2: PART YOUR LIPS FOR ME PRINCESS

CELESTE

I blinked at him, caught somewhere between disbelief and fury.

Who does this guy think he is? My instincts screamed at me to tell him to fuck off. To give him the middle finger and walk away.

But I didn’t move.

There was something about him, something I couldn’t explain, something that made my body betray me. It wasn’t just about the dream anymore. It was the way he looked at me like he knew something I didn’t, like he’d been waiting for this moment as much as I had.

“Why?” I asked cautiously, narrowing my eyes. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” he said casually, though the gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “Unless you’re afraid.”

Afraid? Of him? He clearly didn’t know me.

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I shot back, sliding off the stool.

His smile widened slightly like I’d just handed him exactly what he wanted. Without another word, he turned and walked toward the back of the bar.

And against every ounce of better judgment I had, I followed.

I followed him, my mind spinning with too many questions. Why was he in my visions for years? Who was he, really? And why did it feel like I’d been drawn here like I was meant to follow him even when I knew better?

I tried to focus on the practical answers, the logical ones. But it was impossible to ignore the way his presence filled the air around me. It was magnetic.

Every step he took seemed to pull me closer, even though a voice in my head was screaming for me to turn around and leave.

And gods, he was stunning.

I hated myself for noticing. I’d met gods, walked among them in Valhalla, and delivered news to demigods on Earth.

I’d seen beauty so unearthly it could bring mortals to their knees. But this man, he had something else, something that made me feel unsteady in ways I couldn’t explain.

He wasn’t just beautiful. He knew it, and it wasn’t fair.

When he pushed open a door, I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the room. It was nothing like I expected.

The office was elegant, filled with bookshelves that stretched to the ceiling and heavy furniture that looked like it belonged in another century. But it wasn’t the room that made my chest tighten, it was what lay beyond it.

Through an open doorway, I saw a bedroom, a suite that screamed luxury. Silk sheets glowed softly in the light of a nearby lamp, and everything about it felt… intimate.

I forced myself to keep my gaze steady as he turned to face me.

“I want a one-night stand with you.”

The words landed so bluntly that for a moment, I thought I’d misheard him.

“What?” I said, blinking.

“I want a one-night stand,” he repeated, his tone calm like he was stating the weather.

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline. None came. He was leaning against the desk, arms crossed, watching me like he had all the time in the world.

I folded my arms, narrowing my eyes. “You’re really straightforward, aren’t you?”

He shrugged, a hint of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Why waste time?”

I tilted my head, studying him. “And you think I’d say yes to that?”

His smirk deepened, and I hated how much it suited him. “You followed me, didn’t you?”

My jaw clenched, my cheeks warming. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t mean I was about to let him win. “Let me guess,” I said dryly. “You think I’ll be begging for more by morning?”

“No,” he said simply. “One night will be enough.”

His confidence was maddening, but I refused to back down. “Good,” I shot back. “Because after one night, I doubt you'd still be interesting to me.”

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes, surprise, maybe. But it vanished as quickly as it came, replaced by that same ticking-off smirk. “No one’s ever said that to me before,” he admitted, his voice lower now.

I raised a brow. “There’s a first time for everything.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he straightened, unbuttoning his shirt with slow, deliberate movements.

I told myself not to look. I told myself to keep my eyes on his face, to hold onto my composure. But as the fabric slid off his shoulders, revealing smooth skin and muscle, I felt my breath catch.

He was perfect. Too perfect.

I hated how much I noticed.

He stepped closer, his shirt falling to the floor. “You can still leave,” he said, his voice softer now, like he was giving me an out.

I lifted my chin, refusing to show weakness. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His lips curved into the faintest smile, and he closed the distance between us. His hands brushed against my arms, then settled on my waist, pulling me closer. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver through me, but I didn’t pull away.

His lips met the sweet spot between my collarbone and neck, slow at first, teasing, before deepening into something that left me breathlessly moaning like I’d been bewitched by his touch.

It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t rushed, either. It was… consuming, like he wanted to leave a mark on me I wouldn’t forget.

And despite him being nothing but arrogant, I melted into him like I had when he kissed me in that final dream.

No—not dream, vision. It was too bloody real to be a dream.

“Part your lips for me, princess.” His words were a seductive command, dark and delicious.

I was on my knees before him, the slick leather of my jumpsuit pressing against my skin, probably sculpting my body in the hottest way imaginable.

The raw hunger in his darkened gaze sent a shiver down my spine, making my core tighten with anticipation.

I parted my lips slowly, letting my tongue ring flash as I tilted my head up to meet his eyes. “Like this?” I murmured, my voice low and sultry, I loved the way his jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides.

“Fuck, yeah. Just like that,” he growled under his breath, his voice thick with need.

He grabbed my slender jaw that looked disturbingly tiny in his huge palms before he shoved its thick length past my lips, stretching them wide, and down my waiting throat.

The warmth of his cock, its sheer size, made my breath catch before I relaxed, taking him deeper.

His groan vibrated through me, sending a rush of heat between my thighs. He wrapped his hand around my ponytail and began to thrust in and out of my mouth with reckless abandon, forcing me to take every inch.

His heavy breathing was so damn enticing, so hot, so sensual, it made me cum, the sensation dripping down my thighs.

“Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees? It’s almost unreal,” His voice was raw and possessive.

I met his eyes, my lashes fluttering. It felt as if his length expanded in my mouth the moment I looked up to meet his eyes. I nodded slightly, knowing my answer would only fuel him further.

His expression shifted. I could see it in those heated eyes, he didn’t like that answer.

“Huh? Then let’s make this stand out,” he yanked my head backward with my ponytail, fucking my mouth with a punishing rage that was likely instigated by the beads of jealousy forming in his chest.

My throat burned, my jaw ached, but the way he pulsed between my lips sent a wicked kind of satisfaction through me. I was unraveling him, breaking him down into nothing but raw, unfiltered need.

His hips jerked, and a deep groan escaped him as he exploded what felt like buckets of cum into my throat that was now leaking down my plump lower lips.

I swallowed around him, savoring the way his entire body tensed before he finally let me go, pulling out with a satisfied grunt.

The look we exchanged in the aftermath was all the confirmation I needed that this was nowhere near over.

The heat between us grew, and before I could process it we found ourselves tangled in something that was inevitable from the start.

Bodies covered in sweat between silk sheets, moans reaching the heavens with every wicked thrust. Hungry hands exploring every inch of each other’s bodies sensually.

Desperate and dirty eye contact that burned into our souls.

It was round after round of merciless railing until we were both mindless with pleasure and fresh out of orgasms. If we hadn’t tired each other out and passed out, we would’ve fucked into the morning.

But all that inexplicable bliss didn’t matter the next morning when I awoke to the warning voices of the fates still echoing in my head.

Still spent, I left before dawn, slipping out of the bed as quietly as I could.

The suite was silent except for his steady breathing. He was still asleep, one arm stretched across where I’d been lying moments before.

I looked back, watching the way the light fell over him. He looked different in sleep, softer, almost vulnerable. Like a god in his golden aura under the soft morning light.

I hated that his unfairly beautiful appearance made my chest ache. I was feeling something I didn't want to feel, something that made me care more than I should.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to focus. This wasn’t who I was. Whatever happened between us last night, it didn’t matter. It couldn’t matter.

I crossed the room to the door, my bare feet silent against the floor. But before I could leave, I hesitated.

I glanced back one last time, looking at him longer than I should have.

I hated that I didn’t have answers. I hated that I didn’t know why he’d been in my vision all those years ago, why I’d been drawn to him, or why I couldn’t stop thinking about him even while knowing that he was nothing but bad news.

With a frustrated sigh and countless unanswered questions, I turned away and leapt out of the window.

But not before I stole one last longing glance at the naked man in the sheets whose vigor overnight had left me with a sore souvenir between my thighs to take home.