Page 95 of Oh No! There's an Incubus in my Hot Spring
I kick off my shoes and flop onto the couch. “I’m sorry I directed my frustration at you. It was unfair, and I was being an asshole.”
I sigh deeply into the pillow and fight the urge to cry.
Talons scrape across my scalp, untangling my hair down my back, and send relief washing through me. I sigh again, but this time I can’t stop the tightness in my throat, or the burning in my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I sob.
He shushes me, dragging his nails down my back. “You’re not an asshole. I understand how making a scene about something unrelated to the joy of the opening is going to inflame the media and detract from the focus you wanted. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to control myself.”
“I wanted to hurt him, too.” I huff and turn my head.
His eyes are dim as he watches me, thumbing away a tear on my cheek. “I know. I could feel it.” He smiles softly. “But enough of that. I made you something.”
I sit up and wipe my face on my baggy sleeve. “What is it?”
He stands, offering me his hand. “You’ll have to come see.”
I take his hand and he pulls me off the couch with a grin. We walk toward the kitchen and my brain turns over what he possibly could’ve made for me. A cake? Maybe pancakes?
He directs me to the blank mountainous wall under the stairs to the bedroom and places our hands against the stone. The blue tattoo circling his bicep slithers down his arm and lights up my palm with warmth and color. The magic shifts, its hue changing from blue to purple, then to a peachy orange-pink,“What is that?” I ask, staring at the strings of color wriggling their way up my arm.
“It’s your magic,” he says, stepping behind me. “You can show yours now, wear it like me, if you want.”
He grabs my other arm, threads his fingers with mine, and places them against the wall. The heat of his body and his magic warm me through, making my tears evaporate. The ground trembles and the grinding of stone rumbles beyond our palms.
His lips brush the tip of my ear and a chill races down my spine. “I’ve been planning this for a while, but your magic wasn’t strong enough until tonight.”
The wall groans and the vibrations ripple up my arms. An archway emerges, cut in winding designs that mimic the look of Apollo’s tattoos. Then the wall under our joined hands dissolves, leaving a long, dark passage before us. Colors twinkle in the distance, lighting up the end of the tunnel. It smells like the springs, and steam ripples out of the opening.
“It will only open for the two of us,” he says, wrapping our still-joined hands around my stomach until he’s hugging me from behind.
I take a step forward and Apollo releases everything except my left hand, trailing beside me. I touch the wall, feeling the smooth stone of the mountain hum beneath my fingers as I walk. I’m transfixed by the gleam of dazzling colors as we emerge from the thirty-foot passage.
It’s an enormous cavern made entirely of crystals that glimmer from small fires lit around the room. A passage at the back appears to lead up and out of the mountain, letting the smoke drift away on the wind. The three pools shimmer, tiny beads of steam swirling over the surface with the breeze.
Apollo grips my chin. “Breathe, lovely.”
I suck in a gasp and steady myself against his chest. “It’s incredible.”
“And it’s all yours,” he says, tucking my hair behind my ear.
“Ours,” I correct. “You made it for the two of us.”
“Wemade it.” His eyes dance with mischief, and desire. I want to tumble down those depthless icy eyes and disappear in lust.
I step away from him and he releases me. I grab the bottom of my sweater and pull it up over my head, then shuck it to the ground. His gaze turns molten. I watch him watch me undress, reveling in the way his eyes track around my body. Not just my breasts, but my neck, my arms, my stomach. He’s devouring every bit of me like it’s all precious.
My thumbs hook my leggings, and I drag them down and step out of them, leaving me in just a tank top, and my panties—something special I’d worn just for him. A blue lace thong that matches his magic and his eyes perfectly.
“Take off your shorts,” I say, my voice quiet and shaky.
I know he can disappear them with a wave of his fingers, but he doesn’t. He grabs the waist and pulls them down, revealing himself to me like I’d done to him. I’d seen him naked months ago, but I’d pointedly avoided looking.
Now I look.
His hips create a sharp Adonis V that draws me to the mound of his pelvis where a raised and ribbed patch sits. It looks exactly like something I’d love to grind on. His cock is thick and slate gray like his skin, except the head, which shifts to a dark pink like his tongue. The tip is flared, and smooth nodules protrude in the veins along the top of his shaft.
Apollo grabs my chin and raises my eyes to his. He’s grinning. “Breathe, lovely.”
