So, no, I don’t need to keep having sex with Zeus. Every night, I tell myself that this will be the night I’ll go sleep in the spare bedroom, or will at least resist telling himyesthe way he keeps insisting before touching me.
And every night, I’m back here again, riding his cock and letting pleasure sweep over me until this entire interlude hardly feels real.
In the morning, I’ll wake up to find him gone and I’ll hate him all the more for his absence. And maybe I’ll hate myself a little for the sliver of disappointment I can’t quite banish. I’ve always had more than my fair share of hate to spread around.
He grips my hips, pulling me down in a grinding motion while he presses against the sides of my mound with his thumbs. The squeeze isn’t direct contact to my clit, but after coming so hard from his tongue, I’m sensitive to the point of pain. It’s as if Zeus has a map of my pleasure in a way that no one else ever has. He’s so fucking methodical that I think he clocked me on our wedding night. He’s only gotten better since then.
Bastard.
Through it all, he never says a word. Not even when I lose control and dig my nails into his chest. “More!”
He gives me more. He always gives me more. Until I overflow with it, my body going tight and hot andgushingall over him. Normally, it’s enough to pull him over the edge with me, to end this awful, wonderful moment where nothing makes sense. Then we’ll clean up and retreat to our respective sides of the bed and sleep. Or he sleeps. I lie there, filled with loathing for him, for this city, and for myself.
Not tonight. He rolls us and shifts back to kneel between my legs, pressing my thighs wide until I’m bent in half. Then he’s inside me again, fucking me in long, punishing strokes that rub deliciously inside me. I don’t mean to reach for him. I sure as fuck don’t mean to grab his hips and pull him deeper yet. “Harder,” I gasp.
He doesn’t hesitate to give me exactly what I ask for. It should be enough to make me feel in control, but I’m the one unraveling and he’s still the perfect ice king. He fucks me like he’s mad at me, like he’s punishing me, but that doesn’t make any sense because who punishes with pleasure?
My orgasm has barely faded and it’s already building again, even stronger this time. If I were more in control, I would shove him off and walk away, leaving him with only his hand for comfort. But I’m too greedy. Instead of pushing him away, I pull him closer and then it’s too late—I’m coming again, and this time he’s coming with me.
In this one perfect moment, my mind is still. I’m not a peaceful person by nature, but I can almost wrap my hands around the concept of it. The fact thatmy husbandis the source of the sensation isbeyond my ability to reconcile. So I don’t. I’ve lived with plenty of dichotomies in my life; what’s one more?
Zeus’s hands flex on my thighs, holding me open even as my body pulses from the strength of the orgasm, drawing me back into the present. “No more, Hera.”
I blink into the near-perfect darkness. I can’t even see his outline above me. Why is he talking to me? We don’ttalkin bed. “What?”
“You’re discreet enough that not even MuseWatch has caught wind of your lover, but I don’t give a fuck. I don’t want himhere.”
My…lover.
It takes my pleasure-drunk brain a beat to catch up. He means Ixion. He’sjealousof Ixion. The thought would make me laugh if I had the breath for it. I’m not fool enough to sleep with anyone except Zeus, not when the parentage of my parasite is so vital to my plans and, by extension, the safety of my family. That’s why I accepted this marriage, after all—to protect my sisters.
But admitting that Ixion and I aren’t having sex feels like giving away a piece of vital information—and power with it. Especially when I’m sure Zeus’s late nights at the office aren’t spent alone. I see the way people watch him. Even though he’s not charismatic like his father, he’s got power and that’s enough to make him attractive to a certain type of person. Ganymede missed becoming Hera and now he practically throws himself at Zeus every chance he gets. And he’s just one person. There are a dozen more young, beautiful things willing to play paramour, and those are only the ones I know about.
Not that I’m jealous. I’m not. I don’t care what my husband gets up to as long as it keeps him distracted from whatI’mup to.
“Hera,” he growls. “I don’t demand much of you, but I’ll be damned before I let you make me a cuckold in my own home.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to tell the truth, but that’s just the endorphins from sex clouding my thinking. If Zeus believes the reason I’m sneaking around is because I’m fucking the head of my bodyguards, then he won’t be worrying about what I’mactuallydoing. Mainly: plotting his death.
“I will keep my extracurricular activities outside the penthouse,” I finally manage. It’s a good idea to leave it there, but I can’t quite help myself. I grab his shoulders and pull him down until I can feel his harsh breathing against my lips. “Andyouwill give me the same courtesy. I don’t want to find someone else’s underwear in our bedroom.”
Zeus is silent for a beat. Then he thrusts into me, his cock already hardening again. We don’t do this. We don’t have sex more than once a night. I open my mouth to remind him of that, but he kisses me before I can get the words out. He nips my bottom lip. “Are you jealous, Hera?”
“No.” And I’m not. It’s about respect,notabout wanting him all for myself. I don’t want him at all. The words feel a little insubstantial, so I shove at his shoulders. “We’ve met our requirement for the night.”
Instantly, he retreats. I tell myself that there’s no regret in my traitorous body as I sit up and scoot toward the edge of the bed. “Now you got me all sweaty. I need another shower.” The words are harsh with recrimination, but I’m not sure if I’m more pissed at him…or myself.
Shutting the bathroom door between us doesn’t offer anyclarity. Strategically, it makes sense to keep having sex with him. He doesn’t know I’m pregnant, and I have no intention of telling him. My parasite is the path forward into the future. One where I’m set up as regent of the Zeus title until the kid comes of age. There’s no space in that future forthisZeus. If he knew what I intended, he’d stop me. It’s best he suspects nothing.
The logic is solid enough. It’s the smart move. If I also get extreme levels of pleasure out of the bargain? Well, Zeus is a giant pain in my ass and being his wife is downright torturous most days. We essentially have a business partnership with a side of fucking, except neither one of us would have chosen the other if there were any other option.
Hedidn’tchoose me. He was in negotiations with my mother for Psyche’s hand in marriage when that shit with Eros and Aphrodite hit the fan—two Aphrodites ago, which defies belief when titles usually shift once a generation. My sister married Eros in a truly reckless effort to live, and that left only me and Eurydice as candidates for our mother’s ambition. I couldn’t let Eurydice take that hit, so I stepped forward to do it instead. Zeus needed Demeter—and her allies—at his back, so he wasn’t in a position to refuse my offer.
I turn on the shower and step in before the water has a chance to warm up. The shock of cold clears my thoughts and shatters the strange spell Zeus wove around me in the bedroom. I duck under the spray and make myself hold that position until the persistent desire to go another round disappears. It takes longer than I want to admit.
I don’t rush through drying off and braiding my hair back. With any luck, he’ll have fallen asleep by the time I return to the bed. Asthe racing of my heart finally slows to something more normal, I can’t help wondering at what happened tonight to cause him to break our silent rules.
He’s been coming home later and later in the evening, and even with Ixion and the others doing their best to keep track of his whereabouts, he slips away every time. Either he’s meeting with a lover—multiple lovers, even—or he’s up to something in relation to Olympus. Possibly both. Probably both.
