Page 92 of Heir of the Beast

He chuckles.

I frown.

“I have to leave. Thank you for being a good sport,” I say and stumble a bit over a rock. I am losing my firm grip here.

“Is that so?”

I grab my jacket and put it on with shaky hands. “Yes.”

“You get me harder than steel, and you’re going to leave me?”

I blush.

I was very bold—even shocking myself.

He clicks his tongue this time. “Not happening, Angel.” He slowly raises his hands, revealing the broken vines over angry red wrists.

~Oh my…~

I back up slowly. “I get that you’re mad, and I want to apologize.”

He laughs as he rubs his wrists. Apollo looks tall and powerful—standing there, gazing at me the way he is.

“I’m not mad, Angel, quite the opposite. In fact, I don’t think I have ever been more turned on in my life.”

I stare at him with my mouth open.

His lips are on mine, and I didn’t even see him move. I’m crushed to the stone wall behind me, both of my arms held over my head by his hand. He surrounds me, he is everywhere.

Apollo lifts me, and my legs wrap around his waist as he grinds himself into me. His hot mouth sucks my neck as I feel his free hand grab my breast, molding it aggressively.

I don’t know where he begins, and I end.

He is moaning my name, and I don’t even know what’s coming out of my mouth. Screams, pants, rushed breaths?

“You want me, Angel?!” he rasps in my ear as his hips roll into mine.

I feel him grabbing me here and there, ripping things. Somehow his shirt is off and mine as well. This is absolutely crazy. My brain is functioning in tunnel-vision spurts.

All I can register is his mouth in my skin, his hard erection thrusting against my lady bits, intense pleasure, my screams, skin on skin, and flashes of us tangled together.

I have never felt this amount of frenzied passion before—read about it, but never experienced it.

His mouth is everywhere, kissing, sucking, and licking. My head falls back as I scratch his back, bite his shoulder, and pant his name.

“I want you now,” he rasps. “Please.”

“Yes,” I moan. “Now!”

I faintly feel him doing something to his pants, and then my hand is on the long length of him. ~Holy moly~…

I hear him hiss and say things I can’t understand or make out as I explore his velvety splendor. My gosh, he may not fit, and I mean that.

“It will fit.” He smiles into my neck.

But my thoughts are scattered as my arms wrap around his neck to hold on for dear life. He thrusts against my entrance over and over. I gasp, and the rest is history.

He pounds me into oblivion, not slowing for a second. It is a pure raw passion, our bodies moving as one. My brain is on fire as I reach my climax for the third time—or fourth? I lost count.

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