by SR Jones
One kiss. One brief kiss, and I’m an aching mess.
He’s not going to come, though, not now; I’m sure of it.
I run my palms over the satin material and look at myself in the full-length mirror in the bedroom.
I see a woman who looks older than her years if you look closely. Not from the lines on my face, but from the haunted expression in my eyes.
I’ve not told Star yet, but I started to see a therapist. She’s told me I’m not responsible for what happened because I was groomed by leader Zeus from a young age, and the group was basically brainwashed, but I call bullshit on that. I was a mother, and it was my job above all else to protect my babies, and I failed.
I dread to think what would have happened to Star if fate hadn’t intervened and things hadn’t turned out the way they did.
A soft knock at the door has the breath catching in my throat. I tiptoe across the hallway and into the living room to the door. I don’t know why I’m tiptoeing. The silliness of it makes me smile. Pulling back the peephole, I slam it shut when I see Stamatis on the other side, and I press a hand to my racing heart.
This is it. Another life defining moment, I’m sure of it. I can keep the door closed, not answer and pretend I’m asleep. Or I can open the door and do something totally out of character.
I know what I’m going to do. There’s no argument, and there never was. I reach out, pull the chain back, and open the door.
“Sorry I’m late,” Stamatis says straightaway. “Damen kept me talking.”
“It’s alright. Come on in,” I say, standing back.
He enters my space, too big and bold by far. He’s outrageously sexy standing there in front of me, all confidence and quiet, steely charisma.
As he walks into the apartment, Stamatis lets his gaze run the entire length of my body, and it feels as if he’s actually caressing me.
“Nice,” he says as he reaches out and touches the scalloped edge of the nightdress at my shoulder.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I say weakly.
“I like you in this. Maybe you ought to wear it every time I come around.”
He thinks there’s going to be more clandestine meetings? Does that make me happy or scared? I can’t be sure.
“You know why I’m here, right?” he says as he looks around my room.
“For sex?” I ask, feeling utterly out of my depth.
“Yes, for sex, and I want to make sure we’re on the same page. You’re somewhat of an enigma, Rhea.”
I am?
“How so?” I ask.
“You’re inscrutable. I can’t tell what you’re thinking most of the time. Drives me crazy, but I like it.”
Men are strange. I remember once leader Zeus telling me I was an ice maiden, and it made me very attractive. I’m not made of ice. I’m made of molten emotions, but they’re so hot and fast moving, I have to keep them stuffed far below my surface. What Zeus and Stamatis see is nothing more than my version of the earth’s crust, and deep underneath is a whole other world. One I’ve never let anyone, not even my husband, see. Maybe one day I’ll find someone I trust enough to let in.
“I know why you’re here, and I’m … okay with it.” I want to laugh at myself because I might as well be a seventeen-year-old virgin for all I know what I’m doing.
He frowns at me and takes a step back, leaning against the counter of my kitchen, looking good enough to eat. “Okay with it? Listen, Rhea, if you’re not into this, I’ll leave right now. There’s no pressure here. I thought you wanted this as much as I do, but I don’t want you to feel you’ve got to do anything. I know I’m the leader of that merry band of criminals, so maybe you have the wrong idea of me, but I’d never pressure you into this.”
I’ve messed it all up with my lack of ability to speak about this stuff.
I have had a lot of sex in my life because my husband demanded it regularly, but I don’t think it was the kind of sex Stamatis will want. So long as I pulled my nightdress up and allowed my husband into my body, all was good. I enjoyed it sometimes, but not often, and quite a lot of the time it was uncomfortable, leaving me sore.
In the early days we were different, before I got pregnant, but that’s so long ago, I can’t remember it.
“No, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I want this, you, but I’m not very worldly. I’ve had sex, of course, but we didn’t discuss it really. I’m not used to talking about it quite so boldly.”
He smiles. “How about we don’t talk about it and instead we just do.”
“Do you want to come into the bedroom?”
“The bedroom sounds like a good place to start.”
I get the feeling he’s laughing at me a little maybe, and I don’t like it. I put my hands on my hips. “Just because I’m not worldly wise like most of the mistresses you take, don’t think you can laugh at me, or pity me.”
One moment I’m standing there, hands on hips, the next I’m whirled around with my back against the counter, and Stamatis is in my face.
“Listen to me good, Rhea. I don’t have mistresses. I wasn’t always faithful to my wife when we were younger, but I have been for the longest time. From the first moment I saw you, I knew I wanted you, and I knew I no longer wanted to stay married. I asked my wife for a divorce today. That’s not on you, or for you, so don’t go panicking, but it’s where she and I are. As for pity? I don’t pity you. To be honest, you’re probably one of the few people in this world who scare me a little.”
“Scare you? Why? How?”
“Because I can’t figure you out, and I can’t figure out what it is you make me feel either. I’m a man who knows what he wants, exactly what he wants; with you it’s not so simple. But if you think I’m looking down on you because you don’t have a wealth of experience asking men into your bedroom, you’re a million miles away from the truth of where we are.”
Wow. I have a feeling Stamatis isn’t normally a man who makes long speeches, and this one means something. “Okay, I’m sorry. Have I ruined this?” I ask nervously. I feel as if I’ve wrecked the night before it has begun.
“No, you haven’t ruined it.” He takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom.
The low glow of the lamp illuminates the harsh planes of his face in dips of light and shadow, and I think he’s probably one of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen.
Alesso is one of the prettiest, but Stamatis is handsome in an old-fashioned way you don’t see much anymore. He has a gravitas about him, and it lends his appearance an air of real authority.
My stomach is full of butterflies, and they’re flapping their wings like crazy at having a dangerous, sexy man like this in my space.
He grabs hold of my hair, making me jump a little. “Gorgeous hair,” he says. Then he brings it to his face and sniffs it. “Coconut,” he says with a smile. “I’ve been wondering what your hair smelled like.”
His big hand wraps some of my hair around his fist in a twist and pulls me to him. It’s gentle enough it doesn’t hurt, but commanding enough to make me nervous, and turned on at the same time.
Softly, he places a kiss to the side of my mouth, then the other side. His lips are like a whisper against my skin. Then he kisses my cheeks, my nose, my forehead, before placing one solemn, gentle kiss right on my mouth.
It’s as if he’s worshiping me. I hadn’t expected this. I’d expected hard and fast sex. Maybe even sex like I’ve had to endure for many years, but maybe naked. I still think I’d have found it exciting because of the circumstances and who Stamatis is, but this isn’t anything I had imagined when I let my mind run off into a fantasy.
I can taste the alcohol he’s drank against my lips, and I part them tentatively. The action seems to please Stamatis because his fist tightens in my hair, and a groan rumbles through his belly, echoing inside me as it vibrates against me. He flicks his tongue out and traces the edge of my lips, the sensation almost like a tickle. Then he sweeps into my mouth, and the taste of him invades me in th
e best way. He tastes of all the dark things I’ve spent my life praying away, and now find myself running toward.
His fist leaves my hair, and strong hands sweep down my waist and over my hips as he bunches the material of my nightdress. My heart pounds as, inch by inch, he lifts the material up. I’m not wearing panties. Oh, my this just got very real.
Cool air hits my most private place, and I cover myself with one hand, but Stamatis shakes his head, pulls my hand away, and sinks to his knees.
What is he doing?
His hands grip my hips, and he kisses me there—right there. I’ve never done this. Papan said it wasn’t right. We tried it once before Star was born, but he didn’t like it. I don’t want Stamatis doing something he doesn’t enjoy. It must not be nice down there, surely?
Mortified, I move back, and he looks up at me, dark eyes full of fire. “What, Rhea? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t want you to do that,” I say.
He frowns. “You don’t like it?”
“No… I mean, I don’t know. I haven’t done it before, not really. It’s not … nice. For you, I mean.”
He chuckles. “How about you let me decide what’s nice for me, and you only stop me if it’s not nice for you. Deal?”
I nod, but I’m conflicted. I should be pleasing him. The next moment he licks me right between my folds, and I stop thinking because I can only feel.
He uses the fingers of one hand to part me further, and then he licks me. It’s so intense my knees buckle, but his other arm is around my back, holding me steady.
“Let’s move this to the bed, so I can go to work properly,” he says, looking up at me with a wicked grin.
I climb onto the bed, and he undresses. He takes off everything except for his black underwear, which does little to conceal his arousal.
I stare at the work of art that is his body. He’s muscular and cut into jagged definition. His stomach is all dips and ridges, and he has those lines of muscle running down between his stomach and hips, same as the Greek statues have.
He’s like one of the gods we worshipped in the commune come to life. The men in our community tended to be strong because they did a lot of physical labor, but my husband was a rangy man, leaning more toward skinny. I’ve never seen a man with a physique like this in person.
I swallow as he advances on me. He pulls me down the bed by my ankles, causing me to gasp in surprise.
“Going to do this right,” he says before lowering his dark head between my spread thighs.
Oh, gods above in the heavens, forgive me for I am a sinner.
Pleasure like I’ve never known washes over me, engulfing me until I’m panting and my legs are shaking. I try to move them, to press them together, to get more of something, but Stamatis holds me still. Then, when I think I can’t take anymore, he presses a finger inside me, and I arch off the bed. He adds a second and pushes them in and out of me slowly, before going back to working my nub with his mouth.
He crooks his fingers and presses them against something that makes me cry out. He does it again, and again, all the while sucking on the bundle of nerves with his mouth.
When I fall, I don’t just tip over the edge; I fall apart.
CHAPTER FIVE
Stamatis
I drink her up. Greedy for everything she gives me. I swallow her taste, breathe in her scent, and drown in her cries as she bucks against me, coming hard and long.
Yes, this is what I wanted.
To see what lay underneath her buttoned-up exterior.
Rhea is a hot woman acting cool.
She throws one arm over her face, and I smile in satisfaction, but then my heart stutters because I see tears making their way down her cheek.
Shit.
Fuck, have I pushed her too far? Hurt her? I don’t see how.
“Hey,” I crawl up her body and move her arm. “Hey, what’s wrong? Rhea? I’m sorry.”
“No,” she says with a sniff. “I’m so embarrassed, it’s just … I’ve not … you know, that, in years. I think it’s the release.”
“You’ve not come?” I ask, puzzled.
“No. My husband, he didn’t care about that, not for the longest time.”
I kiss her tears from her face. “Didn’t you ever take care of yourself?”
“We were told it is a sin,” she replies.
“You’re not there anymore; you don’t have to live by those rules now.”
“I know, but it feels … wrong. I tried.”
She surprises the shit out of me then by reaching for me and kissing me so hard our teeth clack against one another. “I want more,” she whispers in my ear.
Holy shit, she only needs to ask.
“You want my cock?” I ask, pulling back to watch her face.
She flushes, but nods.
“Let’s take this off completely.” I tug at her nightdress, still bunched around her waist, and she raises her arms so I can take it all the way off.
Her full breasts spill out, and they’re larger than I’d thought they would be. They look mouthwatering on her slim frame. Her waist is small, her hips lean but gently curved, and her legs are slim, but her breasts are those you’d expect to see on a curvier woman.
I palm one in my hand, plumping it and watching as she shivers when I blow across her peaked nipple. I blow again, and then take that raspberry red, rough peak into my mouth and suck.
“Oooh,” she sighs, arching her back.
She’s so responsive. How could her husband fuck her and not want this—her sighs, her moans, her shaking under him?
I’m so hard, I’m about to explode. I push up for a moment, onto my knees, so I can shove my boxer briefs down. I’m leaking at the tip, wanting to come all over her tits and pussy, but not today.
I want her to come again, with me inside her.
I reach for my trousers discarded on the floor and take my wallet out, pulling the condom out of the side pocket.
Rhea watches me with big eyes as I roll it on. I’m not exactly small, and I like to think she’s impressed by what she sees.
As I line myself up at her entrance, I pause. “Are you sure?” I ask.
She bites her swollen bottom lip and nods. “Yes,” she says all breathy and Monroe like.
I kiss her as I push in, wanting to taste her too.
She moans into my mouth, and it’s so hot. I pause, letting her adjust to me. God, she’s tight, as if she’s not done this for the longest time. I grit my teeth, not wanting to blow my load this early in the proceedings.
Rhea is still as I start to move within her, and I don’t want that, so I kiss her neck, getting a shiver from her and another soft moan. I’m in fucking heaven, but I’m not sure about her. Her eyes are half closed, heavy lidded, her mouth is parted, and her cheeks are flushed, but she’s so damn still.
Is this how she thinks she ought to behave? I reach down between us and circle her clit with gentle fingers. She starts to breathe more forcefully so I up the pressure, and then I hitch her hips with my other hand, and change the angle.
“Ah, my God,” she cries out.
There we go; that’s what I want. She’s breathing heavily, her glorious tits rising and falling rapidly, but she’s still … restrained.
Fuck this. I want her to come so hard she stops holding back.
I pinch her clit and hit her g-spot as I thrust harder and harder, and she cries out, almost a scream as her nails dig into my back. She comes hard around my cock, and I follow her over the edge, filling the condom when really, I want to be filling her.
She puts a hand against her chest, pressing it there as if willing her heart to calm down, and it makes me smile.
There’s a sheen of sweat over her skin and hair. I brush her hair back from her forehead and kiss the tip of her nose. Needing to clean up and get rid of the condom, I head into the bathroom, and come back to her with a towel, which I wipe gently between her thighs. She’s a sticky mess, all of it her because my contribution is now
in the bathroom bin, and it’s proof she enjoyed herself even if at times she was muted.
I don’t want to say anything because maybe that’s just how she enjoys sex? Nothing wrong with being still if that’s what works for you, but I get the impression she’s holding back. Trying to control her response, even.
“That was … intense.” She fans her face with one hand.
“Glad to be of service,” I joke.
“Oh, you were. You can come and be of service again, if you like?” She glances at me from under her lashes, shy and unsure.
“I’d love to, but maybe before then, we can go for lunch one day?”
I don’t know why I ask her that. I’m about to enter a very ugly separation, so the last thing I need is to be complicating my life further. Something tells me that right now Rhea would happily settle for some no-strings sex, if only for a little while. I want more, though. Not hearts and flowers. I’ve done the marriage shit already, but … something. A friends-with-benefits kind of arrangement maybe. All I know is I want to get to know her more and see what makes her tick. She’s still a delectable mystery.
“I ought to go,” I tell her. I might have told Lena I want us to separate, but I don’t want to give her any ammunition against Rhea. I can’t be totally sure Lena wouldn’t do something rash if she thought I was seeing someone else. After spending over twenty years as my wife, she has access and knowledge of some pretty unsavory characters, and while most wouldn’t dare go against me, some would do anything for money.
If she goes quietly, Lena is about to have an awful lot of cash; cash she might use against Rhea.
“Okay, sure.” She seems a little crestfallen, and I feel bad I can’t stay and hold her until she falls asleep. I bet she gets lonely. Hell, who I am kidding; I get lonely sometimes with nothing but hate oozing through the walls at me from Lena’s room.
I kiss her on the mouth, soft and sweet, the way I think a woman like Rhea might appreciate.
“How about tomorrow for lunch?” I ask, and she brightens.
“That would be lovely,” she says.
“Great, see you about one? At Spiro’s near Kolonaki?”
“I don’t know it, but I’ll find it,” she says.