Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 539(@200wpm)___ 431(@250wpm)___ 359(@300wpm)
“You’re not in charge.”
“Right now, I am.” I press her wrists to her stomach, pinning them there. “Spread your fucking legs, wife.”
Her slow smile makes what little reasoning I have short out. Her words sweep away the rest. “Make me.”
“Never the easy way with you.” I should stop this now. There’s no way I come out on top of this situation; our wedding night more than proved that. I don’t care. I need to put her in her place, and if I have to drive her out of her mind with pleasure to do it, then damn it, I will.
I shift down her body and use my shoulders to force her legs open. For all her smart mouth, she doesn’t fight me, letting her legs fall wide. I spare the thought to wish for better lighting to see her properly, but there’s no time to pause with lust and rage in the driver’s seat.
“If you don’t—”
I cover Aphrodite’s mouth with my free hand. “You want me to stop, tap my wrist with your fingers.” I ignore the mocking look in her dark eyes. I might be a right bastard and a murderer, and I might fantasize about killing my wife more than is healthy, but I don’t want to force her. Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.
With that boundary clearly defined, there’s nothing holding me back from settling between her thighs and dragging my tongue over her pussy. She’s soaked, and the fact that I don’t know if it’s for me or leftover from Pandora drives me out of my mind.
I need her to lose control. It’s the only way I can regain it.
Another lick. How dare she taste this good? She whimpers against my palm, and that spurs me on. My wife is not infallible. It doesn’t matter why she’s hanging on the edge, only that I’m there to exploit it. I have to force myself to slow down, to not let her know how much I’m enjoying this. I rub her clit with the flat of my tongue, back and forth, back and forth, testing her reaction.
She might be a liar in every other way, but she can’t lie to me like this. Her thighs shake and clench around my head. Her pussy is so wet, I can’t resist dipping down and shoving my tongue into her. Too good. Everything about her is a nightmare in how perfect it is.
A harpy in the body of a nymph.
She was sent to destroy me, but I’m going to destroy her first.
12
APHRODITE
I’ve made a miscalculation. I thought I could control this interaction with Hephaestus just like I controlled it last night. He knew I didn’t need foreplay, and I didn’t peg him for the type to enjoy it anyway; more like he gets in, gets out, and rolls over to snore his way through the night.
Apparently I was wrong.
The man between my thighs, currently fucking me with his tongue, is a stranger. He’s obviously furious with me about Pandora, but his solution was to eat me out? It doesn’t—
Hephaestus moves back to my clit, working me with that slow, intentional stroke. Even as I tell myself to be still and silent, a whimper slips free. I didn’t lie before. Getting Pandora off had me so turned on I couldn’t see straight. I fully intended to come home, strip down, and give myself as many orgasms as it took to exhaust me.
Maybe then I’d be able to sleep.
Hephaestus sucks my clit into his mouth and it’s too much. My back bows. My thoughts flicker out. I come so hard, it scatters the world around me.
He releases my hands slowly, as if he expects me to be able to move. “Keep them there.”
I can only blink down at him, this furious husband of mine. There isn’t a single response ready to deploy, even if he wasn’t still covering my mouth with his wide palm. He shifts a little and then his fingers are there, pressing into my pussy.
I thought I was done.
I thought he was done.
Apparently I was wrong on both accounts.
He goes back to my clit, pressing remarkably soft kisses there even as he fucks a third finger into me. I’m almost too full, but my body can’t decide if it hates it or loves it, not with the conflicting signals being sent. Hard and soft. Rough and gentle.
Oh fuck, I’m going to come again.
I start to lift my hand, to tap out. A denied orgasm isn’t ideal, but neither is letting my husband know he’s got my number down. People get cocky when they think they have your pussy on a leash. Sex has never been enough to cloud my judgment, and it won’t be now, but no reason to give him ideas.
It’s too late.
He curls his fingers inside me, testing. His growl of satisfaction is the only warning I get. He zeroes in on my G-spot. Even after the last orgasm, I’m too tightly wound. Too on edge. I come with a scream I’m relieved is muffled.