Page 62 of Lost and Stolen Gods
A soft sound drifted into the room. A sound of distress?
“What is?—"
He pressed his finger to my lips and canted his head to listen.
The sound came again, louder, and more of a moan. Definitelynotdistress. And then another one joined it, masculine and rumbling, a low cadence of words that I couldn’t understand. A feminine gasp was followed by a series of yesses and then another moan.
The pulse between my thighs fluttered.
Araz’s gaze dropped to mine, then to his finger on my lips. He slowly pressed down, forcing my lips to part as he dragged his digit over them, then across my cheek, bringing his thumb up to replace it as he hugged my jaw with his hand.
I swallowed hard, and his throat bobbed in response.
The sounds grew frenzied—guttural grunts, the slap of flesh, and the splash of water and oh god. I was so fucking horny right now.
He ran his thumb back and forth across my lips, the callused tip, abrasive in a way that made me ache to taste it.
I licked it.
Oh fuck, I just licked him.
He stilled, as if he wasn’t quite sure what hadhappened, and something wicked and wanton stirred inside me.
I licked him again, slowly and deliberately this time, and a low growl vibrated his chest.
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice low and breathless.
“What areyoudoing?”
His eyes narrowed, boring into me before dropping to his thumb on my mouth. “Don’t do it again.”
“Then remove your thumb.”
He pressed down on my bottom lip. “I don’t take orders from you, little mortal.”
I grabbed his wrist and took his thumb in my mouth in a long dragging suck, and his ragged groan vibrated between us, flipping my stomach. His lava eyes flared, and the next moment his mouth had replaced his thumb. His hips crushed mine to the stone, his arousal a thick weight between us, branding me as he bent me back, devouring and claiming until I was drowning in his ravenous breath. He was under my skin, all over me, his scent in my lungs, his hands around my heart as he squeezed and squeezed.
He dragged his mouth free. “You want this.” He grabbed my hips and rolled his against mine, pushing his cock between my folds and thrusting to rub himself against me. “You want me to fuck you right now. To service your needs. Is that what you demand of me?”
His words freed me of the haze of desire that had gripped my mind and body.
“What? What do you—? No.” I shoved at his shoulders. “Stop.”
But he was bigger and stronger, and he had me pinned, the thick head of his cock nudging at my entrance that throbbed against the need racing through me even though my mind said no.
He fisted my hair and yanked my head back. “Youdon’twant this?”
He pushed against me, hissing in pleasure as he inched into me slightly. My eyes rolled back as my body clutched at him, wanting to draw him in, wanting to take this, all of him, no matter how fucking huge.
“You want more?” He inched farther.
“Ah…“ I panted. Yes, yes. “No… No! Stop.” The word was a wretched sob, and he released me immediately, backing into the water so he was hidden in mist.
“Get out,” he rasped. “Get out before I forget myself and take you regardless of your wishes.”
I hurried to the steps and climbed out on legs like jelly. I grabbed my clothes, not bothering to dress, just wanting to get away from here, from him and from the woman he was able to turn me into.
I made it to the arch leading out, and something made me look back. I caught sight of him as the mist parted, a lone figure standing waist deep in water, head in his hands—the picture of a man tormented.
