Page 29

“Pot, kettle. I saw several of Erato’s books on your shelves, Hera.”

“The bears enjoy them.”

Nemesis tugged gently, teasingly on the lock of hair she was playing with.

“Oh, yes, ever the careful and concerned employer. You’d think they’d enjoy achillean prose more than sapphic, given who they are.”

Hera bit her lip to hide her smile. Nemesis wiggled her fingers at her side, and Hera lost the battle with joy. She was way too ticklish not to give in.

“To be honest, I have no idea what they read. Fine, fine, no need to involve violence. The Muse has decent stories. I just hope she never ever confesses to getting inspired by my sister, because that will be the last book of hers I will ever pick up!”

Nemesis gave her one last tickle and then crossed her arms over her naked chest, and Hera wondered why in the world they were talking about her sister. Why were they talking at all?

“You don’t think that her next one and probably every single one after will totally be inspired by Demeter? At least by their love story.”

Hera threw her hands in the air.

“Do not put ideas in that woman’s head. I am certain authors can just write books without having to self-insert their lives into them. Surely the Muse of Smut has ideas that do not involve my sister. Surely, the Muse knows how to separate fiction from reality. I for damn certain do not wish to believe that I am reading things that she has personally tested or experienced⁠—”

Hera stopped mid-sentence, rewinding what she had just said and watched Nemesis’s smirk bloom.

“Oh, Hades, this is Erato we are talking about!”

Nemesis nodded. “Yep, this is Erato, so her entire catalog is likely her own debauchery.”

Hera threw herself down on the shredded pillows and shook her head.

“Revenge, never again. I shall never buy a single book by that asshat. Why did you even tell me this? Now I can’t unsee any of it.”

“Oh, have you read some of them several times to know them by heart? To have visualized some of the action? Is that what you’re saying?”

Nemesis’s mouth was too damn close and too damn self-satisfied for Hera to ignore. And so she didn’t. She reached for the mahogany locks, pulling hard, turning their bodies till she was on top, leaning over the now openly smirking Nemesis.

“What am I going to do with you, Vengeance?” She ran her hands up and down the long torso, muscles rippling under her fingertips.

“I have hope that you will think of something.” Nemesis’s breath hitched slightly as Hera’s fingers pinched her nipples and proceeded lower.

Hera narrowed her eyes, then returned her fingers to the sensitive peaks that furled tightly under her ministrations. The blue eyes were stormy, dark with blown pupils, watching her with heat and want.

She kissed her way down the smooth planes of the abdomen, feeling the powerful muscles move under her mouth. It gave her a thrill to make this woman clutch the sheets and bear, in silence, all Hera did to her.

Still, she wanted more. She wanted to hear. And to taste. And to see. Hera pushed the sheet out of her way and smiled.

“You’re so wet.”

Nemesis mumbled unintelligibly. Hera looked up to see the normally pale cheeks take on a decidedly pink hue. It was… adorable. Touching. It was everything. Hera leaned in and licked, keeping her eyes on the face looking down on her.

Another lick made her hum against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.”

The sound of breath hitching, of a suppressed moan spurred her on. Hera didn’t mind. She loved a challenge.

She spread the trembling flesh and tasted again, at the very core. She could get addicted to this. To make one of the most powerful beings go weak, go needy, go desperate.

And Nemesis was desperate, lifting her pelvis closer to Hera’s mouth. What a rush this was. Fingers wound themselves into her hair, pushing her head gently but insistently, and Hera smiled again.

“Greedy, greedy Revenge.”