Page 23 of Sweet Obsession

He opens his mouth as if he might keep arguing but ultimately shakes his head. “Of course. Whatever makes you feel the most comfortable.”

It’s a testament to the kind of person he is that he’s still thinking about my comfort instead of his. He might be in my room, offering himself up to me on a silver platter, but if I told him no with any amount of surety, he would turn around and walk away. That knowledge, more than anything, settles any doubt in my mind. “First, we’re going to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

“It’s a short conversation. I’m sure you’ll survive.” I take a step back and marvel at how he shadows my movement, maintaining the careful distance between us but not allowing it to increase. My next inhale makes me feel more like my normal self. “Tomorrow, we’ll have a full discussion on what your limits look like. But for tonight, there are two things I need from you. First is for you to pick a safe word. Are you familiar with the concept?”

His hands open and clench rhythmically at his side. “I am easily twice the size as you are, Icarus. I could stop you anytime I want.”

“Probably.” I shrug. “But I won’t touch you again without a safe word. It’s required for this kind of play, and whether you’re strong or not, I need the assurance that you’ll use it. You might be something of my enemy, but that doesn’t mean I want to harm you.”

He frowns at me as if I’ve said something revolutionary. Which part? Us being enemies? Or that I don’t want to harm him? My chest pangs at the idea that maybe his past lovers haven’t taken care of him. That maybe they took advantage of this big man and his too-big heart.

Finally, he gives a jerky nod. “Trident. It’s as good a word as any.”

“That will do.” A thrum of excitement goes through me. This is truly happening. It’s something I want for calculated purposes, but it’s also something I just flat-out want. Ever since I kissed him, ever since his knees fuckingbuckledfrom the tiniest bit of hair pulling, I’ve spent more time thinking about my captor than I have about escape. He’s so reactive. I have to wonder what else he’ll react to, what else I can do to draw out those delicious whimpers. I’m at a buffet of delights and I don’t know where to start first.

I take a slow breath and try to marshal my thoughts. “The second question I have for you is, what do you need from me? Be explicit, Poseidon. I want no confusion between us.”

His exhale shudders through his entire body. “I don’t want to think anymore. I don’t want to worry anymore. I don’t want to keep pretending I have the answers. Even if it’s only for a little while.” He sinks slowly to his knees before me, his amber eyes desperate. “Hurt me. Fuck me. Do whatever you want. As long as I don’t have to think anymore.”

My mouth works, but no words come out. That’s hardly any guidance at all. The amount of trust he’s putting in me, even if he is larger, is absolutely absurd. I could harm him. I could fuckingkillhim. And it’s almost as if he’d welcome it. I knew I was playing a dangerous game when I embarked on this attempted seduction, butPoseidon just raised the stakes and then offered me his throat.

I’m not certain I could ever deserve his trust…but there’s a small, quiet part of me thatwantsto.

I force myself still. There’s a proper way to do things, and it’s not falling on him like a ravenous beast. That would be fun for both of us, but it’s not what he’s asking me for. I draw in a careful, steady breath. Well, a mostly steady breath. “Take off your shirt and pants and then return to your knees.”

His relief is written all over his handsome face. His shoulders sag, and he scrambles to his feet and hurries to obey my command. His shirt and pants end up in a pile at his feet, and he dips his thumbs into the band of his underwear, but I shake my head. “Leave them on.” I should be taking advantage of everything he’s giving me, but there’s still a part of me hesitating.

Poseidon sinks to his knees and places his hands on his meaty thighs. He truly is a specimen to be marveled at. He’s so fucking thick in every part of his body that I just want to take a bite out of him. His freckles extend down his broad chest and over his barrel stomach, accompanied by a smattering of hair the same color as his beard. I’ve never found freckles so fascinating before, but I want to use them to write my name and tattoo it across his chest.

Wait. No. Damn it,no. This isn’t permanent. He doesn’t care about me, and I certainly don’t care about him. We’re captive and captor, and he should havemeon my knees, begging. To stand before him like this, with him watching me with pleading in those amber eyes, is beyond comprehension. What is he thinking?

But he’s asked me for escape, and escape is one thing I know how to do.

“Place your hands on the footboard. Don’t move them.” I watch as he shifts awkwardly to the foot of the bed to follow my command. He’s tall enough that he’s not fully bent over, but it will still work just as well. I move to his side and now, only now, do I allow myself to touch him. I trail my fingers down his spine. He tenses in response, but when I simply keep stroking him gently, his head eventually falls forward, baring the back of his neck to me.

He has freckles everywhere. I don’t know why I find that so charming, but I sure as fuck do. I want to trace the path of them with my tongue, with my fingers, with other things. Not tonight. Maybe not ever. I can’t afford to be focused on the future, not when he’s relying on me.

He’s big enough, strong enough, that it would be nice to have a flogger or a paddle, but he’s also new at this, so an open hand will do. I shift closer and stroke down his back to the top of his underwear. His muscles flex against my fingertips. Gods, he’s shaking and I’ve barely touched him. “I’m going to spank you now.”

His whole body shudders at my words. “Please. Do it.”

I take a moment to allow myself amazement that this man apparently hasn’t engaged in kink when he’s obviously primed for it. I don’t know what it means that I’m his first. A surge of possessiveness nearly takes me to my knees. Another feeling I have no right to. Poseidon is my enemy. I have to keep reminding myself of that fact. If there was a choice between me and his beloved city, he would throw me to the wolves without hesitation.

But he’s here now. Trusting me to give him what he needs. Opening himself up and exposing all his vulnerable bits.

The overwhelming urge to spank him until he wears my bruises for days afterward, to mark him as mine, shudders my breath out. I don’t know where that came from, but I’m not about to indulge it. He’s not mine. He never will be.

Except for right now. For tonight.

“Remember your safe word. Use it if you need to.” I hook my fingers into the band of his underwear and pull it down over his round ass. Freckles here, too.Gods. Before I can sink to my knees and take a bite out of him for real, I bring my hand down on the top of his ass. I don’t try to hit him with all my strength; this is more a test of what he’s looking for. Of what he needs.

Even knowing that he asked for this, even knowing that he’s fully consenting, I’m still shocked to my core when he lets out a moan I feel in my bones. A moanIcaused.Holy fuck.

I press one hand to the center of his back, where I will be able to feel every bit of his reaction to every blow. Then I bring my free hand down on his other ass cheek. There’s a trick to this, to the steady pacing, not so quick to rush things, slow enough that he can feel the full sting and blossoming of pain from every strike, so that he has a chance to protest if he needs to.

But he doesn’t. Every time I spank him, he lets loose one of those delicious moans that I want to eat with a spoon. I keep going, alternating sides and rhythm so he can never quite anticipate or brace against the bloom of pain. His ass reddens beautifully, drowning out the freckles there. It makes my mouth water and my cock hard. I can almost—almost—feel exactly how good it would be to sink into him, to have the heat of his reddened ass against my pelvis as he clenches around my cock.

---