Page 25 of Sweet Obsession

His voice is rougher than normal, nowhere near as eloquent. But I can picture what he says all the same. Him filling me, our bodies thrusting together in a rhythm as old as time itself. “I want that,” I grind out.

“Then I suppose you’ll have to earn it.” He drapes himself over my back, the fabric of his pants agonizing against my tender ass. Imoan as he wraps his fist around my cock and gives me the contact I’ve been craving. Icarus allows me no time to brace. He strokes me roughly, almost too fast, but I’ve been primed from the moment he first struck me. Even as I try to fight the orgasm gathering in my balls and tensing every muscle in my body, I might as well try to fight the tide. I’m equally as successful. Pressure gathers in the base of my spine, my balls drawing up, and then it’s too late to do anything but submit.

I moan my way through an orgasm, hips jerking as I fuck into his hand. He gives me a few more strokes, each gentler than the last. “You did well, big guy.” He kisses the back of my neck and wraps his arms around my chest as much as he can. “Now, you are going to stay perfectly still while I go find a washcloth. Then we’re going to get in bed and you’re going to let me hold you through the adrenaline crash. Got it?”

He could have told me that the sky was green and the sun will never rise again, and I would’ve given him the same answer I give him now. “Got it.”

“You’re precious.” Icarus kisses my neck again. “Don’t move.” He rises on unsteady feet and walks to the bathroom. Only a minute or two later, he returns with a warm rag and sets about cleaning me up. Truthfully, there’s not much mess, certainly not enough to require the prolonged stroking and soothing, but I enjoy the gentle swipe of the wet cloth against my skin.

It takes me two tries to get to my feet, even with him urging me along. My head feels strangely floaty and my muscles are too loose. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this relaxed in my life. Later, I’ll worry about this addictive sensation coming at the hands of this man. Inthis moment, there’s no space to worry about what that means. I can only feel gratitude that I’ll be able to sleep tonight. Probably.

Icarus pushes me onto the bed and follows me down, tucking himself against my side and pressing another kiss to my throat. He laughs softly. “Your beard is scratchy. I like it.”

Tentatively, I wrap my arms around him and, when he doesn’t protest or move away, gather him close. There’s something about him that feels larger than life when he’s standing there being charming. It’s almost startling to realize how slight he is. How perfectly he tucks under my arm and lines up with my chest.

I…like it.

He strokes me gently, his fingers trailing over my chest, my stomach, then moving to my arm. “Next time, there needs to be a little more negotiation ahead of time. If you were anyone else, I don’t know if I’d give a fuck, but you’re too damngood. I don’t want to harm you.”

He calls me too good, but there’s no way to look at our current position, mostly naked in his bed, and come to any conclusion but that I abused my power just as thoroughly as the rest of the Thirteen do. He’s my captive. My enemy. Strange how those words feel more like a lie every time I think them. You’re not supposed to fuck your enemy, not even in Olympus.

“I shouldn’t have asked this of you.” But even as I say the words, I gather him closer. Gods help me, but I’m glad I came here. He offered me a gift I didn’t know how to ask for.

“You’re a good man, Poseidon.” He says it without lifting his head, allowing me the illusion of privacy as I blush in response to his words. “And you’re right on one count—Circe won’t be dissuaded.But…” He clears his throat. “But maybe there’s something I can do to help you strip her of some of her allies. It won’t save the city from invasion, but a smaller invading force has to help the odds, right?”

I try to think through the slog my thoughts have become. “How could you possibly do that?”

He’s silent for so long, I think he won’t answer me. That’s okay. This evening feels almost like a fever dream already. I’ll ask again in the morning.

Just when I’m on the edge of sleep, Icarus eases away from me. My eyes snap open. It’s everything I can do to let him go and not pull him back to sprawl on my chest. I have to respect this silent request for space. It’s the least I can do.

He sits up and drags his hand through his curly hair. “I was going to use this information to blackmail them to protect me from Circe’s rage and transport me back to Aeaea, but it’s obvious freedom isn’t in the cards for me.” He shakes his head. “Most of the generals who will be sailing with Circe are people whom I’ve shared a bed with. As a result, I have plenty of blackmail—information I know they would rather betray her for than allow to get out into the world. If I utilize it, there’s a decent chance I can convince some of them to abandon her. I just need to know which of them she brought with her. Like I said, it’s not going to stop the invasion, but it might give Olympus more of a fighting chance.”

I stare at him, trying to divine the thoughts behind his perfectly smooth mask. “If you do that for us, it will mean that you won’t have any cards left to play after this is all over.”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, not meeting my gaze. “I’ve kind of made my peace with the fact that I’m not going to survive this. There’s noreason for all that hard-won blackmail to go to waste.”

There’re so many things wrong with what he just said. I hate his fatalistic view of the future. I hate even more that I’m not certain he’s wrong. The only reason Zeus hasn’t come to visit our prisoner is because he’s distracted with Circe squatting on our horizon. Eventually he’ll remember Ariadne and the Minotaur left someone behind. A year ago, Zeus wouldn’t kill someone unless he absolutely had to. Now, I’m not so sure. He might very well decide Icarus serves no purpose except to be a knife at our back and that he needs to remove the threat once and for all.

I won’t let it happen.

I clamp my jaw shut to keep the words inside. If I tell Icarus that now, he’ll think I’m only saying it because I want the information in his pretty head. Or that it’s only the orgasm and pain making me silly and romantic enough to issue promises I have no intention of keeping. He has no reason to trust me. To trust anyone.

I silently vow to myself that I will see him come out of this alive and well, and I’ll give him whatever money he needs to start a new life.Someoneshould escape Olympus, after all.

If I hadn’t been at the marina, he might have managed it on his own.

But I need those secrets he holds. I need to give the city as much of a fighting chance as we can possibly manage. There are too many lives on the line. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

Icarus frowns down at me. “I’m not really the sleepover type.”

He’s trying to withdraw from me, to put up barriers between us. I should allow it. It’s the right thing to do. I don’t; the thought is abhorrent to me. I want to grasp at him with greedy hands, to holdhim to me. But why would he want such a thing fromme?

“Come here.” I don’t mean to say it, don’t mean to hold out my hand in a physical plea for closeness.

He huffs. “You’re going to get the wrong idea and end up getting your heart broken.”

Maybe. Probably. It’s a risk I’m willing to take. It feels wrong to leave him like this, alone and in his room, and so I won’t. Not unless he specifically asks me to…but I suppose I should give him the opportunity to tell me to leave. He puts on a good front, which means I can’t guarantee he actually trusts this balance enough to advocate for himself. “Do you want me to leave? Just say the word, and I will.”

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