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)
That doesn’t make any sense, but there’s no space to think. He presses one finger and then two into me, a slow finger fuck as if he intends to go all night. Every curl drags his touch over my G-spot, coiling my pleasure tighter.
I love this moment during fucking. Every touch is perfect. My need is so large that my skin may split from it. Time ceases to have meaning. When I feel like this, it’s almost as if we could keep going forever. It feels like magic.
I’ve only ever experienced it with him.
Which isn’t to say I’ve never had good sex before. My first girlfriend after moving to the city was all frenzy in the bedroom and we could go for hours before exhaustion finally set in. That’s not what this is. From the very beginning, Perseus has set out with a terrifying intent to know my body. There’s no wasted movement, no fumbling around in enthusiasm. There’s only perfection.
He presses his thumb and ring finger to either side of my folds, creating pressure with each stroke, pressure he matches with his tongue. “Oh fuck.” I’m so close, I’m shaking, my body feeling like it belongs to someone else…like it belongs to him. “Perseus, please.”
He freezes. “Say it again.” The words are hot against my flesh. “Now.”
Three strokes and there’s nothing left of my resistance. My back bows, my orgasm cresting hard enough to hurt in the best way possible. “Perseus.”
“That’s right, Wife.” He doesn’t pick up his pace, but his tone has gone ragged in a way I’ve never heard before. “You come so perfectly.”
A second orgasm draws a scream from my lips. Or maybe it’s a continuation of the first. I don’t know. I can’t think. It’s glorious.
This time, when he moves up my body to settle between my thighs, there’s no breath left to tell him I hate him. I have no words at all—except one. “Perseus.” I wrap my legs around his hips, pulling him closer. “Perseus.”
His exhale is a fragile, trembling thing, but there’s no hesitation as he guides his cock into me. He’s never anything other than perfectly possessed. Tonight is no different. He moves into me slowly, thoroughly, using every bit of his knowledge with the clear intent to drive me to new peaks.
He fucks every thought out of my head, every worry, every fear. It will all be there in the morning, waiting to pounce the moment I open my eyes. But right now, in the dark, tasting myself on his lips, there’s nothing but us.
“There you go, Callisto.” He kisses my neck, wedges his arms beneath my body to hold me to him as if even the miniscule space between us is too much. I know better than to believe this to mean anything at all, but I’m too scattered by pleasure to remember why. I shatter into a million pieces again and again, and every time, he’s right there to gather each one and hold them safe in my moment of perfect weakness. “I’ve got you, Wife. I…” His strokes lose their steady rhythm.
Even this is somehow perfect, too. I hold him closer as he follows me over the edge, as he grinds into me, as he fills me. His heart pounds against his chest—against my chest where it presses to him—in the exact frantic rhythm as mine. I can’t think properly, but I make no effort to try as I cling to my husband. I’ve been adrift, will be adrift again, but in this moment, he’s the only solid thing that exists.
As if he’s in agreement, he holds me closer instead of moving away and presses a gentle kiss to my temple. “Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.”
What can wait until morning? I’m barely able to think. I don’t remember closing my eyes, but they feel fused shut. I nod slowly. “Okay. Until morning.”
He eases to the side, but only enough to settle on the mattress next to me. I refuse to feel grateful that he doesn’t go far…but I am. Especially when he pulls me into the cradle of his body and wraps his strong arms around me. My muscles and bones weigh a thousand pounds. Even if I wanted to, I can’t dredge up the effort to climb out of our bed and leave him.
I…don’t want to.
He kisses the nape of my neck. “Sleep, Wife. I’m here. You’re safe.”
Fool that I am, I actually believe him.
16
Zeus
My wife falls into a restless sleep within minutes. Unconsciousness eludes me, though. It often does these days. Sleep is a vital part of maintenance to ensure your brain works properly to anticipate your enemies and see the knives threatening before they have a chance to slide between your ribs. A contradiction to my father’s training to go without sleep, but my father was a study in contradictions. Once he was satisfied that I could function without sleep for the approved amount of time, he moved on. I didn’t. Insomnia became a fact of life, something to endure like I endured so many other little torments.