Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(52)

But then something seemed to come over his face and he turned away from her. Long seconds ticked by. Finally, his back stiffened and then he looked over his shoulder.

“Not bad, for a virgin.” She flinched and met his mercury stare, horror rising in her as he said, “I know I’ll watch the recording of this many times. And I think your uncles will really appreciate Part II of the wedding video, especially when you screamed my name and came all over my cock.”

With a dark smirk, he nodded toward the corner camera.

The blood left her face. No. Not after all this. They couldn’t be back to where they’d started. She’d seen the way he’d looked at her when he was deep inside her. She’d seen it in his eyes…hadn’t she?

The pain twisting her guts felt like that first night all over again when he’d first betrayed her.

But she didn’t say a word or speak up for herself as, without another word, he left the room.





Fifteen





Well, that had not gone according to plan.

Not the sex and not his cruel comments afterward. It was a lie about the cameras recording. He always turned the cameras off whenever he was with her.

And gods knew he thought about taking her virginity. Thought about it all damn week and for the months before. But this last week, fuck, every time he teased and tasted her, every time his cock grew painful in his pants, all he could think about was finally taking her and making her his.

But he was training her and training meant discipline. Patience. Making her crave him and pleasing him above all else.

He just hadn’t expected— He never could have prepared himself for—

He hadn’t even worn a condom. And if he had it to do again, he would have done it the same way. She’d gotten the shot almost a month ago and gods, feeling her virgin pussy, nothing between them, with how she clenched like a vise around him—

He scrubbed a hand down his face and watched her on the monitor even though he was disgusted at himself for doing it. Every second he wasn’t in her presence, he found himself glued to this damn screen. She was supposed to be obsessed with him, not the other way around.

He was about to shove his laptop screen shut when he saw her back start to shake.

Fuck. She was crying.

She looked so tiny in the big bed.

He dragged a hand through his hair, remembering every moment of when she’d taken him into her body, so hot and tight—gods she’d gripped him like a vice—eyes wide, without guile—

Like an innocent. She was a virgin. He’d known she was, but knowing and experiencing were two different things.

And when her orgasm had hit, milking his climax out of him at the same time, she’d looked at him like he was a god himself, like she’d worship at his feet forever and give him her submission along with her whole self and her soul, too.

The problem was, he was terrified he might have been looking at her the same way.

So he’d shut it down and reminded them both of who they were.

And now she was crying.

Marcus wanted to hit something. She wasn’t playing by the rules. This wasn’t how it was meant to go. None of this was going according to plan.

His phone rang once, loudly in the otherwise silent room. Marcus snatched it out of his pocket, never more glad for the distraction.

“What?” Marcus barked.

“We got a situation,” Sharo’s voice rumbled.

“Don’t tell me I gotta come down.”

“You gotta come down.” Sharo confirmed.

He gave a sharp nod even though Sharo couldn’t see him. Maybe getting out of here was exactly what he needed. He needed to get his head together, that was for damn sure.

“Be there in twenty.” Marcus hung up and stood. He went to his bedroom and dressed in quick, practiced movements.

He meant to leave right then and there. But, without fully intending to, his feet took him to Cora’s door.

Leave. You only did what had to be done. She’s the enemy.

He stood frozen for several more moments. And then he quietly opened the door.

Cora was laying down now and he walked to the bed. He didn’t know what he meant to say when he got close, but then he saw it didn’t matter. She’d cried herself to sleep.

She was beautiful in repose, but then she was beautiful no matter what she was doing. Sleep didn’t erase the furrow of distress on her brow. Was she dreaming of him?

His eyes squeezed shut. Sentimental idiot.

Still, he couldn’t leave without giving her something. She’d be sore when she woke. Even though it had been her first time, he hadn’t taken it easy on her. The least he could do was give her the means to take a bath in peace.

He ran a hand gently down her calf and when she didn’t wake, he undid the ankle cuff and freed her from the bed post.

“Sleep well, wife,” he murmured. She didn’t so much as twitch.

Without another word, he turned and flipped the lock he’d had installed outside her door as he left. Then he strode for the front door and soon he was in his Bentley, his driver speeding toward the Styx.

No, tonight had not gone according to plan.

But nothing with Cora ever had. She was never supposed to show up in his office that night, bedraggled and beautiful. She was never supposed to flash him that trusting, adoring smile afterwards, day after day after day.