Chapter 27 Sexual Tension & Other Drugs
SEXUAL TENSION Augustus’s hips pressed against the right side of my body, and Kharon’s were flush against my left.
Badump-Badump-Badump.
Kharon’s calloused fingers rose to my collarbone and feathered over the diamond necklace—he dragged his nails up to my jaw, leaving a wake of fire, then wrapped his hand around my neck.
His skin was burning.
Tchaikovsky waved his conductor’s wand, and the cello played.
The sensitive skin on my neck prickled where Kharon was touching me.
“Good girl,” Augustus whispered hoarsely.
A droplet of sweat dripped slowly between my breasts.
Kharon’s fingers tightened around my throat infinitesimally.
Unable to stop myself, I reached up and traced my hand across the hard ridges of his chest.
Kharon groaned, fingers relaxing as he moved his hand down to my sternum, while his lips ghosted over the side of my neck in barely there kisses.
Everything was hazy, in a warmly delicious, scream-into-the-abyss-and-tear-at-your-scalp-while-you-spiral, hellacious sort of way.
Augustus wet his full lower lip.
I reached up and tangled my free hand in his long hair. It was shockingly silky.
Augustus surged forward—he kissed my open mouth, his tongue plunging deep—I tugged his hair, and a tortured growl ripped from his throat.
He tastes like lightning.
Kharon dragged his teeth down the side of my neck, then lapped at the aching flesh. My hand dipped lower, trailing over his torso.
Augustus kissed me harder—and I yanked sharply on his hair. He snarled, teeth nipping at my bottom lip.
Kharon bit down on the side of my neck, and I shivered, fingers splaying across his lower stomach—he panted as he kissed the mark he’d left.
It feels like we’re fighting.
“Enough.” Augustus’s voice cracked like a whip as he pulled away—yanking Kharon back with him. “Alexis will sleep in the bed, and we’ll worry about our arrangements later. We can’t afford to be distracted. We need to rest right now and mentally prepare for the opening ceremony.”
I struggled to catch my bearings.
Kharon tipped his head back to look at the rock ceiling. When he lowered it, his pupils were blown wide, black consuming the ice blue of his irises.
An otherworldly solar eclipse.
Augustus tossed his crown onto the bed and raked both his hands through his hair as he shouted a curse, his body taut.
The calm, composed man was gone, and the ferocious heir to the House of War seethed before me.
Kharon frowned, his eyes narrowed as he watched Augustus struggle. In reverse of their usual roles, he grabbed Augustus by his shoulders and shoved him into the bathroom.
The door slammed shut behind them—crash—and the walls shook, dust falling from the ceiling in a cloud.
Grunts and swears echoed.
“Calm the fuck down and stop panicking!” Kharon shouted as another crash rattled the wall.
“Not … helping.” Augustus’s muffled voice shook, like he was gasping.
I sagged against the shaking wall. Head spinning, thoughts scattered, I slid down to sit beside my sleeping protector, patting his head.
Poco chittered, his little black fingers touching my arm gently, and I gave him a shaky smile. He nodded his furry head, like he understood that I was trying to keep it together, then he climbed up and curled into a lumpy gray ball on my lap, purring.
The hellhounds lay behind Fluffy Jr.’s butt, pressed against the wall, barely fitting.
“He … big dog,” Hell said in his strange, scratchy voice as he tipped his head toward Fluffy Jr. “He … okay.”
Hound nodded in agreement. “We … together … all good.”
“Of course,” I whispered to them, infusing my voice with confidence. “Everything is going to be alright.”
The whiplash of power, imprisonment, fear, and then lust was making it hard to focus on any one thing.
Sparta will not break me.
There was only one thing to do in this type of situation. I pulled out my calculator and clicked the recorder.
“Dear Diary,” I whispered.
“I’m scared Fluffy Jr. is sick. Kharon and Augustus don’t scare me … but I’m afraid of how I feel around them. The gladiator competition is starting early, and I haven’t figured out how to wield my power. Yesterday, my hands glowed with a bright light. I don’t know what any of it means.”
With a shaky exhale, I pulled the recorder away from my lips.
Toggling through my settings, I found my saved work and lost myself in the numbers. I graphed until my neck hurt and my fingers went numb.
Time lost all meaning.
Guard voices echoed outside—Kharon and Augustus came out of the bathroom, their expressions perfectly calm.
You would never know they’d been fighting.
Clang. The cell door slammed open and Nyx hissed.
I hastily tucked my calculator away and lifted Poco off my lap. Batons sparked brightly in the dim light as guards stood framed in the doorway.
“It’s time for the opening ceremony,” Vorex said, wreath gleaming atop his head. “Come with us.”