TWISTED (Eternal Guardians Book 7) (33 page)

She excited him, amazed him, aroused him in ways he never expected. Every sound she made, every time she trembled, every ripple of pleasure that rocked her body… It all made him hotter, higher, made him feel so fucking alive. “Come all over my cock, Cynna. Fuck back into me. Mm, yes. I need to feel you come all around me. I need it right now. Give it to me, baby.”
 

She rocked back again and again, taking him deeper, squeezing him tighter. And just about the time he thought he wasn’t going to be able to hold out any longer, she threw her head back and cried out. Her body shook, and her sex pulsed and rippled around him with the force of her orgasm. And knowing she was coming, knowing he was giving her exactly what she needed made his own orgasm shoot down his spine, detonate in his balls, and rocket through every cell in his body.

Pleasure arced through every limb, raced along his nerve endings, and exploded behind his eyes in a flash of heat and light. Her pussy continued to clench around his cock as his orgasm went on, milking him of every last drop of erotic bliss. When it finally ebbed, he realized he was breathing hard, his body was covered in a layer of sweat, and he was lying across Cynna’s back, pressing her into the hard table.

He pushed up on one hand and looked down at her. Her cheek rested against the surface of the table, damp hair stuck to her temple, and her eyes were closed. But the Cheshire cat grin tugging at the corners of her mouth told him loud and clear that she’d enjoyed that. Every single moment.
 

Gently, he drew back, pulled free of her body, and tugged up his pants. She cringed as his sticky skin separated from hers.
 

“Oh my gods,” she muttered. “I can’t move. I think you broke me.”

He chuckled. Couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like laughing. Rolling her to her back, he tugged on her limp arms until she sat up. Her eyes popped open. Her brow furrowed as she focused on him. Before she could think up another excuse why she needed to leave, he pushed his way between her legs, wrapped his arms around her slim waist, then lifted her from the table and carried her toward the couch.

Her warm palms landed on his shoulders. “Nick—”

“Don’t fight me right now.” He sat on the couch and leaned back into the cushions so she was draped over him. Then he reached up, pressed her face into the hollow between his shoulder and throat, and tightened his other arm around her back. “Just let me hold you for a few minutes.”

“
Skata
,” she whispered against his throat. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t be all…sweet.”

He guessed no one had ever been sweet to her. Maybe her parents, but they’d been gone so long, she probably barely remembered what it was like to have someone care.
 

He ran his hand down her dark hair, loving the soft texture, loving the way she sank into him and felt so right. Closing his eyes, he breathed in her intoxicating jasmine scent mixed with the heady aroma of their sex, and relaxed even more.

He needed this. Her, keeping him centered, giving him something real to focus on. When he was with her, he could push everything else to the back of his mind—what his father wanted from him, what was wrong with his soul mate, what had happened to his people. When he was with her, he felt grounded. In a way he never had before.

He trailed his fingers down the soft, delicate length of her spine, then back up again. And as he did, he remembered the marks on her caramel skin, which brought back a wave of those memories he’d caught in her mind only moments before.

“I don’t care what you did with Zagreus.”

Her breaths stilled against his neck.

“I mean,” he went on, “I hate the things he made you do that you didn’t enjoy, but I don’t hate that you did them. I can’t. Because I don’t want some virginal little princess.”

Slowly, she drew back and looked at him, confusion drawing her brows together to form a sexy little crease right between her eyes. “You don’t?”

“I never did. I can’t stop the soul mate draw, but that doesn’t mean I like it. Or that I’m excited by it. I’m not. What excites me is that.” He nodded toward the table where they’d just fucked each other blind. “What gets me hot is this.” He slid his hand down her back and squeezed her firm ass. “And now that I’ve seen those visions in your head, all I can think about is tying you up and doing them to you myself…my way.”

“Oh gods.” Her eyes dropped closed, and she pressed her forehead against his shoulder. “You saw that?
Skata
. I don’t like these new gifts you’re getting.”

He wasn’t inclined to agree. Some of them, like the ability to make her clothes disappear just by imagining her naked, were pretty damn cool.

“I wasn’t trying to pry. But you were projecting pretty forcefully. I couldn’t stop myself from looking.”

She groaned and pressed her forehead harder against his shoulder.

He ran his hand down her hair. “Don’t worry. I’ve already pushed your former boss out of these naughty little visions. But I can’t stop thinking about you wrapped all in rope, tied down with your legs spread, your skin flushed and covered in a thin layer of sweat as you wait to see what will happen next.”

She groaned again, and he smiled because even though he heard the mortification in her voice, her body was growing warmer against him, telling him she really did love all the same dirty little games he did.

His hand slid beneath her hair to massage the nape of her neck. “I guarantee with me, Cynna, you’ll enjoy every single thing I do. I love making you come harder than you ever have before. But most of all I love that my appetites arouse you, because they were part of me long before Hades and Zagreus got their hands on me.”

“This is so fucked up. You and me. It makes no sense.”

He closed his eyes and breathed her in, feeling calmer with every passing second. “Yeah, maybe. But it also feels right. And at the moment, I need as much right in my life as I can get.”

She turned her face into his neck and exhaled a long breath. And as he held her and the seconds ticked by on a clock somewhere in the house, he knew he couldn’t let her go. Not just because she soothed him, but because he didn’t want anything to happen to her. She’d risked her life to save him from Zagreus. He needed to make sure no one else—the Prince of Darkness included—ever hurt her again. The key was getting her to trust him enough so she wouldn’t run. And he could think of only one way to get her to do that.

“The scars on my back,” he said softly. “You asked me where I got them. I got them here.”

Her hand stilled its gentle rubbing over his collarbone. “Here?”

This wasn’t anything he’d ever told anyone before, and he didn’t like revisiting the past, but if it would convince her he was trustworthy, then he figured it was worth laying himself bare.

“My mother was a demigod. A warrior as tough as the Argonauts.”

“Atalanta?”

“Yeah.” She’d obviously heard stories about his legendary mother. “She was pissed when she wasn’t chosen to serve with the Argonauts. Made a pact with Hades for immortality and revenge. But she was foolish and didn’t consider the fact the god would double-cross her. She became immortal, like she wanted, but found herself confined to the Underworld serving Hades himself.”

“I know this story. Delia and the others used to tell it to the young of our settlement to warn against the follies of making deals with gods.” She huffed and shifted on his lap. “I clearly didn’t listen.”

A little of his anxiety eased. If she hadn’t made that deal with Zagreus, he wouldn’t be here with her now. In a sick sort of way, he was thankful she’d done that. Not that he wanted to think about thanking that son of a bitch too much right now, though.

“Yeah,” he went on, pushing thoughts of Zagreus to the back of his mind. “She built her army of daemons in the Underworld, unleashed them on the human realm, targeting Misos and any Argoleans, and plotted her revenge against the Argonauts. But it didn’t take her long to tire of her prison. There was only one way for her to escape. A loophole Hades put into the contract. A prophecy that stated that when two marked individuals—one human, one Argolean—were joined, it would create the perfect being, and she would be freed. Her daemons searched for the two for years in her attempt to bring them together but continued to fail. So, in a desperate bid to complete the prophecy herself, she sought out Krónos in Tartarus and made him yet another deal. She promised him that when she was eventually freed, she would then turn around and free him from his chains. All he had to do was help her create her own two ‘perfect halves.’”

“I know this as well. That’s how you and your brother were born. Krónos made her mortal long enough to impregnate her, then tricked an Argonaut into venturing into the highest depths of the Underworld where she, back in her immortal form, was waiting to seduce him. She was again impregnated, thus creating twins with different fathers. Superfecundation.”

He glanced down at her face resting against his shoulder. “That’s some story the witches shared with the young of your village.”

Her eyes tipped up, and her cheeks turned a soft shade of pink as she smoothed her hand over his chest. “That part Zagreus explained to me.”

Of course. Zagreus. He looked down at the coffee table and forced himself to go on. “Imagine Atalanta’s outrage when Demetrius and I were born and still weren’t enough to complete the prophecy.”

“I imagine she was pretty pissed.”

“Livid is an understatement. But she quickly adapted.” He held up his forearm so she could see the ancient Greek text that ran down his arms to intertwine his fingers. “Since we both bore the Argonaut markings, she decided to use us to infiltrate the guardians, knowing her dark link to us would be enough to influence our souls. Only she didn’t plan for the Argolean Council to get in the way.”

Cynna pushed back and looked up at him. “What does the Council have to do with you?”

“Argonauts have fathered children with females other than their soul mates for thousands of years. Rarely does one appear with the markings, but every Argonaut is duty bound to raise any offspring marked by the gods. Atalanta knew this, so after we were born, she sent us to Argolea. Demetrius’s markings were unique to his father’s line. Mine were less conclusive. As we were twins, his father was required to take us both in, but he knew from the start that I was different. And he despised me for it. He was a mean son of a bitch. Had a wicked temper. If you ever wondered why Demetrius is so sullen a lot of the time, I can tell you it’s not because Atalanta was his mother. It’s because of that bastard.”

“What happened?” Cynna asked, her brow drawn low, her gaze holding Nick’s as she straddled his lap.

“Nothing, really. He basically steered clear of me. Took his frustrations out on Demetrius whenever he felt like it. That caused a lot of tension between me and my brother at a very early age. Demetrius thought I was the favored son. The older we got, the darker his mood became. It was wrong of me to sit back and do nothing to help him, but I was just a kid, and at the time, I was thankful his father wasn’t pounding on me the way he was pounding on him.”

“No one could blame you for that,” she said softly.
 

Nick huffed, thinking about the brother he’d never seen eye to eye with. “Demetrius did. In a lot of ways, that animosity is at the root of our differences. Anyway, what he failed to see were the times his father would get this look in his eye and start to come after me, then change his mind and quickly turn away. I didn’t understand what that was about for a long time. Truthfully, I don’t think I really understood until I discovered Krónos was my real father. But he knew. Demetrius’s father was part witch. He sensed the power inside me, just as Delia did, and it scared him shitless. That’s why, when I was about ten, he finally turned me over to the Council to be cleansed.”

“S
kata
,” Cynna whispered, her gaze flicking over his bare shoulders. “The cleansing ritual.”

“Yep.” Being Argolean, she clearly knew what that entailed. A ritualistic whipping to banish sin from the body. The Argolean Council’s greatest gift to its people. “Usually reserved for unfaithful females but in this case inflicted on a ten-year-old boy who had no clue what he’d done wrong.” He pointed at the jagged scar on the side of his face. “I moved when I wasn’t supposed to.”
 

“Oh, Nick.” Pity filled her eyes. A pity he didn’t need or want.

 
His jaw hardened. “I’m not telling you this so you’ll feel sorry for me. I’m telling you so you’ll understand why I hate this place as much as you. When the cleansing ritual didn’t work, the Council grew scared. Someone with dormant gifts like mine, living in this land? That would forever be a challenge to their power. They wanted to kill me but didn’t know my true lineage and were afraid doing so might cause some kind of retaliation from the gods. So they banished me instead. Sent a ten-year-old boy off to fend for himself in the wilds of the human world. If I died on my own, well then, that wasn’t their problem, was it? But I didn’t die. I learned how to survive, how to hunt, how to protect myself. And when I came across other refugees, other Argoleans who’d been banished or who’d chosen to leave this so-called utopia on their own, I taught them and their children how to survive too.”
 

“Gods.” She relaxed back into him, laying her head on his shoulder, resting her hand on his chest, right over his heart. “That’s terrible. They’re monsters. Every last one of them.”