Chapter Four
“Great Hades,” Rune whispered.
We were back at my apartment. Rune had been impressed by the amount of space I had, and we hadn't even made it to the fourth floor yet. I'd already given him a tour of my living room and the library on the second floor, which was technically the first floor of my apartment. The first floor of the building was the art gallery. After that, we went up to the third/second floor where my kitchen and art studio were. Rune had loved all my paintings so far, but this one—my arch nemesis, as I liked to call it—had stopped him in his tracks.
Rune stood before the paint-splattered easel and stared at the canvas propped on it. A man stared back at him through the slits of a helm. Most of the painting was of him. His armor had been a particular pain in my ass. I was still working on the details, and I couldn't understand why. I'd paint something, it would feel wrong, and I'd have to go over it. But his face, I'd gotten right away. Those eyes were haunting. I understood why Rune was fascinated by them. They were in shadow because of the helmet, but a beam of sunlight slashed across them, bringing their color to life in glints that made the eyes appear to be glowing. Blue. They were a turquoise blue.
The color complemented all the blood.
“What battle is this?” Rune asked, his stare moving past the warrior to the scene beyond.
No one stood behind the man. There were only bodies littering the ground. He seemed to be the lone survivor. I suppose that's why I felt a kinship with him. Everyone I cared for—except for Hermes—eventually died, leaving me to feel like the lone survivor in a war.
“I don't know,” I said as I stepped up beside him. “I saw it in a dream. It kept coming back until I painted it. But I can't get the details right.” I shook my head. “If I knew what battle this was, I'd be done with it already.”
Rune's face twitched. He glanced at me. “Can't you just make something up? It's not a research paper. Art can be anything.”
“I know.” I shook my head and turned away from the painting. “But this painting won't let me. That's why it's still on the easel. It feels as if it will remain unfinished forever.” I sighed, then muttered, “Like me.”
Rune came up behind me, close enough that I could feel his body heat. I stopped walking. His jacket brushed my back, but he still didn't touch me.
He did, however, lean down to whisper in my ear, “We're all unfinished. That's called life, Lora.”
I turned to look at him. The motion dragged my breasts over his chest, and his sharp inhale thrilled me. He was just as affected by me as I was by him. What a relief. I set my hands on his hard pectorals. Rune moved forward, leaning into my touch. Then he bent his head and stroked my lips with his.
Instead of kissing him, I stepped back, but I also drew a hand down his chest, over his belly, then made a sharp right to take his hand. I turned and headed for the stairs. The steps creaked and the narrow stairwell was cramped with him in it, but the journey up to my bedroom felt momentous. I had to grip his hand tightly to keep mine from shaking.
And then I was leading Rune down the corridor, past the bathroom to the door at the end. We entered my bedroom and kept going. Through the shadows, over the thick rug. I clicked on the bedside lamp and revealed a room of dark wood and antiques. Everything there was old, although none of it was as old as we were.
Rune didn't even glance at the Victorian chaise near the fireplace or the Art Nouveau set of a couch and chairs near the window. The room had no theme other than what I liked. And yet, everything worked. From the Chinese wedding bed to the Tiffany lamp. But the only thing he looked at was me.
Rune's head lowered. Another brush of his lips on mine. This time, he came back for more, pushing forward, nudging my lips apart before tentatively flicking his tongue out.
I grabbed his shoulders, hauled him against me, and shoved my tongue in his mouth.
With a groan, Rune lifted me off my feet. His tongue met mine, slashing and fighting its way forward until he was the invader. Meanwhile, his hands ran over me, locating the zipper of my dress. It slid down. Fabric parted. Hot fingers slid over my bare back.
I drew out of our kiss to slip the dress off. Lips parted and wet, Rune stared at me with the focus of a hunter, his eyes following the movement of my hands before deviating to go up and over my body. I undid my bra and tossed that aside too. He swallowed visibly and licked his lips, focusing on my nipples. Before I could reach for my panties, Rune dropped to his knees and yanked me forward by the hips. Latching onto my left breast, he sucked and rolled my nipple over his tongue, groaning.
Great Gods, it felt good to be held like that—standing before him, my lower half held tightly as he laved and sucked on me. My hands went to his head, fingers weaving through his hair. So silky. I wound up stroking him as I arched into his mouth, things getting sensitive and wet on me. As if he could sense my need, Rune slipped a finger around the edge of my panty and delved into my sex.
I cried out and shook against him, angling my hips to guide him to where I needed him. But Rune didn't need guidance. He found my clit in seconds, drawing liquid up from my center to rub slick circles around that bud. Only when I shuddered did he slip that finger back inside me.
“Oh, fuck,” Rune groaned, and he slowly pumped his finger. “You're dripping over my hand.”
“And you're still dressed,” I said it like an accusation.
“Mmm,” he murmured around my nipple. He gave it one last lick, then pulled away. I thought he would stand then, but he only moved to my other breast, his hand still working me below. His thumb had replaced his finger over my clit.
“Rune,” I panted. “Rune, I'm going to come.”
He made a happy sound, his free hand pulling me closer—steadying me.
With a vibrant shriek, I fell apart, crumbling into his arms. Rune caught me and somehow managed to keep rubbing my sex as he took all my body weight.
Rapture rode me so hard that I didn't realize Rune stood up until he laid me on the bed. A traditional Chinese wedding bed has carved walls with extensive decoration and many of them, like mine, have little antechambers with a seat or table beside the bed. A sort of room within a room thing. But the mattress section of the bed is always small. I had my bed altered, and a framework built across the antechamber so I could fit a larger mattress. And thank goodness for that. If I hadn't, Rune and I wouldn't have fit.
As it was, the length was almost too short for Rune. He eyed the bed warily as he stood within the opening and stripped. I wasn't worried about it. I knew the dimensions of my bed, and I was quickly learning his dimensions. As he glanced at the detailed carvings that went straight through the panels to let in light, I examined him. His jacket had gone as soon as he entered the apartment, but now his shirt was off as well, and I could enjoy the spread of his smooth pectorals, sculpted by Hades himself.
Hermes had once told me that Hades was vain and put hints of himself in every Cerberus he made. After hearing Rune talk about his creation, I concluded that Hermes was only partially right. Hades had used his blood to create Rune's body. Perhaps that had resulted in a resemblance. If it had, then the God of the Underworld must be a stunning man.
Rune's pants fell to the floor. The boxers beneath were simple white cotton, and that was the proper choice. I didn't want anything drawing my attention away from Rune's glorious body. Not that anything could. A fire could have started, and I wouldn't have looked away. That hard belly with its inward navel. The teasing dips at his hips. His corded thighs. And he had a tattoo of a spearhead on his hip. It was odd, like a trident except with two points, and beautiful. The shaft went down a few inches, ending just before the crease where his thigh met his torso. It enhanced the entrancing dip there as well as his hard abdomen, forming a border for those rippled muscles. I loved artwork on a man as long as it was done right. This was done right. Simply magnificent. Rune's erection was pretty incredible too. And then he hooked the waistband of his boxers and pushed down.
As soon as he was bare, I shoved my panties off and tossed them through one of the bed's windows, wanting them as far away from me as possible. Rune grinned and crawled onto the mattress, his shaft bobbing below him, promising me all sorts of delights. I laid back and, as he slid between my legs, I opened them for him.
“Great Gods, you're beautiful,” Rune whispered before he kissed me again.
Tremors ran down my spine. My hips slammed upward, seeking relief. If he didn't enter me soon, I was going to die—immortality or not. Rune groaned into my mouth, one hand holding his chest up while the other massaged my breast. That wasn't enough. So, I wrapped a leg around him and pulled.
“I don't think so.” He stayed where he was. Then, with that wicked grin, he moved down my body, spreading my thighs even wider.
“Don't bother with that,” I growled. “Just get inside me.”
Rune's green eyes went wide and his hand clenched on my thigh. “Fuck, woman. You nearly made me come.”
I chuckled. “Don't do that either. I have plans for you, Rune Demos.”
“As I do for you,” he growled. “And I'm not letting you rush me.”
He lowered his head.
I screamed. It felt as if all I was disintegrated but in the best way. Pleasure shot through me like an atom bomb, obliterating everything that wasn't rapturous. Shuddering and clawing at the bed and Rune, I came with that first touch of his tongue. But he only groaned and settled in to feast.
All strength gone, I fell back onto the pillows, limbs going loose, and laid there in stunned ecstasy as Rune Demos, Hound of Hades, lapped at me and licked at me and consumed me until there was nothing left.
Then his tongue slid inside me.
“Fuck!” I cried, suddenly finding the power to move.
No, it wasn't a return of strength. It was an automatic response. Like when a doctor taps your knee with a rubber mallet. Rune had just tapped the right spot, and my muscles responded by clenching and flinging me about without any instruction from me. I couldn't stay still. His tongue was a live wire. Rune growled again, the sound adding even more pleasure to the mix, and held me down.
“I can't,” I panted. “No more. Please.”
At last, Rune took mercy on me. He rose onto his forearms and grinned with wet lips. It was an odd look. Possessive when it shouldn't be. Claiming. And it called to something equally possessive in me. I wanted this man. For much more than one night. And he hadn't even slid inside me yet.
Rune got to his knees and hooked my right knee over his arm. I opened to him, wet and aching. But I needed to open further. I wanted him to see all of me and take it all. So I set my left foot on the bed and spread myself as I lifted. Rune made a low, delighted sound deep in his chest. Then he took that long, golden shaft in his free hand and rubbed the tip through my sex, parting me. My head tossed as zings shot up my belly. He prodded. Found my entrance. I went still, only my stare moving to lock on his cock. It went forward, splitting me. Entering at last. My body sucked at his, pulling him in deeper.
At last, Rune grunted and shoved.
“Fuck!” I shrieked, my hips rising to take even more of him. “Oh, fuck!”
Rune leaned forward, hooking both of my legs over his arms now that he was inside me. With my knees over his elbows, he set his hands on the mattress to either side of me and slammed forward. I looked up to find a savage creature above me. Face twisted in lust, eyes full of hunger, and teeth bared. Rune pumped faster and faster, his body filling my channel. Stretching me. Taking while giving.
I shuddered and dove head-first into another orgasm. As if he'd been waiting for me to crest, Rune locked up against me, tossed his head back, and came. He barely made a grunt, his throat clenched so tightly that it restricted sound and his head bent back to expose that rigid line.
With a shuddering gasp, Rune fell forward, catching himself on his forearms. My legs fell to the bed, and I stared up at him as we both panted.
“We're doing that again,” he said.
“I'll give you five minutes to recover,” I shot back.
“I'll be ready in three.”
But Rune was a liar. It only took him two minutes to regain his erection.