Authors: Kayleigh Jamison
His mouth twitched. “Giving up, Kat?”
“No, looking in one last place.” She jerked her head. “Take them off.”
“I can make you scream just as loud with them on.”
“I want my diamond.” She tried to push him over, tiny hands against his broad chest. Her nails raked his skin, leaving a trail of bloody red welts in their wake.
“This will never do, sweetness,” he said calmly.
She was lifted off of him by unseen hands and flung onto the bed. Before she could react, her hands were bound to the headboard above her, her feet to the footboard, leaving her splayed wide for his hungry, appreciative gaze.
“Asshole,” she snarled, blowing a strand of hair away from her eyes.
“I told you this was how I liked it, Kat,” he said with a shrug. The scratches she’d left on his torso only moments before were gone. He winked at her and pulled off his jeans, tossing them onto the floor beside the bed; teasingly close, yet impossibly far. “You should have known it was coming.”
“Come near me and I’ll bite your ass,” she threatened.
“Do you promise?”
“Fuck you!”
“That’s the plan, sweetness. Do you know when I first decided I wanted you, Kaitlin?” The warrior god stalked her steadily, confidently. Hell, she was tied to a bed, she couldn’t go anywhere. But he seemed to take great pleasure in letting her know just how completely she was at his mercy. “Do you remember Prague, 1997?”
She smirked. She sure did. She’d made three million dollars on that particular trip. “I had no idea you were a fan.”
“I’m not.” He towered over her, tipped her face up to meet his gaze. “The night after you stole the painting. Do you remember that?”
The smirk mutated into a scowl. Yes, she remembered that, too.
“How many of them were there? Three?”
“Four.”
“Three of them had guns.”
She nodded. She didn’t want to think about this at all.
“You let the last one live.”
Another nod. She’d cut off his balls with her pocketknife, but she hadn’t killed him. He was a nice, happy eunuch somewhere in
Eastern Europe.
“The rest you made suffer.”
“Fuckers,” she spat before she could stop herself.
“Most definitely,” Ares agreed. “You are a warrior, Kat. You remind me of my daughters, who were always more than happy to show a man his place.”
Daughters… Her mind worked furiously, running through her knowledge of Greek mythology for what seemed like the millionth time that night. “The Amazons.”
He nodded and trailed two fingers down her cheek. “So strong. Never afraid of anything, not even me.”
“Did you want to put them in cages, too?”
His fingers dipped lower, tracing her collarbone, down her arm. “Do you think a mortal man can appreciate who you truly are, Kat?”
“Who am I?”
“A warrior.” He brushed his hand over her nipple and she shivered.
“I sneak through the shadows, I don’t fight.”
“Oh, but you do. You fight everything, and you survive. Those men in
Prague, your mother. You’re fire on the inside. You’re the same as me.”
“I’m mortal,” she countered. Rather
a big difference there.
“At the moment.” He palmed one of her breasts, testing the weight in his hand. Then he climbed onto the bed and straddled her, leaning forward to capture her lips before sliding lower, and then lower still
, until his mouth was poised between her thighs. He really didn’t waste any time on foreplay, Kat noted with a smile. Neither did she.
M
inutes earlier, he’d been selfish in their encounter, but now he seemed hell-bent on her pleasure. She shivered in anticipation; his breath was an inferno against her.
“Well?” she peered down at him. He looked just as good between her thighs as she’d thought he would. “Do you need an anatomy lesson or— Oh, fuck…
”
Her sarcasm was cut short by his tongue plunging deep into her silken heat, moving
with firm strokes, in and out. She felt, rather than heard, the deep rumble of his laughter, and it sent vibrations through her sex that pushed her to the brink of release. She’d
never
gotten this far this fast. Damn, the man was skilled.
Just when she began to tremble,
and knew she was going to come, Ares pulled away, lifting his head to look at her. “How’m I doing, sweetness?” he asked.
“Jesus, don’t stop!” she gasped.
He chuckled and gave her a slow lick, smoldering the entire length of her. “What was that?”
“
Ares,
please!”
she shrieked. She was so fucking close…
He licked her again before attacking her clit, his tongue drumming an insistent
rhythm against the unsheathed bud. He pushed two fingers into her and hooked them upwards to stroke her g-spot. She came hard, the restraints biting into her wrists as she bucked against him.
Ares didn’t coax her through her orgasm, didn’t soothe her.
He crawled up her body, a predator stalking his prey. His cock pulsed against her, long and hard, and she whimpered.
He grasped her hair and jerked her head back, exposing her pale, slender neck. Ares ran his lips along the column of her throat, biting and nipping at regular intervals. Rough and hard, just the way she liked it.
“Ares,” she moaned. “Untie me.”
“I like you tied up, Kat,” he replied.
“But I want to touch you.” She met his gaze with a lusty one of her own. “
Please
.”
“Do you surrender then?”
She bit her lip. “Yes.”
“You’ll be mine?”
“Yes.”
The restraints disappeared
. She ran one hand down his stomach and curled her fist around his cock. The other she stretched out beside her, searching…
Got it
.
The vase connected with the back of his head before he could
react. He pulled back, dazed but still conscious, one hand flying to the wound, which was beginning to bleed. “Bitch!” he hissed.
Kat didn’t pause. She brought up her knee and shoved it into his balls as hard as she could. He rocked back farther still, taking his weight off of her pelvis. She flipped onto her stomach and crawled towards his discarded pants, which lay in a heap on the floor by the bed. Just a little farther…
Her hand closed around the denim of one pant leg just as she felt a strong fist clamp around her ankle.
Shit!
He yanked her back under him, but she managed to stay on all fours and take the pants with her, clutched between her hands in a vice-like grip.
He’s going to kill me. He’s going to—
Ares slid into her from behind
, hilting in one fluid motion. Kat keened loudly, and she heard him growl as he found his rhythm, fast and deep. No time for her body to adjust, no time to savor the new sensations.
“Give up, sweetness,” he groaned. His hands burned imprints onto her hips, her sex felt like liquid fire wrapped around his cock.
“You’re mine.”
She was fumbling with the jeans, searching for the pockets. Where were they? Oh, God, he felt good. He was filling her, stroking her in all the right places, and she felt a scream coil in the back of her throat, his name ready and willing on her tongue.
Pay attention! Find the diamond!
her mind shrieked at her, even as her body was responding to him, rocking backwards to meet his thrusts. She wasn’t about to give up, but she didn’t want him to stop, either.
He curled his body forward and one of his hands snak
ed around her waist to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves between her thighs. Kat fumbled with the jeans’ pockets, shoving her hand in first one, then the other. Nothing! She was going to come again, and she knew that if she couldn’t find the diamond before she did, he’d win. She’d lose that last bit of control that she had.
His cock pounded against her g-spot – unrelenting, merciless. Just the way she liked it.
His fingers stroked her faster, harder, assaulting her hypersensitive clit with a ferocity that had her whimpering, mewling his name. Then, just as her eyes began to roll, her head thrashing from side to side, she saw it, a small pocket sewn into to inside of his jeans.
There!
As the beginnings of her orgasm overtook her, she slipped one tiny hand into the hidden pocket and pulled out the small, blood red stone. He was a god – he was
her
god – but she had won. Kat screamed her release, and her triumph.
Ares roared. For a moment, Kat
again thought that he would kill her, but then he, too, was coming, bathing her womb in the molten lava of his release.
***
Kat opened her eyes, and was greeted by the soft, rosy hues of the dawning sun trickling in through the windows near the bed. Out past the island’s shores, the water rippled in oranges, pinks, and reds. The molten waves reminded her of the warrior god’s eyes.
Ares…
She sat up in the bed and turned, searching for him. He was gone – the other side of the bed cold and empty. How long ago had he left? Had he been real at all? Suddenly she wasn’t sure.
If it’s too good to be true, kiddo
…her mother always said.
Kat climbed out of bed and began the hunt for her clothing. She’d gotten naked with
someone
, the dull ache between her thighs was evidence that at least one thing about the previous night hadn’t been a dream. She caught sight of her reflection in the full-length, antique mirror by the door. A handprint graced her right hip, crimson and glowing. She twisted to the other side and found a matching print on her left hip.
Her dress reappeared on her body, hugging her curves,
curves which still burned in the aftermath of the warrior god’s touch. The stolen jewelry remained where it was, adorning her neck and wrist; she doubted it much mattered now if she flaunted her thievery. She turned to look at him – Ares stood just inside the door, leaning against the wall, one foot propped in front of the other. He was now clad in black leather pants and a black t-shirt sporting the logo of a little-known goth rock band. His eyes were a rich, chocolate brown.
“You said you would surrender.”
“Yea, I know.” The jagged edges of the Areopagus Diamond cut into her hand.
“You lied to me.” There was incredulity in his voice, a first.
“You’re the one who doesn’t lie.” She shrugged. “I never made such a claim. Besides, if I had surrendered, if I had stopped fighting, it would have gone against everything that you say I am. Would you have still wanted me?”
His silence was her answer. After a pause, he sighed. “Very well, you win. What was it you wanted? White picket fence, job, PhD, right?”
Suddenly, the things she’d longed for didn’t sound so appealing. Kids? An accountant for a husband? Puh-lease. She was always going to be a wildcat, whether she liked it or not.
“Actually,” she said, slinking up to him and wrapping a slender leg around his waist, “I’ve changed my mind about my wish. Unless, of course, that’s against your rules as well.”
“What would you like?” He lifted an eyebrow, eyes flaming.
She grinned and
dropped the diamond into his open palm, then pulled his head down to whisper into his ear, “I want you to cage me.”
A writer and musician at an early age, Kayleigh Jamison wrote her first novella at the age of seven, and first picked up a violin at eight. By eighteen, she had won several state and regional awards for the performance arts, recognizing her accomplishments in violin, viola, and oboe. Unable to resist the lure of the past, Kayleigh finds herself particularly drawn to certain periods of world history, and has spent extensive time studying Stuart Scotland and Tudor England, most specifically the reign of Mary, Queen of Scots.
Kayleigh loves to travel, and has spent time in such places as Scotland, Russia, and Peru. She currently lives in central Maryland with her two cats, Angel and Jack, and two rats, Reginald and Rupert.
To stay up to date with Kayleigh's writing, visit her author site at www.kayleighjamison.com