Page 94 of Their Will be Done

Blasphemous little sl—

You know what? Fuck it.

I arch into him, tangling my fingers in his hair. If this is going to happen, then for once I’m going to be in charge of it fucking happening. No more being bullied. No more unwanted fingers in my yoohoo.

Apollo huffs out a laugh as we totter back from the force of my kiss. But instead of pushing me away, or laughing harder at my pathetic attempts at seduction, he slings an arm around my waist, hoists me up, and plops me onto the desk behind him.

The cold metal starts seeping through my dress.

But cold is the last thing on my mind.

I’m focused entirely on Apollo’s mouth. But, also, how silky his hair feels as I twine it through my fingers. Then there’s his intoxicating taste, and the way he urges my hips closer to his with both hands on the small of my back.

Okay, fuck it, my mind is going in fifty different directions. But just like that web on his board, everything leads back to him.

His kiss grows deeper. He slides his tongue into my mouth, cautiously curious, until I give him unrestricted access.

Then he kisses me so hard my core starts to ache, and I can’t help but moan against his lips.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he murmurs, a volley of hot pants brushing my skin as he pulls away. “I thought they were making that shit up.”

Wait…what?

I shove him away. Stare open-mouthed.

He grins, rakes his hair out of his eyes, and pounces on me again without a word of warning.

They told him what Itastedlike?

I thump a fist into his chest, but he just grabs my wrist and moves it off to one side without pausing his kiss.

It’s ridiculous to attack him, especially since I’m still kissing him back. Fuck…kissing him back? I’m barely holding my ground. He’s so passionate, so enthusiastic, my heart starts fluttering in my chest like a moth trapped in the tub.

But still I try and pound him with my other fist.

And then he snatches that one too. Now they’re both at the small of my back, and he uses both hands to keep them there while he urges me forward, closer to the edge of the desk.

He tips his head forward, leaning his brow against mine. We’re both panting, and this time it has nothing to do with climbing stairs.

“I could kiss you all day,” he breathes, and then brushes his lips over my nose, my cheek, my ear. “But that bell’s going to go off in a minute.”

And then the craziest words fall out of my mouth. “Can we go back to your room?”

Hormones.

That’s my story, and I’m sticking with it.

He grins against my mouth, and a happy huff caressing my lips. “I’d love to, but I can’t. Raincheck?”

I nod, biting the inside of my lip hard enough that I’m surprised I don’t taste blood.

He lifts me, twirling me around once before letting me slide to the ground, kissing me on the way down.

Then he herds me out of the tiny room, allowing me a precious second to stare at his media mural before he shuts the door and locks it.

When he turns, I force a wide smile onto my face and desperately hope he can’t see through it.

That photo is going to haunt me. Those faces…

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