Page 91 of Kingmakers, Year Four

“I love the way that tastes in your mouth,” he growls.

We’re dancing again, and this time I can’t look at anything but him. He’s magnetic, unleashed in a way I’ve never seen before. He’s looking at me the way he used to when we first met, his eyes burning over every inch of me, an intensity in his stare that almost frightens me. I don’t see his usual restraint—I see the other Ares. The one who appears only rarely . . . when he begins to lose control.

I want to know that person.

I get us a second cup of punch, watching Ares swallow it down in one gulp. He crumples the empty cup in his hand, his eyes fixed on mine.

He’s reckless tonight.

We both want to see where this goes.

He pulls me back into his arms, his large hands tight against my lower back, sliding down to grip my ass. He gropes me, not giving a fuck who sees.

At that moment, Sabrina Gallo enters the dance with Ilsa Markov.

They stand in the doorway, the two dark-haired sirens amplifying each other’s beauty.

I’ve never seen two such sexual women side by side. Like twin stars, they bring the whole room into their orbit.

Ilsa Markov is tall and cap-shouldered, her chin upraised in haughty satisfaction as she surveys the room. The V of her scarlet dress runs all the way down to her navel, the slit all the way up her thigh.

Sabrina Gallo wears black—on the bits of her body covered by her dress. The gown is a marvel of engineering, clinging to her curves in only the most anatomically-requisite positions, before swooping away to reveal startling slices of glowing golden skin.

The two girls stand arm-in-arm, the air between them crackling with overlapping sensuality.

They walk directly to the dance floor, Sabrina slipping her arms around Ilsa’s neck. Bodies entwined, they dance slowly, sensually, their hands sliding over each other’s curves, their eyes locked.

It’s intensely fucking sexy. I’m staring, heat rising in my cheeks.

Ares’ torso is pressed against my back, his hands on my hips. He bends his head to murmur in my ear, “You like that?”

I lick my lips, eyes still on Sabrina and Ilsa.

“Sure,” I say. “Who wouldn’t.”

He growls, “Why don’t you join them?”

My stomach gives a long, slow lurch. My eyes are locked on the girls, their bodies lithe and graceful as they twine around each other. Their breasts press together through the thin material of their dresses. Ilsa’s nipples are hard, visible through the scarlet satin.

Something flares inside of me. Call it the devil on my shoulder, giving me a push.

I walk straight toward the girls.

Ilsa catches sight of me first, stepping back slightly with an appraising look up and down my body. Sabrina turns, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a wicked smile.

The girls envelop me like an oyster, circling around me like a pearl.

They press tight against me in the hot, throbbing space, their bodies sliding easily against the silky material of my dress.

I can’t believe how soft their skin is—like the inside of a rose petal. They smell sweet and enticing: their hair, their skin, and their breath.

The girls’ delicate hands know exactly where to touch as Ilsa slides her palms up the undersides of my breasts from behind, and Sabrina nuzzles her full lips against my neck from the front.

I’m touching them both, feeling the impossible smallness of Sabrina’s waist between my hands, and Ilsa’s firm breasts rubbing against my back. I’m inhaling their light, clean scent. But I’m looking at Ares, at his strong jaw, broad shoulders, and brilliant blue eyes. The mix of masculine and feminine is a potent aphrodisiac, skyrocketing my heart rate until I can feel it throbbing all the way down between my thighs.

I’ve always found women just as beautiful as men—sometimes, even more so. I respect strong women the way I respect strong men. What I would call a “deep sense of admiration” sometimes has a much more heart-pounding flavor.

Ilsa Markov takes my chin between her thumb and forefinger, turning my head toward her. She kisses me deeply, her lips firm and warm, her jaw sharp against my palm as I touch her soft face.

---