For a moment, I want to scramble out of bed and hide, like a small child, because I’m terrified that when I see this shape’s face, it’ll be Natalie the way she was the last time I saw her, like every other time I’ve seen her face in my dreams lately.
But when the faint light from the window and my eyes adjusting gives me a glimpse of who it is, I realize it’s not Natalie at all.
It’s Athena.
They look so similar, it would be an easy mistake to make, especially in the darkness. But as she starts to crawl into the bed, I know it’s Athena, and I feel a wave of guilt—both for mistaking who she was at all and because part of me is disappointed.
It’s the same guilt I’ve felt all along because I don’t know how much of me wants Athena for herself and how much of me wants her because she reminds me of the girl I used to love.
“No,” I manage to croak out. “What are you doing? What the hell are you doing here, Athena?”
Something wounded flashes across her face as if I’ve hurt her feelings. “You were screaming,” she says softly. “I could hear you from down the hall. I came to see what was wrong—it scared me. You must have been having a nightmare.”
“Or you dreamed it,” I snap. I feel a flush of embarrassment that Dean or Cayde might have heard, that I might have woken anyone else up because of my nightmares about Natalie. “Go back to bed, Athena.”
She slides onto the bed anyway, though, and I put a hand out before she can get close to me. “Don’t you know how to listen? I said to fuck off. I don’t need you here.” The words come out crueler than I meant for them to, but I’m still barely awake, my skin still prickling from the dream, the ache heavy in my chest. And now Athena is here, and that awakens all kinds of things, feelings and desires, and emotions that I’m in no position to deal with right now. I don’t know if I could stop myself if—
Her hand comes towards me out of the darkness, touching mine, her fingers sliding along mine, up my arm, and a shudder of desire, dark and poisonous, slides through me and goes straight to my cock. “Are you sure?” she whispers. “I can stay, Jaxon, if you don’t want to be alone. I won’t tell anyone, but if you need someone—”
I turn towards her so swiftly even I almost don’t realize what I’m doing, grabbing her shoulders and pinning her to the bed with my body stretched over hers, my chest heaving as I look down at her in the darkness. “Who asked you to come in here, Athena? Who asked you to give a shit?” My voice is dripping with anger, with hate, and I don’t know who I’m angry at—myself or Cayde or Dean or her or Natalie, or maybe our fathers, as fucking cliché as that is. But I’m fucking furious at someone, or maybe at everyone. Suddenly I can feel the tension rippling through my muscles the way it does before a fight. My cock is rock-hard and throbbing in my boxers, pushing at the fly in an attempt to escape as I hold Athena down below me. She’s not fragile; I know that from our sessions in the gym. She’s anything but. At this moment, though, her wrists held in my fingers, her body trapped beneath my weight, shefeelsfragile. She feels soft and yielding, and it’s been so fucking long since I’ve been inside anyone, but I want her more than I’ve wanted anything in years.
“I don’tneedanyone, Athena,” I hiss. “I never do. I’m fine on my own.” I feel her shiver at the snarl in my voice. I surge forward suddenly, letting her feel how hard I am, the hot ridge of my cock pressing against her long t-shirt, the thin panties she’s probably wearing beneath it. I can feel myself throbbing just at the thought of it, and suddenly I want her so fucking much, so much I can hardly breathe.
She tenses as I grind against her, and I can feel the ripple of desire pass through her body.
“I think you came here because here becauseyouneed something,” I taunt her darkly. “I think you came in here hoping to get something from me.” My hand slides up her thigh, pushing up her t-shirt, and I feel the soft cotton of her panties against the smooth flesh of her hip. “What do you want, Athena?”
“I just wanted to see if you were okay,” she insists. “You sounded—you sounded like something was hurting you.”
Something is. Every day. Every minute. I’m being fucking torn apart, and it’s only gotten worse since you’ve been here.
“You’re lying.” I grip her panties in my fingers, curling them around the side. “If I touch you, are you gonna be wet for me?”
Athena shakes her head. “That’s not why I’m here—”
I make a fist, my hand gripping the fragile fabric, and then I jerk my hand down so sharply it rips. Athena squeals as I tear them off of her, dragging the material down her thighs as I let go of them and reach up between her thighs.
And just as I suspected, when my fingertips trail between her soft, swollen folds, she’s fucking dripping.
“Lying little pet,” I sneer down at her, my fingers thrusting into her hard. “This is what you wanted. You wanted me to…what? Finger you? Eat you out? Fuck you?”
“I’m not lying,” Athena insists, but as I slide my fingers in and out of her, I can feel her squirming. Her hips arching up to meet the rhythm of my hand, and I feel her arousal gushing out over my fingers, her pussy clenching with each thrust.
She feels so fucking good, hot and tight even around my fingers, and I can only imagine what she’d feel like if I finally got my cock inside of her. She’s so soft, so needy, and the heat of her pussy clamped around my fingers makes me hard as hell and overwhelmed with desire even as her lying little mouth makes me even angrier.
“So if I lick this pussy you won’t come for me?” I glare down at her. “You won’t like it? You fucking liked it every other time I ate you out. Little slut.” I thrust my fingers into her again, and Athena makes a high-pitched, mewling noise, biting her lower lip.
“Jaxon, please—I just—”
“You what? You really thought Ineededyou?” I jerk my fingers out of her, lifting them to my lips, licking her off of them. She tastes so fucking sweet, so good that my cock hurts from how hard I am, and I want to fuck her so badly.
But I can’t. I just fucking can’t.
I can do something else, though.
I reach down, pushing her t-shirt up over her hips, and maybe she was telling the truth about why she came here, but she doesn’t stop me. She doesn’t stop me when I push her thighs apart or when I slide up between them, parting her with my fingers. She’s soft and swollen, and I hear her hiss when I press my fingers against her as if she’s bruised.
A flash of jealous anger washes over me. “What, did Cayde and Dean already fuck you tonight? Already make you come? Is your pussy bruised because they both fucked you so hard it hurt?”