Page 133 of Crown of Olympus
I settled in the chair to her left and poured a glass of something pink and shimmering. It smelled like candy and joy.Just as I raised it to my lips, a gentle, perfectly manicured hand pressed down over mine.
“I wouldn’t,” Aph warned. “At least, not yet.” She winked knowingly, as if letting me in on a secret I should know but didn’t. I suspected I would become aware shortly.
Apollo arrived next, offering a signed greeting and a warm smile. He sat at the far end of the table, shooting a wary glance at Aphrodite that I couldn’t help but smirk at.
Aros appeared next, dressed in a fine green chlamys that did wonders for his fiery red hair. It was clasped at one shoulder with a silver, sword-and-crown-shaped brooch. The design was vaguely familiar — like I’d seen it somewhere before.
He dropped into the seat beside me, smirking mischievously as Caelus stepped through next. The storm-wielder took one look at the seating arrangements and, jaw set, chose the seat directly opposite mine. It was almost a perfect mirror of Hera’s banquet, only this time, it wasn’t the last remaining seat.
He ignored Aphrodite’s and Aros’ greetings, instead, he stared intently at me. His silvery gaze skimmed over every visible bruise, glaring at them like they personally offended him.
“Are you lost, Golden?” I drawled, my voice low and taunting.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “You could say that.”
Aros shook his head, feigning disappointment. He leaned over the table and raised a hand to his cheek in a faux whisper. “That’s when you’re supposed to woo her with a clever line about being lost in her eyes, man.”
I grinned fully then, reaching for the glass again — subconsciously looking for some task to keep my hands occupied — but my fingers flared when I remembered Aph’shushed warning. I wondered again exactly what she had planned for us — and what was in that glass.
Archimedes arrived last, unhurried as ever. He wedged himself between Apollo and Caelus with a small, genuine smile.
“Now that you’re all here,” Aphrodite began, sitting straighter in her seat, “I’d like to propose a toast.” She gestured to the bottle I’d poured from earlier and gifted me a salacious wink as the males poured themselves a healthy dose of whatever the pink liquid was.
When everyone had a full glass, Aphrodite stood and raised her own.
“To beauty, love, and lust,
Honour, truth, and trust.
May the men have good luck,
Or at least be good fucks,
And the women, an ample bust.”
She tipped her glass back and downed the pink liquid, smiling devilishly as we all followed suit. The moment it touched my tongue, I had to stifle a carnal moan — it was the most delicious thing I’d ever tasted. With notes of sugar, underlined by fruity bubbles, I immediately reached for more.
Aphrodite laughed, claiming the bottle before I could grasp it.
“I love you, Nyssa, but you’ll hate me if I let you drink more.”
I pulled a face, bemoaning the lack of pink liquor in my flute.
“Try something else.” She gestured to the cakes. “You’ll be feeling the effects of the drink in about thirty seconds — do try to behave yourself when you do,” she advised with a wink.
I frowned. No one was acting strangely. Aros reached forsomething resembling a tart — a round pastry with a lemon-yellow centre, roughly the size of his palm. He took a tentative bite, eyes widening with glee, then shoved the whole thing into his mouth with a groan of delight. My body responded instantly to the sound.
A flush rose to my cheeks, my nipples peaked beneath the soft black fabric of my gown, my core throbbing involuntarily.
Around the table, I saw similar reactions: quickened breathing, shifting limbs.
Apollo clenched his fists and shifted in his seat; Arch readjusted the groin of his tight leather breeches; Caelus bit his full lower lip as he watched me squirm.
And Aphrodite laughed delightedly.
Whatever was in that shimmery pink liquor had caused an intense bodily reaction in each of us, and my senses were going crazy. Everyone’s specific scents intensified tenfold, assaulting my sinuses and increasing the relentless throbbing of that tiny bundle of nerves between my thighs.
It was only with my godly strength that I managed to stop myself from leaping across the table and into Caelus’ lap — to finish what we’d started weeks ago. Especially with the expression on his face and hunger in his eyes, like he was imagining the exact same thing.
