Innocence (Tales of Olympus #1)(68)

He kept stroking her through it, more languidly now as she rode the crest, riding it and riding it and riding it—

He clutched her entire pussy in his large hand and massaged it as the waves subsided. A tremor rocked her body that she couldn’t help and her eyes flew open. Shit, she hadn’t even realized they dropped closed but the pleasure had been all-consuming.

His hand retreated. She almost gasped at the loss.

Marcus pushed his chair back from the table. “If you’ll excuse us,” he said crisply. He held out a hand to Cora. “Darling?”

It was not a request, Cora could tell by the fire burning in his eyes. Her hand trembling, she lifted it and took his. He pulled her up from the table, his fingers interlocking with hers. Cora briefly shot a wobbly smile in the direction of everyone at the table. Armand looked back knowingly. Oh God, had everyone at the table realized what was happening?

Marcus didn’t say anything as he pulled her through the crowded tables and Cora didn’t dare either.

Out of the ballroom, they went. All the way to the coat check.

“Your ticket number, sir?” asked the attendant.

“Do you know who I am?” Marcus asked.

The attendant’s eyes widened and he swallowed. “Yes sir, Mr. Ubeli, sir.”

“Give us the room,” Marcus demanded. “Twenty minutes.”

The attendant pushed open the half door he stood behind and scurried out without another question.

Cora shook her head at Marcus’s heavy handedness but the next second, he was dragging her into the room and closing both the bottom and top half of the door as well as locking it.

Then he pushed her up against the rack of coats.

“I don’t appreciate being contradicted in public,” he growled, his eyes dark. “By anyone but especially not by my wife.”

His wife? Cora couldn’t help scoffing. “Let’s not pretend I’m anything more than a convenient...what did that despicable woman call me? A fuck toy? And every time you fuck me, you’re getting revenge on my father, so I guess I’m a two-for-one special.”

If it was possible, Marcus’s gaze got even darker. His voice was dangerous when he said, “What woman?”

“I didn’t catch her name and she wasn’t wearing a collar, but apparently you like to have threesomes with her, so I hope you at least know her name.”

“Lucinda.”

Stupidly, hearing her name on his lips hurt. Because Cora was a stupid, stupid girl.

But apparently Marcus was moving on without any more comment on his former or perhaps still current fuck toy. “If you think telling that reporter that I’m keeping you against your will will help you—”

Cora laughed bitterly. “If you have the New Olympian Police Department under your thumb, I’m pretty sure you’d handle the third most popular newspaper in the city without much effort.” She leveled her gaze with his, which unfortunately meant she was still looking up to him, a disadvantage not even her three-inch heels could help.

“I want to see my friend, Maeve. She’s got to be worried about me since I haven’t even spoken to her since the wedding.”

Even talking about the wedding hurt, remembering how hopeful and excited she’d been on that day.

Cora lifted her chin defiantly. “Besides, surely a mobster like you will take any good press he could get because that’s how it works, right? The hypocrisy of this city? Everyone knows what’s actually going on but you all come to parties like this and rub elbows and smile at each other and pretend you care about charities when it’s all a smokescreen for the terrible reality?”

“Careful,” Marcus barked and his hand came to her throat.

Cora kept glaring at him. “Lock me back up. Starve me. Hit me if you want to. It’s nothing I haven’t had before. I told you, I survived before and I’ll survive you.”

Something flickered in his eyes but before she could try to figure out what, Marcus grabbed her by her waist and twirled her so she was facing away from him. He dragged up the skirt of her dress and the next second, had her panties down.

There was the noise of a zipper and he pulled her back against himself. She felt the heat of his long shaft against her buttocks and her sex clenched in anticipation.

Such a stupid girl.

He bent his head over her shoulder so that his five o’clock shadow bristled against her ear.

“You will never disrespect me in public like that again. You’ll do as I say. When I say.”

He thrust inside her drenched sex. Her eyes all but rolled back in her head at the fullness of him. His fingers had felt good but this, oh gods, this—

“Sorry if I’m not your usual mindless bimbo fuck.”

His arm circled around her chest and curved up until his hand was at her throat again. “Language,” he growled.

And as if for good measure, he gave her ass a sound smack.

Cora let out a hiss of outrage even as her sex clenched around him. His other arm that was a bar around her waist dropped until his fingers were strumming her clit and immediately the pleasure started to rise again. It was always like this, she’d noticed. After having one orgasm, the second was easier and quicker to rise, as well as often being harder and more fulfilling.

“This doesn’t change anything,” she panted even as her hips bucked back against him in pleasure. Oh gods. “I still,” gasp, “hate,” gasp, “you.”