Wicked Beauty (Dark Olympus Book 3)

Up until this point, I’ve been acting on instinct and lust with little thought behind it. For the first time in my life, the draw of the forbidden is too much to ignore. I know I’ll regret this entire experience later, but the spell cast by first Helen, and then Helen and Achilles, is too strong. It’s only as Achilles sinks his fingers into her hair, gripping my hand in the process, and starts to fuck Helen’s mouth that I wonder what her motivation is…and if we’re taking advantage.

She said she gets restless and impulsive. She admitted as much to me last night and again this morning. She asked me if I was okay with it, and I’d been so out of my mind with need and hurt and jealousy that I said I didn’t give a fuck. Yes, she’s shown enthusiastic consent this whole time, but if the motivation for that is harmful, does that consent mean fuck all?

Godsdamn it, we are taking advantage.

“Get the fucking look off your face, Patroclus,” Achilles snarls. “You can feel guilty later. Right now, you’re going to stroke her clit until she comes. If you want to finish her before I come all over her tits, you’d better pick up the fucking pace.”

I want to call him selfish. To agree with Helen’s earlier statement about him being an asshole. I should do that and cut this thing off right now until we can have a conversation where someone isn’t on the verge of orgasming or half-asleep or running from some internal demons only they can see.

I don’t.

I lift my hand from Helen’s clit. Achilles anticipates my need just like he so often seems to and leans down to take my fingers into his mouth. He growls a little as he licks the taste of her from my skin, but he doesn’t pause in his relentless pace. I withdraw my wet fingers and resume stroking Helen’s clit. She moans around Achilles’s cock and tries to keep fucking me, but she’s too damn distracted. Too trapped between us.

“Achilles,” I grind out.

“Yeah. Down.” He’s already moving, shifting back and easing to his knees. I band an arm around her hips, and we follow. Of course we fucking follow him. Sometimes it feels like my whole life has been spent following Achilles, whether it damns me in the process or brings me untold amounts of bliss.

We move down to our knees beside the bed. The new position allows me to sink even deeper into Helen’s tight pussy. I don’t know if I believe in the afterlife, but this must be what it feels like. Hot, wet perfection. No wonder Achilles forgot himself and fucked her bare. It feels so good, it short-circuits something in my brain. My thoughts keep trying to reassert themselves, but then she’ll clench around me, and they scatter like marbles.

I barely allowed myself to think about what it would be like to fuck Helen Kasios, but reality is so far beyond what I could have possibly imagined.

I don’t mean to match my rhythm to Achilles’s. No matter how conflicted my feelings about him are right now, he is my sun and I am helpless against the gravity he exerts. I work Helen’s clit as we fuck her, and it doesn’t take long before she’s moaning and shaking. Still, I don’t relent. I want to feel her come apart around me. I want to fill her up, just like Achilles commanded. So easy to put the responsibility on him, on his orders, rather than admit I want to experience what he did with her, want to make my own mark so I’m not left behind. This is only temporary, but at least I have this right now. It’s more than I thought possible.

She sobs around his cock as she orgasms, and her pussy clamps on my cock so tightly, I lose control. I release her hair and pound into her. Too fast. Too fucking rough. It doesn’t matter because she’s arching back against me, spreading her thighs to take me deeper yet. “Helen, I—”

Achilles leans forward and captures my mouth. He kisses me like he owns me, like he owns this. I’m not sure he’s wrong. Even when he was sitting on the chair watching us, his presence consumed the space. Neither of us could escape it. I don’t think either of us wanted to. I sure as fuck don’t want to now. I come with the mingled taste of him and Helen on my tongue.

He barely lets me finish before he’s pushing us back. Rough. Achilles is too damn rough. But then, he knows I’m there to break Helen’s fall. She lands on my chest, and it’s the most natural thing in the world to wrap my arms around her. I hold her steady as he pulls out of her mouth and strokes his cock once, twice, a third time. Achilles curses as he comes across Helen’s breasts in jerking spurts. She moans and arches her back as if she enjoys the sight.

Achilles braces one hand on the mattress behind us and drags a single finger through the mess on her chest, idly circling one nipple. “Next time…” He drags in a rough breath. “Next time, I want Patroclus to come all over your pussy and thighs, and then I’m going to fuck his come into you.”

Helen makes that sexy little whimpering sound. “Making a lot of assumptions,” she finally manages.

“Nah. I know what I want. And I know what Patroclus wants, even if he won’t admit it.” Achilles slumps down next to us, his ragged breathing joining ours. “I’m starting to know what you want, too.”

A shudder of near fear goes through me. Achilles has that look on his face, the one like a hound that’s caught a scent. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve seen him look like this in the twelve years I’ve known him. One, when we went through boot camp to become Ares’s security forces. They tried to wash us out, didn’t want an arrogant orphan and a nerd who’d rather have his head in a book. Achilles had already decided he’d get through whatever they threw at him, and he did, dragging me along with him.

The second time, when Athena poached him, and me with him. Within the first week training under her command, he dropped onto my bed one night and grinned. I’m going to be her second-in-command within ten years. It only took him six.

The third time, the final time, was when he decided becoming Ares was what he wanted.

Now, he’s looking at her, at us, in the same way, and there’s not enough air in the room. Helen doesn’t know him well enough to understand what danger we’re in, but she tenses up all the same. I let her push my arms away from her and sit up. “Well, that was fun—” She shoots to her feet.

Or she tries.

Achilles moves before I even realize her intent, putting an arm out in front of her. Helen bounces off it and lands back against my chest. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, no, you’re not doing that cut-and-run bullshit again, so sit there, let Patroclus cuddle you, and enjoy the afterglow.”

As much as I like the weight of her on my lap, as much as I do want to put my arms around her and cuddle her close, he just crossed half a dozen lines. I take a deep breath, trying not to react to the scent of Helen and Achilles and sex in the air, and strive to be calm and reasonable. “Achilles, let her go. You can’t just keep people where they don’t want to be.”

“Except I’m bigger than her, so that’s exactly what I can do.” He leans back and closes his eyes, but his apparent relaxation is a lie. I used to fall for it when we were teenagers, and as adults, I’ve played this game with him more times than I can count with pleasurable end results.

Helen didn’t sign up for that sort of game, though. “Achilles.”

He opens his eyes, and for the first time since he walked into the room and caught my tongue in her pussy, he looks absolutely furious. “No, you will not be talking to me like I’m being a dick. I often am, but not this time.”

“I beg to differ,” Helen snarls.

“Beg all you want. First time for everything. Who knows, you might even like it.”

Even though I don’t want to, I carefully set Helen down between us. The alternative is her vibrating with rage in my lap, and I’m only human. I won’t be able to stop my body from reacting, just having orgasmed or not. Without her delicious weight against me, I can finally think a little clearly. “Achilles.”

“Don’t say my name like that, Patroclus. She doesn’t get to fuck us and take off without another word. She’s not running away until we talk. Not this time.”

Helen shoves her hair out of her face, but she doesn’t try to stand up and leave this time. “You didn’t bargain for a conversation, asshole. You only wanted to fuck my mouth and come all over my chest. Mission accomplished. There’s nothing to talk about.”

As much as I hate the way he’s going about this, Achilles isn’t wrong. No matter which way I look at this, what we just did complicated things beyond comprehension. I feel so damn tangled up, I can barely think straight, and Achilles still has that flinty look in his eyes that fills me with foreboding. Every other time, his goal has been a position or meeting an external challenge. I don’t like to think of what he’ll do if people are his goal.

Maybe I’m reading him wrong. I must be. It’s sex clouding my thoughts. I rub my hands over my face and try to think. “It’s safe to assume you’re not going to resign from the tournament.”

“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock,” Helen snaps.

Achilles crosses his arms over his chest and settles back against the mattress. “Are you pissed because you just came harder than you ever have before and that hurt your pride, or is it something else?”

Helen makes a sound that has me fighting not to inch away from her. She’s naked and smaller than I am. What harm can she do? Even as the thought crosses my mind, I shift my thigh so my cock isn’t an easy target. She doesn’t seem to notice, though. She’s too focused on Achilles. “I don’t know, what could possibly be upsetting to me? The fact that my siblings tossed me to the sharks without so much as a warning? Or maybe that my ex is competing in this fucking tournament solely to win me because he finally has external confirmation that I’m nothing more than a prize to be won? Oh, I know! I bet it’s because I was attacked by someone with a knife last night. Ring any bells?”

Guilt hits, a blow that would take me off my feet if I wasn’t already on my ass. “Shit, we shouldn’t have done this.”

“There he is,” Achilles murmurs. “Right on schedule.”

“Fuck you.”

Helen twists to look at me. Her mouth is pink from the fucking Achilles gave her, and there are faint tear tracks on her face, but her look of concern is for me. She reaches a hand up and cups my face tentatively, as if expecting me to reject her. “It’s not regrets. I’m pissed and out of sorts and all fucked up, but it’s not regrets. That’s not what this is about. You didn’t take advantage.”

Ironic that she’s trying to reassure me when we sure as fuck did take advantage of her. Gods, we’re two of the biggest pricks in Olympus. “You came into our room to stay safe, and we used that proximity to fuck you.”

Helen arches a brow, suddenly looking more like herself. “Please. I meant what I said last night. I fully intended on seducing you the first chance I got, and I already fucked him.” She jerks her thumb over her shoulder at Achilles. “If anything, I took advantage of you.”

“That’s about enough of the useless blame game.” Achilles stretches. “Here’s what’s going to happen—”

“Oh yes,” Helen drawls. “Please enlighten us, fearless leader. As if you’ve ever had an original thought in that pretty head of yours. We all know the brains of this operation is Patroclus.”

“Aw, princess, you think I’m pretty. I’m touched.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.” She examines her fingernails, which I belatedly see are painted a matte color that matches her skin. “You came very fast, Achilles. Just like last time. Truly, it seems to be a trend, and I wouldn’t be bragging about it.”

Achilles opens one eye to glare at her. “I’d think after two stellar orgasms, you’d be in a better mood.”

“It’s not like you—”

“Holy fuck, will you two stop bickering like an old married couple?” The words come out too sharply, but everything feels too sharp right now. We’re in this mess up to our necks, and there’s no rewinding the clock to take it back. I can’t think about the fact that someday Helen and Achilles will be an old married couple. “Helen, are you okay? Truly okay, and not just saying that to make us feel better?”

“No, I’m not okay.” She flicks her hair over her shoulder. “But if you’re asking if I’m about to sob with regret because I just had two outstanding orgasms and got railed by two sexy men…also no. Unlike some people, I can compartmentalize.”

“Liar.” Achilles says it almost fondly. “But the next time you’re looking for a distraction, we’re here and willing.”

“How selfless of you.”

“Nah. You’re sexy as shit, and you know it.” He finally opens his eyes and gives a lazy grin. “You’re a whole lot more agreeable when you’re choking on my cock. Let’s be honest, though. You’re downright likable when you’re coming all messy and loud. Can’t wait for round two—or three, if we’re being honest.”

“Achilles.” When he finally falls silent, it’s everything I can do to gather my wits. If she says she’s okay with what happened, then I have to take her at her word. But that means it’s time to unpack the rest of the issues plaguing us. “Helen, he’s right. We need to talk.”

“We’re talking right now.”

I give her the look that statement deserves. Good gods, what have I gotten myself into? “If you’re seeing this through, you’ll be staying in our room until the tournament is over.”

“So you can guard my body.”

I try to ignore the barbs in those words. She’s right, though. We’re shitty bodyguards right now. Anyone could have walked into the suite while we were fucking, and while Achilles has excellent situational awareness, I can’t guarantee he would have reacted quickly enough in the event of another attack. I sure as fuck wouldn’t have. “He saved you last night.”

“Yes, well, even a broken clock is right twice a day.” She rises to her feet. Achilles shifts but Helen holds up her hand. “You’re both right about us needing to talk, but I’m not having a serious conversation while covered in bodily fluids. I’m going to take a shower.”

This time, neither of us stop her as she steps over Achilles’s outstretched legs and walks into the bathroom. The door shutting sounds unnaturally loud in the sudden quiet. Achilles sighs and lets his head fall back against the bed. “Well, that was unexpected.”

“Was it?” I don’t disagree exactly, but something about Helen feels inevitable. This isn’t forever, but I’m drawn to her in a way I don’t understand. Maybe this was always going to happen, even if I didn’t account for it. It makes me wonder what else I haven’t accounted for. “Achilles…”

“Don’t apologize.” He doesn’t look at me. “Don’t you dare fucking apologize. I don’t care if you fucked her because you wanted to hurt me or if things just got out of control. I’m the one who started this anyway. She was into it this morning, so you can take that off the list of things you feel guilty about.”

“And you?”

He turns his head just enough to look at me. “What part of what just happened makes you think I wasn’t into it?”

“That’s not what I’m asking.” But as he waits for me to elaborate, I can’t quite find the words. I don’t want to. If I ask him what he was thinking while he looked at her—at us—with that particular expression on his face, he’ll answer me honestly. I know he will.

I’m not sure I’m ready to hear that answer.

“I swear to the fucking gods, if you say some dumb shit like this being a sign that we’re on the way out with each other, I will take you onto the training mat and beat the piss out of you.”

“You’ll try,” I snap.

“Yeah. You win nearly as often as I do.” He smiles a little, though it fades far too fast. “I know shit is fucked up right now, but it won’t always be like this. Once this tournament is over, things will go back to normal. Better than normal.”

That’s the thing. They wouldn’t have gone back to normal, even if Helen wasn’t in the picture and complicating things. Achilles and I might be relatively high up the power structure beneath Athena, but we’re still just soldiers. At the end of this tournament, Achilles will become Ares. One of the thirteen most powerful people in Olympus. There is no going back to normal after that. He’ll be thrust into the spotlight with Helen at his side as his wife. No matter how much he loves me, it doesn’t change the fact that I will be shuffled back into the shadows.

The future had always held an element of dread for me because the moment he becomes Ares, I lose him. It might not happen with the snap of his fingers, but eventually he’ll outpace me once and for all, and I’ll be left behind.

That was before Helen.

Watching them move on together? Fuck, I can barely stand to think of it.

Saying as much to Achilles is just asking for a fight. He doesn’t see things my way, is so certain he can power through and mold the future to his impressive will. It’s not until he fails that he’ll finally admit I was right, at least in this. He won’t believe me that our eventually ending up on separate paths is all but inevitable. He’ll try to fight for us, to hold us closer, and it will only hurt worse in the end.

Better to focus on the problem at hand. A simple mystery that must have a solution. “Helen won’t back down, and whoever is trying to scare her off is only going to escalate.”

He gives a nearly soundless sigh but doesn’t try to haul me back to the original topic. “Next trial is going to take us from twelve to five. She’ll get knocked out then.”

I wish I had his confidence. Helen has surprised us again and again. The odds might be against her, but they have been from the start. “And if she’s not?”

He shakes his head. “She will be. We just have to keep her cute little ass safe until that point, and then Zeus will sweep in and toss her in some ivory tower until the tournament is over.”

I finally move, leveraging myself to my feet. I can’t look at the bed, the chair, the floor. The memory of what we’ve done is imprinted over all of it. I can’t believe things got so out of control, but this feels as inevitable as everything else surrounding this situation. “This can’t happen again. You and me and her.”

Achilles, the bastard, laughs. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

He doesn’t believe that any more than I do.