“They were worried about you, Athena,” Jaxon says softly. “Wewere all worried about you.”
I glare at him, my embarrassment receding in the face of the reminder of what he very recently did to me. “I just want you to go, Jaxon. We’re done. I don’t want to see you. I don’t want to do any of this—whatever it is with you. I know I should have told you about Natalie before anything happened between us. I know that was wrong. But so was your reaction and I just—” I shiver, looking away from him. “I can’t take any more of this.”
When I glance back, I can see a series of emotions crossing Jaxon’s face—and none of them are the anger that I’d somehow expected. There’s sorrow, grief, fear, but none of the lashing, sharp fury that I’d experienced that awful evening when he’d fucked me up against the porch.
Very slowly, he stands up, and I can see the pain in his dark eyes as he looks at me. “If you really want me to go, Athena,” Jaxon says softly, “I’ll go. I know I’ve fucked up. I’ve fucked up alot. I promised you I wouldn’t ever hurt you for my pleasure, and I’ve done it more than once. I’ve hurt you and gotten off on it, and I’ve hurt you as a release for my anger, and I know how fucking wrong that is. I know if Natalie had any idea what I’ve become, she’d be ashamed of me. And that fucking hurts.”
He pauses, and I can tell that he’s waiting for me to yell at him, to tell him to just get out, and the temptation is there. To not listen to this apology, because out of the three of them, watching Jaxon try to tell me he’s sorry is the hardest. I’ve wanted him on some level since the day I locked eyes with him, and while Dean and Cayde and I have formed our own relationships, Jaxon’s betrayals have hurt the most. They’ve hit me the hardest, because as much as he’d warned me not to rely on him, I’d trusted him the most.
But I don’t tell him to leave. Part of me, a part that I hate as much as I hate him right now, doesn’t want him to.
Of all my relationships in this house, the one with Jaxon is the most complex. Looking at him right now, with his bruised jaw and purpling lip, I both want to add another bruise to his collection and kiss them all away. And I don’t fucking know what to do with those emotions.
I don’t know what to do with any of this.
Especially not when Jaxon walks towards the bed in two quick, short strides, and sinks down onto his knees in front of it.
“I’m so fucking sorry, Athena,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse and gravelly. “What I did to you was unforgivable. It wasn’t me, but itwas, and after all you’ve been through, you have every right to hate me for it. I don’t have words for how badly I fucked up. I’ll walk right out of this room and stay away from you forever if it’s what you want, I’ll never touch you again. But I want you to know that will kill me a little inside, every fucking day. Because I wanted you the moment you came down those stairs, and I still do, even if I’ve been a piece of shit half the time.”
I’ve never seen him like this. His jaw is clenched, the muscle in the side of it jumping, and his face is awash with pain.
“I wanted to keep you safe, Athena. I’ve been so terrified this entire time of the same thing happening to you that happened to Natalie, and it very nearly did. If I could have taken you away from all of this, away from this whole damn town, I would have—but that’s what killed her, and I thought if I just fucking stayed away from you—but I can’t. I fucking can’t. I still can’t, and I don’t care if you were her half-sister, I don’t care what that means. I just know that if you tell me you never want to see me again, it’s going to crush something inside of me, and you have every right to do that. But you should know.”
I have a sudden, wild urge to do exactly that. He hurt me, and neither of us can ever change that. I could hurt him right now, I could tell him to get the fuck out, to never speak to me again. I could take every feeling we’ve ever had for each other and crush it in my fist, and the power of that feeling is almost overwhelming.
Slowly, I slide off of the bed, standing on legs that feel weak still, my knees wobbly. But I manage to hold myself upright, looking down at him, and I once again don’t know if I want to hit him or kiss him.
These boys were supposed to crush me, to make me subservient, their pet and slave.
But instead, they’ve made something else. And in this moment, with Jaxon, I can feel it unfurling inside of me, blooming wide and wild, and I feel a heady sort of euphoria rush through me at the power I hold over him in this moment.
He stares at me as I sink down to my knees in front of him, and I feel almost as if I’m in a dream as I grab his face with both hands, my fingers digging into his cheeks as I drag his mouth to mine. It feels like my blood is burning in my veins, desire and anger all wrapped up together, and I take every emotion I’ve felt in the past months, every bit of shame and fear and anger and hurt and confused desire, and I shove it into that kiss, into the way I bite down on his lower lip, my tongue sliding over the split where someone struck him until I taste blood and Jaxon groans aloud.
He doesn’t move, as if he’s helpless under my hands, when I know he’s anything but. He lets me kiss him, lets me bite down on the place on his mouth where he’s hurt until he cries out, but he doesn’t stop me. It’s as if he’s willing to let me take it all out on him, to pour my pain and anguish into his body, and I feel something primal welling up inside of my body as I slide my hands back, tangling them in his dark hair as I crawl atop him, my thighs straddling his where he’s kneeling on the floor.
“Athena—” he chokes out against my lips, but I bite down again hard, and he moans.
I’ve never done this before. Every single one of the guys has taken their emotions out on me physically at some point, used me as an outlet, and it feels so fucking good to give it back. It feels like being in the boxing ring with Jaxon, except even better, and I grind my hips down onto him, reveling in the sound of his helpless moan as I devour his mouth, feeling his cock stiff and rigid between my thighs.
I’m not going to be the one getting fucked anymore. The thought burns in my head as I fist my hand in Jaxon’s hair, pushing him back onto the floor with my other hand, and I run my tongue over his lower lip, tasting the blood welling there as I grind down into his lap.
He’s motionless, panting beneath me as I feel his cock throb, and I reach down, yanking at his zipper as I shove my hand into his jeans. I wrap my hand around his length, feeling the heat of it burn into my palm, and Jaxon moans again, writhing beneath me as I stroke him roughly, enjoying the feeling of being the one in charge, the one with the power.
“You want me?” I whisper against his mouth, squeezing my hand around his cockhead. He’s already dripping pre-cum, the tip slick against my palm, and he nods wordlessly against my mouth.
“Fuck, Athena, please—” he murmurs, and I feel his hand come up to touch my waist, slide up under my tank top, but I slap it away.
“I’m the one fucking you this time,” I growl, and then I yank my panties aside, shoving myself down onto his rigid, throbbing length in one long, hot slide of flesh on flesh that leaves me breathless with the sudden pleasure of it.
Maybe this is why they do it,I think to myself as I start to ride him, my hips rocking atop him as I slide up and down, hard and fast, and it feels so fucking cathartic. I let go of his hair, shoving his t-shirt up and pressing my palms against his chest until my nails are digging into the skin there, and Jaxon groans, his head tipping back as he lets me fuck him.Maybe this is how they feel when they’re using me. Like they can pour every terrible thing that’s ever happened into me and I’ll heal it somehow.
I feel the orgasm rising up, sharp and sudden, and my thighs tighten around his hips as I grind down onto him harder. I can feel his piercing rubbing against that spot deep inside of me, his thick cock filling me entirely, and I throw my head back, my nails clawing into his chest as the pleasure suddenly hits.
“Fuck!” I scream aloud as I start to shake, my thighs tensing as wave after wave of it rolls through me, and I can hear Jaxon groaning, murmuring my name as his hands come up to my hips, and this time I don’t slap them away. I let him touch me, let his rough fingertips slide over my skin, under the edge of my panties, let him start to thrust upwards as he nears his own climax.
“Tell me I can come, Athena,” Jaxon moans, his eyes opening so that he can look into mine. “I won’t come unless you want me to. You can just fuck me if you want, butfuck, I wanna come so bad—”
Oh god.I feel that nearly primal, heady sense of power again, and I press my hands down into his chest, seeing the scratch marks where I clawed him, the reddened flesh where my nails dragged through his skin. “Not yet,” I tell him, my voice taut with the pleasure still rippling through me, and I feel him shudder, the effort it takes for him to hold back.