Page 294 of Bonds of Hercules
Heated lips claimed mine—Augustus pulled my thighs wide apart and flexed inside of me. I moaned into his open mouth, and he bit down on my bottom lip.
I was displayed before Kharon, impossible pleasure once again mounting as Augustus kissed me, exploring my stomach and chest.
He flexed his hips up with a hard thrust, fingers moving lower and parting my curls as he pressed against my clit, his piercing dragging pleasurably deep inside.
It was too much.
I screamed into Augustus’s mouth as I clenched around him, my thighs shaking.
“I love you so much, my carus.”
Augustus swore, sucking on my tongue as he pulsed and flexed, coming with me.
Warm spurts spilled out seemingly endlessly, wetness dripping down my thighs and onto the chair beneath us.
I tipped my head back, melting against him, boneless.
Thumbs traced under my eyes, wiping tears away.
I hadn’t realized I was crying.
Kharon wrapped his soft cloak around my shoulders and lifted me off Augustus, cradling me against his chest. I rested my head against his new scar, his heart beating beneath my ear.
My eyes closed.
“You did so beautifully,” whispered through my mind.
Half-conscious, I barely noticed as Kharon laid me down on silk sheets, and a wet cloth was dragged between my thighs, cleaning me with tender carefulness.
The comforter was pulled up over my shoulders. Augustus tucked it under my legs and arms, fussing until only my ears were exposed.
I drifted to sleep with a grin.
The darkness shifted—I dreamed of the grim reaper hovering inches away from my face, watching.
My lashes fluttered open, heart thudding with fear.
I was lying in a velvet-draped four-poster bed, and the bedroom was dark. Augustus lay pressed against my side, his bronze thigh draped across my body as he hugged me tightly.
I turned my head—and gasped.
A pale blue gaze shone in the dark.
Kharon stood next to the bed, leaning over me. His face was predatory, eyes narrowed with a single-minded intensity. He didn’t move; he just watched me like a man possessed.
My personal grim reaper.
He leaned closer so our noses touched. “You’reours, Alexis Hert,” he whispered in a gravelly voice. “Ours to watch, to protect … to devour.”
I brushed an inky lock of hair off his forehead.
“Calm down,Karen.”
He stilled—I arched my eyebrow at him—his posture relaxed, and he sighed like he was resigned to my audacity.
“You’remyangel,” he said vindictively, like he needed to make a point. “Rome can’t have you.” His voice deepened with unhealthy possessiveness. “I won’t allow it. Do you understand what I’m—”
I pulled Kharon down, cutting his tirade off—he melted into my arms with his face burrowed against my throat. He inhaled deeply.
