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Her toes clenched inside her boots as August pushed one finger into her. It was dizzying. As wet as she was, it slid in without resistance, and in a second, he was inside her body. She really thought she might faint, it was all so sudden and sensual. They’d been joking, teasing, playing, laughing, and now everything was very, very serious. He pushed a second finger inside her and she whimpered, whimpered again when he spread his fingers, opening her wider...wider...until Lia was digging her boot heels into the bed to lift her hips off the sheets and into his hand.
“Not so prissy now, are we?” he said, his tone mocking. “Legs spread for me, pussy dripping all over my hand, so hot inside that your cunt could give a lesser man a second-degree burn...”
August moved his touch lower, to a soft hollow place just inside of her. He pressed his two fingertips into that hollow lightly, very lightly, but her body reacted strongly...very strongly... A muscle inside her clenched around his fingers. A nerve fired like a gunshot.
“August...” She made his name a plea.
“Tell me again,” he said, gazing down at her, “how bad my technique is.”
“I apologize,” she said breathlessly.
“Apology accepted.” He gently extracted his fingers from her body and sat back on his knees. Lia watched him, legs still spread wide, lungs burning, vagina clenching, as he put those two fingers in his mouth and licked her wetness from them.
“God,” she said. He smiled, stood up and undressed before lying back naked and stretching out on the bed.
“Get the kylix,” he said.
Lia was shaking so hard from arousal she nearly spilled the wine when she poured it. But she managed to get enough control of herself to carry it to August without disaster striking. August drank deeply from it and closed his eyes with a happy sigh. Lia undressed and took a deep drink from the kylix. She crawled into bed and lay very near August, her arm over his chest.
“Fair warning,” he said in a sleepy voice. “Making love while wearing wings can be awkward. You’ll want to stay on top so they don’t get crushed.”
“How would you know?”
“Bad experience at a fancy-dress party. I’m fading fast. I’ll see you in your dreams.”
“Not if I see you first, Psyche,” she said.
Lia felt the woozy wobbly feeling come over her again. She closed her eyes and thought of August in a blindfold. She fell asleep smiling.
When she opened her eyes again, she was in paradise.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lia stood in a meadow on a hillside, her bare feet sunk deep in the softest green grasses. The sun hung low and red in the sky. She turned around, orienting herself to this new world and saw, at the top of the hill, a palace that shone bright as polished ivory, with gold columns and silver stairs. She walked through a carpet of wildflowers in the fading sunshine. She paused at a stream and gazed into the water. There she was... Eros. Goddess of passionate love. Her hair fell in ringlets of chocolate brown around her face and a diadem of pearls sat upon her brow. The gown she wore was the finest satin. And from her back sprang two wings of silky white feathers.
“Oh my goodness,” Lia said to her reflection. “I’m precious.”
She turned her head to gaze at her hair in profile and got a face full of feathers.
“Right, wings,” she said, pushing the wing back down and into place. “I was warned. Watch out for the wings. Wait. Wings. I can fly.”
It was just like every lucid dream she’d ever had. Once Lia realized she was in a fantasy world and wearing wings, she pushed off the earth and flew up into the air. Freed from the bounds of gravity, she rose higher and higher to watch the sun sink into the ocean.
Night was almost upon them. Her wedding night.
Lia’s immortal ears heard footsteps wandering in her palace.
No one was ever to be allowed admittance into the private chambers of Eros, therefore it could only be Psyche, the young prince she’d loved at first glance and had summoned to her home.
She flew to her palace but kept herself hidden behind an ivory pillar, waiting for the prince to appear in the hallway. She held her breath and listened to the approach of two lovely feet.
Would he like the palace? She had made it just for him. For weeks, she’d eavesdropped on the people of his kingdom to learn anything she could about the prince. She knew he loved to ride horses, so she’d filled her stables with gray mares and brown stallions. She’d heard he’d laughed with a child’s delight at a traveling circus and the panthers and tigers that walked on leashes like dogs, so she had every room in the palace painted with exotic animals—elephants, lions, unicorns. She’d heard a rumor that his grandmother had made him a wool blanket for his bed and had it dyed a rich rare violet, and he loved it so much that—even though it was faded and tattered—he kept it to use as a horse blanket when he rode. No surprise that she’d put a blanket of the finest silk dyed the rarest purple on their bed. Silk coverlet, cotton sheets from Egypt, a dozen pillows full of the softest feathers... She lived to please him. But would she?
For the first time in her immortal life, the little goddess worried the corner of her wing in her fingers.
She was nervous.
His shadow rounded the corner before he did, and the goddess held her breath again and made herself as small as possible as she slipped behind a tapestry.
