twenty-four -Brynn-
twenty-four
-Brynn-
Ares drives us back home in silence, while my mind still races with plans for McAllister.
I can’t help but notice that his expression has changed from hunting mode to something else. Something even darker, primal. His gaze remains too focused on the roads he usually drives along without a care, and as we pull through the gates, he turns to look at me.
It’s then that I see it.
That animalistic expression of uncontrolled lust I’ve come to know so well. My body instantly reacts. There aren’t many things in this world that could make me feel small and helpless. But this is certainly one of them.
“Tonight,” he says, his voice way too soft to be anything good, “We finish your punishment for trying to kill me.”
My throat tightens, and my stomach drops before I get to formulate any coherent words.
“I thought we were past that,” I mutter, staring straight ahead as we park. The memory of my failed attempt to kill him feels like it belongs in another lifetime. Before I really knew the man sitting beside me today, and before I understood that Elias’s death wasn’t his doing.
He lets out a laugh that holds no amusement. It’s low and dangerous, reflecting the intentions he’s not trying to hide. “Past it? No, little curse. I’ve simply been… patient.” The way he says the word makes it sound like a threat.
But if he thinks we can get past it once and for all, I’ll do whatever he wants.
Because there’s something he’s been denying me for weeks, and I don’t want to wait any longer.
I’ve asked him to keep removing my scars, replacing them with his own marks, but he refused.
Somehow, that makes me feel like I don’t fully belong to him yet.
I still belong to my past, my nightmares owned by the ghost of the man who tortured me for two years.
I follow him into the house, my nerves humming with each step. For the past few weeks, we’ve been working together, training and planning how to get whoever it is that’s behind this, but the look in Ares’ eyes now reminds me of our beginning.
He takes me past the living area toward the door that leads to the basement. He opens it, then gestures toward the darkness below. “After you.”
I hesitate for a second, and his smile widens, showing too many teeth. “Afraid?”
“Fuck you,” I respond automatically, but my voice lacks conviction. Because somehow I feel that’s what I’m supposed to do.
I take the first step down, feeling the temperature drop with each descent. He follows close behind me, his attitude so imposing that it makes the passage feel even tighter.
I know this path all too well. There was a time when all I wanted was to get out of here. Not so much now. Now, I just want be anywhere he is.
Part of me even hates myself for fitting into that pattern. That way in over her head type of girl I swore to myself I’d never be.
We walk until we reach a door I am familiar with. Last time I was here, I stole a dust cover to carry the wine bottles to the stairs. Now that I think about it, smashing a couple of million wasn’t my best plan... but at least it worked.
Ares opens the door, and the first thing that draws my attention is the gold throne.
That and the life-size marble statue of him reclining on one elbow, atop stone carved pillows.
His expression as intense as the man who really owns it.
For some reason, Ares is staring at it like I’m supposed to get a point that I’m not getting.
He stops directly behind me, his breath hot against my naked shoulders as his lips suck and bite.
A shiver runs through my body, from my shoulders down to the tip of my toes as one of his hands wraps around my throat, pressing my back against his body, a reminder of his power and how he could end me if he chose.
I know this isn’t about him ending me. It’s about him owning me, establishing full dominance, and me allowing him to.
Not because I need him to help me with my revenge.
Just because I need him like a woman wants a man.
I can feel his chest rise and fall; his every breath synchronized with the rhythm of my own, although there are a few moments in which I think I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
My nipples harden beneath my dress, and my thighs squeeze together in a useless attempt to fight the ache that’s settled there. Damn, and he’s not even doing anything to me yet.
“Your punishment awaits,” he hisses like a snake in my ear. “I’ve been waiting a very long time for this.”
The anticipation in his voice makes everything that much more intense. I’m even suspecting it’s not even that much of a punishment as it is a sick kind of power-play.
I try to turn to face him, but his grip is tight enough that I can barely breathe. My face is pointed toward the marble statue. It’s cold perfection, and the very impressive cock, one-on-one to Ares’, along with the seven piercings.
Heat coils low in my belly, but it’s not fear. It’s a sort of forbidden curiosity that makes me hate myself even as it floods my veins.
Ares’ free hand slides down on my spine, coming to rest on my ass. “Tonight,” he promises more than just states. “You learn exactly what it means to be mine.”
I should say something. Maybe fight him back a little, if I had any dignity left. Instead, my own body betrays me, leaning into his touch harder than necessary. My mind still rebels at the thought of submission, but not even my heart agrees with my brain anymore.
“But I need to clear something up first. Erase it from your mind forever,” he says, and I’ve learned to recognize this is his very serious down-to-business voice.
“The night you were down here. When I fucked you on the stairs. You said another man’s name while I was inside you,” I can hear his breathing becoming shallow, like he’s doing his best not to make a scene of this, or seem overly jealous.
Still, considering that moment was over three weeks ago, I’m starting to think he kept this to himself for a while.
Maybe even struggled with the thought. “Who was he? And does he still live?”
I really want to mess with him right now, elaborate some complex story about the guy who lives at the other end of the world, just to watch him make his way there to end him.
But in reality, this is too funny. “You’re not really asking me this, are you?
” I can barely hold back my laughter. “You mean in the basement?” I ask, trying not to show him my amusement because this shit is too hilarious.
“Yes,” he grunts. “I couldn’t understand what you said. But I heard it. I heard a fucking name.”
“Why didn’t you ask me about it then?” I taunt, trying to prolong my entertainment and his suffering, obviously.
He lets out a low growl, “Because then… it wasn’t supposed to matter.”
I frown, even though I know he doesn’t see it. “And now it does?” I mutter, expecting some kind of apology for dismissing me like that. I’m always supposed to matter.
“If you don’t want to answer, it’s fine. I’ll get it out of you eventually.” His grip on my throat tightens, and I’m afraid he’s going to break my windpipe.
“Oh, you’re a cocky bastard.” I start laughing, but I am barely in a position to do that. “I’ve never thought someone would be jealous of Santa’s reindeer.” Okay, that sounded way more fucked up than it really is.
“Santa’s what?”
“Reindeer…I was counting them,” I continue laughing, as he releases the grip a little. Probably out of shock, or probably just so I won’t faint on him.
“You count reindeer when I fuck you?” The shock in his voice is priceless.
“Not exactly. Drop it before you get jealous of Vixen and ruin Christmas.” I laugh-cough against his hand.
“You have a reindeer kink?” I want to say he's repulsed, but I’m starting to think he’s actually intrigued. “I’ve seen a lot of things… this isn’t exactly my thing… but…”
“No buts. I don’t have a reindeer kink. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Is it a Christmas one? Do you want to wrap my cock in a red ribbon and…” he makes that low hum, and now that image will live in the corner of my mind rent free for the rest of my life. Problem is, I’m pretty convinced this isn’t even a bad thing.
“I can’t take you seriously right now…” I fuss against his grip. “You’re such a manchild.”
He pulls me tighter against him.
“God… god, manchild…I’m not the one bringing up Vixen while we’re having sex.”
I slump a little in his hold. I would walk away right now if he weren’t keeping me here. “I’ll never hear the end of this, will I?”
“Depends on what you’re bargaining…” he kisses the side of my neck, letting his free hand slide in front of my dress, right between my thighs, and squeezes it hard enough to make me moan.
The next moment, he moves to face me, and I can see the dark amusement reflecting in his eyes. The bastard knows exactly what he does to me, how he tears me between hatred and desire.
I have a feeling he’s only just beginning.
His lips find my neck again. The heat of his open mouth as he marks me, leaving signs that will still be there in the morning.
His tongue moves on my pulse point, teeth grazing skin, not enough to tear, but enough for me to feel it in every cell.
I tilt my head in a gesture of surrender that makes him growl against my throat.
He grips my shoulders, turning me to face him fully as his mouth works its way from my jugular to my jawline, like he needs to mark every inch as his own.
“You will take every single part of me tonight, like I’m taking every part of you now,” he murmurs in that rough manly voice that leaves me speechless. All I can do is swallow and wait for him to tear me apart and put me back together.
His mouth captures mine in a brutal kiss. Teeth and tongue and dominance as his hand tangles in my hair, angling me like I’m his damn puppet. Fuck, I just wish I didn’t love it so much.
I taste blood, but I can’t even tell if it’s mine or his. It doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. I just want more.
I don’t care what he’s planning. I want it all.