that time alone with her would lead to this moment. But I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little desperate for release right about now.

“Holy wow,” she mutters. “You’re … beautiful.” She’s staring at my cock, and for a moment I’m sure I see shock in her eyes, but she recovers quickly. When she sees my frown, she shakes her head. “I don’t know why I expected you to look human everywhere else because you aren’t, are you?”

“I was sired by a bull, but my mother was sired by a Titan. I can’t attribute the shape to either side, though. You can look, I don’t mind.”

Her cheeks flush when she drops her gaze to my throbbing cock again, her eyes wide with fascination. It should feel discomfiting to have a woman staring with such open wonder at such a private part of me, but it only arouses me further. I want to invite her to touch me, to run her hand over my length, to trace the groove that runs the underside, and the ridge along the top. My tapered shape will make it easier for her to take me a little at a time, allow me to fuck her even deeper once she’s ready.

She finally tears her eyes away and looks up at me. She rises to her feet on the ledge so our height difference lessens, then holds her arms out perpendicular to her sides. “Your turn.”

It takes only a tiny tug for me to divest her of the bed sheet. I take her in, nostrils flaring at the sight of her curves bared for me to see. Her tattoo clings to her protectively, and I reach out and gently stroke the head of the octopus on her ribcage, as if to assure the creature I mean her no harm. Nemea shudders, then relaxes. The tattoo relaxes too, though it remains aware, its eyes peering from her ribcage, watchful.

She dips and picks up the bottle of soap. “May I?” she asks, gesturing to me.

I regain my senses and clear my throat. “No. We came down here for your bath, not mine. I should finish what I started.” I look up to the ceiling, mentally envisioning what I need. As always, Tartarus responds. A narrow column of void glass descends from the ceiling high above, spreading out in a disc over our heads. A second later, tiny holes appear and heated water streams out over us both.

Nemea lets out a soft gasp and stares up. “Was that there before?”

“Nope. It appeared at my command. I told you, Tartarus anticipates our needs.”

She sighs and tilts her face up to the shower, her body relaxing even more. With a small mental nudge from me, the water ebbs. I pour some soap into my palm, lathering it between my hands.

“Hey,” Nemea says, frowning up at the ceiling when the shower fades to nothing.

“It’ll return when it’s time to rinse,” I tell her. I rest my soapy hands atop her shoulders first, then slide them down over her arms and back up to spread the suds. She stares wide-eyed at me, her wonder from the first time we came face to face returning. Her gaze slides over my horns and down my face. I feared she’d be frightened of me when I walked into her room this morning, so I made every effort to avoid seeming too intimidating. It seems I shouldn’t have worried after all.

She lets out a sigh when I dig my fingertips into her muscles, massaging her shoulders, then her biceps. I work the lather into each of her hands with as much diligence as I washed her feet. Her breasts and the rest of her torso beckon, still soap-free and glistening with water. My mouth waters as I imagine the taste and texture of her on my tongue. Erebus refused to share a single detail of his experience last night—having his tongue inside her, then having her mouth wrapped around his cock. All he would say was that she didn’t disappoint.

She grows more pliant when I slide my hands down her sides and step closer, peering down at her. She cranes her head back, lips parting, and the column of her throat ripples with a swallow.

“I’d like to wash your intimate parts now,” I say, my voice a deeper growl than I intend. A shiver cascades through her beneath my hands where they rest on her hips.

“I’d like that,” she breathes with a nod.

Bending, I reach for the soap again, along with a soft cloth which I dip into the water. While I do, the shower comes to life, rinsing away the soap and wetting her skin. I drape the cloth over my shoulder for now and lather up a second time, then cup both her full, beautiful breasts in my hands. I leave the shower on, enjoying the way her skin grows slick under my touch.

She lets her head fall back and sighs when I rub the soap in, massaging gently with my palms. Then I cup both breasts again and swipe my thumbs over her hard nipples. She lets out a moan that echoes through the cavern.

Deep below, I sense a shift. Typhon is rousing, but Nemea doesn’t seem aware of the change. I send him a mental warning to take his time. She hasn’t run screaming from any of us yet, and Erebus even showed her his true form, but Typhon is not like the rest of us.

I lift her breasts and rub her nipples again, enjoying the way her body quivers. She opens her eyes, looking up at me from beneath half-lowered lids. Her dark lashes are wet and her irises glow even brighter now.

“Do you feel the power inside you, Nemea? Because I can see it coming to the surface. It’s beautiful.”

She looks drunk from my touch, which makes me want her even more, but then she opens her eyes a little wider, her brows drawing together. “What do you mean?”

“It’s in your blood.” I lift one of her hands and turn her palm up, then trace the line of a vein in her forearm from wrist to elbow that pulses with the subtlest glow beneath her skin.

She stares down at her arm in disbelief, then smiles up at me. “Why is it happening now? Is it you? Are you doing it?”

“Not directly. You’ve used your power before, though. What do you remember about the times it manifested?”

I crouch and begin soaping her legs from the knees up, waiting for her to answer.

“There was literally nothing before the ritual.” She looks down at me and adds, “The one that summoned Pan to me. Then …” Her eyes widen. “Oh, fuck. That was me. I’m the reason the cabin was destroyed.”

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