She allowed herself to lean back against his broad chest while he massaged her, his hands moving over her body in the ritual she’d long denied herself. Vivienne knew she should tell him to stop because what she felt was anything but sacred and holy. It was hot and dark.
Her nipples were tight, stiff peaks barely concealed by the water. If she tilted her body just so, arched her back, he’d see and part of her wanted him to see her need, to fill her desire without her asking him or commanding him.
When his hands worked over her hips and thighs she couldn’t suppress the moan of delight.
“You should stop,” she managed. Vivienne ached. It was as if every sensor had focused on his touch and was drawing it down to her needy cleft.
“The veneration of flesh displeases you?”
“It isn’t what it should be.” Her voice was a hoarse whisper. Vivienne knew her confession was cryptic, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell him his touch aroused her. The way he touched her was supposed to be adulation for the vessel—for her office. For her power. Not for her as a woman. Although, it was well within her rights and even expected of her to use her personal guard in such a way.
He stopped then, but didn’t move away from her. “Have I offended you in some way? I only seek to serve.”
“No, Hector.” She swallowed. “It’s nothing you’ve done. You are all that a knight should be. All that the elite of Avalon should be.”
Emotion welled sticky and vitriolic. She always said she refused to feel guilt, but that was a lie. A lie she told herself again and again until it had hardened around her like stone, but all it took was a little light to shine on her desires and it crumbled around her, leaving her bare and vulnerable.
Vivienne felt wholly unworthy.
Yet all of that slipped away when he touched her again. His breath was ragged against her ear; the solid wall of him behind her both comforted and aroused her. He kneaded the flesh of her thighs and worked his way to her belly, his broad and strong fingers so close to the center of her need, but so damn far away.
Hector tightened his grip on her, pressing her flush against him so she could feel his hard cock jutting up against her. “No, Vivienne. I’m not without sin. I covet. I lust.”
He wanted her! This was everything she’d wanted; only it wasn’t with the right man. It wasn’t Arthur. Hector was handsome and strong, kind-hearted. But he was so young, he was Lance’s friend, and she wasn’t in love with him.
Even though she knew this would be the best sex of her life. He knew just how to touch her. Her body wanted him and her magick wanted him, even though her heart didn’t.
“I’m in love with someone else,” she blurted.
Hector pushed his fingers down her belly and between her thighs as if she hadn’t even spoken. He slipped them inside her cleft teasing the engorged bud of her clit. “That’s my penance for lust. Coming on my cock instead of his is yours.”
His words made her blush. They were such a trespass, forbidden. Hector did indeed have a kind heart, but he had the mouth of a satyr.
Hector didn’t wait for her permission or her protest, he hauled her up against him and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He supported all of her weight with his forearm and that in itself was a turn on. He could break her like an autumn twig, but instead he used his strength to bring her pleasure.
It was Vivienne who initiated their kiss, tentatively brushing her lips over his as he carried her to shore. Her magic flared, their energies twined and his strength infused her.
Vivienne’s power soared, she’d never felt so alive, so potent. When using her personal guard, it was supposed to symbolize the joining of the god and goddess. She’d denied herself so long because the needs of her body weren’t to increase her magick; they were for a more earthy satisfaction.
She was more than the Lady of the Lake. Vivienne was a flesh and blood woman with the same needs as all creatures.
Hector wanted her. She wanted him. There was no reason to deny them both.
He pushed her down in the wet sand, ripples of the warm water lapping at her feet as he kissed her, tasted the arch of her neck, the rosebud peak of her nipples.
When he buried himself inside of her and he brought her to the edge, one name was in her heart and a whispered benediction on her traitorous lips.
“Arthur,” she cried out as Hector sent her spiraling over the edge of pleasure.
11
ARTEMIS
M ordred wasn’t kidding when he said that he meant to be in the bed.
He’d failed to mention that he slept naked.
Artemis did her level best to act unimpressed, but she’d never actually been in such an intimate situation with a man. She kept finding herself choking back this stupid little titter that wasn’t quite a giggle.
Which irritated her to no end. If she could’ve slapped some sense into herself without looking like a complete idiot, she would have. She wasn’t some teenager looking to score. She was a goddess grown who’d made a decision about her body and her life.
So why couldn’t she grab it—him—by the balls and just say what she wanted? She could tell he liked what he saw when she’d been naked in the shower. Why did they need the hunt? It wasn’t as if she wanted it to be a regular thing.
Of course, having that option might be a good thing, she thought as she stole a glance at him only to find he was looking at her with those supernaturally gorgeous eyes.
“Straight to the pillow talk then? I do want to go to sleep sometime tonight.”
“How would I prevent you from going to sleep?”
“You were looking at me. Have you ever tried to sleep with someone staring at you?”
“Mordred, you have to understand I’m going to be curious. I’ve never slept next to a man before. Of course I’m going to stare at you,” she blurted.
“Now I’m curious.” He propped himself up on his elbow. “How is it you can be eternal and not once have been overcome with passion? Or even loved someone enough to spend the night next to them?”
Artemis blushed, but quirked a brow. “Eternal? Are you making reference to my advanced age?” She’d never had anyone say anything of the sort to her before.
“Your age is a fact, my lovely. I didn’t say you were a withered hag. I only said that you have existed for a long time without one of the best things our creators have given us.”
Something about him made her want to be honest. That went against the plan Aphrodite and Morgan had laid out for her, but this was Artemis’s experience. She’d have it on her terms.
Well, mostly honest. She wasn’t quite ready to tell him that she wanted him to punch her V-card. Artemis was still a little afraid of the deed. Gods hadn’t always been kind to females, be they mortal or immortal. It was why she’d asked her father to remain a virgin forever.
Though she was just beginning to realize that forever was a long time to spend alone.
She bit her lip.
“Oh, this is going to be good if it makes you blush and bite your lip.” He flashed his white teeth at her in a smile.
“The last man who pursued me,” she paused and took a deep breath, “I turned him into a woman. After that, no one was interested.” She waited for him to push her out of the bed, or for him to de-materialize, or run screaming. Most men found what she’d done to be the ultimate trespass, even though her former swain would’ve forced himself on her if she hadn’t taken drastic steps.
He didn’t run, Artemis found that comforting, although his next question startled her.
“Is your interest in women, then?”
“That’s kind of a personal question.” And not one she expected.
“Sorry,” he said, although he didn’t look it in the least. “I’ve never had a conversation with a virgin before.”
“So because I’m a virgin, you assume I’m a lesbian? Really?” She eyed him. “Wait, you’ve never had a conversation with a virgin? Ever?”
“Not to my knowled
ge. I don’t generally speak to women I don’t fuck. Except my mother.”
“That’s why I’m a virgin.”
“Because I don’t have conversations with women?”
“Not you in particular, but that mindset.” She pulled the blanket up closer to her chin like it was some kind of shield.
“So you think everyone who has sex should be in love?”
“No. But they should respect each other.”
“What does the banal minutiae of my day or yours have to do with how fast I can flick my tongue over your clit?”
Her eyes widened as she thought of him doing just that. “Nothing, but it implies you don’t care about my day.”
“That’s not what I said.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Hmm. Interesting.”
“What?”
“I think having my tongue in your bits is more intimate than idle chit chat about people who have nothing to do with us, but you think I should waste our time together talking about people and things that aren’t relevant.”
“They are relevant because they affect me. If we’re in a relationship, even a casual one, you should care about what affects me.” Zeus, how had this gone from a what-if conversation about two nameless, faceless people to being about them and what it would be like if they were together? She was in deep.
“That’s probably why Circe and Medusa voted me off the island,” he said, still no remorse evident in his voice.
“You were sleeping with both of them?”
“At the same time.” He smirked.
“Hmm. Interesting,” she tossed his words back at him.
“How so?”
“You can’t maintain a relationship with one woman, so you try for two. Did you think that maybe they’d fulfill emotional needs for each other that you’re not capable of filling?”
“Artemis, trust me when I say that I’m capable of filling anything that needs it.”
“Another reason why I’ve chosen to remain chaste. We were having a serious discussion and as soon as I touched something you didn’t want to deal with you had to turn it back around to your cock.”
“I’m a man. Everything is about my cock. That’s just how we’re wired. Maybe you should go to spend some time with Medusa and Circe. In fact, I’d pay to see that.”
“Who said we’d let you watch? You know, you’re pretty, but you’re a dick.”
“I’m honest. And it’s not always pretty. Truth is one of the sharpest blades in my arsenal, but the ugly truth is always better than a beautiful lie, don’t you think? I mean, look at Camelot. It was a lovely dream, but built on the foundations of a lie that weakened it, couldn’t hold it up when it was beset by evil and it crumbled to dust in the pages of history.”
“That’s what happened? I thought you and Gwen knocked it down.”
“Oh, I was born to destroy Camelot. That was my purpose to exist, but I never would’ve been born if my father had been a righteous man.”
“No one is perfect. Even the righteous fail,” Artemis countered.
“They do. So what’s the point of all that denial of self, trying to make yourself into something you’re not only to stumble and fall on your face?”
“To be better than what you could’ve been.”
“To what end?”
“I don’t have an answer for that.”
“If they’d indulged their desires honestly, with no judgment, do you think Camelot would’ve fallen?”
“Eventually. Nothing is meant to last forever. Not ideals. Not people. Not even gods.” Not even her virginity.
“So don’t you think it’s time you tried something new?” His words echoed her thoughts.
“Oh, Mordred.” She laughed. Artemis had almost fallen for it, but the huntress in her made her competitive. This was why she couldn’t be honest. He played the game too well. He’d have had her twisted around his finger. She couldn’t let him shift the balance of power or she’d be screwed. “You’re good. All of this serious discussion. The intimacy of sharing our deepest thoughts. But if you think you’re man enough to be first, it’s going to take a lot more effort than that.”
“I’d be disappointed if it didn’t.” He didn’t look the least bit sheepish that he’d been caught. He even had the nerve to ask, “So, how about you just let me hold you tonight.”
Artemis snorted so hard she almost choked on it. “That’s the line you’re going with? You do know that I’m the goddess of childbirth too, right? You know how many babies I’ve helped deliver who started out as a just-let-me-hold-you? Plus, you’re naked under that blanket.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’m not going to do anything to you that you don’t ask me to do.”
She narrowed her eyes at him.
“I don’t fancy becoming a woman.” He winked at her, but when she scowled at him he spoke again. “I’m a libertine and a hedonist of the worst sort, but I like my partners willing.”
“All you want to do is hold me?” Artemis looked at him, derision curling her lip.
“I didn’t say that’s all I wanted to do, but it’s all I’m asking for. You’re in my bed after all. The least you could do is keep me warm.”
“That’s what you’re going to go with to get into my pants?” Considering his reputation as a master of his craft, Artemis found this attempt to woo her to be sadly lacking. There had to be another angle.
“Artemis, who said I was trying to get into your pants? You’ve been all of these firsts for me.” He grinned. “I think I want to turn over a new leaf. We should be friends. I’ve never had a woman friend.”
Oh, you have to be shitting me. She decided to turn the game back on him. Maybe just a dash of that honesty she was flirting with. “So you don’t want to be first? That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just have to ask your dad. He’s the carnival ride all the women come to Avalon to see, right?”
He appraised her. “Looks like I’m a bad influence. Whatever makes you happy, princess.”
“I’m not a princess. I’m a goddess.”
“You may be a goddess, but you’ve been indulged like a princess.” He smirked and then said in a falsetto voice, “Oh Daddy, I’m scared of the big, bad, men. I want to be a virgin forever.” Mordred eyed her. “And Daddy indulged you, didn’t he? You never had to learn about the world or the people in it. Never had to feel what humans feel, even though you have dominion over them. You get to sit in judgment, even though you’ve never felt what we feel.”
Ouch. That stung. “I’ve decided I don’t want to be your friend.” She rolled over.
He laughed, the bastard. He was actually amused.
“I mean it. I don’t like you.”
“Good. Does that mean the pillow talk part is over and I can sleep without you staring at me?”
“You’re not that interesting to look at anyway.” Liar! He was so beautiful it hurt to look at him, and she didn’t want to stop. Until his mouth started moving. “I like you better when you don’t talk.”
“See, now we’re getting somewhere. That’s how I feel about anyone I sleep with.”
“You’re insufferable.” She’d changed her mind. No way was she giving it up to this overstuffed, pompous, pile of satyr crap. No way. No thank you. Artemis was going to call Aphrodite and see if she could set up a meeting with Aeron and in fact, first thing tomorrow, Artemis was going to get a room at the resort.
“Surely I’m not all bad. I can introduce you to Arthur, if you really want to ride the ride as you so eloquently put it.”
“Shut up. Sleeping.” Of course she was doing nothing of the sort. Artemis lay there, on that overstuffed pillow, in the lap of luxurious comfort as frothy as a rabid dog. She probably wouldn’t sleep at all, but she be damned if she was going to get up and leave because he’d win.
“I’m just trying to be helpful, new friend.”
“You’re an asshole.”
He laughed again. “Sweetheart, you haven’t played this game. Did you really
think you were going to beat me in the first round?”
“The same way you thought all that faux intimacy was going to work?”
“Hey, I was just trying to build a bridge. To friendship.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
“Fine. We’re friends. Shut up. I’m tired.”
“I win,” he crowed.
“For now.”
“For always.”
“You’re like a woman; the way you have to have the last word.”
“Just putting my stamp of ownership on the conversation.”
“If you don’t shut up, I swear by Zeus I’m going to smite you.”
“I’m immune to magick.”
“Smiting isn’t magick.”
“No? Prove it. Smite me right here. Right now.”
“Oh, you think I won’t?” She flipped over and sat up.
“Yeah, smite me hard.” The corner of his mouth curled up in a devastating smirk that made her want to kiss him.
So she did.
Artemis pounced on him like a great cat of prey and smashed her mouth into his before he could tell her no.
He kissed her back and she suddenly understood what all the fuss was about. Shooting stars, fireworks, symphonies… Yeah.
Only, he broke the kiss much too soon with a look of abject terror on his face. Instead of odes to her lips, or poetry about her sweet kisses, he said, “Son of a bitch.”
12
GWEN
Gwen changed her mind no less than thirty-four times.
Both about going to Arthur’s for lunch and what she would wear. She decided not to go four times because she had nothing to wear. Or nothing that looked good on her.
After comparing herself to Bimbo Number One and Bimbo Number Two, she couldn’t even stand to look in the mirror.
It was just as well they were out of gelato at the market. Her ass couldn’t take it.
Why couldn’t the extra weight have gone to her breasts? They could use a little more heft and a little more lift. She sighed.
Really, she wasn’t being overdramatic when she said that nothing in her closet would do. She had to be very careful about the image she presented or everyone on Roundtable Lane would be gossiping and speculating about poor little Gwen crawling back to Arthur.
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