Learn My Lesson (Wicked Villains, #2)

by Katee Robert

Once upon a time, a woman fell in love with a man. He wasn’t a good man. Men never are, I’ve found. But this woman hadn’t learned that hard lesson yet. She still had stars in her eyes and the kind of innocent love in her heart that the world delights in setting aflame.

The woman lost her innocence in the flames of his betrayal. She rose from the ashes, a goddess in her own right, second only to her new master.

I loved the wrong man and made a deal with the devil to save him. That kind of man doesn’t cleave to innocence lost, no matter what lies he spilled to bargain me away, and he left me as soon as the price was paid. It’s just as well. The devil suits me better anyway.

Now our love is more cruel edges and the kind of cut that one doesn’t even notice until hours later.

The trust we built so painstakingly between us is weathered and beaten. I can’t be sure that he’ll meet me halfway, and because I can’t be sure, I am incapable of taking that first step to reach out.

Hades might break my heart over and over again in a thousand different ways, but he would never put me in a position where I could truly be harmed. He may be careless with my heart, but he would never make the same mistake with my body.

“Ma’am, is there something I can help you with? You’re in the employee break room.” “Ma’am?” She looks a little horrified. “I cannot believe you just ma’am-ed me.”

“I’m sorry?” “You should be. Very sorry.” Her tone drops, and she takes a step into the room. She’s nearly my height in her heels, but significantly smaller than I am. It doesn’t seem to matter, because she takes up all the space in the room simply by breathing. Her smile widens. “Would you like to make it up to me?” Surely I’m reading this wrong? No way did this woman come back here to find me. I glance around the room. The understated luxury in the main floor of the restaurant doesn’t extend to the employee break room. There’s a secondhand couch that’s probably older than me up against one wall and a folding table with a stained microwave perched precariously on top of it. A few months ago, I wouldn’t have fit into this place, but I don’t have a choice now. This woman? She definitely doesn’t fit in. “It’s against the rules.” I mean for the sentence to come out strong, but I sound more like I’m requesting confirmation. “Rules were made to be broken, don’t you think?” She lifts a dark eyebrow. “What do you say? One drink and you can send me on my way.”

I’ve always had shit taste in who I was attracted to. This couple seems like they’re no different. What kind of man leaves his woman behind after a dinner date? I should offer to call her a car. That is the reasonable thing to do. Not offer to take her to my place around the corner.

What the hell is wrong with me? This lady needs help, not some horny idiot who has half a dozen truly impolite thoughts running through his head. I want to kiss her. I want to push up that dress and see exactly what she has on underneath it. I want to trace that tattoo with my tongue, to taste her. Hell, I want to fuck her. What the fuck is wrong with me? She needs help and I’m panting after her like some piece of shit guy who only sees tits and an ass instead of a person. I’m acting like my father.

“I’ll give you a dollar if you tell me what you were just thinking about.” No way in hell am I subjecting her to that. “That’s not a good idea.” If this was a different situation, if she wasn’t stranded, I might be willing to believe all signs pointing to her hitting on me. But it isn’t a different situation, and I can’t afford to assume shit. “Try me.” Meg smiles and traces her nail across the inside of my wrist. It feels like my whole body narrows down to that single touch. “I might surprise you, Hercules.” I clear my throat, trying to focus past the way her touch zings through my body. I feel drunk on her, even though I haven’t had a drink since I left Olympus. Maybe that’s why I tell her the truth. “You’re beautiful.” I look down at where her paler hand brackets my wrist. “That’s what I was thinking. That you’re beautiful.” Not the full truth, but then I just met this woman. I would have to be out of my fucking mind to tell her that I can’t stop wondering what her pussy tastes like. There are lines. There have to be. “Oh, Hercules.” She sighs a little like I’ve said something that pleases her greatly. “You really are too pure for this world, aren’t you?” If she only knew how quickly my thoughts had gone dark and filthy. “No. Not really.”

I have the strangest suspicion that she could make me come without ever touching my cock. The idea excites me. Fuck. Everything about her excites me.

“I didn’t call a car.” She keeps up that movement against my wrist. Back and forth. Back and forth. “I was hoping to seduce you.” My thoughts stumble over themselves as I try to make sense of what she just said. “You want to seduce me?” “Is that so surprising? I mean, look at you. You’re practically a walking wet dream.” She casts a meaningful glance to where I’ve tried and failed to hide my erection. “I saw you, and I wanted you.” Now is the time to stop this. Even if what she’s saying is true, she came to dinner with another man. A man who touched her with familiarity and stirred things inside me even more uncomfortable than what I’m feeling right now. If she’s using me to get back at him… Does it matter? It shouldn’t. I don’t know him. I doubt I’ll see her again after she’s through with me. I should just take the offer she’s making and enjoy myself for once without overthinking things. Too bad I can’t.

“I don’t use women. Or men, for that matter.” “Even when they’re asking to be used?” She looks away and then back, her gaze sharpening. “Even when I’m telling you I want to be used.” I should stand up. Should walk out that door and down the stairs. But that vulnerability calls to me in a way that has me closing the distance between us. “I’m lonely too.” “I didn’t—” I kiss her. I don’t mean to, but then I never mean to get myself into trouble. Whatever her story, whatever put that look in her eyes, if I can take it away for a little bit and leave her better off than before, aren’t I obligated to at least try? She tastes like wine and something spicy, and her mouth goes soft beneath mine almost immediately. And then her tongue is there in a brief stroke against mine, a query I answer in kind. Kissing her feels as natural as breathing. As natural as breathing? Ha. More like as natural and dangerous as a free fall.

“Tell me what you want.” “I…” He’s going to hold back. I can already tell. I grab his wrist and press his hand to my thigh, right over my tattoo. “Not the polite version. Not what you think I want to hear. Tell me what you want right now, in this moment, more than anything else.” Hercules’s gaze drops to my mouth and then lower to where his hand brackets my thigh. “I want to taste your pussy.” My whole body goes hot and tight. He says he’s not pure, but there’s something almost innocent in the way he allows me to lead this. Submissive, yes, but more than that. I want to dirty him right up. I guide his hand beneath my dress and catch my breath as he palms me between my thighs. He makes a sound suspiciously like a growl. “No panties, Meg?” “I don’t like them.” “Fuck, neither do I.” He doesn’t try anything, letting me lead this. Submitting. All the tangled feelings from dinner with Hades burn to ash in this moment. Damn him, but he’s right. This is exactly what I need tonight. I lean back against the arm of the couch. “Take what you want.” He looks at me for a long moment as if he’s sure this is a trap. I roll my hips a little, rubbing myself against his palm. It snaps him out of it. He moves down my body so he can shove my dress up to see my pussy. The look on his face. I would pay an absurd amount of money to have a picture of this moment, to keep it locked away and bring out whenever I needed a bump. He looks at my pussy like he’s just found a treasure he’s spent his life ...

“Wait, wait, wait.” He immediately lifts his head, though he doesn’t remove his fingers, the dirty boy. “Did I hurt you?” “No, nothing like that.” I prop myself up on my elbows and try to think through the pleasure of that pulsing thing he’s doing with his fingers against my G-spot. “I need…” God, that feels good. It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him make me come like this. But I know how to read a man, and this one will make me orgasm hard enough to see stars, then he’ll fix my dress, call me a car, and send me home. He’s got that kind of selfless martyrdom written all over him. Not tonight. I push on his shoulders until he sits back and then crawl into his lap and claim his mouth in another kiss. I can taste myself on his tongue and hell if that doesn’t make me hotter. I’ve always loved this shit. “Meg, you don’t have to take care of me.” His hand is between my thighs again, parting my pussy and delving deep. “I want to make you come.” “You will.” I’m doing a bit of delving on my own. Normally, I pride myself on my seduction techniques. I can have a person on the verge of orgasm just by undressing them when I’m feeling inspired. I love to hold off and tease until pleasure becomes pain becomes pleasure again. I have none of that finesse tonight. I need him inside me and I need it now. My hands actually shake as I yank open his pants and reach inside for his cock. And, oh god, he’s even bigger than I anticipated. “I need you.” He catches my wrist, a frown ...

Ten years of playing with Carver City’s sexual elite, and I’m fumbling over myself like a teenager. I dig through the decorative cabinet next to the couch and find a condom. He raises his brows at that but doesn’t comment as I rip the packet open and roll it onto his cock. “Hurry, hurry, hurry.” “We don’t have to rush.” “Speak for yourself.”

“I’ll go slow.” “I don’t want you to.” I slam down on him and, holy shit, maybe I should have given myself a little bit to adjust to his size. I rock and writhe, but he bands an arm around my waist and seals us together completely. “Meg.” He sounds just as desperate as I feel.

“I want you to fuck me.” My command comes out a little breathy, but I can’t help it. Not with him filling me so perfectly. “I am fucking you.” I roll my hips, managing a tiny bit of delicious friction. Not enough. Not for what I need, not for what I suspect we both need. I take his chin and hold his gaze. “Fuck me, Hercules. Hard. I promise I won’t break.” The words are barely out of my mouth when he pulls me off his cock and all but tosses me down onto the couch on my stomach. Then he’s between my thighs again, urging my ass up and guiding his cock back into me. I start to rise up, but his hand on the flat of my back stops me. Dirty boy. He grips my hips and gives a few experimental thrusts, testing me. If only he knew. I shove back against each one, until he’s so deep, I’m half sure I can feel his cock in the back of my throat. “Yes.” That’s when I realize he’s been holding back. Because when he starts to move, there’s no mercy for me. It’s fine. I don’t want it. If I wanted something soft and sweet… but then, I never do.

Something in him relaxes at that and he pulls me closer, though it almost feels like I’m a teddy bear that he’s using for comfort, rather than the woman he just fucked hard and dirty. I don’t mind. Aftercare is part of the process, even if it was an almost-vanilla scene. I let him cuddle me and allow myself to enjoy this moment for what it is.

I do so love it when a plan comes together. The joy is downright orgasmic as I watch this boy scramble to cover Meg and himself at the same time. As if I haven’t seen her in every stage of undress, in every moment of unbecoming. As if she isn’t mine the same way my right hand is mine, an extension of myself.

“What the hell, Hades?” “You’re welcome for what appears to be a most satisfying gift.” Her glare can’t completely diminish the way she practically glows after her time with him. “What was that little song and dance about? You acted like you own me. You rubbed it in his face.” I’m not ready to discuss my plans. “I do own you.” “Hades, you’re such an asshole sometimes.” I grab the back of her neck and tow her over my lap. “I give you leeway, Meg. I indulge you.” “Damn it, let me go!” I shove up her dress and deliver two hard smacks to her ass. “Tell me your safe word.” When she doesn’t immediately respond, I shove two fingers deep into her pussy. She’s still drenched from her orgasms and Hercules’s mouth. If I spread her wide, will I taste him there? My cock hardens even further at the thought. I have to close my eyes and fight for control. Soon. Very soon. “Tell me.” “Cerberus,” she mutters. “That’s right. Cerberus.” I press hard on her inner wall, just like she loves, and she writhes for me. “The safe word you neglected to use once during our little game. You wanted to fuck the golden boy, and you wanted me to watch, and when I told you to come, you orgasmed all the harder for how dirty it made you feel. I know you, Meg. I know your body and your soul. You may play the martyr for the public, but you don’t get to play it with me.” “I hate you,” she sobs even as she spreads her thighs wider to give me better access. It’s always like this with us. Always a fight to the finis...

“Tell me ‘thank you’ for the spectacular gift I gave you tonight.” She pants and writhes, but she’s not really fighting to get free. She’s struggling solely so I’ll hold her down and bend her to my will. I spank her again with my free hand. Once. Twice. A third time. “Now, Meg.” “Thank you, Sir.” The words come out as if a curse. “Good girl.” I topple her onto the back seat and move to kneel on the floorboards. “You performed marvelously. Would you like your reward?” She bites her bottom lip like she wants to tell me to fuck off again out of sheer perversity, but desire overcomes all else. At the end of the night, I’ve given her exactly what she needs and she knows it. Meg pulls her dress up higher. “Yes, Sir. I would love my reward now.” “That’s what I thought.” I smooth a hand down her stomach and part her pussy with my fingers. She’s pink and swollen from what she’s done. I pin her in place and drag the flat of my tongue over her. Meg lets loose a whimper and reaches behind her to grab the headrest.

I can’t say for certain if it’s jealousy of Hercules that spurns me on. Or desire for him.