CHAPTER 9

SAOIRSE.

“Leave. Now. Saoirse. Because I won’t be responsible for what will happen if you won’t leave.”

The silence that followed was deafening, his warning hanging like a noose. I stood there, frozen, my body betraying me with a shiver that wasn’t just fear. His eyes held mine, daring me to stay, begging me to go. 

And so I fled and didn't bother to look back. The corridor blurring, The door sliding shut behind me. But the chamber's shadow followed, Zeus's words echoing, that touch lingering like a brand.

Back in my room, the night stretched endless, the bed a battlefield. I kept tossing and turning around, sheets tangling around my legs like the restraints I'd seen. 

“Shit…”

Sleep eluded me, my mind a whirlwind of the things I’d seen, of Zeus's gaze and the chamber's whispers. My body betrayed me, heat pooling low in my belly, a forbidden ache. 

I shouldn't imagine it — him, the toys, the surrender. But the thoughts crept in, wild and dirty, my fingers trailing down my skin as if compelled by some unseen force. 

I clenched my fists, digging nails into my palms, trying to fight the rising tide. No. I wouldn't give in. Not to this. Certainly not to him.

The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast shadows pulsing, mocking my resolve. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the images away. But Zeus's face invaded, his commanding eyes boring into me, the way he'd said my name like a claim.

I shook my head, muttering to myself, “Stop it, Saoirse. Stop thinking about it. A monster like him doesn't deserve a spot in your mind.”

Yet my hand disobeyed, slipping under the thin nightshirt I'd changed into, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. A shiver raced through me, unbidden. I yanked my hand back, cursing under my breath. 

“Shit. No. No. I won't.” I bit my lip as hard as I could but the ache only intensified, a pulsing heat that made my core clench, slick and demanding. 

I rolled onto my stomach, burying my face in the pillow, trying to smother the need. Breathe. Just breathe. Think of anything else — the cold marble stairs, the dust on those gold frames. Anything but him!

It didn't work. His voice echoed in my head. My body betraying my resolve, nipples hardening against the fabric, a wetness gathering between my legs that I couldn't ignore. I flipped onto my back again, legs scissoring restlessly, the sheets twisting tighter, binding me like those silken ropes in my mind.

“Ah…” I groaned, the word escaping before I could stop it. My hand hovered over my breast, trembling. 

Don't. Fight it. But the fantasy clawed deeper — Zeus's hands on me, rough and unyielding, pinning me against the soft mattress of that chamber. His mouth on my neck, biting, claiming. I slapped my hand away, sitting up abruptly, heart hammering. 

“No! Saoirse, snap out of it!” Tears pricked my eyes, frustration mixing with the heat. Why now? And out of all people, why him?

The room felt smaller, the air thicker, scented faintly with my own arousal. I lay back down, forcing my arms to my sides, but the ache won out. Slowly, tentatively, my fingers grazed my nipple, circling it through the fabric. A jolt shot straight to my core, making me gasp. 

I pinched harder, punishing myself for the weakness, but it only fueled the fire. “Damn you,” I whispered to the empty room, as if cursing him. 

I gave in just a fraction, my breath hitching as I explored lower, fingers dipping beneath the waistband of my panties. The heat there was unbearable, slick folds parting under my touch. I circled my clit slowly, defiantly slow, trying to deny the pleasure. 

“This…isn't for him,” I told myself, voice hoarse. “I just...needed this out of my system.” 

But Zeus's face flashed again, the way his gaze had lingered on my uniform, his scent, all of it, stripping me. I imagined his voice: “Admit it, Saoirse.”

Admit what? What would it feel like to be bound, to submit to those dark desires?

My fingers moved faster despite myself, slipping inside, curling against that sensitive spot. A moan built in my throat, stifled at first. I fought it, biting my lip until I tasted blood. 

“Ah,” I panted, withdrawing my hand. Sweat beaded on my skin, the room spinning. I even bit my blanket to muffle the sounds I’m making. I couldn't even think straight.

The need was relentless, a storm brewing. I plunged back in, two fingers now, thrusting shallowly, my thumb pressing against my clit. The pleasure coiled tighter, a serpent wrapping around me, squeezing.

Zeus's commanding eyes haunted me, black, intense, seeing right through my defiance. I swore I tried to fight it, to replace him with nothing, with emptiness. But the fantasy won, crashing over me like a wave. 

Him. Zeus. His body pressing against mine in that chamber, using those ties and rope in my body, his hands replacing my own, rough and demanding. 

“Surrender, little fox,” he'd say, his breath hot on my skin. The toys, the whip trailing over my flesh, the restraints holding me open, exposed. 

My hips bucked against my hand, chasing it, the image of him dominating me, making me beg. “Give in, Saoirse. Give in to me.”

My body arched off the bed, pleasure coiling tighter, a merciless build that I couldn't escape. I was close, so close, and I hated it — hated how he'd invaded even this, my most private moment. 

I whimpered, I couldn’t even control my fingers, as if they have a life on their own, pumping faster, the wet sounds filling the room, obscene and undeniable.

My back arched off the bed, knees quaking as waves of heat crashed through me. Eyes fluttering, almost rolling back, I surrendered to the shattering peak, a shuddering moan tearing from my lips, raw and unstoppable, echoing the ruin I fear he'd unleashed.

“Zeus…”

His name. 

The first time it had ever crossed my lips, raw and unguarded, tearing from my throat like a confession. 

The unexplainable, odd satisfaction crashed over me, waves of ecstasy ripping through my body, leaving me trembling, convulsing on the sheets. My core pulsed around my fingers, slick and spent, the echo of his name lingering in the air.

A betrayal that promised more darkness to come, more nights where he'd claim me even in my dreams.

—࿐—

Saoirse was utterly lost in the wave of sensation, the intoxicating pleasure blinding her to the figure lurking just outside her door. 

He leaned against the wall, hands tucked into his pockets, exhaling a lazy plume of smoke that drifted skyward. One fist clenched deep in his pocket — closed, impenetrable. The other dangled the cigarette carelessly, fingers relaxed, indifferent to its slow burn. 

The smoke spiraled upward in languid coils, a perfect echo of his unhurried demeanor. This was no man driven by haste; he was the epitome of patience, content to bide his time.