He had her turned before she could make another move. He ripped off his coat and threw it down before one of the benches edging the pool.
“Kneel,” he said, and his voice was a guttural rasp that made him wince.
She obeyed, though, as if sacrificing herself to some ancient monster. “Like this?” And the look she gave him over her shoulder was enough to make him swallow hard.
“Exactly like that,” he said, kneeling behind her. He pulled up her skirts reverently, as though he unveiled a work of art, seeing first the gleam of her white stockings in the moonlight, then the silver of her thighs.
Then the rounded mounds of her arse. Her delightfully carnal arse, curved and sweet, that secret darkness between. If he died right now, he’d dream for all eternity of Lily’s arse and be happy.
He laid her skirts over her back and ran his fingertips over her buttocks, watching as she shivered.
“Spread your legs for me,” he ordered.
She shifted, revealing more of herself, though the darkness kept her tantalizingly modest.
He ran his finger down the dip between her cheeks, slowly, until he encountered her moisture.
“Apollo,” she whispered, wiggling just a little.
“Do you like that?” His words were nearly slurred as if he were drunk on her feminine scent.
“You know I do,” she said, bending farther. She put her head in her arms on the stone bench, jutting out her hips farther, as if she were presenting herself, a mare to be mounted.
God, he wanted her.
He took his cock in hand and crawled closer, close enough that he could run his cockhead through her weeping slit.
She moaned and arched her back, forcing herself against him.
He couldn’t think. Could only feel—and want. He shoved his prick into position, placing his palm on the small of her back to hold her still. He didn’t want to hurt her—and if he moved too fast he was liable to spill.
He eased into her tight, hot passage, throwing his head back, staring blindly at the starlit cosmos. She was so wet for him, so slick and beautiful, that tears gathered at the corners of his eyes even as he thrust and thrust again. He pushed into that sweet tunnel, uniting them, making them one, until his flesh and her flesh merged.
And then he separated them again, drawing entirely out, just so he could feel again the wonderful pleasure of joining.
She whimpered, her face against her arms, and he bent over her, his woman, his Lily, surrounding, protecting, claiming her as his. “What do you want, love?”
“Th… that.”
He licked the bared nape of her neck. “Tell me.”
“I want you,” she whispered. “I want your cock in me. I want you to fill me and stuff me full until I can’t talk or remember my own name.”
He lost all control at her words. He reared, withdrawing and slamming back into her, the man entirely subsumed in the animal. All he was, all he could feel was his cock conquering her pussy, making her his mate for now, forever.
He bowed over her and bit into the back of her neck, holding her hips still so that he could plow into her over and over again until he felt her shudder under him, contracting around him. She moaned, low and lost, as she came, and he knelt up then, never stopping, never slowing, pounding as she trembled beneath him until he threw back his head and roared his own release into the night.
The stars whirled above them as he slowly sank back over her, panting, wondering if he’d ever again regain his humanity.
Or if he’d lost it forever to this woman.
Chapter Seventeen
Now, though a bull’s visage may be wild and beastly, its eyes are quite beautiful. Ariadne saw a soft brown eye, large and liquid, surrounded by thick lashes and filled with pain. In that moment she forgot fear of the monster and felt only pity. Instead of fleeing, she knelt by his side and began to bind his wounds, and as she did, she wondered what had become of Theseus, for surely it was he who had hurt the monster…
—From The Minotaur
Lily woke late the next morning with a feeling of both elation and dread. Elation because she would see Apollo again. She knew now that their liaison would by necessity be short. Soon she’d have to go back to her own life and he to his—wherever that was. Aristocrats and average persons could not permanently join—at least not happily. Their worlds were too different, the imbalance of power between highborn and low simply too great. Even if he cared for her in some way, Apollo would have to wed a lady of his own rank one day. Lily hadn’t the heart to be a mistress. But knowing that their time together was finite made it all the sweeter. She vowed to enjoy every minute left to her.