Goddess of Pain

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Goddess of Pain Page 11

by Katie May


  “Get naked, dammit.” She grabs a pillow from Avery’s bed and tosses it to me.

  “Seriously?” I ask, but I’m already stripping as fast as I fucking can. My cock bobs painfully as it zeros in on the exquisite female before us like a missile latching on to its target.

  Before I can act on my desires, she hits me as hard as she can with one of Avery’s fluffy pillows. She giggles, the sound rushing straight to my cock, and I just barely hold in my groan.

  But I can’t resist pillow combat any more than I can physical combat.

  I begin to whack her with the pillow as she jumps onto the bed. From this angle, I can see her pussy lips glimmering with the evidence of her arousal. As she bounces up and down, her breasts jiggle, those perfect pink nipples becoming impossibly hard.

  “Fuck, come here, sweetheart,” I instruct, watching through hooded eyes as she complies without question, tossing her pillow to the side. I immediately release mine as well.

  Biting down on her lower lip, she sprawls out on the bed, using her elbows to hold her upper half up.

  A feather from one of the pillows rests beside her, and I don’t waste any time picking it up and sliding it through my fingers.

  Her eyes widen, the heat they’re emanating so potent and intense that it takes my breath away.

  “Stay still.” Hovering over her, my cock brushing against her thigh, I begin to circle the feather around her right nipple, watching in rapt fascination as it beads even further.

  “Desmond,” she moans, writhing on the bed, her inky black hair spilling around her like an obsidian halo.

  “Shush, woman.” Smiling softly, struck by the enormity of my feelings for this woman, I slide the feather across her nipple before lowering it down her taut stomach. When it reaches her belly button, I pause, circling the puckered hole and reveling in the way her eyes flash. “Do you like this?” I whisper, leaning closer as I trail the feather up to her neglected left breast. I repeat the process from before—first using it to draw soothing circles around the areola, and then brushing it across the tight nub.

  “Kiss me,” she whimpers, lifting her hands to tangle in my hair. I moan at the first taste of her lips, the sheer rightness of this moment. Here, with her, is where I belong. No one can ever take her from me again.

  My earlier hesitancy returns as I prod the seam of her lips with my tongue. For a moment, I’m afraid she won’t respond to my advances, but she quickly proves my worries to be fruitless. She opens for me, her tongue immediately finding and tangling with my own. Her bare curves brush against the hard planes of my chest as we roll on the bed, ending with my back against the mattress and her body hovering over mine.

  I take the opportunity to capture one of her dangling breasts in my mouth, pulling her nipple through my teeth.

  “Fuck, Des!”

  “I missed you,” I confess as I fondle her other gorgeous tit. “I didn’t even realize how much.”

  “I missed you too,” she divulges, turning away from me to grab something off the floor. “I miss my partner in crime. We haven’t pulled a prank on Tate in…well…years.”

  My smile widens at the thought of the little fucker. It was one of my favorite past times in the Realm of the Gods. Watching his pretty boy face turn red in anger never failed to make my day. And it usually ended in angry sex between Emily and Tate. Though sometimes, I was allowed to join in, pounding into her luscious ass while Tate took her pussy.

  “What are you thinking?” I ask as she gently grabs my hands, dragging them above my head. “Change his shampoo with honey? Find his home and destroy all his Earthly possessions? Oh! We can switch out his underwear drawer with thongs.” Something tightens around both of my wrists, and my eyes widen comically when I realize the little temptress has tied them to the headboard using my very own belt. “Someone’s feeling kinky,” I tease with a smile, attempting to appear unaffected, though it’s kind of hard to do when my cock is literally throbbing.

  “Shut up,” she growls as she kisses down the column of my throat. She reaches my chest and swirls her tongue around first one nipple and then the next. Instinctively, I buck my hips, each thrust putting my cock closer to her sweet pussy. Her hands slide down my arms and shoulders as her mouth reaches my belly button. Teasing me as I did her, she flicks her tongue out to lap at it.

  “Baby,” I groan as she continues her descent, her breasts brushing against my skin with every kiss, nip, and lick.

  She presses her lips to the inside of my right thigh and then my left, never touching me where I so desperately need her to.

  “Is this really necessary?” I continue, not at all above begging. “Fuck!”

  Maintaining eye contact, her tongue darts out to lick the head of my throbbing cock, no doubt tasting my pre-cum.

  “Why are you punishing me?” I hiss through gritted teeth. “I thought you forgave me?”

  “I do.” She begins to lick the vein on the side of my dick, her eyes never leaving my own. And damn if that isn’t the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. “But do you?”

  “Do I what?” I gasp, stomach muscles clenching as she takes the head of my cock in her mouth. Her other hand wraps around the base, using both her saliva and my pre-cum as lubrication.

  She pulls away from my member with an audible slurp.

  “Do you forgive yourself?” Her voice is almost tentative, like I’m a live wire about to swirl around in a violent circle, striking and sparking at anyone who comes too close.

  “I think I realized something,” I confess as her hand lazily—almost lackadaisically—caresses my balls.

  “That we’re both fucked up?” she assesses with a wry grin.

  “That I love you more than I ever thought possible.”

  It’s as if my words were some sort of trigger—one second, she’s relentlessly teasing me, and the next, she’s climbed on top of me, lining her pussy up with my cock. Slowly, she lowers herself down, her pussy already wet, as desperate for me as I am for her.

  We both groan at the initiation of contact, her pussy clenching around me like a fucking iron vise. Hurriedly, she unties my hands, as desperate for contact as I am.

  “Ride me, baby.” I grip her hips as she leisurely, cautiously, begins to bounce herself up and down on my dick. At first, her movements are stilted, almost as if she needs a moment to familiarize herself with my body, but as the seconds drag on, her need for me—and my need for her—overpowers any previous shyness or insecurities. She fucks me with ruthless abandon, her tits bouncing as I flex my hips.

  “Fuck, Des!” she cries as my hand sneaks up to cup her breast.

  “You feel so fucking good,” I gasp, my balls slapping against her ass with each thrust forward.

  And this is why I’ve never been with another girl. No one could even come close to replicating this moment, this feeling, this sensation. My body trembles as if electricity is dancing beneath my skin.

  “I’m going to come,” she warns as I twist her nipple harshly.

  “Come for me, baby. Milk my big cock.”

  My dirty words send her spiraling over the edge. She erupts with a scream, her nails digging into my chest until blood wells. My own hands are no doubt leaving bruises on her tan skin, but I can’t find it within me to give a damn. Emily often likes pain with her pleasure, and though I’ll never be Tate, I won’t hesitate to leave my mark on her.

  “Fuck,” I moan, coming inside of her as she collapses on top of me. My body feels sluggish and heavy, as if the entire force of Earth’s gravity is pushing down on me.

  She cuddles against my chest, her hot breath wafting against my neck.

  “Dessy?” she whispers, sleep evident in her husky voice.

  “Yes, my love?” I soothingly stroke up and down her back, my heart racing.

  “Don’t pull away from me again,” she murmurs, and I know she’s seconds from losing herself to the seductive lulls of sleep.

  I press a kiss to her sweaty forehead as her eyes flutter sh
ut.

  “Never,” I vow.

  Now that I have Emily back, I’m going to keep her. I’ll do whatever’s necessary to ensure that this goddess doesn’t leave my side.

  CHAPTER 16

  I wake up to hot coffee trickling onto my face.

  Wincing against the bite of pain, that somehow transitions into molten pleasure, I peel open one eye to see Sin hovering over my bed.

  “Coffee for my lady?” He extends his hand, which holds an overflowing, steaming mug of liquid gold. It sloshes over the edge, once more burning my face.

  “Dammit, Sin,” I grumble, accepting the cup. When hurt briefly flashes in his eyes, I sigh, leaning forward to give him a chaste kiss on the lips. “Thank you, my love.”

  In response, he merely grabs my bare breasts and gives them both a squeeze.

  “Why is the cumstain here?” Desmond’s sleepy voice sounds from the side of me where his naked body is sprawled halfway over mine. The blanket is pooled around his feet, allowing me an unrestricted view of his chiseled ass.

  “Cumstain?” Sin appears affronted. “That’s rude.” Before I can stop him, he leans forward and slaps Desmond’s bare ass, laughing hysterically when my lover yelps.

  “You fucker,” Des growls before turning towards me. The ice in his eyes immediately melts, replaced by a banked fire. His gaze indolently trails over my bare breasts—one of which Sin still fondles—and my disheveled sex hair.

  “Hi,” I whisper softly, a blush staining my cheeks. That blush heightens into arousal when Sin cups my other boob and begins to flick my nipples.

  “Hi,” Desmond replies with a cheeky grin. He lowers his gaze towards where Sin touches me, and the heat emitting from his eyes is impossible to deny. And honestly? My body is still tired from earlier, but it gives zero fucks. Actually, it wishes to give two fucks—Sin and Desmond both fucking me at the same time. Logic, am I right?

  “What’s on the agenda today?” I question breathlessly as I take a sip of my coffee. Arsin remembered exactly how I like it, and I feel thousands of butterflies fluttering in my chest, their wings battering in tandem to my rapidly beating heart.

  “Nothing much,” Sin drawls lazily as his power rushes to the surface, tiny sparks of heat pebbling my nipples. “Avery’s just committing some murder.”

  “Oh that’s nice… Wait what?!” I’m out of bed before he can answer, grabbing one of Avery’s faded t-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

  “You asswipe!” I hear Desmond snap from behind me. “Why did you have to say the m-word?”

  “Mongolia?” Sin asks seriously, but Desmond’s response is drowned out by my thudding pulse.

  I hurry down the hall and into the living room, just in time to see Avery finish rolling the dead body into a black tarp.

  He’s shirtless, only wearing a pair of low-slung jeans. His golden hair is wildly tousled and coated in blood. The red liquid speckles his face and bare chest as well.

  He smiles cheerfully when he catches sight of me.

  “Have a good reunion?” he teases, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

  “Seriously, Avery?” I raise a brow as he tosses the body over his shoulder. Poor Burke. Though…I probably shouldn’t feel too bad about the man who hired people to kill me for money. “Did you have to do…this?”

  He appears genuinely poleaxed.

  “What?”

  Helio, sitting silently on the couch, snorts, but I can’t help but be angry with him as well. He didn’t stop Avery from killing the man, despite the fact he easily could’ve.

  I blame myself.

  I should never have allowed Helio and Avery to punish the human in the first place.

  “I’ll be back,” Avery assures me, leaning forward to peck me on the lips. I’m immediately barraged by the distinct taste of copper mixed in with Avery’s own natural flavor. “I need to dump his body somewhere.”

  “Not East Lane,” a dry voice remarks. Tate rests his forearms on the counter, sipping from his own cup of coffee. He’s outfitted in the police uniform I’d seen on him before, but he has yet to distort his features into that of Officer Blake. “We usually have patrols roaming there at this time of day. Maybe Salt Lake?”

  “On it!” Avery grins at me cheerfully before sauntering towards the door, Burke’s body thumping against his bare back with every step.

  “And clean yourself up, man!” Tate gives him a disgruntled look. “You have blood on your nipples.”

  “Wow, you sly dog,” the God of Death teases. “Want to lick them clean?”

  “I’d rather stick my hand in a meat grinder,” Tate deadpans in response.

  Helio, still sitting on the sofa, tosses a rag in Avery’s direction. Why the man even has one on him remains a mystery. Maybe it’s an assassin thing.

  Or, the most likely scenario, it’s a Helio thing.

  With an irritated huff, Avery grips the legs of the body with one hand as his other wipes away the excess blood. My eyes can’t help but be drawn to his expansive golden chest, utterly enthralled by the beads of water cascading into the waistband of his jeans.

  Fuck, I want to lick him, but I tamp the need.

  The memory of our coupling has heat pooling low in my stomach and also rushing to my cheeks. Avery’s smile widens as if he’s privy to my dirty thoughts.

  His next words prove as much. “Soon, my sweets.” He lowers his hand to cup his junk through his jeans, and I swear my lady bits build a shrine in his honor.

  Tate snorts at his antics, then levels me with an unreadable look, before taking his coffee with him back to my bedroom.

  It feels as if he wrenched my heart from my chest and crumbled it in his fist. Now I’m left staring at the thousands of broken pieces, wondering if it’s at all possible for me to reassemble. But I learned long ago that you can’t fix what’s irrevocably broken. No tape or stitches are capable of mending something that’s beyond repair.

  Is that what we are? Something beyond repair? The thought sends bile surging up my throat, and I press my lips together to contain it.

  “Come,” Helio demands gruffly, opening up his arms. I don’t hesitate to throw myself at the massive man, seeking the comfort of his warm, muscular embrace. If Arsin smells like campfires and smoke, Helio reminds me distinctly of the wild outdoors—fresh pine laden with something floral.

  “Why does he hate me?” I whisper into his chest. His arms tighten around me, steel bands that I couldn’t remove even if I wanted to, which I don’t. At all.

  “He loves you,” Helio counters immediately.

  I can’t help but snort.

  Tate? Loves me? As if.

  Pain rushes through me, but anger quickly tempers it. “No, he doesn’t. But I just don’t understand why he won’t leave.”

  We’re gasoline and a match. When we connect, an explosion is inevitable. I just hope that both of us can survive the flames. Why does he stay? Why does he pretend to love me?

  The small niggle in the back of my mind becomes a large, battering ram that demands my complete and utter attention. But when I try to look at what’s bothering me, the thought flees as quickly as it comes.

  Helio and I sit in relative silence. The only sound is the steady thump-thump-thump of his heart. I listen to that, only that, and the rest of the world gradually fades away into hues of gray and silver. Despite having slept for hours earlier, I find myself unbearably tired.

  I don’t know how long we sit there, but eventually, Avery returns, an impertinent smile firmly in place.

  “How was…um…body dumping?” I query, refusing to lift my head from Helio’s neck.

  “No one should be able to find Burke,” Avery replies cheerfully, and if I didn’t know what notorious, demented act he just committed, I would think he was talking about hide and seek or something equally mundane. “By the way, your brothers called.”

  “My brothers?” I bolt upright. In light of reuniting with my men, I’d almost forgotten the atrocious truth—my brothers aren�
��t actually my brothers. Hell, for all I know, the memories I share with them could be a complete and utter lie. It’s like a wrecking ball is destroying the last of my defenses, leaving me shaky and vulnerable.

  “They want to know if you can come over for dinner tonight,” he continues, eyes worried. He drops to his knees in front of me and Helio, and places his hands on my thighs, squeezing once. “You don’t have to go if you’re not ready.”

  “No.” I shake my head vehemently. It feels as if my heart is shrinking in a rapidly growing vise. Nails are piercing my skin, rendering me immobile. “We need to figure out what they know.”

  I refuse to believe my brothers have any part to play in what happened to me and my men. They love me. They would never hurt me.

  Right?

  Avery searches my face intently, gauging my expression and ensuring my sincerity. Whatever he sees has him nodding subserviently, ambling to his feet. He shares a loaded, indecipherable look with Helio before gesturing towards the hall.

  “I’ll round up the troops.” With another nod at Helio, Avery hurries away, leaving me alone once more with my gentle giant.

  “You sure?” Helio grunts, his arms tightening around me. Despite not being able to see him, I can hear the protest on the tip of his tongue, coating it like a sickly poison. I don’t know if it stems from the pain their betrayal would cost me or the mere fact that he doesn’t want to physically let me go. Either way, I rub soothing patterns into his tan wrists.

  “I need to know. They’re my brothers, and I love them…but…”

  “But they could be behind this,” Helio finishes. He leans forward and brushes a kiss to my temple.

  “I don’t want to think that.” My hands shake, and I dig my nails into the sensitive skin of my palm. Immediately, blood wells, and I relish in the brief stab of pain. It grounds me, allows me to focus on my turbulent thoughts. “I don’t want to think the worst of them. And at the same time, I’m freaking terrified. What if it was all a lie? What if the memories we supposedly had as children were nothing but an illusion?” Tears burn my eyes, but I stubbornly hold them at bay. “My dad died when I was in high school. Did you know that?” I continue on before he can respond. “And now I wonder if that man even knew me. What if he died before he received his fake memories? What if the man I still love and adore, the man I practically worshiped, didn’t even know I existed when he was alive? Fuck, Helio.”

 

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