by Katee Robert
I press a kiss to her forehead. “You good?”
She cuddles the blanket more firmly around her shoulders and beams at me. “I’m good.”
I take a deep breath and turn to face Hades. I don’t allow myself to look at Hercules, though I can feel his eyes on me. Hades raises an eyebrow, and I sink to my knees, my body obeying before my mind has a chance to catch up. I press my palms to my thighs and spread my legs the way he likes, keeping my gaze down.
He shifts out from behind Hercules and stands. Anyone else would struggle to their feet after sitting like that so long, but Hades is perpetually graceful. One of the many things that used to fill me with awe, but now is simply part of Hades. He circles me slowly, building anticipation. Building the smallest bit of fear. I know he’ll never harm me, not on purpose, and I have absolutely no doubts that he’ll respect my safe word. Hades might bend and manipulate and make deals with the worst people in existence, but he won’t cross this line. Not with me. Not with anyone.
He finally stops in front of me. “I think the cane.”
Even though I know better, shock has me raising my gaze. “What?”
“The cane, love.” He takes my chin in a gentle grip, his expression contemplative. “I think we both know you’ve earned it.”
I suck in a harsh breath. He means I’ve earned my punishment, though I honestly don’t know if he’s punishing me or Hercules. Canes are no joke. “Hades—”
He lifts a single brow, and I swallow my words back. I hate this. I hate that he’s using me as a way to bring Hercules down…
But a part of me unfurls in sheer joy at what comes next. I’m not a true masochist, but pain brings something extra to fucking that’s always delighted me. Canes are different, yes, but in my heart, I don’t think for a second that Hades will simply beat me and leave it at that, no matter what else he has going on in that wicked brain of his. First the pain, then the pleasure. Sometimes the two intermingle, but maybe this is as much test as punishment. How far can he push me while we’re both dancing on the edge of something truly devastating?
Only one way to find out.
I lick my lips. “I would love the cane, Sir.”
“Good girl.” His soft touch urges me to my feet. I already know our destination. There’s a stylized St. Andrew’s Cross tucked in the corner, the dark wood shiny and smooth. Hades waits for me to step up to it and then cuffs my wrists so my arms are extended on either side of my head. He gives my ankles the same treatment. I don’t have to look over my shoulder to know that both Aurora and Hercules have an excellent view. The room was arranged this way on purpose, after all.
Hades moves away, and I have to fight the urge to try and twist to follow his movement. It won’t work, and it will only drive my fear and anticipation higher. I press my lips together and focus on breathing.
Hades moves to the same chest I got the paddle from and takes his time going through the options. Drawing out the moment. “There are a thousand ways to beat a submissive, little Hercules. You saw one with Meg and our lovely Aurora. A paddle gives that nice meaty smack, that delightful shock of pain. Floggers are a personal favorite of mine as you’ll find out soon.” His voice drifts behind me, and I know he’s pacing, probably fondling that fucking cane while he does. “Canes are something special. I’m going to stripe our Meg’s ass, and you’re going to sit there without moving, no matter how lovely her cries are. Do you understand?”
“But—” Hercules sounds hoarse and worried.
“Do you understand?”
Silence for a beat, two. Finally, Hercules grinds out, “I understand.”
“Good.”
I jump as he smooths a hand down my spine. “Your safe word, love.”
“Cerberus.” Always, always reminding me that this is my choice, that I have an emergency exit if I need it. Some days I relish that power, of knowing I can put a stop to our play whenever I damn well want to. Some days, today, I wish he wouldn’t remind me that this is as much my choice as it is his. I choose this. I choose him. I helped damn Hercules to a lifetime deal, whether I meant to or not. It doesn’t matter. I didn’t ask questions. I was too intent on playing the game, of taking my pleasure out of it, to worry about consequences.
Maybe Hades is right. Maybe I do deserve the cane tonight.
I resent him more than a little in that moment, for knowing what I need even before I do.
The only warning I have is the whistle of the cane before he lands his first strike. The impact shocks my breath from my lungs and for one weightless moment, there’s no pain at all. That’s how I know it will hurt. I inhale and then the pain comes, washing my vision in red.
Hades doesn’t give me a chance to recover. He lands another strike and another, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s striping my ass with perfect precision, marking me as his as effectively as if he’s tattooing his name there. I try to be silent, try to hold out, but I’ve never been able to before. Tonight isn’t enough to magically change that. A whimper slips past my lips as he hits the curve where my ass meets my thighs. Hades doesn’t stop, doesn’t relent, doesn’t do anything but strike me again.
As the next strike lands, I begin to beg.
Chapter 11
Hercules
I don’t know what’s happening to me. I watch Hades beat Meg with a long, thin cane, leaving a stripe of red welts down her pale ass and down her thighs, and part of me wants to rush in there and rip him away from her. The other, more confusing part of me, imagines what she’s feeling, and I crave it with a strength that leaves me breathless.
The other woman, Aurora, moves from the chair to sit next to me on the floor. She gives a happy sigh. “I love to watch them.”
Them.
This isn’t something Hades is doing to Meg. No, this is an intricate dance they’re doing together. Meg’s broken her composure, and she shakes and writhes, and Hades never lets up, never hesitates, never strikes anywhere but exactly where he intends. He shifts, and I see the look of utter concentration on his face that has my cock hardening to painful levels. He is entirely focused on Meg, and it’s so hot, I can barely stand it.
He finishes halfway down her calves and then drops the cane and runs his hands roughly over her newly welted skin. Her whimper turns into a throaty moan that makes my gut clench, but I can’t tell the source. Concern or desire. Some combination of both, maybe.
Up until this point, I’ve lived my life with very clear lines. Right and wrong. Yes and no. What I like and what I don’t. I feel like the moment I met Meg propelled me into this world of gray where there are no boundaries aside from a safe word, where everything can be negotiated and things that should be terrifying are actually sexy as hell. I don’t know myself in this world. I don’t have a clear path. I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.
Hades uncuffs Meg and keeps her steady as he guides her to turn around. I expect him to do what Meg did, to bring her back to the couch, maybe cuddle her a little bit, offer some kind of aftercare. He doesn’t. He cuffs her wrists back to the cross, pressing her hard enough that she lets loose another of those desperate moans. Tear tracks mark her face and her entire body is flushed and shaking. She looks like she’s been through a war, but there’s something in those blue eyes that stills me. A peace I’ve never seen on her face before.
Hades wipes her tears away with his thumbs and kisses her softly. When he lifts his head, he doesn’t look away from her. “Come here, little Hercules.”
It takes a long moment for it to penetrate that he’s talking to me, and another long moment to climb to my feet and walk to him. I can’t hide my giant cockstand, and considering Hades jerked me off not too long ago, I don’t bother to try. He motions me forward with an imperial gesture, still not looking to ensure I obey. Why would he need to, though? I’ve already promised him obedience. In this moment, it feels like I’ve promised him a whole lot more.
He catches my wrist and pulls me the last foot forward. This close, I can see
that Meg’s nipples are hard points and that the flush in her skin isn’t solely from pain. Hades shoves my hand between her thighs and presses two of my fingers deep inside her. “Jesus,” I breathe. She’s so fucking wet. She clamps around my fingers, and I can’t help pumping a little.
“You have a choice, little Hercules.”
I can’t drag my gaze from Meg—her face, her body, her pussy wetting my fingers. “What choice?”
“You can continue to observe.” His pause holds legions. “Or you can join.”
If I’m smart, I’ll retreat to the couch. These two are masters who have already proven that they won’t hesitate to manipulate me to further whatever their endgame is. I’m in over my head, and there isn’t a life raft in sight. I find myself nodding. “I’ll join.”
“Perfect.” He strokes a possessive hand down my spine, stopping at the top of my shorts. “On your knees.”
I have to stop finger-fucking Meg to obey, and she makes a little keening sound that punches me right in the chest. I want more than anything in that moment to give her the orgasm she’s obviously aching for. I take a step forward, but Hades catches my shoulder. “Ah-ah. Obedience is the first rule.” He moves to stand at my back, pressing his entire body against me. The feeling of him clothed while I’m standing naked makes every muscle clench. His voice in my ear only heightens the feverish desire in my blood. “On your knees.”
I slowly sink to my knees between them, Hades’s hand still clasped hard on my shoulder. I lick my lips and fight the impulse to lean in and lick her.
“Remind me of your safe word.” His thumb brushes my neck, a touch I’m half sure I’ve imagined.
“Olympus,” I breathe.
“Don’t move.” He gives my shoulder one last squeeze and then his heat at my back is gone.
I obey. I can’t help but do exactly what he says. Some awareness has filtered back into Meg’s gaze, and she watches me with the kind of anticipation that makes me have to fight not to close the distance between us. Hades doesn’t make me wait long. He reappears next to us with a flogger in his hand. “This is where we start you, little Hercules.” He flicks it against my chest. It stings a little bit, but I’m not sure I’d call it actual pain. Whatever Hades sees in my face satisfies him, because he moves to stand behind me again, though this time he doesn’t touch me.
His next command lashes me with more force that the flogger did. “Make her come.” I open my mouth to ask Meg what she wants, but Hades anticipates me. “Now, Hercules. You both belong to me, and me alone. My Meg deserves a reward, and I’ve decided that your tongue will do nicely. Do try not to come in your pants.”
Anger rises, and I welcome it. Just a game. This is all just a game to both of them. I move to Meg and wedge my hands under her thighs, lifting and spreading her. She’s helpless like this, in a way she wasn’t the last time we were together. It feels like we’re on equal footing for the first time since I met her.
On our knees before Hades.
I lean down and drag my tongue over her. Meg gasps, and I can’t tell if it’s the feeling of my mouth or the pain of her ass pressed against the cross. I start to back up, but freeze when pain sparks along my shoulders. I already know what happened. Hades struck me with the flogger. A reminder to obey, maybe. Or maybe he just wants to beat me the way he beat Meg. The thought sends sparks down my spine. I want it. I don’t give a fuck if I shouldn’t, I want it. I hold Meg’s gaze as I begin fucking her with my tongue the way I was commanded. An instrument of Hades’s will. With every thrust, he whips me, driving me higher, sinking into the pleasure of her taste even as pain melts into a hot, dark blanket at my back.
Meg moves as much as she’s able, rolling her hips to grind against my mouth, her blue eyes glazed with something more profound than pleasure. Something deeper. Her breath comes in gasping inhales that I begin to match without having any intention of it. It’s like Hades and Meg strip down some instrumental human part of me, leaving only beast.
I suck on her clit hard, setting my teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her head falls back as a moan slips free. She’s close. I’m afraid that I’m closer. The burning across my back and ass settles beneath my skin, drawing my balls up and sawing my breath in my lungs. “Fuck.”
“Make her come, little Hercules.” The snap in Hades’s voice brings me back to myself, just a little. Meg tries to reach for me, but her cuffs hold her immobile. It’s so sexy, I can barely stand it. I growl against her skin.
“Problem?” This time, Hades’s voice is closer. I tense the barest fraction of a second before he kneels and he’s pressed against my back again. This time I can’t hold back a moan. The friction of his clothing against my smarting skin is almost too much. I clench my jaw and fight to keep from orgasming on the spot. Then Hades’s voice is in my ear again, making it worse. “If you needed help making Meg come, you should have just asked.”
Humiliation lashes me more intensely than the flogger did. Somehow that makes everything hotter. I want to please her, to please him. I can make her come with my mouth. I know I can. She’s close even now.
But I’m not in charge.
Hades is.
He reaches around me and presses his hand to Meg’s pussy. I watch him push three fingers into her hard, already knowing exactly what she needs, and my strange shame burns hotter. Worse in some ways… as he presses his cock against my ass, I can’t help resenting the clothing barrier between us. I can imagine him driving just as deep into me as his fingers are into Meg right now. No, better than that. I can imagine him fucking me as I fuck her, even if it’d really be Hades fucking us both.
“You’re getting distracted, little Hercules.” He switches hands, delving the one still wet with Meg’s desire into my pants as he starts fucking her again with his other. He grips my cock tight and I can’t fight back a moan. Hades’s chuckle is cruel. “It would be a shame if you came before she does.”
Just like that, I can’t hold on any longer. I suck hard on Meg’s clit and come into Hades’s hand, and it’s only his clever fingers that have her following me over the edge. The pleasure goes on and on, wave after wave until my body goes limp and it’s only Hades’s arms around me that keep me from slumping over.
I rest my forehead against Meg’s stomach. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. She still doesn’t sound like herself, but I get that now. I don’t sound like myself in this moment either.
I don’t know what I expect after that. I honestly don’t. But nowhere in my realm of possibilities is it for Hades to take care of us. He eases me back from Meg and cleans up my stomach before I can dredge up the energy to do it myself. Another blanket appears and he guides me back to the floor next to the couch. At some point Aurora gets up, gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, and slips out of the room. That shame from before hasn’t gone anywhere, and it only worms its way deeper as I huddle beneath that fucking blanket and watch Hades tend to Meg.
He leans down and says something in her ear and cups her pussy in a possessive way that raises a strange kind of jealousy in me. Jealousy because I want her, yes, but jealousy in the level of caring she receives from him. She means something to him, something special. I might not understand the many undercurrents of their relationship, but even I can see that.
Hades uncuffs her and scoops her into his arms. Meg always seems larger than life, so it’s almost shocking to see how small she really is. He carries her easily to the couch and wraps another blanket around her while she’s still in his lap. I don’t know what to expect. Am I supposed to leave? The thought hurts. A lot. More than it has right to.
Somehow, he knows.
Hades taps the couch next to him with a single finger. “Up.”
My legs shake as I obey. I feel both too light and too raw, as if he’s ripped me open for his perusal. Maybe he has. I must take too long, because he grips the back of my neck and guides me until I’m leaning against them, my head in Meg’s lap. She has to spread her l
egs to make room for my shoulders, and that could have been an invitation of sorts, but it doesn’t feel like it. I close my eyes. One of them sifts their fingers through my hair, but I can’t work up the energy to open my eyes to know who. Does it even matter?
I don’t understand any of this. The actions, yes. Not the motive behind it. I can’t shake the feeling they chose me on purpose, trapped me on purpose. My father has a long history of fucking people over, and sometimes those people want revenge. They can’t get to him, so they target the people in his sphere. My mother has had no fewer than four assassination attempts since I was born. My older brother, the heir to the title Zeus, has had double that. Just because I’ve mostly be spared from that danger up to this point doesn’t mean a single damn thing.
In absence of better evidence, the only thing I can do is draw a line between these two things. Hades has some connection to Olympus. All signs point to him targeting me specifically, which means he likely is using me to get to my father.
I almost laugh at the thought, might even do it if I had the energy. Hades might know a lot, might have some deep plans running, but he obviously doesn’t realize how deep my hatred for my father goes. If he wants to use me against the man, he’s more than welcome to.
None of that explains Meg, though. She was surprised by the turn of events, which means she has no idea what Hades is planning. The thought of her being inadvertently hurt by this… Yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut and pay attention until I know something for sure. If I think for a second Meg is in danger, then I’ll fight Hades, strange attraction to him or no.
Until then, I wait.
I don’t mean to fall asleep. I have every intention of getting up and making my way… somewhere. Back to my room, I guess. I’m in no shape to sling drinks right now. But the darkness behind my eyes gains new depth and pulls me down despite myself.