Chapter 87 Do we fvck other people
~Hermes~
First, she kiss me without permission. Now she's fucking disobeying me.
My fingers tighten on the book’s edge again before I lay it aside.
I should have shoved her off the moment she leaned in at my office, the moment her mouth brushed mine. My skin always crawls when someone tries to touch me there — I wipe, scrub, anything to erase it, and yet… I didn’t this time.
I have a good reason thankfully. She gave me the perfect reason when she blurted out earlier:
"I only did that to save your life."
That was why my body didn't react. It was an emergency move. Anyone would have done it and gotten the same reaction from me.
It was because of the mustard jam, and she saw it before I did, and she knew, somehow, that if it got near my mouth, it could drop me.
She licked it off without thinking, and saved me before I could even reach for the napkin.
And now here she is, standing at the foot of my bed, dress falling back into place, pouring herself a glass of wine.
She takes a sip, eyes on me, and says my name.
"Hermes."
The sound of it in her mouth is a small shock, and my cock twitch at the sound.
"That’s what you told me to call you here, right?"
"Mm," I exhale, sit up, nod once.
Then she moves closer. Her fingers trace my jawline, warm against my skin, and then find the top button of my shirt and slowly, opens it.
"I’ll let you undress me," she murmurs, "one piece at a time… when you answer my questions, and when you agree to my rules for our secret relationship."
I blink, watching her. My chest tightens, a tangle of irritation and something that tastes suspiciously like admiration. This is not how I run things, not with anyone.
She’s either testing me, or she’s staking her claim.
Part of me wants to pull her in, flip her over, take back control, the old, and easy pattern. Another part of me, the one still stunned by the memory of mustard jam and her instinct to protect me, wants to hear what she has to say.
My fingers curl into the sheets.
What am I going to do with her?
"Well, you saved me, so…" I take her small hand, slip it inside my shirt and leave it there. "I’m willing to listen and talk."
Her wild hazel eyes widen, tracing my half-opened chest. Then, just as quickly, they shutter, and she pulls her hand from mine, putting space between us.
"Okay," she breathes, as if she’s been holding it for a while.
"I’ll ask the questions from here," she adds, biting her lip as she subconsciously wipes her palms on her dress.
She’s nervous.
I lower my eyes, an amused scoff slipping past my lips.
How can her nervousness and boldness at the same time excite me?
Fuck. The girl’s something else. I really can’t scratch this itch. She isn’t even an itch anymore. She is—
"Are we going to be fucking other people?" Her small voice cuts through my thought.
I snap my gaze up, genuinely surprised by the question. I thought she was going to ask why I replaced her quickly as secretary.
I tilt my head, voice slow and even. "Why are you asking me that, June?"
She fidgets, knotting and unknotting her fingers on her lap. Her teeth catch her lower lip before she answers, words coming out tight. "In case I need to use protection when… when f-fucking you."
All I really hear is fucking and my cock twitches again, sending a low spark under my skin. I clamp down on it, forcing my face to stay neutral.
"Repeat that," I say, softer, leaning in.
Her eyes squeeze shut and she blurts it out: "In case I need to use protection when fucking you."
A small chuckle escapes me. I lean back, crossing my arms and legs, amused at the tremor in her voice. "If that’s what you want, then let's do it. Though most women prefer me raw. That’s… more pleasurable."
She scoffs under her breath at my words, rolling her eyes just enough for me to catch it. I can’t help another laugh. This girl.
I shift closer until our knees almost touch, my hand rising to cup the side of her face. Her skin is warm under my palm. "We don’t have to fuck other people, June," I murmur. "So don’t be afraid."
Her cheeks flush instantly, and she fights to hold my gaze, her eyes flicking away then back again.
My hand moves slower, drifting from her cheek to the edge of her lips. For the first time, I actually notice her mouth in a way that makes me want to claim it.
I shut the thought down fast, noting It’s just the after-effect of her licking the mustard off me earlier. That’s all.
Silence swells between us, heavy and electric, as both of us still held the same position.
"I’ve answered your question," I finally say, my voice low. "Now I have to undress you."
June shifts back a little, eyes dropping. "I said piece by piece," she murmurs. "Clothing by clothing for every question answered. I want to remove my bracelet."
I plant my hands on my waist, arching a brow. "That wasn’t the rule. You don’t get to choose which piece goes."
Her gaze lifts, steady now. "I’ll be the judge of that."
Instead of irritation, a flicker of surprise warms my chest. I’m not in control — and yet I’m letting it happen. "Do as you wish," I say, and it surprises me how willing I am to wait.
She rises, smoothing her dress "Then I’ll take off my jacket instead, to suit us both."
The jacket slides from her shoulders. Underneath she’s wearing a strapless dress, a soft swell of her breasts visible. My eyes trace her body without permission, and I have to reevaluate whether my raging cock is actually willing to wait.
"Stop looking at me like that," her voice cuts through, thick with desire.
My lips part slightly; my gaze lifts to her face and then drops back to the curve of her cleavage. "And what if I don’t stop?" I ask.
Her voice rings out, trembling but clear. "I’ll break your first rule. I’ll kiss you if you don’t stop staring."