Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83786 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I know I’ve made a mistake the moment she tenses in response to my voice. Hera plants her hands on my chest. With her pants tangled around her ankles, there’s no smooth retreat. I have to duck under her legs, which is a fucking problem because it puts her pussy at face level, perfect and flushed with desire…and leaking my come.
My cock twitches, but a quick check of her face tells me she might pull her cute little switchblade if I keep touching her. It’s always like this with Hera: cold until I think I might die from it, but as soon as the lights go out, she burns me right up.
I reach out to help her off the table, but she knocks my hand away, her head ducked to avoid meeting my gaze. Alarm blares through me. This is wrong. She’s often furious after she comes, but never like this. Never brittle. I shove my cock back into my pants and give her some space. “Hera—”
“You’ve proven your point, Zeus.” She snaps my name hard enough that I flinch. “No matter what I do, I’ll never escape you.”
Her words hurt even more than the way she hurriedly pulls up her pants. I’m the worst kind of delusional to wish for a relationship that isn’t a constant fucking war. To wish for a spouse who wants me without restriction. To wish for…a lot of things. But this isn’t a normal part of our ongoing series of battles. She’s not attacking. She’s fleeing. And it scares the shit out of me. “You said yes.”
“I always say yes to you.” She finishes righting her clothing and wipes at her smudged lipstick. I can actually see her putting herself together, piece by piece. “Get that look off your face, Zeus. You didn’t force anything. I wanted it. I always want it, even if I loathe you all the more by the end.”
I hate that she sees right through me. I hate even more how I exhale in slow relief. “Then what’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” She scoffs. “Someday, you’ll get tired of humiliating me like this. Do you know how much I hate that I want you?”
“About as much as I hate wanting you.” Fuck, I didn’t mean to say that. It doesn’t matter how much I tell myself to keep control. She snipes at me, and I rise to the bait. Every. Single. Time.
All my stress and anger and, yeah, fear comes rushing back, eliminating the short escape we just fled to. I slide out from behind the booth and straighten my clothes. I can see the outline of Ixion’s broad shoulders through the window in the door, and it just pisses me off all the more. Is he her only lover? Or are all three of her precious guardians taking turns giving my wife the pleasure that she only reluctantly accepts from me?
I spin to face her. “Be home for dinner tonight.”
“But—”
“No fucking excuses.” I start for the door. I’m done playing her games and wondering what my wife is up to. “If you’re not there, then I’m going to hunt you down and I’ll fuck you wherever I find you—no matter who’s there to witness it.”
9
Hera
What am I doing? Zeus’s words ring through me like the clearest bell. Not just his words. His touch. His taste. The feel of him inside me. I should have said no the moment I realized where our argument was heading, but with fear riding me so hard, I let myself be selfish, let myself sink into the pleasure I find at his hands.
Even if he’s the enemy. Even if I have active plans to see him dead.
Instead, I just rode his cock in the middle of the damned bar. I just fucked my husband while my sisters’ and mother’s lives are in danger. I stand there, feeling more lost than I’ve ever felt, and watch him walk away from me. I should be grateful for the reprieve, but instead it’s one blow too many.
“I can’t do this.” I am calm, collected, and occasionally violent, but I have never let fear get the best of me. There’s always a way out. I just need to think, except I can’t even do that right. I’m barely showing other symptoms of my pregnancy, but it increasingly feels like my thoughts are wrapped in cotton.
My husband stops and looks at me, his strong brows pulling together. “Hera?”
“I can’t do this,” I say again, sharper. “What the fuck am I doing?” My voice gains a shrill edge, but I can’t stop it. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
Zeus crosses the distance between us in three large steps and catches my elbows. “Look at me.”
I don’t want to, but I’m helpless to do anything but open to the deep, soothing command in his voice. His blue eyes contain so much, and I can’t read any of it. I choke out an exhale. “I hate you.”