Page 59 of The Shadow Gods

In seconds, I went from hot to inflamed. I chased him with my hips, rolling back each time he withdrew.

He stood, and the crack of his palm against my ass made me jump before flooding me with the most delicious heat.

“Look at that,” he whispered, and I peered over my shoulder. His handprint stood out pink against my white skin. He leaned down, kissed it, then stood straighter.

This was a side of Orestes I hadn't known existed. But I should have.

Every step he took was methodically thought out. He looked for consent and asked questions. All of that—I realized—was the buildup to this.

He knew me. My boundaries were drawn in bright red lines, and he was skirting the edges of them so perfectly, my body was ready to explode.

I could let go.

The trust he built between us allowed me to drop my control right into his hands and know he would take care of me.

Never, in a million years, would I think a smack on my ass would make me come, but I was right...fucking...here.

And he wasn't even inside me yet.

Reaching past me, he turned off the water and lifted me into his arms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, holding tight as he took us out of the shower into the bathroom.

I expected to open my eyes and see the bed, but instead, I found myself face-to-face with myself.

Orestes stood behind me in the huge bathroom mirror, his face intense and eyes on mine.

His gaze left mine to travel my body, lingering on my hips and breasts. A flush broke out on my skin, but I didn't look away. Lines of bright red appeared on his cheeks, and his shoulders heaved with each breath.

“Look at you.”

I preferred to look at him. He took my hands, placing them on the counter and curled my fingers around the lip of the sink. Releasing me, he reached for a condom he must have placed on the marble countertop before he got into the shower.

I took it from him, ripped it open, and turned in his arms. I was all about his chosen position, but I wanted to put this on him. And I wanted to kiss him while I did it.

His skin was hot against my palm as I fisted him. He lifted me, a quick jerk, and then he stepped between my open legs and pressed his lips to mine.

He tasted like my toothpaste. His kiss was confident and completely absorbing. He drew my tongue into his mouth, teasing it with his own, and we chased each other, tongues swirling and sucking.

Orestes was everywhere. His hands roamed my wet body, diving between my legs to thrust into me as I tried to keep up a rhythm to my movement.

A warm, wet bead of liquid spilled over my fingers, and he ripped his mouth from mine. In one spin, he had me back on my feet, facing the mirror. Taking the condom from me, he stared between us.

Then he was there, holding the blunt head of his cock right at my entrance. I closed my eyes at the first nudge against me, but he squeezed my hands.

“Watch,” he commanded, and I opened my eyes.

He stood behind me, taller and broader and darker than me, but with an expression of wonder that wasn't so different than mine. Eyes locked, he pressed into me and held himself as deep as he could go.

“You're beautiful, Leo.”

My own reflection wasn't interesting to me, but his? God. He was gorgeous. He didn't move and lifted both his eyebrows. “Look,” he demanded.

Taking a deep breath, I flicked my eyes to my reflection.

I didn't recognize myself. Who was this girl with the wild, dark-auburn hair and swollen, pink lips? The one whose eyes were heavy lidded and whose golden freckles stood out against her rosy cheeks?

“Do you see?” he asked, pulling out of me and then shoving back inside.

It was us. Me with him. That's what made me beautiful. Watching us together amped up my arousal. Shifting my hips back, I tried to meet him, pump for pump, and hold off the orgasm that was tingling like fingers along my skin.

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