Page 22 of A Vow to Set the Virgin Free

“The scones look lovely,” she said, taking one off the plate. He had left jam and cream out for her as well, which she spread on with much relish. He enjoyed watching her eat the food that he provided her. He had not realized that he was... Hungry for such things. For this matter of interaction. For the ability to share something with another person.

It made him appreciate, truly, the connection he had to Apollo for most of his life. Without each other, they would have been truly alone. And he had never fully considered what that would be like. Even in his concealment in the castle, he’d still had access to Apollo.

There was something about Athena that made him extremely conscious of what he’d not had all this time, and what he had.

His desire for her was...

He shut it down ruthlessly.

He had gone a decade without sex.

It was an appetite. Like any other. Not special or unique in that regard. Except, unlike sleep, or hydration or nutrition, you did not need it to survive. It could be denied. He’d had enough sex in the first twenty-eight years of his life to last him.

First he had sold it as a commodity, and then, the ultimate excess had been the ability to give it away for free. To anyone he chose.

And he had.

The drive could be denied easily enough now, and when it could not, he handled it dispassionately and alone.

But she was... She was glorious. And even just gazing upon her over the cameras was intoxicating.

“I do feel that it is a bit of an unfair advantage,” she said softly. “That you can see me, and I have not seen you.”

“And yet it is not a new development.”

She must’ve been able to feel his gaze on her. So bright that his desire for her burned.

He wondered...

Did he truly fear her response to him... Or his own to her?

He had no idea what thwarted desire was.

If he wanted a woman, she had always wanted him in return.

The power of being desired had always flowed his direction.

When his focus had been for sale, he had taken satisfaction in the fact that people were willing to pay handsomely for a chance to have him. If he could not find desire for the person buying his services, he could at least manufacture arousal from the rush of power he felt at their desperation.

But to want someone who looked at him and recoiled...

He never wanted to be one of those people. The one so desperate for the touch of the person they desired that they would beg. They would pay.

It could never be him. Never.

He would live a life alone. He would live a life of celibacy before he debased himself.

And perhaps that’s what all this was. A fortress to avoid that level of debasement.

His refusal to leave until he had secured himself a bride whose beauty far outstripped his own was certainly evidence of that.

“There are things about me that are far more interesting than how I look,” he said.

She seemed to consider this. And then she looked up, her eyes unerringly finding a camera he knew she couldn’t actually see. And yet...

She was looking at him.

Like she could see him.

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