I whimper when he pulls away. And I don't control my mouth anymore.
"Don't stop," I blurt out.
His smirk shows me he knows exactly what he's doing, but I can't help what I need. It's sudden…thedesperation.
He brings two fingers to my clit, rubbing in loose circles until I'm writhing under him.
"More…please…"
"I know,mon trésor. I'm here." And he pushes inside my wet heat.
My legs fall open, and I buck against him, taking the pleasure selfishly until he stops.
"No!" I cry out.
"Open your mouth."
I do so in a split second. His eyes light up when he brings his fingers to my lips, and I suck on them wantonly. I curl my tongue around them, bobbing my head as if I'm sucking on his dick.
He's on me in the next second, pinning my wrists above my head with one hand as he guides himself between my legs. I was too lost in my desire to even notice he changed the condom.
Contrary to what he did earlier, he enters me in one thrust, fucking me so hard, I'm coming before I realize what's happening. His grip on my wrists is bruising, his thrusts vicious, his lips on my neck, his teeth biting, and I'm taking it all with no remorse.
I'm a malleable doll when we're done. I make it too easy for him to guide me until my head is resting on his chest. My eyes close without a second thought, forgetting that Chase is waiting for me at home.
Chapter Fifteen
Nyx
I always kinda knew you’d be the death of me – Artemas
Iwake up to the sound of a pencil scratching on paper and the sunlight shining too brightly on my closed eyelids. Every single memory from yesterday comes back like a slap in the face, and I shoot upright. Opposite the bed, Achilles sits on a chair with a notebook, rapidly scribbling. It's not just any notebook. It's a music manuscript book.
Achilles Duval is wearing nothing but gray boxers, composing music I inspired him to make while I sleep in his bed. What has my life become?
His muscly arm is moving in tandem with his writing, his hair falling over his bowed head, his defined abs shifting to the rhythm of his breathing.
This has to be a dream.
"Good morning,mon trésor," I hear him mumble, too focused on his art to look up.
He grabs something on the floor next to his chair, tossing it at me without a single look. My phone lands next to me on thebed, and I take it with one hand, the other holding the cover to my chest.
"Your boyfriend keeps calling. I silenced it so you could sleep."
"What?" I gasp. "Shit."
My eyes practically pop out of my sockets when I see the six missed calls from Chase. There are texts too, but I don't take the time to read them. Instead, I call him right away.
"I'm busy," he snaps coldly as he picks up. "Make it quick."
I'm already out of bed, looking for my clothes. I can't believe Achilles carried me all the way here after we had sex. It sounds too caring for him.
"I'm so sorry," I croak, my voice still sleepy.
"No, you're not." He snorts.
"I went to a friend's house on campus. You know? Peach? I drank too much and fell asleep here."
