Page 21 of Dancing with Daggers

"Fuck, Zia. Good to know murder turns you on," he said and pulled on her hips, slamming her down the rest of the way.

"Yeah, and I'm not the only one," Zia panted against his lips.

"Never claimed otherwise."

Zia grabbed his hands and pinned them to the cupboards above his head.

Zia began to ride him, holding his hands tight, her tits bouncing with every hard grind of her hips. She nipped and sucked her way down his neck, tasting salt and blood and Ares.

"Bite me," he whimpered. Zia licked over the junction of his shoulder and neck and sank her fangs in deep. Hot blood rushed down her throat, and her orgasm had her body seizing.

Ares took over, thrusting upward to meet her and sending them both over the edge. Zia pulled her mouth free of him, and let his arms go. She was covered in blood and come and couldn't have cared less. She rested her face against his neck, unable to move as she tried to catch her breath. Ares's strong arms came around her.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"You're welcome." Ares's pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and her heart squeezed. "If you clean up and come over, I'll make you dinner as repayment for fixing my knife wound."

"How did you know I haven't already eaten? I just took a good bite out of you," she said, just as her stomach groaned.

Ares's smile was lightning quick. "I rest my case. Ten minutes, my apartment, clothes optional."

Zia knew she shouldn't, but she still kissed him. "You better be a good cook."

15

Ares was already cooking by the time Zia walked into his apartment. He knew she would be hit with the shock of Paulo's death soon, and he didn't want her to have to deal with it by herself. Fucking his brains out on her kitchen floor was an adrenaline response. He wasn't about to complain.

Wanting to cook for her, though, was a surprise even to himself. Ares had never invited someone inside his apartment before and wasn't sure how to act.

It's not like she hasn't already been through all your stuff.

Ares was still finding things that she had moved and touched. It had gone from infuriating to mind-boggling at just how much chaos one girl could cause in such a short period of time. He was quickly learning never to underestimate Zia.

Dressed in black tights and a loose T-shirt, her hair over one shoulder, Zia didn't look like the same woman who had fucked him in her enemy's blood. There were layers to her that he desperately wanted to unravel.

"What's cooking, good-looking?" she asked, climbing up onto one of the chairs at the kitchen island.

"Steak. I thought you might need the extra iron after healing me tonight," Ares said and touched the fresh scar on his chest. He had put on loose black pajama pants but had forgone the T-shirt. It was not like she hadn't seen everything already.

"Medium rare for me." Zia smiled as he poured her a glass of red wine. "I'm surprised that you're cooking at all. I thought you would just ring the chef."

"You know how fond my siblings are of poison. I prefer to know exactly what I'm putting into my body. At least until Corven chooses an heir," Ares replied and tossed the green beans he was frying with garlic. Ares didn't date. He didn't know if what they were currently doing even counted as one."So what do normal people talk about in this kind of situation?"

"Fuck if I know." Zia shrugged, making him smile. "I want to know how you found Paulo, the shithead. I've tried over the years."

"I have a very good private investigator. He has an excellent network of people that he can get information from. He found Paulo hiding out in one of the human districts." Ares didn't want her to dwell on that piece of shit, so he changed the subject. "I never did ask how you managed to find out Erik's dirty little secrets."

Zia put down her wine. "How do you think? I used the party as an excuse to get into his house, and then I checked behind the locked doors. He was a bit unimaginative in his hiding places."

"Breaking and entering. Old school. I like it," Ares said and turned the steaks.

"How are you feeling? That knife wound was pretty bad," Zia asked. She looked him over, a small smirk lifting at the corners of her mouth. "You'll have to get your tattoos fixed. Can I ask what they mean?"

Ares gestured at the bundled collage of tattoos of his own design. "Each symbol represents all my misdeeds, my sins."

"You know I heard there is a Sin Eater in the city. Maybe you should look into that and get them off your chest," she suggested, her eyes lingering on the ink.

Ares shook his head. "No, they are my sins to carry, and I will until I die. If nothing else, it keeps the fae tattooist I hire in business."

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