Chapter 29 Katerina #2
His kiss is gentle at first, then deeper, more insistent. I respond, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. He's still fully dressed, the fabric of his suit rough against my naked skin.
When we break apart, he spins me around and pins my back against his hard body.
"Watch," he commands. "I want you to see what I do when I look at you."
His hands start at my shoulders before sliding down my arms, then back up. He cups my breasts, pinching my nipples until I gasp. One hand trails down my stomach and between my legs.
I watch in the mirror as he touches me, as my body responds. I see my chest rise and fall with quickened breaths, see my lips part, my legs spread, see my eyes darken with desire.
And for the first time, I don't see the scars first. I see a woman—whole, complete, desired.
I swallow hard, watching his hand move between my legs, watching the pleasure transform my face.
"Do you see what I see now?" Ares whispers against my ear, his breath hot against my skin. His fingers circle my clit with deliberate pressure, making my knees weak. "Do you see how beautiful you are when you let yourself feel freely?"
I can barely form words, my focus shifting between the sensation of his touch and the startling image of myself in the mirror.
"I—" My words dissolve into a gasp as he slides a finger inside me, then another. My hips buck against his hand instinctively.
"Watch," he commands again, his voice rough with desire. "Don't look away."
I force my eyes to stay open, to remain fixed on our reflection. His dark gaze meets mine in the mirror, and the intensity I find there steals what little breath I have left. He's fully clothed, powerful and controlled behind me, while I stand naked, exposed in every way possible.
Yet I don't feel vulnerable.
His teeth graze my neck, and I arch against him, feeling his hardness press against my back through his clothes. His fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes pleasure shoot through me.
"Ares," I breathe, my voice barely recognizable.
"Tell me what a worthy, beautiful woman wants, Katerina. What a queen needs," he demands, his fingers slowing to an agonizing pace.
I'm not used to voicing my desires. Before Ares, I didn't even know I had desires. "I want..." I stop, hesitating.
"Say it." His thumb presses harder against my clit, making my thoughts scatter. "Tell me exactly what you want."
I meet his eyes in the mirror and something breaks loose inside me, some final wall crumbling.
"I want you to make me come," I whisper.
A dangerous smile spreads across his face, and his eyes darken further. "Good girl."
His fingers increase their rhythm, and his other hand leaves my breast and grips my hair, ensuring I keep watching, unable to look away.
"Look at your beautiful body," he murmurs. "How it responds to me. How it knows who it belongs to."
My breathing becomes ragged as the pressure builds. I watch, transfixed, as my thighs begin to tremble, as my stomach muscles tighten. I can see the flush spreading across my chest, rising to my neck, turning my cheeks red.
Ares adds a third finger, stretching me, filling me, and I let out a cry.
He circles my clit as my hands reach back to grip his thighs, needing something to hold onto.
"That's it," he encourages, his voice a dark caress. "Let go so I can see you."
My eyes want to close, want to surrender to the sensation, but I force them to stay open. I watch as my body tenses, as my mouth falls open in a silent cry. I'm teetering on the edge, so close I can taste it.
Ares growls and curls his fingers just right.
The orgasm crashes through me like a tidal wave. My back arches, my thighs clamp around his hand, and a cry tears from my throat. I watch in amazement as pleasure contorts my features, as my body shakes and trembles in his arms.
It's beautiful.
I'm beautiful.
The realization hits me with the same force as my climax, and tears spring to my eyes. I've never seen myself this way before—powerful in my vulnerability, strong in my surrender.
Ares doesn't stop, drawing out my orgasm until I almost collapse in his arms, my body convulsing against his hand.
For the first time, I understand what Ares sees, not a broken woman, not damaged goods, but something fierce and beautiful. Something worth possessing. Something worth protecting.
Not something.
Someone.
Me.
As I come down from the high, limp in his arms, Ares presses against me, grinding his hips.
Ares gently releases his grip on my hair, and I immediately turn to face him.
My legs are still trembling from my orgasm, but I'm filled with a newfound confidence that surges through me like electricity.
For the first time, he's made me feel beautiful, powerful, worthy of the hunger I see in his eyes.
I capture his mouth with mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth as I taste him. My hands climb up his chest, feeling the hard planes beneath his suit jacket. I push it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor beside my discarded dress. My fingers fumble with his tie, too eager to be careful.
"Let me," he murmurs, loosening the knot himself.
I shake my head, pulling back. "No. I want to unwrap you myself."
A dangerous heat flashes in his eyes. He drops his hands to his sides, surrendering control to me—his wife and queen.
I slide the tie free, letting the silk slither through my fingers before dropping it. My hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, revealing his tanned skin. When I push the shirt open, my eyes wander over his muscled torso and tattoos.
I lean forward, pressing my lips to the Spartan over his heart. His skin is hot beneath my mouth, and I feel his muscles tense as I trace the outline of the shield with my tongue. His breathing deepens, growing heavier as I move across his chest.
My tongue glides over the owl next, tasting my man completely. His hands find my waist, gripping me tightly, letting me worship him as he worshipped me moments ago.
I trail kisses down his stomach, following the dark line of hair that disappears beneath his waistband. My fingers find his belt, unbuckling it slowly.
I look up at him through my lashes as I unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. His eyes are molten with desire, his jaw clenched. I push his pants and boxer briefs down together, freeing him.
His cock is hard, ready. I wrap my hand around him, feeling the velvet skin. He's big, but after our previous encounters, I know my body can take him—can accommodate everything he has to give.
I stroke him a few times, watching his face as pleasure overtakes him, but there's no need to warm him up; Ares is more than ready, his arousal evident in the way he throbs in my hand.
I turn around on my own this time, facing the mirror, and bend slightly at the waist. Our reflections stare back at us—me naked and flushed with desire, him half-clothed, his shirt hanging open to frame his muscular, chiseled chest.
"Take me," I command softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror.
I want to watch his face as he enters me. See the moment we become one.
Ares positions himself, one hand gripping my hip, the other guiding himself to my entrance.
Our eyes lock in the reflection and with one powerful thrust, he fills me.
I cry out as pleasure-pain shoots through me. He's so deep, stretching me to my limits. I can feel every inch of him, pulsing inside me.
"Fuck," he growls, his hands gripping my hips tighter. "You feel incredible."
I can't speak, can only nod as I adjust to his size. My body throbs around him, already eager for more despite the initial discomfort. I push back slightly, begging him to move.
He draws out slowly before driving back into me. Each thrust is intoxicating, each retreat a torture. I watch in the mirror as he disappears into me again and again, mesmerized by the sight.
"Look how perfectly we fit together," he says, his voice rough with pleasure. "Look how beautiful you look taking my cock."
I smile.
We do fit perfectly, like two halves of something whole finally coming together. My body accepts him as if made for this purpose, as if designed specifically to receive him.
Ares increases his pace. One hand slides up my right side over my scar, and to my surprise, I lean into it. I don't hide, I don't turn, I don't dread his touch there.
Why should I?
"Yes, baby," Ares says, holding me tightly as he thrusts into me.
His other hand finds my clit again and I gasp. I'm still hypersensitive from my earlier orgasm, and his touch sends electric currents through me. My legs begin to shake, threatening to give out beneath me.
Sensing my weakness, Ares wraps an arm around my waist, holding me up as he continues his relentless rhythm. The room fills with sounds of skin against skin, deep breaths, and occasional moans.
It's the perfect soundtrack to this moment.
I watch his face in the mirror, captivated by the raw emotion I see. Gone is the calculated control, the careful restraint. In its place is something wild and primal—a man consumed by desire, by possession—all because of me.
"You're all mine," he growls, his eyes burning into mine through the reflection.
"All yours, baby," I gasp as he hits a spot deep inside me that makes stars explode behind my eyelids.
His rhythm falters at my words, his control slipping. He drives into me harder, deeper, each thrust pushing me closer to the edge.
"Do you see how beautiful you are now? How you make me lose myself in your body?" he demands my answers.
"Yes," I say. Because it's true.
I now feel we belong to each other, bound by something deeper than marriage vows or family alliances.
My body begins to coil as my second orgasm builds faster than I anticipated—a tidal wave gathering strength. I can feel it coming, can feel my body tingling around him.
"Ares," I moan.
"Let me feel you come on my cock," he says, his voice strained with the effort of maintaining control.