Chapter 9: Riding Revenge
Rhea slammed down onto Atlas’s cock, her thighs trembling with the effort, taking his entire thick length deep into her slick, aching cunt in one brutal stroke. Her hands fisted in his dark hair, wrenching his head back, forcing his shadowed, exhausted eyes to meet hers. "Tell me, Atlas," she hissed, venom dripping from each word as she began a slow, grinding rotation of her hips, her swollen clit dragging against his pubic bone with deliberate, excruciating pressure. "Did Marie ever ride you like this?" She leaned closer, her breath hot and ragged against his ear, her teeth grazing the lobe she’d bitten raw moments before. "Did she ever make you scream her name?"
Atlas groaned, a raw, guttural sound ripped from deep in his chest, his hands flying to grip her hips hard enough to bruise. His cock throbbed inside her, already swelling again despite his recent release, stretching her sensitive walls. "Rhea—" he choked out, his voice wrecked.
"Answer!" she snarled, snapping her hips forward sharply, impaling herself deeper, feeling him hit her cervix. The dissolution papers Marie announced felt like ice in her veins, fueling her fury. "Did she ever take your cock this deep? Make you fucking lose control?" She lifted herself almost off him, then slammed back down, the wet slap echoing, her inner muscles clenching viciously around his shaft. "Tell me!"
"No!" Atlas roared, his control shattering. His hips bucked upwards violently, driving into her with savage force, meeting her downward thrust. "Never like this!" His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her harder onto him with each punishing lift of his hips. "Never fucking ruined me like you do!" His gaze burned into hers, desperate, haunted, utterly consumed. "Only you, Rhea! Only your filthy cunt makes me this fucking insane!"
She cried out, the raw confession mingling with the brutal friction igniting her core. "Then scream it!" she demanded, riding him harder, faster, her breasts bouncing, sweat slicking her caramel skin. "Scream my name like you mean it!" Her hand flew to her clit, rubbing frantic, harsh circles as his thick cock pistoned into her depths. "Show me who owns you now!"
Atlas’s head slammed back against the sofa cushion, a ragged, animalistic roar tearing from his throat as his hips pistoned erratically. "RHEA!" The name wasn’t just screamed; it was a raw, guttural surrender, ripped from the depths of his ruined soul. His release hit him like a detonation, thick pulses of cum flooding her clutching cunt as her own orgasm ripped through her, a blinding white heat that tore a shattered scream from her lips. She collapsed forward onto his heaving chest, their sweat-slicked bodies trembling violently, the sour tang of sex and despair thick in the air. His arms locked around her, crushing her against him, his face buried in her tangled black hair, his ragged breaths hot against her scalp. "Ruined," he gasped, the word muffled, broken. "Completely fucking ruined." Outside, a siren wailed in the distance, a mournful echo of their destruction.
The siren’s wail faded, swallowed by the thick silence of Rhea’s living room, broken only by their ragged breathing and the wet sound of Atlas’s softening cock slipping from her well-used cunt. Cum, thick and warm, trickled down her inner thigh onto his jeans. He shuddered beneath her, his hands still locked on her hips, fingers pressing bruises into her caramel skin. His face remained buried in the damp tangle of her wavy black hair.
Rhea stayed slumped on his chest, the frantic energy spent, leaving only the hollow ache and the crushing weight of Marie’s dissolution papers and the tiny life inside her. Atlas’s heartbeat thudded against her ear, too fast, too loud in the sudden quiet. The scent of sex, sweat, and his fading soap filled her nose, nauseating and familiar. She felt raw, scraped hollow, her cunt throbbing, her clit oversensitive against his denim.
A bubble of sound escaped her lips. Soft at first. Then louder. Uncontrolled. Sharp. It wasn't a sob. It was a high, brittle giggle.
Atlas flinched violently beneath her. His hands tightened convulsively on her hips. "Rhea?" His voice was rough gravel, muffled against her hair. "The fuck was that?" He pulled his head back, his dark eyes wide with confusion and a flicker of alarm, scanning her tear-streaked face. "Rhea?"
She looked up at him, her intelligent green eyes unnaturally bright, a terrifying vacancy beneath the sheen. Another giggle burst out, sharper this time, echoing strangely in the room. "Ruined," she managed between choked, breathless laughs, her body trembling on his lap. "You said ruined." Her hand, sticky with their mingled fluids, gestured vaguely towards her nakedness, the mess between her legs. "Look at me. Dripping your cum." Another giggle, harsh and jarring. "Ruined."
Alarm solidified into something sharper in Atlas’s gaze. His grip shifted, one hand moving to cup her cheek, the rough scrape of his knuckles stark against her skin. "Rhea, stop it," he ordered, his voice low, urgent. "Look at me. Breathe."
She met his eyes, the giggle dying abruptly, replaced by a terrifying stillness. Her smile vanished. "There’s… a little problem, Atlas," she whispered, the words chillingly calm after the hysteria. Her free hand drifted down, resting flat on her lower abdomen, sticky fingers pressing into her skin just above the thatch of dark curls. "Inside." Her gaze locked onto his,Their sweat-slicked bodies lay tangled on the ruined sofa, his softening cock still buried inside her, both breathing like they'd run through fire. Rhea traced the fresh bite marks on his collarbone with her tongue, tasting salt and recklessness. "You're gonna need to explain these to Marie," she murmured, feeling his pulse jump under her lips.
Atlas's laugh was rough, strained. "Like she doesn't already know." His hand slid down her spine, fingers digging into the bruises forming on her hips.
Rhea giggles. The sound was sharp, unexpected—a razorblade wrapped in silk. She rolled off him, his spent cock slipping free with a wet sound, and stretched like a satisfied predator. "Guess we should clean up before you go home to *wife*," she said, dragging out the word.
He caught her wrist before she could stand, thumb pressing into the delicate bones. "Don't." His voice was raw. "Not yet."
She arched a brow but let him pull her back down, her naked body flush against his. His fingers tangled in her hair, tugging just enough to sting. "Christ, you're wrecking me," he muttered against her mouth.
"Yeah?" She nipped his bottom lip, her hand sliding between them to wrap around his cock, already half-hard again. "Good."
Atlas didn’t go home immediately. He drove aimlessly for nearly an hour, the stale air in his truck thick with the lingering scent of Rhea’s skin and sex, before finally steering towards the neat, quiet street where his life with Marie was supposed to be. He parked in the driveway, the headlights sweeping over the manicured lawn Marie prided herself on, now looking harsh under the security light. He sat for a long minute, head resting against the steering wheel, the raw bite mark on his collarbone stinging beneath his sweat-damp Henley. His knuckles throbbed. He felt scraped hollow, physically exhausted yet humming with a dangerous, guilty energy.
Finally, he dragged himself out, moving like his boots were full of lead. The front door felt heavier than normal as he pushed it open, stepping into the brightly lit hallway. The familiar scent of lemon cleaner and Marie’s jasmine perfume hit him, clashing violently with the memory of Rhea’s skin. He kicked off his boots, the thud loud in the sudden stillness. He just needed water. Silence. A moment to breathe.
He walked into the kitchen. Marie was standing rigidly at the sink, her back to him, hands gripping the edge of the countertop, knuckles white. She didn’t turn. The tension in the air was thick enough to choke on. Atlas froze in the doorway, heart hammering against his ribs. He started to speak, a useless, placating sound forming in his throat.
She whirled around. Her face was pale, furious, eyes blazing with a cold, terrifying fire. She stormed towards him, stopping inches away, her chest heaving. Her voice, when it came, was a low, lethal hiss that shredded the quiet, laced with years of suspicion and fresh, undeniable proof. "Where were you?" she demanded, her gaze raking over his disheveled hair, the sweat still drying on his temple, the faint, telltale redness peeking above his collar. Her voice rose, sharp as broken glass. "With her again?
Marie’s slap cracked across Atlas’s jaw, sharp and sudden. The taste of copper bloomed on his tongue. "Answer me!" she screamed, spittle flying, her eyes wild with betrayal. "Her scent is all over you!" Her hand shot out, clawing at the collar of his Henley, ripping it down to expose the fresh, darkening bite mark Rhea had left on his collarbone. "This?!" Her finger jabbed the bruised flesh. "Her fucking brand?"
Atlas flinched, grabbing her wrist, his raw knuckles stark against her pale skin. "Marie—" he choked, the lie dying before it formed. Her fury was a physical force, radiating heat. "It’s not—"
"Don't!" she hissed, wrenching her arm free, stepping back as if he were contagious. "Just… get out." Her voice dropped to a venomous whisper, trembling with suppressed tears. "Sleep in the fucking truck. Or crawl back to her." She turned her back, shoulders rigid, staring blindly out the dark kitchen window. "I can’t look at you."
He stood frozen, the silence thick with the ruin he’d created. The dissolution papers lay starkly visible on the countertop beside her. He didn’t move. Couldn’t. The bite mark throbbed. Marie didn’t turn around. "Get. Out." The finality in those words was colder than any fire he’d ever faced. He turned, boots heavy on the floor, and walked out into the night, the door clicking shut behind him like a tomb sealing. He goes back to Rhea.
Rhea opens the door and sees Atlas.
The door clicked open. Rhea stood silhouetted against the warm hallway light, her intelligent green eyes instantly taking in Atlas’s haggard form slumped on her porch. The faint, clean scent of her lavender diffuser drifted out, clashing violently with the stale smoke and despair clinging to him. She saw the fresh redness blooming on his jawline, the haunted emptiness in his usually piercing eyes, the way his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight.
"Marie," Rhea stated flatly, no question in her tone, her gaze flicking to the angry mark on his face. Her own bruises, hidden beneath her robe, throbbed in sympathy. Atlas just nodded, a single, jerky movement, unable to form words, the dissolution papers Marie announced burning like acid in his mind.
Then, Rhea’s expression shifted. A wild, reckless light sparked in her eyes, chasing away the momentary coldness. She lunged forward, her laughter sharp and sudden, slicing through the heavy night air. "Get in here, you mess," she commanded, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as she jumped, trusting him to catch her weight. He stumbled back a step, his raw knuckles instinctively gripping her thighs beneath the robe as she locked her legs around his waist.
Her laughter vibrated against his neck, warm and strangely jarring. She pulled back slightly, her wavy black hair brushing his cheek, her green eyes gleaming with fierce possession. "Forget her," Rhea hissed, her voice low and urgent against his ear. "She doesn't exist here." Her tongue darted out, hot and wet, tracing the curve of his earlobe in a swift, claiming lick. "Let’s take a shower." Her hips ground against the hard ridge already forming in his jeans despite his exhaustion. "Wash her off you." Her teeth grazed his earlobe again, sharper this time. "Wash everything away." She clung to him, her laughter fading into a breathless intensity, her body radiating heat against the cool night clinging to his clothes. "Just us now." Her hand slid into his hair, fisting tightly. "Move, Captain."
Atlas staggered backwards into the hallway, Rhea's legs locked around his waist, her teeth scraping his jawline near the fresh sting of Marie’s slap. Hot water exploded from the showerhead, instantly fogging the small bathroom, plastering her wavy hair dark against her temples as he shoved the door shut with his boot. "Fucking strip me," she demanded against his neck, her fingers already tearing at the buttons of his Henley, revealing the dark bite mark on his collarbone like a trophy in the steam. He fumbled with the buckle of his belt, jeans dropping heavily to the wet tiles, his aching cock springing free, thick and already rigid against her soaked robe. Rhea slid down his body, the rough terry cloth dragging over his erection before she ripped the robe open, letting it pool at her feet, her caramel skin slick and gleaming under the spray. "Every trace of her," she hissed, shoving him hard against the cold tile wall, the shock making him gasp as she dropped to her knees. Her green eyes locked onto his, fierce and unblinking as she took the swollen head of his cock into her hot mouth, sucking hard, her tongue swirling roughly over the sensitive slit. "Fuck, Rhea!" he groaned, head thudding back against the tile, the water sluicing over his face, her hands gripping his ass, pulling him deeper down her throat. She gagged lightly, saliva and water dripping from her chin, but didn’t relent, hollowing her cheeks, sucking with a brutal intensity that felt like punishment, like purification. "That's it," she rasped, pulling off with a wet pop, rising, water streaming down her curves. "Wash her out of your fucking head." She spun, bracing her hands against the tile, arching her back, presenting herself. "Now. Hard. Now, Atlas." He needed no further command; one hand gripped her hip bone, fingers digging into the bruises he’d left earlier, the other guided his cock, slick with her spit and the shower spray, to her drenched opening. He slammed home in one brutal thrust, tearing a ragged cry from them both as her tight heat clenched violently around his invading length. Her inner muscles rippled, gripping him like a fist as he set a punishing pace, hips pistoning, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing off the tiles louder than the drumming water. "Is she gone?" Rhea gasped, pushing back onto him, taking him impossibly deeper, her fingers white-knuckled on the tile. "Tell me she's fucking gone!" "Gone!" Atlas roared, his voice raw, his thrusts becoming frantic, shorter, driving into her with bruising force, the steam thickening the air they struggled to breathe. "Only you! Only this fucking cunt!" Her orgasm hit like a seizure, a sharp, broken scream tearing from her as her body clamped down, milking him, triggering his own explosive release, hot pulses flooding her depths as he collapsed forward against her slick back, spent and shuddering beneath the relentless, scalding rain. They slumped against the wall, gasping, the water cooling rapidly, the silence punctuated only by their ragged breaths and the drip from the faucet, the dissolution papers and Marie’s fury momentarily drowned in the steam.