My hips move, thrusting against her ass, one hand sliding down between her thighs, stroking and flicking her clit with my finger as I feel her tighten and clench against my dick.
Her insides spasm all around me as she grits her teeth, muttering my name under her breath.
She appears to keep her sounds down. At least that is how it seems. I can see that she doesn’t want me to know just how much she’s loving it.
I thrust into her harder. Aggressive. Cold. Or so I try.
But my hands caress her flesh, my heat merges with hers. Any ice around my heart melts as Daphne orgasms from the ass fucking that I had originally intended to cause her pain.
I give this woman pleasure.
She gives me even more.
“I’m never letting you go,” I say, my breath coming out with a heavy pant as I spill myself into her.
No.
No.
This is not the plan.
I pull out of her as quickly as I entered and resist the urge to kiss her, to hold her, to cuddle her into my arms. “Get on your hands and knees and crawl back to your cage to sleep,” I order.
I am an asshole.
A fucking prick.
Yes.
Yes.
Thatis the plan.
I have to remember that I’m not truly Apollo Godwin. I’m the villain. The bad guy. I’m the bad twin. The killer twin. The dark side of the duo.
And Daphne is not my wife.
ChapterTwenty-Five
Daphne
I wake up in the middle of the night, with the sharp chill in the air and dread pumping through my veins. I don’t want to hear his heavy breathing as he sleeps or feel amiss for not being in that bed with him. I want to escape. Leave him and his family forever. And God help me… I want to fuck him. Fuck him hard over and over again.
Is it possible to want both at the same time?
A moment of peace as he sleeps. A moment of safety as his arm lays draped over the edge of the bed which is never how he used to sleep. He used to be a back sleeper. Clearly Olympus Manor has changed him.
It’s changed him so much.
The full moon casts a powerful beam of light into the room—bouncing off the metal of the bars of my cage—only illuminating my harsh reality. I am a captive in a family manor with my captor who is also my husband. I have only myself to hold on to, even though my strength is fading. A strength turning into a pool of thick dark weakness, threatening to strangle me in despair.
Fuck Apollo. Fuck him and the rest of the Godwins straight to hell. And yet, as he sleeps, I remember small glimpses of his humanity. There are many. He’s given me small peeks, as of late, into his soul that shows he isn’t all black inside. There’s something in his eyes I’ve never noticed before.
“Apollo?” I whisper, breaking the silence of the room. I look through the bars at his face as he sleeps. He looks so peaceful, gentle, and even kind. This is not the rough man who punished me repeatedly then took me without so much as an ask. This sleeping man is not a monster. Or is he? Maybe he’s just a beast in slumber. “Apollo,” I say again a little louder.
His eyes flutter open. “You should be asleep,” he says in a scratchy voice.
“Am I going to die?” My question is direct, blunt, but it can’t be held back any longer. I have to know the truth.