“Oh, baby. I’m yours. Zeus. My almighty Zeus.”
“Do you submit to your king?” His lips hovered at her throat and she whimpered.
“Yes, yes, oh God, yes,” she cried, her climax coming in tandem with his, his roar rumbling them both as his hips violently hit hers.
Soon, they were returning to earth as Brett began to soften his thrusts and their breathing returned. His grip lightened on her hair and he pulled her upright, her back hitting his chest. He kissed her shoulder and rested his chin there, his nose tickling her earlobe.
“Mmm, I wonder if this gets better when we’re married.”
“Let’s find out, shall we?” she smirked.
She peeled the blindfold down her face and turned to look at him. “Let’s go to Vegas.”
“What? Really?” When she nodded, he said, “I dunno, Sunflower. It seems so impersonal.”
“Did you have a better idea, Zeus?”
“Well, Zeus always has fairly good ideas,” he quipped, lifting his brows. “I think Hera and her multiple orgasms would tend to agree.”
Madi laughed then rolled her eyes. “We should do it during bye week.”
“Weekend after next?”
Madi shrugged. “We are pregnant. And we still have to tell our parents.”
Brett pulled his lips to one side thoughtfully. “Good point. I’m sure we can find a wedding planner who can figure something out that quickly.”
Madi smiled deviously. “Leave that up to Hera, the goddess of marriage.” Madi turned in his arms and took the blindfold, flicking it with her wrist. “Now, I think it’s her turn to have a little fun, what do ya say?”
“You know Zeus likes to dominate, my love. He’s a controlling god after all,” he teased.
“Trust me,” she whispered and leaned into her king’s ear, licking his ear lobe and pulling it into her mouth, lightly biting with her teeth. Zeus trembled, and Hera jumped for joy. “Zeus, and his cock, will enjoy this greatly. I assure you.”
“Damn, naughty girl! You keep talking like that and I’ll have to spank you again.”
“I’d have it no other way, my king,” Madi smirked and pulled her fiancé down to the bed to torture him with her goddess-like sexual prowess.
“Why’s he mad at you?” Madi pouted at a red-faced Skyla.
“Because I want to keep working and not stay home like a spoiled little princess.”
“Hey!” Val interceded. “I’m not a spoiled little princess.”
Skyla looked to Val with a sneer. “I wasn’t talking about you, Aussie Gold. Can it!” The feisty redhead spoke, and everyone paused, looking at her like she might be the next volcanic eruption.
“Sorry, Val, damn these pregnancy hormones. I’m horny one minute, ready to tear somebody’s head off the next.” Skyla huffed and sat down at the breakfast nook table, rubbing her “baby bump.” Val gave her an understanding smile and Sky continued. “I just mean I’m not cut out for that. I was aiming to be the next DA when this happened, and I’m not ungrateful by any means. It’s just…it’s not what I planned, you know?”
Madi took her hand and smiled. “You don’t have to give it up. We’re women warriors. We can have both motherhood and careers.”
“Right? With public ridicule and scorn from our soon-to-be husbands,” Red smarted off.
“What did Trav say?” Madi asked.
“Just that he expected I would stay home.” She grumbled. “I mean he knows how much my career means to me, how could he even say that?”
“‘Cause he’s a man. He doesn’t get it,” Brooke piped in, chewing on a bagel. “Look, sooner or later—not to burst your bubble, sis—but Brett’s gonna ask the same thing of you.” Her brows rose matter-of-factly. “It’s in their DNA, you know? I was watching this documentary about it the other day. They all have this caveman mentality. It’s stronger in some than others. They marry women like their mothers, subconsciously, so that they can become like their second mothers to take care of them. It’s like this innate thing; they work, we nurture, like something out of a damn fifty’s sitcom. Besides, your men have money to last you ten lifetimes. If you don’t work, it’s not a big deal.”
“Ok, you,” Madi pointed at her baby sister, frowning, “lay off the Hulu documentaries, first off. And second, stop raining on the parade, April showers. Jeez, some of us are excited about marriage and husbands and babies and we don’t need your single sass.”
“Yeah, well single-sass isn’t dealing with no man telling her what to do.”
“What’s your beef with men anyway, Brooke?” It was Valeria who asked as Brooke threw daggers into Madi’s eyes.
“I was raped.”
All eyes went to Madi’s beautiful brown-haired sister. Madi couldn’t believe she was talking about it, confessing her secrets—but she dared not intercede with the look on Brooke’s face.
Brooke continued, “He was my boyfriend, and I thought he ‘loved’ me. Yeah, so much for that. No didn’t mean anything in the ‘throes of passion’ and, because I loved him, I was expected to put out at fourteen. Don’t get me wrong, I’d been curious like most young teens are, but when it came right down to the deed, I wasn’t ready… but he didn’t care.”
Madi expected her to tell them the rest. How she’d withdrawn for a time before absorbing her life in ballet, until her injury. Now, she was reckless with love, her life, and her body and nothing Madi had done or said ever seemed to make a difference. She feared for her sister, but hoped that Brooke would find herself in time.
Val was the first to speak, “Wow, Brooke, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”
“It went on for a time before I finally got the guts to break up with him. By then the damage had already been done. Brooke Taylor had put out and other guys wanted a taste. I’d been labeled, so what did I do? I lived up to that label.” Brooke sneered sarcastically, but the pain of her plight ripped into Madi so hard she teared up.
She rested her hand on Brooke’s knee and gave her a weak smile.
“Ha,
