For such a brutal motherfucker, he really is a softy when it comes to ensuring I’m right there with him. If I was any less determined to make him suffer, that might make me waver. I can’t afford to.
My husband is my enemy. My city’s enemy.
“You’re talking so much, you almost sound like you’re working yourself up to it. If you’re too scared, just go home. I can finish myself.” The words feel too sharp, but I can’t help it. I have to remember that we’re on opposite sides of an uncrossable line.
Instead of getting pissed, he relaxes against me and chuckles. “There she is. You had me worried.”
What the fuck is he talking about? “I—” A horrifyingly delicate whimper slips from my lips at the invasion of his cock. I’m wet enough that he doesn’t have to fight quite as hard as he did last night, but it’s still a tight fit.
He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath, though. Hephaestus palms one breast with his hand and the other winds around my thigh, hitching it higher in the process, to press lightly against my clit. I’m so oversensitized that any touch stronger than that would be too much, and damn him, he knows it.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” He fucks me slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. I’m not certain he doesn’t. He pinches my nipple lightly, earning another of those godsawful whimpers. He drags his mouth along my throat up to my ear. “You’re much more pleasant when someone is playing with your clit.”
“You son of a—”
Another nipple pinch steals my words. Hephaestus changes his angle a little and, oh fuck, this feels good. I’m melting for him, and even as I try to fight it, my body has taken over. He keeps up that light touch on my clit, fucking me right to the edge of a third orgasm.
How did I lose control so thoroughly?
I’m a shaking, whimpering thing, and all I can do is cling to him and take what he gives me. Later… Later, I’ll make him pay for this.
After he makes me come again.
His voice is rough with pleasure, lower than normal and gravelly. “Gonna be a requirement for every talk going forward. Spread those thighs and put you in an agreeable mood. If you’re very good, I’ll even give you this cock again.”
I need to push back against this. I have to. Because the picture he’s painting isn’t disagreeable. I can envision it all too clearly. Us trading barbs while he’s fingering me… While he’s going down and putting that vicious tongue to work. “Oh fuck.”
“That’s right, Wife. Come on your husband’s cock.”
I don’t want to. I desperately don’t want to give him this. But it’s too late to go back. I cry out as I come, clenching around his cock. He barely waits for my orgasm to ebb before he picks up his pace, fucking me roughly for several long minutes, and then coming with a curse that makes me shiver.
Then the motherfucker pulls out of me and slaps my ass.
I’m still trying to find words when he returns from my bathroom, drops down next to me with one heavy arm draped over my waist, and passes the fuck out. I blink in shock. The asshole is snoring.
My thoughts are too scattered after this hard pivot to fully comprehend what just happened. That was…good sex. Really good. It doesn’t mean anything, and it certainly won’t divert me from my goals, but it’s more than a little shocking. I don’t know why he’s staying, though. It doesn’t make sense. He hates me as much as I hate him, and while he might be wholly outclassed for his title, that doesn’t mean he’s a complete fool. There’s no way he’d sleep in my bed without good reason.
Surely the reason isn’t because he slept as little last night as I did?
A yawn catches me by surprise. I’m going on forty-eight hours without sleep. Not my longest stretch, not by a long shot, but the longest in years. Even when Adonis and I were on our off times, he was always there for me to crash in his bed, the familiar cadence of his breathing enough to send me under. That’s not an option anymore, and I have no one to blame but myself.
I yawn again. Hephaestus is heavy, his arm a solid weight pinning me to the mattress. I try to shift away, but he tightens his hold on me, tucking me against his larger body. I curse. “You’ve got to be joking me.” I poke his shoulder. “Hephaestus. Hephaestus, you can’t stay here.”
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t respond at all, other than letting out another quiet snore. I sigh. Some soldier he is. I could claw his eyes out or smother him right now; he might wake up to prevent me from killing him, but I could definitely maim. Surely he doesn’t think so little of me?