Page 75 of Monsters in Love: Lost in the Underworld

“You’re wrong.”

Moira bucked her hips into mine; they could barely move, but the added friction only made my cock stiffen further.

“Your body says differently.” She smirked, far too satisfied with the effect she had on me.

I grunted in dissent.

I wasn’t the only one affected by this pull between us; I wouldn’t let her think she held the upper hand. Switching my hold so that only one hand was needed to pin her wrists, I reached down and grabbed the fabric of her chiton.

She didn’t protest. Our eyes remained locked in a burning glare. The fisted fabric slipped up her calves, over her thighs. I lifted my hips to allow it passage between our bodies. Moira could have fought me then. She could have made use of the lapse in pressure holding her down.

But she didn’t. My little thief wanted this as badly as I did, even if she wasn’t willing to admit it.

With the chiton pooled at her waist, I trailed a finger along the soaked fabric of her perizoma.

“Little Thief,” I said smugly, “your cunt is soaked with desire. You want me right back. You’re trying so hard to hold that rage in your eyes, but it’s not for me, it’s for yourself. You’re just like me.”

She smirked at me. This woman was unflappable. Besides the fleeting fear when threatened with the Styx, she hadn’t displayed any trepidation. I wanted to see her lose herself, consumed by fear or lust, anything to break that composure as she had broken mine.

I couldn’t be the only one losing myself. I wouldn’t accept it. With Moira, there could not be defeat nor conquest, only mutually assured destruction.

I gripped the sopping fabric and jerked it back until the sound of it ripping echoed across the water. Moira’s eyes widened, but her surprise was short-lived. I plunged two fingers into her cunt, curling them, then sliding them out only to thrust them deeply again. She bucked into my touch. A sweet moan slipped from those perfect lips.

“You want me, Moira. Admit it.”

“I don’t.”

I removed my hand from her pussy and gripped her hip, her juices slick against her flesh from my fingers. She whimpered in disappointment.

“Do you want me to touch you?”

She looked away, eyes facing my forearms instead of meeting mine.

“I can. I can stroke you dripping cunt until you writhe in pleasure.” I stroked a single finger along her slit, barely touching. A shiver wracked through her body at the touch. “Or,” I continued, pulling away, “I can leave you like this. Wanting. Desperate.”

She snapped her head forward. Her lips were pulled into a thin line, eyes glowing with want and resentment.

She couldn’t hide from me. She wanted me as much as I wanted her; it was an undeniable truth. Her flushed chest, the pace of her breathing, the way she chased my fingers with her hips. It all spoke of her desire, but I wouldn’t continue until she admitted it.

She hesitated, but if the little brat was trying to wait for me to give in to our desires first, she would be sorely disappointed.

I waited for eternity for souls to seek passage. I had more patience than any other.

“Touch me.” The words were barely a whisper.

“What was that?”

“I saidtouch me.”

“You’re not very convincing.”

“Gods, Charon, get your hand back on my cunt and make me?—”

Moira’s words cut off with a guttural moan as I plunged my fingers back inside her. One, then two, then three, filling and stretching her wide for me. My thumb pressed against her clit, circling in a pace to match my fingers.

“Fates,” she cried. “Just like that.”

“You will take it how I give it,” I growled.

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