Gameboard of the Gods
Gameboard of the Gods (Age of X #1)(107)
Author: Richelle Mead
When their clothes were nothing more than haphazard piles on the floor, she moved on top of him, straddling his h*ps as she had once before. He was hard beneath her hands, and her blood burned with the need to possess him. She held back—not easy to do with the implant’s influence—but she wanted to savor this for as long as she could. There’d be plenty of opportunity for animal passion soon enough. She slid her hands up his chest, leaning forward so that her face was near his. Beneath her palms, his heart raced.
“You are so beautiful,” he breathed. “Still devastatingly beautiful. Doing this in the dark was a crime.” He tried to push some of her hair away from her face, but it fell right back.
“It’s unruly.” She hoped he wouldn’t notice that his reference to the dark had stirred up her old insecurities about lovers seeing the depth of her emotions. It had taken her ages to leave the lights on with Porfirio…surely Justin hadn’t progressed to that privilege already, had he? It didn’t seem possible, but as she allowed herself to accept this vulnerability, she discovered there was a rightness in granting him this. It still scared her…but it thrilled her too.
“It’s glorious,” he told her. He tucked the hair back again, gave up when it escaped, and instead trailed his fingers along her neck, down to her shoulder, and then along the curve of her breast. It was another small touch, another one with monumental effects.
“Even without flowers?” she teased.
His hand froze.
“What?”
She laughed softly and brushed a kiss against his lips. “You don’t remember? Your eloquent proposition in Windsor?”
Not waiting for a response, Mae kissed him again, harder this time. Her whole body ignited, and the time to savor was over. She shifted her legs so that she could take him within her and relive those earth-shattering moments from Panama. There was an urgency driving her actions now, one that needed the feel of him inside her again, to revel in the union of—
Justin gripped her shoulders and gently moved her, just enough to break the kiss. “What did I say?” he asked.
“What?”
“The proposition in Windsor. The flowers.”
Mae, adrift in a sea of lust, couldn’t even process the demand right away. She was operating on primal instincts now. “We can talk later. Right now, the only thing I want to do is—”
“What did I say?”
The harshness in his voice cast a brief chill over the heat of her desire. She frowned. “I don’t remember it all. You were just going on about getting some kind of flower—something shaped like a star—and you were going to put it in my hair and—”
Something completely unexpected happened then. Justin pushed her away and moved out from underneath her. It was agonizing, having been so close to that fulfillment, only to have it abruptly ripped away. But even that wasn’t as bad as the look on his face as he sat up. Gone was the humor, the rapture and adoration. Even the arousal was rapidly dissipating.
Mae’s was still going strong, and she couldn’t figure out what had brought about this change. “What’s the matter?”
He raked a hand through his hair. “This is a mistake. We can’t do this.”
She reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled it away. “The hell we can’t. We should’ve been doing this a long time ago.”
His eyes met hers, and she caught a fleeting glimpse of that earlier pain—and longing. It transformed into a steely resolve. “No. We can’t. I can’t. Look…you’re gorgeous, no question. And men have every reason to line up around the block for the chance to be in bed with you. The thing is, I already have been.”
“What…you think someone else needs a chance?” she asked.
He shook his head. “No, no. I’m just saying, for me…well, the thrill is gone.”
She looked him over. “You seem thrilled to me.”
“Not in here.” He tapped his head. “You weren’t a conquest, not exactly, but some of what I said back in the ministry was true. I usually don’t see women more than once, not because of some sinister motive, but because I can’t help it. Once I’ve been with a woman, there’s no mystery. No novelty. There’s no reason to go back once I know what it’s like. And…” He held out his hands helplessly. “I know what it’s like with you.”
Any residual lust within her had dried up and blown away. “You’re lying.”
“The lie would be going through with this, and I respect you too much to play these kinds of games. I like you. I like the time we spend together and don’t want to ruin our working relationship—which is why you need to know the truth. And right now that truth is…I’m just not interested in ha**ng s*x with you.”
Mae didn’t want to believe it. She couldn’t believe it. After all, she’d seen the enthralled way he’d looked at her only moments ago. Of course, she could also see the way he looked at her now, and there was no tenderness or rapture here. His unflinching gaze and level words made her doubt herself, and with that doubt came anger and humiliation that he’d led her to this situation. She seized the former and let it empower her, wrapping it around her like armor so that he couldn’t see the terrible hurt he’d just inflicted. She fixed him with the iciest look she had.
“Get out.”
CHAPTER 29
TECHNICALITIES
“It’s my room,” he reminded her.
Mae had that ice princess mask on, though it had come too late to hide her earlier look, the one that said he’d just punched her in the heart. He tried to focus on the hatred in those sea-colored eyes, because if he looked too hard at anything else, he was going to crack. She was too full of distractions—the br**sts, the lips, the neck. Even the tousled hair was a turn-on, as he thought back to how his hands had just been in it. If she touched him again, he’d take her with no more protests or lies, selling himself into the servitude of an unknown god in order to have one more night with her.
But she didn’t touch him. She stood up and began furiously searching for her clothes. Wordlessly, he tried not to watch as she dressed, but it was kind of impossible not to. And so help him, it was far more provocative than it had any right to be.
Why does her underwear have to be black? he thought despondently. This would be a lot easier if she’d worn beige.
This would be a lot easier if you were making love to her and taking your rightful place in the service of our master, chastised Magnus.