Chapter 612: The Price of ’Anything’
Chapter 612: The Price of ’Anything’
She came with a wail that probably woke half the building. Her whole body convulsed as the orgasm crashed through her. I didn’t stop. Kept licking. Kept stroking. Pushed her through the first peak and immediately started building toward the second.
"Wait... I need... oh god, I can’t—holy shit!"
The second orgasm crashed into her before she’d even begun to come down from the first. It was like watching a lightning strike hit the same place twice—her entire body went rigid for one frozen heartbeat before she arched off the mattress entirely, completely overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensation. She thrashed against the sheets, hands fisting in the fabric as if trying to anchor herself to reality, but there was no escape from the waves of pleasure crashing through her nervous system. Her voice broke on a wordless cry. Tears spilled from her eyes, tracking down her temples. Every muscle in her body locked up simultaneously, and for a terrifying moment she stopped breathing entirely, suspended in that razor’s edge between too much and not enough.
Then, all at once, the tension broke. She collapsed back onto the bed like a puppet with its strings cut—boneless, trembling, gasping for air. She stared up at the ceiling with the wide-eyed, shell-shocked expression of someone who’d just brushed against something divine and found the experience almost too much to bear.
"What," she finally managed between ragged breaths, her voice hoarse and wondering, "the fuck."
"You okay?"
"I’m dead." Her hand fumbled blindly across the sheets until she found mine, lacing our fingers together. "You actually killed me. This is the afterlife. Has to be."
"Seems nice."
"Shut up." Despite the words, there was no heat behind them—only exhaustion and satisfaction. She tugged weakly on my hand, pulling me up the length of her body until we were face to face, our noses almost touching. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"
"Practice."
"With who?"
"Jealous?"
"Obviously." She kissed me, slow and thorough, tasting herself on my lips. When she pulled back, her expression was somewhere between dazed and accusatory. "But mostly grateful. Jesus Christ. I’ve never... nobody’s ever made me feel like..."
"I know."
"How did you know?" Her voice was small now. Vulnerable.
"Because you told me." I reached up and brushed a strand of sweat-dampened hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear with a gentleness that seemed to surprise her. "You told me nobody’s ever touched you like you mattered. Like you were something precious instead of just convenient. So I decided to show you different."
I let my thumb trace along her jawline, feeling the racing pulse beneath the skin. "You matter, Reyna. Every single part of you. Including all the parts most people ignore because they’re too busy taking what they want to notice what you actually need."
Her eyes went glassy again. But this time it wasn’t from physical pleasure—this was something deeper. More dangerous. The kind of vulnerability that could reshape a person if they weren’t careful.
"You’re dangerous," she whispered.
"I keep hearing that."
"No. I mean it." She pulled me down for another kiss. "You make me want things I’ve never wanted before. Feel things I didn’t know I could feel. That’s dangerous."
"Dangerous how?"
"Because I’d do anything to keep feeling this way." Her legs wrapped around my waist. "Anything."
I felt myself align with her entrance. She was still slick from the orgasms. Still trembling with aftershocks. Her eyes locked with mine as I pushed forward slowly, giving her time to adjust.
"Oh..."
She took all of me. Inch by inch until our hips met and there was nowhere else to go. Her inner walls gripped me like she was trying to memorize the shape. Her breath came in short gasps.
"Move," she demanded.
I moved.
Started slow. Long strokes that made her feel every inch. She grabbed my shoulders and held on as I built the rhythm. Her heels dug into my back, urging me faster. I obliged.
"Harder."
Harder.
"More."
More.
The bed creaked beneath us. The headboard slammed against the wall in a rhythm that left no doubt what was happening to anyone within earshot. Her voice rose with each thrust. Spanish and English tangled together in a constant stream of profanity and praise.
The pendant burned against my chest.
Natalia was watching. Feeling. Three hundred miles away, experiencing every moment of her boyfriend fucking another woman through their supernatural bond. The thought should have made me stop. Should have triggered some kind of guilt or shame.
Instead it added another layer to everything. Like performing for an audience I couldn’t see. Like proving something to the woman who already owned my heart.
"I’m close," Reyna gasped. "Don’t stop."
I didn’t stop.
Her third orgasm hit like a freight train. She clamped down on me so hard I saw stars. Her nails drew blood from my shoulders. Her scream echoed off the walls as she shattered completely.
The feeling pushed me over the edge. I buried myself deep and let go, emptying inside her while the Nectar created a feedback loop of shared pleasure that left us both trembling.
Silence.
Heavy breathing.
The distant sounds of the city below.
"Holy shit," Reyna said eventually.
"Yeah."
"We’re doing that again. Multiple times. Tonight."
"I figured."
She laughed. The sound was loose and happy and completely different from her public persona. "You’re going to ruin me for other men."
"That’s the idea."
"Possessive bastard." She kissed my shoulder. "I like it."
The pendant pulsed.
Cold. But not hostile.
If I didn’t know better, I’d say Natalia was taking notes.
We lay tangled together as our heartbeats slowed. Her head rested on my chest, right next to the pendant that connected me to another woman. She traced patterns on my skin with her fingertip. Neither of us spoke.
There was nothing to say.
Tomorrow we’d start digging into the VHC’s secrets. Thursday I’d walk into a meeting that might end with my freedom or my imprisonment. The next two weeks would determine whether everything I’d built survived or collapsed.
But tonight, I had this. A beautiful woman in my arms. A connection that transcended the games and performances that defined my life. Something real in a world of masks and manipulation.
My phone buzzed.
Reyna groaned. "Ignore it."
"Can’t." I reached for the nightstand without dislodging her. "Might be important."
The message was from an unknown number.
I know what you are. I know what your father did. And I know what the VHC is planning.
Meet me tomorrow. Alone. The old research facility in the industrial district. Midnight.
Come if you want answers. Come if you want to survive.
Come if you want to know why they really made you.
The message ended with a single word that stopped my heart.
Prometheus.