Phoenix (dystopian romance) (Theta Waves: Episode 1) by Thea Atkinson Read Free Book Online

It isn't nearly enough to make her forget she should have belonged to him in the first place, not the other. She wants him to fuck the memory of her betrothal away. She wants to feel him spasm inside her, wrapped so tightly around his cock that she can feel each final surge, her sex greedy as her mouth to devour him.
    Still, his release is a disappointment. It's too soon. She is nowhere near ready to forgive herself, even if she is coming, even if the world is spilling onto her sheets like the sun has exploded. She wants to cry because it's over, but she falls onto her belly exhausted, his seed already warm on her thigh, growing colder. He collapses beside her, panting but grinning at her from her side.
    "It'll be longer next time," he says. His finger trails along her cheek.
    She starts to grin at him, pleased to hear there will be a next time, but a voice at the door stops her cold.
    "I doubt it," the voice says.
    Cold washes over her as though it's been thrown at her; she knows the voice. It's his voice. She could grab for the sheets, pull her gown down, but instead she squeezes her eyes shut instinctively. Paralysed by the reality of discovery.
    "Erich," she hears herself say. Her eyes won't open no matter how hard she tries. She can feel Markus beside her, moving about and guesses he's pulling up his breeches, trying to find some dignified way to face his best friend. She might not be able to see, but she can feel the tension charging hairs on her body, the sense that at any moment things will spiral out of control. She hears boots scuffling across the wooden floor. Still, she won't open her eyes.
    "Look at me, Cathrin." It's an order from a familiar voice. She chews on her lip, ashamed of herself for giving in, of wanting Markus so badly.
    "I said look at me," Erich's finger touches her beneath the chin. There is a shift in the sound of his voice. She swallows hard; her eyes flutter open. Even as she discovers that her fingers are clenching the sheets, she realizes that the face in front of her is not contorted in anger. She licks her lips. Waiting.
    "You should be punished, Cathrin," he whispers. His thumb moves from chin to earlobe. Snakes around the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. There's the fleeting thought that she should wonder where Markus is, but she so absorbed in her fear and shame, that she doesn't dare resist. Erich's mouth descends on hers, forcing her lips open. He suctions her tongue, pulling it into his mouth just to the point of pain, then releases it. He nibbles at her top lip, bites down.
    "You will be punished." His lips move from hers but his gaze bores into her, commanding her without speech to stay perfectly still.
    "I can't blame you for wanting my wife, Markus," he says. "She's very beautiful; Lucifer in disguise, I think."
    It's a strange description, and she tries to study his face, but can't make out the emotion beneath the careful mask. His hands descend to her bodice and tear at the material. He doesn't stop until it's fully rent, her belly straining for the air. Only then does his mouth descend again, this time to her navel, where he nibbles at the skin and sends trails of shivers down her legs. It's then that she knows this will be her punishment, to be taken in front of the man beside her, to be used forcefully, with no thought to love or tenderness. Her husband thinks it will shame them both, but he's wrong.
    The thought of Markus still standing next to the bed, watching, sends a thrill up her spine. She's dreamed of such a session; she's wild, she knows, but it doesn't matter in this moment. She revels in it. The nights she's succumbed to her husband's expert touch, all the while dreaming of having two men trailing kisses along her skin, of filling her, all those times she'd known she was wanton, but she'd fired to it just the same. Before Erich, she'd foolishly believed it was a woman's chore to please her husband, and when she'd realized he knew how to turn the chore