Under the Water(Fem. Percy)

Chapter 30 *M*

"You need to not push yourself so hard doing this," Cyreus says. His warm hands press into my back. I melt into my bed as he works the knots out of my muscles.

"I'm a demigod. I don't exactly get chances to make mistakes." I wrap my fingers in a blanket, trying to keep myself from pressing into his touch.

"You almost threw up."

How else was I supposed to make it look like we'd been training longer than we were? Considering how long training at Camp can run, that was the best way because everyone will assume it's just me overworking myself. Again.

I pop one of the aphrie balls Cyreus managed to find into my mouth. It melts on my tongue, and the citrus flavor makes me hum.

Once I swallow, I shift to look at him. "You need to let me do this for you sometime."

"It's too dangerous. I'd say this is too risky, but I'm not getting anything out of it, and it's my fault you're sore anyway."

"Maybe phrase that differently if we ever do get caught."

"But what if that ends up being a lie?"

The thought's enough to make me choke, the heat of his hand against my skin's enough to imagine it. Swallowing, I close my eyes. Might as well...

"Oh come on," I mumble, ears burning as I wiggle my hips. "Are you telling me I'm not worth the risk?"

Without looking at him, I know he's raised an eyebrow. Slowly, he draws his hand up to my neck and squeezes just enough to make my muscles tense. The pressure's released a moment later, but it's enough to prove his point.

"I know," I say. "I just...want to. I know how stressful I am."

He smooths his hand down the plane of my back. The smell of his cologne wraps around me. "You're not stressful. People stabbing you is stressful."

"You keep doing stuff for me, and I feel bad not doing anything for you."

Helping me sneak out, not telling Dad about some of the things I've been doing, giving in when I ask for kisses or hugs, taking me out on a date when that alone could get him in trouble. And all I do is make his life harder. It's what I do with everyone in my life and one of the main reasons I'd never gotten involved with someone before. It's--

It's pathetic.

Cyreus presses his palms flat against the small of my back. "If you want to do something for me, you can teach me English. Some of those stories look interesting."

"If you see a book," I say, "with a hot shirtless guy on the cover, you'll probably like it. Fabio's the hallmark of old romance novels." A pause. He rubs a circle against my back."Do you think my dad put those in here because my mom used to read them?"

No answer, just soft breathing. In soft, slow, repetitive strokes, he slides his fingers up and down my spine. His thighs press to mine, strong and firm, and the heat of his body slips around me. A gasp escapes my lips as he kisses my shoulder and up my neck. Warm breath paints over the shell of my ear. His sharp teeth graze the top; I shudder.

"Depths, I wish I could mark you up. You'd be so pretty," he purrs. Goosebumps raise over my skin as he nibbles at my ear. "A canvas all my own to cover with what I want."

"What's that one from?" I ask.

"The Sculptor of Liona. Do you really want to get me going on stories of all things right now?" The murmured words leave me breathless. Gentle fingers slip along my jaw, and he turns my head to kiss the corner of my mouth.

"I like it when you talk about books." I roll over and wrap my arms around his neck. "You have a nice voice."

"You're going to encourage me to talk too much. But I suppose I can find something for us to read together. Orthello might have some ideas."