close my mouth.
Every step she takes into the room echoes with the sharp snap of her heels on the floor. By the time she arrives at the desk, her expression is... appraising. And she only has eyes for Zeus. I might as well be furniture. Her gaze flicks down to the front of Zeus’s pants. I have the sickest, strangest urged to block him from view—but why? He doesn’t care. He just doesn’t care that she’s looking, and what she’s looking at…
I put one hand on the desk and do my best to look like I’m not going to fall over.
“Looks like it hurts,” the woman coos. “I could take care of that, if you’d like.” She edges close to me, so close I can feel the heat of her skin. Her hair blocks my view of him. That’s not right. I should always keep him in sight; that’s the only way to stay safe. No, no.
There is no way to stay safe.
“No need,” Zeus says, standing up. “I was about to teach Brigit here how to give a blowjob.”
My heart stops. I thought it was done beating before, but now I’m sure. There’s a wrenching pain as it starts up again. I try and fail to get enough air to argue this point—haven’t I done enough for the day?—but Zeus’s huge palms are on my shoulders, pushing me down onto the perfect floor. None of it is worn down from the footsteps of maids. I’m trapped by the desk, and by his legs, and by his hand in my hair, tipping my head back.
A dangerous smile paints his face. A kinder man would ask if I was ready. Zeus is not kind. He has never been kind, never, never. All of his meanness bought him this, somehow—this beautiful room, the desk so heavy it looks like it grew out of the floor, so shiny. So polished. It takes maids bent over and rubbing by hand to get it like this.
With his other hand, he unzips his pants, and I fling my soul out of my body, trying to get out of my own mind. I imagined this happening in the dark. Some dark corner, some rushed man. This is broad daylight. The other woman—she can see. And there’s nowhere to run.
“She looks scared,” comments the woman.
“I’m not,” I lie.
“Shut your mouth, Savannah. I’ll use it when I’m ready.”
Savannah. She hates me, but at least she listens to him in this moment. This is worse than waiting in the alley and worse than stripping down to my underwear and worse than what happened on that desk.
Zeus is enormous.
All of him.
I don’t know why I thought his dick would be any different, any less intimidating than this man who takes up all the available space in the room no matter where he’s standing. The power of him dwarfs how tall he is, and how muscled, and all of it is centered in my hair right now. Pulling me close.
“Suck,” he commands.
Horror creeps up the back of my neck, and I discover I’m gritting my teeth. That’s not what it means to suck, so I will myself to open my mouth. Zeus isn’t patient enough to wait for me. He puts a thumb on my chin and pulls down, and then he’s in my mouth, salt and skin and heft. The other girl is watching. She doesn’t leave. He doesn’t make her. Oh, God.
She’s watching me.
I don’t know how to do this.
Tongue. Maybe? I try it out, tentative, because there’s so much of him that it seems impossible. A real suck. I think wildly of lollipops, of popsicles, of sweet candy. He’s not sweet, but he’s clean—wretchedly, horribly clean. It would be better if he was disgusting. I would hate myself less. There’s only the most faint taste of soap and a hint of musk.
I manage another inch or two, and he’s filling my mouth, so much of it, and all I can think is that I have to keep moving, keep my tongue working.
“There’s a good girl.” An awful wave of pride begins at the place where he’s pulling my hair and drags its fingertips down my back. My pussy clenches. I think of him licking it. How did he ever know how to do that? How did he ever imagine— “A little deeper now. Swirl your tongue, harder. Make it good for me; otherwise, what the fuck is the point?” He’s mocking, and it hurts, and I like it. “If