For The Love Of A God by Rosanna Leo (ebook reader for comics .txt) 📕

He just wanted her.

And as he noticed the pink flush on the velvet softness of her stomach, he knew he couldn't wait any longer either. He needed her. Now.

Before her orgasm ceased, Eric slid up her body and plunged himself into her. He gasped upon feeling the slick grip of her tight sheath. “Aw, sweetheart, you're tight,” he grunted.

By Zeus, he'd never felt anything like this. She felt perfect for him. Perhaps he'd waited too long for this, and that was why she felt so damned good. Surely this couldn't be Maia's power over him. He was a god. No woman could have such power over him. He was the one who wielded the power, the gift of debilitating another with his lovemaking.

And yet, as he thrust into her welcoming body, as he gazed down at her incredible face, he knew he was lost. Her dark eyes were tinged with need and desire and brought out the need and desire in him. She'd claimed him as surely as he'd claimed her.

Dammit. He was falling in love with her.

Maia could barely see. Each thrust from his strong body brought her closer to a white-hot blindness which made his image sway and distort. As much as it terrified her, she reveled in it. She'd never felt such extreme pleasure, and doubted she ever would again. Even if the experience left her blind and numb, she'd never regret a single, ecstatic moment.

And even though she knew this was unlike anything she'd ever felt, it was devastatingly familiar as well. As if she'd felt him like this before.

It wasn't possible.

And then it hit her. Of course. In her dreams, Eryx had made her feel like this. Only the intensity of the dreams had always faded upon awakening.

She clung to Eric, her mind railing. How could this man, this stranger, be so much like the god in her dreams? Could he be the reincarnation of a lost deity? Did such things even exist? Had they ever existed, or was it simply her lonely, fertile imagination which had created him?

But as Eric shifted her body and glided deeper inside her, all her thoughts scattered. He was so deep, deeper than she had imagined anyone could get. He was reaching for her soul.

And her soul was crying out for him.

The power generated by their frantic coupling was enough that Maia felt removed from her body. Elevated. Resurrected. She clung to him, as if in fear of losing him. He buried his face in her hair, as if trying to memorize her scent. And as the tsunami surged through her core, she cried out one name.

"Eryx!"

As his body was racked under the force of his own orgasm, he grew rigid under her cold hands. He was staring past her face, his eyes glazed, as if listening for an echo in her voice. A repeat of that word.

Neither spoke. Neither moved. The only sound in the room seemed to be their skipping heartbeats. Minutes later, they lay together, their bodies still joined and tangled. There was much panting and heaving as their lungs sought to find a matching rhythm.

Maia was afraid to even look at him. She'd cried out another man's name! One who didn't even exist.

Eric would hate her.

But as he finally lifted his head from where it rested on her shoulder, she was shocked to see joy in his eyes. And tears.

He cupped her cheek gently and kissed her mouth. “Maia..."

"Oh God.” She felt tears gather in her own eyes. Tears of shame. What had she done? And why wasn't he kicking her out of his bed?

He kissed her again, making her face crumple into a confused frown. “Maia. You know me."

She barely heard a word he said, she was so overwrought, and began to babble. “I'm so sorry. I don't know what happened. I guess I just got carried away. It's just you remind me of the statue... Oh God, this is coming out all wrong. I swear I've never called someone else's name before!"

He grinned at her as if humoring her, and ran a hand over her hair. It was not the reaction she expected.

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"How could I be mad at you?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “You called my name."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah,” he replied, his face happier than happy. “You did. My true name. The one given to me thousands of years ago."

Thousands of years ago?

No. She shook her head. This was wrong.

He was making fun of her. She should have guessed this was how it would end.

She pulled away from Eric, or whoever he was, even though moving away from his body stung her with immediate regret and pain. “I don't know what you're talking about."

His brow creased. “You know who I am, Maia. You knew me the first time you saw me. You recognized me as the person I was eons ago, in the time before Christ. I am Eryx, god of love. Your Eryx."

And though he smiled at her again, she felt a horrible chill inch down her spine, squashing her need to pull him to her and love him again.

She crawled away from him, putting as much distance between them on the bed as she could. But Eric reached for her, tried to stroke her hand, even as it shook. “No,” she cried. “You're making fun of me. The nerdy museum girl. You must have had me pegged right away.” She jumped off the bed and reached for her gown, shoving it over her head. Frantically, she searched for her heels and bag. “I need to go. Now."

"Maia! You can't. I have to keep you safe!"

"No!” The word came out as part shout, part sob.

A stunned Eric, knowing he'd terrified her, couldn't move a muscle as he watched her gather her things and leave.

He'd hurt her, disappointed her. And as much as he needed to keep her with him, in his arms, he knew he'd have to find another