I meanextremelyready for bed. That’s why I went through twenty boxes today until I found a piece of lingerie I remember seeing on the day Ares left to set up Kharon.
I find him lying in bed, right on top of the covers, comfortably resting between the decorative pillows, watching TV. He even changed into a pair of shorts… no T-shirt. Truth be told, it would be a sin for him to wear one.
He doesn’t even look at me as I slip into the room, then into my side of the bed, under the cover. And I’m not trying to look desperate—yet.
He’s watching a documentary about the Mayans and different practices, which makes him flare his nostrils, even hiss a couple of times, meaning they’re probably making shit up to fill in the gaps. I don’t ask, though, just wait half an hour for it to be over, only for him to keep ignoring me and stare at commercials.
While I could understand the interest in the latest vegetable chopper, things got pharmaceutical, and last time I checked, he’s a god.
Okay, that’s it.
Pushing the covers aside, I climb on top of him before he gets a chance to react. Not that I get any reaction out of him. He just tilts his head slightly to the right to get a better view of the TV.
“Ares,” I whisper, calling for his attention.
Not that he seems in the mood to acknowledge my presence. “I’m watching TV,” he mutters, focused on the commercial like it’s the most interesting thing on earth.
I wonder if this is what being married feels like?
TV:We’ve got your back... and your butt. 100% guaranteed.
I turn my head to the TV for a second, just to make sure I heard that right, then burst into almost hysterical laughter as I realize it’s a hemorrhoid ointment ad. “Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you have this kind of trouble.”
He scoffs, utter annoyance in his voice. “This shit doesn’t work on me.”
“What—the ointment?” I laugh again, unable to contain my amusement. “That’s okay, I’m pretty sure they have clinics where they can help you.”
At least now I've got his attention. “Brynn, don’t piss me off, I’m one second away from combusting,” he mutters, his irritation palpable.
That's definitely my cue to stop. “Okay… I was just trying to loosen things up. It’s been a tense day for everyone,” I say, pressing my hands against his chest and slightly lowering myself on his bulge.
I have zero skills when it comes to seducing him into seeing thingsmy way. But the thing is, that's not what I'm doing. I'm just not fighting tonight. Fighting him, fighting my demons… even fighting myself.
Ares still looks like he's pissed, giving me some kind of godlike death stare, which only makes the throb between my thighs worse. “This kind of shit that doesn't work on me… this wholeseduce your way into getting what you wantthing,” he growls, probably expecting to call me out on my bluff.
I have to admit, I might have partially relied on some womanly skills to get him more relaxed yesterday, but not tonight. Tonight it’s just me, letting myself feel the need to belong to someone.
“That’s not what I’m trying… I swear. It’s just that… what you did today back there… I know what it meant to you. You should know it meant something to me, too.” I let the words settle, heavy like the confession they bring to light.
He means something to me. Much more than I’m saying, even more than I’m letting him see. “Let’s not fight. At least for a night.” My lips descend over his, stealing a kiss he’s not yet ready to give.“Let’s make peace, not war,” I whisper again, letting my robe drop.
I swirl my hips against him, feeling the heat of his body like a magnet.
Still no answer, but I don’t need one—I can feel him twitch beneath me, a telltale sign of his desire. Maybe he can hold himself back from kissing me, but he’s a man, and no matter how much he tries to exert control, he can’t exert it over his cock.
We lock eyes as I let my hand fall between us, grabbing his length through his pants and running my fingers along his piercings.
Oh, I definitely have his whole attention now.
But he still doesn’t show it, just keeps his eyes trained on me as I run my hand over him a couple of times.
I was expecting that—the mask of practiced control not to yield. Though, I’m not trying to prove a point. I just want to feel him. Because in reality, the thought that he is so distant drives me more mad than I’d like to admit to myself.
I free him from his shorts, pushing them as low as I can manage since he doesn’t bother to help. My heart races as I raise my hips and lower myself onto him. No promises. No rush. Just the sound of our irregular breaths and some fucking stupid laxative ad playing in the background to set the mood.
God, I hate that damn TV.
For once tonight, Ares seems to agree, breaking his practiced indifference and grabbing the remote to turn it off.
