But here, inside Ares’ room. Surrounded by his heat, his touch, and that cum-dripping cock, I’m just hungry. Hungry to live.
I shiver, heat pooling through me though I struggle to wrangle my inner demons. Ones he’s stirring awake with the devilish stroke of his thumb over my pulse point.
“Ares don’t.” I don’t know if I am pleading more for him or myself at this point. He takes this too far, farther than he did in the shower and I won’t be able to stop myself.
Ares withdraws his hand from my neck to drag the pads of his fingers down the length of my chest. The brush of heat from his touch might as well be pokers laced with the fires of possession. The invisible scars he leaves behind sink deep. The pools of gray in his eyes arresting.
I whimper in embarrassment; the shame of my forbidden pleasure at the hand of the enemy splashes across my cheeks, leaving them flaming red.
Ares searches for the buttons on the shirt I borrowed and when he finds them, the grin on his face is beyond wicked.
Right when I think he’ll take his time undoing each and every one of them, I quickly discover the man positioned over me is nowhere near as patient as I once thought.
One fierce pull and the tiny white buttons ping off walls and lampshades. He does the same to my camisole. The small V of the neck gives him the right amount of leverage over the material and it parts like butter being cut with a branding iron.
My bra, a scarp of matching lace and silk doesn’t stand a chance. Those beady little tips puckered high on my breasts begging for his touch know what they want.
And they get it.
“Don’t what?” His voice is a harsh pull on my libido. “You tempt me beyond reason and for no other reason than you make my dick hard enough to pound steel beams, I’m going to fuck you.”
Warm lips encompass one nipple, his tongue a swirling force I can’t resist. He moves to the next his strong fingers squeezing the ample flesh until I feel breathless. His teasing is both hot as a flash of lightning and equally slow-burning. Waves of pleasure and pain roll through me.
I smack at him, push him away. I’m aware of him gripping my wrists with his larger one and holding them over my head. But I’m powerless to stop him.
But what infuriates me most is the hot liquid dripping to wet my panties.
He moves his massive body between my legs and drags the teeth of my zipper down in a hiss of a promise; this isn’t going to stop until he says. With little effort, he frees me of my jeans. He eyes the black panties and in one swift breath, those are on the floor with my pants.
He pulls his eyes to mine, his hand sliding to my thighs. Between us his heavy, veined cock bounces with angry need. The bulbous head drips with pre-cum. He fists the length and works his shaft. “Watch me,” he rumbles. What he doesn’t realize is he doesn’t have to demand a thing. I can’t take my eyes away from him anyway.
Cords of muscle bulge and ripple as he works his cock between my legs. He’s not even touching me there and I feel the walls of my pussy contract protesting that fact.
Hot juices spill down the crease of my folds, wetting the sheets beneath me. There’s no way I can hide the reaction my body has to him.
Unable to stop myself, I reach for him, stroke a thumb over the bead of pre-cum dripping from the slit of his cock, and bring it to my throbbing clit. I rub his juices over the tender nub. Once. Twice. My hips begin to rock but he’s not having that.
Fire shoots through those gray eyes and the depths of them turn so hot we stand the risk of catching fire.
The crown of his cock pushes my hand away and he begins to swirl the fat head around my clit. This is wrong. I should be fighting him. Beating him off me. But none of that is happening.
He increases the pressure and I’m right back to rocking. He growls something I don’t understand, reaches for the nightstand, and rips open a box. In a breath he’s back over me sheathing his cock with a condom.
“Hurry,” I plead. I trail my fingers over my quivering stomach and swirl the pad of my finger over my throbbing clit. I buck into my hand but my touch is not the same as his.
“Will I hurt you?”
I know what he’s asking and I shake my head. “No. But make me forget those bad memories, Ares. Just for tonight?”
Hair slips over his forehead and I brush it away.
“I’ll make you only remember me.”
I’m so slick, wet, and needy that when he poises the tip of his shaft at my entrance and thrusts home, he slips through my juices to the hilt in one swift glide. Ares groans and proves he has no intentions of letting my body grow accustomed to his thickness.
Fire flashes through me. I claw at him like a mad, wild animal. He falls over me, pulls out, and sinks balls deep into my core so hard, so fast, I lose control. Not that I suffered from any illusion I had any to begin with.
My orgasm is instant. White heat and soul-gripping spasms ripple through me leaving parts of me broken. I knew giving in to him would be far from soft and tender. But the way the power crackles and shifts in the room is palpable.