Page 42 of House of Lilith

And the next thing I know, his eyes are narrowing, making my ears prick up and my muscles clench.

He’s pulling his arm back and he’s launching the javelin straight at me.

I do a back-flip, narrowly avoiding the weapon as it whizzes right above my stomach.

As soon as I land on my feet, he throws another one, rows and rows of them waiting on the weapons rack.

I keep avoiding them, one by one. And as usual, I need to actually work for it, serving as the moving target for one of the top javelin masters in our lands. So I find myself panting heavily within less than thirty minutes.

He suggests a break. I welcome it. I take the bottle of water he throws me and I down it thirstily, my mind instantly wandering to the party I’m being forced to attend.

The very thought gives me nervous flutters. Why am I nervous?

“Can’t we get a move on, cupcake?” Max calls out, javelin in his hand again.

I shake my head. “Yes, of course.”

And I get into the stance and he throws the weapon at me. I dodge. Then I dodge once again.

But as soon as it occurs to me, that I’ll have to go greet the host, I lose sight of the weapon as I run and it ends up hitting me straight in the chest.

The vest just blocks it and the javelin comes falling to the floor with a clear thud, but the impact still sends me crashing to the ground.

“Gotcha,” I hear Max yell out.

I look up from the floor to see the victorious grin on his face.

But when I get up, he’s approaching me with a slight frown on his face. “I said ‘gotcha’. Why are you so distracted?” he asks as he comes to stand in front of me.

For a second, I just look at him. And I don’t want to lie, so my mind goes straight to my former plans for the afternoon. “This research I’m doing,” I finally blurt out.

“What research?” He tilts his head as he wraps his arms around my waist and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

I smile and give one back, putting my arms around his neck. “I’m looking into my family’s ties to the Games.”

He frowns, pulling his head back a little. “What for?”

“Well,” I start, thinking, “at first, I did it for precaution. After what happened at the First Game, I just thought it’d be smart. But now, now it’s more about curiosity.”

“That’s nice,” he says, the look on his face growing softer as he leans in for a kiss.

I return it, but my mind is still on the party I’ll be going to later.

“Now,” he mutters, his breathing turning ragged as he closes his hands around my ass, “let’s get you out of those tights.”

I shake my head, not feeling in the mood for sex.

“Come on, cupcake,” he pleads. “How long has it been?”

A week at least, I think to myself.

And he starts pulling my tights down, along with my panties, so I kiss him back and I let him walk me backwards and against the mirrored wall.

His pants down, he lifts me up and keeps kissing me, and I start getting into it, but what takes me by surprise is this sudden desperation forthisto be the time I finally get there with him.

And once he gets inside me, it feels so good, but as he grunts into my ear, I know I won’t get the release. I never do. But his thrusts get more intense, making me crave it even more. My mind a blur, I start sliding my hand down my body, like I do when I’m alone.

The very next second, the usual anxiousness floods me, anxiousness at the very thought of him getting upset over it, like he did that once, ages ago.

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