Page 114 of The Devil and His Goddess

“Goddess,” he repeated softly.

I lifted my hips and dropped them again, sending a burst of euphoria racing through my body. The small moan Perseus released was music of the greatest kind, and I became eager to hear it, just as I was eager to feel that sweet heat at my core.

I rolled my hips and used his chest as leverage to aid in my movements. The chords in his neck stood out even as his hands remained gentle on my face.

“Goddess,” he rasped as I rose and sank onto him again.

My gaze traced his parted pink lips, the flushed golden skin of his cheeks, the perfect ridge of his nose, his masculine jawline, and his perfect otherworldly eyes. Every little detail went together to create the man beneath me, the man who cared for me when I didn’t have the strength to do it, who remained patient with me as I turned his company over on its head, who held my hand as I waded through the dark.

He was my demon. He was my peasant. He wasmine, and I …

“I love you,” I whispered.

He froze beneath my palms and stared up at me. The confession had been brewing inside of me for some time, and while I hadn’t meant to say it now while I was trying to overcome my fears, the truth couldn’t be held back anymore.

When Perseus finally moved again, it was so his lips could lift into a smile brighter than all the stars above us combined. “S’agapo.”

My eyes widened, and it was my turn to freeze. The familiar phrase shot straight into my heart and burst like a series of fireworks. It was only then that I realized what he’d already confessed weeks ago. When I was less than pleasant to be around, he still wanted me. When I was the reason he was in pain, he still pulled me closer. When I was at my darkest and lowest … he stilllovedme.

A small laugh left me, and I grinned down at him as tears filled my eyes. “S’agapo.”

I leaned down to kiss him. The sweep of our lips and tongues were slow and tender, matching the way I rode his cock. His hands stayed on the sides of my face, and mine remained on his chest, magnetized to the feel of his wild heartbeat under my palm. We gasped and breathed in the other’s sounds as my hips brought us both closer to that place we sought.

It was far from the filthy, raw, and hungry sex I typically loved, but for tonight, it was perfect. When we both finished and remained as we were, our foreheads pressed together and arms wrapped around one another, I found no old monsters coming to plague me. I found no self-hatred or shame in what I’d just done. Because it had been with him, and he …

He was my safety. He was my home. He was my sunshine.

Chapter 43

Harper

AIYSHA STOPPED THE MUSIC FROM where she stood with Perseus at the side of the room, and I went off relevé to face them while working to catch my breath.

“See?” I said weakly.

“Your dancing is beautiful,” Aiysha praised with a smile. That grin quickly changed, and she nibbled her lip as she reluctantly added, “You just need that Harper spark back.”

I’d been trying to regain that spark. It was all I thought about during the day when I worked on dance at home while Perseus was at Silverlight. Only when he came home did I let go of my struggles to exist in momentary peace.

When he and I were together, we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, and it didn’t even need to lead to anything sexual. We simply wanted to be close—my hand on his leg, his fingers running through my hair, my head on his chest while his arm held me close. It was like we were making up for the time lost.

That initial time by the pool was hard, but Perseus made it possible to get through with his reassurances and affection. We’d done it andmoreplenty of times since then, and each time got a little easier. There were times I’d still find panic-driven thoughts creeping in, or I’d feel a weird sense of shame afterward that he had to talk me through. Nonetheless, I was finding my footing.

If only the same could be said of dance.

Something was still missing, something at my core that fueled the way I danced. I’d managed to snag pieces of it when I danced with Perseus, but when I was alone again, that tether to my magic vanished until I was a moving, emotionless husk.

“That Harper spark,” I said bleakly, “is seeming more and more impossible to find. I don’t understand how I can’t … I’ve always …”

I sank to the floor and hung my head in defeat while rubbing at my forehead.

Perseus squatted in front of me, meeting my crestfallen expression with a firm one. “Why do you not look in the mirror when you dance anymore?”

The abrupt question left him, not like an actual probe, but as an accusation. Like he already knew the answer and was trying to get me to admit it because it had something to do with my current problem.

I held his steadfast gaze and gripped my ballet skirt tightly in my hands. Dance was the reason I existed. It was my first, and would be my last, love. Nothing had been allowed to get in the way of my art, and from the time I started, I had been keen on doing whatever necessary to become a better dancer. Watching myself as I performed helped me improve and gave me the confidence I needed to dance well. So why didn’t I look in the mirror anymore?

I couldn’t answer that, because it was the wrong question. The real question was why would Iwantto? Why would I want to see the lifeless performance? Why would I want to face myself and the truth that no one else was willing to acknowledge?

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