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He swished his hips side-to-side, sliding himself against her and slipping in between her lips. Rubbing against her enough that was gasped at the sensation shooting through her body and down her legs, her toes curling around the blankets beneath them.
Grunting into her mouth, Pelops took her sharp inhale as an invitation and roughly pushed himself inside her.
Pain shot through her side and lips as he held harder against him, fingers digger deeper into her sides and lips crashing hard against teeth. The pain was so great she barely felt as he thrust into her harder, the motion jerky and harsh.
Every thrust brought a small whimper to her lips, swallowed by his fierce, hungry mouth. There was no pleasure, no love, none of the desire she had expected to feel.
It was anguish and pain and animal need.
Then it was over, as quickly as it started.
The sharp pain lacing through her body would last hours still, the sharpness dulling to a throb by morning.
Pelops stilled, hands slackening enough for her move off him completely, wrapping the useless linen sheet around her shoulders and facing away. He flopped an arm over her and shoved the other under neck, hugging her tightly to him.
She didn’t resist. Knew now that resisting only made things more painful.
“That was perfect,” he said, his breath hot and sticky against her ear.
“Was it?” She asked, harsher than she intended.
“Of course it was. Did you not think so?”
“No.” He voice was scratchy and hard as she blinked back tears. “You dug your fingers into me and kissed me so hard that my lips ache,” she said sharply, anger dissolving her tears before they could fall down her cheeks. If she wasn’t so exhausted and ashamed she would turn around and punch him in the face. “It didn’t feel like love.”
He sat up on his elbow, pulling her shoulder toward him so she was laying on her back. She looked straight up at the stars, ignoring him though she could see his grimace from the corner of her eye. “It isn’t supposed to feel like love,” he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s about desire and need and passion. I don’t think love has any place in it, Persephone.”
She blanched. Unable to say anything as fresh tears welled in her eyes, and she realized he wasn’t acting this way because he loved her and wanted to marry her. He desired her, her body, but not her as a whole.
As he dragged a finger down her cheek and kissed her gently, she had to fight the urge to cringe away from him. As he ran that burning finger down her side, covered by the sheet, she clenched her teeth and bit her tongue. “I am my father’s sole heir. I will one day take the throne and rule his—my people. It isn’t an easy job, ruling people, nor is it easy being molded into the perfect heir. I need release! The stress of it all is,” he sighed heavily, “a lot harder than I let on.” He tucked a few stray strands behind her ear, gauging her reaction, but she kept her face blank. “You understand.” It was not a question.
“Dione may still bore your father another son.”
Pelops smiled, but his eyes remained hard and locked. “My mother and father are not having more children. Not after the goddess maddened my brother, forcing him to join Hades.” He ran his fingers along her collarbone. “You understand,” he repeated, kissing her softly on the shoulder.
She nodded once, ready for this conversation to end. Turning over, she silently seethed beneath her calm exterior. She let him hold her, though his touch burned like hot coals against her skin. His arms were iron bars wrapped around her, anchoring her to the sand. The breath that tickled her neck was hot and sent an unpleasant shiver through her. Pelops hugged her closer, mistaking the shiver as her being cold, rather than being disgusted by him.
Once his breathing steadied and his snoring filled her ear, she cried silently. Tears pooling at her temple, where her head met the ground.
She grieved the love she had expected, letting go of her expectations with every tear. Swallowing her sobs so he wouldn’t wake, she buried them deep within herself, nestled next to her crushed hopes and hopeless dreams.
Pelops may have loved her, thought he loved her, but he didn’t want her by his side. Didn’t want to marry her and live out their lives together as one, unbreakable bonded pair.
If he thought she would be a poor partner in life, a bad fit for the queen he was going to need, he was probably right. She had no right to question his decision, he knew better than she did what it took to rule, to be a great and memorable ruler.
He did need her though. Needed her for release, and to feel good, to help melt the stresses of his royal life away with the wind.
She needed him, too. His love and affection made her heart want to burst out of her chest, and without him she would be a dull, loveless maiden. Without Pelops, she could never be happy.
They needed each other. So, she would become the queen he needed, show him that she could be exactly the queen necessary to help him rule his people, and reach release.
She could be more than merely a lover, a kept courtesan; she could be the perfect wife and queen and also pleasure him.
It would be easy.
19
VULNERABILITY IS FOR THE WEAK
