Page 143 of Zeus

"We can wait," I repeat, needing this experience to be the best it can be for both of us. As badly as I want it, I don't want to look back on this and remember the pain he was in. If it takes weeks of healing for us to have that, then I'd be more than happy to wait.

"Do you want to?" he asks, his body tensing as if he's going to take a step back.

"No," I tell him. "But I only want to go forward if you're sure you'll be alright."

"I know you realized at the same time I did that a little pain is a turn on for me."

"But like kinky pain," I argue. "Not pain from a beating you took a couple of days ago."

"True," he says, his fingers working their way under my t-shirt. "So just be gentle."

"That feels good," I moan as his hands work over my torso, fingers tracing my muscles.

I lift my arms over my head, letting him tug my shirt off.

His hands immediately go back to my skin, my muscles bunching under his attention.

My cock thickens in my jeans, and I absently wonder if there will ever come a time in our relationship when my body doesn't respond so quickly to such a simple touch. I doubt it ever will. My skin is on fire for this man, an urgency I know I'll have to keep under control until his injuries are fully healed.

His eyes stay on mine as he works my belt open, his hand slipping behind the denim of my jeans before he even pulls the zipper down.

I groan with pleasure as his fingers wrap around my cock.

"That's fucking perfect." His words are a purr, slipping past lips I wish were planted on mine.

We press our foreheads together, looking down at his working hand.

The tip of my cock glistens with need, the sound of him licking his lips a cue to my body that this is going to be the beginning of a lifetime of pleasure.

The rasp of my zipper fills the room, my cock aching with even more need than relief as it's given more freedom.

"No," I tell him when he moves as if he's going to sink to his knees and take me in his mouth.

"Frankie," he growls, giving my cock a tight squeeze. "If you say one more thing about my injuries or not wanting to hurt me, I'm going to-"

"I'll come the second you put your mouth on me," I interrupt. "I won't be able to help it."

His eyes search mine as if he's trying to tell if I'm lying or not.

"I swear. I'm already so wound up. Aw, fuck," I groan, my head tilting back, eyes fluttering closed as his hand works down the length of me. "That's going to get me there too quickly, as well."

Then my cock is just hanging there, all attention gone.

"What?" I say, rolling my head forward and looking at him.

"That's not how this ends," he says, taking a step back and lifting his arms over his head.

I read him clearly. We know what we both want, and it isn't blow jobs or hand jobs.

I keep my eyes on him because I know what I'll see if I look down. The bruises marking his skin would take me right out of this moment, the anger would be enough for me to want to get a plane ticket tonight just to burn the fucking compound to the ground.

If the men in that room with him didn't have guns and engage with us when we entered, I don't know if I wouldn't have had to have the same conversation with Kincaid that Nyx had. One look at this man in that chair, blood oozing from several cuts, eyes swollen, and bruises over every visible inch, I knew they wouldn't walk out of there.

"Stop," he says, pulling me from that horrific moment. "Don't get lost in that shit right now."

I pull in a deep breath and let my hands work to get his shirt off. I don't pay his body the same attention he paid to mine, partly out of regret and sympathy, and partly because I want him so badly. A rush of urgency builds inside me.

As if he knows I need something I can't seem to voice, he steps in closer, his lips pressing to mine.