Chapter 7 ATHENA #2
“If I do it… will you give me my necklace?”
His grin turned wicked. “You have my word.”
He leaned back on the bench, hands planted beside him, eyes locked on mine.
Every step I took felt like walking closer to my own undoing.
He tilted his head, jaw sharp, that arrogant smile twisting his lips as if daring me to back down, but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.
I closed the distance between us with my chin high, heart pounding like a drum.
His grin faded, replaced by a sharp, intrigued look, eyebrow raised, waiting for me to flee.
When I stopped before him, my knees brushed his warm ones, heat sparking beneath my skin.
Don’t do this, Athena, the voice inside warned.
But I silenced it.
I shifted to sit, legs tucked to the side, but before I could settle, his hand shot out, resting firmly on my waist. The sudden contact made me catch my breath.
“Not like that.”
He spun me around, so I was straddling him, my legs wrapped around either side of his thick thighs.
My arms curled around his neck for balance, heart hammering in my chest. I yelped softly at the proximity, my body pressing flush against his.
His shorts were hard under me, and the friction sent a jolt straight through me.
His eyes burned into mine, lips curving in that half-smile only he could pull off as he leaned back against the bench, hands gripping the wood. I was the only one touching him.
My breath hitched. His body was solid, muscular, and strong beneath me.
I was caught in a trap, every nerve screaming that this was wrong, but my body betrayed me, betraying all my instincts.
The little devil voice inside me wants to confess how good his body felt against mine.
Warm, hard, too hard. Wait, is he…Oh my God.
I may be a virgin, but I knew exactly what cock was. And I knew how it felt when it was hard—his was hard. Not fully erect, but enough. Enough to rub deliberately against my center and set every nerve on fire. And damn, he was big.
My fingers clenched his t-shirt like I’d drown if I let go.
I was frozen, every movement feeling like a mistake.
He wasn’t even touching me, yet he controlled my entire body.
His face remained unreadable—no flicker of emotion, no sign of weakness.
Just that cocky tilt of his head, like he was studying his next prey, while I trembled helplessly in his lap.
“Can I have my necklace now, please?” I whispered, desperate for air. Thanks to him leaning back, there was just enough space between us to breathe, but not nearly enough to calm my pounding heart that threatened to tear out of my chest. He said nothing.
Slowly, with one hand, he pulled the jewel from his pocket.
The soft clink of the necklace sounded sinful in the tense silence.
I held my breath, lips pursed tight, as he closed the distance, slipping the necklace around my neck.
His eyes never left mine. When his fingers traced down my neck to adjust the clasp, he did it so deliberately, so painfully slow, as if on purpose.
My nails dug into the fabric of his shirt, aching to sink into his skin.
“You’re trembling,” he murmured, voice low against my lips.
“It’s cold,” I lied.
He tugged the chain tight, pulling me closer until our foreheads pressed together. His breath burned against my mouth.
“You’re a bad fucking liar, dollface.” His eyes dropped to my lips. “You think I don’t feel how wet you are?
Shame and heat crashed through me. I shifted slightly in his lap—too slight, too deliberate.
His cock hardened instantly, pressing against me.
His groan rumbled low in his throat, raw and rough.
The chain dug into my skin as he twisted it, almost choking me.
I shouldn’t have liked it. God help me, I did.
“Stop.” I whispered. But I was the one moving, grinding against him, chasing friction like I’d die without it.
“Fuck” he raps, as my hips move closer, faster.
One of his hands gripped the bench so tightly his veins stood out, while the other held the twisted chain around my neck, making sure I couldn’t pull away. Not that I wanted to—every brush, every press of him against me sent a wild, burning heat deep inside.
From the outside, we looked perfectly innocent—clothes on, barely touching, sitting close like lovers who couldn’t get enough of each other.
But inside me. But inside, I was burning alive.
His head dropped, eyes locked where our bodies met, watching me ruin myself on his lap.
His cock thickened and hardened beneath me as I chased the pleasure I so desperately needed.
He didn’t move, just held firm—one hand bracing the bench, the other twisting the necklace.
His green eyes burned into me as I straddled him.
“Look at you,” he rasped. “Daddy’s golden girl, grinding on a stranger. Does the thought of coming like this turn you on?”
His filthy words only drove me faster. My nails dug into his neck, dragging moans from my throat. He gripped my waist, forcing me down harder against his cock.
“That’s right.” His hand slid around my waist, gripping tight, pulling me down harder against him. “Get off on my lap, pretty girl. Show me how you fall apart.”
The chain bit into my skin, marking me. His eyes darkened, devouring. No one had ever touched me like this. Mason was gentle and careful with me. This man was reckless, merciless, and I craved every second.
Our bodies moved in a reckless rhythm—me riding his hardness, moaning with every touch as he whispered filthy things into my ear.
His voice was an addiction, dragging me lower until I was a trembling mess in his arms. The pressure inside me built, relentless and burning.
My hips moved faster, desperate for release.
The pleasure built hot and fast, spiraling until I shattered. My body convulsed against him, his hand clamping over my mouth to swallow my cries. When I slumped forward, weak and trembling, his hand shifted to stroke my cheek, almost tender. Our eyes met.
I didn’t want to move. My legs were weak, body so relaxed I could have fallen asleep right there. That orgasm had taken everything.
But then, leaning forward, inhaling his scent, the aftershock hit—the cold, sharp truth.
No.
No, no, no.
I scrambled off his lap, shame burning through me.
“This shouldn’t have happened,” I whispered, voice trembling. “I have to go.”
He closed the space in two strides, hand wrapping around the back of my neck, pinning me still. His other hand slipped behind him, and then cold steel kissed my throat.
A knife.
His grin was wicked, feral, eyes burning with fire and ice all at once.
“Not so fast, dollface,” he murmured against my lips, voice rough and dangerous. “We’re not done yet.”