June

I feel his body stiffen the moment I confess what I'd never planned to say.

"Hermes… Mr.—" I try to meet his eyes, but instead, he pulls me into a tight hug. His grip is firm, and possessive, and I exhale, still riding the afterglow. The sex—our dynamic—everything—it lingers in my veins. I didn’t think he’d let me take charge, yet he did. He even accepted my rules.

Tonight, he didn’t feel like Mr. Grande. He felt like Hermes.

"Hermes," I call again, catching another ...