Chapter 24 #2
“You say that as if those were flaws,” she snapped. “He’s a good person. He’s committed to charity. He’s funny, and gentlehearted, and beloved by all who know him.”
Argos scoffed. “Forget that he’s a traitor.”
“You can’t stand it, can you?” She shook her head as she looked him up and down. “What did you think, that I would change my mind, decide to keep you after this was all over? That I would ever choose you over the perfect consort?”
His desire to be petty suddenly spiked. “I agree, he’s the perfect consort. That doesn’t mean you’ll marry him.”
He leaned closer, feeling her move toward him like a magnet as his lips nearly captured hers.
“And why not?” she breathed. He could hear a tinge of desire in her voice, smell her body, wet and ready for him.
He smirked. “Because you like it rough.”
Argos shoved her makeup out of the way, and Theora barely opened her mouth to yell at him before he grabbed her upper arms and sat her on the counter.
“You’re not leaving this room,” he growled. “That’s an order.”
“Take your hands off me,” Theora snapped.
Argos countered her with a warning growl. “Cease is the command, Theora. Or are you just pretending you forgot how to handle me because you get wet when I handle you?”
“How dare you,” she bit out, bringing her face closer to his. “You insubordinate, absolute abhorrent—”
His growl peaked, and he grabbed the hair at the back of her head all the way to her scalp, gripping it in his fist, tipping her head back to look at him. She let out a startled yelp, but it turned to a helpless whimper that belied her glare.
He wasn’t sure where the line had been crossed from genuine anger to sexually egging him on.
But she liked this, her scent of pleasure blooming with each frustrated pant.
As much as that first night, with the shower’s steam surrounding them.
When he’d spanked her on the train. Their tryst in the cave.
When he’d called her a good girl as he fought not to get hard with her on his lap…
He tugged at her hair again and her eyes fluttered closed briefly, surrendering whatever little control she had left.
“Have you calmed yet?” Argos growled. “Or am I going to have to punish you?”
“Punish me,” she breathed like a plea, reaching up to cradle his face.
The response shocked him a little, and for a moment he wasn’t sure what to say…All he knew was that he wanted, more than anything, to give her what she asked for.
“Cease,” he said, his voice a low growl.
To his gratification, she obeyed, her hands lowering. Her expression of desire was marred by uncertainty and shame, but her pants of anticipation came heavy and quick. Still, he made her wait.
She made a small sound, like she might protest, and he gently shushed her.
She quieted, trembling in his grasp. He did that twice more, until she finally caught on and stopped trying to speak every three seconds.
He could tell it was a struggle—she was so used to doing and saying whatever she pleased.
Slow to learn that sometimes in a partnership you didn’t get everything you wanted, when you wanted it.
That, for this beautiful queen who had the world at her whim, sometimes punishment was as simple as delayed gratification.
He lowered his face to hers, close enough to kiss her, and she moaned. He smirked—he could forgive her that one sound, clearly unintentional. Truer than any words she could’ve spoken.
“Good girl,” he praised gently, rewarding her with the kiss she so longed for.
She melted against him, letting out a sound so untethered, so raw, it made him shiver at its honesty.
She groped at him blindly, gripping any part of him she could to bring him closer, her hands desperate.
But he guided her kiss, deepening it as he grabbed her ass and dragged her closer.
She opened her legs as if on instinct alone, to welcome him.
We can’t do this again, his mind warned him, while his body ignored all sense and tore his wife’s lace panties away.
He wasn’t gentle, and she encouraged him. Desperate kisses, hands, breaths. Tearing her shirt, biting his ear…consuming each other slowly. So painfully slowly…
He kissed down her neck, her shoulder, down to her breast, taking her nipple into his mouth and caressing her engorged pussy. He pulled the most beautiful sounds from deep within her, from places that had never been touched.
She freed his erection, and one stroke from her hand forced him to pause, to regroup, to fight the erotic urge to sink his fangs into her.
Sovereign. He shouldn’t be doing this.
He reached down and stopped her hand from stroking him, wishing he had listened to his own counsel and stopped this before it got so far.
“Please…” she whimpered.
Even without the command words, her voice pulled at him like a compulsion. He moved her hand from where she stroked him, if only to clear his head. No matter how much he wanted her, he could not break ritual over what amounted to, at least on her end, an angry, irrational fuck.
It’s not too late to offer her a trophy…
No. It was clear there was nothing he could say, not even a proposal, that could convince Theora to let go of the idea of what she believed to be an ideal match…to take a chance on him.
So…he wouldn’t say anything.
He gripped her face, turning it to kiss her neck, feeling a shudder of desire run through her. “You want this?”
She tried to nod, but he held her too firmly, so she squeaked out, “Yes.”
He gripped her soft thigh and dragged her closer, and she caught herself on the counter just as he shoved her legs open farther. She let out a shocked sound of pleasure as he tasted her wet pussy, and as soon as he heard that sweet sound, something deep in his core was ignited.
He would never get enough of this woman.
Theora’s ecstasy was palpable in her trembling muscles as she cried out, rocking against his tongue, gripping his wrist in one hand and his hair in the other.
Her inhibitions were gone, compared to the way she’d fought him on the boat.
So natural, the way she melted against him, let go.
Let him love her the way she deserved to be loved.
He loved seeing her so eager. Free to behave and do as she wanted, instead of as the public thought she should.
And no one else got to see her like this. No one but him.
I want this woman. Forever.
She screamed his name, her muscles tightening as she peaked, before he left her breathless and trembling against the marble counter. Argos took it as his cue to keep going. He wouldn’t be satisfied with making her come only once.
He added his hand, his fingers exploring her, rediscovering all her most sensitive spots from when he’d pleased her on that ferry.
He pressed his thumb into the rim of her asshole, and she shouted a swear that bordered so close to disbelief it made him grin.
She came more quickly, then, harder, a third orgasm following as her nails dug into his hair.
“Cease,” she finally whimpered. “Give me a second…”
He kissed her thighs while he waited, while she watched.
She was dewy with sweat. So stunning it hurt.
Argos hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t make him stop for good, but for the moment he had to stand so his face wasn’t so close to her…
so his body wouldn’t give in to what he wanted, despite her command.
And yet his hand ran the length of her thigh, as if on instinct alone. He leaned his chin on her bent knee, watching her watch him.
“You taste so good,” he murmured, without a thought to stop it.
Theora was blushing so hard she could’ve softened butter. “Still like butterscotch?”
His fingers skimmed the wet lips of her pussy, and he saw when her breath caught, when she opened her thighs for him, the movement only stopped by her knee against the mirror on the wall.
“Better than butterscotch.”
She giggled, pausing to catch her breath. “Argos?” she panted.
“Hm?”
“What else can you do to me?”
A slow grin spread to his lips. And he threw her over his shoulder and carried her, laughing and kicking, into the bedroom.