She should know better. I wasn’t going to give up that easily without an admission of how badly she still wants me, of howfully I still own her. Because no matter how hard her betrayal hurt, there’s still a part of me that longs to know she’s mine.
Even gods have weaknesses, and she’s my greatest one. In the same way, I’ll make sure to become her greatest weakness. “Let’s see how hard you can squirt for me, my little curse,” I whisper against her ear, pinching her clit, my fingers still pounding inside of her.
It's then I hear it—a few moans, loud enough to shake the brick walls, her body almost collapsing on the floor as her juices run down my knuckles.
I catch her right before she hurts herself, and, of course, there’s no thank you in return, just a few curses as she gathers what strength she has to stand on her own.
I love it when she’s feisty, especially as I know she’s barely functioning at the moment. This woman’s strength never ceases to surprise me, and neither does the way she pushes me back like she needs space for a second. Not something I can allow right now. Not something I’m sure I ever want to allow.
She rises to her feet, her whole body trembling like she’s moments away from going into shock. But then her gaze hardens, eyes burning with anger, “I won’t let you have this power over me,” she spits back, and I can’t help but laugh at the irony.
“Well, I didn’t see things that way a second ago when you squirted all over my fingers.” I raise my two digits, just in case she forgot what just happened.
She turns and heads for the stairs, as if I ever gave her fucking permission to leave.
I let her take a few steps so she can think, for a moment, that she’s free. That I might be that weak.
I’m not.
I catch her arm before she can climb the first step.
She fights me, trying to pull free, but ends up slipping and landing on her ass a few steps up. I have to give her credit, she’s got more determination than any other woman I’ve ever met. Unfortunately for her, it’s me she has to deal with. And I don’t do failure. I’ve failed myself enough by letting her live after she tried to end me.
“Hmmm…” I growl, the darkness still refusing to subside. “A: You’re not going anywhere. For a very long time,” I say, kneeling on one step while making room between her legs. “B: I’m not done with you.” I lean over her, my body towering over hers, our lips inches apart.
I stay there for a few seconds, letting the confusion in her mind clear itself and allowing desire to overcome ambition. She looks at me, like she just came face-to-face with a wrecking truth. The chemistry between us, that magnetism, that whatever-the-fuck-it-is, is louder than reason, louder than anything before.
“Take…” I pause, breathing deep, trying one last time to revert to a more human size so I won’t hurt her, considering she’s already hurt. Though it’s useless. It's just time I stop fighting. “Take what you really want,” I command, my gaze burns into hers like a fucking comet, consumed with an unearthly need to have her, while I’m still asking myselfwhat the fuck am I doing?
six
-Brynn-
It’s like there’s a veil over my mind as I keep trying to convince myself this is a dream, that I’ll wake up from soon. Because there’s no way my body would betray me like this. I know Ares does things to me no other man ever could. Makes me feel things. Makes me vibrate. But this has gone too far. I’m too out of control. Too out of touch with myself. Like something shifts inside me every time I’m around him, and I only function like a wooden golem. My mind, my body, my heart—all under his spell.
There’s no point in lying to myself. I knew I was doomed from the second the door opened, and no matter how badly I wanted to deceive myself that I could face him without consequences, seeing him face-to-face rewrote everything I’d prepared for. Funny how just the proximity to a person can cancel self-will or any kind of plan ever made, the line between revenge and need blurring into something undefinable.
I know he’s part-human, part-devil—or whatever name fits the monster inside him—and I should’ve been scared seeing his dark-side taking over. But nothing about me is functioningnormally right now. I’m just too lost in front of the impressive display of muscles...strength...and raw power.
I should’ve said something, but all I could do was accept whatever he might’ve given me as long as it wasn’t pure rage. Because I know damn well that’s what I deserved. He has no idea what this is all about, and that I’m keeping him in the dark on purpose; expecting him to understand when I’ve done nothing to help him with that.
Still, I don’t have time for explanations right now, my mind feeling too dumbstruck to form one. Or maybe it’s because I don’t want to get into a fight, not before he stills the torment that’s been ripping from my body for far too long.
His touch is like fire, mystifying, addictive, leaving unerasable trails behind.
I just never considered this. That my own body would give in like this. That I would be drowning in the sensation of completion, yet somehow still yearning for more.
Maybe the solitude caused me to lose my mind. I see no other logical explanation for it. The need to see, sense, feel another human being this close. Or maybe that’s just a lie I tell myself to deal with this. When Elias died, I spent months alone. I didn’t want to talk or see anyone else. So that’s the best proof that I don’t need company. Yet somehow, I do need him.
Just when I thought there was nothing left for him to ruin, because my world started spinning and nothing, except the rhythm of his breath, made sense. That’s when I realized this has gone too far. It’s dangerously addictive.
I try to escape as soon as my body finds a pleasure I never imagined possible. Something so violent, it felt almost out of this world. The final line between ecstasy and agony.
I don’t get far before he caught me. To be honest, I’m not even sure where I was going. Maybe just testing the limits, hoping our reality was distorted enough for him to let me go. But deepdown, I know this was just fucking, or just him proving how much power he holds over me. He didn’t forgetorforgive me. It’s just our bodies refusing to stay away from each other. Maybe for one last time.
He catches my waist, turning me until my back hits the steps.I’m still trying to recover from whatever the fuck he did to me against the wall. Not that I didn’t enjoy it. In fact, I think I enjoyed it far too much.
I don’t get a chance to get back my senses before he finds room between my thighs, his strength overpowering me as he climbs on top of me.
