Cayde
By the time I get out of the shower, the insistent, angry throbbing in my body has lessened, leaving me slightly more capable of thinking clearly.
But I’m still horny as hell.
Even my orgasm didn’t lessen my desire for her. She’s almost witch-like in her ability to keep me wanting, chasing her even though Dean’s already taken what I wanted most. A quick jerk-off session in the shower, painting her skin with my cum, isn’t enough anymore. I’ve done that so many times by now. It’s lost its edge, and to make things worse, she seemed like she wanted it. Like she was taunting me into coming on her, trying to force my desire past the point where I could resist.
And now I just want more.
Fuck.
My plan to ignore her and focus on a future as a man in service to the Blackmoors instead of an heir clearly isn’t going to work. It’s almost as if she knew what I was trying to achieve and purposely sabotaged me.
It’s as if she’s learning how to play the same game we all played with her.
It’s hard to believe that my little Saint, the scared, reactive girl who got dragged into all of this, is crafty enough to have learned how to turn the tables around on us. Us. The Blackmoor heirs. Her masters.
I grit my teeth, yanking on a pair of black sweatpants and a white t-shirt over my head, feeling that familiar, simmering anger return. It’s almost comforting at this point. She needs to be reminded of her place here. She needs to remember who’s in charge.
She can’t just come barging into my shower and get away with it. If Dean won’t keep his pet in line, then maybe he doesn’t deserve her. And if he can’t—well then, perhaps he shouldn’t have her at all.
I stride down the hall towards Athena’s room, still seething, intending to grab her and haul her downstairs for some kind of punishment. I’m not sure what yet, but I’ll think of it along the way—or maybe Dean should be the one to choose.
Yes, that sounds about right. He is her master, after all.
When I make it down to Athena’s room, I see that her door is halfway open, which makes me laugh to myself. She’s clearly lost her mind if she doesn’t even shut her door against us anymore. Who does she think she is, I seethe, pushing the door the rest of the way open, just as I hear a small moan, and—
I stop dead in my tracks, mouth gaping open in shock at what I see on the bed.
Athena is lying there, bare-ass naked on top of her duvet, her hand pressed between her legs as her fingers rub furiously over her clit, one hand toying with her nipple as she moans softly again, her pretty, full lips parted as she gasps with pleasure.
It’s enough to make even my recently drained cock leap back to full mast.
I groan, adjusting my now aching dick in my sweatpants, as Athena gasps again, her hips arching off of the bed as she rubs her clit faster. I’m reminded of the more immediate issue—first, that I came here to snatch her up for a punishment, and second, that she’s not fucking allowed to get herself off.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snarl, aware that this is the second time I’m asking her that question in less than an hour, and she freezes, her hand still pressed between her thighs.
Is that a fucking smile I see on her lips? Sure enough, I’m almost certain that I see a tiny twitch at the corners of her mouth as if she did this on purpose. And thinking about it now, I can see the signs that point to that—the door left open, her naked atop the bed, playing with herself, just waiting for one of us to come along and catch her in her rebellion.
“What?” she asks almost innocently, her eyes wide and slightly glazed over with desire still.
“The contract says that you’re not allowed to do that,” I tell her sharply. “I know you read it, Athena, don’t play dumb with me.”
She laughs at that. She actually fucking laughs.
“There’s no contract anymore,” she says, lazily dragging one finger in circles around her clit. “Dean won, remember? And if he won, then there’s no contract, no game. And he hasn’t personally told me that I can’t masturbate, so—” she shrugs. “I’m horny. And I want to get off?”
I stare at her, disbelieving. “What the fuck has gotten into you?” I demand. I’d thought losing her virginity, especially to Dean or me, would break her. Make her meeker, more docile, once one of us had managed to get our cock into her. Once we’d managed to take away the last thing that had belonged to her.
But now I see the flaw in the game. We didn’t take it. She got to pick who to give it away to, and that’s given her an overinflated sense of her own power in this house.
“Not you,” she says, and now she’s not even trying to hide her grin. She slides her fingers down the sides of her pussy, spreading her folds open. “But you’d like to, wouldn’t you, Cayde? You’d like to be inside of me right now. I can see how hard you are, even though you just came all over me fifteen minutes ago. Should I tell Dean that? Should I tell him how you jerked off all over his little pet?”
Her hand goes still, and she laughs again. “If you want to enforce that old contract, Cayde, then that must mean you’re not accepting Dean’s win. It must mean you want to keep playing the game.”
I’m so angry that all I see is red. “Get your fucking hands off of yourself, little pet,” I snarl. “You’re not allowed pleasure that we don’t choose to give you.”
To my surprise, she obeys. But she’s still fucking smiling. “That must mean that the game is still going on then,” she says, shrugging. “If you think you can order me around, then I must not belong to Dean.”