Page 72 of Invoking Ruin

Better to cut her off now. It will hurt, but they’ll be small, tender wounds. If I stay with her, I’ll only open them wide and let her bleed out for me.

My mercy is technically more than she deserves.

She starts to pull away, but I tighten my arms around her, keeping her firmly in my lap. “Not so fast, little Ruin.”

“Why not? You want to be alone, that’s what you said, isn’t it?” She’s practically pouting, this goddess I haven’t kissed in thousands of years, not as myself. I want to bite that pout, suck on her lip until she’s moaning, begging.

“You’re ready to give up?” I goad. “After all you’ve done to get me here?”

She stills, glaring daggers at me now. I take her chin in my hand, bringing our gazes level.

“I’ll make you a deal, Ruin. You give that deadly knife to me, and I’ll advocate on your behalf. Strike your deal for you: the knife for your freedom. After that, you can go your way, and I’ll go mine.”

It’s a gamble. Atê isn’t going to let me go so easily, not after all she’s been through, but I’m hoping she values her freedom a little more than keeping me as her possession.

She growls, teeth bared as she squirms in my arms until I let her go. She only needs a little bit of room, and I grunt as she straddles me, pinning me down to the bench with her thighs, her arms around my neck.

“And what makes you think,” she asks, as she drags her pussy against my cock, and we both hiss, “I’d let you walk away from me?”

“I don’t see where you’d have a choice.” I place my hands on her hips, unable to help myself. She toyed with Sandro, alone, for months. Not to mention when I thought I was other mortal men, under names I don’t quite remember. Having her now is hard to resist.

I’ll have to learn to stay away. Keeping her isn’t an option.

She laughs. “You forget how long we’ve been playing this game, Dionysus.” Her nails rake along my scalp as she thrusts her fingers into my hair.

“Playing implies I ever wanted to be part of it.” I keep my voice cool, but my heartbeat quickens.

“Lie to yourself, if you wish, but if you’d wanted me to stop chasing you, this would have ended long ago.” She brings her face in close, her lips brushing along my cheek, and all I am is aware of her, of the brush of her wet hair on my shoulder, the warmth of her breath on my skin, the slickness of her cunt so close I could sink into her heat with just a little nudge.

When did Atê, of all goddesses, become so seductive?

“You could have gotten rid of me anytime you wished. You only had to run to your brothers,” she continues, “or your precious kingly father, who already hated me, and it would have ended. But you let me keep going. You let me watch you, let me chase you. Now that I finally have you, do you really want me to let you go?”

There’s no power in her words. She’s kept a tight leash on her manipulative force with me, except for a moment or two where it had broken loose.

“Do you think you’ve earned the right to keep me like one of your treasures, Atê? Like Pegasus, your loyal pet?” I nip her jaw, savoring the way she shivers, her neck arching, craving more.

She shakes her head, but I need her like this, distracted. “You have a little time now, but not forever. What will you do with it?”

“It’s not so final as all that. I’ll just hunt you down again, if you leave me.” She pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “You’re mine, Dionysus.”

Her dogged persistence nothing more than I expected. “I don’t belong to anyone. You understand that, I think, despite your claws digging in so deep.” I whisper into her neck, savoring the way she shivers, “Give me the knife, little Ruin. Let me take care of this much.”

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, and I growl. Enough of this. I’ll convince her later. Right now, I want to indulge. I want her purely for myself.

“We still have today,” I promise her.

I give in to the need to drag her in closer, and we both groan. Her acquiescence is more gasp than speech. It’s not much, but it’s enough.

Chapter seventeen

Atê

We make great use of the little time Dionysus offers me, first in the pool, and then out in the sunshine. It’s everything I dreamed about, every position, every fantasy made real.

I try to convince myself he’s actually insatiable with lust for me, and that his hunger isn’t some dream born of my own desperation. He can’t keep his hands off me, which feels real enough, but he’s a god of pleasure, of hedonism. For him, fucking all day is as simple as breathing, and there doesn’t need to be any deeper meaning in it.

But as he leaves me spent in the mess of the bed, I know I’ll never be the same.

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