5. Athena
ATHENA
He’s inside me now, all the way, and there’s no part of me he isn’t touching.
My thighs tremble around his hips. His hand stays wrapped around my throat, thumb stroking the frantic pulse there, his mouth hovering just above mine while he waits for me to stop trying to catch my breath around the stretch.
There’s a weight to the atmosphere between us, a promise suspended in the inches of space he hasn’t filled yet.
“Good girl,” he murmurs again. “Now take me.”
I nod because language isn’t real anymore, there’s just the slide of his cock and the heat flushing up every nerve.
He pulls back so painstakingly slow it feels cruel, every inch of him dragging me open anew, then slams forward with controlled force that knocks the sound out of me.
“Fuck—Daddy—oh my god—”
“That’s right, say it,” he groans, grit wrapped around silk in his tone as he thrusts again, and again, each stroke carving me out deeper, flattening me with the depth of him.
My hands wrap around the back of his neck, my nails dragging through the short silver at his nape, and he growls against my mouth when I tug.
I feel the rumble in his lungs. I’m not even pretending I’m in control of anything—I’m just clinging to him while he works my body like it was always meant for his.
He finds that angle quickly, because of course he does—shifts his hips a fraction, tilts me by digging his fingers into my thigh, then he’s hitting the spot that makes my vision white out.
“Right there,” I gasp, voice breaking.
“Oh, I know,” he answers, white teeth flashing when he smirks down at me, sweaty hair falling against his brow.
He keeps drilling into me, deeper, steady, jaw clenching as the muscles in his forearms flex.
His free hand slides down my body, palm scorching along my breast, pinching the nipple just to hear me cry out.
He rubs his thumb in rough circles around it while he thrusts harder, his control cracking at the edges.
“You feel how I’m holding you open from inside?” he grits, breath hot against my mouth. “That’s how you were always meant to be filled.”
I whimper, nails digging crescent moons into his shoulders. My body answers him before my brain does, pulling him deeper, tighter, until he groans and thrusts harder, chasing the way I grip him.
“Squeeze Daddy,” he orders, and I do. I clench around him desperately and he swears, low and obscene. “That’s my girl. I can feel you fucking fluttering.”
He drags his thumb down over my lips, pushing between them. “Suck.”
I obey. My mouth wraps around his thumb, tongue running over his fingerprint, hollowing my cheeks for him. He hums, watching me while his hips start pounding in earnest, like he can’t decide which part of me he wants to conquer first.
“You’re wet everywhere,” he says, voice dissolving into guttural heat. “Mouth, pussy. Mine.”
He moves the thumb down, slick with spit now, and circles my clit while he pounds into me. My spine bows. My breath dies in my throat. His other hand is still at my neck, thumb on my jaw, forcing me to see how he’s wrecking me.
“Look,” he snarls, thrusting harder. “Look at what you begged for.”
I can barely hold his gaze. He’s so handsome it hurts. Silver hair damp with sweat, jawline sharp under stubble, pupils blown wide with feral heat, lips swollen from dragging against every inch of me. I’d cross any line to see him like this again.
“You know what happens next?” he asks, voice dropping into gravel. “I put you on your hands and knees, and I use you until Daddy’s satisfied.”
“Yes,” I manage, voice shaking. “God, yes.”
He bites the side of my neck in answer.
“Then say thank you.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” I gasp, because he’s absolutely ruining me, and it’s everything I’ve dreamed about.
He pulls out abruptly. My body keens at the sudden emptiness, all slick and clenching, but he just flips me like I weigh nothing, sets my knees on the edge of the cot, pushes my back down with a firm hand until I’m presenting, ass up, face pressed into his forearm. The shift is so fast I cry out.
“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” he groans, fingers spreading me, thumbs pressing into the backs of my slick thighs. “You hear that? That’s you begging to be fucked open.”
Then he’s sinking into me again from behind, and the angle is obscene. He fills me even deeper this way, hitting spots that make my eyes roll back. My mouth is pressed against the mattress to muffle the noises, but he reaches down and tugs me up by my hair.
“Don’t hide from me,” he warns, voice barely above a growl.
His thrusts turn brutal. I feel the slap of his hips against my ass, feel every inch of him battering my insides in perfect rhythm with the tight circles he’s drawing on my clit.
The stretch is almost too much. Every time he pulls back, I feel slick air rush in, then he’s slamming right into the wet heat, making me convulse.
“You hear how wet that is?” he murmurs, leaning down to drag his tongue along my shoulder blade, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my skin.
I bite down on my own knuckles to keep from wailing. He notices instantly.
“Move your hand.” When I obey, he presses his own broad palm over my mouth. “You want to hide the sounds? I’ll cover them.”
The pressure of his hand makes me feel owned—like he’s holding every part of me in place while he fucks me into focus.
“Hold it there,” he orders. “Keep those pretty lips parted.”
He rams into me harder. I see stars. My walls spasm around him in desperate pulses. His other hand drops to my hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.
“Daddy,” I choke out from under his hand. “Please—”
“Please what, baby?”
“Please—give me more—give me everything—”
He chuckles darkly. “You already have everything. A man. My cock. My attention.” His mouth crashes down on the side of my neck and he sucks a bruise so hard I cry out. “And you’ll thank me for every bit.”
His hand leaves my mouth, slides down to grip my throat again, and the pressure is immediate, perfect. Not choking—just control. He’s holding me upright with one hand around my neck, fucking me from behind with smooth, relentless thrusts, the skin of his chest slick against my back.
Every nerve is overloaded. Every muscle is trembling. His voice turns low, sin-slick and raw. “Give Daddy one more. Come for me while I’m still inside you.”
The command hits like lightning.
I splinter with a cry, legs shaking, back arching, nails scraping against the sheets. The orgasm rips through me hard and punishing. He keeps pounding right through it, groaning as I clamp down, dragging him deeper.
His cock surges inside me, thick and relentless, his rhythm a little frayed now too. I can tell he’s close—the curses starting to slip, the way his hips jerk, the grip on my throat tightening right at the edges of what I can bear.
“You gonna let me fill you?” he growls into my ear, every word a hot breath between us.
“Yes—God, yes.”
“You on the pill?” His voice breaks on the question.
“Yes, Daddy, I am,” I pant.
He releases a guttural sound and shoves in deep, fully seated. “Good girl.” He presses every inch of himself inside, holding me in place with his hand on my throat and the other gripping my hip possessively.
Then he comes. I feel it. The thick heat surging, the way his cock swells with each pulse as he shoots deep inside me, the low moan torn from his chest while he rides it out. He stays buried, hips locked, grinding through the release until the warmth floods me completely.
We stay like that—me bent over and shaking, him slumped over my back, both of us gasping while his cum slowly trickles out around him. He doesn’t move for a long moment, just catches his breath against my shoulder, the weight of him welcome and heavy.
Finally, he pulls out slow, tilting my hips upward so nothing spills. The sudden emptiness immediately makes me whine.
He swats my ass lightly.
“That was amazing,” he murmurs. His voice is hoarse, roughened by sex, but there’s softness threaded through it too. “You were amazing.”
I collapse onto the bed, panting, body buzzing from the overstimulation. He slides beside me, hand smoothing down my spine, and when I turn toward him, he pulls me into his chest like I belong there.
“That’s how a man fucks his girl,” Nathan says quietly, forehead resting against mine.
The room settles into a soft, deep silence. Nathan presses his forehead against the back of my shoulder. His hand slides slowly over my stomach again while his breathing gradually steadies. “Well,” he murmurs quietly.
I laugh weakly. “That was extremely unprofessional.”
The hospital is still there. I can hear it through the walls. Footsteps pass in the hallway outside the on-call room. Someone laughs somewhere down the corridor. A distant intercom crackles with a page for radiology, and yet, inside this room everything feels different.
Nathan’s hand moves slowly over my stomach, the touch almost absentminded while his fingers trace a small circle just above my hip. The gesture feels oddly intimate after everything that just happened, and it sends a wave of awareness through my chest.
I stare at the blank wall in front of the bed. My thoughts try and fail to assemble themselves into something sensible.
Nathan shifts behind me slightly, the movement careful while he pulls the thin sheet from the edge of the mattress and drapes it loosely over my body. The simple act feels strangely considerate, and the warmth of the fabric settles over my skin while his arm returns to my waist.
“You’re quiet,” he says.
“I’m thinking.”
“That’s not like you,” he jokes, one brow quirked at me.
I let out a soft laugh. “That’s rich coming from the man who just had sex with his son’s girlfriend in a hospital on call room.”
His eyes darken. “Former girlfriend.”
I blush. “I—”
“I would feel terrible about it,” he tells me. “If I didn’t know what you deserve, Athena. If I didn’t know how he’s treated you in the past.”
My heart aches immediately and I can’t find words, so I give him a small nod and twist just enough to look at him. His hair is slightly disheveled from my fingers. There’s a faint mark on the side of his neck that I definitely did not put there gently.
The sight makes something warm move through my chest.
“This is insane,” I say quietly.
“Probably,” he agrees. Slowly, he shifts closer behind me again, his arm tightening slightly around my middle while his mouth moves near my ear. The warmth of his breath brushes my skin.
“This can’t be the last time,” Nathan murmurs, his voice rough.
The quiet certainty in the statement sends a small shock through my chest.
I close my eyes briefly. Part of me wants to argue.
Another part knows he’s right.
Something fundamental shifted the moment his mouth touched mine in this room, and no amount of common sense is going to erase the memory of how easily my body responded to him.
I crossed a line, and now the world on the other side of it looks very different.
Nathan’s hand slides slowly up my side again, the touch light but unmistakably possessive. The contact sends a small shiver through my body even now, and the realization makes my chest tighten.
“I should regret this,” I whisper.
“Do you?”
I think about the way his hands felt on my body. The way his voice sounded when he said my name. The way my thoughts disappeared the moment he kissed me. The way he made me come.
I shake my head. “No.”
Nathan’s arm tightens slightly around my waist again. “Good.”