What the fuck is he talking about? “I—” A horrifyingly delicate whimper slips from my lips at the invasion of his cock. I’m wet enough that he doesn’t have to fight quite as hard as he did last night, but it’s still a tight fit.
He doesn’t give me a chance to catch my breath, though. Hephaestus palms one breast with his hand and the other winds around my thigh, hitching it higher in the process, to press lightly against my clit. I’m so oversensitized that any touch stronger than that would be too much, and damn him, he knows it.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” He fucks me slowly, as if he has all the time in the world. I’m not certain he doesn’t. He pinches my nipple lightly, earning another of those godsawful whimpers. He drags his mouth along my throat up to my ear. “You’re much more pleasant when someone is playing with your clit.”
“You son of a—”
Another nipple pinch steals my words. Hephaestus changes his angle a little and, oh fuck, this feels good. I’m melting for him, and even as I try to fight it, my body has taken over. He keeps up that light touch on my clit, fucking me right to the edge of a third orgasm.
How did I lose control so thoroughly?
I’m a shaking, whimpering thing, and all I can do is cling to him and take what he gives me. Later… Later, I’ll make him pay for this.
After he makes me come again.
His voice is rough with pleasure, lower than normal and gravelly. “Gonna be a requirement for every talk going forward. Spread those thighs and put you in an agreeable mood. If you’re very good, I’ll even give you this cock again.”
I need to push back against this. I have to. Because the picture he’s painting isn’t disagreeable. I can envision it all too clearly. Us trading barbs while he’s fingering me… While he’s going down and putting that vicious tongue to work. “Oh fuck.”
“That’s right, Wife. Come on your husband’s cock.”
I don’t want to. I desperately don’t want to give him this. But it’s too late to go back. I cry out as I come, clenching around his cock. He barely waits for my orgasm to ebb before he picks up his pace, fucking me roughly for several long minutes, and then coming with a curse that makes me shiver.
Then the motherfucker pulls out of me and slaps my ass.
I’m still trying to find words when he returns from my bathroom, drops down next to me with one heavy arm draped over my waist, and passes the fuck out. I blink in shock. The asshole is snoring.
My thoughts are too scattered after this hard pivot to fully comprehend what just happened. That was…good sex. Really good. It doesn’t mean anything, and it certainly won’t divert me from my goals, but it’s more than a little shocking. I don’t know why he’s staying, though. It doesn’t make sense. He hates me as much as I hate him, and while he might be wholly outclassed for his title, that doesn’t mean he’s a complete fool. There’s no way he’d sleep in my bed without good reason.
Surely the reason isn’t because he slept as little last night as I did?
A yawn catches me by surprise. I’m going on forty-eight hours without sleep. Not my longest stretch, not by a long shot, but the longest in years. Even when Adonis and I were on our off times, he was always there for me to crash in his bed, the familiar cadence of his breathing enough to send me under. That’s not an option anymore, and I have no one to blame but myself.
I yawn again. Hephaestus is heavy, his arm a solid weight pinning me to the mattress. I try to shift away, but he tightens his hold on me, tucking me against his larger body. I curse. “You’ve got to be joking me.” I poke his shoulder. “Hephaestus. Hephaestus, you can’t stay here.”
He doesn’t move. He doesn’t respond at all, other than letting out another quiet snore. I sigh. Some soldier he is. I could claw his eyes out or smother him right now; he might wake up to prevent me from killing him, but I could definitely maim. Surely he doesn’t think so little of me?
It’s definitely not that he trusts me.
I certainly don’t trust him.
I don’t mean to close my eyes. I have every intention of wrestling my way out of Hephaestus’s hold, showering the scent of sex off my body, and then brewing some coffee to keep the mental cobwebs at bay. He just… He smells really good. And my body is relaxed from the orgasms and the feel of him half holding me down. Like my very own cranky weighted blanket.
Dangerous thoughts.
I’m going to get up.
In just a moment…
“Eris?”
I jolt awake. There’s something wrong in the room, and it’s not just the man sleeping at my side. The light is all strange. It was dark just a moment ago, only the lights of the city playing through the windows of my bedroom. Now it’s bright.
I slept.
I slept.
“Eris.”
I belatedly register it’s not my husband talking to me. I look up and go still. Adonis. I wish I could say he looks great, but it would be a lie. His pants are creased and his shirt is buttoned haphazardly. He also hasn’t shaved recently, so a shadow of a beard darkens his jaw. “What are you doing here?”
“I…” He shakes his head sharply. “I was worried about you.”
Gods, it hurts to look at him. It hurts even more that both of us are very carefully not looking at my husband lying naked on the bed between us. There’s no way he’s still sleeping, but he hasn’t opened his eyes, and this moment feels too fraught to call him out on eavesdropping. I drag in a shaky breath. “I told you we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”
Adonis’s dark eyes take on a look I’ve never seen before. On anyone else, I would call it cruelty. “And yet you didn’t revoke my permission to your apartment or take your key back. Seems like you’re sending mixed signals.”
I didn’t do either of those things because deep down, I’m a sentimental fool. Not that I’ll ever admit it. I lift my chin. “An oversight on my part. I’ve only been married two days, after all.” I’m being an unforgivable bitch, but why is he here? Surely it hurts him to look at me as much as it hurts me to look at him?
Adonis shakes his head. “I didn’t come to fight with you, Eris. I came to make sure you’re okay.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There was an attack.” He looks away. “Someone tried to kill Athena.”
13
ADONIS
Eris was sleeping. With Hephaestus.
Even as she stares at me in shock, rattled by the attempt on Athena’s life, I can’t erase the image of her sharp features relaxed, her body tucked into his embrace. They look good together. I knew that, of course; photos from their wedding were splashed all over MuseWatch. Her in that gorgeous gown standing next to his broader form, them both the same height with her heels. His brooding attractiveness and her sharp beauty.
A matched pair.
Eris slaps Hephaestus’s shoulder. “Stop pretending to sleep. I know you’re awake.”
He rolls onto his back, seeming completely uncaring that he’s as naked as she is. Eris has always stopped my breath in my lungs. She says I’m the beautiful one, but she’s the kind of devastating that brings down cities and leaves a trail of broken hearts behind her.
Hephaestus is different. He draws me in a way that’s all too earthy, his massive body peppered with scars and the kind of muscle definition that makes me want to trace the lines with my tongue. Despite myself, my gaze snags on his hips, where his cock jerks as if in response to my attention.
“See something you like?” he drawls.
Eris flicks the sheets over his hips. “Stop showing off.” She snaps her fingers. “Adonis, focus. What happened to Athena?”
Right. The reason I came. I clear my throat. “It was a sniper. They shot at her from a building across the way. She received minor injuries from shattered glass, but is otherwise fine.”
“A sniper.” Eris frowns. “But that won’t trigger the clause, even if they were successful.”