five -Ares- #2
It's just that sometimes it’s worth paying that price.
I drive my fingers deeper, letting her heat wrap around my skin, feeling her this close, like I’ve dreamt of for weeks.
I’m still fighting with myself to stop, though deep down, I know I have no real chance of winning.
It’s only prolonging the agony, and I just decided I’ve suffered enough.
It’s time to reclaim the only part of my life I still have control of. That’s taking and giving pleasure.
I let her down slowly, just enough so her wound won’t reopen from the effort of standing, but enough to still keep her on the edge.
With every movement of my hand, I’m drawn deeper in this, watching the same fight reflecting in her eyes as her body betrays whatever thoughts are running through her mind.
I don’t stop. I take and take, everything—every single breath, every bit back moan, every whimper she’s fighting so hard to hide.
The room fills with the sound of my palm slapping against her wet cunt.
So primal, so conflicting, so out of line that it’s perfect.
Her wide eyes slowly close as the pleasure sinks in, my fingers still larger than usual, forcing an orgasm out of her with every thrust. She doesn’t wait to deliver.
Her curled lips part into a perfect oh. Her fingers digging into my chest, as she loses herself to the sensations ripping through her.
Barely standing, barely even holding on to life, I feel her weight shifting against my hand like I’m gonna ruin her if I keep her here any longer. Only I’m not done with her. Maybe ruining her is exactly what I’m planning to do.
Her hand moves to my pants, hoping to give me the same release, probably even hoping I’d back down.
I’ll get my release tonight. I don’t doubt that even for a second. Just not yet.
Catching her wrist, I spin her dragging her hands behind her back, her face pressed on the brick wall now as her spread thighs brush against my cock.
A curse slips through my mind, but I’m doing my best to keep my pants on.
I drive my fingers back inside her from the front, my thumb resting on her clit.
She protests, with almost no real power as I enter her tight channel again, my fingers grinding against her walls, stronger, meticulously, with a precision that will leave her shaking again and again and a-fucking-gain.
“Ares,” she murmurs, pleading for something. That something isn’t stop. She’s pleading for me to ruin her, to do whatever the fuck I want before the spell breaks and we become enemies again.
“Louder. I want to hear you beg for me, Little Curse.” I whisper, fisting her hair as I press her head against the wall, her eyes closing in surrender. But she doesn’t answer, like she’s holding onto the last scraps of dignity, or maybe pride.
I can’t have that. I’ll make her answer, make her beg, make her plead.
My thumb circles her swollen clit, fingers curving inside until they find the spot that makes her knees buckle. She hisses, half from the pain of standing, half from the pleasure, grinding her teeth to resist another orgasm.
That’s not my purpose. I don’t want her to resist me. I want her to fucking break by my hands.
“Still no answer…” I grunt, letting go of her hair and moving my hand to cup her breasts, while my nose buries into the crook of her neck, inhaling her sweet scent. “We’ll go straight to screaming then,” I whisper, not a threat, but the reality of what’s to come.
I start moving my hand faster and faster inside her while my teeth sink in her neck stopping just shy of breaking skin.
I roll her pink nipple between my fingers. I’m not gentle. She’s not the kind to go for gentle. Besides, I just promised her she will scream. Her body tightens, wrapping around my fingers like her sole aim is to break them.
Even if she doesn’t realize it yet, I’m fully supporting her full weight, her body light as a feather in my arms. Her palms grab the wall like she’s trying to hold onto something. As another orgasm rips through her.
“Ares,” she mutters, the sound more a warning than a plea.
That doesn’t cut it for me. So, I go on until her breath becomes chaotic, her hands abandon the wall, and her fingernails sink into my arms. The pain so sweet that I can barely keep my own needs at bay. Her moans build in a crescendo, one after another, as wave after wave tears her apart.
Just when she probably thinks she can’t take any more, I withdraw my fingers and slap her tight cunt.
She freezes, as if everything stops around her, but my hand rushes to ease the pain and turn it into something completely different.
Just as soon as she finds comfort, I do it again, a huff of exasperation, abandoning her lips.
She should know better. I wasn’t going to give up that easily without an admission of how badly she still wants me, of how fully I still own her. Because no matter how hard her betrayal hurt, there’s still a part of me that longs to know she’s mine.
Even gods have weaknesses, and she’s my greatest one. In the same way, I’ll make sure to become her greatest weakness. “Let’s see how hard you can squirt for me, my little curse,” I whisper against her ear, pinching her clit, my fingers still pounding inside of her.
It's then I hear it—a few moans, loud enough to shake the brick walls, her body almost collapsing on the floor as her juices run down my knuckles.
I catch her right before she hurts herself, and, of course, there’s no thank you in return, just a few curses as she gathers what strength she has to stand on her own.
I love it when she’s feisty, especially as I know she’s barely functioning at the moment.
This woman’s strength never ceases to surprise me, and neither does the way she pushes me back like she needs space for a second.
Not something I can allow right now. Not something I’m sure I ever want to allow.
She rises to her feet, her whole body trembling like she’s moments away from going into shock. But then her gaze hardens, eyes burning with anger, “I won’t let you have this power over me,” she spits back, and I can’t help but laugh at the irony.
“Well, I didn’t see things that way a second ago when you squirted all over my fingers.” I raise my two digits, just in case she forgot what just happened.
She turns and heads for the stairs, as if I ever gave her fucking permission to leave.
I let her take a few steps so she can think, for a moment, that she’s free. That I might be that weak.
I’m not.
I catch her arm before she can climb the first step.
She fights me, trying to pull free, but ends up slipping and landing on her ass a few steps up.
I have to give her credit, she’s got more determination than any other woman I’ve ever met.
Unfortunately for her, it’s me she has to deal with.
And I don’t do failure. I’ve failed myself enough by letting her live after she tried to end me.
“Hmmm…” I growl, the darkness still refusing to subside. “A: You’re not going anywhere. For a very long time,” I say, kneeling on one step while making room between her legs. “B: I’m not done with you.” I lean over her, my body towering over hers, our lips inches apart.
I stay there for a few seconds, letting the confusion in her mind clear itself and allowing desire to overcome ambition.
She looks at me, like she just came face-to-face with a wrecking truth.
The chemistry between us, that magnetism, that whatever-the-fuck-it-is, is louder than reason, louder than anything before.
“Take…” I pause, breathing deep, trying one last time to revert to a more human size so I won’t hurt her, considering she’s already hurt.
Though it’s useless. It's just time I stop fighting. “Take what you really want,” I command, my gaze burns into hers like a fucking comet, consumed with an unearthly need to have her, while I’m still asking myself what the fuck am I doing?