I expect him to stop a short distance away, but apparently we’re past that now. He nudges my legs together and moves to kneel straddling them. His powerful thighs pressed against the outside of mine send a shiver through me.
Apollo reaches behind me and gathers my hair in careful hands. It takes a few moments to get it into what feels like a messy bun, and then he runs his hands over my neck and shoulders and upper back, obviously checking for stray hairs that might get tangled in the rope. I have to fight the urge to practically purr at the way he’s taking care of me. Seeming to be satisfied, he sits back and begins running the rope through his hands.
I’ve seen dominants go through this ritual of checking rope before putting it on their submissives, but this feels different. Apollo lends a level of intent to the process that feels new and strange. It feels good.
The soft sound of the silken rope against his palms soothes me even as it makes the tension inside me coil tighter. I don’t understand how these two things can exist at the same time, but none of my rules seem to apply with this man.
Apollo reaches the end of the rope and gives a low hum of approval. “Hermes takes good care of her toys.”
I swallow hard. There’s none of the tightness in his tone that was there earlier, but that doesn’t change the fact that… “I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”
His lips curve. “Okay.” He sifts back through the rope to the approximate middle and gently hooks it around the back of my neck. He eyes me and licks his lips. “If anything…” Apollo shakes his head. “This should feel firm but not pinching. If anything starts to tingle, tell me immediately.”
“I will.” When he still hesitates, I add, “I promise.”
Finally, Apollo nods and begins.
It’s slow, sensual work. That feeling of being taken care of amplifies and expands with each brush of his knuckles and tug of the rope as he carefully binds me. The rope crisscrosses in front of the hollow of my throat, angling down to catch my elbows in a very supportive position that allows me to rest them in the cradle of the silk. Then it crosses in a different pattern between my breasts to bind my hands together, palm to palm in the prayer position. The way he has my arms lifts my breasts and has them pressing tightly against my forearms.
He sits back and studies me. “Perfect.” Apollo shifts around to my back and catches my chin in a firm hand, turning my face to the mirror over the dresser. “Look how beautiful you are, Cassandra.”
As I look into the mirror, it’s not my reflection I’m staring at. It’s Apollo, and the way he is looking at me. He runs his hands lightly over my arms and brushes the undersides of my breasts with his thumbs. “Does anything feel too tight?”
There’s not enough air in the room. He’s teasing me right now and I might die if he doesn’t touch me properly soon. “It feels good.”
“Mmm.” He lightly circles my nipples with his fingers. They’re already pebbled, but his touch makes them tighten. I whimper and instinctively lean back, trying to get away from the pleasure so acute that it feels like pain.
Except there’s nowhere to go. Apollo’s hard body is behind me, and he’s unyielding even as I squirm beneath his touch. “Apollo, please.”
“I will give you everything you need, love.” It almost sounds like a threat.
I can’t process the fact that he called me love. My mind skips right over that word on his lips, spoken in that deep, firm tone. “But—”
He plucks at my nipples, drawing a whimper from my lips. “You can argue all you want, but I will have my way.”
I press my thighs together, but it does nothing to assuage the need pulsing in my pussy. “I really hope your way includes orgasms and quickly.”
His chuckle makes things low in my stomach clench. Part of me still can’t believe this is happening, even as he resumes his position in front of me and eases me onto my back. Apollo’s touch is just as gentle and firm as he is, his hands lingering on my stomach and hips in a way that feels downright worshipping.
As promised.
He nudges my thighs wide and exhales shakily. “Now I can finally see you properly.”
“Apollo—”
“Hush.”
I lift my head and give him an incredulous look. “Did you just hush me?” He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he drags his thumbs up the outside of my pussy, spreading me, and gives another of those deliciously shaky exhales. I bite my bottom lip. “I suppose I can be hushed if you keep doing that.”
“I appreciate your obedience,” he says in a distracted sort of way. He eases two fingers into me and a sound rumbles from his chest that’s almost a growl. “Is all this for me?” He pumps slowly, exploring me. It’s both similar to what he did last night and entirely different. “You’re so wet, you’re going to ruin the sheets.”
I start to make a snarky response, but he presses his fingertips to my G-spot and my ability to think flees, leaving only stark truth in its wake. “It’s for you,” I cry out. “It’s all for you.”
“Good girl.” His low words, his approval, send me over the edge. I orgasm with a cry that surely can be heard through the house. Apollo doesn’t stop, though. He starts stroking my clit with his other hand, watching my face even as he keeps my orgasm going. “Give me another, love. You can do it.”
As if I have a choice.
He leans down and presses a kiss to my knee even as he winds me up tighter, urges my pleasure higher. And, gods, the way Apollo looks at me. His heart is in his eyes, and it feels as if he’s laying it at my feet even though he’s most assuredly in the dominant role. Every touch, every sweep of his gaze over my body… It’s worshipful, but it goes beyond that. He’s not just happy to be fucking someone in general.
Apollo sees me.
The realization comes as he shifts down and presses a lingering kiss to my pussy. He keeps working me with his fingers, but his clever tongue drags leisurely over my clit, again and again. I reach for him without thinking, only to be brought up short by the bondage holding my hands together and my arms bent. “I want—” I fight against the bonds, which drives my need higher. “I need—”
He lifts his head long enough to say. “When I’m finished, you can make requests.”
I blink down at him. “When you’re finished.”
“Yes. You asked me to take care of you. I’m doing it my way.” He nips my thigh lightly. “If my nights with you are numbered, then I’ll be damned before I cut any part of this short.” A shadow flickers through his dark eyes, there and gone too quickly for my desire-addled brain to identify.
Something cracks and gives in my chest. To my horror, my lower lip quivers. “Apollo.” So much in that single word. I care for you. I might more than care for you, but I can’t admit that because if I do, then I’ll never leave. I can’t stay.
“Cassandra.” His response contains just as many layers. I know him well enough to pick up on some of them, if not all. I care, too. I won’t ask you to stay.
The moment stretches out between us, and all the things I can’t say press against the inside of my lips. I didn’t expect to feel this conflicted. I didn’t expect…any of this. It doesn’t change the circumstances, though, and we both know it.