Radiant Sin(68)

I start to make a snarky response, but he presses his fingertips to my G-spot and my ability to think flees, leaving only stark truth in its wake. “It’s for you,” I cry out. “It’s all for you.”

“Good girl.” His low words, his approval, send me over the edge. I orgasm with a cry that surely can be heard through the house. Apollo doesn’t stop, though. He starts stroking my clit with his other hand, watching my face even as he keeps my orgasm going. “Give me another, love. You can do it.”

As if I have a choice.

He leans down and presses a kiss to my knee even as he winds me up tighter, urges my pleasure higher. And, gods, the way Apollo looks at me. His heart is in his eyes, and it feels as if he’s laying it at my feet even though he’s most assuredly in the dominant role. Every touch, every sweep of his gaze over my body… It’s worshipful, but it goes beyond that. He’s not just happy to be fucking someone in general.

Apollo sees me.

The realization comes as he shifts down and presses a lingering kiss to my pussy. He keeps working me with his fingers, but his clever tongue drags leisurely over my clit, again and again. I reach for him without thinking, only to be brought up short by the bondage holding my hands together and my arms bent. “I want—” I fight against the bonds, which drives my need higher. “I need—”

He lifts his head long enough to say. “When I’m finished, you can make requests.”

I blink down at him. “When you’re finished.”

“Yes. You asked me to take care of you. I’m doing it my way.” He nips my thigh lightly. “If my nights with you are numbered, then I’ll be damned before I cut any part of this short.” A shadow flickers through his dark eyes, there and gone too quickly for my desire-addled brain to identify.

Something cracks and gives in my chest. To my horror, my lower lip quivers. “Apollo.” So much in that single word. I care for you. I might more than care for you, but I can’t admit that because if I do, then I’ll never leave. I can’t stay.

“Cassandra.” His response contains just as many layers. I know him well enough to pick up on some of them, if not all. I care, too. I won’t ask you to stay.

The moment stretches out between us, and all the things I can’t say press against the inside of my lips. I didn’t expect to feel this conflicted. I didn’t expect…any of this. It doesn’t change the circumstances, though, and we both know it.

Even if I wasn’t planning to flee the city to save my sister, the events of this afternoon have been an unwelcome reminder of just how dangerous it is to be among the Thirteen. It wasn’t Aphrodite or Hephaestus or Dionysus who was attacked. It was Pan. It could have just as easily been me. If I stayed, it might very well be me next time.

What happens to Alexandra if I get hurt?

If I die?

Apollo kisses me before I can ruin this with messy emotions and an impossible situation neither of us can solve without someone getting hurt. Better we be the ones to hurt than those who depend on us.

Again, I try to reach for him, and again, the rope pulls me up short.

This time, he doesn’t leave me frustrated. He keeps kissing me as he starts to unwind the rope. The problem with the more elaborate forms of bondage is that it takes almost more time to get out of it than it does to get in, but with him, it doesn’t feel like a chore. It’s just a different form of foreplay.

The rope sags and he slips the last bit of it from me. I reach for him, but he catches my wrists in a light but firm grip. “No.” He nips my bottom lip. “Tonight is about you.”

“Well, I want to touch you.”

He leans back enough to give me a rueful smile. “Later. I promise.”

“Apollo…” Something resembling a whine works its way into my voice. “Please.”

His smile falls away. “At the beginning of this, you told me what you want. I’m going to give it to you.” He picks up the rope again. “But I want better access to your breasts. Your hands.”

It’s not quite a command, but it’s close enough. I slowly extend my arms and watch as he binds my wrists together. He’s good. The rope loops several times down my forearms and around in those careful knots, ensuring that it doesn’t put too much pressure on any one part of me.

He tests it. “Too tight?”

I want to be a brat about him removing the ability to touch him again, but I can’t seem to summon the attitude. “No,” I answer honestly.

“Good.” He urges me onto my back and loops the tail of the rope behind the headboard and over the top. Then the bastard presses the loose end into my hands. “I trust you to obey me, love. Hold this.”

Hold this.

What he means is to hold myself captive. I can’t pretend he’s tying me down and that I can’t get free—safe word excepting, of course. No, he’s ensuring I’m a willing participant in this because that’s just who Apollo is.

It’s a head fuck. Part of me wants to release it just to be perverse, to see what he’ll do. The rest of me only wants to please him. That’s the part that wins. I wrap the rope around my palm and tighten my fingers. “Okay.”

“Good girl.” He sits back on his heels and just looks at me. Again, I can’t shake the truth that he sees me. Not just my body at the expense of my mind. Not my mind at the expense of my body. Me. All of me.