Chapter 13
POSEIDON
Eating Cordelia’s sweet, wet pussy had juiced my brain like an orange; my cock was like a stone monument—unyielding—balls aching.
The moment her towel dropped, my pulse shifted into overdrive, throbbing to the frenzied beat of my heart.
As my gaze roamed her naked form, I basked in the sight before me.
Firm, lush breasts tipped with dusky rose nipples, that tasted sweet and sinful on my tongue.
Her luminous ivory skin, silky and warm, and her bare pussy and delicate curves were a paradise I wanted to visit every day.
Her tattoo snared me the moment I saw it—a black dahlia entwined with blue, shadow fused with serenity, bound as she was bound to me.
Green butterflies scattered through the petals, fragile, fleeting, yet defiant, like freedom refusing to die.
I traced it with my mouth, slow and claiming, until her shiver told me the truth—this wasn’t just ink; it was her soul, laid bare in colour and bloom.
I stepped into the shower and closed my eyes as the cold water hit my shoulders. It did nothing to calm the blaze under my skin. Her naked body was mouthwatering—intoxicating. She was a goddess cloaked in human fragility. No other woman had ever affected me as she had.
I curled my fist around my painfully hard cock and groaned, taking a tortured breath as I pictured her climbing up my body, nude and glorious—her tits bouncing, eyes glazed with lust; her soft, ivory skin warm under my fingers; I’d almost exploded there and then.
I stroked myself—slow, hard pulls from base to tip, bracing my other hand on the tiled wall.
The scent of her arousal still lingered in my nose—her taste on my tongue—making me growl low in my throat.
The first taste of her wetness was incredible… like cherry blossom and fucking madness.
I continued fisting my hard length, with slow, firm strokes that made me shudder as I pictured Cordelia’s full lips wrapped around my cock again.
My eyes closed with pain and pleasure as I pumped harder, breath ragged, and as the base of my spine gathered and jerked, I came with a low, guttural roar—her name on my tongue and obsession in my blood.
I’d tasted her jealousy over the flight attendant—burnt sugar, once sweet, now scorched and bitter, clinging to her like smoke. She wants me, every inch of her screams it, no matter what lies spill from her lips, and I would make her admit it, one way or another.
Cordelia is wild, dangerous, fucking loud… and perfect. I marked her tonight. She thinks we’re even… that this is over.
She’s wrong. This is just the beginning.
She’s mine… and I never let go.
* * *
Cordelia appeared a good eight hours later, just before breakfast. She wore tight, black shorts and a fitted sleeveless top, with her heavy-duty leather boots, thudding softly against the floor. A belt with a large silver buckle hugged her hips… and gods, did my mouth water at the sight.
After a curt ‘Good morning,’ she took the seat opposite me and opened her eBook, her attention fixed.
When the flight attendants appeared with the breakfast trolley, her eyes lit with unmistakable joy.
She ate like a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound warrior, devouring two helpings of omelette with spinach, bell peppers, and mushrooms alongside a blueberry & banana power smoothie.
As she chewed, my gaze fixed on her lips, the way they moved, soft and sensual, and my cock stirred to life.
What in Hades was this woman doing to me?
When she finished, she sipped her coffee and buried her nose in her book again.
As he ate, Ajax’s eyes drilled into the side of Cordelia’s head, glaring at her like she’d pissed on his grandmother’s grave.
He’d questioned me, again, about allowing her to live, but had dropped the subject when my fingers closed around his throat in warning.
He backed off, muttering something about betrayal.
I understood his concern, but if he laid one hand on her, I’d rip out his heart and hand it to him on a plate.
He knew without a doubt not to touch her.
‘What’s the book?’ I asked, lifting my coffee cup to my lips.
Her eyes shot to mine, her cheeks flushing slightly. ‘Erm, a fantasy romance.’
I raised my brows. ‘I do believe you’re a secret romantic, little assassin.’
‘Pfft. Not a chance. Book boyfriends are great. Real men? Not so much.’ She shrugged. ‘I read them for the sex. This one’s a reverse harem or “why choose?” trope. They’re my favourites.’
‘Why choose?’ I had a sinking feeling the answer was about to piss me off.
‘Yup. One woman and three men.’ She gave me a satisfied grin, and my jaw clenched.
‘Is that a fantasy of yours?’ I tried to keep my voice even, but the thought of another man laying a hand on her made me question my sanity for a moment. I’d rip his cock off and choke him with it.
‘Nah. Not really,’ she said, wrinkling her nose. ‘It’s just fun to read.’ My temper abated, and I grunted, sipped my coffee, and let the subject drop as she went back to reading.
We landed in Greece a couple of hours later, and a black limousine was waiting on the tarmac.
Cordelia appeared with her luggage, a backpack, and a knife in a holster strapped to her thigh.
Her hair was braided over one shoulder, wisps of flaming-red framing her face.
Gods, I hoped I wasn’t drooling—she looked magnificent. She was so damned beautiful.
My angel of sin. My angel of death.
As we descended the steps and walked onto the runway, I tuned to my acolytes.
‘Perseus, Ajax, take the limousine and luggage to my house. I’ll meet you there.’ They bowed and departed. As I reached for Cordelia’s hand, she stepped away.
‘Are we walking?’
‘Nope.’ I gave a predatory smile. ‘I need some time alone with you, Little Red. You still need punishing.’ I murmured darkly as I grabbed her.
‘Oh, no you don’t…. argh—’ Her words were silenced when a vortex of swirling mist and seafoam engulfed us as I flashed us through the aether to my home.
She stumbled as we landed, looking rather green around the gills. ‘What the godsdamned-deep-double-fried fuck was that?’ She pulled her blade from the holster with a shaky hand and pointed it at my throat.
‘Travelling through the aether. Like teleporting,’ I said, laughing, but the grin vanished when a roar shattered the stillness.
‘Assassin!’ My brother’s voice.
Shit.