Page 151 of Bonds of Hercules
Augustus stepped forward—Kharon shifted to the side to give him space—both crowded me; Augustus’s hips pressed against the right side of my body, and Kharon’s were flush against my left.
Badump-Badump-Badump.
Kharon’s calloused fingers rose to my collarbone and feathered over the diamond necklace—he dragged his nails up tomy jaw, leaving a wake of fire, then wrapped his hand around my neck.
His skin was burning.
Tchaikovsky waved his conductor’s wand, and the cello played.
The sensitive skin on my neckprickledwhere Kharon was touching me.
“Good girl,” Augustus whispered hoarsely.
A droplet of sweat dripped slowly between my breasts.
Kharon’s fingers tightened around my throat infinitesimally.
Unable to stop myself, I reached up and traced my hand across the hard ridges of his chest.
Kharon groaned, fingers relaxing as he moved his hand down to my sternum, while his lips ghosted over the side of my neck in barely there kisses.
Everything was hazy, in a warmlydelicious, scream-into-the-abyss-and-tear-at-your-scalp-while-you-spiral, hellacious sort of way.
Augustus wet his full lower lip.
I reached up and tangled my free hand in his long hair. It was shockingly silky.
Augustus surged forward—he kissed my open mouth, his tongue plunging deep—I tugged his hair, and a tortured growl ripped from his throat.
He tastes like lightning.
Kharon dragged his teeth down the side of my neck, then lapped at the aching flesh. My hand dipped lower, trailing over his torso.
Augustus kissed me harder—and I yanked sharply on his hair. He snarled, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
Kharon bit down on the side of my neck, and I shivered, fingers splaying across his lower stomach—he panted as he kissed the mark he’d left.
It feels like we’re fighting.
“Enough.” Augustus’s voice cracked like a whip as he pulledaway—yanking Kharon back with him. “Alexis will sleep in the bed, and we’ll worry about our arrangements later. Wecan’tafford to be distracted. We need to rest right now and mentally prepare for the opening ceremony.”
I struggled to catch my bearings.
Kharon tipped his head back to look at the rock ceiling. When he lowered it, his pupils were blown wide, black consuming the ice blue of his irises.
An otherworldly solar eclipse.
Augustus tossed his crown onto the bed and raked both his hands through his hair as he shouted a curse, his body taut.
The calm, composed man was gone, and the ferocious heir to the House of War seethed before me.
Kharon frowned, his eyes narrowed as he watched Augustus struggle. In reverse of their usual roles, he grabbed Augustus by his shoulders and shoved him into the bathroom.
The door slammed shut behind them—crash—and the walls shook, dust falling from the ceiling in a cloud.
Grunts and swears echoed.
“Calm the fuck down and stop panicking!” Kharon shouted as another crash rattled the wall.
