He exhales and lowers his head, his tongue darting out to taste my blood. It’s fucked up, and strangely erotic that he wants to consume every part of me. My blood, sweat, and tears. They all belong to him, and he revels in it.
“You son of a bitch, you shot me,” Hermes murmurs again, and Ares glances at his brother.
“Go upstairs and wait for me, Pet. I need to take care of my idiot brother.”
“Yes, Sir.” I lean into the kiss he places on my forehead and carefully step over Hermes.
“You’ll pay for this, bitch.” He hisses through clenched teeth. Ares boots him in the stomach, and he curls into himself, writhing in agony.
“Go on, Pet. I have this under contr—”
Hermes punches him in the nuts, and Ares goes down in a heap. I scream, run toward my Master, but he’s already straddling his twin and stabbing his finger into the bullet wound as Hermes roars. I stop in my tracks, torn between wanting to protect what’s mine and wanting to roll on the floor with laughter. What is wrong with these men that this is how they fight, with junk punches and bullet holes?
“You fucked it up. We’ll never get her back!”
“We will get her back. Killing Pet is not going to change that. I meant what I said, Brother. This . . .” He digs his finger farther into his brother’s wound. “This is a fucking warning. You hurt her again, and I will not hesitate to end your life. Are we clear?”
My skin breaks out in goose bumps. With fury in his gaze, and the coldness in his voice, I’m wet. How wrong that I should find his ruthlessness so arousing, but then, there’s no love lost between Hermes and me. He’d sooner see me dead than tied to his twin, so maybe it’s right that I should be aroused by Ares’ fury and his eagerness to protect me. Isn’t that what I wanted from him all along? His adoration, his pain, and his protection? Isn’t that all any submissive wants?
Ares stands and holds out a hand to his brother, who begrudgingly accepts—if the sneer on his face is anything to go by.
“I thought I told you to wait for me upstairs, Pet. Do I need to give you another spanking?”
“No, Sir. I’m sorry.”
“I need to tend to Hermes’ wound, and I need you to do as you’re told. I’ll see to your wounds in a few minutes. Assuming my brother doesn’t bleed out all over our kitchen.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Don’t make me come beat your ass. I’m too fucking tired tonight.”
“I’ll be waiting, Sir.”
His lips tip up in a smile that forces all of the air from my lungs. How unfair that a predator like him should be so goddamn appealing. It’s no wonder I fell hard for my captor. He might be a god, and I his humble servant, but inside lies the tortured and bruised heart of a man who’s as needy as I am. He just hides it better.
With a reverent smile, I turn and head up the stairs. It takes a little while to remember which of the seven rooms belongs to Ares, but when I do, I remove my robe and hang it in the closet, and then I kneel on the rug in the middle of the room, spread my legs, place my palms on my knees, and wait. Just like he told me to.