Chapter 37
Aurora
The entire next day and night pass like a fairy tale. Desire and I fuck almost nonstop, in unison with the roars of Zeus mating with his lionesses in the enclosure. He mercifully leaves my ass alone, giving it time to heal, and focuses on my cunt.
I didn’t resist when he brought me here. Not after the hell at my parents’ house, and after my nightmare turned into a dream come true. Desire is everything I need. His cock is the best antidepressant in the world. Far more effective than the fucking handbooks from psychotherapy clinics.
I wander around the house in his oversized T-shirts and sweatpants, the cuffs dragging on the floor. Though, Desire will have to seriously restock his wardrobe soon because he loves tearing clothes right off me.
The next morning, after taking a shower, I walk out of the bathroom. “Desire, are you going to take me home?”
He’s just entering the bedroom. “You are at home.”
I raise an eyebrow and jut out my breasts tightly wrapped in a towel. Another towel is twisted into a turban on my wet hair.
“I mean my apartment. All my stuff is there. I can’t show up for class at Stonehaven in your sweatpants.”
“You brought a suitcase of clothes.”
“Those aren’t the right clothes!” I put my hands on my hips.
My parents are still paying for my education, and I shouldn’t piss off my mom by skipping class to fuck the guy who yelled at her.
“Forget about Stonehaven.” Desire licks his lips at my half-exposed breasts beneath the terry cloth.
“Forget about my personal life too?!” I snap, and jerk sharply. The knot loosens, then the towel unravels and falls to my feet. I step over it and glare into his desire-darkened face.
“First, forget that you can argue with me,” he growls. He lunges and his hand clamps around my throat like a steel trap. He throws me onto the bed. Grabbing my hips, he flips me onto my stomach. The second towel slips off my head, and my heavy, wet hair spills across my bare back.
“Desire …” I squirm beneath his weight.
“Lift your ass,” he commands.
“Bastard!” I spit into the pillow but arch my back, lifting my hips to meet his. This submission feels like it’s already coded into my fucking DNA.
Why the fuck am I like this? Why do I deliberately tease him, knowing full well he’s a predator and will pounce immediately?
Why do I obey his every command without question?
I should tell him to go to hell! I should push him away before he does it first. Maybe he hasn’t fucked anyone but me since Africa, but that won’t last forever.
Like his Zeus, he’ll inevitably fuck other cunts. It’s only a matter of time.
When he pushes a finger inside me, I press my burning face into the pillow and whimper. A second later, he pulls it out and yanks off his pants.
“What, am I wet enough for His Royal Highness’s cock yet?” I rasp into the crumpled fabric.
Instead of an answer, the wide head of his cock pushes into me. I gasp, taking him fully. He doesn’t waste a second on tenderness. The sound of my ragged, heavy breathing fills the bedroom as he pounds into me relentlessly. I toss my hair out of my face.
“Marry me,” he growls.
I freeze. Or rather, I try to freeze, stunned by what I’ve heard, but he keeps thrusting into me mercilessly, shaking me.
“Aurora!”
“Is the joke over?” I exhale. “Can I laugh now?”
His cock slams into that perfect spot, and a long, drawn-out moan tears from my throat. He runs his nose along my neck, inhaling my scent, and sinks his teeth into my shoulder. His free hand slides forward, squeezing my right breast.
“There’s only one thing you’re allowed to do.” He yanks me up against him, his hot breath burning my ear. “Say yes. And for your own good, Princess, I suggest you hurry.”
Fuck. Is he serious? Does he really want to take me forever?
What do I want?
To feel his hands around my neck. To have him press me into him, sharing this insane craving that burns me up inside.
The realization of this truth blends with wild physical pleasure. The orgasm hits me so suddenly and powerfully that all my thoughts shatter, and all I can do is moan incoherently.