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Except it feels like I’m at her mercy when she starts speaking.

“Yes. Like that. Harder.” She grabs my arms, her nails once again setting to my skin. I’ll be wearing her marks for days, and the thought only spurs me on, making me rougher.

“You’re a fucking menace.” I find the touch she likes on her clit, the one that makes her flutter around my cock hard enough that I have to fight not to lose it. My orgasm is already threatening. She feels too fucking good. “Come around my cock like a good little princess.”

“Make me,” she gasps, pressing her throat harder against my palm. “Unless you’re just as bad at this as you are at everything else.” Another moan. “Maybe I should ask Patroclus for an assist.”

“You bitch.” I don’t stop, don’t slow down. I keep fucking her as she comes apart around me, her poisonous words fated to linger even after we’re done.

Helen cries out as she orgasms, her body shaking sweetly even as her pussy clamps around me. I don’t even try to hold out. I just keep thrusting into her until need overwhelms me, filling her up with me.

It’s only when I roll off her and drop onto my back that reality starts setting in. I open my eyes and stare at the ceiling. “Fuck.”

“Yes, we did that.” She sits up.

“Are you okay? I…” I make myself look at her, make myself search her expression for any sign that we went too far.

Helen picks up her pants and frowns at them. “I’m fine.” She glances at me, her face carefully blank. “You’re not about to go soft on me, are you?” When I don’t immediately reply, she sighs. “It was just sex, Achilles. You’ve had sex before, haven’t you?”

“Not like this.”

She hesitates. “Patroclus said you weren’t exclusive—”

“We aren’t.” But I’ve also never been with anyone like this, so rough and out of control. I am always very fucking aware of how easy it would be to hurt my partners on accident, and as a result, I’m always leashed. Except with Patroclus; our history means we know each other’s limits more thoroughly, and I still am careful not to cross his lines. Helen and I don’t have that history, that trust. We don’t even fucking like each other. I can’t say that to her, though. It feels cruel, even if it’s the truth. Instead, I focus on something small and mundane. “You can’t wear those pants.”

“Don’t worry. I fully intend to bill you for them.” She climbs slowly to her feet. There are faint rug burns on her knees, but fuck, she looks like a magnificent mess. It makes me want to…

I jerk upright. “We didn’t use condoms.”

“I know.” Helen sighs again. “I’m on birth control. I’ve been tested recently enough that I can confidently say you’re safe.”

Somehow, that doesn’t detract from the tightening in my chest. I can’t believe I lost control so thoroughly as to forget a condom. “The only person I have unprotected sex with is Patroclus, but we’re both tested regularly since we’re not exclusive.”

“Then there’s nothing else to say.” She turns for the door.

I’m on my feet before I decide to move. “Helen, wait.”

Another of those sighs. Gods, the woman sounds so exasperated with me that I want to toss her to the floor again. This time, when we’re finished, neither of us will have the breath left for sighing. Oblivious to the direction of my thoughts, she smooths back some of the hair that’s escaped her braid. “Look, there’s really nothing else to say. I lost control. You lost control. It ultimately doesn’t change anything for either of us, so let’s never speak of it again.”

She’s being remarkably coolheaded about this, and I don’t understand how the fuck she’s pulling if off when it’s everything I can do not to yank her to me and kiss her again. I snatch my shirt off the floor and stalk to her. Helen rolls her eyes at me. “My door is—” I pull the shirt over her head and wait for her to get her arms through it. She gives me a bored look. “Are you happy now?”

“No.” Somehow, this is even worse than her naked. Seeing her in my shirt… I already knew I was a territorial asshole, but I didn’t expect to have those urges rising up with this woman. “No, I’m not fucking happy.”

“Didn’t think so.” She turns and walks out of the room without another word.

I stare at the door for a long time. “Fuck. Fuck.” There’s no doubt about it. No matter how I try to spin this out—and I’m having a shitty time coming up with a reasonable explanation for why I fucked Helen Kasios on my floor like a godsdamned animal—there’s only one conclusion to be had.

I just screwed up spectacularly.

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