7. Chapter 7 #2
“Jesus, that mouth,” he growled, throwing his head back as I sucked on his fingers, loving how his fingertips dug into my mouth.
Myth pulled his fingers out, holding my jaw in his hand tight, and forcing me to look up at him.
“Adrian–”
He silenced me again by putting his hand on my mouth. “Stop talking, unless you’re using that mouth to suck my cock or scream my name, I don’t want to hear it.”
Oh sweet lord in heaven, my pussy throbbed. Actually throbbed at his dirty mouth. Beck would never.
Why the hell was I comparing safe, sweet Beck with my filthy-mouthed cheater of a husband? Ex-husband…he was my ex.
With one move, Myth had me on my stomach, my hands splayed out on either side of me. My legs trembled as I tried to get up.
“On your knees, Rox.”
His command only had my legs tremble more. I gasped out what I hoped was a no, but I knew it was anything but. I had always been weak for him, and now was no different, when my body felt like jelly.
Myth’s strong hand moved to my tummy and lifted as if I weighed nothing. I was hefted up to my knees, my hands moving to the pillows to keep steady. I heard Myth undo his belt, and whip his cock out of his jeans.
I had to stop this.
I tried to back up, but he slid over my back, his chest on my shoulders, his mouth on my neck. My body trembled under his touch.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growled in my ear, his teeth scraping over my earlobe. “I’m nowhere near done with you, kitten.”
My thighs shook, my pussy throbbed, as he pulled my hands up to the headboard and tied his belt around them, before fastening it to the spire in the middle of the headboard.
Oh fuck.
The leather cut into my wrists as I tried to move, but he’d fastened me tight enough I was caught. I wanted to scream, but no air came out, as I felt him undress behind me.
“I’ve been aching for you since the funeral, baby, since I saw you there all vulnerable and wasn’t able to touch you, so I know this first time ain’t gonna be as long as I want it…but I’ll make it up to you.”
First time?
It’s like the words didn’t make sense in my head as I got swept up in my emotions just as I felt his hands on my hips, smoothing over my ass.
“Jesus, baby, this ass is perfect,” he grunted, his hand moving over both cheeks, almost reverently.
Smack!
I jolted at the whack to my ass, the slight sting from the tap had my pussy clenching hard. God, yes.
“Fuck, look at you tied up in my bed, on display. This dripping pussy, all for me.”
Before I could reply, his mouth was on my pussy again, from behind, his nose rubbing in between my folds, as his tongue sought out my clit.
Fuck…not again.
I was so close, already, my clit overstimulated as I bucked against his mouth, my breath coming out in short, steady bursts as I fought for air while my body was going through the torment of its life. My pussy was begging to be fucked, even though my head was screaming to put a stop to this.
Would he listen?
Would he stop if I told him no?
Pulling at my binds, I tried to free myself, to push him away, but the belt held strong, as his fingers moved through my folds replacing his tongue as he moved his mouth to my core and stabbed into me.
The second his thumb rolled over my clit, I exploded. My screams loud as he fucked his fingers into me, the sound was obscene with how wet I was. Shuddering, I could barely hold myself up before I felt Myth untie my wrists and lay me on my back.
From this angle, I could see his cock, that cock I knew so fucking well, red and angry and weeping for me.
For me.
“You’re so swollen and pink,” Myth said, his tongue licking over his lips, his eyes looking over my sensitive crotch as if it were the prettiest thing he’d ever seen.
Sweat covered us both, shining in the dim light of the room. Myth was a god, the stuff of legends, just like his name attested to. I knew that wasn’t why he was named that, but it was true in all aspects.
I hadn’t complained enough, I thought as images of Beck filtered through my mind.
He loved me. He had given me a stable life in London.
A life I would need to return to as soon as Myth tired of me.
Then the fights would start. As much as I wanted Myth to be mine, to make me come over and over again, mark me in every way. I couldn’t do that to myself.
“Adrian…stop.”
Myth hesitated, his eyes moving up to mine, and a flash of something I couldn’t read stole over his expression.
He stayed there, my thighs on either side of his hips, up in the air, my back pushing into the pillows beneath me.
From this angle, he’d be able to reach every part of me.
It had always been his favourite to watch as I came undone underneath him.
Just as soon as his expression had changed, it switched back to the man it had been before. The beast.
“No.”
With that, he pushed his cock into me in one thrust, bottoming out as I screamed around the intrusion. My pussy clenched around him hard, his grunt the only sound that told me I affected him as much as he affected me.
I cried out, tears running down the sides of my cheeks at the pure animal heat coming off the both of us. My body yearned for his, and the way he was looking down into my eyes, I could tell he felt the same.
Drawn to each other, but with that added fear of losing each other because we couldn’t handle what it meant. A primal, raw and ancient connection that we were too stupid to understand and cultivate.
Myth set a frantic pace, his fingers digging into my hips as he pumped into me, hard, fast, punishing.
His fingers kept slipping on my hips from the sweat, but with every grab, he pinched his fingertips deeper.
I was going to bruise, I just knew it, but right now as my pussy fluttered around him, I couldn’t seem to care less.
“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good.”
I could barely see him through the tears gathering in my eyes, but right as my orgasm stole over me, I cried out, feeling lightheaded just as he roared, his cock spurting into me.
Shit.
No.
Myth fell next to me. I lay there, my eyes leaking tears silently, but not for my ruined relationship. For the way he made me feel…the way I felt right even with all my insecurities about my weight, my appearance. He’d looked at me like I was perfect and that had done something inside of me.
I shouldn’t trust him, and yet I did.
I shouldn’t want him, and yet, despite spurting my hatred for him, I know I did. I still loved the asshole, and I knew I always would.
Our breathing, the only sound in the room, was returning to normal. My body, lethargic and sore, was letting me move. I made a move to sit up, but Myth rolled onto his side and pushed me back down, his hand on my jaw, squeezing.
“Where are you going?”
“You had your fun, Adrian. Let me go.”
“You didn’t think we were done, did you?” he asked, a slow smirk to rival the Cheshire cat appearing on his face. “Oh baby, if only you knew what I have in store for you tonight. After all, I’ve got fifteen years to make up for.”
His mouth was on mine then, claiming me in a way I couldn’t deny.
I was in so much trouble.