26
Cassandra
Maybe, given enough time, I’d eventually become used to the way Apollo’s voice goes deep and stern when he’s turned on and looking at me like I’m a buffet laid out for his personal enjoyment. Maybe.
No matter what else is true, I’m not thinking of anything but him and what he’ll do next. It’s a reprieve I desperately need, and he’s giving me exactly what I asked for.
He circles back to the dresser and grabs a random hair tie I’d left there. It gives me the chance to take another moment to appreciate how fucking gorgeous he is. He has the kind of body that’s seen on classical statues, muscled without being over the top about it. He obviously works out—something I was well aware of before, since he does it on his lunch breaks—but seeing his smooth skin on display makes me weak. I want to taste him and touch him and just press as much of myself against as much of him as possible.
He makes me feel safe, as if when he’s in the room with me, nothing else can touch me. If I’m honest, he’s been making me feel safe for a very long time.
He turns and his cock is a painful-looking imprint on the front of his slacks. I swallow hard. “You should take your pants off.”
“When I’m ready.”
I shake my head. “I want you to have a good time, too, Apollo. This can’t all be about me.”
His eyes go wide and then narrow. “Cassandra.” Gods, I love that firm tone he takes when I’ve done something to test him. “Tonight I’ll have my hands on your naked body. No matter what else happens, I’m having the time of my life.” He’s smiling as he climbs onto the bed, and my brain does not have capacity to process Apollo crawling toward me with that look on his handsome face.
I expect him to stop a short distance away, but apparently we’re past that now. He nudges my legs together and moves to kneel straddling them. His powerful thighs pressed against the outside of mine send a shiver through me.
Apollo reaches behind me and gathers my hair in careful hands. It takes a few moments to get it into what feels like a messy bun, and then he runs his hands over my neck and shoulders and upper back, obviously checking for stray hairs that might get tangled in the rope. I have to fight the urge to practically purr at the way he’s taking care of me. Seeming to be satisfied, he sits back and begins running the rope through his hands.
I’ve seen dominants go through this ritual of checking rope before putting it on their submissives, but this feels different. Apollo lends a level of intent to the process that feels new and strange. It feels good.
The soft sound of the silken rope against his palms soothes me even as it makes the tension inside me coil tighter. I don’t understand how these two things can exist at the same time, but none of my rules seem to apply with this man.
Apollo reaches the end of the rope and gives a low hum of approval. “Hermes takes good care of her toys.”
I swallow hard. There’s none of the tightness in his tone that was there earlier, but that doesn’t change the fact that… “I don’t want to talk about her anymore.”
His lips curve. “Okay.” He sifts back through the rope to the approximate middle and gently hooks it around the back of my neck. He eyes me and licks his lips. “If anything…” Apollo shakes his head. “This should feel firm but not pinching. If anything starts to tingle, tell me immediately.”
“I will.” When he still hesitates, I add, “I promise.”
Finally, Apollo nods and begins.
It’s slow, sensual work. That feeling of being taken care of amplifies and expands with each brush of his knuckles and tug of the rope as he carefully binds me. The rope crisscrosses in front of the hollow of my throat, angling down to catch my elbows in a very supportive position that allows me to rest them in the cradle of the silk. Then it crosses in a different pattern between my breasts to bind my hands together, palm to palm in the prayer position. The way he has my arms lifts my breasts and has them pressing tightly against my forearms.
He sits back and studies me. “Perfect.” Apollo shifts around to my back and catches my chin in a firm hand, turning my face to the mirror over the dresser. “Look how beautiful you are, Cassandra.”
As I look into the mirror, it’s not my reflection I’m staring at. It’s Apollo, and the way he is looking at me. He runs his hands lightly over my arms and brushes the undersides of my breasts with his thumbs. “Does anything feel too tight?”
There’s not enough air in the room. He’s teasing me right now and I might die if he doesn’t touch me properly soon. “It feels good.”
“Mmm.” He lightly circles my nipples with his fingers. They’re already pebbled, but his touch makes them tighten. I whimper and instinctively lean back, trying to get away from the pleasure so acute that it feels like pain.
Except there’s nowhere to go. Apollo’s hard body is behind me, and he’s unyielding even as I squirm beneath his touch. “Apollo, please.”
“I will give you everything you need, love.” It almost sounds like a threat.
I can’t process the fact that he called me love. My mind skips right over that word on his lips, spoken in that deep, firm tone. “But—”
He plucks at my nipples, drawing a whimper from my lips. “You can argue all you want, but I will have my way.”
I press my thighs together, but it does nothing to assuage the need pulsing in my pussy. “I really hope your way includes orgasms and quickly.”
His chuckle makes things low in my stomach clench. Part of me still can’t believe this is happening, even as he resumes his position in front of me and eases me onto my back. Apollo’s touch is just as gentle and firm as he is, his hands lingering on my stomach and hips in a way that feels downright worshipping.
As promised.
He nudges my thighs wide and exhales shakily. “Now I can finally see you properly.”
“Apollo—”
“Hush.”
I lift my head and give him an incredulous look. “Did you just hush me?” He doesn’t respond with words. Instead, he drags his thumbs up the outside of my pussy, spreading me, and gives another of those deliciously shaky exhales. I bite my bottom lip. “I suppose I can be hushed if you keep doing that.”
“I appreciate your obedience,” he says in a distracted sort of way. He eases two fingers into me and a sound rumbles from his chest that’s almost a growl. “Is all this for me?” He pumps slowly, exploring me. It’s both similar to what he did last night and entirely different. “You’re so wet, you’re going to ruin the sheets.”
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.
Apollo licks his lips. “Now, we can begin properly.”