Dane by Dane Read Free Book Online

die trying.
    “I‟m sorry,” his companion murmured in a conciliatory tone.
    Instead of lust, curiosity now colored her expression. Damn his loose tongue. He couldn‟t afford to fuel any rumors that the third Satyr brother, who‟d seemingly appeared from nowhere two weeks ago, was, in fact, mad.
    “That name. It‟s one I reserve for nocturnal pastimes,” he explained coolly.

    “Of course. I understand,” the woman replied. But she didn‟t.
    The excuse had sounded unconvincing, even to him. What sort of man wished to be called by one name out of bed and another in it? Not a sane one. She was wondering what was wrong with him. Most of ElseWorld already thought him a lunatic, and he‟d soon have half of Rome thinking the same if he didn‟t take care.
    Disentangling himself, he sat up from her. His feet hit the cold granite floor, braced wide, and he rested his forearms on his thighs. The floor was remarkably pristine. It struck him then how well-tended the entire temple was compared with the house and grove he now owned.
    Locating his discarded shirt, he dragged it across his lap, blotting his belly and genitals, wiping away evidence of a pleasurable pastime in which he‟d participated, but of which he had no recollection.
    A soft sigh issued from several yards away and he turned his head toward the sound. Another female reclined there, her face slack with sleep, her hair draping the floor in a sweep of red silk. He‟d known she was there, of course, having scented her the moment he‟d awakened. She was pale, her skin almost a blue-white hue and faintly iridescent. Nereid, he guessed. A species that relished violence in their lovemaking. Which explained the scratches he felt on his back. She wore only a slip, creased and twisted high on her hips. Her thighs were sprawled, and though her thatch was moist with his male leavings, it didn‟t surprise him that he had no memory of mating her.
    One of her wrists was cuffed to the scrolled arm of the marble bench upon which she lay. He‟d... no. . It had been Dante who‟d tethered her there sometime during the night. Not he. His gaze clung to her briefly, but he couldn‟t allow it to linger. He found too much pleasure in the sight of a female willingly bound and waiting. Yet upon himself he abhorred chains of any sort, be they constructed of iron, rope, silk, or flesh.
    Arms slid around him. His golden-haired lover had come to reclaim him.

    “Just because the dawn has broken, there‟s no reason for you to go tearing off,” she said softly. Pushing away his crumpled shirt, she slipped onto his lap, straddling him. And he let her, his locked arms bracing his weight on the altar behind him. Doughy breasts compressed against his chest, and her torso slinked along his like a cat‟s. Fingers stroked his nape, and soft lips brushed the overnight beard on his jaw.
    “Will you have me again?”Her slick gusset rocked over his prick, trying to coax him into entering her. His hands went to her thighs, helping her ride him. He felt the faint etching of scales under his palms.
    Like the other female, she was nereid. Cupping her ass, he lifted her higher over him and found his cock with one fist.
    Then he flinched, feeling a familiar, stealthy presence rise to lurk within him. Like a tendril of smoke curling from a latent fire, Dante was stirring. Readying. Waiting to see if the inferno of lust was to be rekindled. If Dane continued along this path, Dante would surely return.
    Would take control and revel in the ensuing fornication until all pleasure was finished and all lust extinguished.
    It was pointless to continue. Any ecstasy would not be his own.
    Still, it was tempting. In the instant before his consciousness was stolen from him, he would enjoy a single delicious spark of carnal satisfaction, like flint striking match before the fire of mating was ignited.
    Was it worth it? With both hands, he squeezed her ass, moving her hard against him, staring at her quivering,