He was holding back.
“Me? Odysseus, me?” She said, shifting, raising up on her knees to meet his gaze. She was just out of his reach. The muscle in his jaw twitched, his tongue flicked over his bottom lip.
“I secure this door every night before I take my place at your side,” He said through gritted teeth. Penelope’s eyes sparkled with mischief, reflecting a look she had seen so often on her husband’s face. “Just as I lay that dagger by the door.” His hands clenched tighter around the bed. “Toprotectyou.”
“My king,” she gasped, looking away from him, biting her bottom lip. “You are so good to me.” She bit back a smirk as she heard his heavy exhale. She settled back on her haunches, carefully,accidentally, loosening the ties that kept her sleep dressing in place.
Another buzz of desire shocked through her body as she watched the defined muscles in her husband’s arm go taut. “Did you kill your father?” He all but snarled at her, but it wasn’t rage that seeped into his words.
Penelope felt a flush of heat travel through her body, settling in her core. “Be a good king and come here, husband.”She crooked her finger again. “Then maybe I’ll answer your question.”
“You will do as I ask,” He said through clenched teeth, eyes hazy as he looked at her.
“No, husband, I don’t think I will.” Penelope's lips ticked up into a tight smile as she moved her legs from underneath her, settling herself back against the headboard.
“Penelope…” His words carried warning. She gasped when she saw the olive branch underneath his hand give way, only slightly.
“There are better ways to break a bed, husband.” She drawled, beckoning to him a third time.
“You can’t kill people in our home, Penelope.” He no longer sounded like a man in control. His voice had shifted into something hungry, something primal.
“You did. Quite a few of them, if I remember correctly.” She dragged a finger down the collar of her opening dress, exposing more of herself to him.
Odysseus didn’t answer, not immediately. She watched, enraptured, as his chest heaved, composure slipping. He closed his eyes. “They touched something that belonged to me.”
“And what was that?” She fired back, shrugging the fabric off of her shoulders, letting it pool in the creases of her elbows.
He was over the bed frame, and over her, in a matter of breaths. His lips crashed down on hers, and she was instantly begging for more. She tugged on his bottom lip with her teeth, causing him to curse, pulling back. “You.” He said, before devouring her again.
His hands were everywhere, on her hips, her thigh, her breast. There was not a single place on her body that wasn’t completely entrenched with him. He moaned against her kiss, and Penelope pulled back, pushing him off of her.
“Don’t you dare,” her husband growled, reaching for her again. She followed, notching her legs around his hips, settling into his lap.
“I killed him.” She whispered against his lips, hands tugging at his hair. She pulled his head back, forcing him to meet her eyes. “He threatened something that belonged to me.”
“Did he know?” He was desperate, grabbing on to any part of her he could get his hands on. Clinging to her as his mouth found her throat.
“No,” she breathed, eyes rolling back in her head as he nipped at her skin. “No, he never saw it coming.”
His arms wrapped around her, clutching her close to him. He groaned against her throat, hips jerking. “You wicked, feral woman.”
Penelope’s hands left his hair, grabbing his chin roughly. “The world will think twice before they try to come between my husband and I.” she said, crashing into him. The kiss was sloppy, frantic.
With one arm, he lifted her, adjusting himself quickly before lowering her back into his lap. She lolled her head back, crying out as shefinallyfelt the relief that she needed.
The crack in the pressure that had been building up since she had opened her eyes this morning.
“You, wife,” his words were pointed, short, as he moved with her. “Are the very center of my being.” He grabbed the back of her neck, bringing her gaze to his. “Look at me,” he demanded, his other hand digging into the skin at her hip.
“Look at me when I unravel you.”
“No.”
“It wasn’t a question.”
Her world shattered with fire and brimstone, her entire being coming undone by the touch of the man who she was tangled up with. Her breathing hitched, heart stopped, as she clung to heranchor, to the man she had built her life upon. He kept his hand firmly on her neck, forcing her to watch as he crested. He cried out her name, grabbing at her hip so hard… She prayed it would leave bruises. She prayed he had marked her.
“Odysseus,” she muttered, all but collapsing against his chest. The only thing keeping her afloat were his arms around her. His lips in her hair.
