Page 9 of Learn My Lesson
Hercules’s confusion becomes something akin to horror as Meg slips out from beneath him and walks toward me. “No. What are you doing? Stop it.”
She looks almost guilty as she sinks to her knees by my side, but while Meg might entertain herself by fighting me, she loves being mine—even with how complicated our relationship has become, how tangled our history. I lay my hand on her dark hair because I know it will infuriate him and incite every protective instinct he has. “Good girl.”
Hercules still looks like he’s been hit by a train. “I’m going to need you to explain what the fuck is going on.” This man was built for what knighthood was supposed to be hundreds of years ago. A paragon of self-righteousness, a force for good. When I realized he’d left the relative safety of Olympus and come to Carver City, I began watching him, determined to see for myself if he truly is his father’s son. To my amusement, I found him to be the exact opposite.
When faced with a helpless creature, he will invariably turn himself inside out in order to offer protection. The trick is convincing him that Meg is helpless, a trait she’s never possessed.
“A mere game, I’m afraid.” I keep stroking her hair. “It amuses me to send my Meg to fuck other people, and so I sent her to seduce you. Really, I would think the situation is self-explanatory.”
“You made her fuck me?” The betrayal in his eyes is a living thing, quickly followed by fury and… Ah, there it is. The desire to save her from the devil who stands over her. Really, it’s too easy, as simple as lining up the dominoes and tipping the first one over.
I ignore his question because I know it will infuriate him further. “Get dressed, love.” I turn my attention to the boy. Oh, he’s not really a boy. He’s a man, even if he still has an aura of innocence about him. He has the look of his father, both in coloring and in features. I wonder what Zeus would say if he knew my plans, and I barely hold back a smile imagining his rage.
All in good time.
Meg dresses quickly and runs her fingers through her hair. She still looks like she’s been fucked within an inch of her life, but she’s halfway presentable by the time she rises and takes my hand. I bring our laced fingers to my lips and press a soft kiss to her knuckles. “You please me.”
Her smile is pained, and she can’t help shooting a look at Hercules. Does she even realize how much this man calls to her? There are submissives aplenty in the Underworld, but innocents are a far rarer occurrence. When this is all over, my Meg will thank me for the lengths I go to for her. If there’s another motivation contributing to the decision to pick this person? Well, I am who I am.
She finally drags her gaze back to me. “Thank you, Sir.”
I lead her out the door and down the stairs, and she follows like a good, obedient little sub. I know it’s coming, and I almost relish the way she lays into me the second we slide into the back of the town car.
“What the fuck, Hades?”
“You’re welcome for what appears to be a most satisfying gift.”
Her glare can’t completely diminish the way she practically glows after her time with him. “What was that little song and dance afterward about? You acted like you own me. You rubbed it in his face. That’s not part of our game.”
I’m not ready to discuss my plans. Meg can be as ruthless as any territory leader in this city, but she’s got a soft streak for strays. “I do own you.”
“Hades, you’re such an asshole sometimes.”
I grab the back of her neck and tow her over my lap. “I give you leeway, Meg. I indulge you.”
“Damn it, let me go!”
I shove up her dress and deliver two hard smacks to her ass. “Tell me your safe word.” When she doesn’t immediately respond, I shove two fingers deep into her pussy. She’s still drenched from her orgasms and Hercules’s mouth. If I spread her wide, will I taste him there? My cock hardens even further at the thought.
I have to close my eyes and fight for control. Soon. Very soon. “Tell me.”
“Cerberus,” she mutters.
“That’s right. Cerberus.” I press hard on her inner wall, just like she loves, and she writhes for me. “The safe word you neglected to use once during our little game. You wanted to fuck the golden boy, and you wanted me to watch, and when I told you to come, you orgasmed all the harder for how filthy it made you feel. I know you, Meg. I know your body and your soul. You may play the martyr for the public, but you don’t get to play it with me.”?2
“I hate you,” she sobs even as she spreads her thighs wider to give me better access. It’s always like this with us. Always a fight to the finish, and even in the soft aftermath of fucking, we still jostle each other with power games.
“No, you don’t. I give you what you need. Remember that, even when you’re getting starry-eyed over a waiter.” Hercules is hardly just a waiter, but that fact is immaterial in the face of this conversation. We’ve taken our first step to reclaiming what we once had, even if I have to drag Meg along with me inch by inch. “Tell me thank you for the spectacular gift I gave you tonight.”
She pants and writhes, but she’s not really fighting to get free. She’s struggling solely so I’ll hold her down and bend her to my will. I spank her again with my free hand. Once. Twice. A third time. “Now, Meg.”
“Thank you, Sir.” The words come out as if a curse.
“Good girl.” I topple her onto the back seat and move to kneel on the floorboard. “You performed marvelously. Would you like your reward?”
She bites her bottom lip like she wants to tell me to fuck off again out of sheer perversity, but desire overcomes all else. At the end of the night, I’ve given her exactly what she needs and she knows it. Meg pulls her dress up higher. “Yes, Sir. I would love my reward now.”
“That’s what I thought.” I smooth a hand down her stomach and part her pussy with my fingers. She’s pink and swollen from what she’s done. I pin her in place and drag the flat of my tongue over her. Meg lets loose a whimper and reaches behind her to grab the headrest.
