Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89763 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 449(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
My breath feels harsh in my throat. “Do you think they’ll like it?”
“Yeah.” He shifts his grip, one hand finding my elbow and the other sinking into my hair. “You look wet, Ariadne. You like imagining them?”
Them. The thought is laughable. There’s only ever been him, and I’m not at a place in my life where I can picture being with anyone but him. It’s too big of an ask. But I have my pride, and I’ll die before I admit that I’m wet because I’m putting myself on display for him, because of the way his eyes go dark and hot when he looks at me. As if he’s barely controlling himself. As if he wants to devour me whole.
“Of course I do.” I clear my throat. “They’re gentle and selfless and give me exactly what I need.”
He huffs out a ragged chuckle. “Liar.” His hand in my hair goes tight enough to hurt, surprising a moan out of me. “You want every experience too desperately for soft to ever satisfy you.”
“How would you know?” I snap. “All you’re capable of is violence.”
“Maybe.” The amusement is gone from his voice. “Want to prove me wrong? Show me what that pretty pussy needs, Ariadne.”
“W-What?”
“If soft is what you’re craving, then show me how you come so much harder when you touch yourself softly. How much better your orgasm is without my violent hands on you.”
Now is the time to tell him to fuck right off. He keeps pushing me. It’s not enough that I’m not telling him no. It’s not enough that I’m a willing participant with him guiding me. No, I have to play out my poor decisions without any prompting from him. My pride demands I stand and walk away. But my panties are on the floor and my clit is pulsing in time with my racing heart.
And there’s a fact that Asterion’s cock is a hard imprint against the front of his jeans, mere inches from my face. It looks painful, and I’m surprised by the vindictiveness that rises in me in response. It feels almost like power.
In his apartment, I orgasmed more times than I can count, but he never took pleasure for himself. Not like he did in the maze. And now, again, he’s denying himself. All to focus on leaving me unbalanced and at his mercy.
It makes me want to punish him.
If I’m to be a victim to my own foolishness, then he damn well will be, too.
I straighten abruptly, and he barely has time to get his hand out of my hair to keep from hurting me for real. He opens his mouth, but I don’t give him a chance to say a single word. I turn around and sink onto his lap, right on top of his hard, trapped cock. Again, he makes that intoxicating sound, a hissed exhale that would be too soft to notice if he wasn’t doing it against my ear.
I widen my stance, spreading his legs in the process, and lean back against his broad chest. He’s tall enough that he has a perfect line of sight to where I delve my hand between my thighs and stroke my clit. Softly. Slowly. As if I can’t feel his coiled violence at my back.
The shock on his rough face is almost enough to make me orgasm right then and there. It’s not often I surprise this man. It’s not often I get the upper hand in any situation. I have it now, though.
He grips the edge of the bench, his knuckles white. It only drives my desire higher. I keep circling my clit with my middle finger, and though I’ve touched myself to countless orgasms, I’ve never watched it happen in a mirror. Never seen the way my pussy blooms with need. Never watched my fingers grow slick with desire.
It’s still not enough.
My orgasm hovers at the edge of my awareness, but no matter how I touch myself, it skitters away. I don’t want him to be right. I desperately want to put him in his place. But… “Asterion.”
“Tell me what you need.” His voice is barely a whisper in my ear.
We’re in a dressing room in the middle of a public boutique with three dangerous Olympians on the other side of the door. Now is the time to stop this. To let reason take the reins again.
But reason never had a foothold when it comes to me and Asterion.
“Fuck me.” I don’t mean to speak the words, but I don’t take them back once I give them voice. I see the immediate denial on his face, so I keep speaking. “Please, Asterion. I need your cock. I need you to fill me up and make me come. I might die if you don’t.”
He closes his eyes and, for a moment, I think he’ll actually tell me no. It would be the smart thing to do. But if my need for him is a sickness in my blood, then it’s a trait we share. He urges me up so he can dig his hand into his pocket. A breath later, he presses a condom to my palm. Then he makes quick work of his pants, shoving them down just far enough to free his cock. “You sure?”