Desperate Housewives of Olympus Read Online Free PDF Page B

and knowing his lips would work against her clit the same way. She was bombarded by sensation too. Demeter could feel her nails digging into his back, and the smooth muscle there rippling with his exertion as he drilled into her. The heat of his mouth on her breasts, her belly, her neck… All of that quiet intensity inside of him focused solely on her.
    She’d always thought of him as a godling, even when he’d grown tall and his shoulders wide. He’d been a boy, a child, the same as her Persephone. She’d changed his swaddling. But there was no longer any trace of that innocence or youth. Where once he’d been baby round, he was a male full-grown; all hard planes and defined muscle. Demeter had seen Aphrodite in the sullen pout to his lips, his large amber eyes, but that had hardened into something else too. There was nothing feminine at all in the full set of his mouth or those eyes that bored into her more intimately than his cock ever could.
    Her gaze was drawn down his body to where his traditional style of toga barely brushed the tops of his well-formed thighs. His sandals were laced up to his knees and again, on any other male, she would have found this to be feminine, but on Eros, it only accentuated the very masculine lines of his musculature.
    Demeter almost gasped when she saw evidence of his desire for her as well. The hard length of him was outlined against the filmy material and it was then she knew everything she’d seen in her vision had been real.
    She wanted to touch him again, but more than a motherly pat on his arm. Why hadn’t she noticed how golden and warm he was before? Demeter was both dismayed and thankful at the same time. Even if he was willing, this wasn’t something she could do. If she let herself get distracted now, all of her hard work would be for nothing. As it was, she had to hope he didn’t decide to delve deeper inside of her because of his reaction.
    Her channel clenched when she thought of Eros delving deep in to anything. Sour twinges of guilt were like ice on her spine. He was here for Persephone, and that suited her purposes. Or at least it had until she’d become aware of his cock.
    He seemed blissfully unaware of the cause of her reaction and inspected her intently. “Demeter? Are you unwell?”
    “I’m tired. I used too much of my power on my garden today. I was tired of waiting for the strawberries. I adore them with cream,” she babbled.
    Cream. How trite such an obvious word would make her clench again, but it did. Demeter imagined all manner of creamy things, number one being his seed on her lips and breasts. Kissing her after, tasting himself on her and wanting more.
    “Let me help you inside.” He reached out to touch her, but fell short of the mark. He manifested a pair of black leather gloves and then took her arm.
    His touch—even blocked by the leather—thrummed with sexual energy. It coursed through her blood and made her ache for things she hadn’t wanted or needed. Demeter realized to her horror she was in danger of fainting.
    She was hot everywhere, she couldn’t breathe, her skin was being torn with a thousand thorns and was hit in the face with another realization. This heat wasn’t only the attraction to Eros, her body was going through The Change. Her death was certainly imminent.
    Double damn Persephone. Damn her.
    Who was it she loved? It wasn’t Eros and it couldn’t be Hades. So who was it? She clenched her teeth against her new predicament, as if gnashing her own teeth to bits would help anything.
    She swayed like a willow tree in the wind as she surrendered to her rage. Eros caught her as she fell. He hauled her up into his arms and as he did, his fingers brushed the edges of her breast. Her nipples tightened painfully, every inch of her wanting more of his touch. She couldn’t help but wonder at what it would feel like if he was touching her with his own flesh. Skin to skin.
    The rage bubbled again. She didn’t want to be thinking