The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride
Chapter 58

MIDAS

If there is one thing he possesses and will always be able to do, it is the ability to tell when someone is being less than completely honest with him. When someone is lying.

And now as he looks down at her he knows; she may not have lied yet but she is thinking about it, weighing her options.

"Do not even bother."

"Bother doing what?"

"Lying to me."

She frowns, tracing out the embroidery patterns on the edges of the blanket that has somehow suddenly become infinitely more interesting to her than it had been a few moments ago. "What makes you think I am planning to lie or that there is even something to lie about?"

He tilts up her chin, forcing her gaze upwards. "The way you keep refusing to look directly at me."

"And that is enough to make you think I am about to lie to you? Your deep mistrust for me is astonishing dragon king."

"Do not change the subject."

Her eyes dart away, across the room and back. "I am not trying to."

"Then what were you doing in that alley?"

"I already told you my Lord. I do not know what else you wish for me to say."

He lets go of her chin but narrows his eyes at her.

"Then why do you not look directly at me when you speak?"

She is kneeling on the bed beside him, playing with the bed sheet by his side; picking at it, pinching it and rubbing the fabric between her fingers. "That...that is for a completely different reason."

He folds his arms and watches her quietly.

"Tell me then. This perfectly rational reason why your eyes are suddenly too heavy to go past any point higher than my shoulders." "Okay." She whispers the word.

So low he is not even sure he heard it.

"What did you say?"

She finally raises her head, meets his eyes. "I said okay".

And then she kisses him, cradling his face between her hands, small and warm on both sides of his cheeks.

She pulls back, just a fraction of an inch, her bottom lip still touching his and setting every nerve of his body on fire.

His eyes open just a few seconds slower than usual.

"Is this really your reason?"

A shrug, tiny and almost imperceptible.

"I never said it was rational."

He swallows, hard. "I think you are trying to distract me."

"Is it working?"

Marvelously well. "No."

She smirks, her eyes dark.

"Ah, now who's the one being less than honest here dragon king."

Then she presses her lips to his again before he can come up with a response.

He lets her set the pace even though his fingers are itching with the need to take control, to satisfy his hunger.

She kisses him softly, his bottom lip, then his top lip.

Slow and tentative at first then firmer, becoming more sure of herself the minute he wraps one arm around her and pulls their bodies flush against each other.

She tastes likes the ripe purple grapes sitting on the stool beside them, sweet and intoxicating and it is becoming increasingly hard for Midas to remember that he is not supposed to be doing this. Her fingers play with hairs at the nape of his neck, moving up to tangle in his curls, ruining his bun.

He is supposed to be staying away from her, not sitting in her bed and giving the bond an opportunity to grow stronger.

Not wishing to all the dragon gods and a few others besides that he could make love to her.

"Hera..." He sighs against her mouth ready to lift her away from him.

But then she buries her face in his neck and kisses him there, just under the angle of his jaw and his gentle sigh of resistance becomes a growling moan.

By Hades what is she doing to him?

Midas knows that if he wants to have any real chance at leaving he has to do so now.

Before he completely loses whatever little grasp he still has on his control.

Yet when she tugs on the end of his shirt, trying to pull it out from where it is tucked into his trousers, he helps her.

He leans back on his arms, inhaling sharply when her hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt to run across his hot, weathered skin.

She is shy at first but one look at him, at the effect her touch is having on him and her explorations become much firmer.

Tracing the hard grooves of his stomach, sliding up the bulging muscles of his chest, over his n*****s.

She is exploring him, her fingers eagerly drinking in every inch of him and leaving behind a trail of burning sensations everywhere they touch until Midas begins to feel himself becoming undone beneath her.

But it is not until her hands begin to slide lower, moving past the tiny line of hair that disappears below the band of his pants, that Midas finally realizes that the heaven could fall down right not if they so wished, but Hades take his soul, he would not be leaving the

room.

He wants her too much, needs her too badly to pull away.

To Midas' credit and because he does not really wish for Hades to take his soul just yet, he does try to stop her.

Admittedly he does not try not very hard but he does wraps his hand firmly around her tiny wrist, stilling her hand before it can go any deeper.

"Hera..." His voice is rough, strained, breathless.

"... Hera if you do that I will not be able to stop myself."

But rather than move away she kisses him harder, deeper, her teeth running against his lip. "Who says I want you to?"

The words tear away at whatever shred of resistance he has left.

He kisses her back, brushing the tip of his tongue against her bottom lip in silent request and she gives in, opening up her mouth and moaning softly when his tongue touches hers.

His grip on her hands go slack as the kiss deepens and she takes advantage of it.

Her fingers slip beneath the bands of his pants and when they wrap around the throbbing evidence of his arousal, she gasps as if surprised at the hardness, the size of him in her hand. Midas groans, his head falling back and his eye rolling up to disappear into his head.

By the gods...it has never felt like this before.

She watches him intently.

Swollen lips parted, eyes turning dark with lust and the sudden powerful realization that she is able to do this to him.

Able to reduce the powerful king into a swollen, hard length of uncontrollable need.

He adjusts himself, giving her access and allowing her to take him out of the tight confines of his trousers.

He loves the way she looks at it, at him.

The tip of her pink tongue flicking out to wet her lips, eyes open wide with a curiosity and innocence that, gods forgive him, he is just aching to completely corrupt.

She wraps both her hands around it, like one isn't enough and just the sight of his swollen c**k in her small hands is enough to drive away any whatever tiny amount of rational logic he has left. "Goddamit Hera..." he whispers, begs, his voice an angry growl of impatience.

With her eyes locked on his, she slides her hand slowly down the entire length of him and Midas shudders and shivers, his entire body tensing up.

His chest heaves with heavy, ragged bursts.

Forget control, he can barely concentrate enough to remember how to breathe.

She does it again, but her movements are unsure, gentle, like teasing motions that only serve to feed his need but not satisfy it. "Not enough..."

She bites her lips, gazes at him. "Show me."

So he does.

Wrapping his large hand around hers, and showing her exactly how to please him, how to lead him to the very brink of his sanity.

She learns quickly, moving faster and faster even after his hand drops away.

Midas head falls weightless into the crook of her shoulder, inhaling her scent, kissing her there.

He is dangerously close to coming and if she does not stop...does not slow down he is going to...gods above.

"Enough" he growls.

She squeals when he lifts her up suddenly and turns her around.

Placing her in his lap, so that she is straddling him backwards with her back pressed to his front, her knees bent on either side of him.

His hands slide greedily up her thighs, bunching up her dress and pushing it up and out of the way so that he can pull down the tiny garment underneath and bare her to him, to his touch.

His left hand cups the soft mound of her b****t, squeezing gently, then harder, rolling the erect n****e between his thumb and forefinger.

She gasps, her body tensing up when the fingers of his right hand slide under her and between the swollen wetness of her folds to stroke her c**t.

One hand stroking and circling the little sensitive button, the other rolling her n*****s until they hardened and swelled and she completely dissolves.

She moans, twisting against him, reaching out behind her to grab his hair, press him closer.

"Midas...please...I want..."

He kisses her neck, whispers in her ear. "I know."

He lifts her up slightly, one hand clutching her hips, the other positioning his tip at her entrance.

Then he lowers her down, penetrating her, feeling the velvety smoothness of her walls clench and tighten around his c**k.

She feels like heaven; soft and hot and so impossibly wet that he almost comes with just that one single motion.

She cries out in ecstasy as the shock of the sensation hits and he groans, has to take a moment to catch his breath.

She fits around him like a glove, her body completely swallowing the entire length of his hardness like she was made especially for him.

Then he places his hand in the middle of her back, gently arching and her bending her over, so that she has to place one hand on the edge of the bed and the other on the bedside stool to steady herself.

Then when she is comfortable, his hand tighten around the curve of her hips and he begins sliding her along his length, grinding his hips to might her halfway and burying his c**k inside her with slow, languid thrusts, Deliberate and teasing, drawing out the pleasure and the torture.

She tries to move faster but his grip is firm, making her unable to do anything but submit to his control.

"Midas..."

He lifts her up and slides her back down again, enjoying the way she moans and groans in frustration. "Midas..."

"Tell me..."

"Harder...faster...please..."

The way she says it, the neediness in her sultry voice...

By Hades how could he ever deny her anything?

So he gives her everything she wants, pounding into her until she screams his name, begging for release.

His arms wrap around her, pulling her closer so her head rests against his shoulder even as he relentless drives her over the edge.

She is close, he can feel it.

He kisses her neck again, whispering into her ear. "Come for me Hera..." One deep, hard thrust after another. "...come for me my little human slave."

And so she does, crying out his name.

Her walls clench and spasm against him and he groans, his head falling to bury into the hollow of her shoulder as her tightness drags him over the edge along with her, his seed spilling into her in warm, long ropes. He is falling, drowning in billowing ripples of pleasure beyond anything he has ever felt before her.

She straightens and he slides out of her with a quiet pop.

She turns around and moves to get up but he pulls her back to him.

And for a long time afterwards, even after he hears her breathing even out to become the gentle sighs of one who is deeply asleep, he sits there. Holding her his arms, her head cradled against his shoulder and wondering how in all the f*****g realms he is supposed to be able to let her go now.