nine -Ares-
nine
-Ares-
I stop in the kitchen to drop the takeout, then go straight to the bedroom.
Deep down, I’m bracing for disaster, no matter what Mrs. Holloway said.
This is the quiet before the storm. Maybe the room’s gonna be turned upside down, maybe she’s even tried to run away by now.
I’m ready for that. Though I’m not ready for the peaceful, almost welcoming scene that greets me the second I open the door.
Brynn’s still in the armchair, tucked into a corner, her thick lips curved into a silent smile, eyes half-lidded like she just woke up from the sweetest dream.
Yet that’s not what really gets my attention.
It’s the damn shirt she’s wearing. My fucking shirt.
I don’t have a problem with her borrowing my clothes.
But I have a problem with her looking so damn delicious in them.
Especially now, when I’m doing my best not to let my dick get in the way of reason.
“You’ve barely eaten,” I mutter, seeing the plate Mrs. Holloway brought is almost untouched. “If this is some kind of—”
“I had a few bites,” she cuts me off before I can pick a fight. “So I could take a painkiller… and I think I just dozed off after that,” she continues, her voice matching her sleepy eyes.
“Your leg?” I ask, and suddenly it feels like I’m doing everything wrong. I promised myself I wouldn’t pay this much attention to her, yet here I am, only a few seconds after walking into the room, already worrying about her.
“I put a lot of… stress… on it yesterday. Now it’s fighting back,” she murmurs, slowly stretching out her legs, my shirt riding up over her hips.
“Well, you’ll be here for a while, so your leg will have a chance to rest,” I let out a dangerous smirk, intentionally trying to piss her off. Maybe if she snaps at me or says something stupid—and I know she eventually will—it’ll be easier to give her the cold shoulder.
I head into the bathroom to take a shower. I’m kind of a clean freak, and the five minutes I had this morning weren’t nearly enough. It’s not like the food’s going to get cold anyway.
I take my time, letting the hot water run over me as I try to clear my mind. It’s not the first day things were hectic at work, but at least I used to have some peace and quiet when I got home. I think that’s fucking over now…
Wrapping a towel around my waist, I step out of the shower, my body still tight from everything I’ve been through lately. Somehow, I have a feeling it’s gonna be a much longer night.
I need to get a pair of shorts on before dinner, so I return to the bedroom, trying to act much more unbothered by Brynn’s presence than I really am.
I’ve never been so conflicted before, it's like I still don’t know what to do about her.
The longer I take to decide, the longer I have to keep her around.
That only tips the balance in her favor.
And judging by the way she’s looking at me right now, she’s gonna mess up all my balance. Because fuck, I still don’t want to kill her, not even after what she did.
I pause for a second, against my will, and as soon as I realize it, I try to keep moving toward the dressing room. But it’s like my feet won’t budge as I see her lips part open, watching the water droplet roll down my chest.
She tries to say something, but no words fall from her lips.
For a moment, it’s like they’re lodged in her throat.
A soft, helpless sound escapes her as she clears it to speak, struggling to find her voice.
Color rises to her cheeks, and I notice the way her body betrays her, nipples hardening beneath my shirt.
“Something happen?” I ask, knowing all too well exactly what happened.
That’s the first mistake I make tonight. I shouldn’t have asked. I shouldn’t have snapped her out of it. Called her out on her too-obvious drooling over me.
“Not something that happened… but I’ve been thinking,” her hand goes to the back of her neck, rubbing it softly, then slowly slides over the shirt and down her breasts like she’s suddenly hot.
“What happened during the game when I was in the room with you… that… that was my worst nightmare,” she says, her fingers slipping inside her shirt, and I can clearly see them rolling over the ring in her nipple. Fucking shit.
“I never meant to hurt you…” she rolls it again, and my mouth goes dry.
“But I understand that I did,” she whispers, holding back a tear because she doesn’t have the strength to say it out loud.
Then her gaze stops at my waist, on the line where the towel wraps my body.
She swallows hard, like she’s just seen something she can’t resist while her hand drops to open a button on her shirt.
“I won’t try to change that. I will let you take your revenge on me,” she murmurs, almost out of breath.
“To give me your worst,” she opens another button, and the shirt falls off her shoulder, revealing the full weight of one of her breasts.
“I won’t even oppose it,” she ghosts, letting her hand drift lower, and I feel myself take a step toward her out of pure instinct.
“But please…” she goes on, lifting the hem of her shirt right until I can see she’s wearing no panties. “Please…” she trails off, and I swear it’s the sweetest word I’ve ever heard. Please.
She doesn’t even fucking know it, but it’s like some kind of magic spell she casts over me. And now I want more. I want to hear her begging. I want to hear her say please over and fucking over again.
“Help me find out the truth. Help me make them pay,” her hand that’s still cuffed to the radiator, opens, her index finger calling me toward her.
I don’t even know if it’s me or my damn dick that walks over there. Yet here I am, two seconds later, standing in front of her.
Her hand dips lower, and I feel myself stiffen. Blood rushing through my veins, my pulse out of this world as I watch her touch the place my fingers burn to feel beneath them.
I try to show no reaction, but I’m still betrayed by my all-too-eager cock.
This is the worst possible moment to be having this conversation, and she knows it.
She knows it, and she’s using it against me.
I’d really like to stand tall and still pretend to be the mighty Ares—the God of War, but right now my ego doesn’t fit into this scene. It’s been replaced with something else ever since I walked through the bathroom door—lust.
Her fingers are now slick with her juices, the faint sound they make as they touch skin makes my jaw clench.
To be honest, I don’t know how I still have the restraint not to rip her clothes off and fuck her raw.
Not that she has many clothes on, just my fucking shirt that I don’t even know if I want to destroy, or hang on a wall like a fucking trophy.
She leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, “Release me.” Her fingers gently tug at the cuffs, a subtle reminder—like I could ever forget she’s tied to the damn radiator.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen,” I mutter, not falling into her trap. She might try something, and I’m set on avoiding any incidents. Especially now. Especially when things are so fragile between us.
She smiles, like she was expecting that, then runs her fingers against her folds again, like she’s inviting me to sink inside her. And I don’t know what’s still keeping me on my feet instead of bent over that chair, hitting every one of her nerve endings.
Yet, here I am, still here in front of her, still standing… for now.
I do say for now because next thing I know, her fingers curl around my towel, eager to let it drop to the floor.
I take a deep breath, even if I don’t want it to be so obvious, but her touch strips away the last bit of clarity I have left. “You think this will help you get what you want?” I ask, still trying to fight it, like that’s even in the cards anymore.
“I think my battle is with someone else now. Not with you. Not with… this,” she trails off, letting a tired smile bloom on her lips while we lock eyes.
I don’t know if this is a declaration of peace, but I am the God of War, and she made sure she declared war a few weeks ago.
So, I’m the one who decides when this is over.
I let a low grunt echo through the room; the sound is supposed to call her out on her possible bullshit, yet instead, it makes her shift her focus. Her tongue runs across her full lips as she grabs the base of my shaft and I’m hard and thick between her fingers.
Fucking hell, I wish I weren’t so obvious.
But I can’t keep myself from reacting in her presence, and when she wraps those lips around me, this sinner’s found heaven. My knees all but buckle, joints weak, self-restraint even weaker as she starts working to get my last piercings inside her mouth.
Okay, I have to admit. Maybe some kind of forgiveness is in the cards.
Just as if she’s reading my mind again, she opens wider, my tip hitting the back of her throat while her fingers curl tightly around my sack.
Yep, forgiveness is definetly in the cards.
My body’s tight, moments from bursting into flames, already feeling like I’m combusting from the inside out.
I reel with every second, every swirl of her tongue, every bob of her head as she moves to drive pleasure beyond mortal limits.
I still don’t know how we got here, but I sure as fuck missed it, even if I was inside her less than a day ago. That fucking says something about me. About us. About this undeniable pull. I can’t let her go. Can’t kill her either. But I can sure make her pay.
I press harder, aiming for the back of her throat until her moans grow louder and the shaking in her limbs, all too obvious.