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Dionysus just stared at her, his mind completely void of thought—and that, he decided, was why he kissed her, but fuck did he need it. He braced his hand against the back of her head, holding her in place as his mouth collided with hers. There was nothing soft or sweet about how they came together either, both fueled by a desperation that seemed to live within their bones. But as quick as it had started, Ariadne pulled away.
She glared up at him from between his legs, her lips wet from his kiss, her eyes gleaming with a storm of hate and lust.
He started to speak, to say he was sorry, but she pushed off the floor and kissed him again. Her arms wrapped around his neck, her knees settled on either side of his legs as she straddled him in the black chair. His hands moved to her bare ass, and he squeezed her soft skin before slapping his palms against each cheek.He gripped her again and helped her grind against his length, groaning at the feel of her against him.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he kissed up her neck and jaw. “Has anyone ever told you you’re perfect?”
“You would be the first,” she whispered.
“What a shame,” he said, and their mouths clashed again.
Dionysus had never felt so frenzied with anyone before, but Ariadne was a match, and he wanted to burn beneath her.
He moved one hand from her ass to one of her breasts, kneading and rubbing until her nipple was hard and each swipe of his thumb made her moan.
Fuck, he wanted it in his mouth, but just as he went to pull her dress down, someone cleared their throat and the two froze.
“I really hate to interrupt,” said Michail, who had returned undetected with two large men. They flanked the mortal, dressed all in black. “But I’ve learned some very unfortunate news.”
“What the fuck is this, Michail?”
“Nothing to do with you, Dionysus,” said the mortal. “This is between me and your girl, isn’t it, Phaedra? Or perhaps you respond better to Detective Alexiou.”
“What?” Dionysus looked from Ariadne to Michail.
“Detective Alexiou works for the Hellenic Police Department,” Michail said, clearly under the impression that Dionysus was not aware of Ariadne’s background. “She’s been roaming our streets undercover for months. We’d been onto her for a few weeks when she vanished. I assumed she ended up at the bottom of the Aegean, but it seems she just found another way to get what she wanted.”
“And what’s that?” Dionysus asked. He was looking at her now. His hands were on her thighs, right beneath her gun.
She held his gaze.
“I was doing my job,” she said. “Looking for missing women.”
His chest tightened.
So she’d roamed these streets in search of the women she’d ended up finding at his club. Of course she’d started here. She’d assumed they’d been sold into the sex trade.
“Sorry, darling,” said Michail. “You’re not as sly as you thought. Now why don’t you give my esteemed guest some room?”
Dionysus held Ariadne’s gaze. He didn’t want to let her go.
“Ariadne.” He could not help saying her name.
“I’m sorry,” she said and rose.
“Ariadne!”
But as she stood, she drew her gun and shot it twice—one bullet for each man on either side of Michail.
Dionysus rose to his feet.
“What the fuck are you waiting for, Dionysus? Fucking kill her!”
That was the last thing he wanted to do.
Dionysus called on his magic, and thick vines exploded from the floor, curling around Michail’s wrists and jerking him to the ground. He landed flat on his face, his arms outstretched.
Dionysus crossed to the man and dragged his head back. His face was red and his nose bled. He gave a pained cry.
