Page 40 of Heir of the Beast

I gaze up into his graveyard eyes, and my tummy starts doing backflips. Apollo tilts his head at me as his eyes search my face. “How are you?” he says in a soft and very sexy way.

His voice is like melted chocolate—the hottest thing I have ever heard.

“That good?” he grins.

I shake my head and glance away. “I am doing much better, thank you.”

“Good,” he says, before he yanks me into a room and shuts the door. I can’t move or talk when he puts both his muscled arms on either side of me.

He stares at me for a second, then smiles again like he is genuinely happy to see me. “You smell nice.” He winks. Trust me, he smells better.

This boyish side of him is going to be my undoing.

I blush and look down. “Yes, I’m sure my fragrance is much better now than the last time you saw me.”

He makes a sound. “Trying to pinpoint you in this getup is exhausting. You all look the same,” he huffs, then rips off my hat, making me yelp. My black hair falls down my back, and our eyes clash.

Has he been looking for me then? My cheeks heat.

The air changes and the boyish light in his gaze turns into something primal. No one should trust a gaze that dark, and I can almost feel its intensity.

His eyes lower to my lips then back up. His chest is rising and falling, and his jaw is flexed like he is trying to hold back.

“What are you thinking?” I whisper, almost feeling scared.

“You don’t want to know, Angel,” he rasps, and lowers his head to my neck. I quickly inhale from the shock as I feel his hot lips move over my skin.

~Mercy!~

My eyes close, and my head falls back, unable to process what’s happening. Is he sick in the head?!

He must take that as a green light because in the next second, he picks me up and is pressing me harder into the door, hungrily kissing my neck and jawline.

I moan and wrap my arms around his neck, wanting more of everything. I arch into him, feeling a massive surge of raw desire. This is insane and unexpected.

The crush of his lips over mine makes the pulse in my neck jump as if electrocuted.

The delicious feel of his mouth , as it moves over my lips, makes my head spin. His lips are hot and aggressive, taking every breath that I have.

“Open,” he rasps into my mouth.

I open, and his tongue thrusts into mine, Apollo is taking over this kiss forcefully. He is drinking me and sucking my lips like a starved man in search of water.

I barely have time to breathe as his mouth devours mine. I feel his hand in my hair, pushing my head closer to his assault, his tongue plunging into my mouth repeatedly.

I have never in my life been kissed like this—with so much lust and passion, heated fever.

I gasp as I feel him yank my head back by my hair, and his mouth trails hot kisses down my neck. I feel his teeth like he wants to bite me. Then I hear him curse, not wanting to rip my conservative gown.

I can feel the urgency, impatience, irritation. There is something wild in him that thrills me beyond measure. He lifts me higher and starts kissing me through my clothing.

His hand grips my breast through the material, making my toes tingle, and a hiss escapes my lips. This is getting out of hand in a hurry.

I cannot even see straight at this point. My brain can’t even compute what is happening to me. Apollo is whispering things that I can’t make out over our rushed breathing.

Then his mouth closes over my nipple, and I can feel the heat of his breath through the clothing.

Frustrated, he starts kissing my neck again as he raises my skirts. My pulse is pounding in my lady parts, and I feel like a wild animal.

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