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separatist-apologist · 2 years

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We Never Go Out Of Style

Could end in burning flames or paradise

Summary: When Gwyn breaks up with her boyfriend on the eve of Nesta's destination wedding, Nesta Archeron has only one objective: set Gwyn up with her high school crush.

Note: Based on this tweet from @heathermcwrites: "One of my bridesmaids just broke up with her bf who was supposed to come to my wedding & I was sad for her for about 3 seconds until I remembered that her crush will also be at the wedding (single) and I'm now more committed to this 2nd chance romance than to my own marriage."

"I should also note that this is a destination wedding so there are EVEN MORE opportunities for uh…shenanigans"

Read More: Chapter 1 | AO3

Gwyn woke to the wheels of the plane jolting on the runway. Her face was plastered against the plastic wall just beside the window and her whole body was still from leaning at such an odd angle. She stretched out her legs and turned to see Azriel slumped over, head on his shoulder, arms crossed against his chest. For one blissful moment, Gwyn forgot what they’d done in that bathroom. She was back in high school, admiring the man beside her.

The plane bounced again and she was reminded when her body clenched around the phantom feel of his cock thrusting into her. Oh God. She’d had sex in an airplane bathroom with a stranger. And she hadn’t even been drunk. What was wrong with her?

Azriel opened one hazel eye and then the other, rubbing them with the heel of his hand. He stretched, looking over at a practically vibrating Nesta and a barely awake Cassian. He looked over at her and blinked, a slow smile creeping over his face. He was remembering too. In the light of the new day, Gwyn wondered if she hadn’t made a horribly impulsive mistake.

There was no time to discuss it with him. The minute all the lights went off on the aircraft, everyone was in the aisles grabbing their things.

Azriel grabbed her bag and kept the rising swell of people trying to shove past from trapping her in her chair. Gwyn’s eyes settled on his arms, still covered in tattoos, and wondered absently what they meant. She’d never found out, hadn’t thought to ask last night when his tongue had been in her throat.

She shook her head, grabbed her suitcase, and made her way down the ramp. Azriel kept pace, courtesy of his much longer legs. He said nothing at all—he merely followed Cassian’s bulky frame through the half empty airport. It was here that Emerie finally caught up with Gwyn, all but slamming into her back. Emerie flung her arm over Gwyn’s shoulder.

“Did you get any sleep?” she asked. Gwyn panicked for a moment as Azriel glanced over, letting them fall behind.

“A little,” she admitted. “My neck is wrecked, though.”

“Same,” Emerie admitted. “How are you doing?”

Ah, hell. Gwyn smiled and told her friend, “I’m fine. I swear.”

“It’s just…everyone is coupled up and…” Emerie trailed off awkwardly.

“I’m fine,” Gwyn insisted, pulling out her passport. She was better than fine, given she’d had sex six hours earlier to the man walking four feet ahead of her.

“Well, I’m not gonna ditch you. And I heard Lucien talking earlier, apparently this island is big enough that a lot of people stay at the resort. So there will be all kinds of opportunities for shenanigans. If you want them, anyway.”

Great.

Gwyn smiled. Emerie was so nice, was her best friend. She cared. She also didn’t know that Gwyn was lying about Jonathon for purely selfish reasons. She swallowed, her guilt pricking in her stomach. She was saved by the line pushing her forward. Gwyn collected her passport stamp at the same time Nesta did.

“Hey,” Nesta said with a breathless smile. “Can I ask a favor? Do you mind swapping rooms with Elain and Lucien?”

“What’s wrong with their room?”

“Nothing,” Nesta said easily, looking over her shoulder, likely for Cassian. “It’s just, when I booked yours I sort of assumed Jonathon was thinking about proposing so I wanted it to be extra romantic—”

“Oh,” she interrupted. “Yeah, no, they can have it.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip. “You don’t mind? Theirs shares a door with another room but as long as you keep it closed you won’t have to interact with them.”

“Who is on the other side?”

Nesta offered an apologetic smile. “Azriel. When I set it all up, he said he didn’t mind and Elain and Lucien waited until the last minute to get back to me so—”

“That’s fine,” Gwyn replied, unsure if she was being honest or not. She certainly didn’t want to be in a room that was so ridiculously romantic all she could think about was Jonathon…and at the same time, Gwyn wasn’t sure sharing a door with Azriel was smart, either.

“Elain’s going to be so excited. Thank you for this. I know it’s a lot–”

“It’s nothing,” Gwyn promised as Emerie came up, beaming at Nesta. “I want this to be a perfect two weeks for you.”

“Miss getting married,” Emerie added, the three falling into step. For a moment they said nothing at all, drinking in the glass window pouring in warm sunlight and the scuffed linoleum beneath their feet.

“I’m getting married!” Nesta exclaimed loud enough that passersby all turned to look. Gwyn and Emerie grinned, well aware that it had taken a full decade to get to this moment. Gwyn glanced over her shoulder to Cassian, talking to Azriel quietly though his eyes were on Nesta. They were always on Nesta, always had been. What was it like for him, she wondered? If Nesta was excited, how did Cassian feel? He’d been in love with her as long as she’d know him.

It took forever to collect their suitcases from baggage claim and Gwyn was once again reminded that having a bright colored suitcase spared her from having to lift every black one like Cassian and Rhys did. Elain had done the same with a pink and purple floral pattern Lucien grabbed almost instantly. It was just smart.

“I’ll take that,” Azriel said, grabbing the handle of her larger back so she didn’t have to drag two behind her. Those were the first words he’d said since they’d landed.

“You don’t have to,” she breathed. She’d forgotten how deep his voice was, made worse when it was rough from sleep.

“I know,” he scoffed, following Cassian out of the sliding doors. Eris had arranged for a van to pick them all up—another hour long drive to the dock, and then a forty five minute boat ride from the mainland to the island. Gwyn was exhausted just thinking about it.

“You look dead on your feet,” Azriel added with one arched brow. She looked up, surprised to see that at this angle, there was a tattoo creeping from beneath his shirt over his neck. She hadn’t noticed before, but the whorling black ink looked nice against the warm brown of his skin. All of it—from his slightly stained fingers to the tattoos gracing so much of his skin, to his casual hair flopped in his bright eyes—gave him an aura of danger.

She could admit it was nice when Azriel hauled her bags into the back of the massive, white van. All Gwyn had to do was pick a seat, settling herself between Nesta and Gwyn right in the back. Mor clambered back with them, nervous beside Emerie. There was some weird history between her and Nesta that Gwyn didn’t know about, though it made her suspicious all the same. She wanted to support Emerie and she also didn’t want one wrong thing happening during Nesta’s wedding.

If it bothered Nesta, she didn’t say. She put her head on Gwyn’s shoulder while the rest of their group loaded in. They weren’t the only ones who were exhausted. Elain and Feyre all but stumbled up, helped by Lucien, his hair pulled off his face in a messy bun. Rhys’s eyes were smudged purple and when he plopped into his seat, the whole van rocked a little. Only Cassian and Azriel seemed like they were doing alright.

“Group nap when we get there?” Nesta called once the doors shut.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Lucien agreed from the front, his arm around both Feyre and Elain.

Gwyn didn’t fall asleep, but she didn’t participate in the alphabet game with Cassian and Rhys and Lucien, either. Her eyes felt heavy and when they stopped at the docks and realized they’d have to wait a full half hour before the boat arrived, she understood why toddlers so often threw themselves on the pavement and screamed.

The air was warm, the sun bright, and the town they stood in was exactly how she imagined. Narrow, cobblestone streets were lined with houses built centuries before. Draped in leafy vines and bright colored awnings, it was all old world charm. The air was salty and maybe a little fishy, but had the distinct scent of citrus laced beneath it. She itched to explore. She’d have to ask if they could take the ferry back and forth or if they were bound to the island the whole time.

The boat came and Azriel wordlessly continued carrying her bag, much to the approval of Nesta.

“Az is being nice,” she murmured to Gwyn, unaware of just how nice Az had been. “I saw he sat with you on the plane.”

“I asked him to,” Gwyn admitted, climbing the steps to the rocking boat. “I needed someone to block you and Cassian sucking face for nine hours.”

Nesta laughed. “You didn’t catch us try and join the mile high club,” she all but whispered. “The stewardess was all over that. She sent me back to my seat before I even got halfway there.”

“I wonder if someone else tried it first,” Gwyn pretended to muse as she gripped the metal railing of the boat. Nesta shrugged.

“It’s probably a shitty place to have sex, anyway.”

Gwyn didn’t respond to that. She’d come on that bathroom sink for the first time in months. It wasn’t that Jonathon was necessarily bad at sex—he knew how to get her off. It was that he was lazy and too often didn’t want to do any of the work that was required in order for her to enjoy herself, too. Sex too often felt like a negotiation, a constant disappointment when he’d come and then promise to make up for it next time.

There were hundreds of little IOUs like that, all disregarded. She gripped the railing tighter, suddenly irritated that Azriel had spent more time trying to get her off without even asking, all in service of a very quick fuck while Jonathon had years.

She pulled her phone out, annoyed to see three missed texts from him.

You’re being immature. Call me, please?

Did you land safely? I’m worried about you. Call me, please.

This is especially low for you, Gwyneth. Call me so I know you’re okay.

He’d been doing it ever since she left, begging and demanding she call. Gwyn knew what happened if she did—he’d immediately reshift the focus back to the breakup so he could argue with her endlessly. Jonathan thought he could logic his way back into their relationship. That she’d merely panicked when he mentioned marriage and he could calm her back down.

It was, frankly, insulting.

They arrived on the most gorgeous island Gwyn had ever seen. Sparkling water lapped against undisturbed white sand and the resort itself had been built to look like the village they’d just come from. Greenery draped over the sprawling sandstone and Gwyn suspected the mosaiced white and blue tile floors were meant to evoke something distinctly Roman.

Eris Vanserra was waiting inside in a breezy white shirt utterly unbuttoned. He watched them step into the lobby with narrowed eyes, his hair an exact match for Lucien’s. The beautiful, tall blonde beside him squealed when she saw Elain and Gwyn assumed that was how Nesta had ended up here without having to pay for it. Elain had pulled major strings—or her husband had. Either way, no one said one word to Eris as he checked them in and passed out room keys.

They were villas, so expensive that when Nesta was told the final price she blanched. Eris said nothing at all, a sunburned arm hanging off his chattering wife. They looked refreshed but Gwyn was looking forward to falling face first onto a mattress and slipping into oblivion.

112

She took her bags from Azriel who offered a tight smile, and made her way back out in the brilliant, sunlit courtyard. A huge marble statue poured water into more blue tile, shaded by lovely trees bearing limes that Gwyn could reach up and grab. She didn’t have hands for it, so instead she rolled her bags over the sidewalk until she reached her door.

Azriel was just behind, frowning as he looked at his key.

“One twelve?” he asked.

Gwyn had to double check. “Yeah. Nesta asked me to swap with Elain and Lucien.”

There were two doors right next to each other, labeled 112A and 112B, but her key just said 112. She pressed it against the sensor and it clicked open. Both her and Az stepped into the dark, air conditioned foyer and understood instantly what Nesta must not have. The “door” connecting their rooms, set against the far left wall, merely opened his bedroom into the kitchen and living room.

“Ah…” Azriel began, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m sure Nesta didn’t realize,” Gwyn breathed, heart pounding in her chest. She left her things in the open living room, ignoring that there was a literal hot tub on the balcony they shared overlooking the ocean, for the other bedroom.

The one she’d just walked into was a small double but this was massive, something bigger than a king draped in pretty white linen and framed with a black headboard. It had an attached bathroom with a couples skin and another jetted bathtub.

“I’ll take the other—”

“We’ll share,” he scoffed. “Nesta’s fuck up works in our favor.”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she said, earning a raised eyebrow. “Lucien Vanserra promised a group nap.”

He shrugged off his bag. “As long as you’re in the same bed as me, I don’t care what you do.”

Gwyn swallowed.

How could she argue with that?

AZRIEL:

Gwyn passed out almost immediately on the white and turquoise sheets but for Az, he thought the best way to deal with jetlag was to suffer through the day and sleep at night. Cassian would be at the bar and Rhys too, if they were lucky. Rhys, for all the messing around he did with the youngest Archeron, was also single which meant he and Azriel could get in a little trouble if they wanted.

Inside the main lobby, branching from where they’d checked in, was a bar and a restaurant. Cassian was already waiting in a breezy hawaiian shirt and board shorts while beside him Rhys had opted to go shirtless. It was working for him—a group of women a good decade older than him were eyeing Rhys with interest.

“Took you long enough,” Cassian complained, nodding towards the menu of drinks. Az dropped onto the barstool.

“Fuck up with the room kept me. Nesta gave me and Gwyn the same room.”

“Ah, shit,” was Cassian’s only response. “Want me to talk to her about it? I know she’s stressed—”

“No, don’t bother her. There are enough beds.”

“But does the door lock, or is Gwyn gonna see you fucking constantly?”

Azriel met Rhys’s stare. “It has a locked door.”

Cassian and Rhys nodded, no longer interested in his messed up room. Azriel wasn’t disappointed at all. In fact, as far as he could tell, Nesta had done him a massive favor. He wouldn’t have to explain what he was doing in her villa when he inevitably got caught. Now he could stroll in and out, hair fucked up, dick still wet and no one would think it was strange.

All he wanted to do was fuck her again. He’d been dreaming about it on the plane, had thought of little else on the drive over. Now she was in the bed he very much intended to share with her, face down in a pillow, snoring slightly.

Azriel let Cassian order a margarita for him, refocusing on the conversation. Not everything was about pussy and Azriel was hardly hurting for it. He and Rhys took a drink at the same time, noses wrinkled when that tequila all but smacked them in the face.

“Oh shit,” Rhys grinned. “This tastes like bad decisions.”

“Don’t get shit faced on night one,” Cassian grumbled. “Wait until tomorrow when I can participate.”

“Nesta keeping the leash tight?”

Cassian’s eyes tightened. There was no love lost between Rhys and Nesta—and Cassian would fight about it. Nesta didn’t know but Azriel did given he had sided with Cassian in the ugliest fight the three of them ever had. You didn’t come between a man and his girl and there was nothing wrong with Nesta to start with. Rhys didn’t like she’d let Cassian hang on, but Cassian could have walked away at any point. He wanted to stay.

Just like Rhys was doing with Feyre, though Azriel supposed the irony was lost on him.

“She wants to be together,” Cassian told Rhys, his whole body tense. Waiting for some shitty remark that would fuck this whole thing up. Rhys took another drink.

“Makes sense. Think she’ll be mad if we go to the beach early? Just to see?”

“Probably,” Cassian hedged, one leg sliding to the floor. “But only if she knows, so keep your big fucking mouth shut.”

Both Azriel and Rhys mimed zipping their lips. It was practically old times, trailing after Cassian knowing they were up to no good. A thrill raced through Azriel, even if the thrill was merely not getting caught by Nesta.

Azriel regretted not changing the minute his tennis shoes hit the sand. He scrambled, kicking out of them knowing full well the sand would remain forever, yanked off his shirt, and trailed after Cassian and Rhys into the bath water warm ocean. They were still holding their margaritas, floating in the crystal water beneath a fading afternoon sun.

“This is perfect, I almost don’t even care it was a Vanserra who paid for it,” Cassian groaned, reclining his head just in time for a wave to splash against him.

“Forty fucking thousand dollars,” Rhys said gleefully. “What does Elain have on him?”

“Apparently she introduced him to his wife,” Cassian told them. “And he’s real soft for her. Better his money than mine. I couldn’t afford this shit.”

“Is he going to hang around the whole time?” Azriel asked. Something about the Vanserra’s just rubbed him the wrong way.

“We invited him,” Cassian said ruefully. “It’ll keep Elain and Lucien busy.”

Rhys nodded, eyes wide as if to say thank god.

“I saw them on the balcony.” Cassian cringed, telling them all exactly what had been happening out there. Rhy’s eyes went wide with distaste while Azriel merely shook his head. How embarrassing seemed to be the general consensus, though it would have been a little bit of a lie to say Azriel wasn’t jealous. Maybe a little.

Maybe he envied what they had—what Nesta and Cassian had—more than he was ever willing to admit. He kept swearing he was content with work and his hook-ups but there were nights when the loneliness wore on him. When he wished he could text someone and not immediately get a shot of tits as the response. His friends didn’t get it. Well, maybe Rhys did, at any rate. He had that same faraway look on his face.

No one was right and if they were, they didn’t want him. It had always been that way. Any woman he went after wasn’t interested—Rhysand’s cousin Morrigan (though as it turned out, he wasn’t her type because he wasn’t a woman—and Elain Archeron, not counting a few others afterwards, sporadic people he met who wanted something more, something different, something else.

It was easier to close himself off, to guard himself so carefully no one could get close. It didn’t mean he’d stopped wanting it, it only meant Azriel was too afraid to try. It was on his mind as he plodded back to the room he was now sharing with Gwyn and hoped, if nothing else, she was awake.

Gwyn was both awake and had clearly just showered, if the wafting floral scent curling through the humid air was any indication. Azriel was drenched and knew he likely smelled like salt water and sunlight. Hopefully it wasn’t a bad combination, though he smelled under his arms as he padded into the bedroom, just to be safe.

She was in a pair of tiny blue shorts and a white tank top so tight she might as well be wearing nothing at all. Azriel halted in the doorway, drinking in the long, wet strands of her hair, her freshly washed face and how fucking pretty she was without a stitch of make-up on. Her body was hot, lithe and curved and lean exactly how he liked it. Gwyn’s teal eyes were staring down at her phone, thumbs typing out a furious message.

“Rough day, baby?” he teased, drawing her attention back to him. Gwyn looked over, dropping her phone as she did a double take. He smothered a smile, running a hand down his naked torso.

That was the reaction he was hoping for. He quite liked the naked appreciation on her face.

“Is no one treating you right?”

“Shut up,” she replied, cheeks flushed. “Where have you been?”

He shrugged. “Pool.” He didn’t want her to tell Nesta and get Cassian in trouble.

“I didn’t know the pool was so sandy,” she commented, eyes drifting towards his shins. Azriel was caught, though he said nothing that confirmed or denied her accusation. He merely nodded towards the phone at her feet.

“Who’re you texting?”

Her face darkened. “No one.”

“What did he say?” Azriel wasn’t stupid.

“He just wants to talk,” she said, throwing her hands up in the air with exasperation. “He thinks I’m being irrational.”

“So?” Azriel replied. “What if you were? What would that change?”

She bit her bottom lip. “Then he could address my feelings and we’d get back together.”

He didn't understand. “But…you don’t want to be together.”

“Right.” She was agreeing with him, and yet looking at him like he was the one who didn’t make sense. Azriel frowned, wondering what he was missing.

“That’s a reason.”

“Yes, I agree. He doesn’t.”

Oh. Oh. “That’s fucking stupid,” Azriel declared, earning a smile from Gwyn. Back on track, though, she was still standing too close to the sliding glass doors that led to the balcony and now close enough to the bed where he wanted to spread her out.

“Yeah, well, tell him that.”

“Okay,” he agreed, lunging for her phone. Gwyn wasn’t quick enough, fumbling as he snatched it from the floor and opened up the screen of her, Nesta, and Emerie grinning at the camera. The image of her sultry make-up and her slightly smudged lipstick was immediately burned into his brain, traveling down his spine to live in his cock. Jesus Christ she was hot.

He read the wall of text Jonathon sent with a frown and Gwyn curiously let him. Well–Azriel skimmed it.

-Just make it make sense to me, I don’t understand–

-We were happy and then suddenly you changed your mind, tell me what you were thinking–

–Is this about that retreat in SoHo because–

“What happened in SoHo?” Azriel couldn’t help but ask as he invited Jonathon to play a game of 8ball.

“He says another woman kissed him and she says he kissed her,” Gwyn told him, shame coloring her cheeks. “I don’t know why she’d lie about it.”

“What’s he look like?” Azriel demanded, opening her photos and fuck was he accidentally rewarded with a picture of her tits a mere eight squares up. Hidden between the endless memes she had saved, Gwyn had snapped them from a bedroom, knees tucked beneath her body, dressed only in a lacy, strappy red thong.

“Pervert,” she hissed, snatching her phone out of his hand.

“Send that to me,” was all Azriel could think to reply. Why was he talking to her when she was badly needed to be fucked again? Gwyn rolled her eyes, thumb scrolling until she found a picture.

Azriel laughed.

It was a picture of her and another man sitting at a rounded table draped in a white cloth. Clearly at some kind of fancy event, given the sexy, silky green dress all but painted on Gwyn. Her tits were pushed up, her face immaculate. Auburn hair was swept back, her teal eyes tight. Despite her smile, she didn’t look like she was having a ton of fun. Beside her, the reedy, sandy haired brunette had an arm draped around the back of her black chair. He was utterly unremarkable, totally average. Lean and soft, with thin lips and fair skin. His suit seemed ill-fitting and Azriel would have staked his life on Jonathon buying it off the rack. It was complete with a cartoon character printed all over the tie, which made him look goofy as fuck sitting beside the etheral goddess. If Azriel were Jonathon, he’d be miserable too.

“You dated this man?” he scoffed, offering her the phone back. “Was he blackmailing you—”

Gwyn swatted him in the chest. “We met in grad school. He was so interesting back then and I was dealing with the death of my sister…I don’t know. We bonded over late nights and we talked about everything. It changed when he got his PhD and started writing and hanging out with his writer friends…like he was so much smarter and more thoughtful and interesting than the rest of the world. Like what he did mattered and the rest of us were just caught in a rat race. I don’t know. I’m just…I’m tired of hearing endless lectures, I guess.”

“Is that all?” Azriel asked her, both amused and fascinated. C’mon. Tell me something I can work with.

Gwyn, too worked up to realize he was waiting for his moment to pounce, walked across the room to the messy, unmade bed and plopped on the end of it. He was too quick to join her.

“Everything was a negotiation, but in the bad way. There was never consensus and he’d change the rules to suit him but I was always forced to adhere to them or I was unfair. It was chores or whose job was more important or who was more tired or if I got to come when we had sex—”

There it was.

“He wasn’t getting you off?” Azriel asked, zeroing in on that one little fact. Gwyn looked over, realizing how close he was for the first time.

“Uh…no,” she admitted, eyes sliding to his lips.

Good job, baby, he praised silently.

“Tell me,” he murmured, dragging a finger over her bare leg.

“I uh…” she was flushed again. “I need stimulation…”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “Most women do.”

“He didn’t like all the work,” she managed, rushing the words like it embarrassed her to say. “He always talked about his ex who could get off from penetration like I was broken or we could fix it—”

“He didn’t like to eat pussy?” Azriel interrupted, so excited he was practically vibrating. “Is that it?”

She nodded, swallowing hard. Their eyes met.

“I made you a promise,” he reminded her, lips ghosting her own. “Do you remember?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes fluttering shut.

“I love pussy eating, Gwyn,” he told her, kissing her softly.

“What if I need that every time we have sex?” she asked, clearly testing. Azriel groaned, mostly for theatrics, though the thought was intensely appealing to him.

“Lucky me,” he replied, well aware he could get her off with his fingers if they were in a rush. He’d never forget the airplane, if nothing else, though he was hoping to replace it with a million new memories of fucking her before he sent her on her way.

“Az—” he silenced her with a kiss, tasting his name on her lips. She was minty and still sweet, her mouth so absurdly inviting that the moment he had his tongue behind her teeth, he forgot what he was supposed to be doing. She was such a good kisser and Azriel was so fussy about it. Too much tongue or not enough always ruined things for him, as did smacking lips or kissing so tight it felt like he might as well be kissing his grandma. There was a sweet spot between practically spitting in his mouth—which he wasn’t against if the circumstances called for it—and nothing at all and Gwyn so effortlessly managed it that Azriel reveled, if only a little.

She practically crawled in his lap, running her hands over his torso and too late, Azriel remembered he was supposed to be going down on her. He was tempted to say fuck it and bounce her on his cock instead. Had she not just told him her ex didn’t care if she finished, was so selfish with his pleasure that it factored into not wanting to be with him, had Azriel flipping her to the mattress with ease.

“To the pillows,” he murmured, watching her through half-lidded eyes. Gwyn bit her bottom lip, scooting up. As he considered the sight before him, he added, “Top off, baby.”

And fuck if she didn’t yank it over her head, revealing pretty, bouncy tits. His whole body was tighter than a bowstring. Had he known on the plane he would have damned them both demanding she take it off.

Settle down before you fuck this up, he warned himself. It was impossibly hard—both his ability to remain calm at the sight of her nearly barred body and his own cock bobbing between his legs—and yet Azriel managed to get those tiny shorts off her cute ass and onto the floor in record time.

“Pretty, baby,” he murmured, running a hand over the smooth plain of her stomach.

“What a crime, to have you in bed and not eat you out,” he added as he pushed her thighs apart. That neat patch of hair just above her pussy was taunting him. He lowered himself, keeping his shorts on as an added layer of precaution given the way his cock was practically weeping precum.

He buried his nose in that coarse thatch of hair, running his hands up and down her thighs. She was practically panting with anticipation. He knew it wouldn’t take long, that she’d built this up in her mind and he’d have her shaking and whimpering in five minutes flat.

He reached up for one of her breasts, tweaking and rubbing the rosy nipple as he lowered his mouth. Eyes on her, the entire time, both to ensure she was enjoying herself and because he found it personally gratifying, Azriel licked a stripe up her pussy.

Gwyn shuddered, eyes fluttering shut. He couldn’t have that, was immediately worried she was imagining the nerd she’d been dating before.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he said, letting his breath fan against her body. She immediately looked down at him, her lust so apparent in the teal blue that he had to grind himself against the sheets to keep himself together. He already knew he was going to get on his knees and beg to fuck her when this was all over, and pray she told him yes.

He lost himself in the slick glide of her body, feasting on her pussy like a rabid, wild animal. She tasted good, musky and sweet and so absurdly responsive that every little tug on her nipple or suck of her clit had her moaning and arching. She dragged her fingers through his hair, tugging at the strands when she wanted him to go faster, to stay where he was and Azriel would have done anything she asked if it meant she didn’t stop. Would she like it rough? A hand around her neck, his cock brutally pumping in and out of her until they were both sweaty and out of breath?

He wanted to know. Azriel wanted to know everything Gwyn liked in the bedroom. Every depraved fantasy she had that she’d left unfulfilled, every intimate thing she was too afraid to tell someone.

Her thighs trembled against his cheeks, clenching as her hips arched off the bed. She ground herself into his face, coating him in her release. Just like he’d thought—too fast. He’d teach her, he decided.

I have nothing but time, some shadowy part of his mind whispered, unbidden though not unwanted. He had limited time—two weeks. He’d sworn it just twelve hours earlier.

Gwyn shook those thoughts from his head when she pushed him off her. Taking advantage of his stunned thoughts, Azriel found himself pinned to the bed. Her small hands just barely managed to pin his wrists over his head.

“What—”

She kissed him before he could respond, keeping him pinned in place like something from a dream. Azriel turned his brain off, letting himself enjoy the feeling of her dripping pussy against his stomach and her fingers pushing against his arms. Her tongue chased the taste of her own orgasm, tangling with his own until he was delirious.

“I want to suck your cock,” she whispered—or maybe he was trapped in a too real fantasy. Azriel opened his eyes slowly, trying to force his mouth to work. What did she say?

She wants to suck your cock you dumb motherfucker—

“Please,” he begged, unsure what else he could say. He spread his legs as an invitation and Gwyn—sexy, lovely Gwyn—licked down his torso like every fantasy he’d ever had come to life. He was practically vibrating with need when she reached his aching cock. Gwyn ignored it, a taunting smile gracing her lips as she continued between his legs. Azriel groaned, unable to take his eyes off her. He was going to beg if she kept kissing his thighs like she was, if she didn’t—

She licked the long length of him while he was still trying to form his plea. His hips shot off the bed without meaning to, fingers fisting in the sheets beneath him.

“So jumpy,” she teased. “Are you not being sucked properly, Az?”

He didn’t know what to say to that. Was she dirty talking? The best he’d ever gotten was a couple breathy choke me daddy, which while appreciated, had nothing on Gwyn hovering between his legs, holding his cock in her hand while she watched him. Waiting for an answer.

“Let’s find out,” was the only coherent words he could manage. She smirked, as if she had him exactly where she wanted him.

Gwyn licked again, holding his eyes the entire time. He was going to lose his shit if he wasn’t in her throat in the next ten seconds. Azriel was unraveling, coming apart at the seams.

She smiled, lips touching his skin.

“What a crime, to have you in bed and not take the time to properly lick you,” she told him, an echo of his earlier words. “I like how you taste, Az.”

“Gwyn,” he managed, reaching for her hair as she swirled her tongue over the head of his leaking cock. “Baby–”

“Are you going to beg?”

Their eyes met again. He swallowed. “Please,” he rasped.

Her eyes were amused but Azriel didn’t care, not when she sucked half of him into her throat on the very first pass. He was in both heaven and hell with that first slide of her wet, hot mouth. Reborn and made new, Azriel grunted, forcing his hips from fucking her mouth like he so desperately wanted to.

Had he been taunting her in his head, thinking how quickly she’d come? He was no better, practically an untested teen having his first blow job. If someone had sucked him like Gwyn was back then, he would have ended up as a teenage dad, married and with six kids by then.

Gwyn moaned, the sound reverberating through him and Azriel arched his neck, holding onto that bed for dear life. White hot arousal was pooling in his balls, threatening to erupt if he didn’t get his shit together. She was sucking him like her life depended on it, like she lived and died worshiping his cock. She was good at it.

No wonder Jonathon was so desperate to get her back.

“Gwyn,” he breathed, trying to warn her when no amount of clenching could stave off his orgasm. He could feel it barreling through him like a freight train. “Gwyn I’m going to come.”

She was working him with both her mouth and hand, speeding up until he grunted, pushing another inch into her throat without meaning to. Gwyn gagged and yet swallowed everything he offered, the hot pour of come straight into her mouth.

“Come here, come here,” he begged when he was spent, certain she’d take his soul right along with everything else. Azriel kissed her, enjoying the musky taste of her mouth. “Who taught you to suck dick like that?”

“Why?” she asked breathlessly, lips cherry red and swollen.

“So I can thank him,” Azriel replied, kissing her again. She rolled her eyes, stroking up and down his chest.

“You’re ridiculous,” she whispered, settling into the crook of his arm. Azriel gazed down at her, sliding strands of hair off her face. He knew, in that moment, what he needed to do with her.

Some people brought home little trinkets from vacation. Something small—a snow globe, a shirt, a hat. Azriel intended to bring her home. The next two weeks were merely his best argument for why she should let him keep seeing her when they landed stateside again.

He wanted her to belong to him.

#gwynriel #gwynriel fanfic #gwynriel fanfiction #azriel x gwyn #oops i did it again #i made azriel unbearably hot #you know what though #so was gwyn #i apologize for nothing #they were on my mind today

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separatist-apologist · 2 years

Text

If I Bleed, You'll Be The Last To Know

Summary: It was only ever supposed to be a quick kidnapping. Eris Vanserra is an expert at those.

When he sees her tied up in his bed, though...well. Eris redefines what kidnapping means to him.

Set two years before He's Going To Burn This House To The Ground

Read More: AO3

24k words

TW: Extremely dubious consent. Dead dove, do not eat, etc etc. Forced orgasm, anal sex, marriage, dog-parenthood, murder, the usual.

Eris exhaled a breath softly, running his gloved finger over an immaculate dresser. Tick tock, he thought with irritation. Eris hated to wait, especially when he’d spent so long planning something perfect. He was almost tempted to leave, to try another day when he heard the sound of the elevator doors ding to the apartment he stood in.

“Ugh!” came a feminine voice, punctuated by the sound of keys slammed against the counter. She was home. Eris smiled, his heart fluttering in his chest. Fuck, he’d been waiting for her all day. He could picture her, long legs kicking off expensive, high heeled shoes in the foyer before she padded to the kitchen.

Right on cue, the thunking of heavy shoes greeted him. Eris stayed where he was—waiting. The sound of the fridge opening was just like her. She’d pick around for something, forgetting she hadn't gone to the store again. She snapped it shut with another heavy sigh.

The sound of her nails clicking on her phone as she rifled through mail only heightened Eris’s excitement. Any moment and she’d come join him, would step into the same room where he’d been waiting. He wanted to see her.

Arina Novak was magnificent. Even Eris, a prince of the city, could admit that. She wasn’t like him. Vanserra wealth came from centuries of capitalism while hers came from some app her father developed twenty years earlier. Novak was practically a household name now—everyone had one of their smart devices. Everyone but his daughter, of course. Arina had an Alexa, not that she used it for anything but music. A waste, in his opinion.

The bedroom door pushed open and there she was. Beautiful, with her thick, buttery blonde hair. She’d left it in its natural state, the waves tumbling around her golden face. Piercing green eyes swept through the room, her hand still holding her phone. She flopped onto her large bed, wrinkling the perfect sage cover. Her black dress rode up over toned, slim thighs until Eris could practically see what was beneath.

“I’m canceling my date tonight,” she said to the ceiling, tossing her phone to one of the massive pillows. “I’m tired of these fucking men.”

Eris didn’t respond to that, though he hardly counted himself among those fucking men. They could always talk about it later. Eris was struck, besides, when she sat up and began unzipping her dress, revealing miles of bronzed skin. For a moment he forgot to speak entirely. She could have modeled. Why didn’t she? Why did she spend her days drinking and shopping and hanging out with the most vapid group of friends he’d ever witnessed?

Why was she planning a date at one am? Eris watched her pad across the room towards the bathroom, hands reaching behind her to unhook her bra. “Don’t do that,” he murmured, catching her by surprise as he stepped from the closet. Arina spun, eyes wide, just in time for Eris to press his rag against her face.

Mossy green eyes went wide. They reminded him of the forest house his father had built when he was a boy and the woods he’d once loved running through. Eris would take her there, he decided once she stopped fighting him. Arina gave in easily, opening her mouth to scream into the rag. No one heard her, not in her isolated little apartment. Not when the fabric and the leather muffled her voice.

Limp, Eris set her onto her bed and took his time picking out a nice, white dress that would look good on camera. He packed up a few things she might need—toiletries, make-up, underwear. He came across a particularly fascinating vibrator tucked up beneath her socks and tossed that in there, too, though he wasn’t sure what he meant to do with it.

Kidnapping the daughters and wives of the elite when their patriarchs refused to tithe to the Vanserra’s was the easiest way to make a couple million dollars. Daughters were easier than wives and Arina was easier than most. No boyfriend, no friends who checked in, no roommate. Her routine varied day to day but Eris could always count on her returning and returning alone.

Zipping her up in a dress nice enough for church, Eris always draped his jacket over her torso, slung the expensive purse over his shoulder, and hefted her body into his arms. She weighed nothing to him even as dead weight, her head lolled against his chest. Eyes closed as if she were asleep. If anyone looked at them—and he very much doubted they would—Eris merely looked like he carried his very drunk girlfriend to bed.

In a way, they weren’t wrong.

No one paid him any mind in the service elevator. Camera’s disabled for a glitchy moment allowed him to slip out the back and deposit the Novak heiress into his drunk before driving away. It took all of a minute, if that. The jump would be noticeable if Novak called the cops, of course…but only an idiot would risk his daughter's life like that.

Zipping through the emptied streets, Eris dialed the brother he liked the best.

“It’s one in the morning, Eris,” Lucien complained, groggy from sleep or alcohol. Eris couldn’t tell.

“I’m leaving the city for the weekend. Got Novak’s daughter.”

Lucien paused. “How much?”

“I asked him for two originally…so lets say ten, for my time and trouble,” Eris replied, earning a chuckle from Lucien. “I’m taking her to the Forest House. Keep your brothers from fucking up too much. I don’t want to have to come back to another fucking gang war.”

“Yeah, alright,” Lucien grumbled. “Putting off the inevitable with Nolan.”

“I’ll worry about him later. Right now, focus on a little easy cash and a weekend without me breathing down your neck.” Lucien was silent for a moment. “Let me know if you need anything.”Eris ended the call thinking the only thing he’d need Lucien for was a pair of broken knees or a little arson.

Hardly the methods necessary for one little hostage.

ARINA:

Arina woke to a pounding headache. “Oh, God,” she groaned, aware of a scratchy heat against her wrists. Opening her eyes, Arina realized two things right off the bat—both wrists were bound over her head and a camera was pointing directly at her.

“Oh good,” came a smooth, masculine voice. Arina twisted, noting she was wearing the dress she’d bought for the ten year anniversary of her mothers death. She hadn’t put it on, had meant to, had planned a whole day where she finally went to that gravestone and said goodbye.

He’d cut off the tags. She didn’t look at him as she marveled at that. It had taken an actual kidnapping to get her to wear that stupid fucking dress. Arina swore if she survived whatever happened next, she’d drive out to her mothers grave and say what she ought to have a decade before.

He crouched at the end of the bed, this man she didn’t know. Her first stupid thought was how handsome he was. Fair skinned and chiseled in a classic sort of way, he looked like he wouldn’t be out of place in a fairytale with the slope of his cheekbones and the sharp cut of his jaw. Full lips and amber eyes cut nicely with his auburn hair pushed off his face as if he’d caught the perfect wind.

He wore an expensive suit. She could spot that a mile away. Nice cologne, a fancy hair cut, designer watch. The man oozed wealth without being flashy about it. He had style. It was hard to find that, she thought.

“Why am I here?” Arina asked, willing herself to remain calm. No mask, no attempt to conceal his identity. She didn’t know who he was, though she’d seen enough crime shows to know he’d probably kill her when this was all over.

“You and I are going to make a little movie.”

Her blood ran cold. He ran a finger over her cheek, tilting her chin towards the camera at the end of the bed. “You’re going to put on your saddest expression and beg daddy to rescue you and then I’m going to tell him I’ll kill you if he doesn’t.”

Arina’s breath caught in her throat. “You’re holding me for ransom?”

“Not your first rodeo?” he guessed, rising to his feet. Tall. Muscular. Deadly. How did she convince this man to let her go? Arina would have to be careful.

“Are you asking if I get kidnapped often?” she scoffed, catching the way his lips quirked upwards.

“I only want to live up to your expectations,” he all but teased, fiddling with his camera. He tilted it a little, moving to the side to look at her before he looked back at his screen.

“This is my first,” she told him breathlessly. “Is it yours?”

He chuckled darkly. “Hardly. Let me tell you how this usually goes. You cry and scream and beg, I send your daddy the video, he pays the money and then I let you go.”

She swallowed. “And…and if he doesn’t send the money?”

The man frowned. “No man wants his daughter tied up with the likes of me. He’ll send the money.”

Arina didn’t bother to correct him. Everyone assumed her father paid for her life, that it was his money that enabled her to bounce around aimlessly. They didn’t know it was an inheritance from her mothers parents, safely tucked away until Arina turned eighteen. It was more money than she could have spent in a lifetime though Lord knew she was trying.

Her father had never given her a cent and he never would.

“Likes of you? Who are you?” she murmured instead.

“Eris Vanserra,” he replied easily. As if it didn’t matter. The name clanged through her because Arina recognized, vaguely, the Vanserra name. It was everywhere. Prince of the city, Eris had all but inherited his fathers throne. A lawyer awash in cash, who had his fingers in every little pot. The fucking baseball stadium was named after his family. Arina almost laughed.

“Mafia?”

“Smart,” Eris praised and Arina, filled with dread, ignored the little kernel of pleasure that settled in her gut. No one had ever said that about her and Eris Vanserra, with his expensive education, had thrown it out like it was nothing. “Are you going to cry for me?”

“No.”

He clicked his teeth. “I could make you cry,” he murmured, reaching behind his back. Arina watched with too much fascination at the gun held in his broad hand. That certainly scared her, made worse by the easy smile on his face. Eris prowled toward the side of the bed, sitting on the edge while Arina tried to scoot away.

It was to no avail. Eris reached for her, dragging her towards him. “Maybe I wasn’t clear about our weekend together, sweetheart. You’re going to cry and beg and plead. If I have to torment it out of you, well…” a cruel smile graced his elegant features. “I’ll bet you break easier than a lot of others. I can make a grown man cry in an hour.”

He traced the barrel of the gun over her lips.

“Dig deep, deep down for a little fear before I start getting the wrong idea about what’s happening between us.”

“Nothing is happening between us,” she informed him in her haughtiest voice. Men hated when she talked to them like that, like they were beneath her. Maybe it was wrong to tempt the man holding a gun against her face, but she wanted him to know she thought he was nothing.

Eris chuckled. “I’ll bet that gets all your little boyfriends so hot and bothered,” he murmured, setting the gun in his lap. “I’ll bet they run off, tails between their legs before they take themselves in their hands and wonder what it would be like to please you.”

His hand ran down her torso, still clad in that white dress. He wasn’t touching anything and yet the suggestion of where that hand was going made her press her lips together. Arina clamped her legs tightly and Eris, still amused, hopped to the edge of the mattress with ease before wrenching them open.

“You’re tied up in my bed, sunshine. I can do whatever I like with you. And I’m starting to think, given those fuck me eyes you keep raking up and down my body, that you might like if I put my mouth against your pussy.”

Tears rose against her throat unbidden, her body trembling beneath the bruising touch of his fingers. Eris was watching her carefully the way a child might stare at a bug trapped in a glass. He was trying to scare her and part of her wanted to call his bluff, to see if he was truly so terrible he’d force himself on her.

The other didn’t dare. Not when the casual confidence with which he moved suggested he would do every filthy thing he said he would. Arina swallowed.

“Are you going to cry?” Eris all but taunted. He didn’t understand how much she hated her father. He could have come to her a day before and asked her for help and Arina would have agreed.

She knew, even as a tear slipped down her cheek, that her father wasn’t going to do anything more but discard the video and hope Eris Vanserra finished what her father had begun years before.

She squeezed her eyes shut, drawing up the memories of a violent, miserable childhood. Of her mother, trying so hard to shield her only daughter and failing when she died. Arina’s body shook, not with fear, but fury. What was Eris Vanserra but a pale imitation of the man who’d loved to pull off his belt when he came home from work, if only to watch his wife and daughter scattered across that little house?

“There it is,” Eris murmured, releasing his grip on her thighs. “What a pretty girl. Will you look at the camera, Arina?”

She opened her eyes and Eris frowned at whatever it was he saw looking back at him.

“Ready?” he murmured, counting to three above the camera with his fingers.

Arina began to scream.

ERIS:

Eris wasn’t used to waiting. Knee bouncing, he stared at the burner phone with his demands. Twelve hours. That’s how long Arina had been tied up in his bed. She’d done a good job of looking angry, certainly. She hadn’t pleaded so much as she’d writhed and screamed and cried, which Eris decided was good enough. If she couldn’t fake the doe eyes, what did Eris care? So long as she looked scared.

Eris frowned. He knew the number was right, knew Novak had to have seen it by now. It was typically enough to spurn men into action. His brothers had a reputation for cruelty, an appetite for blood and of the seven of them, Eris was the worst. No one wanted to see their sister, their wife, their daughter tied up and left to his mercy.

Eris had no mercy. Only an unrelenting desire to consume.

Maybe Novak needed a little motivation. Maybe seeing what Eris was willing to do would end whatever hesitation he had, would make ten million seem a small price if it meant his daughter wasn’t violated any worse than what Eris had planned.

He climbed back up the steps, jogging quickly, phone slipped into his pocket. He’d turned up the volume just in case, pausing only in a hall closet for rope. Arina was waiting when he pushed open the door with his shoe, eyes devoid of tears. No begging—not yet, anyway. He didn’t like the way she looked at him.

“Are you letting me go?” she whispered, her tone very much implying she knew he wouldn’t be.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom?” Eris asked instead, tossing the rope to the bed beside her. He walked back to his camera, fiddling with the angle. She had a face for film he thought almost ruefully. A body, too, though not the sort of film he’d originally been thinking of. Arina was easily the most beautiful woman he’d ever had in his bed, willing or otherwise. Eris didn’t let himself dwell too much on that fact or he’d lose his careful control.

“Yes,” she murmured, bringing him back to reality. Eris went to her, unknotting the ropes holding her to the wooden headboard with efficient fingers. Arina immediately smashed the palm of her hand against his face when she was free.

He exhaled. No one had ever done that before. Blinking with surprise as he stumbled back, Eris noted blood trickling from the force of the blow. It took him a moment to realize she’d scrambled for the door, was running to the hall. He whirled, catching her easily against the floral runner beneath her bare feet and dragging her too roughly to the ground.

“Fucking mistake, sunshine,” he snarled, gripping her by the throat.

“He didn’t respond, did he?” she gasped, slapping at his face again. “He’s not going to respond—”

“Shut. Up.” Eris ordered, getting a hold of her flailing body and hauling her up against his shoulder. Her foot nearly caught him in the jaw before Eris had enough. “If you touch me like that

again, I’ll put a bullet in your knee. Do you understand me?”

She went limp against him and fuck Eris wondered why that disappointed him. He walked her back inside, ignoring his rumpled ivory blanket that had once been tucked so neatly into the mattress. Eris dumped her in the adjoining bathroom, letting her body hit the dark tile roughly. She gasped.

“Go to the bathroom,” he ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now I have to fucking watch.”

“I’ll bet you get off on it,” she hissed, pushing herself up to her feet. Eris didn’t smile.

“Thinking about my cock?”

“I doubt there’s much to think about,” she shot back, the witty little thing. Eris averted his eyes when she lowered herself to use the bathroom, a smile on his face. Kidnapping was so rarely fun—everyone cried and pleaded and begged. She merely seemed inconvenienced and some small part of him was disappointed that in a few moments, she’d beg him to let her go, too.

“You’ll find out,” he all but crooned when she was finished. He let her wash her hands and splash a little water on her face before shoving her back towards the bed.

“Take that off,” he demanded, facing her down. The top of her head rose to his chin and yet the way she stared, she might have been eye level. Fear flashed over her features

“No.”

Eris sighed, bunching the neckline of her dress in his hands. He’d merely rip it off her, then. Arina’s eyes went wide, hands flying to his wrists. “Wait, no, stop, I’ll take it off!” she cried. Eris immediately released, strangely fascinated by the feel of her fingers on his skin. She should have been too afraid to touch him. He was used to wincing, to trembling fear.

“Don’t want to ruin your expensive dress?” he taunted, more angry at himself than he was with her. She didn’t answer him, arm reaching around to tug at the zipper. Eris knew what lay beneath, given he’d put her in the outfit to start. He’d meant to evoke a feeling of innocence, of purity that he might wreck if her father didn’t move quickly. Now the fabric was pooled at her feet, revealing her perfect, golden body clad only in that lacy black thong and matching bra.

For her date, he reminded himself. Why did it bother him to see her all packaged up for another man's cock? He had no intention of going anywhere near her. This was just for cash–Eris wanted to go back home.

“Take the rest of it off,” he murmured, ignoring the way he was thickening in his pants. She wasn’t aware, at any rate. Arina’s hands trembled, unclasping the bra in the front. Those big, green eyes never left his face and though he could all but smell her fear, she didn’t cry. It was starting to unnerve him. Everyone cried. The only people who could stare him down were the ones too used to torture and Eris didn’t know if he liked the implication that the woman in front of him had faced far worse than him.

There was nothing worse than him. He’d ensured that when he’d killed his father.

“Get in the bed,” he ordered once she was naked, trying so hard not to look at the pretty tits within grasping distance. She turned, a mistake given how much Eris liked a nice, round ass. Hers was out of every wild, desperate daydream he’d ever had. Emptied of all other thoughts, Eris stared at the sway of her hips and the soft bounce of her cheeks. Fuck, he wanted to bury himself between them.

She laid on the bed, swallowing hard. Prepared. He wasn’t going to touch her. This would be enough, he told himself as he began methodically retying the rope. “How much did you ask him for?” Arina murmured, watching as he hovered over her, binding her wrists back to the headboard.

“Ten million,” Eris replied, eyes sliding not to her face but her perky tits. Arina laughed mirthlessly, making them jiggle. His cock was paying too much attention, aching against his pants to be freed. Eris swallowed hard. He’d never reacted like this before and it made him want to punish her for it.

“Good luck,” she told him, her whole body going stiff when he reached for her thigh to tie her like a frog. Legs spread, ankles bound, there would be no escaping what was coming next.

“Not enough?” he questioned absently, trying and failing not to stare at her bared cunt. It seemed wrong that one woman could be so effortlessly flawless, that every inch of her could be so utterly appealing. Pussy was pussy, he told himself and yet when had he ever seen one half as gorgeous as hers? Waxed and pink and radiating the sort of heat that when he went to secure her ankles, he could feel it against his skin. He bet she was tight, bet she was wet.

“Too much,” Arina interrupted his thoughts again. That surprised Eris. His eyes flicked to her face, wondering if she was trying to protect her father.

“Money trouble?” Eris had poked through his financials. Ten million was nothing to a man like Novak.

Arina only shrugged, sending a wave of discomfort through him. “I wouldn’t know.”

“I was in your apartment. Seems you know very well,” Eris sneered as he tied her other leg. It would have been so easy to fuck her like this, his cock all but begged. She might even like it if he worked her up, if he put his face between her legs and licked and sucked until she made a mess of him. He couldn’t help running his hand over her bare thigh, thumb rubbing the seam between her leg and pussy. She wiggled, trying to escape his touch.

“Calm down,” he grumbled when she didn’t respond. “I’m not going to fuck you.”

“What are you doing?” she panted once she was totally secure, tugging against the ropes that held her hands. Eris turned towards his sleek dresser and the bag he’d brought from her place. He knew she recognized it. It was almost funny, the way her eyes snagged on that white vibrating wand and the little remote in his hand.

“This is a warning to daddy,” he told her, pinning her still when she writhed desperately. “If he wants to ignore me, next time it’ll be me touching his pretty princess.”

“Eris,” she panted. “Eris, you don’t understand—”

“I don’t care,” he interrupted, his cock jumping when his thumb brushed over her clit to nestle the vibrating head between her lips. Eris tied it carefully to her leg, trying so hard not to touch her again. His control was shredding, his grip on himself tenuous. He needed to get away from her, to breathe a little fresh air, stare at his computer screen, and remind himself there was no shortage of beautiful women in the world.

“Please don’t do this,” she pleaded once he had her vibrator secured to her leg. Tears were pooling in her eyes as she tracked him, spilling when she saw him go back to that camera. “Don’t let him see me like this, Eris—”

He almost apologized. “Beg really pretty for me, Arina,” he murmured, turning the vibrator on with the remote in his hand. She began crying in earnest then, writhing to try and escape what was pinned to her body. Eris didn’t move, ignoring the way she twisted against her bonds. He was too fascinated by the way her cunt gaped and suck at nothing, desperate for friction.

“Eris, stop this–”

“Beg, Arina,” he ordered breathlessly. She was going to come. He had to see, just once, had to just know what she looked like. Her skin was flushed, nipples pebbled and pointed at the ceiling.

Arina’s hands bunched to fists as she tugged overhead and twisted her hips, desperate to escape.

“Please,” she panted, looking right at him. Her eyes were so fucking dark and sexy. “Please, Eris—”

Her whole body arched and Eris nearly came in his pants at the sight. She screamed furiously, shaking her head back and forth. Her cunt glistened with slick proof of release. He wanted to touch, wanted to taste.

Eris turned on his heel, snapping the door shut so he could breath freely. Head against the wood, he waited for her to plead with her father. It was live—he could see the whole thing just as soon as he opened his phone.

“Eris!” Arina screamed, causing his cock to throb in his pants. “Eris come back!”

No one had ever begged him. He groaned, pushing off the wall to leave.

He’d come back later.

ARINA:

She hated him. Even when he disabled that vibrator from somewhere in the house, Arina’s whole body ached. Coated in a sheen of sweat, her thighs sticky, her pussy chafed raw, Arina hated her father. She hated knowing he likely enjoyed knowing that Eris was hurting her, that Eris would solve his problem for him. Arina was so wrung out she didn’t even notice Eris had come back until she felt the back of his hand against her face.

“Drink,” he ordered, holding her neck so she didn’t choke. Arina did as she was told, gulping down the coldest water she’d ever had in her life. She was too grateful to Eris in that moment though she knew she shouldn’t be. Arina didn’t have the ability to hate him and her father. Beyond that, she believed him when he’d said he would have let her go untouched had her father responded.

“Will you untie me?” she pleaded, tugging on the ropes. Eyes open, she saw that curiosity back on his face.

“Why?”

She’d forgotten she’d punched him. That felt like a lifetime ago. She was far too exhausted to do anything but look up at him. He’d shed himself of his jacket, unbuttoned his shirt down his neck, and rolled the sleeves of his crisp shirt to his elbows. He looked so normal, like a man she might find in the finance district.

She didn’t flinch when he walked between her legs, running a finger over her still slick thighs. She did watch him lift his hand to his mouth and taste which filled her with a different kind of fear.

“He didn’t say anything, did he?”

Fury flashed across Eris’s well-controlled features. “No.”

He began untying the vibrator from her legs without preamble, ignoring her spread open body, at least for the moment. It was all so humiliating, to be tied this way, to know her father had witnessed the whole thing. Arina swallowed thickly as Eris asked, “Tell me right now if he’s planning a rescue.”

She shook her head back and forth, unable to look at Eris. “He’s not going to give you any money, either.”

Eris sat between her thighs, staring at her aching pussy with an unreadable expression. “Why not?”

“Ten million is a lot of money,” she whispered, not bothering to add that it was too much money to spend on a daughter you’d never liked.

“I’d pay it,” he said, surprising her. “If it were my daughter.” He reached for the tie around her ankle. “I’ll be in this bed with you tonight. If you try anything, there are worse ways to be bound. More painful things I can spend the day doing to you while your father watches. Do you understand me, Arina?”

She still remembered the gun. She nodded thickly. Eris stared for a beat and then began the silent work of unbinding her. She could only watch his long, nimble fingers work. How had he learned this? How many people had he kidnapped before? There was an art to it all, she supposed, though she didn’t dare ask him how else he could tie her. She didn’t want to put ideas in his head. Instad, Arina waited until her wrists were undone, rubbing them softly as she sat up, to ask, “What happens when he doesn’t send you the money?”

Eris was close enough she could have touched his face. “They always send the money.”

She cleared her throat, trying to pretend that didn’t terrify her. “What will you do when he doesn’t?”

Eris reached over for a lock of her hair. Too quick, she realized he had a knife in his hand. She reared back, tumbling to the floor, forehead colliding with the corner of the side table, likely leaving a bruise. Eris towered over her, confusion and irritation etched against his face. Crouching, he showed her the lock of hair he’d cut.

“Maybe I’ll send him your hand,” he murmured, head cocked as he watched. “I’m not a babysitter, you know.”

Trembling, Arina whispered, “Let me pay it.”

He stilled, clutching that piece of blonde hair in his palm. “Excuse me?”

“Let me pay it,” she pleaded. It would wipe out the majority of the money her grandparents had left her, tucked away in trusts that had been yielding interest since the day she’d been born.

Reminding herself that she’d never wanted it, Arina forced herself to scoot a little closer. “I’ll send it to you tonight if you have my phone.”

Eris scowled. “You don’t understand the point of the ransom, sunshine. Your father needs to learn how to bend his knee in deference.”

“Let me do it instead,” she murmured, holding his gaze but Eris shook his head, his upper lip curling in disgust.

“I don’t want your fucking money, Arina.”

“Why not?” she all but screamed when he stood. Arina, too, was quick on her feet, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table and hurtling it at him. Eris just very narrowly missed, eyes wide when it shattered against the wall.

“You’re going to regret that,” he whispered.

“I hate you!” she screamed, slipping past him for the hall just like before. Eris lunged but Arina was fast, had spent her whole life dancing. This time he didn’t catch her until they hit the stairs.

Her fingers plunged into his hair, ripping violently, and when she went tumbling down, he came right with her. He grunted, elbow catching her in the stomach while Arina reached between his legs and twisted with a ruthless sort of violence.

“Fuck!” he yelled while she scrambled to her feet, his immaculate hair falling into his furious eyes. He was going to kill her. She could see it on his face. Truly there was nowhere to go even as she scrambled down the second landing and into the hall that would take her outside. She passed a dark kitchen and a strangely normal looking living room before Eris caught her, slamming her face into the front door so hard her teeth rattled.

“Go ahead,” he panted against the back of her neck. “Open it.”

He had both wrists in one hand pinned behind her, twisting so rough she cried out even as she tried to push him off. “Open the door, Arina. I’ll let you leave.”

“You won’t,” she screamed furiously, struggling against his punishing hold. “You’re a liar.”

“I would let you go to watch you walk back to the city naked,” he breathed, pushing closer. “How far do you think you’d get, with this body? How far before someone realizes what a fuckable mouth you have? Ten feet? Half a mile? I’ll bet even the animals could smell that wet cunt.”

“Stop it,” she whispered, cheek pressed to the wood. “Let me go.”

“If you’d gotten into my bed and gone to sleep like my good little girl, I might have,” Eris told her, grinding his pelvis against her bare ass. He was erect. She could feel the hardness of his cock against her, sliding beneath her butt cheek. Long, she thought with no small amount of horror. “Now that I know you want to touch my dick, though…I think I’ll put you on a little leash and keep you at my feet.”

“Eris!”

“Oh, you haven’t earned the right to call me Eris,” he replied, his other hand wrapping around her neck. Squeezing softly, he continued, “You know what I think?”

“I don’t give a fuck about what you think,” Arina replied.

“I think you weren’t properly punished by your own father–”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” she breathed.

“And until he shows up, you can call me sir,” he replied, his amusement evident in his voice.

“You’re disgusting,” she told him, ignoring the way he was rubbing himself against her.

“You’re disgusting, sir,” Eris replied, fingers pressed into her windpipe. “Say it, or you’re going to be punished.”

Arina would take her chances. She’d survived the vibrator, after all. She’d survived a lifetime of her actual father. Whatever Eris was thinking was likely not half as terrible and so Arina, defiant and angry, said, “I’d rather choke, Eris.”

Eris removed his hand from her neck to fist it in her hair. Turning her to face him, she found not hatred looking at her, but open lust. “Pathetic,” she whispered. The taunt was well worth it, even when he slammed her to her knees.

“You want to choke? Open your fucking mouth,” he replied, holding her in place while his free hand went to his pants and the belt looped around his waist. She reared back when he yanked it off, terrified for a moment he was going to strike her with it. Eris merely let it drop, misunderstanding why she’d begun to struggle. There was nowhere to go, not when the door behind her and his muscular body was pinning her in place. Not when his hand was pulling so roughly against her scalp she could practically taste blood.

He freed the thing that had been rubbing against her and for a moment, Arina had nothing to say at all. It seemed strangely wrong for a man who had a face like Eris’s to also have a cock like that. Had they met under normal circumstances, had he pulled the long, thick length of him out, she might have fallen to her knees anyway.

He rubbed the bruising head against her lips. “Open your fucking mouth, Arina.”

She didn’t dare say a word, trying so hard to twist her face out of his grasp. Eris shoved her back, knocking her against the door. She gasped from the pain, tears snapping to the corners of her eyes just in time for Eris to thrust his hips forward, slamming his cock into her throat. He only made it halfway before he had to stop while she gagged loudly, hands flying to his thighs still clad in his pants. She beat her fists against him for all the good it did.

“No teeth,” he groaned when she closed her mouth to bite. “Just like that. Good girl.”

And fuck if her whole body didn’t warm at the praise. What was wrong with her? She couldn’t breathe when he pushed in again, holding himself in her throat so her nose was pressed against his abdomen. He didn’t seem to register her hands shoving at him, didn’t care how loudly she gasped and gagged. Each new thrust was rougher, deeper, the sounds of her body trying to reject the length of him punctuated by his own panting groans.

“You have a pretty mouth,” he praised. “A wet mouth.”

She opened her eyes, flicking them upwards. He was watching, his pupils so blown out they were practically colorless.

“Who knew you took cock so well?” he murmured, using the hand holding her hair to bob her over him. Her knees ached against the wood, her jaw sore from the stretch required to accommodate him. All Arina could focus on was sucking in a quick breath every time he pulled back.

“I could do this all night,” he told her, eyes holding her gaze. “Are you going to do what I ask? Or am I going to use your mouth like my own personal toy until it's time to go to work?”

She whined. She’d say anything to get him to finish. No blow job, consensual or otherwise, should last this long. Saliva was dripping from her mouth and down her neck, her eyes burning with tears she couldn’t stop. Eris withdrew until it was only the tip of his heavy, swollen cock resting on her tongue. He held himself in his hand, smearing precum over lips.

“Are you going to do what I tell you to?” he whispered, his body practically shaking with need. Arina winced. “Yes.”

“Yes…” he prompted. She couldn’t look at him.

“Yes, sir.”

He stroked himself once, and then again, splattering hot ropes of come all over her face without warning. He caught her directly in the face for the first spurt before pointing lower, covering her neck and then her breasts. He seemed an impossible amount for one man and Arina was grateful he hadn't made her swallow it.

“Good girl,” he whispered, hauling her to her feet. Her legs wobbled as if she’d been stabbed by a million pins. Eris used one hand to hold her arm, the other to shove himself back in his pants. “Now. Lets clean you up. You’re disgusting.”

She could only stare, open mouthed.

She knew he understood what she hadn’t said out loud, if his cruel amusement was any indication.

Fuck you, Eris.

ERIS:

Eris scrubbed a hand over his face, propped against the headboard as the sun began to rise. He had his laptop resting on his thigh, already logged in to get some actual work done. Beside him, Arina was curled on her side, her thick hair half hiding her beautiful face. Eris couldn’t resist pushing it from her cheek, if only to look at her still swollen pink lips. He’d lost control of himself last night though he didn’t have it in him to regret it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come so hard.

He wanted more. Eris was both furious and relieved when he found no response from her father. What kind of man let the likes of Eris Vanserra put his blood soaked hands all over his perfect daughter? Eris was well aware Arina deserved a lot better than being throat fucked in the foyer of his fathers former home. Had she been his, he would have made the entire city suffer.

He glanced at his phone. Lucien, grumpy from being woken so early, had texted back.

He just got to work. Want me to cut the breaks?

Eris stroked his finger over Arina’s soft cheek again. She was still out, exhausted from being subjected to his whims. He planned to be a little softer today, had caught the way she looked at him every time he praised her. Some sick, stupid part of him wondered if he couldn’t condition her to seek his approval simply by telling her she’d made him happy.

Yes.

Fuck Novak for deciding to wait him out. Eris knew when Novak arrived, he’d find a package on his desk courtesy of Tanwen. A dress stolen from her closet, soaked in blood and torn apart. If that didn’t scare him, Eris didn’t think anything would.

He wasn’t used to holding a hostage for so long. Eris sent a request to Conall for food, both for himself and for Arina, who hadn’t eaten since he’d brought her here. He’d need to let her bathe, would have to figure out what to do with her while he waited on her father. She didn’t wake when he left to collect it or when he brought up juice and a tray of food, unsure what she liked to eat. She slept through a heated call between Eris and a client, blissfully unaware of the veiled threats he made as he paced through the room.

The only thing that woke Arina was Eris turning the vibrator back on. Leaning against the dresser, wand in hand, he flipped the on switch and watched how she jerked upwards. Blonde hair spilled against her breasts, those wide, green eyes filled with alarm.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he murmured. “I was starting to think you were dead.”

“Put that away,” she whispered, legs clamped firm. Eris frowned.

“After last night, I think I owe you.”

She shook her head. “No…no, Eris–”

“What did I say about my name?” he snapped. It was a practical concern. Every time his name spilled from her lips, Eris had to fight his cocks urge to fuck her perfect ass. Defiance flashed over her features.

“I’m not calling you sir.”

“Then you better not call me anything at all,” Eris retorted, turning the vibrator off. “Eat something. I need to go into the city today and I don’t want to be thinking about you.”

She looked up at him, hands on her thighs. “Am I coming with you?”

Eris frowned. He’d intended to lock her in the bathroom. “Do you want to come with me?”

“I don’t want to be here alone,” she replied, as if that were the same.

“You’d risk sitting beneath my desk all day just to avoid being here all alone?” Eris questioned. Her fingers curled around her neck, eyes glassy and he knew she was thinking about how he used her the night before. He wanted to again.

“I might decide to use you as a cockwarmer. Have you thought of that?”

No. She winced. Instead, Arina crept closer, tits hanging between her arms. “Has he responded?”

Eris couldn’t hide his hatred. “No.”

“He’s not going to,” she told him. “He’s going to let you kill me.”

Eris decided to breeze right past that little declaration in favor of getting something he wanted. “A trade, sunshine?”

Her wariness was warranted. “I’ll take you into the city with me,” where he absolutely intended to use her mouth again, not that she needed to know that, “If you arch that ass of yours in the air and don’t move it until I tell you to.”

He was still holding the vibrator in his hand and from the way she stared, Eris would have thought he held a gun. She was weighing her options and God he hoped she did it. He had a bottle of lube in the drawer just behind him. He meant to fuck her stupid, take her to his office, and fuck her stupid again. If Novak wasn’t going to get his daughter, why shouldn’t Eris get to keep her, at least for now?

“Will you let me go?” she asked. Testing.

“No.” Eris hadn’t gotten what he wanted, after all. It wasn’t about money, not that Arina understood. It was power. The power to bend the city to his will, to remind even men like Novak what would happen if they crossed him. Novak would find out soon enough if he wasn’t panicking about his daughter. Absently, Eris pulled his phone from his pants. Only work. No Novak.

“So I do this and you just take me with you?” she questioned, lips pulling in a frown.

He shrugged, deciding he’d scare her a little into accepting. “Better than being chained up all day in the basement, right?”

Her face paled. Something about being alone bothered her. Eris could untangle that later. For now, all he needed was the barest hint of her compliance. He didn’t want to fight her again, didn’t want to waste the time it would take to spread her out and prop her up. The fun was watching her try, even if she failed. Arina’s eyes darted to the camera.

“Are you going to film it?”

“Do you want me to?” he replied casually, though this was between them. He wanted Novak to think his daughter was miserable with him, and though Eris fully intended to use her like a doll, he didn’t think there would be a terrible amount of suffering when she took his cock. After all, Arina only cried when he left her or she realized her father might see her break down. Everything else was met with a taunt, a teasing smile. A I’m better than you sort of look that made his balls heavy.

“No.”

“Alright. No camera then. Are you going to bend over for me like a good little girl, or do you just want to watch me leak cum in my pants all day?”

Her eyes slid to the bulge. She took a gulping breath. “I hate you for this.”

“I don’t care if you like me,” Eris replied, swallowing his own groan when she turned over. He went to her, ignoring her upturned ass, to grab her bruised, chafed wraps. “Hold the mattress.”

Arms spread, Eris watched her grip either edge as best she could. Centered right in the middle, her fingers just grasped the edge, bunching the black bed sheets beneath.

She had her thighs clamped together. Eris spread them wide, letting his hand slip between. She wasn’t wet like he’d hoped but that heat from before was enough to make him want. To remind him of the vibrator behind him and how he could pull gleaming slick from her cunt whether she wanted it or not.

“If you move, I’ll punish you,” Eris murmured, undoing his pants quietly. This was, in all truth, a waste of his time. He should have dumped her in the bathroom behind him, locked the door, and left for the day. Should have let her give him the money before calling the whole thing quits. “If you try and push me off you, I’ll punish you. If you do anything I don’t like, I’ll punish you. Do you understand?”

“How will I know if you don’t like something?” she asked, looking over her shoulder and fuck, Eris’s cock jumped in his hand, precum beading the tip. She was so effortlessly sexy, a woman he might have designed in a lab if that sort of thing had ever been possible. Eris couldn’t help himself, kneading her soft flesh in his hands. Eris marveled at how his palm spanned her entire cheek.

Perfect fit.

He’d thought the same thing the night before when he’d been fucking her throat.

Eris didn’t warn her, slapping her skin hard enough he could see the print etched in flesh. “That’s how you’ll know,” he told her, watching the way her whole body jumped.

Using the last vestiges of his willpower, Eris went back for the vibrator and the lube. Arina was still watching over her shoulder, blonde hair splayed against her back. “You’re not going to take off your shirt?”

Eris opened his mouth to taunt her, not daring to say the real reason, when his own eyes snagged over something dragging against her lower back. A long, vicious cut made white with time, scarred over otherwise perfect flesh. She’d been on her back for the last three days. How would he have known? She didn’t realize he’d seen it and he wondered what she’d do if she saw he had a matching set against his own? Eris tossed his items to the mattress and began unbuttoning his shirt, ignoring the voice in his head screaming at him to stop. She couldn’t see his back but Eris knew, just like he knew how he’d gotten them.

Was Novak not coming because he didn’t care if his daughter lived or died?

Eris shoved that thought to the side. He’d deal with it later, when it mattered. Right now, Arina had her perfect ass in the air, was clutching his bed, and as far as he could tell, had some curiosity about his body. Running a hand down his toned torso, he asked, “Like what you see?”

“Just get this over with,” she gritted, burying her face in the sheets.

“You always know the right things to say,” Eris murmured, reaching for the vibrator and turning it to the highest setting. Her body went rigid and all was right in the world again.

“Did I traumatize you yesterday?” he crooned, running the vibrating head over the curve of her ass. “How many times did you come before you begged me to stop?”

“Once,” Arina was quick to reply. Eris was glad she couldn’t see how rueful he felt. He’d walked right into that one. Spreading apart her pretty ass cheeks, Eris pressed the vibrator against the puckered whole his cock was about to invade. He was so fucking aroused he could barely see straight and when her hand jerked, reaching back to swat at him, Eris got to spank her hard.

“Do you want to come to work with me or not?” he growled. “Put your fucking hand back.”

She whimpered and yet still did what she was told, arm trembling as she gripped. “Good girl,” he praised, noting the way her hips seemed to arch involuntarily. Fuck, had anyone ever said one nice word to this woman? Still running the vibrator over her ass, Eris decided to test his hypothesis.

“Has anyone ever told you how lovely you are?”

She went stiff again. Yes.

He moved the vibrator lower, letting it tease the opening of her pussy. Arina was so tightly held he thought she might shatter, her hips practically shaking with fear. She didn’t like being told she was pretty, Eris supposed that was fair. It was obvious—the first time he’d really seen her, he’d thought she ought to model. Surely he wasn’t the only one.

Coating his cock in lube, erection twitching, Eris wondered what was wrong with him? He’d been fucking womn since he was a teenager and had never cared if they liked him, let alone if they felt special. This was worse—Arina was his captive and at some point, he wanted to let her go. Would let her go.

Eris pressed the vibrator against her clit and pushed the blunt head of his cock into her ass. Arina gasped, hand reaching out only to reach for the bed again. “Smart girl,” he growled, fingers digging into her flesh. Arina moaned, a wrenched sound he thought he’d all but dragged out of her. There it was, the thing no one thought about her that she desperately wanted to be praised for. She could be his smart girl. His best girl.

“I changed my mind,” she panted when he pushed another inch into her. “Stop, Eris, I’ll stay–”

“You’ll take it,” he gritted out, already so fucking aroused he thought he might die. She was so fucking tight and hot and with the lube she felt perfect. The sight of her ass eating him up inch by inch was waking something primal in him.

He could feel the vibrations from the vibrator dully through the skin of her clenched ass. Eris pushed further, earning a soft scream muffled by the blanket. Having breached his way in, no amount of tightening could keep him out. God himself couldn’t have stopped Eris and when Arina wiggled her hips to try and shove him back, Eris decided it was best to just get the whole thing over with at once.

He slammed himself the rest of the way in, groaning while she screamed. A fluttering, pulsating feeling told Eris that, despite her desperate pain, Arina had come. “You like that?” he panted, pressing the vibrator harder to her clit.

“Stop,” she moaned, earning spank after spank after spank for the way she moved. “It hurts.”

“Relax,” he demanded, kneading her hot, reddened flesh. “Stop fighting me.”

She exhaled a breathy sob when he withdrew, pushing back in. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised, swallowing hard. He could already feel release building and he’d barely even begun. “Are you going to come again?”

“I don’t want to,” she cried, face still hidden in the sheets. Eris began to pump slowly, grabbing the lube beside him without moving the vibrator an inch from her pussy. He coated the skin of his cock in it, pulling himself nearly all the way from her body. The next slide felt less tense, was smoother, easier.

“That’s it,” he praised. “My smart girl. Open yourself up. Enjoy it.”

And fuck if she didn’t, at least a little. He thought some small part of her wanted to obey, to give in and let him take over. Her hips rocked from the force with which he’d begun thrusting, chasing the absurd, delicious high that was her body. If her ass felt this good, had him this undone, what the fuck was it going to be like buried in her pretty, wet pussy? When he didn’t need to lubricate himself because proof of her want was sticky and hot against the aching skin of his cock?

Arina tightened almost painfully around him again, holding him for a moment, sucking so deep he couldn’t contain the guttural groan that slipped from his chest. Her legs shook as she came again, pinned by his hands and hips so she couldn’t move.

“Eris,” she panted and fuck he was going to come. “Eris please, stop—”

“Come again,” he demanded. He was greedy. He wanted to see her exhausted and sweaty like before, wanted her to pass out in the car from all the orgasms he gave.

Her scream could have shook the very foundation of the house. Eris chased after it, pumping viciously into her. “Again,” he ordered, pressing the vibrator so hard against her, nestling the want between her perfect lips that she barely got a chance to breathe before she was convulsing around him. He’d lost count. Was it three or was it four?

“Eris,” she sobbed and he didn’t even care she was using his name. He wanted to hear her say it. “Eris, please–”

She came again and he nearly did, too. He had to clench his ass to keep from unloading. Just a little longer. He needed her to take a little more. Arina was trembling, just barely holding the edge of the bed.

“Eris!” she screamed, her hands flying out. It was too much. He dropped the vibrator to catch her wrists, using them like a lever as he thrust himself into her, burying himself to the hilt like a mindless, rutting animal.

“Fuck!” he groaned, digging his fingers so sharply into her ass he was sure he’d left bruised. Release washed over him little a bomb had gone off, dragging him off some unknown precipice Stars burst through the blackness that stole over his vision while Eris poured more come than he even knew he had into her body. It was last night all over again and the endless spurting of fluid.

Arina collapsed to the mattress entirely, trembling violently, arms thrown over her head.

Eris withdrew regretfully, watching his come slide from her ass towards her pussy. Some small, sick part of him hoped something stuck.

“C’mon,” he grumbled, slapping her ass softly. “Take a shower so we can go.”

She wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. “You weren’t lying?”

He would have been smarter if he had. Eris only shook his head. “Not lying. But you can’t walk into my office smelling like a cumwhore. Go wash yourself and we’ll go.”

Hatred streaked over her features, quick as lightning and then it was gone. He let her go to the bathroom by herself.

He didn’t want to think about what he’d do if he followed.

Eris was already too worried about what he was willing to risk to keep her.

ARINA:

Arina had expected to work out of a dungeon or a basement or some dirty warehouse down by the harbor. Not downtown in a seventy story building where he held the sixty-ninth floor. Eris had grinned when he pressed that button, every inch the demon who’d just fucked her in the ass despite his crisp suit and his perfect hair. He’d done that on purpose, then.

Elevator doors opened to a rich mahogany desk with the words Vanserra and Associates emblazoned on a plaque. A pretty, dark haired woman smiled at him like he was the nicest guy in the world. “I canceled your meetings,” she told him. “So you could show the intern around.”

“Wonderful,” Eris praised, his voice rich like honey. “This is Arina. Get her a name badge and a cubicle, will you?”

“Are you serious?” she hissed.

“You don’t think you could work for me?” Eris questioned, one brow raised. And fuck, she hadn’t meant for him to interpret her words that way…but looking around the sea of offices and cubicles and the women with their sleek hairdos and professional pumps…and she found she did think that.

“I don’t know anything about law,” Arina mumbled.

“Neither do a lot of people here,” he replied with a cheeky wink before he pulled open the door to his office.

“But you do?”

“Oh, sunshine, the law is my passion,” he said sarcastically, gesturing for her to sit anywhere she liked. His office was big, and filled with shelves of hardback books. There were old tomes on law and the theory of law but others were just really nice first editions of books she liked. Eris plopped into the black high-backed leather chair and immediately began fishing his computer out of his bag.

“You like to read?” he asked without looking at her. Framed by a window made of glass, Eris could have been the actual prince of the city. He certainly looked it, in that moment. Haughty, arrogant, and terribly spoiled, all coupled with his effortless good looks painted a rather appealing picture…not that she wanted to admit it.

“What, the spoiled socialite can’t read?” she sneered, feeling stupid all over again. Eris’s head snapped in her direction.

“When did I say that?” he demanded. “Do you like to read?”

“Yes,” she replied defensively, pulling his first edition of Robinson Crusoe from the shelf. It must have cost him a small fortune and she bet that was part of why he’d displayed it here. Eris turned back to his computer, leaving her to sit in one of the chairs opposite his desk.

“Me too,” he murmured, fingers flying over the keys.

Arina had seen his back earlier that morning, after he’d finished fucking her like an animal. Vision blurred with her tears, she thought she’d imagined the faint scars running the length of his back. She had some just like them, the product of a belt against brand new flesh. She’d been too angry, too hurt to ask him what happened and now she was too emotionally raw.

Arina wanted to make a deal with Eris. Book in her lap, Arina opened her mouth to offer but Eris spun his laptop around for her, showing her a menu of food.

“My assistant wants to know if you want lunch. Pick something light,” he added. She waited for him to make some terrible comment about her weight or her body like everyone else did but Eris, she’d forgotten, was horrible in different ways. “I don’t want you to vomit in my lap when I fuck your throat beneath the desk.”

“I hate you,” she said, meeting his delighted gaze.

“You don’t,” he replied with satisfaction. “Soup, do you think?”

“Since you’re so bossy, I’ll let you decide,” she grumbled, tucking her legs beneath her white dress. It was the only one she had in her possession. Eris’s eyes darkened as he watched, a momentary reprieve

“Eris?”

“Mm?” he asked, eyes back on his computer.

“Have you ever killed anyone?”

She had his full attention again. Lips curled into a cold, cruel smile. “Worried?”

She scoffed. “No.” Though her pounding heart told a different story. He was dangerous and she kept forgetting that because Arina could only handle one terrible man at a time. As long as her father drew breath, Arina would never truly see Eris for what he really was.

Eris reclined back in his chair, fingers steepled in front of his chest. “Tell me what you’re thinking, sunshine.”

Sunshine. Why did he call her that?

“You want my fathers compliance, right?”

Eris watched her with hungry eyes.

“I could help. I would have helped, if you came to me in the beginning. I still could.”

Eris inclined his head for a moment, lips pressed into a thin line. “You want to help me rob your father?”

“No,” Arina shook her head. “I think we’re beyond that. He watched…he saw…” he saw that vibrator tied to her leg and did nothing. “I want to humiliate him, I want you take everything he has, and then I want you to kill him.”

Eris leaned forward, his interest evident on his features. “You want me to take all his money? Not you?”

Arina wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want any of it. Take it all, I don’t care.” She would have rather had nothing at all than to live off her fathers ill-gotten gains. Eris was watching her like he knew something she didn’t, had pieced some little thing together that Arina was missing.

“Okay. I’ll think about it,” he replied, turning back to his computer. “Enjoy your book. Lunch is in an hour…” He was warning her about his cock, somehow still hard after what he’d done to her still aching ass.

She should have hated him.

She didn’t.

ERIS:

“Do you remember Father Roberts?” Eris asked Lucien. He was just outside the bathroom where he’d gone to splash water over his face after shoving Arina violently beneath his desk and forcing his cock into her throat. The more she struggled, the harder he came. He was figuring that out about himself. He wanted her with a near single-minded determination, which made his next question easy. “Get me his parish.”

“I’m not your fucking assistant.”

“Just do it. Did Novak get in his car?”

“Fender bender,” Lucien said gloomily. “Should have rigged it to go up in flame.”

“Forget fucking with his car, Lucien,” Eris snapped, irritated by his brothers love of arson. “I have a different plan to fuck Novak over.”

“It sounds stupid,” Lucien grumbled. “If you need a goddamn priest.”

“Just get me the parish. I’m tired of being locked up in this shitty house.”

“Okay, alright,” Lucien agreed before disconnecting the call. Eris turned back to his office. He needed to get out of here. Back inside, Arina was in her chair holding a five thousand dollar book between reverent hands. Her mouth was swollen pink, her cheeks bright red from where he’d slapped her.

“I can’t take you anywhere,” he complained, well aware it was obvious what had happened between them. Well, mostly obvious, at any rate. Arina had been too gagged to scream and from the burning hatred in her eyes when she turned to look at him, Eris thought she would have liked to have embarrassed him that way. She’d fight him on the way out. Time to lay one of his cards face up on the table.

“I’ve considered your offer. You want to help me?” he pressed, watching her carefully. Her hatred of him warred with her hatred of his father and Eris was too pleased when the hatred for Novak won out.

“Yes,” she admitted.

“Wonderful. I have some ideas. Walk out of this office without screaming, and I’ll share them with you back at the house.”

“Can I take the book with me?”

She was so softly pathetic in that moment. It made his heart squeeze tightly in his aching chest. Was that all she wanted? A book? Eris nodded curtly, not wanting to give whatever the fuck he was feeling away. Not when he knew she’d be back to hating him by the end of the night. It wouldn’t matter, then.

Arina was compliant, clutching that book to her chest all the way through the building and into his car. Eris, who was starting to suspect he was deeply, deeply stupid, put his hand on her knee as he drove back out to that secluded house. Tomorrow he’d take her to his penthouse, assuming she agreed to his scheme.

Eris had cleared out his calendar for tomorrow under the assumption that Arina needed to make everything difficult. Not at that moment, though. Unaware of what he intended, Arina sat at the table and ate a meal with him, eyeing him suspiciously the entire time but mostly normal—at least for them.

“Are you going to tell me this plan of yours?” she asked when Eris marched her back up to the bedroom. He was beginning to suspect she was ruining him for all other women.

“Take off your dress.”

Arina huffed with exasperation. “I don’t want your dick again,” she complained.

“What makes you think I’d care if you didn’t?” Eris taunted. “Take off your fucking dress or I’ll destroy it. I want you tied up when I tell you this. I won’t have you hitting my face again.”

Arina ripped the dress off angrily, leaving the bra and panties on beneath. Eris raised a brow but when she stood defiant, it was with too much pleasure that he pulled them down for her. It gave him an excuse to run his finger against her hot cunt.

“Wet,” he murmured with surprise, pushing his finger into the opening. Arina shoved him back like he knew she would, still pissed about the blow job. She hit him in the face despite his best intentions, the ringing slap arousing him more than it enraged him. Arina was going to ruin him for all other women.

“You’re so fucking mean,” Eris praised, pushing her to the bed and straddling her chest with his hips while she writhed beneath him. “I’m starting to love it.”

“You’re disgusting!” Arina screamed while he bound her wrists over her head. She kicked him in the throat when he went to move her legs, solidifying Eris’s plan. There would only be one answer, then. One outcome. He opened her back up, spreading her thighs with the rope and tying her ankles to her knees so she looked like a frog again. Arina fought him viciously, well aware of what was coming for her.

“If you had just done what you were told,” Eris crooned once he was done. “I wouldn’t have to resort to such desperate measures.” He pushed two fingers back into her cunt just because he could, curling them upwards while she panted, those green eyes darkening. Whether it was hate or lust, Eris couldn’t say. He used his thumb to rub a little circle over her glistening clit. “You know what I realized? I haven’t had the pleasure of making you come.”

“And you never will,” she gritted out as he pumped lazily, noting the way she coated his skin.

“Oh, how wrong you are,” Eris murmured with delight, lowering his head for a taste. He swore it would be a quick thing and yet the minute his tongue replaced his fingers Eris was fucking wrecked. He gripped her thighs to keep her from twisting away.

“Eris–”

“Yes,” he groaned, grinding his raging erection into the mattress beneath him. He put his plan on pause so he could feast on her. He was lying to himself, tongue dragging up over her quivering, swollen clit, when he said this was merely a preamble to the torment for later, that he wanted her nice and lubricated for the vibrator.

But Eris just wanted to lick her. She’d had his cock in her mouth twice, now. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to return the favor? Arina was musky and sweet, like some sort of desert he’d only ever concocted in his imagination now made real.

“Eris, stop it,” she pleaded breathlessly. “Talk to me.”

“Come, first,” he demanded. She exhaled softly when his fingers invaded her body again, clenching so tight his entire life flashed before his eyes. His plan was suddenly spectacular, the smartest thing he’d ever conceived. He was dying to tell her just as soon as she made a fucking mess of his face. Arina was drenched, was practically dripping all over his fingers and face. She bucked her hips when he sucked that pretty pink clit between his lips, using the flat of his tongue to rub the unhooded center.

“Eris!” she cried, tugging at her bindings. She was pulsating, her cunt mind meldingly hot. He needed her, wanted to slam his cock into her cunt and fuck her until he felt those spasms not around his two fingers but around the base of his shaft. Arina’s hips flew off the bed and no matter how she said she didn’t want him, she ground her pussy into his face, chasing the high of her orgasm.

Eris pulled back, making a big, theatrical show of wiping off his face and licking his fingers clean. Arina watched through half-lidded eyes, her perky tits bouncing with each ragged breath she took. “No one’s ever eaten your pussy like that, have they?” Eris asked, far too pleased with himself.

“Fuck you, Eris.”

“You will,” he agreed pleasantly, walking to the dresser and the vibrator laying on top of it. “Tomorrow.

Her eyes went huge when she heard that tell-tale buzzing. “Eris,” she whispered, her words a plea. “Don’t, please–”

“I won’t,” he promised, turning it off. “If you promise to do everything I say.”

“I will,” she lied. He knew she couldn’t. Eris already had her leg already roped up—all he had to do was slide the handle of the wand through and she’d be back at his mercy. He sat beside her, running a finger over her breast to touch the pink, peaked nipple.

“Do you still want to see your father punished?” he asked absently, ignoring the way his cock pleaded for him to release it. He pinched the dusky bud between two fingers gently, eliciting a soft gasp.

“Yes.”

“And once I’ve drained his accounts and thoroughly humiliated him…you’re asking me to kill him? Just so I understand, sunshine. I need to hear you say it.”

“Yes,” she admitted, eyes fluttering shut beneath his careful touches. “I want to help.”

“Vicious,” he praised. “My smart, vicious wife.”

Her eyes flew open. “What did you say?”

“A priest will be here in the morning,” Eris murmured, still tugging at her breast, the vibrator lying just between them. “All you have to do is say I do, and sign one little document–”

“Eris, that’s crazy,” she breathed. “I’m not going to marry you.”

He knew she’d argue and yet some small part of him was disappointed anyway. “You will. I’m not letting you go.”

“You want to be married forever?” she gaped. “I just assumed this would be pretend—”

“What part of how I just ate your pussy felt like pretending to you?” he snapped. “Vanserra’s don’t get divorced.”

“Just forget it,” Arina writhed. “Forget I asked—”

He turned on the vibrator. “I can’t forget it. You’ll be my wife one way or the other, Arina. Make it easy and I’ll put my face between your legs again.”

“Go to hell, Eris.”

He smiled. “You’re coming with me.”

That first furious scream when he had the vibrator secured to her leg was practically music to his ears.

ARINA:

It wasn’t like before. Eris was too content to watch, to use his little remote so Arina was given a reprieve. He’d wrap his arms around her body and press kisses against her neck and shoulders. Marry me, he’d murmur softly, his mouth ghosting over her jaw. My sweet, smart, vicious girl. Marry me.

And she’d say no and all at once his comforting touches would vanish and the buzzing would begin again. She couldn’t think her way through it, pleasure edged with pain until Arina was desperate. Eris turned it off in the middle of the night, his own exhaustion getting the better of him. She watched him unbutton his shirt, staring between her legs with a mixture of amusement and desire.

“What happened to your back?” she gasped, her heart pounding in her throat.

“What happened to yours?” he shot back without his usual malice. She knew it was rhetorical but everything was just a game to Eris. Marriage, kidnapping, killing. What did he care? How could he ask her to be his wife for the rest of his life if he didn’t seem particularly fascinated if she even lived or died?

“A belt,” Arina told him, watching how still he went. “Buckle against skin, of course. It started with my mother.”

Eris flinched and she wondered if it had started with his mother, too. He had been like her, a little boy hiding while his mother put her body in front of his own? How long before she couldn’t? How long before Eris tired of teasing her sexually and took off his own belt?

“She died when I was fourteen. That dress,” Arina nodded to the discarded white dress she’d bought, “Was for the anniversary of her death.”

“When?” he asked, looking at her with unreadable amber eyes.

“Three months ago,” she admitted, shame washing over her. It was the first time since he’d put her in front of that camera that Arina had felt humiliated or shamed. Even when he’d shoved his cock in her mouth, all she’d felt was anger. It was uncomfortable. “I didn’t go.”

“Why?”

Arina shrugged. “I…” I think it was a waste for her to die for me. “I guess I’m a coward.”

“What happened, after she died?”

Arina couldn’t look at him. “The same as always. Only, it was just me.”

“Is that why he’s not coming?” Eris asked her softly, running a hand over her thigh. “He’s hoping I’ll kill you?”

Tears sprang behind her eyes. “Yes.”

“Marry me, Arina,” he said, his voice harsher than before. “We both know you’re going to say yes before morning. End this and spend the night plotting with me.”

“What about what I want?”

“I am what you want,” Eris replied darkly. “What you need.”

“And you–”

“I’ve been waiting my whole fucking life for you,” Eris snarled, prowling forward until he was at the edge of the bed. He kneeled, this cruel, terrible prince. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you. Vanserra’s don’t get divorced.”

“It’s been four days, Eris,” she whispered.

“Say yes,” Eris urged, brushing his fingers over her cheek. “I know you don’t want to sleep in here alone—”

“You’re going to leave me?” she whispered, wondering why that was what was threatening to break her. Eris wiped the tear from her nose.

“I’m not sleeping next to anyone but my wife tonight,” Eris growled. “If you tell me no, you can sleep alone.”

“Eris,” she whispered.

“Swallow your pride. Admit you want me, too. Marry me, Arina.”

He wouldn’t ask again. Not until the morning, not after he’d wrung her out entirely, had broken her into nothing. And fuck, she knew she was weak. Knew that if she signed that document, Eris would never let her go. Whatever life was like with him would be it. Cruel or kind, Arina had no other option. It wasn’t a choice.

“Yes,” she agreed. He breathed a heavy, warm sigh against her face, pressing his mouth to her lips for the first time since he’d met her. It was so sweet, so at odds with the man she’d come to know so well.

Eris rose, unknotting her legs first and then her wrists. When she stood, stretching her limbs, he caught her against his half naked body and kissed her again, just as softly as before. She knew in some deep recess of her brain that Eris was manipulating her. When she did what he wanted she got his affection, his gentle hands, his praise. And when she displeased him, Eris tied her up until she was a shaking, miserable mess. Arina wanted to fight him just as much as she wanted to make him happy.

“It was a belt for me, too,” Eris told her, thumbs rubbing her cheeks. She wrapped her arms around his neck.

“You escaped?”

His palm slid against her bare spine. “I killed him.”

She looked up at him, wondering if this would be the moment that truly scared her. Eris, too, seemed to be wondering if she’d shrink back. If she’d see him for what he really was. It was too late for that. Arina saw him clearly in that dim lamp light, half naked and clutching her like a lifeline.

“I’ve never held a gun before.”

Eris smiled. “Let’s rectify that.”

Morning came too soon. Wrapped against Eris, his arms tight around her, Arina wasn’t sleep-deprived and aching like she had been the night before. The full weight of her decisions were crashing down on her. Marriage. It made sense, she supposed. If her father died, someone had to inherit his empire. Arina didn’t want it, and yet was likely entitled to at least some of it. Her new husband could siphon it off, could enrich himself or even take on his empire entirely.

And Arina could leave. Vanserra’s might not divorce but she could. Eris couldn’t keep her from filing those papers in two months, from taking the vestiges of her former life and fleeing. She could start over, could put this whole thing behind her. Arina genuinely did not believe Eris would fight her on it, not when he found millions and millions of dollars untouched in his accounts.

She didn’t want anything from him and, more importantly, he couldn’t give her anything. Her trust was outside her purview and Arina had no intention of ever telling him about it. She’d take it and run. His reach was long but he wasn’t God. To get what she wanted, Arina could play along.

Eris shifted behind her, tightening his grip instinctually, as if even in sleep he recognized his hold was tenuous at best. She doubted he’d ever loved anything in his life and was mistaking infatuation for it. In some small, strange way, Arina almost pitied him. Almost. Because men like Eris couldn’t really love–they could only possess. Her mother had been beautiful, too, and look what it got her.

The same thing Arina would get if she made the mistake of thinking Eris truly wanted her for anything other than an ornament.

He brushed the hair off her neck, shifting his hips again. Was he ever not erect? She went still behind him, prepared to complain, to beg him not to touch her. She was still raw from the night before. Still embarrassed by how hard she’d come from his fucking tongue and how some sick part of her wanted him to do it again.

“I have a gift for you,” he whispered.

“Will I like it?” she couldn’t help but ask. Eris chuckled.

“It’s not my cock, sunshine. It’s a gift for my new wife and I am certain you will like it.”

New wife. Spoken with such cheerful confidence.

“And…and will we live here?”

Eris chuckled, kissing her cheek before he pushed himself up off the bed. “Fuck no. We’ll go back to my place in the city. I’m sure you want to pack up.”

She didn’t. She loved her apartment, lonely as it was. It had been a sanctuary from violence, from a different sort of fear. Maybe she’d been alone but no one could hurt her, could harm her. What would Eris’s apartment bring?

“I’m sorry for how rushed this is.” Eris’s voice drew her back to reality as he tossed one of his shirts to her. “In six months, we’ll go to the cathedral and do it right. Everyone will think…”

Everyone would assume he’d gotten her pregnant. Arina ignored the way his eyes immediately went glassy, nostrils flared as his fingers stilled on the button of his shirt. “Regardless. It’ll be in the paper tomorrow morning. Your father, at least, will know the truth.”

“He’s not going to send a gift,” Arina told Eris dryly, slipping his shirt over her body. It smelled warm and spicy, the same as him. She knew he caught the way she buried her nose in the collar under the guise of pulling out her hair. Eris smothered a smile.

“I don’t want one of his fucking smart devices. I want to piss him off. It’s getting a nice, shiny write up in all the papers, this merger of families. Tell me, sweetheart. If you were a legitimate business man, how would you feel if your only daughter’s marriage connected you to the fucking mafia? Because it would make me really fucking nervous.”

“Really? You’d be nervous if your daughter married mafia?”

“I said if I was a legitimate businessman. I’m not, although no daughter of mine is going to marry some low-life mafia scum bag.”

“Like you?”

Eris grinned, sliding his belt through his pants. “Exactly.”

Arina huffed a sigh just in time for the doorbell to ring. Eris’s smile fell away. “Are you going to embarrass me in front of the priest?”

“I’m wearing your shirt and no underwear,” Arina replied dryly. “I would think you’re already embarrassed.”

“I’m aroused,” Eris clipped, glancing once at his phone with a frown. “Lets go, Arina. I don’t want–”

She ignored him to snatch that cursed vibrator off the dresser and smash it against the floor. Eris’s lips curled into a smile again, watching as she picked it up and hurled it against the wall. Plastic and wiring shattered, satisfying something angry in her chest.

“I could always just buy–”

She whirled, slapping him hard across the mouth. His eyes went wide—murderous and deadly. “If you ever tie that thing to me again, I will be a widow and I will drive everything you ever loved straight into the ground.”

“I’m going to fuck you in my bed tonight,” Eris growled, his fair skin blooming hot pink.

“I’m sure you think so,” Arina replied, turning her back to the predator behind her to flounce out. She knew better and Eris, a man who wasn’t used to being disobeyed—a man used to being feared—slammed her against the wall, his hand curling around her throat.

“Don’t ever fucking hit me again. Do you understand me?” he growled, his lips inches from her own. “I don’t care if you curse and scream my name and destroy everything I own—don’t ever touch me like that.”

“And you?” Arina asked, thinking of how Eris had been hauling her around without consideration as to if she liked it or not. “Are you still allowed to hit me?”

“Never,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “Never.”

“Lets go get married, then,” Arina replied, terrified of the moment unfolding between them. She saw herself looking through those amber eyes, of the unloved child who had done whatever they had to in order to survive. Brutality left a mark and no matter how Eris tried to hide it, she knew that look of fear all too well.

He rubbed a thumb over her cheek, lips parted as if he, too, felt the shifting between them. It was accidental, these two unloved kids who became deeply difficult adults. And as Eris pushed off the wall and yanked open the door, leading her towards the priest who would look the other way while Arina begrudgingly said yes, she wondered if fate hadn’t meddled, at least a little.

She wondered why she wasn’t more afraid.

ERIS:

“Do you consent to the marriage?”

“No.”

Eris replayed the exchange in his head furiously the entire drive back to the city. Arina, pen in hand, stared that priest down and dared him to help her. Of course Father Robers, the ancient, corrupt old fool had merely looked to Eris. Jaw set, he nodded at Arina and she’d signed her fucking name.

And that was that. She was too pleased with her little show of power, body angled away from him in the seat so he couldn’t dig his fingers into her thigh like he wanted to. Everything felt like shit and the one thing he’d wanted to hear her say—yes, I want this marriage—had been ripped away, a reminder that she was only here because she needed something from him and not because she wanted anything.

It burned him more than he was willing to admit. No one just wanted him. They wanted the mobster, the millionaire, the monster. Eris was afraid that she’d never want him. That her father would die and she’d take off somewhere he couldn’t hunt her down, would escape and he’d have to spend the rest of his life trying to find her.

It was humiliating to beautiful, immaculate Arina to have to walk through the lobby of his building in just his shirt. Eris watched how she shrank, too aware she lacked even a pair of shoes when her feet hit the sidewalk steps leading up. She tugged at the hem of his shirt, already hanging mid-thigh against her toned, golden skin. Eris watched the way everyone turned to look at her. Arina was too stunning for her own good, even when she wore nothing but a buttoned up shirt and too many men had immediately taken notice. His penthouse had a bustling lobby given it housed more than just apartments but professional offices and other work spaces where people filed in and out of the gleaming elevators.

Arina might have felt shame, feet bare against the immaculate, dark floor, but Eris felt jealous. Stupid for forgetting what he had. He was too quick to shrug off his jacket, to drape it over her body. Half ownership, half apology. She looked up at him with those wide, green eyes and all at once, Eris felt like a bastard.

Like his father, who always loved any chance to knock his mother down a peg or two. Clearing his throat as he pushed the button to the elevator, Eris murmured, “I should have gotten you something to wear.”

She only nodded, stepping closer when some young professional stepped beside them, the sort who didn’t belong in the private elevator with them, eyes sliding over her bare legs. Eris was all too happy to let her hide behind him now, leveling a cold, cruel stare at the man. The interloper moved away, no longer willing to take his chances.

“You’ll need a keycard for the elevator,” Eris told her once they were zipping upwards. She’d need a lot of things and Eris was uncomfortable by how willing he was to just give her access to his entire kingdom.

Arina opened her mouth to say something likely rude and utterly sassy.The sort of thing that would find her bent over his knee or sitting between his legs, mouth open. Eris never got to hear it. A loud, furious barkbarkbark! Reminded him that Tanwen had been watching Apollo all weekend while he’d been away. Apollo was a massive black and brown doberman he’d purchased as a puppy, initially for security though now Eris had to concede that though Apollo would likely rip out someone's throat if he ordered them to, Apollo’s main directive was cuddling.

“Oh God—” Arina squealed moments before the eighty pound dog sent her flying to the floor. He’d forgotten to warn her. Apollo hated almost everyone but Eris, had bitten all of his brothers at least once and had chased nearly every woman he’d ever tried to bring home out, to the point that Eris now fucked in hotels exclusively. He lunged, terrified for one flickering moment that he’d have to take Arina to the hospital…to find the dog licking her face.

“You left him here?” Arina accused, sitting up to scratch the silken ears of his beast. Eris gaped. Where was Apollo’s fire now? Considering that Arina was likely coated in his scent, and Apollo loved him, if nothing else, Eris relaxed.

“You feel bad for fighting me so hard now, don’t you? Apollo had to sleep all alone.”

Arina, sitting on the elevator, legs spread wide enough he could all but see her pussy, looked at the massive dog with delight.

“Apollo?” she asked in the most absurd, high-pitched baby voice he’d ever heard. “Is that your name? Apollo? Puppy of sun and light? Of music and poetry? The bestest boy–”

“Okay, alright,” Eris grumbled, stepping out of the elevator. “Where is this energy for your new husband?”

“Apollo never forced me to marry him with a vibrator. Did he? Because he’s the goodest boy? Isn’t he? My best little baby? A sweet puppy with the goodest face?”

Apollo whined, trotting just behind as Arina clambered to her feet and joined Eris in his apartment. For a moment, Arina was silent as she drank in the massive, three story space that he called home. Eris knew what she saw—immaculate wood floors and dark walls painted in shades of maroon and hunter green. A black and white rug on the floor tucked beneath rich, heavy furniture. Eris knew he gave off very minimalist vibes, that he seemed like a modern man with a gadget for everything. In truth, Eris had always wanted to live in some forest bound castle—not the prison his father had built, but something more akin to a library.

Shelves upon shelves of books lined the wall closest to the hall, drawing her interest. Most women went to the glass that overlooked the city and took a selfie. Arina went to his collection of rare first editions, running her fingers over the delicate spines with that same awed reverence. It hadn’t been a mistake to marry her. The thought came to him unbidden, hit him so hard it might have knocked him over had he not been holding the back of the couch.

“I can have your things packed up,” he said, aware his affection was making him sound soft. Arina didn’t notice as she pulled Ovid gently from one of the shelves, a 17th century reprint with gold leaf pages. “Or you can go later and get what you want.”

“Okay,” she breathed. Eris didn’t think she’d heard him at all. Only Apollo managed to snag her attention, butting his head against her bare shins demanding tribute in the form of face rubs.

Eris cleared his throat.

“C’mon. Let me show you the rest of the apartment.”

Arina nodded, gently putting the book back. She knew what it was worth, not perhaps monetarily but the value of the knowledge within. And Eris, who had looked her up, knew Arina had a masters degree in Art History though she wasn’t doing anything with it.

Not yet, he reminded himself.

Eris showed her the first floor, letting her poke around the kitchen and his office which connected to his little library. He’d always thought it was pathetic, too small to be anything worthwhile but to Arina, it was clearly everything. He could picture himself at his desk, the french door connecting the two rooms thrown open so he could occasionally peer in at his wife, tucked in one of those squashy leather chairs reading whatever struck her fancy.

And he wanted it so bad it made his chest ache. Normalcy. Someone who saw beneath the ice and loved what was beneath. If that was even possible. No one had ever loved Eris, not really. Not even his mother, who had been forced to marry and have children, who had only escaped when Beron died. She spoke to Lucien occasionally, her baby, but every call and email and text from Eris went unanswered.

Up winding wood steps took Arina and Eris to the third floor, skipping the second—which was more bedrooms, a lounge, and the bar his brothers often drank and played pool in, for their sprawling, massive bedroom. Another glass wall overlooked the city. Eris liked it best when it rained, enveloping him entirely in layers upon layers of gray clouds. Arina paused, sinking her bare feet into the cream rug stretching the length of the room. Apollo, the disaster, hopped up on the bed, wiggling his tail so hard his whole butt shook. He let her walk through the expansive bathroom and more open windows where she could bathe and stare down at her empire, if she liked.

Arina found the walk-in closet with delight and Eris was pleased something besides his collection of books made her happy. “C’mon. One last thing.” A door at the far end of the bedroom opened to six steps that took them up once again. “You have the roof?” she breathed, looking at his private, gleaming pool.

“What good is being king if you can’t have a little fun?” Eris asked her. Arina smiled, pacing the length, bare feet smacking against the tile. There were chairs to lay out and a barbeque if he ever felt so inclined, with tables and a firepit and a built-in bar Eris didn’t think he’d ever used. He’d had such plans when he’d bought the place, renovating specifically with thoughts of forever in mind. Of a wife, of friends and children and all the things he still didn’t have.

Stupid. Eris was so, so stupid. But he came to her, sweeping her thick, blonde hair off her shoulder. “Do you like it?” She went stiff, remembering she wasn’t supposed to. Eris steeled himself for her rejection, swallowed it as he put on his mask of indifference.

Arina turned, eyes wide and sweet.

“I love it.”

Fuck.

ARINA:

She didn’t trust him. Eris had let her bathe and when she’d come out, half her things were tucked in immaculate boxes. He’d asked her to pick out something classy, she assumed because he meant to parade her about and make a general mockery of this new marriage. Still, she’d been so excited to shave and put on something that belonged to her that Arina had done what he told her to.

Eris’s eyes had practically splattered at his feet when he saw the black sheath dress draped over her body. Good. He’d gotten too used to seeing her naked and crying. Let him see her in a bra, a good pair of heels, and a fair amount of make-up. All of Arina's life, people had been begging her to model. She assumed her looks had motivated Eris, at least in part to marriage though it was a bad reason to stake your life on. He was in another suit, phone in hand.

“Do I get my phone back?” she asked him.

“Are you going to tattle on me?” he replied. She scoffed. Who would ever believe her at this point? It was such an outlandish story, so unbelievable that if her pussy hadn’t still ached, she might have thought she made it up, too.

Back in the lobby, Arina was met with the same amount of covert leering, only this time she very much looked like Eris’s something instead of his whore. Girlfriend, wife, person he might get his knuckles bruised and bloodied for, if Eris was the kind of man who did any amount of fighting. He was hot, dressed in his immaculately fitting suit. Perfect hair, sculpted body, classic good looks…Arina had to admit that as far as men she’d gone out with went, Eris was the best looking of the bunch.

Of course, none of those men had ever tied a vibrator to her leg and demanded she marry them, either. She supposed it was a give and take.

Arina was so busy staring at Eris while pretending she wasn’t staring to notice where he was taking them. Only when his car pulled into the fire lane in front of the art museum did Arina have an inkling. A date? She bit her bottom lip, ignoring the red lipstick that was likely staining her teeth, while Eris jogged around and pulled open her door.

“Quick,” he muttered. “I don’t want a ticket.”

“Quick?”

“Yeah. I’ll come back for you in an hour,” he told her, guiding her up the sweeping sandstone steps towards the faux Greek pillars that led indoors. “Maybe an hour and a half if traffic is shitty.”

“You’re leaving me here?” she asked, hating how sad she felt. Eris pulled open the glass door smoothly, his mask of professionalism sliding over his features.

“Mr. Vanserra,” a woman’s voice drew Arina from her hurt. Crossing the marble checkered tile, an older woman in a pencil suit and brown hair graying at the temple made her way through the throngs of visitors meandering towards the ticket counter. He grinned, catching her by the arms to press two airy kisses to her cheeks.

“Elizabeth,” he said with a smile. “Call me Eris, please.”

But Elizabeth was looking at Arina with interest. “Is this her?”

“My wife,” Eris agreed with such obvious pleasure it made Arina all but jump. “She has a Masters in Art History though for the life of me, I can’t remember what her thesis was. She’ll tell you while reminding us both what a dreadful husband I am.”

Arina was staring at him like she’d never seen him before. How did he know that? She’d never told him and he’d never asked. “I leave her in your capable hands.” Arina turned to Eris only to find his mouth pressed against her own. “Good luck, sunshine,” he murmured, hand sliding over the small over her back. And then he was gone. Arina watched him go, stunned he knew anything about her that didn’t revolve around what lay between her legs.

Bewildered, Arina turned to Elizabeth, who offered Arina her arm. “You know Eris?”

She didn’t know what else to say. Elizabeth smiled.

“He’s one of our more generous patrons. When he emailed yesterday and asked me to meet with you, well…” she looked Arina up and down for a moment. “I’ve been trying to fill this position for a while. Tell me about your thesis and the work you’ve done.”

Oh, God. Eris had called in a favor to help her get a job?

She’d just assumed he meant to keep her tied up in his bedroom. Arina had felt relieved when she saw how big his apartment was. It was still a prison but a spacious prison and one with a pool and netflix. This, though…this meant Eris wanted her to have a life outside him. Something to do.

The time flew. Arina talked about her passion for art and history and the way she thought it tied humanity's past to the present. She and Elizabeth gushed over sharing the same alma mater and Elizabeth had taken Arina down into the collection and they’d talked about how to create an experience that drew people in, to bring in visitors that typically felt shut out of the museum.

And when they came back to that massive atrium, Eris was waiting just beside the door, a knowing smile on his face. Her heart fluttered at the sight, an entirely new emotion given their particularly difficult history.

“All yours,” Elizabeth said with a smile. Eris slid something into Arina’s hand when she came to him under the guise of wrapping an arm around her waist. “Eris, you’ll forward her e-mail so we can stay in touch?”

He’d given her a phone. Her phone. “I can give it to you right now, if you want. My phone number, too,” Arina added, flipping on the screen to see Apollo’s snoot staring back at her. Her eyes flicked to Eris and the wicked amusement burning in his eyes. She was sure he’d gone through everything, the fucking snoop.

“I’d love that.”

Arina left practically vibrating, ignoring how good it felt to have Eris just beside her. “It went well, I guess?”

“How did you know?” she asked, nearly breaking her neck to look up at him.

“You think I didn’t google my own fucking wife?” Eris joked. “I like Elizabeth a lot. She’s passionate and smart and has an eye for things other people miss. And when I saw you pick out that book in my office, you reminded me of her. All I did was merely ask a favor. You did everything else.”

“And you’d really let me work?”

“Are you offering to sit beneath my desk every day?” he teased, pulling open the car door for her. It was midafternoon and Arina had gone from a vibrator between her legs and married against her will to a job in the nicest museum in the city in the span of hours. She started to scoff, turning her head to survey the street.

And paused. A man, standing at the bus stop a few feet away, watched her with a familiar looking phone in hand. A Novak phone. He lifted it, capturing the moment between her and Eris. Her father was trailing them, she realized. Arina kept her smile on her face, reaching for Eris’s neck to pull him down for a kiss.

“We’re being followed,” she murmured, her nose brushing his own. It was an intimate moment between lovers. Hardly a captive desperate to escape. What did he make of her and Eris, she wondered. What would he think of the picture?

Eris grinned. “I love when they make it easy. Get in the car, sunshine. I’ve got one more thing for you.”

“No more—” he snapped the door shut in her face before she could finish, the dismissive asshole.

He joined her in the driverseat, looking across her through the tinted window. “That fuck?” he asked. “You know him?”

“No,” she replied. “But only people who work for dad use his terrible phones.”

Eris chuckled. “Fair. Let's go home and take Apollo for a walk. See if we’re really being followed or this was just a fluke.”

“You think I’m being paranoid?” It hurt her feelings right up to the moment Eris pressed his mouth against her own.

“I think you’re the perfect mob wife,” Eris told her, amber eyes dark again. That familiar desire was threading through him, weaving its way around her, too. “My smart girl.”

“Stop doing that,” she complained, pressing her knees together.

“No. You like it,” he retorted.

“I…why do you call me sunshine?” Arina asked, thinking to the old nickname he’d never properly explained.

“You radiate it,” he replied. “You’re pure sunlight.”

“Like Apollo?” she questioned. Eris frowned, eyes focused on the traffic in front of him.

“I suppose.”

“Are you looking for sunlight, Eris?”

She shivered when he looked over at her.

“Maybe I am.”

ERIS:

Eris spent the evening poking through Arina’s fathers business and everyone that was close to him. Arina spent the evening hanging clothes in his closet. It was all so domestic that for a moment, Eris could envision a different past for them. One where he’d taken her on a date and fucked her properly, no ropes required.

He had no regrets. He could be sentimental when he wanted to be but his start with Arina was exactly as it should be.

“Come here,” he murmured when night fell. His eyes ached from staring at a screen. Part of him felt as if he’d run a marathon, felt as if he must have been married to her for years and not mere hours. Arina poked her head from the closet, eyes narrowed.

“Is this the part where I thank my benevolent master with a sloppy kiss?” Eris was going to spank her. Spank her until her ass was so sore she couldn’t sit tomorrow and then fuck her pussy raw. She saw it on his face, saw the way his body shifted as he rose from the chair beside the windows.

“Eris,” she murmured, one hand outstretched. He only shook his head.

“Is that gratitude?” he murmured, lunging when she tried to dart for the bedroom door. He caught her by the waist, hauling her flailing body over his shoulder just long enough to avoid getting kicked in the jaw—this time, at least—while disorienting her. Eris crawled up her toned body, dressed in absurdly short shorts and a little bitty crop-top.

“I’m not going to say thank you,” Arina complained, writhing against his knees pinning her wrists to the bed.

“Hard to say anything when you’re choking on my fucking cock,” he crooned, pulling his belt from the loops. He ignored the way her eyes tracked the movement, waiting to see if he’d go back on his promise. He had no intention of hitting her with anything but his open palm and would have stopped if he ever truly thought some depraved part of her didn’t like it. He’d felt how wet her pussy was when he’d done it the first time.

Freeing himself, Eris rubbed his half hard erection against her pretty, angry face. “Will it always be such a fight between us?” Eris asked, thinking of the handcuffs in his bedside table. It was wholly an accident they remained there—Eris had dumped restraints atop that piece of furniture ages ago and when he didn’t want the maid to think he was a mobster, he’d merely swept them into the drawer so she could think he was a pervert.

The truth, it seemed, was smack dab in the middle.

Arina writhed, bucking her hips and fuck he wanted to see her hands cuffed to the headboard, wanted her helpless while he took her from behind. His cock practically bruised with arousal, pooling a little bead of precum he promptly smeared all over her lips.

“Answer me, sunshine. Do you plan to fight me until we die?”

“You like the fight,” Arina breathed, her breath warming him. Eris smiled, cupping her cheek.

“Just once, I would like to see you admit you want me.”

“You should consider a different wife, then,” Arina replied. Eris chuckled, lifting one thigh off her to drape it across her torso, cock wedged between her bouncy tits while he reached for those handcuffs. Arina realized only a moment too late, reaching up a hand to shove just so he could slide it into the cuff and clip it to the little metal bar that held the mattress and the wood. The position forced her to arch her back just a little. Eris sighed with pleasure, securing the other.

“You are too fucking pretty,” he told her, sliding off her body to undress himself. “And I’m starting to worry I want you too much.”

“Sounds pathetic,” Arina panted, her head pressed to the dark wood. She tried to pull her hands up but unlike rope, the metal restraints were far less forgiving.

It was torture, letting the fabric of his clothes drag across his needy, sensitive skin. To feel the slide of her eyes against him even as pouty, full lips lied.

Naked, Eris went to her shorts. Arina tried to kick but it was half-hearted, even of her. He couldn’t help his chuckle, shimmying the white fabric off her bronzed skin to reveal the pretty red thong just beneath.

“For me?” he whispered, unable to look at anything but the lace tucked between her bare pussy lips. “And here I was, thinking you didn’t care.”

“It’s just underwear,” Arina complained, as if Eris didn’t plan to coat them in his come. He slid his hands up over her stomach, pushing the fabric of her shirt to her neck.

“It’s a gift,” he murmured with appreciation. “Just like you. All wrapped up for me…and I’ll bet, if I touch, that pussy is drenched.”

She didn’t say a word, instead clamping her knees as best she could, Eris was firmly wedged in the cradle of her thighs. He didn’t warn her, didn’t prepare her at all, as he set out to prove he was right about her want. Cock hovering above her entrance, the lacy fabric pushed to the side, Eris lowered his mouth to one of her breasts to capture one dusky nipple between his teeth and slammed his cock from root to tip into her body.

Arina bowed off the bed with a scream, pulling so hard at her restraints the bedframe groaned. He’d only meant to stay inside her for one stroke, had always intended to pull back out and spank her ass for her smart mouth.

“Fuck,” Eris panted when the silky soft walls of her cunt wrapped around. “Fuck, sunshine. You’re so goddamn tight.”

A tear slipped down her cheek when he pushed again. Arina used the pillow beneath her head to wipe it away, swallowing hard.

“That hurt,” she whispered and Eris swore he wanted to care. Eris nipped at her breast, pushing again and again until he was dragging more of the slick desire from her body. She whimpered when he tugged too hard with his teeth, yanking again at her restraints.

Eris hovered over her face, forcing his desperate body to slow the fuck down. He was too wild, more animal than man as he thrust into his brand new wife but fuck, no pussy had ever felt so good, so hot and wet. Eris smoothed her hair off her face, pressing his lips to her temple. He was too afraid she wouldn’t kiss him back, was back to hating him.

“Tell me the name of every man who has ever fucked you,” he ordered, pumping furiously. Her hips arched, the walls of her cunt fluttering. God, he marveled. Was she going to come?

Arina whimpered. “Why?”

“So I can kill him,” Eris replied, keeping his cock exactly where it was, dragging the blunt end over the softest part of her skin. Arina was panting, her eyes rolling upwards. “I don’t want anyone to know what this pussy feels like. You’re mine. Look at me when you come Arina.”

Her eyes snapped to his face, blazing and dark, the prettiest shade of green he’d ever seen. “You’re mine,” he said again, searching her expression for her agreement. There was no defiance, only that open, bald desire he was so attracted to.

“Say it!”

Arina’s body bowed off the bed again, a sobbing cry wrenched from her throat. Eris inclined his head to the ceiling when she clenched punishingly tight, the feel of her heart pounding against his aching cock. She was practically dripping and when Eris pulled back to look, he could see her orgasm coated white against his swollen skin.

“Yours,” Arina managed, choking out the word when Eris gripped her hips, angling her off the bed so he could drive hard and deeper, fuck her the way he suspected she wanted. Rough and messy, his strokes were bruising to him, too. Each harsh push elicited a gasp, his cock as vicious as he felt.

“No one fucks you right, do they?” he panted, unable to tear his eyes off her sweaty face, her bouncing breasts. Lips parted so she could gulp down air he was punching from her lungs, Arina whined.

“Tell me or I might stop,” he murmured, purposefully slowing his hips when all he really wanted to do was pour himself into her. He could feel soft lace brush against his sopping skin, dragging her arousal away with a teasing caress.

“No one fucks you the way you want, do they?” he pressed. “Like a whore? Like my little slut?”

She nodded her head, teeth sinking into that plush, bottom lip.

“They fuck you like a pretty princess. Fragile. Breakable. Made. Of. Glass.” Eris punctuated each word with a near violent press of his cock. She was rolling her hips, lifting to meet him. She widened her legs, tightening around him rhythmically again and God, Eris thought watching her come again might be the closest he ever got to a religious experience.

“They don’t know what a vicious thing you are, do they?” Eris crooned. Her eyes, half-lidded and heavy with desire, looked at him with some new, soft emotion that made Eris feel raw. Important.

Cared for.

He blinked it away.

“You’re my vicious wife,” he praised, stroking and stroking until Arina arched up again, her legs clamping around his waist. He could feel her trembling, could see the way her pussy gaped and sucked, looking for that last little push, that one small thing that would take her right over the edge.

“Take it, Arina,” he begged, his own orgasm barrelling towards him. “Take it all.”

She screamed again, writhing and twisting to escape the unrelenting pleasure that he was sure pained her. Arina’s cunt practically milked release from his body, holding him so tight Eris was rutting against her, no better than an animal. He couldn’t stop, gasping and panting as he poured and poured–more come than he was used to. It was some sort of magic she had, some special ability to empty his balls and take his soul right along with it.

“Oh my God,” Eris breathed, sheathing his cock to watch come slide down her body and pool against his dark bedsheet.

“Unrestrain me right fucking now,” Arina panted. It took Eris a moment to regain control of his limbs, to press his chest against her own as he slid in the key and freed her. He waited for her wrath, her violence, but the moment Arina had control of her hands, she reached for his face and kissed him roughly. There were tears in her eyes when she pulled back and Eris couldn’t help himself.

“Come here, come here,” he murmured, tugging her against him so she was cradled against his chest while he reclined against the pillows. Smoothing out her hair, Eris peppered kisses against her scalp. “You were so good,” he praised, over and over until the tension in her body eased and she unfurled her body to lay against him.

“You were good, too, Eris,” she whispered, running a hand over his bare chest. “I feel like no one ever tells you that. You were good, too.”

“I’m not good, Arina,” he replied. He couldn’t have her thinking he was some kind of prince, even a dark one. Eris was very firmly the villain, would always be the bad guy.

“You’re good to me,” she replied, pressing a kiss to his stomach. “I don’t care about anyone else.”

“You don’t mind if I burn the whole world?” he questioned, breath hitching his throat at the sight of her fingers trailing over the thin strip of auburn hair leading towards his cock.

“As long as I’m with you,” she replied. “The whole world can suffer.”

And suffer, he suspected, they would.

ARINA:

Freedom.

Or something like it. Married for a week, Arina was allowed unrestricted access to everything Eris owned. His fleet of cars, his money, his apartment. If Arina wanted to go to the gym, a car was waiting when she stepped into the lobby. If she wanted to spend an obscene amount of money, Eris’s credit card was in her bag, her own name added to the heavy black metal. And when Elizabeth called two days after the impromptu interview and offered Arina the job, Eris had merely congratulated her over the phone and then later that night with his mouth against her body.

He was all wrong and nothing like she expected. At night, after he fucked her raw and stupid, he’d lay out everything he knew about her father and how to get close to him. Arina smiled and filled in the answers to his questions, knowing full well the best way to get to her father was to merely start moving through the world again.

Which was exactly what Arina was doing. Spoiled and dripping in designer clothes, she knew he was watching. Furious that she’d embarrassed him more than once. That Eris had tried to blackmail him through the daughter he didn’t want and instead of killing her, had married her. Her father had never found any value in Arina—why should anyone else?

And so, it was freedom to eschew the car and walk that day, taking the subway like she had in the past. Eris would have killed her if he knew but Eris was too busy with his empire to track his wife. He trusted her to his detriment and Arina almost loved him for it. It would have been so easy to put a leash on her, to let her languish in his gilded cage. It was why Arina kept his phone number queued in her phone at all times–just in case.

He would come if she needed him.

The museum was Arina’s new, favorite place. It was more than just a favor that Eris called in; some write-off he liked to pretend didn’t matter. To Arina, who had never felt smart or special or worth anything, stepping into the tiny office on the fourth floor meant everything to her. Eris, who could have done nothing at all, had taken the time.

Had seen her.

He’d put an absurdly large diamond on her hand just the night before, demanding she wrap her hand around his cock so he could enjoy what he paid for, if only once. Arina wondered if he hadn’t chosen that ring, delicate and beautiful as it was, imagining the hand job he’d get later. Eris was so fussy like that.

Heals clacking against the marble, Arina wove through the emptied atrium of the four block, sprawling complex that housed more art than Arina could appreciate in a year. It wasn’t for a lack of trying, of course. Those twilight hours of dawn and dusk, when there was no one around but her and Arina could wander to her heart's content, had done something to soften her aching, wounded soul.

She was sitting in front of a Renaissance painting, examining the expression with studious, careful eyes, when Eris texted.

Late tonight. Order something for dinner.

What was late to a man who was never in any earlier than ten? Arina merely sent a sad face and called for a car. There would be no subway tonight, not when the sun had already set. Not when it was Eris and his ilk roaming the streets like predators. Someone would surely tattle and she’d have to listen to some self-important lecture from a man who was easily bested by her foot against his jaw.

She waited on the steps, leaned against a pillar to scroll at the endless options for dinner when that black car rolled up. Just like Eris, it stopped in the fire lane. Arina hurried down, ignoring the way her feet ached from a day in heels and yanked open the door.

“Daddy?” she breathed, staring into the backseat with an all-too familiar face.

“Get in,” he ordered, a gun resting on his knee. That was new. Arina did as she was told, sliding into the seat carefully.

“Where did you get a gun?”

“It’s not hard,” he dismissed, looking to the rearview mirror where his driver watched. Arina paused.

“Where is my driver?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Dead.

Since when had her father become a killer?

The car zipped into the night, her father’s leg bouncing beside her. She glanced towards the man who’d given her life, who had tried so hard to make every minute of it miserable. His dirty blonde hair was graying at the temples, blue eyes wrinkled at the corners. He was still in good shape, still handsome. She could see the whisper of what her mother had once found so appealing. She knew when he’d wanted to be, he could be kind and soft—just enough to keep her mom guessing, from doubting herself.

Wedged between her body and the unyielding car door, Arina pressed the button that would silently dial Eris. She glanced down, furious to see he hadn’t picked up. A text fluttered over her screen instead and Arina could just imagine his annoyance.

What do you need?

She needed him. Arina dialed again and again and again, all of which went unanswered. In every scenario she’d imagined, she’d never pictured a gun and she certainly hadn’t envisioned Eris too busy to help. Deciding to try one last time, Arina turned to her father, unable to look and see Eris reject her.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked him, unfamiliar with the part of town they were rolling towards.

“So many questions,” he murmured, staring out his window and the blur of white and red tail lights streaking past. “When it’s me who should be asking you what you think you’re fucking working.”

She might have been eight years old again, staring at her towering father while he demanded why she was so noisy. Arina swallowed, heart in her throat. “Working.” He scoffed. “Working? My daughter hasn’t worked a day in her life.”

She didn’t let that hurt her feelings. “You just picked me up from work. You know where—”

“And Vanserra? What is that?”

He turned the full weight of his hatred on her and not for the first time, Arina wondered why he’d ever wanted a family at all. She knew he’d wanted more but some hiccup with her mother had prevented it. Was it sons that he was after? Or just the veneer of happiness? Of a man in love?

Arina felt shame wash over her.

“That video he sent me…” her father clicked his teeth. “Everyone saw, Arina.”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “What?”

“Well, of course we had to send it to the lawyers,” he replied smoothly. “And I had some colleagues look…I don’t want to see my own daughter that way.”

“You…” Arina had never considered, in a million years, that her own father would hand out what amounted to pornography of her.

A cruel look spread over her fathers face. Lips curled over too-straight teeth, he said, “I wanted to know if you were trying to extort me, too. I’m sure your little shopping trips are eating at your inheritance.”

Arina took a breath. “So you showed that video to everyone…in order to determine if I was enjoying myself?”

He glanced towards the window. “Yes.”

“And what did you learn?”

He didn’t look at her. “That it didn’t matter, as you married that fucking bastard anyway.”

Arina opened her mouth to protest, to insist she hadn’t wanted to but why was she trying to defend herself to her father? It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. It wouldn’t have mattered if Eris put a gun in her mouth and ordered her to sign that piece of paper. All he saw was a disappointment and nothing Arina could have done, no amount of defiance, would have ever changed that.

“Is that why you’re here? You wanted to give me a wedding gift?”

The car halted in front of an unfamiliar building on the outskirts of town. Arina’s blood ran cold when she saw that dilapidated front, practically leaning against the night sky. The building beside it had been burned to the ground and though she couldn’t prove it, Arina just assumed it must have been intentional. She glanced at the phone in her hand, miserable when she realized Eris had hung up on her again.

Her father looked at her again, his face illuminated orange beneath a flickering street lamp. “Men like Vanserra kill as often as they fuck. So he married you last week. This week your body is rotting down by the docks. No one notices, no one mourns. All they have is a little video of him torturing you for cash. Vanserra goes to jail and you go…wherever disappointing whores of daughters spend their eternity.”

She couldn’t look away, her heart pounding heavily in her chest.

“He thought he could fucking break me? I’m not you,” he whispered, pulling open his door. “I’ll see you both six feet under before this is done.”

She stayed in her seat, letting the cool air flood into the climate controlled car. The driver didn’t so much as look at her, his gloved hands gripping the steering wheel. How much had he been paid to look the other way.

“Get out, Arina,” her father ordered. Her legs uncurled from beneath her and Arina slid along that backseat until her immaculate black heels were pressed against the filthy, crumbling asphalt.

Glass crunched beneath her shoes, punctuating the sound of a siren somewhere in the distance.

“You’re going to kill me?” Arina asked as he led her towards the rotting boards attempting to keep people from squatting in the condemned building. It reeked of urine and decay. This was where she was going to die. Arina had given very little thought to the how and when but surely it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Would Eris avenge her? It was a strange thought as she stepped onto gray office carpet half peeled from the floor. He barely knew her. Maybe her father was right. Married one week, divorced the next. Eris had only ever wanted money, besides. He was wily. He’d figure it all out, would keep himself from a prison cell.

Darkness flooded her vision as her father turned, framed by that crumbling doorway. “I think you’ve killed yourself, Arina.”

He pointed that gun only to hesitate, his eyes sliding behind her. Arina felt fingers curl over her shoulders for only a moment, dragging the familiar spicy, masculine scent of Eris Vanserra. “I’d think about your next move very carefully,” he murmured, hands sliding off her body. Eris sounded lethal, angrier than she’d ever heard and yet his voice was controlled–almost calm. She couldn’t suppress the shiver that raced up her spine. Standing beside her, Eris’s cold, imperious face was illuminated in a sliver of artificial light pouring from a broken window. She’d forgotten how dangerous he was.

“You first, then,” her father clipped, pointing that gun at Eris’s chest. Eris smiled, and Arina screamed, taking two steps towards him when that shot rang out.

Not him, not him, not— Three more shots rang out though she didn’t see them, not her body seemed to explode in every direction. She didn’t even realize she was falling until she collided with the filthy ground. All she felt was a burning so potent she even her hair seemed to ache. She thought she was on fire.

She groaned without meaning to when something—someone—wrenched her off the floor and into the air. Eris was staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. “You have blood on your face,” she breathed, trying to focus on anything but the way her body seemed to be crumbling. That amber color, flecked with brown, kept Arina from closing her eyes.

“Why would you do that?” he demanded. Were they walking? Arina couldn’t figure out what was happening. “Why would you–” Eris sucked in a ragged breath, stilling, still holding her desperately. “I was waiting. He couldn’t hurt me. Arina, look at me. Look at me right now, sunshine. Tell me why you did that!”

“Not you,” she whispered, struggling to get the words out on her heavy tongue. “I didn’t want it to be you who died.”

“Arina, look at me,” he demanded but it couldn’t be helped. Arina tried to reach for his face, the one she’d come to love inexplicably. She wanted to tell him.

I love you.

She didn’t know what happened after that.

But the pain was gone.

ERIS:

It took Arina four fucking days to wake up. Eris didn’t take her to a hospital like a good husband would have because, despite the bullet in her back, doctors called the cops. And cops liked to ask questions Eris couldn’t answer—like where Novak was, which was chopped up and tossed into the river. Of course, they were looking for him anyway but it was hardly Eris’s fault if Novak just up and vanished. He had a perfectly reasonable alibi, besides. He’d been in court all night and his wife worked at the museum and no, you couldn’t talk to her thank you very much.

Eris had begged Elizabeth to push Arina’s start date back given her father’s disappearance and Arina, the sweet, lovely thing, had made such an impression that Elizabeth didn’t even mind. It left him only to tend to his wife, treated in a warehouse by the docks by the butcher, which was really just Conall who had become a surgeon rather than another lawyer.

She’ll live, his brother had said, eyeing him with distaste. As if Eris needed the reminder that he’d failed her, had let her get hurt. He couldn’t stop replaying that moment, her fear, how she’d stepped in front of a goddamn gun to keep him, a worthless criminal, from dying.

Or her last, whispered words.

I love you.

Eris was working that morning, the sun filtering brightly into the bed. And Arina, still as always, unaware he curled himself against her every night and begged for her forgiveness, moaned. He stilled, snapping his laptop shut to look at her. Apollo lay at her feet, tail thumping loudly on the bed. Eris let his dog slowly crawl up the bed, sniffing at her neck hopefully. Arina raised an arm and pushed.

“Stop it,” she whispered. “I mean it, Eris. Not right now.”

“Is that what my breath smells like?” he asked dryly, heart pounding in his chest. She peeked open an eye, her face entirely too pale, too exhausted for his liking. “Dog?”

“I didn’t even notice,” she admitted, curling her fingers in invitation to join. Eris hesitated.

“Arina,” he began, earning an exasperated sigh he didn’t think was warranted. “You were shot.”

She winced. “Is my father—”

“Dead. Very, very dead.”

Her eyes closed, a small smile curving against her lips.

“You…” he didn’t know where to even start with her. Arina looked up at him again, eyes wide and trusting.

I love you.

“So you got what you wanted, then?” she questioned. “The money, I—”

“You almost fucking died,” Eris snapped. “Fuck the money, Arina, I almost lost you.”

Her mouth formed a soft oh. “I’m okay.”

Eris dragged a hand through his hair. He must have aged a million years between that bullet and now. Opening and closing his mouth, trying desperately to get the words out, Eris went to her, sitting gently on the edge of the bed. “Why would you…”

He pressed the back of her hand to his lips, well aware she could feel how he was shaking. Arina waited, lacing her fingers through his while Apollo rested his head on her shoulder. “You shouldn’t…You shouldn’t—”

“Eris,” she whispered. “What are you trying to ask me?”

“Why would you step in front of a gun for me?” he rasped, the words raw even to his own ears. “Don’t say–”

“Because I love you,” she whispered, not looking away from him. “I didn’t plan it. I just did it.”

Eris laid himself out on the bed, face down as he buried himself into the crook of her neck. “I was wearing a vest. If he’d shot me, it would have only bruised. I came prepared…Lucien was just behind him. You..”

“I didn’t know,” she replied, dragging her nails through his hair.

“Why wouldn’t you assume?”

“I’ve known you for two weeks, Eris,” she reminded him. “I didn’t even think you were coming–”

A miserable groan escaped his throat. “You thought I–”

“Just say it, Eris,” she whispered. “Say the words you’re trying to get out.”

He looked down at her, beautiful face bruised from the lack of sleep. Holding her in his hands, he murmured. “I would lay the word at your feet, Arina. I think I’ve loved you since I first saw you. Smart, beautiful, sunshine.”

“Your wife,” she added, earning a grin he couldn’t help.

“Goddamn right,” he agreed. “My vicious, fearless wife.”

“How bad was it?” she asked, wincing as she tried to twist herself up.

“Connal will be by later to check. You’re not supposed to exert yourself—”

“My job,” she breathed, eyes filling with horror for the first time since she’d woken. Eris ought to have known the death of her father would unphase her but the possibility she’d lose that spot at the museum would fill her with dread.

“Safe,” he promised as he helped her sit upright. Arina eyed him for a moment with open suspicion.

“So…until I’m well, I’m supposed to just lay in your bed? Unrestrained?”

He smiled again. “Our bed, wife. Our bed. And I will restrain you if you keep sassing me. I have a documentary on world war two ships—”

“Okay, alright. Help me to the bathtub, Eris. I know I smell just as bad as your dog mouth.”

Eris kissed her forehead.

“Whatever you say.”

~ Two years later ~

“A package, Mrs. Vanserra,” the doorman told her the very moment she stepped into the building. Arina nodded, following him towards the front desk where he handed her a clipboard to sign before offering up a thick white envelope.

“Thanks Curt,” she murmured with a smile, striding to the elevator. A neon yellow manicured nail slid through the glue as the elevator raced upwards, taking her home. She’d just removed the tacky lip from the heavy paper when the doors dinged open and Apollo barked, pulling her attention from the mail.

“Hey, baby,” she murmured, reaching to scratch his ears as she tossed the mail forgotten to the side table by the door. Arina unbuttoned her jacket, tossing it to the couch as she passed through, well aware it would bother Eris. He still hated mess, a tragedy given who his wife was. She didn’t care. Phone in hand, Arina saw Eris’s last message.

Home in five. Want dinner?

She unzipped the back of her dress, leaving it pooled on the floor. She did this with the rest of her clothes, draping her bra over a doorknob and her underwear on a chair, until she was in nothing but her tall white pumps. She heard the elevator ding just as she reached the dining room, smiling when she heard Eris’s sigh of exasperation.

“Your mother is a mess,” he muttered to Apollo. How long would it take him to find her, perched on the dining room table, legs spread right in front of his chair? Embarrassingly long was the answer. His nice shoes clipped over the hardwood, stopping in practically every room. Arina smothered a smile when his irritation gave way to fascination.

“Sunshine?” he all but purred and she wondered if he’d found the panties or the bra. “Where are you hiding?”

So dumb. Eris was the smartest man she’d ever met and somehow also the dumbest. She merely waited, elbows starting to ache from the unyielding wood beneath her. Didn’t he know posing like this was supposed to be a quick thing? Arina knew the moment she sat up he’d come strolling in and the whole mood would be ruined.

Jacket tossed casually over his arm, Eris strolled in her clothes in one hand, the mail in the other. His lips curled upwards, eyes burning with want. “Is this dinner?” he asked, tossing everything in his hands to the chair beside him.

“Do you want it to be?” she asked, heart pounding with arousal. Eris was unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them to his elbows. She wanted him to take it all off but Eris loved a good game.

“Considering I had to skip breakfast,” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her pussy. And that was true. She’d heard his phone ringing shrilly at four am, had heard his soft, furious rumblings before he stormed out, foregoing his usual morning foreplay before work. “I’m starving.”

Arina squealed when he lunged, his fingers curling roughly against her thighs. Yanking her against the edge of the table, Eris pressed slow, hot kisses against the inner part of her leg.

“Are you going to tell me how your day was?” Eris murmured. “Or are we to eat in silence?”

Arina pressed the toe of her shoe against his neck. “Shut up, Eris,” she panted, earning a deliciously dark look in response.

“Is that so? My wife wants me to stop talking? You know, I had a difficult day. Perhaps I would like to discuss it at length–”

She surged forward and shoved at his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

“You’re too in love with the sound of your own voice,” she complained when he chuckled, kissing the lips of her cunt softly.

“Wrong, as alway. I’m only in love with you.”

Eris pushed her back roughly. That was one thing that had never changed, in the two years she’d known him. His demanding hands, his proclivity to be rough, to edge her pleasure with pain. His teeth nipped at her skin, tugging just enough to convince her to lay flat on her back for him. Pulling her legs over his shoulders, Eris watched her through his auburn lashes, a wicked smile gracing his face.

“No clever words now?” he taunted, licking a wet stripe up the center of her body. Arina exhaled. “My pretty wife has become spoiled. You’re too used to having your pussy eaten…maybe I should dig out that vibrator–”

“Eris!” Arina pleaded, already throbbing from that one little touch. He offered her one last look, the sort that betrayed his own shredding control before he descended like the rabid animal she knew he was. With that first brutal sucking of his lips over her clit, Arina was reminded there was truly nothing soft or sweet about this man. Not truly. What did it say about her that she craved the way he came at her, the way he handled her.

Forceful fingers pushed into her dripping pussy, the very same that had liked wrapped themselves around a trigger that morning. Pleasure for her, pain for everyone else. The things Eris cared about were minuscule and the things he was willing to go to war for? Well, perhaps only his family. His brothers…her.

Arina was burning, her nails scraping against the wood as Eris held her tight against his face. His mouth alternated between soft, almost languid swipes and brutal, demanding nips and sucks while his fingers fucked her without mercy. It was a preview of what he’d do with his cock just as soon as he was satisfied.

“Please,” she begged, getting that out of the way before he could order it from her. “Eris, please—”He sucked again, tongue lavishing praise over the unhooded flat of her clit. It was permission and thank God. Arina’s urge to climax was practically a hair trigger, her scream of pleasure bouncing off the glass around them. Eris kept her where she was, still thrusting his fingers, still licking and sucking and nipping until that second orgasm ripped through her just the way he liked. Unwilling and desperate, her body forced to bend to his will.

Eris was on her again, kissing her roughly, tongue behind her teeth so she had to taste herself. “You’re dripping,” he panted, fumbling with his pants. “You made a mess of me.”

“I think you like a little mess,” Arina breathed, letting him flip her to her stomach, his warm hands surprisingly gentle against her skin. She felt him knead her ass with his usual appreciation—Eris was nothing if not an ass man, after all. He punctuated his sweetness with a hard slap to her cheek, groaning when he heard her gasp.

“I hate mess, Arina. If you keep that drippy pussy of yours sliding all over my table, I’m going to have to clean it up.”

God, she wished he would. Arina would have died to watch him lick her off that table. There was no time to truly ponder it. Hips arched, Eris offered no preamble to that first violent thrust, the kind that promised to bruise the walls of her cunt, that meant she’d feel him every time she sat down for at least a day. Maybe two, depending on how long he could draw himself out. Sometimes Eris had the same quick urge, could just barely restrain himself.

Tonight, his hand wrapped around her throat, his other pressed against the hole of her ass, Arina knew he would be quick. If he was touching her like this already, it meant he needed her to come with the least amount of effort on his part so he could, too.

It meant he’d be on her again in an hour to make up for his lack of time. He wouldn’t be so rough the second time around, would spend more time kissing, rolling his hips until she was breathless and whiny. It would be a slow build, one he controlled entirely and when she came, it would only because Eris willed it.

Now, though, he just needed her to do exactly as he said. “Are you going to coat me in your come again?” he asked, his voice more grunt than anything. Gone was his elegance, replaced with the frenzied thing pumping brutally into her. “I want to see it,” he added, slapping her ass again.

She moaned, trying to press her forehead against the table so she could arch her hips and take him deeper, could feel that violent stretch everywhere. Arina was so full, so brutally hot. Eris kept his grip, tightening his fingers against her windpipe until all she could do was draw shallow, panting gasps.

“I can feel that tight pussy,” Eris all but begged. “Take it, Arina. Come fo–”

She tried to scream but Eris held tight, drawing only a choked moan as Arina came violently, spasming around him so hard he could only rut his own release with a grunting plea to a God she knew he didn’t really believe in.

He released her throat to drop his head against her shoulder blades. Kissing her skin, Eris withdrew, touching the spend dripping from her legs. She let him slide it over her swollen, sensitive clit.

“I think you should take out your birth control,” he murmured like he always did when he was still hazy with lust. He wanted a child in theory but Eris was terrible at sharing and Arina thought they had more than enough time.

“Mm,” she agreed noncommittally. He’d be back to being grateful she had it in twenty minutes when his head was clear and his floors were clean. Eris dropped into his chair, unbuttoning his shirt as Arina righted herself fully, letting him pull her into his lap as he reached for the mail.

“I do want to eat, you know,” he told her, kissing the top of her forehead. “Order something.” She twisted for her phone in the same chair he’d thrown her clothes on while Eris went for the envelope she’d begun to open.

She knew something was wrong before he said a word. His body, loose from the sex mere moments ago, became rigid and taut. Arina peered up at the hard set of his jaw, his furious eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“I know this woman,” he said, setting a photograph onto the table. Arina would never be used to the causal violence of his world, of the way men just snapped photos of naked, blindfolded women strapped to chairs. Her mind flickered, for only a moment, to Lucien and the girl he’d been holding before she banished it entirely.

This was me, once.

Arina pressed a kiss to Eris’s bare neck.

“Who is she?”

“Nesta Archeron,” he murmured, turning over the photograph as if it bothered him. “We went to school together. First in her class. I knew that last name was familiar…Archeron.”

Arina waited for Eris to expand on his turbulent thoughts.

“Lucien kidnapped that girl…Elain. Elain Archeron. Graysen has her sister.”

Arina pressed her head to his chest. “You should get her back, Eris.”

“I should fucking kill him,” he replied. “He’s going to drag us all down with his theatrics.”

She kissed again. “What does he want?”

Eris tossed the little letter to the table, letting it flutter against the photo. “Lucien, of course. There’s nothing he could ask me for I’d give him, though. He must know it.”

“I trust you to do the right thing,” she murmured, well aware the right thing would involve a messy murder she would pretend to know nothing about. Arina had become quite good at looking the other way while Eris washed blood off his hands at night.

He brushed stray pieces of hair from her face.

“C’mon,” he murmured, hauling her up into his arms. “Let me put you to bed before I deal with this.”

“Can’t be worrying about your wife?”

“I know what happens when I leave her unsatisfied,” Eris murmured, turning for the stairs, his fingers digging in her skin. “I can’t risk your wrath.”

Arina smiled. It was a strange life.

But it was hers.

#once again trusting the right people to find this #and everyone else to just stay away #mafia eris is not a nice man #but he IS a sexy one #and sometimes that just has to be enough #but this man in jail #but let him have a conjugal visit or two #the edit makes this seem really sweet #you know what though #hes doing some decent aftercare #dog mom arina

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