I make a wordless sound of protest, even as Kassam drags me after him, sending orgasmic pulses through our joined hands. I don't dare look over at my mother, because I'm humiliated as the god pulls me toward the room. "We're not doing this here," I manage to choke out. "Kassam, no—"
"Carly, yes," he says, pulling me into the plain little room and shutting the door behind us. He scans the surroundings—my mom's folding card table, the two cheap metal chairs, and then the counter stacked with tarot decks and rune stones, along with books and more crystals. He sweeps the counter clean, everything crashing to the floor. "You wanted a marriage, you will get a marriage—in all ways."
"You're being an asshole," I hiss at him. "Is this because I wouldn't kiss you? I sure don't want to now."
"No, this is because you are my wife," he says, voice succinct and clear as he turns to me. "And because I have now vowed in front of the gods to keep you safe from harm. So hop onto the counter and I will fuck you appropriately, so we may consummate our relationship and you will be protected."
"I am not doing this here!" Not with my mother outside the door, knowing what we're doing. It violates every rule of mother-daughter-ness there is.
Kassam turns to me, ignoring my protests. He hauls me against him, and I practically stumble, my hands slapping against his chest. He ignores my efforts to push him away, unzipping my jeans and thrusting them down my legs. "Step out."
"I am not," I hiss.
He kneels in front of me, his silver eyes hazy and his expression one of absolute determination. "Carly. You agreed to see to my needs, did you not? We have copulated many, many times already. Your mother knows this. Your body knows this. This will keep you safe. Do not be stubborn."
"You're doing this because you're mad at me," I pant. It's getting harder to think, especially as he gently lifts one foot and pulls my jeans free, then the other. I didn't put on panties earlier when I left, imagining I'd only be gone for a few minutes, and now I'm bare from the waist down. He cups my ass with his big hands, pulling me closer to him.
Kassam squeezes my ass, gazing at my pussy. "Mad at you? No." He glances up at me. "I am doing this because I like fucking you. Because I like those little sounds you make when I am deep inside you. I am doing this because I am Hedonism…and because I owe it to you to make you as safe as I can. If that means we have sex here instead of in another store like the one we were in last night, then I will gladly do so. Unless you have somewhere else you'd rather go?" His hand skims across my hip and down my thigh, and it takes everything I have not to part my legs and just pull him in. "Tell me to stop right now, Carly, and I will. You are in charge."
"I hate you," I mutter.
"Are you telling me to stop?"
I bite back a sigh of frustration. I'm annoyed, but I'm not an idiot. And with him touching me like this? I want him, too. Of course I do. It's his curse that's making me react, but it doesn't matter. I'm still achy with need. So I answer. "No, I'm not telling you to stop."
He glances up at me, and there's triumph in his eyes. "But you do not want me to kiss you."
"Nope." I pop the “P” in the word for emphasis.
"Not even…here?" And he nuzzles at my pussy, his tongue flicking against my skin.
I suck in a breath. We've had sex. We've had a lot of sex, actually, in the last two days. But it's been about him and “scratching his itch,” so to speak, so all the sex has been fast and furious, with very little foreplay. I haven't minded. In fact, I've been so out of my head with need that the faster the sex, the better. It never occurred to me to demand that he go down on me. But right now, as he kneels before me with his mouth hovering just above the juncture of my thighs? I realize he's discovered a new angle in which to drive me crazy.
And I am suddenly all for it.
"Kissing…is usually on the mouth," I mention, squirming against his touch. "That's…not quite the same."
"Is it not?" He gently pushes my thighs apart, forcing me to lean against the counter. The room's a mess thanks to his arm-sweep across the countertop, and I should tell him we need to clean up before fooling around, but I can't make my mouth work to form the words. He gazes at the tuft of hair between my thighs and then slides his thumb down the seam of my folds. "If I put my mouth here, is that not a kiss?"
"No." My voice sounds wobbly. Heated, but wobbly.
"Even if I add my tongue?" He licks his lips as that thumb moves over and over, rubbing up and down my slit.
"Still not a kiss."
"Mmm." He glides his hands down my legs, then takes one foot in his grasp. Pressing a kiss to my ankle, he maneuvers my foot onto his shoulder and then over it, sliding forward. His face is between my legs, and I'm half-straddling his face. I'm panting, too, my breath coming in raspy, excited gasps. "Should I stop, then?" he asks, nipping at the inside of my thigh.
"Didn't—didn't say that," I manage.
He gives me a triumphant look. "You're going to fall in love with me, Carly. Wait and see."
"Just because you give me head? You've got a pretty high opinion of…ohhh," I cry out as he buries his face between my legs, his tongue surging deep. His movement is so sudden that I have to brace my hands on his head to hold myself steady. He immediately goes in for my clit, and when he finds it, he makes a noise of pleasure.
Then he tongues it and begins to suck.
I whimper, my legs twitching with the force of the pleasure shooting through me. This isn't some Tinder date that brags about his prowess and lies about his height. I've forgotten in my stance against kissing that Kassam is a god. He's thousands of years old and has had plenty of time to practice how to please a lover. He knows exactly what he's doing, and he wastes no time. He sucks on that tiny bit of flesh like he's nursing from it, and all the while, I practically crawl up the wall, beside myself with how good it feels. I jerk my hips against his face, crying out as he adds a finger into the mix, teasing it at the entrance to my core but never pushing it quite in.
"Oh please," I breathe, wriggling as I try to rock my hips in a way that will get that big finger deep inside me. "Oh, Kassam, please. Fuck, yes. Oh god, your mouth is killing me."
The horrible man chuckles against my flesh, and the feel of it just makes me squirm even more. His tongue flicks against my clit, and he switches to rolling it against his tongue, back and forth, side to side, teasing like a goddamn monster as I keen obscenities into the air.
Then, he pushes a finger inside me, and I sob with how good it feels. A moment later, he adds a second, and I eagerly mount his hand, my pussy making these wet, filthy, squelching sounds as he works me with two fingers. When I finally come, it's with a sob of pure relief, everything clenching magically and sending me into bliss. Kassam continues to tongue me, though his pace slows a little. He languidly teases my clit with the occasional flick of his tongue, and I think he's about to let me go. Sighing, I relax against the counter, vaguely aware that I'm on tiptoe with my one foot that's on the ground. I'm not entirely sure how I managed to keep my balance in all that. Kudos, me. "You can let me up now," I say, detangling one hand from his hair. "You—"