Chapter 8
ATHENA
My whole life I was a good girl. I obeyed my mother, did what she asked of me, and never complained when things got bad. Today, I want to break free of these things. Christopher makes me feel powerful and special, and I want to be his.
I want to be bad for him. For the first time in my life, I want to be a bad girl.
When I circle my hips over his hard length, his eyes darken, eyelids drooping with heat.
God, I want him. I want him so bad. Running my hands over his shoulders, I scrape the nape of his neck with the tips of my nails until a deep sound of pleasure starts deep within him.
I like this. I like making him feel good.
And this is only the beginning.
Christopher buries a hand in my hair, his fingers curling around the strands and tugging my head back. I let out a whimper as his lips hover over mine, his other hand closing around my jaw in a possessive grip.
“Shit, baby girl,” he roars. He positively roars. I didn’t even know people could do that. “These sounds you make will drive me mad one day.”
“What sounds?” I ask, batting my lashes, trying my best to be coy even as my panties grow slick.
Christopher stamps his lips on mine in a hard kiss.
I moan when his tongue teases at the seam of my mouth.
“These sounds,” he murmurs, before coaxing my lips open and devouring me.
Every sweep of his tongue brings out new, bright pleasure, a hot thing coiling between my thighs.
I kiss him back, my eyelids fluttering shut as my nerves buzz everywhere he touches me.
My heart races in my chest, doubt rearing its ugly head.
Can I do it with him? Won’t he hate it? I have no experience and I don’t know how to please a man.
What is going to happen when he takes off my clothes?
What if he hates what he sees? I’m a big girl, with rolls on my stomach and thick thighs that are usually hidden by my clothes.
What if he sees the scars on my arms and feels repulsion?
I chew on my bottom lip. God, I just told him I love him. He wouldn’t leave because of the scars, would he?
Christopher’s hold on my jaw eases up, his thumb stroking along the bottom of my lip. “Love,” he calls, forcing me to meet his gaze. “If you don’t want to take this further, we can stop. At any moment.”
I tilt my head. “Promise you won’t run away when you see me naked?”
His face transforms. Christopher’s brows rise on his forehead, and I see the shock, the confusion, and then utter amusement crosses his features.
A smile stretches his lips. “You’re joking.
” I shake my head. Christopher lets out a chuckle.
“Athena. I promise. I definitely won’t run away when I see you naked. ”
“You’re saying that now because you haven’t seen me yet.”
He holds me closer. “And you think that way because you never had someone tell you you’re perfect. You’re fucking perfect, Athena. I love you the way you are. Fuck what the others think, and fuck what the others told you. This is about you and me.”
His words hit me hard. My eyes sting with tears for a moment, but I blink them away. It would be a weird first time if I were crying, so I put a smile on my face and peck him on the lips. “Okay.”
“Okay? Can I go back to kissing these delicious lips of yours?”
I nod and Christopher ends the space between us.
My heart swells with confidence now, with love.
He wants me; he truly wants me. I know he won’t run away, no matter what happens.
Christopher’s tongue dances with mine, sweeping over and circling, exploring and tasting.
I cling to his shoulders, his kisses setting me on fire.
He touches my knee, and his fingers stroke their way up to the apex of my thighs.
Shivering, I feel my nipples tighten against my bra.
Christopher bites onto my bottom lip as his fingers trace lazy circles around my covered core.
Then I remember I’m supposed to be the bad girl. I bite down on his lip until he grunts, then slip down his lap until I kneel between his legs. He watches me with pinched brows as I undo his belt and zip his pants down with trembling fingers.
Christopher brushes my hair off my shoulder. “What are you doing, baby girl?”
I tug his pants open, then gape at the hard length in his boxers. It twitches under my scrutiny. Can I even put it in my mouth? Isn’t it too big? “I—I want to please you,” I say, cheeks growing hot as I glance up at him.
Christopher groans again, then buries his hand in my hair. “Just a little. I won’t take that pretty head of yours bobbing on my lap for long, and we have much to do.”
I frown, trying to understand what that means, but Christopher fishes his member from his boxers and lets it bump me in the cheek. Wow, it’s big. Really big, thick, and veiny, and definitely not fitting in my mouth. I lick my lips and part them, reaching out to curl my fingers around the base.
But if I thought I was going to do the work, I was so wrong.
Christopher tightens the hold on my hair and the moment my lips wrap around his cock, he moves my head up and down.
His fat member takes my mouth completely even when I relax my jaw.
And I’m not even halfway there! Lapping with my tongue at the underside, I seal my lips and let him take the lead.
Saliva drips past my lips to his shaft, and for some reason, I like it when he uses me.
I like it when he takes control of my pleasure.
My eyes roll to the back of my head and I press my thighs together.
The bitter taste of him on my tongue makes me see stars.
Tiny fireworks start between my legs, just from sucking him.
Christopher pulls me back, his member popping from between my lips. I look up at him, fear clutching at my heart. “Did I do something wrong?” I ask.
“Fuck, no,” he says, and his voice has become even rougher than usual. He plucks me from the ground and lies me down on the mattress, then makes quick work of getting rid of his clothes. “I told you I couldn’t take long. Shit, I have to take you, Athena.”
Christopher’s motions are jagged and rushed as he pulls my pants down, then tugs my blouse over my head.
He kisses me, and my mind swims with the intensity of it all.
He kneels in front of me, giving me a full view of his barrel chest, hard stomach, his twitching member.
A bead of precome glistens on the slit, and I clamp my lips together to stop myself from licking it.
My bra comes off. Heat spreads over my face and I press my arms over my breasts, self-conscious of my nakedness. Christopher’s eyes meet mine, then he glances down at me, and his face goes hard. Like stone. Like marble. I follow his line of sight and see them.
The scars on my arm, the dozens of small, brown circles dotted all over the inside of my right arm. I had almost forgotten about them. Christopher clutches my wrist and pulls my arm so he can look at them.
“Who did this?” he asks in a low, threatening tone, so different from anything I've ever heard.
My throat clenches. “You know who,” I whisper.
He shakes his head. “No.” His eyes lock with mine. “God, Athena. Did your mother do this to you? I knew she was a bitch, but this... This is fucking torture.”
I look away, tears making my vision blurry. “She used to smoke and when she got really disappointed with things, she’d take it out on me. But she’s stopped. She stopped when I moved out.”
His brows drop into a glare. “She didn’t stop; you just put physical distance between the two of you. This woman is a fucking monster, Athena.”
“I know,” I whisper, pulling my arm back. “But I want to move on. I want to make my name and pretend I don’t even know her.”
Christopher stares into my eyes for a minute, then bends and kisses the scars on my arm. The gesture is so soft it makes me gasp. “Whatever you want to do, I’ll respect it. I’ll be by your side, no matter what you choose.”
Throwing my arms around his neck, I pull him into a kiss. He makes me feel so special, so hot with his hands on my hips, exploring my thighs, that I forget about the problems and the pain. Christopher lights me up with every kiss.
That’s what it feels like to be loved.
Once I’m panting with need again, he breaks the kiss to explore the rest of my body.
His fingers flick my nipples, and he kisses down my stomach until he stops between my legs.
There, he takes one look at my pussy and growls.
I part my lips to ask him about it, but Christopher latches onto my clit as if his life depended on it.
I jerk out of the bed, too sensitive, but he doesn’t let me move.
His hands pin me down as he laps up at me, sucks on me, and takes me higher.
“Oh, God,” I breathe out, and Christopher sits back, fisting his cock in a hand. I clamp my knees together automatically.
He moves his hand up and down. “Spread your legs and show me what’s mine,” he roars, and every nerve ending in me burns for him.
I do as he tells me, trembling with lust. “Good. You look so fucking delicious. I can’t wait to have this tight cunt around me.
” He locks eyes with me, his orbs bright as if they were lit from the inside.
“You can’t come until I tell you so. Got it, baby girl? ”
“Okay,” I whisper, my voice too weak to do anything else. I land my hands on his pecs as he adjusts against me, angling his cockhead with my entrance.
He pumps once. My breath catches. His hands grip my knees, keeping them apart, and he pumps again.
His head enters me an inch, immense pressure making me slam my eyes shut.
Christopher flicks my clit and plays with it the way he knows I like it until I relax against him.
I move my hips, my head dropping back in pleasure.
Even with the pressure between my legs, an orgasm grows inside me, threatening to take over.
“Remember,” he grunts, “only when I let you.”
I nod, not sure I’ll make it. Christopher slides another inch, and I’m about to go, but he pulls his hand back.
I snap my eyes open, glaring at him. He only chuckles.
His fat member enters me inch by inch, a slow but delicious ride as Christopher lets me take my time to adjust. And he teases me.
He teases me so damn much. Flicking my clit, massaging it, then stopping once he sees I’m about to go.
Once he’s hilt-deep inside me, he starts to move. Every pound takes me closer, even when he’s not touching me. I frown hard, grinding my teeth together to keep myself at bay.
“Please,” I say between clenched teeth. “Please, please.”
“You want to come, baby girl?”
“I need to, please.”
He leans forward, entering me even deeper, and every sharp thrust of his hips makes me shudder and tremble, my entire body focused on stopping the orgasm. Christopher reaches between us and rubs my clit, fast, hard, then whispers into my ear, “Come for me, baby girl.”
It’s like my body obeys him. It’s not a conscious decision; it only does.
My orgasm shatters over me, white lights popping in the back of my eyelids, the roar of my heart in my ears.
Pleasure like nothing I’ve experienced takes me, chokes me.
And I keep going. Christopher stops touching my sensitive clit, but he grips my thighs and spreads me open for his viewing pleasure, and I keep going.
Every thrust is a new climax, and they all join into a huge, unending wave of bliss.
Tears race down the sides of my face; I rake my nails down his chest, clinging to the sheets, and snap my head from side to side.
I’m a possessed woman, enveloped in more pleasure than I’ve ever thought possible.
“Good girl,” he whispers into my ear, his body taking me over yet another edge. “Good girl. Keep coming for me.”
My inner walls clamp down around his length and Christopher’s body tenses against mine.
He roars into my shoulder, then he comes apart.
Hot, thick spurts spray into me, and I lock my knees around his hips, wanting him to stay here.
To stay with me. He hugs me, his arms covered in goosebumps as he kisses my face.
“Stay,” I whisper, hoping this won’t end so soon.
Christopher flips me sideways, his hand searching for that sweet spot between my legs. “Don’t worry, my love,” he says against my shoulder. “I will never leave.”