Page 44 of Always Eros

“Have you had alcohol before?” Eros asks.

“No.”

“Okay, we’ll take it easy then. This is my favorite drink.” He hands me a glass and holds his up between us, so I mirror his action. “A toast. To freedom.”

Smiling, I nod. “Yes, freedom.”

Eros bumps his glass against mine and then drinks. I take a sip, immediately blown away by the explosion of flavor on my tongue. It’s fruity and sweet, but there’s something earthy and rich in the finish.

“This is delicious.”

“Isn’t it?” Eros’s cheeks get a little color in them, and his eyes are so vivid they almost seem to glow in the dim club lights. “Would you rather dance or find a table and talk?”

“Dance.”

“Perfect.”

With his free hand, he takes mine and leads me to the large square on the floor filled with people writhing against each other. The air is electric—heated and humid like after a summer rain. Many of the men are scantily dressed, with plenty of skin showing. There are cropped shirts, shorts or skirts, clothes with mesh or slashes in them.

One man in particular catches my eye. He’s wearing a shirt that looks like a net and very short, shiny shorts. I can see part of his butt cheeks. When he twists around to face me, I see the makeup on his face as he bumps his butt into the man behind him.

“Men can wear makeup?”

“We can do anything we like, Justice. Do you want to wear makeup?”

“I don’t know.” I laugh shyly. “I only know what it is because they showed us pictures of earthly women. Women who let the demons into their lives. But none of that is true, is it?”

“No. Makeup is just for fun, and it’s for anyone who wants to use it.”

Nodding, I step closer to Eros. “I have so much to learn.”

“Remember what Carina said. You don’t have to learn it all tonight. This place is just one experience. One microcosm of society.” He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me into him. “There are people in regular life who follow religions that don’t allow self-expression either. Your cult was extreme, but not alone.”

I nod, pushing away memories of all the lessons and talks we had. That was my old life. This is my new one. “Let’s just dance.”

Eros finishes his drink in one gulp, then sets the empty glass on a nearby table. I do the same, laughing as the liquid tickles my throat. Then Eros grips my hips, moving them back and forth to the beat.

“What is this music called?”

“You’d have to ask Thorn. I don’t follow pop culture. All I know is that it sounds nice and allows me to be close to you.”

As we find a rhythm, moving closer and closer until no space remains between us, I shut out the rest of the world. Only Eros and I exist, and I hope that by the end of the night, he’ll make me his completely.

Eros keeps his sensual gaze locked on my face, filling me with all kinds of good emotions. I can feel that he wants me, and I hope he can feel the same from me.

As the song changes, Eros leans in and kisses me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, in front of all these people! My chest swells with pride that he wants all the men around us to know that I’m his and he’s mine.

Suddenly, I don’t want to dance anymore. I want to get naked with him.

“Please, Eros,” I whisper against his lips. “I want you so bad.”

He slides his hand to the back of my neck as he presses our foreheads together. “Gods, I want you too.”

“Then have me. I’m saying yes. I know what I want. Please don’t make me go home without it.”

He pulls back enough to meet my pleading gaze. “You’re sure?”

“You’re not taking advantage of me. How can I prove it?”

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