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My arms caged her in before she could think about escaping. I let the tip of my nose brush against her skin after wiping her long hair out of the way. The smell of chlorine was unmistakable, but her neck still faintly hinted at the patchouli perfume she wore.
“Why are you always running?”
“It has never helped me from a tight situation, has it?” her voice shakily whispered.
I stilled my movement. I sensed she wasn’t only referring to me. “What does that mean?”
She didn’t say anything for a long time. The only sound came from the crickets and the water softly lapping over the edge of the pool. My mouth found the curve of her nape. While placing small kisses on her skin, she relaxed some, encouraging me to feel her.
My hand roamed over her right arm, and testing her, I dipped down a little, flattening my tongue right above the clasp of her bra and then up and over her spine. Feeling goosebumps rise underneath my palm, it was victoriously satisfying. Even if this all should be an act on my side, my cock didn’t get the memo.
It stiffened, forgetting about the pain in my balls earlier this evening.
Dita was so much better, though. A prime piece.
Her curves went on for miles. And somewhere, in the back of my mind where there was still blood running, I thanked the Lord for molding her into the woman she’d become.
“Ares.”
Mm, yes.
I didn’t understand why, but my name on her lips always alerted my cock. Contract or not, it stirred against the crack of her ass, wanting to feel her from the inside.
“Yeah, D?”
“Why do you hate me?”
Too loaded of a question, I didn’t want to beat around the bush or say I didn’t. I wasn’t sure what my feelings towards her were, but it wasn’t a hundred percent benevolent or malicious either way.
I turned her around and drew her face to mine, whispering in hot breaths a truth I had a hard time wrapping my head around myself, “I just need some time getting used to you."
There was a whole lot of getting used to Dita Dominguez. I couldn't get over the way she listened to my instructions, keeping her slender fingers determinedly on the tongs while she fed my boys with a shaking hand.
She'd pampered them like a champ.
And then she left me with a pounding heart and an aching I couldn't understand. Even if I fragmentized those emotions into a thousand pieces and puzzled them back together, they still would leave me frazzled.
“Are you using my body to get there?”
“Maybe.” Ultimately, it was my tool to deepen the dent in my relationship with my father. “It’s hell of a nice way to get to know you.”
Dita heavily exhaled. “Of course, it is, Ares.”
She started pulling back. My name on her lips was no longer a plea. I swear I could growl with frustration, and not just because my plan was falling apart. Again.
I needed her to trust me. Which she did, to a certain extent. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have set foot in my bedroom again after the jizz-affair. But she did, and it was her request. It meant something.
“Dita. Wrap your legs around my waist.”
“I’m not going to put out.”
“Take a deep breath.”
“What? Ares, Jesus!”
“Now, Dita.”
Her eyes widened while my smirk intensified.
