Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95187 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
He doesn’t move, not until I drag my eyes open. Only then does he grin and press my legs down until my hips groan in protest. “Good boy. Now, here’s your final command. Don’t come until I do.”
21
Icarus
I want to blame the strength of this pleasure on the fact I haven’t slept with anyone in a long time. I want to pretend that anyone would have me panting with need. I’m a fucking liar. It’s not just anyone splayed out beneath me, their ass clenching so tightly around my cock I think I might die.
It’s Poseidon.
It’s his face gone flush and lust-drunk with what I’m doing to him, his giant cock bouncing against his stomach with every thrust of my hips, his freckles still driving me to fucking distraction.
Too much. It’s too much to hold out. Not blowing my load before this is a godsdamned miracle.
I tighten my grip on his thighs and drive harder into his ass. Once, twice, a third time. On the fourth, I lose it. I grind into him, coming so hard, my vision flickers. Pleasure threatens to make me boneless, all the feel-good chemicals in my brain inspiring me to start spouting unforgivable words.
This is the exact feeling I’ve historically used to my benefit, teasing out secrets bed partners would never dare share if not essentially drugged on lust. I’ve just never felt it myself. Not on this level.
Now is the moment. I should roll off him, clean us both up, and cuddle just enough to get him through the crash after a scene. But I look down and the sight of his still-hard cock catches my attention. It makes my cock twitch.
Poseidon jerks. “No more,” he moans.
“You should know better, big guy.” I ease out of him and guide his thighs down, going slow in case any muscles spasm. “You practically threw a gauntlet at my feet.”
“Icarus.” His eyes are half-closed, as if he doesn’t have the energy to open them. “I can’t.”
“You have thirty seconds to rest.” I can’t stop my grin at the way he moans and writhes, his legs coming up as if he can hide his cock from me. He’s so big, so fearsome, so fucking powerful, and in this moment he’s mine. It doesn’t mean anything—it can’t—but the knowledge has me feeling like I’m walking on air as I make my way to the bathroom and dispose of the condom. I take a few minutes to clean up, to glance at myself in the mirror.
The same face I’ve had since my body settled into adulthood. When I was young, I used to stare at mirrors and search my features for evidence of my father, of the strength he craved so intensely. Even when I was sure I found it in the line of my jaw, the curve of my eyes, it was never enough for him. I was never enough for him.
I turn away. He’s dead and gone. There will be no reconciliation, no finally gaining his approval. It’s beyond my reach forever.
Back in the bedroom, Poseidon is still curled on his side. I climb onto the bed and arrange myself at his back. I kiss the base of his neck. “Are you done?”
He stirs. “Are you?”
“That’s not what I asked you.” I could start stroking him, to weigh the scale in my favor. I don’t. I simply wait.
He’s silent for what feels like a very long time but probably isn’t more than ten seconds. “I’m done when you say I’m done.”
My heart swells in a really worrisome way in response to his words. He’s given me his trust. I don’t deserve it. There’s only one person in this world who I’ll never betray, and she sailed off to a happy future because of my sacrifice. I did more for my sister in staying behind than I could ever do at her side. At least this way I won’t have another opportunity to disappoint her.
I only became aware of Poseidon a few months ago, and I’ve only begun to know him the last few days. He can’t trust me. He shouldn’t. At this point, I’m only out for myself, which means I’ll turn on him and the city he loves so much the first chance I get.
I press my forehead to his back and hiss out a breath. “How are you so fucking perfect?” I don’t give him a chance to answer before I have him on his back and his cock in my mouth. The saltiness of his pre-come has me moaning around his length. One last orgasm. We can both survive that.
Before, I gave him frenzy. I gave him pain. Now, there’s only softness and pleasure so acute, he’s gasping and cursing under his breath. I apply all my hard-won skills to make Poseidon come apart at the seams. Teasing, licking, nibbling, losing myself in the way my jaw starts to ache, in the sensation of his cock bumping the back of my throat.