Page 56 of Taming Achilles

Maybe my perversions were her fault. I had no say in our relationship or its secrecy. I had worshipped the ground she walked on. Now, I needed to degrade, humiliate, and pleasure my partner into compliance.

Who am I fooling? Of course it's her fault. Everything in my life revolved around Lady Philippa Briseis Fox.

If I had pleasured her enough in Venice, maybe she’d be my wife now. If I had made her knees buckle in pleasure, or made her black out with orgasms, I would have woken with her in my arms, instead of a cold bed, her bags and the woman missing.

It was a stupid thought, but maybe there was truth to it.

I brought my cock to her entrance, feeling her clench in anticipation.

“Why do you have a gun, Pippa?” I said, bringing the gun away from her lips, but keeping it in her eye line.

“I can’t, Geo,” she whimpered. “Please don’t make me talk. I don’t want to lie to you.”

I looked at her pained expression, which fluttered to pleasure with every one of my thrusts as the tip of my cock bottomed out inside that glorious cunt.

“That’s the truth, isn’t it?” It was a rhetorical question. “You’re giving me more truth now.”

It was sexy, watching her struggle not to give in, but knowing that she would. It was only a matter of time. I had to pull a little bit of truth from her, like the string of a knitted garment, tugging at a single strand until it all came apart.

“You need to come for me, Pippa,” I said, kissing her throat, throwing the black gun away until it landed harmlessly on the black pillow. “You’ve given me truth, now you need to come.”

“I don’t know if I can,” she whined, her voice high, her body shivering under my demands. “It’s all too much.”

“Yes you can,” I told her. “You can because I’m ordering you to.”

Just as I knew she would, her eyes fluttered closed. Her pussy clenched around me as her hands fought against her restraints. Her back arched as her entire body tensed, from the crease of her brow to the curl of the toes.

“That’s it,” I encouraged, “you’re doing well. Keep going.”

She screamed. It was loud, agonised. Her voice was a wail of complete ecstasy that dragged me with it. I came inside her, and for a moment, I thought of what it would be like to watch her beautiful, elegant, flat stomach growing with my child. I dragged my hand to the place below her belly button, shutting my eyes to imagine.

How had I come here? Going from making her my whore to the mother of my children in my mind? I would be able to keep her, if she had my baby. She’d be tied to me for at least eighteen years, probably longer. The idea of being inextricably linked to her was the most freeing thought in the world.

I would feel freer if she were handcuffed to me. Forever by my side.

She squirmed below me, and I wondered how long I had been lost in my own mind. She was breathing hard, her eyes distant and glassy. I reached for the knife on the nightstand and cut the zip ties, massaging her wrists where angry red marks had twisted her skin raw.

She didn’t use her freedom to move away. Instead, her hands came to my face, her fingers massaging my neck. Then moved down to my shoulders.

“I have to go,” she whispered, though she didn’t push me off of her.

“I know.”

“Geo, I …”

“Don’t.” I placed a thumb over her lips. “You told me truth. Don’t spoil it by feeding me a lie now.”

The corners of her lips lowered into a tragic frown. Her lips clamped shut, wrinkling where they met. She was fighting her words. Stopping herself from telling me an untruth. Or maybe she was fighting the urge to tell me her secrets, and was holding them in her mouth.

I kissed her forehead, breathing in that scent of lilies. A scent that only belonged on her.

I had once asked Simona to wear that perfume, and I hated it. Despised her scent on someone else. It stabbed me in the heart and I couldn’t perform. I had to cut that play short, to sort out my head. That was the first time I had been vulnerable with a woman that wasn’t my strawberry blonde princess.

“I wish I could tell you.” A tear went down her cheek, and I kissed it away, tasting the salt on my lips. “I want to, but I can’t … I …”

“That’s enough,” I told her, stroking her cheek. “We’ve gone past your limits.” I kissed that perfect, straight nose. “Keep your secrets. I don’t need all of them now.”

I lifted my weight from her, but she clutched onto my shoulders, pulling me back down.

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