Page 57 of God of War

Ares clears his throat and looks around the dim space. He grabs a chair and drags it to the center of the room. He’s too far for me to touch him, though I guess that’s the point. He settles down, spreading his meaty thighs and folding his arms across his chest, as if waiting for me to impress him.

I laugh. “You want a show, huh?”

“I want you to stop playing around. This is your one chance, Delaney, because this isn’t happening again.”

“Oh, so this is for my benefit? Got it. I’ll get started then.”

I take a deep breath and stretch out. I keep the hem of the shirt draped between my thighs, hiding what he’s already seen. My fingertips tickle the sensitive skin on my inner thighs and I slide them up, up, up — finally disappearing under the fabric.

“Pull it up,” Ares orders gruffly. I pause, surprised that he’s chosen to join in so quickly — or at all — but I happily comply. Lifting the shirt to my hips, I watch him watch me. My pussy is slick and warm and I tease myself slowly, playing with my clit and enjoying the added thrill of Ares’ focus.

The chair creaks as Ares shifts. “You ever…” He stops. Clears his throat. “You ever finger yourself?”

My stomach swoops. I nibble at my bottom lip for a moment, then lower my fingers to my entrance. “What, like this?” I ask, mockingly innocent, and then I push two fingers inside myself. I throw my head back. It stings sweetly, my body not quite ready for it, but I keep going, pumping languidly.

Ares lets out a caught breath. “Fuck…”

The room fills with the sound of my wetness. Should I be embarrassed? I’m not sure. All I know is that I feel desired and dirty in a way that makes me light up on the inside. I can feel myself edging towards an orgasm and I’m torn between chasing it and holding it off. I don’t want this to end, but God, I also want Ares to see me come.

“Lift the shirt, Delaney,” he says, taking charge of my thoughts.

I snap to him. His eyes are half-lidded and he’s shifted now, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees like he’s watching the most enchanting thing in the world. He tilts his head.

“You hear me? I said lift the fucking shirt. I want to see your tits.”

A shiver runs down my spine. His cruel, degrading tone sends a flood of wetness between my legs and I whimper in surprised delight. Rucking the t-shirt up over my breasts, I pinch the hardened peaks of my nipples.

“It feels… God, it feels so good, Ares. Want you to touch me like this.”

“No,” he snaps. “Keep fucking yourself on your hand. Tell me when you’re about to come.”

I smile, panting a little as I feel myself getting closer. “You want to give me permission?”

Ares exhales sharply through his nose. “Like you’d wait for my permission,” he says. “No, you need it too badly, don’t you? Greedy little slut.”

My answering groan is deep and animal. Yes, maybe I am a slut. Maybe I am what everyone thinks I am: a liar, a deviant, a bad, bad girl. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe it’s fucking perfect.

I touch my clit. Tingling pin-pricks radiate out. I try to keep my eyes open, to focus on Ares, but I’m too close.

“Ares… Oh, fuck, Ares—”

I go completely stiff, my mouth open in a silent scream as I come around my still fingers. The wave of pleasure pulses and fades slowly, leaving me twitching and sensitive. My eyes flutter open… Just in time to see Ares’ empty chair and the bathroom door click shut behind him.

21

Ares

I yank my jeans open and shove them down my thighs. Wrapping my hand around my cock I jerk myself off with sharp strokes, chasing the release that’s Right. Fucking. There. All it takes is the memory of Delaney, spread out for me with her fingers shoved so deep inside that pink, glistening cunt that it was like she was fucking herself with her whole hand.

I tense, my teeth grinding, and cum splatters across the wall in a rush of ecstasy. The relief is a blip, followed almost immediately by regret.

What the fuck did I just do?

I promised myself I wouldn’t be that man. That she would be safe with me. That I wouldn’t touch her… But I didn’t touch her. Not technically.

I crank on the shower and shed my clothes, jumping in to wash off the sweat and cum and shame. I try not to think about Delaney’s naked body, or those big green eyes, or that choked little gasp that left her as she climaxed. By the time I step out, I don’t feel any better. In fact, there’s one thought that I can’t shake: that if I’m given the chance, I’d do it all over again.

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