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I don’t have time to see much more as I turn to face the hundred-and-twenty-pound beast flying at me. I brace, open my arms, and the dog jumps up. He’s a big boy, but his paws and head still only reach chest level as I’m nearly six-foot-six.
“There’s my boy,” I say, using my hands to rub his neck and ears vigorously while his tongue lolls out the side of his mouth. I don’t have to look at Zora to know she’s irritated.
She can’t stand that her dogs love me, and they only love me because over the last year she has let me into her life… her home, her bed, her body.
I wait to see what she’ll do now.
With a sigh, she closes her book, and I shove Uorsin off. Mattia jumps down from the couch, stretches, and pads over to me for an ear scratch.
“What are you doing?” Zora asks with a tired sigh.
She’s absolutely magnificent in the warm firelight. Her hair, the color of frosted snowcaps, is loose and curls around her face, pouring down her back and over her shoulders. It’s too dark to see much more than the shimmer in her irises from the fire, but could I see them, I’d be dazzled by the rings of gold, green, and blue.
Zora’s wearing a heavy sweater and leggings, her feet warmed by thick socks.
I step toward her, out of the shadows and into the ambient light spilling from the fireplace. “You know what I’m doing.”
“I’m not in the mood,” she says, pushing off the couch. She picks up an empty glass and attempts to move past me toward the kitchen.
My hand shoots out, grabs her upper arm. “Little liar.”
This is the point where the rest of the evening will be decided. As a god, Zora could wish me out of existence, and I would simply be no more. She’s that powerful.
She’s also my deity, the one I worship and to whom I’m bound to follow every order she gives. I shouldn’t even be touching her without permission.
But I know something about Zora that no one else has figured out, and I’m not about to tell her.
She might act like she doesn’t want my advances, but the truth is, she likes it when I take control. I think it’s the only time in her fucked-up, spinning, swirling, tilting life that she feels grounded. When she can allow someone else to make the decisions and call the shots.
It doesn’t mean she submits to me every time because sometimes I catch her when she’s too cranky to give it up to me.
I can see the acquiescence in her eyes before I feel it in the laxity of her arm within my grasp. I could pick her up right now and carry her to her bedroom, and she’d merely wrap her arms around my neck in capitulation.
But Zora gives me so little outside of the bed I’m going to take some more for myself. I pull her in closer and her head tips back to stare up at me. “I need you to tell me you want it.”
Her lips part, and a tiny whiff of breath escapes. I hold her tight, my gaze lasered onto hers, and wait her out.
Finally, she whispers, “You know I do.”
It’s not the exact words I demanded, but they’re good enough. I crush my mouth onto hers as my hands go under her ass to lift her up. The glass falls from her hand, but before it can shatter, she makes it disappear. At least I don’t hear a crash, but it’s forgotten as I walk to her bedroom. I could bend distance, get us there faster, but she feels too good wrapped around me.
Zora’s body is slight, her skin pale, and that’s from living twenty-eight years without good food or sunlight. While she’s got the power inside her to destroy a planet, she always seems frail when she first submits to me.
Our kiss turns ravenous once I set her down, both of us tearing at each other’s clothes. Either one of us could magic away the garments, but we like the buildup.
I can’t recall the number of times I’ve fucked Zora since we met, but every time has been better than the last. It’s a total annihilation of all our sensibilities, giving in to lust and passion and dirty words. Zora may have been inexperienced in the ways of the world, but she’s a quick learner when it comes to sex. Sure, she knew enough from Amell, but there are things I do to her that I know he never did by the shocked sounds I can elicit.
My fingers sift into her long curls, and I grip them tight at the back of her head. I pull her away from me, my gaze roaming her face. Her lips are swollen, eyes glazed, and her skin flushed.
She’s a fucking goddess, and I’ve never wanted anything more in my life.
“Maddox?” she murmurs hesitantly, her expression clearing to watch me warily.
Heart slamming in my chest, unable to decide which of a hundred ways I could have her, I grip her hair tighter. “Get on your knees for me, Zora. Want your mouth on me.”
Heat flashes in her eyes, and it’s not of the offended variety. It’s hunger, and she willingly kneels before me. My cock aches, and my demigod strength is called into question when she takes me deep into her wet mouth.
“Fuck,” I groan, my head falling back as she works me in a way she knows drives me so crazy I doubt what’s happening is even real.
