Page 122 of Bonds of Hate

I don’t even realize I’ve fallen into fitful sleep when I’m abruptly woken by the feel of something cool touching my forehead. I lean into the sensation with a desperate moan. The relief is instant but fleeting.

“Shhhh, it’s just me.” Ares’s deep voice rumbles through the darkness. “You’re burning up, little one.”

I try to focus on his face hovering above me, but my vision keeps sliding sideways. His hand feels like blessed ice against my skin.

“Do you feel sick? How long have you been like this?” His other hand brushes sweat-dampened hair back from my face.

“Just hot,” I manage to croak, though the touch of his hand provides more relief than anything else I’ve tried.

“I should call the doctor.” Ares pulls back and I whimper at the loss of his cool touch. “Shit, the lockdown. No one’s allowed in or out of the royal wing right now. Let me see if I have anything for a fever.”

His weight shifts on the bed and panic spikes through me. “Don’t go.”

I wrap my arms and legs around Ares, pulling him down beside me with a strength that probably startles him as much as it does me. The cool fabric of his shirt feels heavenly against my burning skin. His solid weight grounds me, making the spinning room go completely still for the first time in hours.

“Maya, wait.” He tries to pull back, but I cling tighter. “You’re probably sick. We can’t be doing this…”

I press closer, rubbing my cheek against his chest. “Please stay. You make it better.”

“You’re not thinking clearly.” His muscles are tense, but he doesn’t attempt to break free. “Let me up so I can help you properly.”

I arch against him, seeking more of that blissful coolness. My entire body thrums with the need to be closer, to sink into his strength and never surface. I rip at his shirt until he strips it off and I toss it onto the growing pile of his clothes already on the bed. “You are helping. Don’t go anywhere.”

“Maya...” His voice comes out strained as I grind against the front of him. “This isn’t what you need right now, sweetheart.”

I cut off his protests by rolling my hips against his, desperate for relief from the fire consuming me. His sharp intake of breath echoes in the darkness.

“Please,” I whimper, not even sure what I’m begging for anymore. Just that I need him — his touch, his scent, his presence — more than my next breath. “Please, touch me.”

“You’re playing with fire, here.” Ares gathers my body closer with one arm around my back. His other hand slides across my breast, stroking my nipple through the fabric sweat-stuck to my skin. He buries his face in my neck and groans when I settle further into his lap and writhe against him. “Fuck, what am I saying? You are the fire. Fucking burning me up.”

I don’t fight when he rolls me to my back, fingers gathering up the hem of my nightgown and pushing it up my thighs. He doesn’t stop until the fabric is pushed high enough to reveal my bare chest.

I press deeper into the cushion as his mouth lowers to my skin, twisting at the intense feeling. His lips are soft against my nipple, his tongue teasing my hardened peak. He guides my knees up around his waist, shifting until he’s positioned between my legs, pressing his arousal against my cotton-covered center.

The languid pace increases quickly, deliberate tenderness morphing into something harsher. But the electric jolts where he rocks against me make it hard to protest. I clutch at his shoulders, and his muscles flex under my palms as he moves against me.

“This turns you on, doesn’t it?” he pants. “You enjoy feeling me against you.”

Ares maintains the fabric barrier between us, making no move to undress either of us any further. His restraint surprises me. He could push further. At this moment, that’s all I want him to do.

In this moment, it’s impossible to recall why I haven’t fucked him a hundred times already.

I tilt my chin in agreement, lifting my hips. “So much.”

His expression gleams with fierce pleasure. He lowers his gaze to watch our bodies meet. “Damn, I’m dying to take you. You’d be so ready for me.”

I look down, my stomach tightening at the sight. His bulge practically pulses against the fabric of his pants, fighting to be free with as much desperation as I currently feel.

Groaning, he continues to grind against me, rubbing my clit at the perfect angle to make me moan. “Fuck, it’s all I can think about sometimes. Having you completely. Makes me lose my mind.” His words tumble out now, caught in the same haze driving our movements. “Want to claim you. Hear you cry out for me.” His lips hover above mine as his jaw tenses. “Say it,” he commands, his rhythm growing desperate and rough.

My nails bite into his back as I chase the peak. The tension coiling inside nearly bursts, making my legs quiver against him. Arousal alone keeps me trapped beneath him, unable to do anything but chase the ultimate terminus of this pleasure.

“Say it,” he demands, bucking harder. Sending frissons of pleasure like lightning down my spine. “Say my name, Maya.”

Release crashes over me like a wave. My gasped, “Ares,” sounds barely human as I buck frantically against him.

The orgasm does nothing to take the edge off of my burning need for more, more, MORE. I’ve barely come down from the high before I frantically push at the waistband of his pants, while he encourages me to slow down with a breathless chuckle.

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