3. Hephaestus

3

HEPHAESTUS

I take another long pull from the whiskey bottle before I follow Aphrodite down the hall to the ridiculously lavish bedroom. Everything about this place reflects Olympus as a whole. Wealth invested in useless things to create an aesthetic. Appearances are all that matter to the citizens of this city, and the longer I’m here, the less connected with reality I feel.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t need reality. I have Minos’s plans. It should be a victory beyond measure that a pissed-off orphan is now one of the thirteen most powerful people in one of the world’s most untouchable cities. I expected that feeling, anticipated it. This is what I’ve always wanted, after all. Power enough not to be fucked with.

I didn’t anticipate that power would feel like a steel trap closing around my leg.

Growing up, I always thought power meant freedom. Being brought into Minos’s household as a teenager only cemented that belief. He answers to one person, and even then, it’s rarely. I wanted that for myself, wanted it so desperately, I could taste it.

The last two weeks have shown me how wrong that belief is. I haven’t made a choice for myself since becoming Hephaestus. There’s more red tape than I could have dreamed, and it all culminates with this fucking marriage and this fucking night.

Aphrodite takes her hair down from its fancy design, pin by pin. She doesn’t look over, doesn’t even act like I’m in the room.

Now’s the time to take charge of the situation, to show her that I’m not some weakling that she can manipulate and steamroll. But I can’t quite make my body move as I watch dark strand after dark strand fall. Her hair is long, reaching halfway down her back in a faint wave. It’s not naturally wavy. Or at least it wasn’t during the house party Minos threw two weeks ago.

She sets the last pin on the dresser and runs her fingers through her hair. “That’s better. Now, come unzip me.”

I jolt. “The fuck?”

Aphrodite turns to face me, a mocking smile on her crimson lips. “Darling, look at me. In case you didn’t notice, this dress hardly allows for much movement.”

Against my better judgment, I drag my gaze over her body. The dress truly is a masterpiece. It leaves little to the imagination, and if she’s built just as sharp in body as she is in face, even I can’t deny that Aphrodite is beautiful. The lace flows over her body, drawing my attention to the curve of her small breasts, the slight flare of her waist, the miles and miles of legs.

“Turn around.” I hardly sound like myself.

She gives me one last long look and then turns. It’s not better without her dark eyes on me, because the mirror over the dresser hides nothing. She should be afraid of me, should be wondering what I might do now that we’re alone, and yet I’m the one who’s almost tentative as I move to stand behind her.

The zipper is a tiny little thing, but I’m used to this sort of shit after growing up with Pandora as a best friend. Women’s clothing is fucking impractical, and Pandora likes to pick the most impractical of all. I hope she listened to me about going home with the family tonight. She was a little tipsy when we left, and she gets mischievous when she drinks. So far, I’ve managed to keep her out of trouble since we came to Olympus, but this is the first night we won’t be spending together in longer than I can remember.

Fuck, I can’t think about that.

She’s smart. She won’t do anything dangerous. After the media frenzy that’s followed us around since I became Hephaestus, she has to know better than to be caught out alone. The reporters and paparazzi are unrelenting. I don’t know how these fuckers live like this.

Pandora isn’t part of Minos’s plan, which means she’s expendable in his eyes. Or she would be if her safety wasn’t so fucking important to me. He’ll have a security detail on her. He promised.

“Problem, Husband?”

Godsdamn it, but I can’t afford to think about Pandora right now. She’ll make it through the night and I’ll clean up any mess tomorrow. Right now, I need to focus on the danger closer at hand.

My wife.

It feels unbearably intimate to grab that ridiculous zipper and drag it slowly down the line of Aphrodite’s spine. The fabric parts, revealing smooth pale skin unmarred by scars. It’s nice to be an Olympian princess, apparently.

The dress slithers off her, and she makes no move to stop it. She’s wearing a pair of white lace panties beneath it and nothing else. Aphrodite turns to face me and leans against the dresser. “Your turn.”

I’ve never found the sweet, shy virginal thing particularly attractive, but her brazen attitude still sets me back on my heels. She’s been driving this encounter from the beginning. The wedding was all her doing, right down to the little details. And now this.

I’m fucking done.

“We do this my way.” I close the distance between us, pinning her between me and the dresser. She’s still wearing her heels, and fuck if it doesn’t irritate me beyond all reason to have her face even with mine.

Maybe that’s why I kiss her. It’s pure instinct, wanting to put her in her place, to remind her that she’s not the one in charge of this shit.

I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

She meets me halfway, our kiss immediately turning into a war of tongue and teeth. I dig my fist into her hair and wrap my other arm around her waist, jerking her against me. Fuck, but she feels good. I hate how good she feels.

I spin us around and half carry her to the bed. My instincts are all fucked up. I want to punish her, to make this fast and rough and selfishly chase my own pleasure…but I can’t quite make myself stop kissing her.

Aphrodite snakes a hand between us and cups my cock through my pants. She breaks the kiss long enough to say, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

No use arguing. I’m hard enough that I’m half-surprised I haven’t split the seam. My wires always did get crossed with anger and fucking. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.” She strokes me slowly, a wicked grin curving her lips.

Again, trying to take control of this. Again, it’s far too tempting to let her.

Instead, I drop her on the bed.

She lets out a startled yip, but I’m already moving, grabbing her around the hips and flipping her onto her stomach. I drag her back until her feet meet the ground. This view isn’t any less distracting. She’s got a tight little ass that makes me want to…

I yank her panties down her legs, cursing a bit when she lifts her hips to help me. The heels keep her ass high in the air. I can’t quite stop myself from palming her, squeezing her flesh. She moans a bit and spreads her legs. “Now.”

It would be simple as fuck to free my cock and take her like this. Hard and fast. Part of the wedding preparations were both of us getting tested and her providing evidence she’s on birth control.

But a piece of paper is easy enough to forge. I’ve done it myself in the past, though not with this kind of shit. Marrying this woman is one thing. Having a child with her? The thought makes me take a step back.

I don’t want kids. I’m self-aware enough to know I’d be a shit parent. Fuck, look at all the horrific shit Pandora and I went through in that orphanage before Minos swept in like some fucked-up fairy godfather. Most importantly, I don’t even like kids. It’s not worth the risk that she’d trap me like this.

“Condom,” I manage.

Aphrodite huffs out a breath. “Now you’re just stalling.” She continues before I can tell her in no uncertain terms that I’m not fucking her without one. “Top drawer.”

I don’t ask how she knows that. It doesn’t matter. I stalk to the dresser and yank it open. Sure enough, there’s a sealed condom box there. I look it over, trying to think clearly even through the blood rushing through my head and cock. My concentration takes a nosedive when I glance at Aphrodite and find her hand between her thighs, working her pussy. I can see the glisten of her wetness coating her fingers from here.

Fuck this, I’m done waiting.

I tear open the package and rip one of the condoms off. It takes all of a few seconds to get my cock out and roll it down my length. I don’t take off the rest of my clothes. This situation is out of control enough without losing that last bit of a barrier. It’s already clear I won’t put Aphrodite in her place like this, but I’ll keep my word and consummate this sham of a marriage.

Back at the bed, I lift her hips higher and grab her hand. She tenses. “What…oh.” I press it to my cock, letting her feel the condom.

“You won’t trap me like this.”

She laughs, low and throaty. “As if I need to. We’re already married, Husband.”

She’s right. I hate that she’s right.

I knock her hand away and press against her entrance. Once again, Aphrodite doesn’t give me a chance to decide how I want to play this. She shoves back against me, sheathing me to the hilt.

A choked curse escapes despite my best efforts. She clamps around me, tight enough that I almost lose it right then and there. It’s been too long since I was with someone. That’s the only reason I’m in danger of coming so fast. It’s not because of the sexy as fuck flare of her waist that seems made for my hands. Or the way she tilts her hips up to take me deeper yet.

I grab her hips, holding us sealed together, as I fight for control. This is only the first battle in a war that might last years. I can’t let her defeat me. “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“One cock is as good as another.” The words are harsh, but her voice is too breathy to really pull it off. “You could be anyone.”

Smarter to think of it that way. To pretend she’s some stranger I will never have to see it again. To let myself enjoy this pleasure, even a little bit. Almost against my will, my attention lands on the diamond on her ring finger. This isn’t a stranger. This is my wife. I’d be a fool to forget that. “But I’m not just anyone, Wife. It’s your husband’s cock you’re about to come all over.” I thrust a little, vindicated when she gives a choked curse in response.

I really should know better by now. She’s not one to take any kind of dominance passively, because of fucking course she isn’t. She might be pinned on my cock, but that doesn’t stop her from wresting the control right out of my hands. “Yeah, I am about to come. No thanks to you,” she gasps. She still has her hand between her thighs, stroking her clit even as her pussy flutters around me. Little moans slip free, the sounds surprisingly sweet for such a vicious witch.

Holy fuck, she really is coming.

My body takes over, even as my mind grapples with this surreal experience. I drive into her, needing to get deeper, to take her harder. Her moans grow louder, and she’s arching her back, angling to take me the same way I’m taking her.

Three strokes in, I realize I don’t give a fuck about lasting. She’s ensured her own pleasure. I’m a sap if I do anything else. I curse and jerk her back onto my cock, giving in to the pressure building in my balls. I come so hard, it makes me dizzy. I want to keep fucking her, to drive into her again and again until…

Until I don’t know what.

I stare down at the point where we’re joined. Sex is sex, and its importance begins and ends with having a good time. Except this isn’t sex. I just passed the point of no return. There can be no annulment now.

We’re well and truly married.

I withdraw from her, careful to keep the condom in place, and stagger into the bathroom. I’m no steadier once I’ve cleaned up, so I splash some cold water on my face. There’s the rest of the night to get through, and though I have no intention of fucking my wife again, I still have to learn to live with her.

Except when I step back into the bedroom, it’s to find her pulling on a different dress. It’s a vibrant red and barely covers her ass and tits. It’s also tight enough that I can tell she’s not wearing a thing under it.

“What are you doing?”

She brushes past me, still wearing those damned heels, and finger-combs her hair in front of the mirror. “Our business is done for the night, dear husband. I’m off to have some fun.”

Alarm bells peal through my head. This isn’t going at all like I thought it would. She doesn’t seem affected by the fact we had sex at all.

Not that I’m affected by the sex at all. More that past partners have usually wanted to talk or cuddle or some shit after the fact. Maybe go for round two or three. They aren’t dressed after fucking and taking off the first chance they get. “Running away?”

She pauses. “It’s really cute that you think you scare me.”

“Don’t I? We’re alone. No big brother to protect you.” I don’t know why I say it. Minos gave me clear orders, and those orders don’t include making waves with my new wife. I’m supposed to settle into Hephaestus and secure this power base.

Aphrodite watches me in the mirror, her gaze mocking. “Aw, you think I need protection. Cute.” She turns, and I’m only human. My attention drops to where the top dips until I can almost see her dusky-rose nipples. She snaps her fingers by her face to drag my eyes up. “If you planned on murdering me, you would have done it before the wedding and that lackluster sex.”

Lackluster—

She tugs on the hem of her dress, and I’m distracted by the possibility of her breasts popping free. She smooths her hands over the slick-looking fabric. “There.”

“You can’t go out like that.”

I realize my mistake the moment she smiles. “On the contrary, I can do whatever I damn well please.” She flicks a glance at my hips. At my cock. “Or did you think that sad little performance was enough to leave me comatose? Sorry, darling, but I have entirely too much energy to stay cooped up here with you.”

She blows past me again, leaving me to hurry after her, feeling like a fool. “Stop.”

“I don’t think I will.” She pauses at the door and blows me a kiss. “Have a good night, Husband. I certainly plan to.”