Page 10 of Summoning Mr. Wrong
I wasn’t sure where the courage came from—the wine, probably, or the lingering magic of the tattoos—but once thechallenge was issued, I couldn’t take it back. Didn’t want to take it back.
Deus’s smile was slow and dangerous. “Are you sure about that? Once I start showing you how it’s done, there’s no going back to fumbling humans who don’t know what they’re doing.”
“Maybe I’m tired of fumbling humans,” I said, pulse racing.
In one smooth motion, Deus moved closer, his hand coming up to cup my face. “Lesson one,” he murmured, “is patience.”
His thumb traced my lower lip, a whisper of contact that sent shivers down my spine. He was so close now that I could see the subtle patterns in his irises, concentric circles of amber and gold.
“Most humans rush,” he continued, his voice hypnotic. “They go straight for the obvious places, neglecting all the others that can bring just as much pleasure.”
His fingers trailed down my jaw to my neck, finding a pulse point I didn’t even know was sensitive. I couldn’t help the small gasp that escaped me.
“Like here,” he said with satisfaction. “The carotid artery. Blood so close to the surface you can almost taste it.” His lips replaced his fingers, not quite kissing, just hovering over my skin. “I can feel your heartbeat speeding up. Are you nervous, Julian?”
“Yes,” I admitted, seeing no point in lying to a being who could probably sense my emotions.
“Good. Anticipation is half the pleasure.” His breath was hot against my neck. “What do you want me to do next?”
Everything. Anything. Just touch me properly.
“Kiss me,” I managed to say.
Deus pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine. “Are you asking or telling?”
I swallowed hard, understanding the question beneath the question. “Telling.”
His smile was wicked and approving. “Better.”
When his lips finally met mine, it wasn’t the aggressive claiming I expected. Instead, it was devastatingly gentle, a careful exploration that made my toes curl. He tasted like wine and something else, something ancient and spicy that I couldn’t identify.
I made a frustrated noise against his mouth, wanting more, and felt him smile.
“Patience,” he reminded me, pulling back just enough to speak. “We have all night.”
“Some of us aren’t immortal,” I grumbled, trying to pull him back.
Deus laughed, the sound vibrating through me where our chests were pressed together. “Trust me, it’s worth the wait.”
His hands began a slow journey down my sides, mapping my body through my t-shirt with deliberate care. When they reached the hem, they slipped underneath, hot against my bare skin.
“You’re always so cold,” he observed, his palms sliding up my ribs. “Is that why you wear so many layers?”
“Poor circulation,” I gasped as his thumbs brushed my nipples. “And a shitty heating system.”
“I can help with that.” He demonstrated by pressing closer, his supernatural heat enveloping me like a blanket.
My head fell back against the couch cushions as he continued his careful exploration, each touch precise and calculated for maximum effect. It was like he had a map of every sensitive spot on my body, places I didn’t even know could feel good.
“How are you so good at this?” I asked breathlessly as he found a particularly responsive spot just below my ear.
“Centuries of practice,” he murmured against my skin. “And I can sense what you like. Your body temperature rises, your pupils dilate, your breath catches…” His hand moved lower,skating along the waistband of my sweatpants. “And other, more obvious signs.”
I was embarrassingly hard already, just from kissing and light touches. But Deus didn’t seem to be in any hurry to move things along. He continued his methodical exploration, occasionally returning to my mouth for kisses that grew progressively deeper and more intense.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, tugging at my t-shirt.
I nodded eagerly, lifting my arms to help. The cool air of the apartment hit my heated skin, making me shiver. Or maybe it was the way Deus was looking at me, like I was something delicious he couldn’t wait to devour.
