30. Artemis
ARTEMIS
From the way Eloise and Caliban were arguing in my living room, you’d have thought they’d known each other for years instead of minutes.
Caliban sniffed delicately. “Restraint is not the same as depth. The later adaptation is far more thematically rigorous.”
Arthur leaned over. “What are they discussing?”
“Something nerdy and important,” I said. “We should probably leave before it gets violent.”
Eloise’s eyes flicked toward us then, sharp and far too perceptive. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face.
“Well,” she said, setting her glass down with sudden decision, “this whiskey is tragic.”
Caliban looked mildly offended. “It is perfectly acceptable.”
“Acceptable is not the same as good,” she said briskly, already grabbing her coat. “I have better at my place.”
Caliban hesitated. “Your place?”
“Yes,” she said, linking her arm through his before he could object. “Come argue with me over something worth drinking.”
He allowed himself to be steered toward the door with the long-suffering dignity of a man who suspected he was being maneuvered but hadn’t quite decided if he minded.
Eloise paused in the doorway just long enough to glance back at us, her expression bright with mischief. “Don’t wait up.”
The door shut behind them.
Arthur and I stood there for a moment in the sudden quiet.
“Well,” I said.
“Well,” Arthur agreed.
In my bedroom, everything felt suddenly quieter. Closer.
I turned on a lamp and started changing into my pajamas, peeling off the clothes I had borrowed from Arthur and worn all day. I was mid-motion when Arthur made a low growl behind me. I froze.
“Artemis,” he said with barely contained emotion. “You are magnificent.”
I looked over my shoulder. He was standing there like I had just done something extraordinary instead of very basic. His eyes were dark with desire, and my stomach fluttered in response.
I had never felt magnificent before, but when he looked at me like that, it felt true.
He crossed the room in two long strides, then stopped right in front of me. One finger lifted my chin, so I had to look at him, then drifted slowly down the center of my chest, like he was taking his time on purpose.
“I want to make love to you properly,” he said. “In a bed. Where I can take my time.”
My heart stuttered. “We’ll have to be quiet. My walls are super thin. Eloise even hears when my microwave dings.”
His mouth curved in that slow, dangerous way that made my knees weak. His finger traced just a little lower, just enough to make the point.
“I can’t promise that,” he said, then he kissed me deeply. My hands went straight to his shoulders, and we melded together. I felt how much he wanted me, how my body affected him, when his erection pressed hard against my abdomen.
I’d never felt so powerful.
I pulled back just long enough to look at him. “How did this even happen?”
“I don't know,” he said. “But I’m very glad it did.”
We kissed again, and this time I did not hold myself back at all.
I fell into it, into him, into this strange, impossible version of my life where I was wanted and loved and somehow magnificent.
His mouth claimed mine with a mix of urgency and care that made my heart tug.
I felt like he was kissing me not just because he needed me, but because he couldn’t believe I was here.
His hands slid up my ribcage and closed over my breasts. I bit back a sound as his thumbs teased my skin. His tongue was insistent yet gentle as it invaded my mouth, tasting every corner of it with desperation. My heart raced in my chest as his hands moved down to cup my ass, squeezing tightly.
He stepped back then, looking me over with dark eyes that held a hunger I couldn't ignore. "You’re so beautiful." He breathed out roughly before pulling off his shirt and tossing it carelessly on the floor without ever taking his eyes off me, as if he was afraid I might disappear if he did.
Then he was on me again, pressing me back against the wall.
One hand slid up my spine, while the other palmed my breast. His fingers worked there, slow and deliberate, drawing another sound out of me that I could not quite stop.
He leaned in, kissing along my jaw, down my neck, until his mouth found my ear, his teeth gently grazing my skin.
He reached behind my thighs and lifted me with easy strength, bringing me up against him. I wrapped my legs around his waist without thinking, moaning when his erection pressed exactly where I needed it.
His hot breath fanned across my neck as he whispered, "Feel how much you’ve already affected me?"
My nervousness disappeared under wave after wave of lustful desire, and I nodded shakily. “I need you, Arthur.”
He carried me to the bed and laid me down like I was something precious. The look on his face made my heart pound just as hard as my body.
“Spread your legs for me, Artemis,” he said softly. “Let me see all of you.”
I did as he asked, feeling exposed and exhilarated at the same time. He crawled between my legs, his dark eyes never leaving his target as he spread me with his fingers and dipped inside me. My body responded immediately, clenching around him.
He moved his finger in and out of me, while he watched his work with hungry eyes. “So perfect. So ready for me.”
He kept his finger moving as he leaned down, kissing along my thighs, slow and reverent, before working his way higher.
He paused for a moment as he stared at me up close.
I would have felt shame if his eyes didn’t show total adoration.
Then his tongue was on me, and a strangled cry slipped out me.
He licked one long stroke from my entrance to my clit.
His finger returned to its dance inside of me as he slowly added another one, rubbing and stroking in rhythm as he took another lick, then plunged his tongue inside me.
It felt like fire, but the best kind of burning.
I couldn't hold back the moans this time, they tore from my throat like cries for help.
He slowly moved his other hand up my body and to my mouth where he inserted two fingers. “That’s my girl,” he whispered against me when I gently nit down on them.
He groaned and thrust his tongue inside of me again along with his finger, curling perfectly around my G-spot as he added another finger. My body was close to exploding.
He sucked on my clit as he curled his two fingers upward and pressed on that glorious spot. A wave of pleasure crashed over me, taking my breath away with a scream that was muffled by his fingers against my tongue.
“Let go for me, my love.”
I did as he asked, my body shaking from the force of my orgasm.
It wasn’t enough. I needed more of him. More of the way he looked at me. More of the way he touched me like I was something precious instead of something temporary.
He moved over me, settling his weight in a way that felt grounding and intimate all at once. When he lined himself up with me, it felt like everything inside me went quiet, waiting.
“Please,” was all I could say, and he listened.
He pushed into me slowly, filling me, and the sound he made was low and rough like it had been pulled straight from his chest. I felt him everywhere, felt the way our bodies fit together in a way that made sense on a level deeper than thought.
“Artemis,” he breathed, his forehead resting against mine. “I love you.”
The words hit me harder than anything else had. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
“I love you too,” I said. “So much.”
He began to move, careful at first, then deeper, like he was trying to say everything he felt with the way he held me. Every movement made me feel more open, more full, more alive.
“You feel like heaven,” he said quietly. “So warm. So tight. So perfect.”
The praise went straight through me, through every old doubt and fear I had ever carried. Tears stung at my eyes, not from pain, but from how right it all felt.
“Arthur,” I gasped. “Please don't stop.”
“I wouldn’t,” he said. “Not for anything.”
He moved with me, our bodies finding a rhythm that felt like belonging.
There was nothing else in the world but him and the way we held each other.
When it finally overwhelmed us both, we clung to each other, breathless and shaking.
We collapsed in a tangle of limbs and heartbeats, still holding on, still not ready to let go.
Arthur pulled me closer until there was no space left between us. My leg was tangled with his, my face tucked against his chest, his arm wrapped around me like he was afraid the world might try to take me back if he loosened his hold.
“Artemis,” he said quietly. “I want you. Not just like this. Not just now. I want you forever.”
My heart did a strange, soft lurch.
“You are my mate, but I want to do it right,” he continued, his hand moving slowly over my back. “I want to earn your love. I want you to choose me, every day, not because you have to, but because you want to.”
I tilted my head so I could see him. “I do choose you.”
He looked at me like that mattered more than anything. “I want to court you,” he said. “I want to take you everywhere you have ever wanted to go. I want to give you the kind of life you thought only existed in books.”
I smiled, soft and a little overwhelmed. “That sounds lovely. But the place I want to be most is right here. In your arms.”
His mouth curved in something like wonder.
“Then,” he said, careful and hopeful all at once, “would you choose to be my mate?”
I brushed my thumb along his jaw, feeling the quiet strength there. “I already chose.”
And he held me like it was the best answer he had ever heard.
The words were barely out of my mouth when something inside me shifted.
Sudden and certain, like a door clicking into place that I had not even realized was waiting to be closed.
Arthur felt it too. His hand tightened at my back. His eyes widened, just a little.
“Oh,” he whispered.
A deep, steady warmth spread through me. It was like being anchored after a lifetime of drifting. I could feel him in a way that had nothing to do with skin. A quiet thread, bright and sure, tying us together.
Stunned, I laughed softly. “I think… something just happened.”
He smiled, slow and full, like he was seeing something beautiful he had always hoped for but never dared to expect.
“Yes,” he said. “The bond.”
I pressed my forehead to his, feeling that new connection hum between us. Not trapping. Not taking. Just choosing.
It did not feel like being claimed.
It felt like coming home.