Page 131
Story: The Duplicity of Thieves
“Don’t fuck with me, Josephine. I know you saw him after I ordered him away,” he sneers. Aedon has fully lost his temper, and I could orgasm with the knowledge that he's so jealous he could kill me.
“You’re jealous of him?” I give another frantic laugh. He glares at me with daggers.
“I’m asking you, love. Should I be?” He’s insecure, another unprecedented thing.
“And you would let me go?”
I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t like this conversation. I’m terrified I might lose Aedon. I knew he would be angry, but I want my obsessive psycho husband back. The one who drives his name into my skin almost as deep as he drives into me.
He searches my face. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s not in my silence,” I manage to say.
“What?”
“My silence. That’s not when I’m the loudest. It’s when I’m screaming your name,” I end with a whisper.
The vein in his temple throbs. “You’re drunk. Do you even know what you’re saying?”
“I love you, Aedon.”
Up to this point I have kept the words from my mouth. So has Aedon. The implication has been there, but now he needs to hear it, so I’ll tell him how I feel. Hades asked me hard questions tonight. If Aedon is questioning how I feel, I need to tell him. Even if it feels like I could throw up expressing emotion. He’s done more than earned it.
“Do you mean it?”
“I don’t say things that I don’t mean. I dance around them.”
I adjust my ankles hooked around his waist and squeeze. I need some sort of fucking friction before I come based solely on the fact that he's inside of me. But Aedon is an angry statue with the hottest possessive smirk, and he’s my fucking husband. It’s all too much.
“Are you going to come?” he asks, looking into my face. I can feel myself tightening. No, no, no. Not again. I give him a helpless nod.
He nips at my neck. I’m barreling toward an orgasm, and he didn’t even have to do a goddamn thing. “Come, love, and I promise it won’t be the last time.”
My nails dig into his neck, drawing blood. He’s crushing my hips, and my insides weep. This might be worse than when he wouldn’t touch me at all. He keeps kissing my neck, and goosebumps spread across my skin.
“Aedon, please,” I beg. He chuckles over my collarbone, and I whine. One last little protest before I come. He gives me nothing, not one movement, letting me suffer through it like he suffered through the night. My insides are like molten lava, already begging to come again.
His soul is latched to mine. While he has been loud about his obsession, I’ve been quiet, but I won’t be anymore. I don’t have to be. All my feelings are out there. I laid my love down as a sacrifice. Eternity with Aedon will be bliss if we make it that far. We’re flying close to the sun, and the fall will be worth it if I can melt with him.
For years Killian tried to keep me from myself, unable to accept me. He always redirected me or stood in front of me. Aedon watches, absorbed in who I am. He watched me bash that man’s face in at the club that night and thought it was endearing. I don’t know who I am, but Aedon doesn’t give a fuck. He would love me even if I became a monster and turn himself into one to be with me. I stop spasming around him, but I’m shaking.
I need more. I need his words, his love, and his life. I need everything.
“Do you love me?” I ask. It makes me feel weak and vulnerable to ask.
“What?” He looks up at me, brows furrowed with confusion. I wrap my arms around his neck, trying to ignore my own arousal.
“Do. You. Love. Me?” I pronounce each word.
His kiss is soft. He runs his fingertips along my body, taking care to explore each inch. He withdraws himself and slides back into me, sending a shock wave through me. Aedon pulls me from the wall and lays me down. Kissing me again and again until my lips are numb. With each kiss he pushes in to the hilt.
His voice is raspy. “I love you, Josie. So fucking much.”
This isn’t just sex anymore. Blue eyes watch me hungrily. He stands, unbuttoning his shirt excruciatingly slowly, before reaching down and finally removing his pants. His massive cock is throbbing, coated with my cum. He lines himself up, and I whimper before he flips me onto my knees on the bed and drags my hips back toward him. I feel him again, extending between my soaking thighs as I tremble with need. Instead of entering me, he slides between my folds and pulls my shoulder backward, pressing my back against his chest.
“You’re a disease,” he says, echoing the words he said earlier. He circles my nipple with his fingertip. “You are infecting me, and I won’t survive. I know I won’t. If you were a poison, I would drink it willingly. I will sell you my soul, Jos, if it means that you know how much I love you.”
He pinches my nipple, then trails his hand down my stomach over my hips. His fingers slip through my folds gently, carefully. He poises one over my clit and then touches it, circling tenderly.
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