She trusted him enough to drop her guard. To believe he’d keep her safe. The trust she offered was staggering. She’d been showing it slowly, but increasingly after she’d stopped trying to escape her brother’s home. She gave him her vulnerability—but what had he given her in return?
Protection wasn’t enough, especially not after taking her from everything she knew. Before heading to the kitchen, he made himself a promise: he would keep her alive and let her live.
He conjured a ready-to-bake moussaka from his favorite Greek restaurant, then slid it into the oven. He could’ve snapped his fingers and stolen something fully cooked, but he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Iliana. The other gods would return soon. They had limited time alone.
When he returned, she was still on his bed, her limbs splayed, and her eyes closed.He bypassed walking entirely and teleported onto the mattress, making her squeak.
“I am going to strap bells to every single one of you,” she groaned.
Thanatos chuckled, thoroughly entertained by the way she glared at him.
She propped herself up on one elbow, her eyes sparkling with something other than amusement.
Desire.
He hesitated momentarily, thinking of Hypnos and Anubis in Switzerland, of Hermes’ warning and his sisters’ riddles. But Iliana was here with him, choosing this moment despite everything else weighing on her. She trusted him. She wanted him.
He hadn’t realized how badly he wanted to be chosen by her. The pull to go to her was strong. He surrendered to it, leaning in and kissing her. She moaned. Soft and welcoming, her body sank into his.
It was supposed to be a simple kiss, but it never stayed that way with her. She moved against him, the press of her body sending a wildfire of need through his veins and igniting his nerves.
Thanatos rolled onto his back, expecting her to follow. But Iliana pulled away and straddled his hips instead. For the first time in his existence, Thanatos felt almost mortal. And Gaia help him, he wanted it. He stared at the beautiful woman on top of him. Her plaited hair slipped over her shoulder, exposing her neck. Her lips parted, kiss-swollen and red, her breaths coming faster.
Hunger didn’t begin to describe what he saw in her eyes. There wasn’t just desire burning in them. He saw her determination. Her choice.
He gathered the silky braid in his hand and pulled her down to him. Iliana didn’t resist. Her mouth brushed his, then deepened, pouring all of her desire, her need, and her trust into the kiss.
The last of his control gave way, and heat spiked through his blood. His hands grasped her hips, fingers pressing into soft flesh as he pulled her flush against him. Her body rocked, rolling against him, his hardness straining against his pants.
He needed her. Not as a god. Not as Death. But as a man who’d found something worth living for beyond duty.
He flipped her over effortlessly and pinned her beneath him. He stared down at her beautiful face, too far gone to question his actions any longer.
Iliana grinned at him, breathless. “Impatient?”
He growled, admitting to himself that she was absolutely correct. He wanted her naked and wanting; begging for him with that raspy, needy voice. “I will show you impatient,” he said, using his powers to make their clothes vanish with a thought.
She gasped, her hands stroking his back. “Now, that’s a power I can appreciate.”
He leaned down, smirking against her neck, and inhaled her scent. Sweet and musky, and uniquely Iliana. “There’s more where that came from,” he said in her ear.
Her hips jerked up, causing his cock to slide against her slick heat and making them both gasp. She was ready for him, her wetness and warmth inviting him in, but he paused, letting anticipation grow and delighting in each moment. Her nails bit harder into his back, leaving marks that would be gone shortly, but he was sure he’d always remember the feel of her need.
Thanatos returned the prick of pain with a nip to her earlobe, his teeth catching the soft flesh, making her shiver and arch beneath him.
He trailed his fingers over her sides, ribs, and between the valley of her breasts before cupping one mound and squeezing lightly, testing and learning her reactions. He brushed a thumb over her nipple and circled, listening to her moans. Gasps. He let those sounds guide him in his quest to give her pleasure or deny it.
When he tried to pull back, to move lower, she didn’t release him. She kept her hands tangled in his hair, holding him close. He could’ve easily broken her hold, but he didn’t want to. Not until she willingly gave him that control.
“Do I need to tie you down, or will you allow me to make you feel good?”
The question was playful and teasing, but he was asking her to trust him; to let him take control. To surrender something when she’d been fighting so hard to have some control over everything else—her curse, her fate, her life.
Iliana bit her bottom lip, clearly fighting a smart-ass response.Her eyes searched his face, and he let her see everything. His desire for her. The promise that he’d take care of her. He saw the moment she understood what he was really asking. Saw the decision form in her eyes when she chose to trust him.
She nodded and released him, her hands falling to the bed. Surrendering.
Trust.
