Breathe (TITANS, #2.5)

by Sotia Lazu

  Chapter Three

  Sitting so close to him made it impossible not to touch him. God knew she tried. But every so often, his arm would brush hers or his thigh would press into her leg, and her body would tingle with anticipation. Of what?

  Had he actually offered to show her his penis? Or were they really talking about shells? Oh—or was he offering to show her his penis because Pherusa was close enough to hear and he hoped to make her jealous?

  Christina’s food went from spicy to bland in the time it took that thought to form. She pressed her legs together, so she wouldn’t feel the warmth of his skin through the robe, and tucked in her elbows. The thought of being used as a prop for him to show off to another woman—a very taken woman—raised her hackles.

  She managed to make it through the rest of the meal with minimum contact. Thankfully, with so many people at the table, she could socialize without talking to him. The Nereid beside her was full of questions about life ashore. King Nereus would have trouble keeping this one in Vythos, if he didn’t already.

  Christina tried to keep her sigh of relief inaudible when the king rose from his seat, signaling the end of dinner. Christina hurried to stand and bow her head along with the others.

  “Thank you all for joining us tonight.” Nereus nodded toward the double doors of the ballroom, and two servants hurried to the table. “Please show our guests to their rooms.” To Christina, he said, “It was a pleasure meeting you. I will see you at breakfast.”

  Christina bit back her questions until he and Queen Doris were out of the room, and then turned to Olivia. “Rooms? Breakfast? You said it was just a visit,” she hissed.

  Olivia grimaced. “I thought it was. Apparently, Prometheus and Hyperion need to talk strategy with Nereus tomorrow, so we have to stick around. I guess Palaemon could take you back tonight, if you’re set on it, but really”—her eyes glowed—“when will you get another chance to be in a freaking underwater palace?”

  Christina couldn’t handle being alone with Palaemon again this soon. Besides, Olivia was right. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. She wouldn’t waste it because a hot guy was messing with her head and her hormones. “Okay. One night. But we’re leaving tomorrow after breakfast.”

  The servant girls—one with purple hair and matching eyes, and one whose hair was a light-teal color and her eyes the orange of corals—led Hyperion, Olivia, and Christina out the gilded double doors of the ballroom and across a shiny hallway to a winding staircase. The banisters on both sides were carved into intricate scenes of... orgies? Yes, those were no doubt bodies, twisted together. Cheeks burning, Christina turned her gaze ahead and hurried after Olivia and Hyperion, who seemed to know the way.

  Christina was the only one panting after the second set of stairs, and wasn’t too shy about clutching her side and heaving for breath. “Give me a minute, and I’ll be right with you.”

  “We’ve arrived.” The teal-haired servant—mermaid?—unlocked the first door on the wide corridor and handed Christina the key. “This is your room. The guest wing was built to accommodate humans, so it ought to cater to all your needs. Should you require anything else, pull the cord by the bed. Your friends will be at the end of the hallway. The king said you might want a few sets of walls between you, to assure a quiet night.” With a beaming smile, she spun on her heel and made her way back to the stairs.

  “Wait,” Christina called out. “What’s your name?” But the young woman was gone. The other servant led a giggling Olivia down the corridor, Hyperion scowling at their backs.

  “Goodnight,” Olivia managed. “We’ll try to be quiet.”

  Sure they would. Christina waved her off and cautiously pushed the door all the way open. Judging by the opulent ballroom, she expected the furniture to be carved out of coral, with gold liberally strewn across most available surfaces, but the humongous bed seemed made of driftwood, and the bright-blue throw pillows were the only color in the stark-white room. Despite the open space and sparse furniture—two nightstands, a vanity table with its mirror and stool, and an armchair at the far corner—it felt clean and welcoming, not sterile and faceless.

  She padded to the bed, the wooden floor warm beneath her bare feet[THE FLOOR IS ROCK. FIX IT], and took off her robe. The servant girl said this part of the palace was built with humans in mind. Did that mean it included indoor plumbing? The door to her left would hopefully lead to a bathroom, where she could shower. Did merpeople shower? Did people who lived underwater need to?

  Did Palaemon? She wouldn’t mind sharing a shower with him.

  No. Bad Christina. She should be thinking about the awesomeness of this place and how unbelievable it was that much of mythology was true and how it only took a touch by a witch for her to be fluent in Greek now. Not pining over someone else’s castoffs, especially when there could be no future between her and the—dreamy, incredible, magic—daimon.

  Like, what would happen if they did hook up, and she fell for him? She couldn’t leave her whole life ashore to come live down here. And could Palaemon even survive on land?

  She was overthinking this. Not like she’d see him again. Except maybe at breakfast. And when he took her back to shore. If he did. She was introduced to other daimons at dinner. One of them might be providing underwater-taxi services tomorrow.

  A knock at the door snapped her out of her Palaemon-shaped musings. She haphazardly threw the robe over her shoulders and hurried to get it. It would probably be Olivia, come to gossip about dinner.

  It wasn’t. Blue eyes that sparkled like sapphires looked down at her beneath a blue mane.

  “Palaemon?” she whispered. Was he here to show her his... cephalopod?

  He nodded. “I wanted to apologize for embarrassing you. It was not my intention.”

  His gaze challenged her, and she never backed down from a challenge. “I wasn’t embarrassed for me. I just wasn’t sure you’d want everyone at the table—especially Pherusa—to know what you’d said.” She watched him for signs of discomfort at the Nereid’s name, and her gut soured when she caught his tiny flinch.

  “Pherusa has nothing to do with this,” he said after too long a pause.

  So what was this? A one-time fuck with a human chick? “There is no this. Apology accepted. Goodnight.” She made to close the door, but he stuck his foot at the opening and shouldered his way in.

  “If there is no this, why are your cheeks scarlet? Why is your breathing shallow?” he asked. “I can hear the blood rushing in your veins, and I don’t even have amplified hearing. You want me, and I want you, and Pherusa has nothing to do with this.”

  Her traitorous gaze traveled down the glinting metal of his armor to the muscular thighs beneath it. Was he hard now? It must be painful, pressing against the unyielding plate that encased his pelvis and hips. She licked her lips, feeling parched, and backstepped inside the room to let him enter. “Show me.”

  Chapter Four

  This was insane. He’d only come over to apologize for being presumptuous. Christina was his king’s guest, and Palaemon had insulted her. He was here to fix this, because keeping the peace was part of his duty to the kingdom of Vythos.

  Instead he’d all but told the human he wanted to rut with her. And she was willing.

  She swept her tongue across her bottom lip again, and he forgot all about duty, as his cock strained to break through his armor. “If I show you, you’ll have to show me,” he heard himself say. It was only fair.

  Christina gulped and nodded.

  “Take off that robe.” Issuing orders came easily to him; he’d been a general for centuries.

  It should come as no surprise that Christina let the robe glide down her body and pool to the floor without hesitation. “Now you,” she said. Her nipples stretched the material covering her breasts—a material so thin, he made out the outline of her areolas.

  He shook his head, forcing his gaze back to her face. “Take off your top.”

  She hugged herself. “It’s yo
ur turn.”

  “Take off your top. Don’t make me say it again.” He expected her to ask, or what? or tell him to leave her room, but she dropped her arms and heaved a sigh before reaching behind her and undoing the straps holding the thing in place. It still clung to her, and he watched mesmerized as she peeled it off, leaving her creamy flesh uncovered.

  He wanted to taste her skin. Trap a nipple between his teeth and feel the hard peak with his tongue. Graze it with his palm before kneading her supple flesh.

  He wanted to own her.

  The need to claim her was overwhelming, let alone surprising. For years, he’d believed his feelings for Pherusa went beyond friendship; she’d been his responsibility and should therefore belong to him. Those feelings were tame, compared to the ferocity of his desire for Christina. He didn’t even know this human, but she was for him.

  She would be his. Tonight.

  “Still too many clothes,” he told her.

  She gave him a defiant look, the squaring of her shoulders pushing out her breasts. “Not until you take off that armor.”

  His hands tingled. He ached to cup her face and kiss her and spank her bottom for her insolence. “You’ve seen me fully naked. I won’t shed my armor until we’re even.”

  She turned her back to him, and for a second he thought she’d dismissed him, but then she leaned forward, hooked her thumbs in the elastic of her bottoms, and glided the scrap of fabric down her perfect legs. The curve of her ass arched toward him, and it was all he could do not to cross the distance between them and grab one cheek in each hand.

  Her panties on the floor, Christina straightened, stepped out of them, and turned toward him. The scarlet of her cheeks had spread down her neck and chest, but she held his gaze. “Well?” She spread her arms to the sides with the grace of an anemone. He’d known her breasts were perfect for his hands even before she was undressed, but he hadn’t imagined she’d be smooth and hairless between her legs.

  He trailed his gaze back to her face and her gorgeous blue eyes, such a different, paler hue than his. “You’re beautiful.” He didn’t mean it as a compliment; he was stating a fact.

  Her watery smile belied the confidence in her stance. “And you’re still dressed.”

  Her gaze followed his every move, as he undid the straps holding his breastplate in place, and bared first his chest and then his loins to her. His cock oozed a clear drop of precum and jerked toward her, as determined to be buried in her body as Palaemon was.

  Christina swallowed audibly, making no effort to look up from his shaft. “You’re hard.”

  “Have been since I met you.” He grinned. “While I was in human form, that is. You know—the one with a cock.”

  Her startled laugh sounded like music to his ears, but the silence that followed was awkward. The couple meters between them felt vast, and with every second that passed, crossing it became more difficult.

  “Now what?” Christina asked.

  There was only one possible answer to that. “Now, I take you.”

  She shivered, and her nipples puckered further.

  Palaemon didn’t wait for more of an invitation. He strode to her, buried one hand in her golden mane, and swept in for a kiss. She moaned the moment he touched his lips to hers, and opened up, her warm mouth inviting. He thrust his tongue between her lips, and she timidly massaged it with hers. His erection dug into her stomach, as she clutched his shoulders and pressed into him.

  She tasted of the sea anemone and sugar, and he wanted to savor all of her. Pulling on her hair, he arched her neck so he could nibble on her earlobe. “Remember my name. I want you to scream it when you come on my tongue.”

  She jerked back to look at him, and he waggled his eyebrows before grabbing her ass with both hands, lifting her, and tossing her back on the bed. Her hair fanned on the white bedsheets, and her skin was flushed, and she was more gorgeous than any nymph or Nereid or even goddess he’d ever laid eyes on. It made sense that he’d fall on his knees to worship her.

  He crawled on the mattress between her legs and used his arms to pin her thighs open while he brushed his lips across her naked mound. “So smooth.” Pointing his tongue into a spear, he drew a line up her slit.

  Christina pushed down against him, and he bit her inner thigh, making her squeal. He laved the tender flesh with his lips and tongue, and then returned to the part of her that had him drooling—her bare pussy. He lapped at her juices like they were nectar. Her sweetness sparked on his taste buds as he pushed his tongue inside her, augmenting his desire. He sucked on her clitoris, and Christina fisted handfuls of his hair and ground into his mouth.

  “You’re so good at this,” she muttered. “So good...”

  He’d meant to make her orgasm with his mouth, but he needed to be sheathed inside her tight pussy. Now. “Don’t come until I tell you to,” he said.

  “Typical male. Like these things happen on demand.” Christina’s eyeroll gave way to a naughty smirk, as he climbed up her body to give her another kiss. His cock nudged her entrance, and she tilted her hips.

  “I owe you an oral release,” he whispered against her lips.

  She smiled and pressed down against him. Oceanus, she was wet. Unwilling to restrain himself a moment longer, Palaemon drove forward, burying himself inside her in one hard push. Her walls closed around his length like a velvet fist, threatening to undo him.

  “I’ll hold you to that.” She scraped her fingernails down his arms hard enough to raise welts, and thrust her hips up to meet his next thrust. “Now fuck me.”

  Oh, his little mortal was a hellion. He smacked her thigh. “You don’t tell me what to do, female.”

  Christina growled and rocked her hips faster. She liked it hard. Good. He pounded into her, and almost came undone when she lifted her leg to wrap her arm around it. She was spread out beneath him, allowing him to go deeper.

  Her grin was feral, as she locked her gaze on his. He could get lost in the blue of her eyes.

  But the blue faded under a bright green that overtook her irises and spread to the whites.

  Chapter Five

  Palaemon froze on top of her. “What are you?” His wide eyes matched his bewildered tone.

  Huh? Ah—the leg thing. “Cheerleader. Was. In high school.” Why did he stop moving? She was hovering on the precipice of climax for the second time. Just a nudge would send her over. She clenched around him and felt his cock jerk, but except for that and the muscle ticking on his jaw, he was perfectly still.

  “Not what I mean. Your eyes...” He trailed off.

  Christina blinked rapidly. “What about them?”

  “What are you?” he asked again. His dark brows came together in a scowl that scared her.

  Ha! Now she was scared. An ancient deity who could sprout a tail had her pinned beneath him. He was deep inside her, without protection—that last part would be more worrisome if Olivia hadn’t told her Titans procreated at will. Christina assumed the same went for other gods. But was she right?

  And lying here, hugging her leg to her chest, a huge supernatural dick inside her, wasn’t the time to freak out.

  “I am me,” she muttered.

  Palaemon lifted his palm and brought it down on her thigh with a crack. The sharp sting shot straight to her core, and she moaned. She needed him to move. To do something for the throbbing in her pussy.

  “You’re not human.” Palaemon landed another slap, this one closer to her ass, and she arched her back, seeking friction where she craved it the most.

  His words registered but made no sense. “Of course I am. My whole family is human.”

  Crack. This time he pulled out and plunged inside her again before the pain from the slap had faded. “Don’t lie to me.”

  “I’m not lying.” Lightheaded with this seesaw between pleasure and pain, she was a ball of need. She consisted of raw desire. She couldn’t lie to him even if she wanted to.

  He flexed his hips again and sneaked a hand between the
ir bodies, to pinch her clit and make her moan. “Mortals’ eyes don’t change color. What are you?”

  “Must be the light.” Her eyes didn’t change color. If they did, someone would have noticed before now. And why were they talking about her eyes, when the most amazing man she’d ever met was balls-deep inside her?

  This was the worst possible moment to be thinking about Hyperion, but his words from weeks ago echoed in her head.

  You want a man who will rock your world. Whose touch will send electricity sparking through you. Whose kiss will take away your breath and leave your legs weak. And who can make love to you for hours, before gathering your sated body close and letting you know you’re safe with him for the rest of your life.

  Palaemon was that kind of man. The kind that could break her heart.

  No. This wasn’t about her heart. It was about something located much lower on her body. Something that couldn’t get enough of Palaemon.

  “Human,” she panted, clinging to him as he upped the tempo of his thrusts. “I’m only human.” And she might fall apart if he kept this up, but it felt so good... His every stroke hit a spot inside that made her body tingle, and his fingers on her clit sent jolts of pleasure to her womb. She was close...

  “Don’t come.” He ducked his head to close his teeth around her nipple. Not nibble on it—bite. The pain was sharp but turned into liquid heat, pooling between her legs. She didn’t know she was into kink, but he could pinch and slap and bite her flesh if he kept stoking the fire in her belly.

  He licked the hardened peak and rubbed her thigh that still pulsed with the memory of his palm.

  “I need to... Please.” Was she whimpering? Palaemon was turning her into a bumbling mess.

  He pinched her clit and twisted, pistoning into her until the bed creaked. “Come. Now.”

  His throaty whisper triggered a release that had her body shaking with its force. Her eyes drifted shut, and a keening wail—his name—tore up her throat, as the flames in her core rose to engulf her. She felt weightless, and at the same time fuller than ever, as he kept pumping inside her, then pulled out to cover her belly and thighs with his seed.