God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

“I figured I am. Or I was. I don’t even know what I am anymore.”

“But…you did have sex.”

“Because it was expected, not because I wanted to. My releases were always a physical reaction that never affected me mentally. I just never enjoyed the act. It was more of a chore, really… Why are you smiling like a fool?”

“I just can’t help but feel proud that I made you enjoy the glorious act of fucking.”

“Shut up.” I turn off the hairdryer.

“You just needed a good fucking by yours truly.”

“Nikolai!”

He stands up and wraps his arms around my waist, then glides his fingers beneath the shirt to stroke my skin.

I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I missed his clinginess.

“Bet if I kissed you a little bit, you’ll get in the mood right away. Want to test it?”

“No.”

“Baby, please?” He speaks against my lips and presses his chest to mine.

I breathe heavily even as I plant both hands on his chest. “We already went three rounds.”

“I can do ten. I can’t get enough of you. How about this? Let’s bet how many times I can make you come.”

“Don’t.”

“Your body and mouth sing a very different tune. Your push-and-pull game is spot on.” He darts out his tongue and licks my bottom lip and it trembles beneath his touch. “Did you play it with others before me?”

“No…” I’m surprised my voice comes out steady.

“Because you didn’t want them, but you want me?”

“Shut up.”

“Since when did you start to want me?” he whispers against my ear. “Was it when I pinned you down in the forest? Or was it after you sat on my lap?”

“You wish.”

“Mmm.” He bites on the shell of my ear and I let out a groan. “I love that I’m the only one who sees you like this, all hot and bothered and fucking mine.”

I sink my fingers in his silky strands and tug his head back so that I’m looking down on him. “You’re mine, not the other way around.”

“It’s not a competition. I can be yours while you’re mine.” He grins. “Love these sudden bursts of possessiveness, baby. You better not have had them with others.”

“Hypocritical much? You literally shag everyone.”

“Not everyone… Well, I’m open, I guess, but that was in the past. I’m no longer a manwhore, I swear on Kolya’s honor.”

I fist his hair tighter. “Who the hell is Kolya?”

“Hi, lotus flower.” He rubs his erection against mine. “My name is Kolya and I’m obsessed with your huge cock and beautiful ass.”

I burst out laughing. I can’t help it. “You named your dick?”

“Everyone does.”

“No, they don’t.”

“Yes, they do.”

“If you say so. Why Kolya?”

“That’s the Russian diminutive form of my name. No one but my grandpa and my dad’s side of the family uses it, though.”

“And how long has Kolya been active?”

“Since I was five?”

“Please don’t tell me you had sex at five.”

“No. I had my first gorgeous boner then. Didn’t go well with my mom and everyone in the house when I ran around naked showing it to everyone and pretending it was a gun.”

I chuckle. “Why can I imagine that?”

“You also think it was hilarious, right? I was seriously proud. Only Dad backed up my shenanigans.”

“He seems cool.”

“Coolest dad ever. Before I hit puberty, he sat me down and said, ‘You’re about to go on that adventure you’ve waited for since you were five. Now is the time you can actually use your dick as a gun. Do your thing, son. Just use protection and don’t make me a grandpa.’”

“How…did he take your sexuality? If you came out to them.” I pause. “If you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind any of your questions, baby. Seriously, stop being annoyingly British. To answer you, I didn’t have to come out. Mom and Dad walked in on me fucking a guy and kissing a girl at fifteen. They were shocked, but not in a judgmental way. Mom already felt I liked guys since I’d wink at them like I did girls. She just wasn’t sure. Dad…well, he was like, ‘Of course you would like the variety. It wouldn’t be you otherwise.’ Then he hugged me and whispered, ‘You better use protection and not make me a grandfather when I’m this young, motherfucker. I mean it.’ He’s effortlessly hilarious, my dad. Oh, he’s also British.”

“Really?”

“Well, he has a complicated family history and he definitely has Russian blood, but he was raised in the UK and speaks in your accent.”

“What’s his name?”

“Kyle Hunter.”

“Hmm. I think I might’ve heard of him in Grandpa’s circle. Wait. Your last name is Sokolov, not Hunter.”

“It’s after Mom. Since Dad had a few last names and Mom’s last name belongs to Russian Bratva royalty, they decided to give it to their children. Nikolai Sokolov is actually my late great-grandfather’s name. I’m his gorgeous incarnation.”