Page 33 of Only the Wicked
“Yes. The wind lifted her to a home with servants and riches beyond imagination. She felt her husband but never saw him. And she was happy. Until her sisters came to visit. They were jealous and convinced her that this husband of hers remained hidden because he was a serpent. Afraid they were correct and doubting her love, she brought a lantern at night. When she saw him sleeping, he awoke and said that without trust, there could be no love.”
“That’s the story of Cupid? That’s tragic.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
A flash of lightning lights the room and for a brief second, I’m entranced by the amusement playing out on her face, the upturn of her full lips, her dark hair tousled over the pillow.
“So what? Does he strike himself with an arrow?”
“There’s no need. He’s already in love. He’s just devastated she didn’t trust him.”
“So what happens?”
“She goes through a series of trials and tribulations, proving her love and her trust.”
“I’m getting the abbreviated version?”
“Her journey involves fleeces of gold and the River Styx. Venus sent Psyche on a quest to find a box?—”
“Oh no, not Pandora’s box?”
“Not Pandora’s, but one she should not open. But she’s prideful and believes she deserves to open it, and when she does, she falls into a deep sleep. Venus had locked Cupid away, but while the door was locked, a window was open, which Nana said shows it’s impossible to restrain love. Cupid flew out to rescue his wife with a tip of his arrow and by wiping away her sleep.”
“That’s sweet.”
“It gets better. Cupid took Psyche before Jupiter and an assembly of the gods, and Jupiter declared them officially married and he made Psyche immortal. Cupid represents love and Psyche the soul.”
“I like that story. After their trials and tribulations, the gods declared love and the soul are forever joined.”
“Exactly.”
“My favorite mythology tale had been Icarus.”
“Flying too close to the sun?”
“Overly confident. Proud.” She fingers my chest and I close my eyes, loving the feel, the touch, the intimacy.
“Cupid dethroned Icarus?”
“Yeah, I think so.” Her lips press to my shoulder, then against my throat.
And fuck if I don’t want her.
I’m the brilliant one agreeing to lie in bed with a woman I can’t fuck.
Her palm flattens on my shoulder, pressuring me onto my back. Her lips trail down, the hard edges of nails lightly scraping as they explore, going ever lower. She palms my erection through my briefs.
Jesus.
“You don’t have to do this,” I grit, wanting her to do exactly that. Yes, I spent the time giving her a sensual massage and I did so without expectations. But now…I’m only human.
Her grip tightens and my head tilts back in ecstasy.
I hiss, groan, and hell, all resolve to make tonight all about her dissolves when she pushes my boxers down, releasing me. She takes me with her hand and finally her mouth. She’s not tentative. She’s observant, watching with rapt attention, learning what I like, and well, I’m a man. I like it all. And she’s an expert. As she works me over, taking me deep, I relax into the pillow. Absolute bliss. Her grip. Tongue. Mouth. And to top it all off, when I warn her, my hips surging upwards of their own volition, because I’m that close, she doubles down and my tip hits the back of her throat. She wants my release, and I give it to her in thick, heavy spurts. Fuck.
If this is what solo vacations are like, Miles was right—I’m way overdue.
Chapter
