Page 47 of The NemeSis
“So am I. I’m hungry.” My gaze roams down her body and back up to her face. “Let me take you out for dinner and then we’ll go back to my place for the night.”
“I can’t stay the night.” She takes a step back before glancing back at the door. “I came to tell you we need to talk about us.”
“My favorite subject.” I grab her by the elbow and start to lead her out of my office. “We can discuss our future over dinner before going back home, then I can enjoy you for dessert.”
“Ares.” She pulls back. “We can’t.”
I grab her and haul her close. “Yes, we can. I told you the other night if you didn’t want anything to happen, to leave. I fucking warned you what would happen if you didn’t leave. You chose to stay, remember?”
She sighs. “Ares.”
Her eyes plead with mine, but I’m not giving her up. I never will. Even if I have to spend every day for the rest of our lives proving it. There isn’t a single doubt in my mind. Not that I’ve had her, I can’t exist in a world where she’s not mine.
* * *
The rain comes downheavy outside. I’m not sure if it is the storm that wakes me, or her.
I turn to my side and watch her in the dim lighting. The sheet has slipped down her body, pooling around her waist. Her soft curves and bare skin are out on display. She looks at peace, completely relaxed. As if she knows, in her sleep, she is safe here and belongs to me. Mine.
I breathe in the sweet smell that is utterly her and the hunger starts again. I feel it in my cock that throbs against her thigh. I’m fucking starving for her. I don’t want to wake her though, not when she looks like my own sleeping beauty.
Fuck.
The thought occurs to me, and I can’t help how obsessed with the idea I become. I’ve never been into having sex with someone who is asleep, but the idea of it makes me harder. I want to use her and fill her up while she’s asleep. Then cherish her and bring her to orgasm when she’s awake.
I slide my hand up her thigh, slowly so I don’t wake her. For now. She may not be awake to give me permission in this moment, but I’d warned her before, I would not give her up. My fingers brush between her legs to find her warm and slick. I swallow a groan. She shifts beneath me, a sleepy sigh escaping. I freeze, waiting to see if she wakes up. But she doesn’t. She nestles even closer, searching for me in her sleep.
I slide her leg to give myself more room, line myself up, and slowly sink into her. She whimpers in her sleep. It’s so soft, I barely hear it. Her breathing remains even. I stay still for a moment longer.
My thrusts are slow and even. Kyra stirs. I can feel her clench my cock. Her breathing becomes uneven, and I know she’s waking up.
It doesn’t matter.
She can fight it all she wants, but I know the truth.
I’d let the world fucking burn before I let her go.
Chapter Twenty-One
KYRA
The classroom slowly fills with my classmates. Students are chatting with one another as they make their way to their seats. There isn’t any assigned seating, but everyone tends to stick to their usual. Mine is the third row, slightly to the left of center. I got an earlier start to the day, so I’ve been sitting here for a few minutes, laptop open and editing my paper.
Professor O’Clery strolls in without a word and drops his leather bag by his desk. He moves to the giant chalkboard and picks up a piece of chalk. No greeting or small talk to the class, he just moves the chalk on the board and then takes a step back.
DELPHIA
He moves back to the board and underlines the word then turns to face us.
“Were the oracles the voice of gods… or were they just pulling the strings?”
No one says a word but the energy in the room shifts. It’s one of the things I love about this class. He grades on class participation and it’s too easy to participate when he starts a class like this.
“People traveled from all over to hear a woman tell them things they already suspected.” He walks up to the podium. “The question remains, was it really fate or were they just looking for permission?”
A few people murmur behind me, questioning where this is going. I stay focused, knowing he’s getting to something.
“Your final papers are due in two weeks.” His eyes scan across the room, flickering to everyone. “Are you a historian?” His gaze turns to me then continue to sweep across the room. “Your papers shouldn’t just be reporting what we can read about in other books. I expect you to take a stance and interpret the past like an oracle would. Speak in riddles if you have to.”
