Page 71 of The Shadow Gods

He wore a tight T-shirt and jeans. I teased the hem, pushing it aside with my fingertips to lay my palm against his hot skin. I glided my hand up his side, tracing the solid muscle. He groaned, the sound disappearing into our mouths as our tongues touched and retreated.

I loved this. Loved, loved, loved this. And maybe he hadn't said it, but this kiss said he might—a little, at least—love me back. He protected me and checked on me. He put my needs above his.

If that wasn't love, then I'd settle for what he could give, because to me, it was everything.

I stroked his warm skin and hard muscles, tracing a line from his side down to the edge of his jeans.

My heart swelled with my love for him, chasing out the darkness that had been there seconds before he stepped in this room. He hadn't known that his touch and presence had the ability to turn me from being angry and hurt to this.

These men—even when they were bossy and commanding and annoying—made me happy. Just a look, a touch, and I was done.

“Paris,” I whispered as his lips trailed from my lips down my neck to settle in the hollow of my throat.

He pulled back with a low growl. “I only planned to wake you.”

Mission accomplished. I was wide awake and on fire. He lifted me until my butt was on the sink, and I tilted my head back to meet his eyes. His expression was unfamiliar. Ferocious. Focused. Serious. “I lied to myself.”

He kissed me again, slow and deep and with all the honesty he'd maybe hidden from himself.

“Can I see you?” I asked, pushing up his shirt. All I wanted was to be wrapped around him.

Paris slid his tongue over mine, then withdrew. “One second.”

Wide-eyed, I watched him open the door and leave.

Okay, then.Left alone, I realized what I'd almost done. Orestes was asleep in the other room.

Paris returned seconds later. His blue eyes were bright and his cheeks pink.

“Are you okay?” I asked, putting my hands on his face. His skin was hot.

His hands gripped mine. “There's not enough time.” Dropping his lips onto the top of my head, he blew my bangs over my forehead with his rapid breaths, tickling my skin.

Inside, I ached. My body pulsed, yearned to be filled, but I didn't push it. As much as I wanted to unbutton his jeans and free the length currently pressed between my legs, I didn't.

I slid from the counter, but Paris stopped me. “That wasn't a no.”

When I stared at him in confusion, he cocked his head to the side. “It was a,there's not enough time to do what I planned, but I'm a man who can improvise.”

I sucked in a breath as he dipped low and swept my nipple into his mouth. He lapped me, sucked at my breast, and then pulled back. “Gorgeous.”

He gazed up at me. He had no idea. I wasn't the gorgeous one. He was.

Reaching his hands over his head, he grabbed the neck of his shirt and jerked it over his shoulders, revealing an utterly perfect and smooth chest.

It took me a moment for my brain to catch up with my eyes and tell me to touch him.Touch him.Somehow, I found the strength to graze his skin with my fingertips, circling the dark pink buds of his nipples before leaning down and giving one a hard pull.

With a hiss, he let his head fall back. I peered up, taking in the smooth line of his throat and the way he swallowed hard.

His blond hair fell away from his face, revealing that perfect bone structure that models around the world would die for.

I crept my fingers from his chest down to his waist, unbuttoned his jeans, and pushed my hand past the material.

Paris groaned and I smiled before sharply nibbling at his nipple. “Gods, Leo.”

He dove his hands into my hair, moving my head where he wanted so he could flutter kisses down the side of my neck, along my collarbone.

My upper breast.

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