Answering was only going to worsen my already-catastrophic situation. Best do what he said now and take my revenge later. I reached into his tented shorts, yanking down the waistband. His cock sprang out, cum dripping on his hoodie.
“Stroke it.” He took my hand and guided my moves along the length of it.
I spat on his cock defiantly to moisten it, adding some phlegm into the mix of spit.
He laughed in response, fastening my fingers over it. “Brat.”
I scowled at myself in the reflection of his black visor and knew he was staring as I jerked him off. His arms fell to his sides, and I pushed up his hoodie with one hand, tracing the tattoos of venomous snakes, skeletons, and cobwebs adorning his perfect form.
Desire roared in my veins. It quieted every other thought inside my head. I wanted him, badly, and I didn’t care the only way to get him was if he punished me for what had happened.
“You know, I paid your little shrink a visit when we were twenty-five,” he said, his tone wry and amused, while I was pleasuring him. My spine stiffened as his cock grew thicker and longer in my hand. “Asked him what the fuck was wrong with yo—no, don’t stop.Keep going.”
I tried to swallow a lump in my throat. Failed.
“Nice try.” I picked up the pace on his cock, wanting to yank it off his damn body. “Therapists don’t share information about their patients.”
“Apparently they do when there’s a gun aimed at their crotch,” Achilles said conversationally. “It’s amazing how persuasive I can be with a sour mood and a full chamber. Wanna know what he told me?”
No, I didn’t. In fact, I never stuck around long enough to get a diagnosis from a therapist. I didn’t even know which shrink he was talking about, I’d been to so many.
“Not particularly,” I said, pumping him harder and faster, suddenly wanting him to come and leave me the hell alone.
“He said when a child suffers a big trauma at a young age, they often get mentally and emotionally stuck at that age.Arrested development.He put your emotional maturity somewhere between fourteen and fifteen. Said you’ll stay this way until you work through your shit and accept what happened to you at the camp.”
Tears clung to my lashes. I didn’t want him to see me in a moment of weakness, so I breathed through my nose and tried to push through it, jerking him off faster.
Fucking come already.
“Oh, good. I’m ready for you now.” He flicked my hand off his dick, then grabbed the backs of my thighs. “Get on top.”
He was going to make me screw him after the things he’d said to me?
Why not? You just told him you betrayed him because he never meant anything to you.
I pushed my knees up and mounted him. He grazed my clit with the tip of his fingers. A shudder rippled through my entire body. His cock slid into me, my wet entrance accepting it eagerly—greedily—as he buried himself to the hilt. This position was so much better than the one on the plane because now he was hitting my G-spot, curled all the way there, without even moving. I trembled around him, a rush of heat coursing through my veins.
Don’t enjoy this. What the hell is wrong with you? He just admitted to a gross breach of privacy with your former therapist.
He grabbed my waist and readjusted himself, tilting his hips up and hitting the sensitive spot inside me again. Another quake of pleasure rolled through my body, and I grunted.
“So fucked up.” He brushed a thumb over my cheek, chuckling. “You’ve always been just as sick as me. Ride me, Tierney.”
I did. I didn’t even bother pretending I didn’t like it anymore. I was fucking my archnemesis who loathed me, and I was enjoying every single second of it, even if he wrecked me. Because he was right. I was a mess and always would be. We’d tried to fix each other once, and look where it got us.
With each roll of my hips, he slammed deeper into me, hitting my G-spot. I controlled the pace and the movement, which meant I was now in charge, drawing pleasure from the situation whether he liked it or not. I wrapped one hand around his neck, the other tracing his abs as I moved on top of him. Hate radiated between us, potent and fierce. We were fucking, but we might as well have been fighting.
I was riding a criminal high, my inner muscles spasming around him, milking my pleasure from him. I could feel the first wave of orgasmic ecstasy washing over me.
“Hate you,” I moaned, grinding my clit against his abs as I slammed down on his cock again.
“Hate you more, baby.”
He grabbed my waist, hurled me up and brought me down to my knees in front of the Ducati. My knees hit the ground with a thump.
“Nah, you don’t get to come this time, either.” He pushed the glistening head of his cock past my lips. I slammed my teeth together in anger. Achilles let out a growl, taking his dick in his hand and slapping my cheek with it. It didn’t hurt, but it infuriated me, and to my shock, I felt my tears close to falling.
“Better open up, sweetheart. Fuck knows what other hole I’ll choose to come in if you deny me.”
