by Rhea Watson
I left her as soon as she nodded, sweeping across the room to settle in the middle of the couch, the suite less chaotic than her last visit. There was nothing left for me to research—nothing to do but wait. My books, my files, my parchments riddled with notes and angst were stacked on the floor under the window, out of sight enough that they couldn’t call to me when I needed the busywork.
Because reading the same bollocks over and over again only irritated me at this point.
And there was nothing in this village to help blow off steam when the frustration became unbearable—nothing but Alecto frantically peeling her clothes off, stripping down to a pair of simple black panties.
My cock came to life immediately, rising alongside her pebbling nipples, forcing me to shift and tuck it so it didn’t stab into her throughout the scene.
“Come here, little one,” I ordered gruffly, beckoning her with a crooked finger and a lazy, dangerous smile. She started in a flash, like a sprinter leaping off the block, but stilled as soon as I raised my hand. “Did I say you could walk?”
Cheeks heated, Alecto slowly sank to her knees—then crawled across the dark wood floor with such an exquisite sway in her hips, head up, eyes never leaving mine. For her sake, I kicked the coffee table a few feet out, making room for her to kneel at my feet in the perfect position. Shoulders back. Knees together. Hands demurely on her thighs and gaze downcast.
Marvelous.
Well done, little one. We hadn’t even worked on this—it was something she had taken upon herself to perfect.
I rewarded her with a tender stroke of her cheek, dragging my knuckle along her soft skin, all the while shoving aside the image of her panicked, watery eyes that night in the siren cave, the memory of her frantic aura and terrified plea for me not to leave. Blinking hard, I worked up to her hair, tracing her curls, loving them for their variety, that there was nothing predictable about them. They went where they wished, however they wished, wild and free.
Overall, my girl looked better today than she had during the last visit. Better rested, brighter-eyed, her smile wider and her neck…
Bitten.
I stiffened at the faint pink dots near her fluttering pulse point.
Then let it go.
Of course he would… mark her.
They had belonged to each other from the start, and I should have been happy that she had another constant in her life besides that flighty fae.
Yet my blood ran cold at the thought of Alecto having Bjorn and Gavriel and no one else.
Not me.
Not us.
“Up,” I told her roughly as I pulled away, desperate to recenter in the scene—and struggling. “Across my lap.” Struggling to be the Dom she needed, the Dom I had always been with all the rest. “I’m going to paint your ass red, little one.”
Alecto all but moaned as she climbed up the couch. “Thank you, Sir.”
As soon as she had all four limbs on the cushion, I took over, forcing her down and stretching her across my lap. My submissive helped somewhat, pliant to my harsh touch, shimmying so that her rounded backside sat right in the center of my lap.
Right over my aching cock, much harder now than it had been ten seconds ago.
Despite all that, once I had her where I wanted her, I simply stared at her back—at her creamy skin, at the freckles stretched between her shoulders. The past few days, I hadn’t felt much of anything. Numb. A symptom of depression, anxiety, fear—just this hollow nothingness. No trips downstairs for me. No walkabouts through the village.
Toss Alecto Clarke over my thighs and the embers flared again. Feeling licked its way up my spine. Desire. Want. Relief that I wasn’t alone in this world.
Just this flat.
Teeth gritted, I gave her a warm-up smack to her right cheek, and Alecto yelped a little too loudly, almost like she had done so for my sake.
Like she was… pitying her Dom, playing it up to make him feel better.
That wasn’t the point of our scenes.
Eyes narrowed, the next smack fell harder, sharp and biting enough to make her cry out in earnest this time.
“Hush now,” I whispered, smoothing my palm over the heated skin, infatuated with the blooming rosy hue. “You don’t want the punters to hear you.”
“Sorry, Sir,” she murmured back—but the warning and her apology did nothing to muffle her noises. With one arm across her back, the other found its rhythm, spanking one cheek and then the other, back and forth, changing it up every now and again to throw her off. I didn’t bother with much of a warm-up, the thought of leaving her bruised and sore for days driving me to be brutal from the start.
And Alecto took it, every last strike.
Barely.
In time, she buried her face in the couch cushion to muffle her shrieks, and when I grabbed the waistband of her panties and wrenched it up, tugging the fabric between her red, abused cheeks, she swiped back in protest.
“No, Sir, that’s too much—”
“Put your fucking hand down, little one,” I growled. While I could have easily caught her wrist and slammed it back to the couch myself, I waited for her to do it on her own terms. Trembling, my girl slowly lowered her arm, then buried her hands under her head, lost beneath that curly mane.
For good measure, I tugged her panties up higher, ensuring the tight ache between her thighs, her pretty pussy squished between the fabric. Her little moan only made my cock harder, and I resumed my pace without mercy, without kindness, turning her skin the most exquisite shade of red as she wailed into the couch.
I spanked her until I was spent, not her.
Until I had had enough. Not once did her safeword arise, though she did try to wriggle off my lap a few times—a firm arm clamped over her thighs had put an end to that, along with a punishing few smacks to the ticklish bottoms of her feet.
High on adrenaline and her wails, I forced myself to sit back and take a breath despite the desperation in my heart for something more. More than pain. More than a carefully constructed scene. More than… this.
Conversation. Banter. Laughter and smiles and discussion outside of kink. I craved knowledge—her favorite color, her favorite song, her favorite food. I yearned to know what she looked like first thing in the morning, sleepy-eyed and crusted with drool. I desired the mundane. The vanilla.
For her heart’s sake, I’d have to settle for kink.
So, even though I longed to do more, I stretched my arms out along the back of the couch to give her space—to let her come down from the intensity of all that pain, her ass on fire. While I hadn’t said as much, I was content to let her sprawl for hours.
Alecto was up in seconds.
Up and straddling my thighs, along with my very, very, very prominent erection. It must have been jabbing into her hard throughout the ordeal, despite my best efforts to always keep my arousal out of this.
Yet she brought it to the forefront, grinding against it as she settled into my chest.
“Alecto, please—”
“You aren’t my boss right now,” she argued fiercely, eyes shimmering, cheeks wet, hair wild. Breasts crushed to my clothed chest, to nothing more than a plain sweater, centuries gone by since I put on one of my suits, Alecto snaked her arms around my neck with a gasp. “And…” Her tongue flicked out across her lower lip, voice plummeting to a strained whisper as she added, “And I miss you.”
Those words broke me.
Which was why I let her kiss me—let her mouth crash to mine with the intensity of a shooting star, bright and fiery, beautiful and passionate. While her eyes fluttered closed the moment our lips parted, I kept mine open, struggling, fighting with myself. My hands found her hips with the best of intentions to stop this, but then there were my fingers bruising into her curves, dragging her closer.
Marking her just like Bjorn had.
The thought triggered something dark and feral in my chest, something that frightened me, felt even in my aura, my magical signature thickeni
ng like storm clouds.
It should have scared her, too, but Alecto only kissed harder, deeper, her dainty hands clutching my face as she rocked against me.
When she grabbed my hand and brought it to her breast, I should have retreated.
I should have pumped the brakes when she guided my fingers over her puckered nipple, then down her side.
When she shoved me between her thighs, I should have tossed her off and found my control.
I groaned instead, finding the cotton soaked with need.
I hooked a domineering arm around her waist. Pulled her close when I should have pushed her away.
Nipped savagely at her lower lip when she steered my hand up—then under the waistband of her panties.
Down, down, down to her cleft, to her slick lips and swollen clit. I growled into her mouth, my other hand suddenly fisted in her hair, then greedily devoured her startled cries at the shock of pain that must have suddenly ripped through her skull when I twisted those curls.
Because they were fucking mine.
Same as her pussy, claimed by two fingers that she chose.
Two fingers that I nudged into her entrance, but she slammed down on with a moan of wild abandon.
“Fuck,” I hissed against her brutalized lips, smitten with the way she rode me, rocking back and forth, swirling her hips, our breaths coming hard and fast as one.
“Is this all right, Sir?” She whimpered the question through a barely there kiss, our foreheads together, our mouths a breath apart. I gritted my teeth as I stroked her inner walls, the darkness inside hungry for her, desperate to yank those two fingers away so I could taste her—so I could make her watch and squirm.
But a few tenuous strands of restraint remained, loosening my grip on her hair, slowing my crooked fingers. “You know it isn’t.”
“Do you want me to stop?” Alecto dislodged herself from me with surprising ease, but conflict shone like golden headlights in her eyes. Panting, she even lifted off my fingers and eased my hand out of her panties, aware of my boundaries, ready to resist this connection we shared if I asked. Her throat bobbed through a gulp, and she brushed her curls from her face. “Really. I understand if you do.”
She didn’t.
I could see it in her eyes. Why don’t you want me?
Of course I wanted her.
I just wanted all of her—and that wasn’t in her best interest.
Only a selfish bastard would have her drown right alongside him.
But having her strewn across my lap, practically naked, panting, tearstained cheeks and swollen lips—rumpled and perfect and still concerned about my limits.
Of course I didn’t want this to stop.
I wanted to tell the rules we made to go fuck themselves.
I wanted my girl, my little one—my Alecto.
“Alecto, I…” Shit. “I…” I want you so fucking bad—but I can’t. “We…”
Her lower lip wobbled—until I snapped it up between my teeth, kissed her with such ferocity that she squealed. Just like that, we found our rhythm again, in nothing more than a kiss that had need throbbing low in my core, cock so hard it physically hurt as she tugged my sweatpants down, then my briefs, then—
“Oh.”
“What?” I straightened, on high alert and worried that I had finally been too brutal with her. “Did I hurt you?”
“No, I…” Cheeks beet red, Alecto shook her head and tried to kiss me again—distract me, more like. When I caught her by the chin and held her back, an eyebrow arched, she exhaled an embarrassed chuckle, eyes everywhere but me. “You’re just…”
I gave her a few seconds to flounder, then cleared my throat and gently nudged her under the chin with my knuckles. “Out with it, little one.”
“You’re bigger than I’m used to,” she blurted, all the simmering tension briefly shattered. “Sorry, sorry, total buzzkill moment, I just—”
“Yes, no man ever wants to hear he has a big cock.”
She gawked back at me, mouth opening and closing wordlessly before it stretched into a shocked smile, incredulous little giggles falling from her lips. “Right. Yeah.”
“Go slow, little one,” I murmured, tracing her gorgeous mouth with my thumb, both of us stumbling into each other’s thrall again. “I’ll be gentle.”
What the fuck are you doing?
Be gentle?
You should be running for the hills and let her live her life—
“No,” Alecto whispered. She then had the audacity to snap at my thumb, catching the pad with her teeth sharp enough to make me flinch. Gone was the shock in her eyes, the wobble in her words—all that replaced with a cheeky smirk. “No, Jack, I don’t want that.”
For her gall, I took her by the throat and yanked her back to me. Kissed her like a punishment. To appease the monster lurking in my little one, the beast who adored pain, I ripped her panties clean off—tore the fabric seams, not caring that it might pinch her most tender bits.
My little one’s reaction was music to my fucking ears—again. She squirmed and giggled, winced and cried out, then rocked up to seize the power position in this kiss. Only this once would I let her be taller than me, dominate me with her hands clutching at my jaw and her tongue tangling with mine. I tossed the torn cotton aside, then took proper hold of her, both hands on her curvaceous backside, groping and cupping and squeezing the tender skin.
While she had practically demanded I be rough with her, I held back as soon as her slick center engulfed the head of my cock. Alecto stilled, her breath hitching, and slowly sank down, adjusting to my girth, my size, our kiss an afterthought while her body accommodated me.
And for the first time, I sat back and let her drive. I usually set the pace with lovers. Set the tone, the timing—everything. I’d always thought that was what I would enjoy the most, what my personality demanded.
But this…
I closed my eyes with a long, contented sigh the farther she sank down my shaft. Even with the pleasure turning fiery, I had never felt more at peace.
This was how you disconnected from the world.
This was the distraction I’d always craved, the only way to truly lose oneself in the moment.
It’s because this is real, Jackie boy.
I smoothed a firm hand up her back to the nape of her neck, cupping it tenderly. This was real—her and me, one, bonded and bound.
Everything that came before suddenly had an artificial glint in my mind’s eye.
Kink had been… pretend.
Faux intimacy.
Just a fantasy.
Alecto shivered when she finally sank down to the hilt, then nestled against my shoulder with a delicate, breathy moan that made my heart sing. Although my body demanded I move, buck up and fuck her, I waited just a little longer. Her arms curled between us, tucked against my chest as we had done time and time again in our aftercare. Like this, my little one bare before me, I felt her heart whumping, beating from her body to mine.
All that came before was false.
What a bloody fool I’d been.
We could have had this from the start.
Months and months—
But now I was tainted.
I’d ruined everything before it started, and suddenly every other failure in my life paled in comparison to this one.
“Jack?” Alecto straightened, but even the slightest motion, no matter how fluid and smooth, made her tighten around my cock in the most delicious torment. “Are you okay?”
I blinked back at her; that was the last thing I’d expected to hear. My world might have flipped on its head tonight, but my mask should have stayed intact. She shouldn’t be able to see… me. That was how I had survived all these years, and now I’d slipped.
“Of course, little one,” I murmured, stroking my knuckles across her cheekbone, then into her hair. Her frown deepened as if she didn’t believe a word of it, and she eased back further to appraise me, her hands on my shoulders.
“Becaus
e you look like”—her amber gaze slashed across my face—“you’re in pain.”
“I think I am,” I admitted hoarsely, heart seizing control before the mind could spin some believable lie. I gnashed my teeth and looked between us, down the valley of her breasts to where we joined, unable to stand the way her eyes widened.
“Oh. Should I—?”
Alecto needn’t say it aloud. She started to retreat, pushing up, about to wriggle off and away, but my chuckle stilled her. My smile seemed to soothe her. And my firm pressure on her waist had her sinking back down my cock.
“Not that kind of pain,” I assured her. Nothing physical. Physically, I was ablaze, content to burn forever. “It’s deeper. The kind you feel…” My finger hovered over her heart. “Here.”
My little one wrapped both her hands around the one of mine, pressing the whole thing to her chest as she whispered, “Why?”
I shook my head. “I can’t…”
Can’t articulate it without hurting you.
Ruining this—us.
She took a beat for herself, and just when I thought I’d lost her to thought, Alecto stole a kiss that was gasoline to the fire, and I pushed the rest of the bollocks aside to live in the moment.
Claiming her mouth for my own, determined that she left tonight bruised and marked and mine, I finally set to work on our pace. Taking her by the hips, I guided her up and down, while Alecto bucked and rocked, riding me without fear. When our lips broke apart, she stayed close, her arms around my neck, her forehead to mine, her gaze lost behind her lids.
“Come home, Jack,” she urged through a long, torturous moan. “Please. Please come back to me.”
Seven hells. I snapped at that—at her heart calling to mine so loud and clear that I couldn’t resist any longer. Alecto yelped when I flipped her onto her back, shoving her into the couch and smothering her body with mine. With one hand gripping the flimsy armrest, I pounded her into the cushion, desperate for the connection, for the melding of our bodies, minds, and souls.
Not kink. Just us.