Page 42 of The Chosen Son

“Deimos?” I panted uncertainly, as the heat sank deeper into my core, and the tingling grew sharper, like it had grown teeth. Was it supposed to feel like this?

“I’m here, you’re okay,” he assured me. He gave my arm a gentle tug, and I fell into him, my body sagging, boneless.

The ground itself seemed to shift under me, and a whimper escaped my lips. We toppled backward onto the bed, Deimos on top of me. I didn’t intend to cling to him, wrapping my free hand around his waist, my fingers tangled in his shirt, but all the emotions and sensations were overwhelming, making my head spin. Would I still be the same person without my power? Would I be defenseless, ripe to be taken advantage of? I could feel my strength, my speed, as it was being drawn out, like the sand beneath my feet being pulled out by the tide. Part of me wanted to drag it back within myself, to guard it, but as the level inside dipped, it left in its wake a feeling of pure clarity and vitality.

And now that I’d had a taste, I neededmore.

Deimos had this look of utter bliss on his face, and it softened his features, making him look almost happy and at peace. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, and I wasn’t sure he was aware of the way his thumb was stroking my hand. I was certainly aware, though. Everypoint of contact between us drew my attention. I was compelled to touch him, to make sure he was real, and I found myself caressing his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. He leaned into my touch, his tongue darting out to flick against my flesh. Was this some kind of dream? I couldn’t decide if it was a fantasy or a nightmare.

Almost in answer, Deimos wedged a knee between my legs and dropped his forehead to my shoulder, moaning. “Cameron, holy shit, this is… a lot.Wow.” He sounded out of breath, his words whispering over the sensitive skin of my neck as he traced his nose up the column of my throat.

I should’ve pushed him away, kept it clinical like a business transaction. There wasn’t supposed to be anything erotic about this, but it was more intimate than anything I’d ever experienced before. I was fully exposed to him in every sense of the word—and holy shit, did it ever make mehard.

“I want more,” he groaned, licking up my neck with the flat of his tongue, and I shamelessly tilted my head to the side to grant him access.

He released his grip on my hand and instead slid up under my shirt and put his palm flat on my stomach. I grunted as it shot an electric current straight south to my dick. “Oh gods,” I whimpered, my eyes rolling back into my skull.

Deimos gripped my short hair in his fist, and I hissed at the sting, a confusing mix of pleasure and pain. “The only god here is me,” he growled, right before his lips slammed down onto mine. His tongue invaded my mouth, and I grew drunk on the taste of him.

Kissing Deimos was intense, like everything else about the man. He was everywhere at once, his fingers in my hair, grabbing desperately at my shirt to expose more skin. Grinding his erection into mine. I’d never been so fully dominated like this before, pinneddown and so thoroughlyowned. In this moment, he laid claim to every part of me, and instead of making me feel weak, I felt bolder and somehow even more in control.

It bordered on too much for me to handle, but caught up in the moment, I was surprised to find I was more than willing to try, even if it killed me.

He pulled back, panting to catch his breath, and I swore his eyes were glowing with an inner light. “Tell me I can fuck you,” he said with a tinge of desperation. He rolled his hips, building friction between us. I grabbed at him with the full intention of keeping him still, but instead, I found his ass cheeks, one in each hand, and kneaded those muscular globes like I was making bread.

I moaned in lust-fueled frustration. “I can’t have sex with you. I hate you, remember?”Don’t I?I wasn’t so sure anymore.

Deimos gripped me behind one knee and hiked my leg up, angling his hips to massage his erection exactly where I needed it the most. “You can still hate me while you take my dick,” he said with a devilish smirk. “In fact, I encourage it. Hate sex is hot.”

He didn’t ask me again, and I didn’t offer. But he also didn’t judge me when he flipped us over and I rode his thigh like a pony. No shame, right? Slick soaked my sweats, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Heat, pressure, friction, desperation—it all built up inside until I couldn’t see straight.

“That’s it, take what you need,” he coaxed, his hands at my waist guiding me back and forth. And that was exactly what I did.

“Ah, fuuuck,” I moaned, my eyes squeezed tight as I came harder than I ever had in my life. Stars burst behind my eyelids, and I may have blacked out for a second or two.

I came back to myself slowly at first, inching out of the haze I’d dived headfirst into. But then I suddenly became aware of the wayDeimos was drawing a pattern across my back, and my eyes snapped open. I drew a gasping breath and sat up. I was straddling him, my pants sticky and wet, but he was still sporting a major boner. I couldn’t stop staring at it.

I expected him to make some snide comment about leaving him hanging, but he was strangely somber considering our current situation. “How do you feel?” he asked too gently, watching me warily as though expecting me to throw some big emotional scene.

Besides my sweats sticking to me in the worst way?I held my hands out in front of me, flipping them over and flexing my fingers. They looked the same, but nothing would ever be the same again. “I feel… human.”

There was a gaping cavity inside where the powers had been. It seemed bottomless, like a piece of myself had been torn out of me—no matter how enjoyable the process had been. My eyes stung with unshed tears, and I wiped them away with the back of my hand. Even though I’d been literally begging for this, I was still plagued by a sense of regret. Of loss and grief.

“Hey, are you okay?” His words needled at me, prodding at every tender spot I had. Even the villain felt sorry for me. Oh, boo-hoo, look at the poor broken man. Because if I wasn’t the Chosen One anymore… then who was I?

I crawled off Deimos and backed away as far as my cage would allow, my pants a wet mess. My face was hot with embarrassment. “Get out,” I muttered, staring at the floor. I couldn’t even bring myself to look at him, to see the pity in his eyes.

Deimos sat up, looking stunned. “Cam, don’t be like that.”

He stood up and reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” I shouted. “What, you haven’t taken enough from me? You’re so greedy that you need more?” A teartracked down my cheek. “Why don’t you go fight your stupid war with Loki and leave me alone!”

His arms fell to his sides, his entire presence dimming. “Sure, Cam. Whatever you need.” He turned his back on me and walked away, leaving the cage open, on purpose this time. I was no longer a threat.

I had the most insane thought—that I’d hurt his feelings—but men like Deimos didn’t have feelings. He only cared about himself and getting revenge for his lost love.

I could feel my power inside him, calling to me like a siren song. Watching him walk away caused a deep physical longing, but I told myself it would pass. I was fully human now, I was healthy, and that was all that mattered. As his footsteps faded in the distance, a silence settled over me, and I felt more alone than I ever had before. I slid down the wall and wrapped my arms around my legs, burying my face against my knees.

This was what I’d wanted.

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