Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
MAYA
T he girls are fighting and it’s hilarious.
Leaving the club is a vague memory. I remember half-stumbling to the door, toes barely touching the floor as Ares supported my weight. His barreling progress was only momentarily halted by Dani stepping in our path to press my wrapped-up dress into my arms.
“Can’t leave something this expensive behind,” she cheekily commented.
I had laughed, but Ares just grumbled for her to get the fuck out of the way. That just made me laugh harder.
The drive back to the palace must have lulled me to sleep because I wake with a jolt at the sound of raised voices.
“Where the hell have you been? She was supposed to back here hours ago.”
The world sways in a blur of colors and sounds, but I can recognize the apartment from smell alone.
I squint my eyes open to see Poe approach us, decked out with weapons like he’s playing one-man army. Was he about to go out searching for me? With the world all bright lights and shiny colors, that almost seems sweet.
I wonder if there’s more of that special beer here somewhere.
Or I could just go back to sleep.
“She just wanted a break from the palace,” Ares insists.
Poe doesn’t hold back the sound of his anger. “I couldn’t even fucking track her.”
“I turned off my location data,” Ares admits.
“Are you fucking serious?”
“I figured we’d be back before anyone noticed. I was just trying to do something nice.”
Ares sounds like a little kid explaining to his teacher why he arrived late to the class. I think about him trying to squeeze his oversized hulking form into a desk built for a child.
That makes me giggle hard enough that the sound comes snorting out my nose.
“Is that what you’re going to tell Logan when he finds out?”
“Depends. You planning on telling him?”
Poe sighs and I hear the distinctive sound as he rubs his hand across the stubble on his face. “Where did you even take her?”
Ares shrug bounces me in his arms, sending a brief wave of nausea through me. “Just out.”
“Liar, liar,” I sing-song, poking Ares’s chin with a wobbly finger. “We went to the fighting place. I learned how to pin down an Alpha. Pretty sure she let me win, though.”
“You took her to Dani’s, didn’t you?” Poe’s voice is dangerous. “Is she fucking drunk?”
“I swear she only had two drinks. I don’t know what the fuck happened.”
I giggle and press my face against Ares’s neck. He smells so good. I bet he tastes almost as good as the honey beer. “Mmm, you’re delicious.”
“Fuck, she can’t even stand up.”
“I can too.” To prove my point, I wiggle until Ares reluctantly sets me on my feet. My knees immediately buckle. Poe catches me before I hit the floor, his hands gentle but firm on my waist.
“This is more than alcohol. What did you give her?”
“Nothing.” Ares throws his hands up. “It was some special beer the bartender had. I didn’t know it would affect her like this.”
I squint up at Poe’s serious face. I reach up to touch his cheek but miss completely. “Your eyes are so pretty. All dark and watchful.”
When I sway again, Poe has to catch me tighter around the waist.
“Logan isn’t back yet, so just let me put her to bed,” Ares suggests. “By rights, it should be my night with her, anyway.”
“One thing first,” Poe murmurs as he swings me around and sets me down on a nearby chair.
He takes a second to steady me when I sway to the side before backing away.
Then he hauls off and punches Ares square in the jaw, hard enough that the larger man is sent flying against the wall.
“Disappear with her again and I’ll rip your balls off with my bare hands. ”
Ares pushes off the wall with a grumble, rubbing his jaw where Poe’s fist connected.
“Duly noted,” he mutters, shooting a dark look at Poe before turning his attention back to me.
I’m still swaying in the chair, the world spinning in lazy circles around me. Ares approaches cautiously, like I might bite. Or vomit on him. Both seem equally possible right now.
“Come on, princess. Let’s get you to bed.”
I giggle as he lifts me into his arms again. “I’m not a princess. Not yet. Logan hasn’t married me.”
“As good as,” Ares says, carrying me down the hallway toward his bedroom.
The motion makes my stomach roll.
“Don’t drop me,” I mumble against his chest, breathing in his bourbon-chocolate scent. It’s comforting in a way I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Never,” he says, his voice unusually gentle.
When we reach his room, Ares nudges the door open with his foot and carefully sets me down beside the bed. The world tilts dangerously, and I grab his arm to steady myself.
That’s when I see it.
At first, the shape of pillows and blankets on the bed just seems strangely chaotic. The mounds have an odd structure and are messier than any Omega, even in the wild throes of heat would create, but it’s still obvious what it is.
A nest.
The memory of it is suddenly at the forefront of my mind. Ares comforting me during that stage of heat that was so early I didn’t even know it was happening. His attempts to help me were fumbling, inexperienced and entirely genuine.
Something inside me cracks open, and before I can stop it, tears flood my eyes and spill down my cheeks.
“Maya?” Ares sounds alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick?”
I shake my head, unable to speak through the sobs that rack my body. I sink to my knees beside the bed, pointing at the messy nest.
“You...you kept it,” I finally manage, my words slurring through tears.
Ares looks between me and the nest, clearly confused by my reaction. “I...yeah? It was nice. Smelled like you.”
That just makes me cry harder. The lingering effect of that damn honey beer has temporarily dismantled all my carefully constructed walls, leaving me raw and exposed. I can’t even explain why I’m crying. Is it because he made the nest in the first place or because he kept it.
“Hey, hey,” Ares crouches beside me, his large hands hovering awkwardly near my shoulders like he’s afraid to touch me. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I can get rid of it if you want.”
“No!” The word bursts out of me, surprising us both. “No, don’t get rid of it.”
Ares settles on the floor beside me, his expression bewildered. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
Neither do I. I’m crying over a pile of blankets that represents the moment my freedom was stolen. Yet I can’t bear the thought of him destroying it.
“It’s just...” I hiccup, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “I’m really tired.”
Ares’s face softens, and he tentatively wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
“In the nest,” I whisper. “Not just the bed.”
“In the nest,” he agrees, helping me to my feet. “Just a nap before dinner.”
As he gently pulls back the covers, careful not to disturb the general shape, I realize I’m still clutching my bundled dress from Dani’s. The fabric is cool against my tear-heated cheeks. Ares gently takes it from me and sets it on a nearby chair before helping me onto the mattress.
I curl onto my side, still crying, though I couldn’t explain why if my life depended on it. Ares sits on the edge of the bed, making the mattress dip.
With the weight of him pressed to my back and the comfort of our combined scents wafting up from the sheets, it’s hard to remember why I’ve put so much effort into resisting this.
I wake to a fluttering sensation between my thighs, my mind still adrift in dreams. Gentle waves lap against my skin, warm and rhythmic. The pleasure builds slowly, radiating outward from my core in pulsing waves.
Something isn’t right. The sensation is too real, too precise.
My eyes snap open as consciousness crashes over me. The room is dim, evening light filtering through half-drawn curtains. I’m still in Ares’s room, still in his nest, but I’m no longer alone in it.
Ares is between my legs, his face buried against me, his mouth working with determined focus. My pants are gone, leaving me exposed from the thighs down. His large hands grip my thighs, holding them apart as his tongue traces patterns that make my breath catch.
I should scream. I should kick him away. I should be furious.
But it feels so good.
Instead, my body arches toward him, seeking more of the pleasure that’s already building to a crescendo. I’m right on the edge, so close that stopping now would be its own kind of torture.
“Ares,” I gasp, my voice barely a whisper.
He looks up, his green eyes meeting mine. There’s no surprise in them—he knew I was waking up. His mouth doesn’t stop its movement, and the sight of him watching me while his tongue works against my most sensitive spot sends a jolt of electricity up my spine.
“What are you—“ My question dissolves into a moan as he increases his pressure, his focus unwavering.
My hands find his curls, fingers tangling in them. I don’t know if I’m trying to pull him away or hold him closer. My body has made its own decision, hips lifting to meet his mouth.
“Let go,” he murmurs against me, the vibration of his words adding to the sensation. “Just let go.”
The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave, crashing over me without warning.
My back arches off the bed, a cry tearing from my throat as pleasure pulses through every inch of my body.
Ares doesn’t relent, drawing out each wave until I’m trembling, oversensitive, my hands now definitely pushing at his head.
He finally pulls back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression is smug, satisfied.
“What the hell was that?” I demand, my voice shaky as I struggle to catch my breath.
“Good morning to you too, princess.” He sits back on his heels, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Or should I say good evening?”
I scramble to pull the sheet over my exposed lower half, suddenly aware of my vulnerability. “You can’t just—you didn’t ask?—“