Chapter 23 #2
She stopped moving and gaped at me.
“He used to call her Lettie.”
“I didn’t know that. He never told us.” The words came out rough. Guilt twisted in my chest. I should have known. Should have paid more attention. Should have made the connection.
“I hate that he might be in pain every time he hears my name. I think everyone should call me Violet instead.”
We stood in front of the door to my room. Only officers and their guests had access to this part of the building. As far as I knew, Isis was the only whore who’d ever been up here because Zeus was a fucking idiot.
I’d never fucked Echo or any of the other whores in here. Once you let them into your room, they started getting ideas about a property patch on their back. That would never fucking happen.
“Apollo will be okay.”
“Brock, you don’t know that. How can hearing the same nickname every day that he chose for his baby sister, the one who disappeared, not hurt?”
“Every day? You plan on being here every day?” I asked, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her against me. Reveling in the feel of her body pressed to mine. Her soft curves and warm skin. Her hands roamed over my chest as she smiled.
“Maybe not every day.”
My lips pressed against hers and she let out a soft sigh that had my dick aching to be inside her.
Throbbing. Demanding. I loved the whimpers and moans that came from her when I kissed her, when I touched her.
I couldn’t wait to hear the sounds she’d make when I fucked her.
When I buried myself so deep inside her she forgot her own goddamn name.
My lips never left hers as I pulled the key from my pocket and opened the door. We tumbled inside, a tangle of limbs. I lifted her up, kicked the door shut, and carried her to the bed.
Where I found Cerberus taking up most of it.
“Baby, I love the dog, but he can’t watch me fuck you.”
She giggled and wiggled until I set her down. She walked to the door and opened it.
“Wache!” she said, and Cerberus jumped off the bed, trudged out into the hall, and lay down outside the door. It clicked shut, and she leaned against it with a seductive smile.
“You gonna leave him out there all night?”
She nodded.
“Will he wander away?”
She shook her head and rolled her lips between her teeth.
“Why the fuck are you still over there?”
She grinned and ran at me, launching her lithe body into my arms. We fell backward onto the bed. Her legs straddled my hips as she leaned up, grabbed the hem of her shirt, and tossed it to the floor.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” I said, reaching for her tits.
Soft cotton, similar in feel to my T-shirt, covered them.
I ran my thumbs over her nipples, feeling them pebble, and she arched her back like a cat.
I jack-knifed up, catching her before she could fall back, and sucked her nipple into my mouth through the fabric.
Her hands ran through my hair as she held me against her, letting me have my fill. She wasn’t in a rush, and neither was I. I’d already sent out a text for a church meeting at ten, so by my estimation, I had about eleven hours to spend inside her body.
I didn’t plan on wasting a minute of it.
Lettie reached behind her and unclipped her bra. I pulled the straps down her arms and threw it onto what was now a pile of clothing, soon to have more.
“Take it all off,” I growled, lying back to watch her undress.
She stood on the bed, her feet on either side of my hips, and pulled the skirt up and over her head the same way she did with her shirt. I ran my hands up her smooth legs until I reached the waistband of her cotton panties.
The whores wore lace and thongs, if they wore anything at all, but nothing was sexier than Lettie’s cotton underwear.
The simplicity of it, the modesty. The soft fucking fabric that slipped down her legs, revealing a little patch of blonde hair leading me to the promised land like a fucking runway guiding me in.
I held her hand as she lifted one foot, then the other, pulling the panties free. I threw them on the floor with the rest of her clothes and stared up at her.
She bent her knees, trying to squat back down. “No,” I told her. “I want to look at you.” My hands ran up and down her calves, but not above her knees.
Not yet.
I licked my lips as I stared at her pussy, already wet and weeping for me. “Up here,” I said, my voice cracking with anticipation.
“Up where?” she asked with a chuckle.
I tapped my lips. “Right here.”
“Brock.” She giggled, shaking her head. I took her hand, urging her to step forward until she stood over my face, my eyes staring up between her legs.
One hand slid up the inside of her thigh. I could feel the sticky moisture dripping from her core. One finger trailed up closer and closer until my knuckle brushed over her lips, and she shuddered.
“Grab the headboard,” I ordered, sliding my finger agonizingly slowly through her wetness and into her pussy.
Her legs were already shaking, and I wrapped my hand around her knee, giving her a semblance of stability. The truth was, I wanted her so overcome with pleasure that her knees gave out.
Adding a second finger, I let my thumb circle her clit as I twisted inside her.
“Brock, please,” she begged, gripping the headboard.
“What do you want, Lettie? Tell me, my queen, and it’s yours.”
“I want your tongue in my pussy,” she said.
The boldness of her words made my dick pulse in my jeans.
There was a reason I still had all my fucking clothes on.
This woman, this beautiful creature above me, would have me coming in no time.
I prayed the pressure from my jeans would hold the fucking thing back.
“Sit down, baby.”
“W-what?” she said, her voice trembling almost as much as her body.
“Bend your fucking knees and sit on my goddamn face,” I ordered, pulling my fingers from inside her. She groaned in frustration as I grabbed her hips and dragged her down.
Her knees hit the bed on both sides of my head, and I inhaled deeply, basking in her scent. She was so fucking wet. I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on her.
“Brock, what are you... Oh fuck!” she shouted as my tongue carved a path from her opening to her clit. I gripped her thighs and pulled her closer, burying my face in her hot, wet cunt.