Page 60 of Heroines of Olympus

The woman closes the distance between their faces and Icarus doesn’t hesitate, lifting her head to meet her halfway, their lips coming together with so much passion, Icarus is certain hers are scorched when they separate. Desire soars through Icarus’s body. This feels like a mirage. What Icarus envisioned as a night of drinking, dancing, and some flirtation is rapidly spiraling into something magnetic.

As Icarus allows the woman to lead her off the dance floor, through the crowd, and out of the ballroom, her pulse races, pounding in her ears. Going off with people Icarus does not know is likely a bad idea, but she can’t bring herself to care, at least for this night she will follow this woman anywhere. Consequences be damned.

Neither of them says a word as they continue along several long, dark hallways until they reach large, ornate double doors.

Inside is the most lavish bedchamber Icarus has ever seen. This woman must be important. Something in the back of her mind says again she should know this woman. A part of her is screaming with familiarity, but Icarus is too enraptured to listen or care.

All the furniture in the room is white with gold accents. Vases with flowers in varying shades of pinks, reds, and whites flood the room with a divine scent. The four-poster canopy bed is in front of an open air window that takes up the entire wall. Icarus can see all the way to the bay and the view is magnificent.

Icarus is still standing in front of the window when the woman walks up behind her and puts her arms around Icarus’s waist from behind. The gesture is so intimate, but it feels right. Icarus sighs and leans back into it and the woman’s lips kiss the nape of her neck. Icarus gasps at the touch of soft lips on such a sensitive spot.

Icarus turns around to face the woman, and their lips meet. A whimper leaves the woman. Why is this sensual stranger so affected by her? Icarus opens her mouth, and the woman does the same, their tongues meeting, sending a shock to her soul.

The inclination to take off the woman’s mask, or her own, is strong, but Icarus hesitates, not wanting to break the spell. Instead, feeling emboldened, she reaches for the strings holding her dress together behind her neck, untying them and letting it fall to her feet.

The woman inhales sharply at the sight of Icarus wearing nothing but her mask.

Cupping Icarus’s cheek in her hand, a tear rolls down her cheek. Before Icarus can ask why she is crying, the woman’s mouth is on hers again. She is kissing Icarus with a desperation that her own soul mirrors.

The woman backs her up to the bed, kissing Icarus deeply the entire time.

Once Icarus is sitting on the edge of the bed, the woman steps back again, taking her fill of the sight of Icarus’s naked body. After a moment, the woman reaches behind her back, unzipping her own dress and letting it fall to the floor.

The woman’s body is jaw-dropping. Her tight, petite curves are both soft and sexual. Stepping back up to the bed, she guides Icarus back to the headboard, straddling her once they are at the head of the bed. Pale blonde hair cascades down around Icarus, mixing with the golden blonde of her own hair.

Icarus groans as the woman kisses her deeply again, pulling away only to trail kisses down Icarus’s neck and collarbone, lingering between her breasts over her heart. The woman’s hands are roaming up and down Icarus’s torso, sliding her hands down Icarus’s hips and then slowly up her inner thigh.

Icarus raises her hips to meet her, needing the woman inside of her. Is she really in a stranger’s bed not even an hour after meeting them? Is this woman really a stranger?

The woman’s fingers make their way inside of Icarus, and the thought dissipates instantly. First one, then a second, and finally a third. The sensation is cataclysmic and Icarus sees stars when she closes her eyes, a soft moan escaping her lips.

The woman pumps her fingers in and out in a slow but steady rhythm that has Icarus’s breath catching, an orgasm building faster than ever. The woman puts her thumb on Icarus’s clit, driving her over that cliff in the blink of an eye.

When Icarus finally opens her eyes, she looks over to see a steady stream of tears on the woman’s face and Icarus’s heart crumbles for her, sensing a deep hurt.

She wipes her tears away and turns back to Icarus, then pauses before finally saying, “I will explain tomorrow, I promise. If you will allow me tonight, I will explain everything.”

Icarus doesn’t know why she trusts this woman, but with her whole heart, Icarus tells her it is okay, and she means it.

They take their time in each other’s arms, the party lost from their thoughts entirely as they touch and kiss each other anywhere and everywhere.

An abrupt knock on her door interrupts them entirely too soon.

The woman curses and throws on a white silk robe, looking ethereal with her bed-mussed hair and lust-hooded eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

After conferring with whoever came to bother them, the woman slips back into bed with Icarus, a conflicted look on her face.

“Will you wait here? I have to go attend to something urgent but I will be back in an hour, two at most. You can use the hot spring pool in my bathing chamber, and read any of the books I have lying around. I can even have some food and drink brought in for you,” she says, her tone hopeful.

Icarus isn’t due to report back to her detachment until noon tomorrow, and does not hesitate.This evening is hers and she will offer every second this woman wants to take. She nods, “Yes. I’ll be here.”

Relief washes over the woman’s face, and she quickly throws on a much more simple gown than she had worn for the party. She leans over and gives Icarus another deep kiss.

She leaves the room, muttering something about sending up refreshments anyway, and Icarus thinks she heard something else. It sounded an awful lot like, “I can’t believe I found her.”

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MEDUSA

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