Chapter 16 RóISE

"You did not say that to him." Kara's laugh is almost worth the confrontation with the most stubborn underboss in history.

My older cousin doesn't smile as much as she used to, not that my uncle notices. He's too busy growing his kingdom. When he does notice Kara, it's to pressure her to give him another grandchild.

She's not the same girl she was at sixteen when she agreed to marry a man she'd never met from a different country. And the eighteen-year-old with stars in her eyes who thought that marriage might be like my parents is long gone too.

Fiona's spoon filled with pistachio gelato dangles from her hand inches from her mouth as she stares at me with wide eyes. "He's the Genovese underboss."

"That doesn't make him a god." Not even the god of war.

I can't believe the Ares I shared my body with so enthusiastically is Miceli-the asshole -De Luca.

My cousins still don't know that Ares and Miceli are the same guy and I have no intention of telling them.

Besides, they're not the same. Not really. I wasn't the only one playing a role that night. Ares had a sense of humor and he rocked my world.

Before kicking me out of his hotel room. Maybe they're not so different after all.

Two Months Prior

Ritz-Carlton, Portland

Ares slides his hand down my back and lets it rest right above my bottom, using it to guide me to the bank of elevators. His room is on a floor that requires a keycard to access .

He doesn't kiss me on the silent ride up and I'm glad.

My mind is spinning with what I'm about to do, but my body is so eager, my panties are soaked. Excitement thrums through me making it hard to think.

To even breathe.

If I hyperventilate in this elevator, I'm going to drop dead from embarrassment.

Suddenly two hands cup my face and tilt my head so I'm looking into a pair of unfathomable eyes. "Okay?"

I try to nod, but it's an abortive movement, my muscles jerking from conflicting fight or flight signals.

And my brain is screaming, "Stay."

This is exactly where I want to be. About to have sex for the first time with a man of my choosing.

"Do you want this?" he asks again.

"If I say no?"

"I order you a car and make sure you get home safely."

Not a rideshare. Not for a man who stays on a private floor of a hotel like this one.

"I want to stay. I choose you." He can't know what I mean, how profoundly those words impact my own mind.

But I am taking back my choice for tonight. This is my stolen moment to be the woman I always wanted to be and will never get the chance to know again.

"I'm glad you chose me. Helios was pissed though."

"Was he?" How did Ares know?

"Because I would have been if you had chosen him to dance with instead."

"You make it sound like you were both fighting for my attention."

"Weren't we?"

"There was no fight." The second he returned without Lala, my focus was entirely on Ares.

He spins me around and slams his lips down on mine.

Okay, so we're done checking in.

Kissing him back, I mold my mouth to his and get lost in the sensation of our lips and bodies pressed together so intimately.

I'm climbing him like a tree when the elevator dings. Moaning, my lips cling to his but he doesn't break the kiss. He wraps an arm tightly around me and there is the sensation of movement while our mouths eat at each other.

This is passion. The stuff you read about, but I sure as heck have never experienced .

Every place our bodies touch is on fire, including my lips. I wrap my legs around his torso and don't care that my short skirt is riding up so high my panty clad butt is on display.

He stops and there's movement behind me. Then we step into darkness, no light flickering against my closed eyelids.

My back slams against a wall and I use the leverage to push my aching ladybits against his hard abs. I writhe and buck, so close to something cataclysmic, but I can't quite reach it.

Ripping my lips from his, I pant, "Help me, Ares. Make me come."

I've climaxed before. On my own fingers, but this is already so far beyond that for sensation, I'll probably pass out when I actually come.

" Cazzo . You're a wildcat." He bites my earlobe and presses into me, forcing my thighs further apart.

"Aphrodite, not Cotso." Whoever that is, she's not here.

" Cazzo means fuck. Exactly what I'm going to do to you after I make you scream my name."

After? I can get behind that.

He slides his forearms under my thighs and lifts until my most private place is level with his face. He leans in and inhales, nuzzling right into my intimate flesh through the soaked crotch of my panties.

Jayzuz, Mary and Joseph!

He chuckles, sending hot air against me and making me shiver. "Are you Irish, Aphrodite?"

Shoot, I said that out loud. "Know a lot of blonde Irish women?"

It's pretty artful prevarication for how muddled he's got my brain right now.

All my thoughts are sitting in my cooch.

He doesn't bother to answer, his mouth is too busy exploring. Sparks of ecstasy are exploding all over my ladybits and I grab his hair because that's all there is to hold onto.

Ares growls, the sound vibrating against my clitoris. And I lose what's left of my rational thought.

Riding his mouth and yanking his hair, I babble about coming and gods among men and all sorts I won't want to remember later.

He bites my swollen bud right through the scrap of fabric covering it. And I detonate, screaming, "Ares!" at the top of my lungs.

That's not enough for the god of war though. He rubs up and down over my sensitive nub, not letting me catch my breath, but hurtling me toward another explosion .

When it comes, my body arches until every muscle is contracted, my shout incoherent and long.

Then everything releases, pleasure driven lethargy taking over my body. I lose my hold on his hair. My legs dangle bonelessly and my head lolls back against the wall.

With a masculine sound of pure satisfaction, Ares shifts me down his body so he can carry me with one arm under my bottom. His other hand grips the nape of my neck, keeping my boneless body from listing to the side.

Light comes in through the floor to ceiling windows and I get the impression of a large living room with a truly spectacular view of Portland at night. Ares doesn't stop until we're in the bedroom. Then he drops me onto the bed and I flop onto my back.

"Don't go to sleep." He rips his shirt over his head without unbuttoning it. "We are nowhere near done."

"Not sleeping." I wave my hand languidly. "Just resting up for the next round."

My eyes lock onto the tattoo of a snarling wolf that covers the bulging muscles of his right arm. Below are two words I don't recognize, but I guess what they mean. Famiglia sempre . Well at least the family part.

Sempre probably means loyalty.

Unlike the one on my inner forearm, there's no color in any of the ink.

The intensity of this man tells me that his tattoo probably carries as much meaning for him as mine does to me.

Stop it, brain. Not speculating on who Ares is under all the sexy.

I'm here for one reason only. To turn in my V-card.