I could get free if I wanted. That’s not what this is about. I choose submission time and time again, but it’s different with Ursa. She’s not holding me down. She’s anchoring me. Keeping me tethered to this place, this moment, as she rides my cock in agonizingly slow strokes. Letting me feel every inch of her, reminding me that every inch of me belongs to her.
Time ceases to have meaning. Every nerve in my body is focused on the tight squeeze of her pussy, on the even tighter grip she keeps on my wrists, on the slow slide of her skin against mine. A preview to the moment when we can have this any time we want, when it doesn’t require a set schedule approved by Hades and his people.
I dig my heels into the carpet, fighting not to thrust up into her. “I’m close,” I grind out.
“Come for me, lover.”
At her low command, I stop fighting the pleasure coursing through me. One stroke. Two. On the third, I curse and orgasm, driving up into her and emptying myself. She leans down, pressing her breasts to my chest, and kisses me. “Good boy.”
It takes a few moments to drift down from coming, but she eventually climbs off me and we both end up on the bed, Ursa tucked against my side. It’s a token of how far we’ve come that she allows this. When we first used to scene, she would get dressed and wrap me up in a blanket, only holding me until I was steady enough to leave. Now, the aftercare lasts almost as long as the scene does.
I lay there for a long time as she traces patterns on my chest with her nails. Gentle. So fucking gentle when she wants to be. It doesn’t make her any less devastating.
I should keep silent, but I can’t quite manage it. “She’s actually going through with it?”
Ursa smiles. “Of course she is, darling.” I know what’s coming even before she sits up and reaches for her dress. “She thinks she’s in love with you.”
Guilt rises again, gaining teeth and claws. I made my decision when I went to Olympus and effectively seduced Zurielle Rosi without ever fucking her. There’s no going back now. The die is cast. All that matters is riding this to the bitter end. It doesn’t matter that I already know the outcome of the auction, that Ursa is setting this up with only one end result. Something could go sideways. No matter how powerful she is, she can’t tell the future. If someone comes in and blows the plan out of the water, we could be putting Zuri in actual danger. “She needs to be safe.”
“Safe is not the word I’d use.” She takes one look at my face and lifts an eyebrow. “Are you having an attack of conscience?”
“No, of course not.” It’s almost the truth. We’ve worked long months to get this into place, to irk Triton even as we pave the way for me to pay of the remainder of my bargain with Hades. If Zuri is the one to ultimately pay the price? Well, the worst she’ll deal with is a blow to her fragile heart. Really, I’m doing her a favor. Anyone else would throw her to the wolves for their freedom instead of ensuring the auction has the proper end result.
Or at least that’s the narrative I’ve spun.
I’ve always been good at lying to myself to get what I want.
Still. I swallow down the uncomfortable feeling in my throat. “She’s an innocent.”
“Please. She’s from Olympus. Her father might not be one of the Thirteen, but he’s close enough. Or do I have to remind you what he’s done to both of us?”
“You don’t have to remind me.” Triton would have killed me if I wasn’t able to pay that debt, and he wouldn’t have lost any sleep over it. Fucking his favorite daughter is the least I could do for revenge. “She’s a good girl.”
“Mmhmm.” Ursa taps my under the chin with one blood-red nail. “And after the auction, she’ll be our good girl.”
Heat surges through me at the thought of Zuri here, in bed with us. If I was a better man, I’d have found another way. I’m not. I want my freedom. I want Ursa. And, yeah, I want Zuri, too. Not forever, but the idea of playing with her hot little body? I’m selfish enough to want it all. “You really think she’ll be into it?” The Zuri I spent time with in Olympus was painfully sweet. I can’t imagine her wanting what’s coming. I’m not sure what it says about me that I’m not sure if I care. She’s agreeing to it. That’s enough.
“I think you underestimate her, but then you’re a man. Of course you do.” She taps my chin one last time and stands. Even as I tell myself not to, I watch her get dressed. I love these moments when I get to see her like few other people do. It feels like a secret, and there’s nothing so addicting as a vulnerable moment shared with someone who is otherwise so fucking untouchable.