God of Fury (Legacy of Gods, #5)

by Rina Kent

game over for him. So I press my chest to his. Firm muscles glue to mine and the thud of his heartbeat slams and mixes with my own. What the fuck is this man doing to me? Why on earth can’t I keep my hands off him? Does he have witch blood? Is he made of fucking drugs? “You’re a fucking nightmare,” he mutters, his throat working beneath my fingers. “Your nightmare.” “I hate you.” “I don’t.” “You’re fucking crazy.” “About you,” I whisper against his lips and claim them with a guttural moan. He doesn’t push away. He certainly does not turn his face or look like he’s uncomfortable with the attention. In fact, the exact opposite happens. His lashes flutter over his cheeks as he groans, and I eat that sound the fuck up. I eat him the fuck up.

“What about you? Did you fuck anyone else? I’m going to need names and addresses.” “You’re mental.” He smiles a little before he shakes his head. “There was no one. I don’t even like sex.” “You obviously do.” “Only with you,” he whispers, his fingers stroking my pulse point beside the bandage. Only with you.

Dear fucking God, I know you’re out there somewhere and I beg you, take this arsehole and give my son a normal lover. Just once, I want fucking normal. First I get a psycho son. Okay, fine. Love that. Best challenge of my life and pretty sure I passed it. I didn’t need to have my daughter with a psycho boyfriend. And now, it’s the psycho’s psycho fucking cousin. What the fuck have I done to deserve that? Was I a mass murderer in a past life or something?

“Levi!” My wife pulls on my shirt’s sleeve from her position on the table beside me. “You’re staring.” “Oh, I’m sorry. I was supposed to be fucking glaring,” I say loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Don’t even think about being a dick. You did enough damage this entire morning.” “I don’t like the idea of him in our son’s room.” “He’s a twenty-three-year-old man, Levi. Stop treating him like a child. Besides, Nikolai is just so well-mannered.” “Have you seen the tattoos?” “You mean how beautiful they are?” “How many there are, Princess.” “So what? Those don’t make his personality. Since when do you judge a book by its cover?” “Since it walks into my house and steals my son.”

I’ll never forget how his pulse diminished beneath my fingers, how I was begging and kissing his blue lips and asking, imploring, praying for a God I’ve never believed in to give him back to me. I’ll do anything if you give him back. If he asked for my life in return, I’d spill my guts on a platter. I don’t want a life without him. I can’t have a life without him.

“You’re the most beautiful thing on earth,” he whispers against my neck, peppering kisses there as he meets my gaze in the mirror. “I’m lucky you allowed me in your life.” Kiss. “I’m lucky you love me.” Kiss. “I’m lucky you’re letting me fight your demons with you.”

This is the happiest moment of my life and I want to soak in it for as long as possible. “The rest of our lives, huh, baby?” He nods, lips curling into the most gorgeous smile. “The rest of our lives, baby.” “I wouldn’t have it with anyone but you.” My mouth reaches for his and I kiss him slower this time, taking my fill of him. I love this man with everything I have and don’t have. I love him with my sane and insane parts. He’s my lotus flower. My Prince Charming. The love of my life. Mine.