Page 29 of Flame and Fury

I’m not prepared. I thought I’d get a lecture about the greater good, blah, blah, blah.

The hand on my back presses me closer. Something fractures inside my chest, and I press my nose in the crook of his neck. It shouldn’t be this natural to be in his arms when we’re talking about how he betrayed my trust. I’d be a fool to lower my guard around him again. He’s made it clear that the Underground is his priority, and he’s willing to risk my safety. The annoying part is that I get it. I understand why. It doesn’t make it suck any less.

“I won’t let you get hurt.”

“You can’t promise that.” I shake my head. Angry all over again. Every day growing up I was reminded that I was different. That there were parts of myself I had to hide away. Not because I should be ashamed of what I am, but because I could be killed if someone else found out.

My free hand drifts up to the snake charm I never remove. The magic in this charm keeps my Fury power hidden from the gods. It had been my mother’s necklace. After she was killed in the games, they’d returned it to my father along with her wedding ring in a manilla envelope. Ironic that the clerics held the key to keeping my secret and put it back in my hands.

Wearing it has always been an honor, a connection to my mother, but right now it feels heavy around my neck. The weight of responsibility that Atlas and Kat heaped onto my shoulders is immense. And there’s something I haven’t shared with Atlas yet, that is going to throw a wrench into the situation.

I swallow thickly, dreading telling Atlas this piece of information, but knowing I need to. “Here’s the thing. I don’t technically know how to put the gods to sleep.”

Atlas inhales a sharp breath, his chest freezing beneath my hand. The soft ping of ice hitting the window only makes his silence louder. The thump of his heartbeat pulses beneath my fingers and when he finally exhales, I feel that too.

“We’ll figure it out.” He squeezes me closer to him, the warmth of his body soaking into mine. “Get some sleep. We can talk in the morning.”

CHAPTER17

ATLAS

Heat radiates against my side. There’s a weight draped over my torso and my hands are on something soft and round. The body wriggles against me, brushing against my already hard dick.

Fuck.

I squeeze my hands, kneading the perfect ass in my hold. A soft moan and a wash of warm breath over my neck has me pulling the body tighter to mine. I’m more asleep than awake, but I know exactly whose legs are straddling me. She might be on top of me, but my arms are wrapped around her like a boa constrictor desperate not to lose his prey.

Wren shifts her hips, grinding down on my cock in the process. I don’t even think she’s trying to be sexual, but she might as well be riding me for all the difference it would make. I groan into her hair and tighten my hold on her ass.

“Which of your personalities am I going to wake up with today?” Wren rasps into my neck, her lips ghosting over my skin and driving me wild.

“Why are you squirming?” My voice is gravelly with sleep but there’s something languid about waking up in bed with Wren. Despite how badly I want to shove our pants down and fuck her.

“Well, I woke up with a crazy man wrapped around me. I was trying to escape before he stabbed me.”

This woman. No one makes me laugh like she does. I chuckle softly, and Wren hums with a soft sound of pleasure. “I'm pretty sure I've got something I can impale you on.”

She groans loudly, managing to rock against me in the process.

“We've already tried that, and it didn't work out so well for me in the end. I'm going to have to pass.” Wren’s saying one thing, but her body is painting a very different picture. She has one hand in my hair and the other snuck under my sweatshirt and resting on my chest. Her hips shift again, and I hold her in place.

“If you don’t want to get fucked, you have to stop moving.” I open my eyes. Dim light filters in through the small window, but Wren’s so buried in the covers all I can see is the top of her head.

Her breasts are pressed against my chest. Short, quick breaths paint my neck. The weight of the blankets on top of us is suddenly too much. The heat from our bodies is enough to warm the entire city of Las Vegas. Wren lifts her head and looks down at me. Her hair is a disaster, her dark blue eyes sleepy, and there’s a red mark on her cheek where it was resting on my shoulder.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She stares at me like I’ve been body snatched, her breath coming out on a ragged exhale. I reluctantly let go of her ass so I can cradle her face. She angles her head into the touch, her eyelids going half-mast.

“I’m still dreaming, right?”

“You dream about me, little bird?” I brush my thumb over her cheek. “Because no dream is going to feel as good as the real thing.”

She lifts her head to glare at me but then she sucks her bottom lip between her teeth. “Fuck it,” she groans, and then lowers her mouth to mine.

I think I might die. Wren and I have kissed a few times, but this is the first time she’s initiated. Our first kiss was under the lust magic of Aphrodite–fucking bitch. Then I kissed her in the back of the car before I took her to meet Kat, but Wren didn’t know that I was lying to her. It felt desperate and wrong. I was trying to hold on to something that I knew was slipping through my fingers. This time all my cards are on the table.

The kiss starts as the sleepy, drugging kind, an endless dance of lips and tongue. That lasts about as long as it takes for Wren to start rubbing all over my dick. I rock my hips and she moans into my mouth. I want to rip her clothes off but hold on to a fraction of restraint. Dragging my hands down her back, I squeeze her hips before sneaking a hand under her sweatshirt. I palm her breast and brush my thumb over the pebbled nipple.

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