Once A Myth (Goddess Isles 1)

He caught me watching him touching himself. His throat worked as he swallowed hard. “Want something, Jinx?”

I tilted my head, finding it hard to breathe. “Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me by two names?” I licked my lips as he throttled his cock, his suit rustling with damp material. “You said I wasn’t Eleanor anymore…I was Jinx as long as I belonged to you. Yet…” I bit my lip as he let himself go and stormed into me.

His big hands cupped my cheek, smearing oil deeper into my skin. “I keep asking myself that same question.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “You aren’t a girl anymore; therefore, you don’t deserve your name. You are a goddess; therefore, you should respond to the title I give you.” He sighed with a growl. “Seems even I break my rules.”

My lips sparked for his. I didn’t want to kiss him. I wanted him to back away and take all his sinning need with him. But I also wanted to see if what’d happened in the bathroom was real. If it was a one-time crazy insane moment, or if such a connection continued smouldering between two people who should never have met.

We stood there, locked against each other, both waiting for something.

Waiting for what?

He was a demon, a monster, a god of sin, emperor of lust, and undisputed king of danger. And I wanted him to prove to me that whatever I’d felt in that bathroom was wrong. That I’d been intoxicated by a violent, vibrant kiss that confused my nervous system into thinking it meant something unbelievable rather than something I should be inherently petrified of.

With a gruff groan, Sully pulled away and reached into his back pocket. His hand came up with a familiar bottle.

A bottle holding the worst witchcraft I’d ever had to endure.

“No.” Immediately, I tripped backward, clanging against the wire that held me captive. “I’m not taking that.”

He moved slowly, methodically, planting himself directly in front of me while I strained against the harness. Never looking away, he unscrewed the tiny vial and held it up. “This is going down your throat, one way or another.”

“I’ll spit it out.”

“I’ll suffocate you until you swallow.” His eyes flashed dark denim. “Or are you forgetting our first meeting and my previous methods?”

“I don’t want it.”

He ran a hand through his hair as if my fight for control bored him. “That’s not a valid argument.”

“Please.” I settled for sweetness—for a different tactic other than war. But unlike the last time, when I’d begged him to stop in the bathroom, driven to the pinnacle of fear, knowing without a doubt that he was seconds away from taking me, he didn’t react.

My voice didn’t hold the vulnerability of before. My please wasn’t from the heart but calculated.

Tapping the bottle with his finger, he cocked his head, his gaze dark and turbulent. “This will make it all bearable. I promise.”

Prickles broke out over my skin. Frustration and claustrophobia. Fear and captivity. “Please…” This time it wasn’t so calculated, it echoed with my rising levels of panic.

“Shush.” He reached out, digging his fingers into my drying hair, a slight shake showing he wasn’t as calm as he portrayed.

Did he feel it too?

Was he growing drunk on the raw chaos between us? The feeling of no longer being human, but a vessel for bottled up need.

Need and fear and turmoil.

“Don’t think about what will be…just focus on what is now.”

I trembled as he once again brought the elixir to my lips, hovering the poisonous liquid over me. I clamped my mouth shut, shaking my head.

“Everything has an expiry date, Jinx. Happiness or hardship. It’s all the same. Nothing lasts forever.”

Our eyes locked again.

For a second, it looked as if he’d tear me from the harness and take me somewhere where he could finish what he’d started when he dragged me from the bath. His control frayed at the edges, showing the cost this preparation had taken. But then ice froze his lust, and cruelly, he pressed the bottle between my lips and tipped.

The splash of flower-infused, sugary liquid coated my tongue.

He pinched my nose and prepared to slap his palm over my lips.

I managed to spit out a small amount. Just a tiny bit. It oozed down my chin as his anger exploded, and his hand suffocated my face with fury.

I didn’t wait until I almost passed out from lack of oxygen this time.

I knew I couldn’t win.

I’d been taught this lesson.

I’d rebelled a little by spitting out a few measly millilitres.

Who knew if it would make any difference to the longevity of the drug, but I’d won a tiny victory, and he’d win his.

Narrowing my gaze, I arched my chin and swallowed.

Instantly, he let me go as if I burned him from the inside out.