I suck on her clit hard, setting my teeth against the sensitive bundle of nerves, and her head falls back as a moan slips free. She’s close. I’m afraid that I’m closer. The burning across my back and ass settles beneath my skin, drawing my balls up and sawing my breath in my lungs. “Fuck.”
“Make her come, little Hercules.” The snap in Hades’s voice brings me back to myself, just a little. Meg tries to reach for me, but her cuffs hold her immobile. It’s so sexy, I can barely stand it. I growl against her skin.
“Problem?” This time, Hades’s voice is closer. I tense the barest fraction of a second before he kneels and he’s pressed against my back again. This time I can’t hold back a moan. The friction of his clothing against my smarting skin is almost too much. I clench my jaw and fight to keep from orgasming on the spot. Then Hades’s voice is in my ear again, making it worse. “If you needed help making Meg come, you should have just asked.”
Humiliation lashes me more intensely than the flogger did. Somehow that makes everything hotter. I want to please her, to please him. I can make her come with my mouth. I know I can. She’s close even now.
But I’m not in charge.
Hades is.
He reaches around me and presses his hand to Meg’s pussy. I watch him push three fingers into her hard, already knowing exactly what she needs, and my strange shame burns hotter. Worse in some ways… as he presses his cock against my ass, I can’t help resenting the clothing barrier between us. I can imagine him driving just as deep into me as his fingers are into Meg right now. No, better than that. I can imagine him fucking me as I fuck her, even if it’d really be Hades fucking us both.
“You’re getting distracted, little Hercules.” He switches hands, delving the one still wet with Meg’s desire into my pants as he starts fucking her again with his other. He grips my cock tight and I can’t fight back a moan. Hades’s chuckle is cruel. “It would be a shame if you came before she does.”
Just like that, I can’t hold on any longer. I suck hard on Meg’s clit and come into Hades’s hand, and it’s only his clever fingers that have her following me over the edge. The pleasure goes on and on, wave after wave until my body goes limp and it’s only Hades’s arms around me that keep me from slumping over.
I rest my forehead against Meg’s stomach. “Fuck.”
“Yeah,” she whispers. She still doesn’t sound like herself, but I get that now. I don’t sound like myself in this moment either.
I don’t know what I expect after that. I honestly don’t. But nowhere in my realm of possibilities is it for Hades to take care of us. He eases me back from Meg and cleans up my stomach before I can dredge up the energy to do it myself. Another blanket appears and he guides me back to the floor next to the couch. At some point Aurora gets up, gives my shoulder a quick squeeze, and slips out of the room. That shame from before hasn’t gone anywhere, and it only worms its way deeper as I huddle beneath that fucking blanket and watch Hades tend to Meg.
He leans down and says something in her ear and cups her pussy in a possessive way that raises a strange kind of jealousy in me. Jealousy because I want her, yes, but jealousy in the level of caring she receives from him. She means something to him, something special. I might not understand the many undercurrents of their relationship, but even I can see that.
Hades uncuffs her and scoops her into his arms. Meg always seems larger than life, so it’s almost shocking to see how small she really is. He carries her easily to the couch and wraps another blanket around her while she’s still in his lap. I don’t know what to expect. Am I supposed to leave? The thought hurts. A lot. More than it has right to.
Somehow, he knows.
Hades taps the couch next to him with a single finger. “Up.”
My legs shake as I obey. I feel both too light and too raw, as if he’s ripped me open for his perusal. Maybe he has. I must take too long, because he grips the back of my neck and guides me until I’m leaning against them, my head in Meg’s lap. She has to spread her legs to make room for my shoulders, and that could have been an invitation of sorts, but it doesn’t feel like it. I close my eyes. One of them sifts their fingers through my hair, but I can’t work up the energy to open my eyes to know who. Does it even matter?
I don’t understand any of this. The actions, yes. Not the motive behind it. I can’t shake the feeling they chose me on purpose, trapped me on purpose. My father has a long history of fucking people over, and sometimes those people want revenge. They can’t get to him, so they target the people in his sphere. My mother has had no fewer than four assassination attempts since I was born. My older brother, the heir to the title Zeus, has had double that. Just because I’ve mostly be spared from that danger up to this point doesn’t mean a single damn thing.
In absence of better evidence, the only thing I can do is draw a line between these two things. Hades has some connection to Olympus. All signs point to him targeting me specifically, which means he likely is using me to get to my father.
I almost laugh at the thought, might even do it if I had the energy. Hades might know a lot, might have some deep plans running, but he obviously doesn’t realize how deep my hatred for my father goes. If he wants to use me against the man, he’s more than welcome to.
None of that explains Meg, though. She was surprised by the turn of events, which means she has no idea what Hades is planning. The thought of her being inadvertently hurt by this… Yeah, I’ll keep my mouth shut and pay attention until I know something for sure. If I think for a second Meg is in danger, then I’ll fight Hades, strange attraction to him or no.
Until then, I wait.
I don’t mean to fall asleep. I have every intention of getting up and making my way… somewhere. Back to my room, I guess. I’m in no shape to sling drinks right now. But the darkness behind my eyes gains new depth and pulls me down despite myself.
My last thought is how absurdly safe I feel right now, with two people who I most definitely shouldn’t trust.
Chapter Twelve
Meg
“What game are you playing, Hades?”
He strokes a hand down the back of my thigh, directly over the welts he striped there. A comforting touch and still a reminder of his power. Everything is like that with him, always has been. Layers upon layers. There are days when I’d give my right eye for him to just speak plainly. Just once. I already know his answer won’t satisfy before he says, “A deep one, love.”
I look down at Hercules. His body has gone slack with sleep, the adrenaline drop knocking him out as surely as any drug. If we can’t rouse him enough to get him down to his suite, he’ll end up here on the couch. It won’t be the first time something like this has happened, but my stomach twists at the thought of him waking up and thinking he’s been abandoned. “He’s an innocent.”
“He’s from Olympus. There are no innocents there, not in the circles he moved in.”
Finally, a hint at the truth. I should have made the connection the second Hercules picked that as his safe word, but I’d been too busy wallowing in anger and self-pity. I lean back enough so that I can see Hades’s face. “He’s too young to be connected to your exile.”