Bound to the Battle God - Ruby Dixon Page 0,188

that, he’s fucking amazing and he knows it. I no longer see his arrogance as irritating, more just a quirk of who he is. And I love all of him. “Do you want to know the stories behind each wound? All of them have a tale behind them.”

I shake my head and raise a hand to him. “I just want to hold you, actually. Can we do that?”

“I can withhold no request from you,” he says, and climbs into bed next to me. We’re naked together, flesh pressed to flesh for the first time, and this feels way more intimate than anything we’ve ever done before.

Tentatively, I put my hand on his stomach. We’re facing each other, inches apart, and his hand goes possessively to my hip, as if he has to touch me at all times. “This is the first time I’m getting to touch you, do you realize that?”

“You’ve grabbed me before. I distinctly remember several times in which I had to pry your eager hands off of my cock.”

I laugh, because I remember that, too. “So are you going to push my hands away again today?” And I slide one down to his dick, just to test that theory.

“Never again,” he says solemnly. “I am yours to claim, just as you are mine.”

I am totally going to test that theory. I sit up in bed, gazing down at him as he rolls onto his back and tucks a hand behind his head, the most casual of men. As if we’ve done this a dozen times already. Truth is, I’m itching to touch him. I remember each furtive touch I gave him in the past and how he pulled me away. The realization that he won’t do that again is a heady one.

And the man is stinking beautiful. It doesn’t matter that his body is covered in scars. There’s no part of him that isn’t perfection. I trace a finger down one long, jagged red mark that crosses his belly and arches over to his hip. His pectorals are hard and flat, his shoulders broad, his hips narrow.

His dick is just as enormous as I remember from those furtive touches and our time earlier in the hall. I knew he was well equipped. I mean, no god is going to have a teeny weenie. And when we made love a short time ago? He was so big that it felt life-changing. Looking at him now, I see that it wasn’t just my imagination. His cock is long and thick, the head prominent. Veins trace up and down his shaft, leading down to a lightly furred ball sac that can only be described as thick. Every inch of him is thick and meaty and my mouth waters at the sight. I think of all the times that he made me lose control, and I want to do the same to him.

Out in the hall? That was the first time I ever saw Aron lose his shit. When he pushed me against the wall and fucked me as if he would die if he wasn’t inside me in the next moment. That was heady stuff, and I want to see it happen again. I want him to lose his mind with pleasure.

Which means figuring out what he likes.

Which means I get to play with his cock. I smile, feeling a bit like a cat that licked the cream, and lean over him. He’s a god, and so he’s probably done everything a million times before. I don’t want to think about that, so I’m going to focus on enjoying him myself. On pleasing me with his body, because that’s all I have to offer in this equation—me.

So I lean over him and let my long hair tease his thighs, tilting my head to the side as I study him. I make sure not to block his view, because I suspect he wants to watch. His gaze is on me, and I can feel his body tensing ever so slightly. It makes me feel powerful.

I’m the first mortal he’s wanted in forever. Me. That gives me all kinds of power over this strong, sexy god. He might be the lord of storms, but I’m the one he lost control with. I’m the one he was so desperate to fuck that he pushed me against a wall and plowed into me where anyone could see.

Smiling, I slowly wrap my hand around his cock, testing his girth. He’s so thick that my fingers