A Guard for the Titan (TITANS, #3) Page 7

  “Don’t move,” he whispered in her ear, as he bunched up the hem of her dress. He made quick work of his fly and pulled himself free without bothering to peel off his jeans. He needed to be buried inside her. Now.

  He slipped his shaft between her legs, rubbing against her moist heat. She was drenched with her arousal and the remnants of her last release, and she tilted her hips, inviting him.

  With her body almost completely upright, the angle wasn’t optimal for an average sized male, but Atlas was as far from average as they came. He used his hand to position himself at her entrance and pushed inside, centimeter by agonizing centimeter. It was like touching the sun again. Blazing hot and energizing and filling him with the desire to create. He would have children with this woman.

  But not today.

  Iphigenia’s breath hitched, and she tried to push back, but he held her steady with his hold on her dress until he was fully seated inside her. She fit him like a glove, but it wasn’t enough.

  “Want more?” he asked.

  Her answer was a breathless yes.

  He focused on growing his length three more centimeters, and reveled on the shiver that rocked her frame.

  It took all his effort not to pull back and slam into her again. Instead, he withdrew as slowly as he’d entered her, feeling her strangle his length.

  Her breath fogged the glass at her irritated huff. “I won’t break.”

  He drove forward with a hint more force, and she moaned, rocking against him.

  He wanted to be gentle, wanted to make this sweet and slow, but his body was done holding back. His next thrust shook the frame of the window. He ordered the air to hold up her dress, and he grabbed her hips with both hands to plunge inside her faster... harder...

  God, yes.

  Her words were spoken inside his head, almost inaudible beneath her moans and his grunts. He could hear her again.

  Other voices overtook hers for a heartbeat. Hushed cries and angry protests he couldn’t exactly make out. The room darkened, and Kronos’ angry scowl filled Atlas’ sight, before he harnessed his emotions. As much as his lust could be harnessed, when Iphigenia was squeezing around his cock.

  “Tell me what you need,” he ordered mentally.

  She gasped and turned to look at him over her shoulder, but a couple hard thrusts had her dropping her head forward again. “My nipples,” she whispered.

  He thought of his hands cupping her breasts and pinching the dusky-pink peaks through the fabric of her dress. Rolling them between his fingers. Tugging on them.

  “How...?” The rest of her question was taken over by a keening sound when he imagined biting one nipple and twisting the other.

  Iphigenia bucked her hips, and he had the undeniable urge to smack her round bottom. He let go of one ass cheek to bring down his palm on it with a crack that reverberated through the living room.

  She clenched around him so hard, she could have Titan blood in her, as well as a Titaness’ soul.

  “Tell me you want me,” he barked.

  “Fuck... Am I being too subtle?”

  Another hard smack. “Tell me,” he said in her mind.

  “I want you. Please make me come.”

  The last of his restrain snapped, and he amped the rhythm of his thrusts, as he sent her mental images of his fingers rubbing her clitoris.

  Her hips bucked, and she met his strokes with a fervor that matched his. The red mark of a palm print was blossoming on her behind, and he wanted to kiss it. Lick it. So he used their mental connection to make her feel like he did.

  “Yes.” Panted breaths shook her body, and her heartbeat drummed in his ears. “More.”

  “Tell me what you want.”

  She whispered, “I can’t.”

  “Then show me.”

  Confusion flowed through their connection, and then a fractured thought, draped in embarrassment, nudged at the edge of his consciousness.

  Not slowing, he probed for more. Ah, his little human enjoyed an extra touch of kink.

  Should he claim her ass, as he did her pussy? Tantalizing. Maybe next time. For now, he pressed his thumb to her asshole, as he fucked her harder and redoubled his mental ministrations on her clit.

  She came with a violent shudder that almost made him slip out of her, but he held her in place with his grip and his thumb and his cock, and pistoned inside her until his release claimed him and he was spent inside her divine body.

  He withdrew and helped her upright, but she wouldn’t face him. When he cupped her chin and raised it to meet her gaze, her cheeks were wet.

  “My love?” The words sounded right, though he hadn’t intended them. Had he done something she didn’t want? Had he forced her? Titans didn’t have human afflictions, but the thought brought bile bubbling up his throat. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

  She shook her head, but fresh tears spilled from her beautiful eyes. “It was just so... perfect. I’ve never felt like that before.” She sniffed. “I was overwhelmed. I’m sorry.”

  His heart expanding with joy, he gathered her to him and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, before picking her up in his arms. “Don’t apologize for enjoying yourself. Let’s wash up, and then we can work on overwhelming you some more.”

  The bowl of artificial fruit on the coffee table rattled as he passed by it, and the wind whistled through the sliding doors. He had to bond with her. Soon.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Mmm... more.” Iphigenia arched her back into the probing touch between her legs. She thought he’d let her sleep after she sucked him off in the shower, but she really didn’t mind this.

  Atlas barely moved his fingers, but vibrations spread from her pussy to her womb, making her body buzz with his power. So. Much. Power. She’d felt horrible for turning into a mumbling mess after the orgasm he gave her in the living room, but it was impossible to hold back the flood of sensation rushing through her.

  And he was apparently out to top that performance.

  He trailed a finger soaked in her juices lower, to her second hole. “So you like to be teased here,” he said. Without speaking. Because his tongue was busy with her clit.

  Don’t think of how much you like it. Don’t think of how much you like it. Don’t think of how much you like it. She’d told Pavlos once how she wanted to try... this, and he’d called her filthy. She wouldn’t handle seeing Atlas regarding her with similar disgust.

  Only, his eyes blazed gold when he looked up at her and gently pressed his finger through the tight ring of muscle. Because Atlas wasn’t Pavlos. He wasn’t any mortal man. He was hers, and he truly saw her. And he accepted her.

  Her hips all but flew off the mattress. She’d anticipated this and more since he pressed his thumb there. She’d been curious before, but now she longed to know how it would feel if he—

  Atlas nibbled on the sensitive bundle of nerves he’d been lapping at. “Come back to me,” he thought at her.

  “I’m here. I’m here.” It felt weird, speaking out loud when he didn’t, so in her head she added, “Just a little jittery.”

  “About...”

  “What you’re doing.”

  He pushed his tongue inside her pussy and withdrew his finger from her ass, only to probe at it again, this time with two fingers pressed together. Iphigenia clenched reflexively against the intrusion, and Atlas chuckled. “Relax, my glorious nymph. I’ll make it good.” He kept spearing her with his tongue and returned to inserting a single digit in her second hole.

  Iphigenia forced herself to relax and push down into his mouth and his hand, as he slowly pumped his finger inside her. With every new thrust, she felt fuller, like his finger was somehow growing thicker. Could he do that? He could make her feel three—or was it four?—tongues and twice as many hands at the same time. Why would this be above him?

  She stopped questioning what was happening when he filled her to this side of discomfort, but he latched his lips on her clit and tapped it with his tongu
e, and the pain gave place to the slow burn of impending release. An invisible cock slowly wedged itself in her pussy, stretching her and filling her up and making the ball of emotion and sensation in her belly swirl, gaining mass and heat.

  She still felt Atlas’ face between her legs, as he crawled up her body and claimed her mouth for a kiss. Tasting herself on his tongue amped her arousal, and she didn’t protest when he lifted her legs, to drape them over his shoulders, folding her in half. Which of her holes would he enter? Having his finger inside her ass had been incredible, but would she manage his cock?

  She was about to find out.

  All mentally-induced ministrations ceased, as Atlas let go of her long enough to plunge his real cock in her pussy. “So wet,” he whispered in her ear, then licked a trail to the hollow of her throat and withdrew from her body.

  The bell-shaped head pressed against her tight entrance and then into it. She squeezed, her ass on fire, and he stilled long enough for her to relax the tiniest bit, before pushing forward. It hurt, but the burn mingled with pleasure and amplified it.

  When he was fully seated inside her, his phantom second cock entered her again.

  He took turns thrusting into both her holes, creating a seesaw of pleasure that bordered into the most delicious pain. This... This was too much. She would come apart. Spin out of control. She wasn’t used to losing control and it happened too often when he was touching her.

  It was as frightening as it was exhilarating. Was this what falling in love was like?

  The mattress shook with his thrusts, and howling wind picked up around them, making the drapes dance and swirl. Her vision turned blurry with tears, as her limbs thrashed with each new push that rocked her body. Her hamstrings burned, her ass throbbed, and her pussy fluttered, her orgasm just out of reach.

  She dug her nails into his strong, muscled arms, as he pistoned inside her. The headboard slammed rhythmically against the wall, and something snapped, but he kept fucking her, his barely restrained power humming just beneath his skin. Corded tendons roped down his neck, as he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. “Bond with me,” he roared. “Say you’re mine.”

  Instinct made Iphigenia reach into his mind. If she gleaned a hint of the emotion burning in her heart, she’d pledge herself to him and not look back.

  Her release crashed into her, but what she saw in Atlas’ thoughts sent ice down her spine, to chase away the euphoria. Another woman’s face was superimposed over her own. A woman with Iphigenia’s coloring but higher cheekbones, thicker brows, and fuller lips.

  No, not a woman. A Titaness. His Titaness. Pleione. Atlas was fucking Iphigenia, while thinking of his dead love.

  “Stop.” She slapped his chest with both hands, trying to get him out of her, needing to distance herself from the Titan who introduced her to a whole new world of pleasure, and at the same time broke her heart in a manner she hadn’t believed possible.

  Atlas froze and slipped out of her, letting her lower her legs. Aching inside and out, she scooted back gingerly, away from him, and he sat on his haunches and studied her with concern. She wanted to wipe that expression from his face. With her knuckles.

  “Did I do something you didn’t like?” He caressed her ankle.

  Iphigenia snatched her leg from his touch and sat up. She felt lightheaded, which only added to her ire. How could someone who stomped all over her feelings make her body sing?

  “Iphigenia? Talk to me, please.”

  “So you do remember who I am.”

  When he furrowed his brow in confusion, a fresh surge of anger bubbled in her gut. “Because a moment ago, you were thinking of being balls-deep inside your ex. While asking me to bond with you.” She sounded furious. Good. It hid the pain that tore at her ribcage and stole her breath.

  A gust of wind rippled around her and pushed her into him, as he moved beside her with the speed of light.

  “You’re jealous.” His chest reverberated with his chuckle. He was laughing. At her.

  She tried to push him away, but his thick arms were wrapped around her like steel bars. She tried to knee him in the groin, but the hit glanced off him. Damned Titan with his damned Titan abilities.

  “Stop laughing,” she said in as uninflected a tone as she could muster. “And stop touching me. I don’t want anything to do with you. Find another stupid mortal to mindfuck into bonding with you.” She needed to leave. Now. Go where he wouldn’t see her break down and cry—this time because she was desperately, irrationally drawn to someone who’d never choose her over the ghost of the woman he truly longed for.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The green flecks in Iphigenia’s eyes sparkled, and her face was pale but for the red tinting her cheeks. Her full lips were pinched together, her breathing coming in short pants that made her chest heave. She was made of passion and fire, so beautiful when she was furious, it was almost worth trying to enrage her further.

  He could sense the hurt beneath the rage, though, and nothing was worth hurting his soulmate.

  “My Iphigenia”—Atlas coiled a dark curl around his finger and tucked it behind her ear, grateful when she didn’t recoil—“it’s not her face I see when I bed you. It’s your face that overtakes my memories of her.” It was true. When he’d tried to remember how it felt to be as intimately joined with Pleione as he was with Iphigenia moments ago, Iphigenia’s presence had chased off the Titaness’ ghost. For the briefest of moments, it had left his chest hollow, and then a slew of new emotions had crashed in, to fill the void. And they were all for Iphigenia.

  Her lips parted, as if she was about to speak. The pinch of her brows foretold nothing he’d like to hear, so he hurried on.

  “I loved Pleione for millennia, and then lost her for millennia. When you brought me back, I was horrified by the intensity of my attraction to you, because I saw it as a betrayal. But she’s long gone, and you’re here. She’s my past, when I can see myself building a future with you. I’m yours. Can’t you see it? Didn’t you feel it when I was inside you?”

  Her bottom lip trembled, but her eyes were softer as she said, “I won’t be Pleione’s substitute.”

  Now this, he could work with. “You’re not.”

  “Because...?” There was pleading in her voice. What did she want him to say? He tried to touch her mind, but her thoughts were guarded. Should he admit that he was falling in love with her? Would she believe him?

  He drew a long, unnecessary breath and met her gaze, pouring all his sincerity into his words. “You can’t be a substitute for her, because you are her.”

  He leaned in for a kiss, but Iphigenia tensed in his arms. “What?” she asked.

  He wasn’t saying this right. He tried again. “My love for Pleione, our bond, transcends the ages. It transcends form and norm.”

  And that was the wrong way to go about it, because Iphigenia disentangled herself from his embrace and glared daggers at him. “What are you talking about?” Her hazel eyes were wild.

  “Our souls found each other again, like they were meant to, and hers was reborn into you. This undeniable pull between you and me is not only because we belong together. It’s because we were once bonded. Eros told me you are Pleione’s reincarnation, like my bonded brothers’ soulmates are reincarnations of their Titanesses. It explains—”

  She pushed away from him and half-fell, half-got out of bed on the farther side, pulling the top sheet with her. “That’s why you had sex with me? Because you thought I was her?” She spat out the last word.

  This wasn’t going well. Every time he opened his mouth, the distance between them grew. “I made love to you because I wanted you. I thought you felt the same.”

  “Don’t turn this on me.” Iphigenia looked around. Her dress was in a heap on the floor. She strode to it and manically turned it the right way, before pulling it over her head. “You’re the one who pursued this,” she said through the thin fabric. “You’re the one who decided we should bond. And you’re th
e one with all the information.” The sentence came out shrill.

  “My Iphigenia—”

  “No. Not your Iphigenia.” Her head cleared the neckline of the dress so hard, her curls seemed to hover midair before bouncing down to frame her face. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes, but her expression remained stony. “I’m no more yours than you are mine. She is your soulmate. I’m just— What? Her vessel? Will she take over? Will I lose myself, so you may have your precious Pleione back? Is that what the bonding is really about?”

  Her wrath was palpable, squeezing his heart in a vice. She thought he’d lied to get her into bed? That he’d sacrifice her, to bring back Pleione? A small part of him wondered if there was a hint of truth in the accusation, but Pleione hadn’t crossed his mind while he was with Iphigenia, and that was why he’d tried to invoke her image. Because guilt, utterly unreasonable yet undeniable, ate at him. Pleione was gone, and he was moving on, falling for someone else.

  Yes, Iphigenia’s soul—Pleione’s soul—called to him, but it was in a new person. It came with new memories and a new past, and a whole new level of stubbornness.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you’d just calm down...”

  Iphigenia slapped her palm on the wall by the headboard. “Don’t tell me what to do. You have no right. You lied to me and manipulated me.”

  “Hear me out, please.”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, making a visible effort to compose herself. “I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t even want to look at you anymore. You and I are done. And put on some clothes, for fuck’s sake.”

  He snatched his jeans from the foot of the bed and pulled them on, not bothering to button them up. “But we must bond. The world—”

  “May die in a fire, as far as I’m concerned.” She circled the bed with quick strides and headed for the door. She was leaving again. Running away from what they could have. From what they just shared. From him.