One Shot

Warning: M Rated for Descriptive Lemon, Abusive Situation and Language. Minerva is 21, Artemis is 20.

Artemis' unrequited love for Holly is making him cruel. He no longer has his criminal activities to keep him occupied. Who does he vent his frustration on? An all too willing Minerva.

Minerva stepped down the chalky grey steps of her university. After her conversation with Artemis about loneliness nine years ago, she had made the decision to attend university, if only to hone her social skills. She was generally well liked by the other female students. This was due to her wit, vivacity and strong work ethic during group projects.

Of course she was even more well liked by the young males on campus. This was due to her extremely fetching appearance. Minerva was not tall, but she had a trim, shapely silhouette and delicate features. These young men offered her roses, chocolates and silk sheets. These were the things that she had been brought up to expect. Her mother had brought Minerva up to believe that these affections and flirtations were practically her birthright. And being that Minerva was such a pretty girl, who could argue with her? Yet Minerva rejected these things, she rejected that which she was entitled to. She rejected it all for something that her mother would have been horrified to learn that her beautiful little angel was taking part in.

As Minerva quietly descended the stone steps, keeping her head down and clutching her folders to her chest, one could quite easily assume that this was a demure, shy young student who was considering her next homework assignment. How could the multitude of fellow scholars, how could the wise and sensible teachers descending the steps with her have known that Minerva was anticipating another kind of event. Something dark, something…tawdry.

Minerva hid her revulsion as she smelt the leather and expensive aftershave floating in the air around her, as the gentle fabrics of designer labels brushed her shoulders. For what she was about to do, she did not belong with these innocent, respectable people. It almost made her laugh to think that if they knew what she were about to do, they would probably treat her with discretion, kindness and understanding. Minerva did not deserve these courtesies, or at least that was what she felt. That was how he made her feel.

Speak of the devil, and it will appear. Minerva watched the familiar black Bentley cruise down the sidewalk and pull to a halt to the left of the steps. Minerva did not even hesitate. She walked briskly towards the car, opened the door handle and slid into the passenger seat, as if she had all the right in the world to do so. She shut the door, and set her books at her feet. Minerva kept her eyes fixated on the windscreen. In something dangerously close to masochism, she did not permit herself to look at the driver, the only other human in the car. They made their way through the little winding streets in complete silence. It was not an uncomfortable silence – neither party had anything to say for themselves.

As the Bentley eventually sped down a quiet country road, the destination unclear, Artemis (for of course it was he) slowed the car and lightly placed his hand on Minerva's knee, using the other to steer. Minerva glanced down at the white hand, in stark contrast with her tanned skin. She shut her eyes for a moment as it travelled higher and rested on the inside of her thigh. She finally permitted herself to look at her chauffeur. Artemis kept his sapphire blue eyes firmly on the road ahead, for all the world looking like a responsible young driver, alert and ready for any eventuality. Minerva stared at him unabashedly. He did not mind. They continued thus for about ten minutes, until Artemis swiftly reclaimed his hand and gripped the steering wheel firmly. He neatly turned into an entrance, leading to a dilapidated old motel. Once open a time the building had been a charming country inn with a kind of rustic charm. But someone had tried to make it modern and chic, and had evidently given up halfway through. The building was a grotesque hybrid, and it appeared to be falling apart at the seams.

Artemis parked the car facing the motel, and he and his passenger continued to sit in silence for a moment. Minerva made the first move, stepping out of the car and making her way to the front door. Artemis was startled, but not displeased. He followed her to where she was standing in what could generously be referred to as a foyer. An old man sat behind the desk, shuffling cards.

"I have a reservation under the name 'Paradizo'", Artemis addressed the man confidently.

Minerva closed her eyes. Of course it was under her name. Artemis delighted in reminding her in subtle, devious little ways that she could not pretend that she was being forced into anything. She made her choices freely. She would have a cheek to scold him for it.

The man behind the desk could see that Minerva, standing behind Artemis, was suddenly in acute distress. He did not care. He saw it too often-these young people from the big city, looking for a cheap thrill. He answered Artemis in the affirmative, and they discussed the usual details, while Minerva regained control of herself before Artemis turned around.

Artemis took the key, and by the time he faced his partner in crime, she was composed.

"You go to the bar. You look like you could use a drink. Join me in Room 13 on the second floor when you are finished," he instructed her. There was no real concern in his voice, but there was no malice either. He was, as ever, ambivalent to the whole situation. Or so he would have Minerva believe.

As she obeyed him quietly, as she always did, Artemis strolled to the room he had booked. It was, of course, one of the better ones. In a motel like this, that wasn't saying much, but at least it was clean, a fire blazing in the grate and the smell of polished wood in the air. Artemis helped himself to a glass of red wine from the mini bar, and gazed into the fire. He was a picture of solitude and quiet despair.

"Forgive me," he murmured into the flames, with more compassion in his voice than anyone knew him to be capable of.

"Forgive me for what I am about to do."

With this, he gulped some of the wine. Artemis did not partake in this twisted little communion every time he was in this situation. The particular goddess he was praying to was not some spectre of the sky, but nor was she human. She was a creature of flesh and blood, of strong emotion and an acute sense of morality. He prayed for forgiveness to this angel because he knew that if she learned of his sins, she would weep for him like an angel. In a sudden fit of anger, Artemis threw his wine glass into the fire, and watched dispassionately as the flames flared upwards and outwards from contact with the alcohol. His goddess was a cruel one.

Meanwhile, Minerva spent ten minutes at the bar downstairs. She thought of nothing. The young girl had to remain numb and detached. It was the only way. If she thought of her loving father or innocent little brother, she would break. She soon followed Artemis to the room. The door was (naturally) unlocked. She turned and to shut it behind her, but before she could turn again to see the room properly Artemis had lunged behind her, as silent as a vampire, and had begun attacking her neck with ferocious bites and sucking. Gone were the civilities of daytime. This was the night, and it belonged to criminals, lovers, and acts of betrayal.

Artemis grabbed Minerva by the shoulders and spun her around, biting and kissing along her collarbone, leaving bruises in his path. Marking her as his. He soon tilted his own head back, presenting his marble neck to her. Minerva obediently began administering the same treatment to him. He closed his eyes, and an animalistic growl escaped his throat. He ripped her school blouse from her slender frame. Minerva reached up and unclipped her bra, with one hand, skilfully working on Artemis' tie and shirt with the other. Artemis helped her by shrugging his arms out of his shirt, and smirked as he watched her petite but beautiful breasts fall freely into place before him. Minerva knew that this was one of his favourite parts. He could play with her chest for hours if she could withstand the desire it resulted in. He brushed his thumbs over her nipples, which had already hardened somewhat from the cool air. He leaned forward and lightly flicked one of the buds with his tongue, before fastening on and licking and sucking, rolling it between his tongue and teeth. Minerva gasped and shivered. Artemis tensed slightly and hovered his hand over her other nipple. Minerva knew what was coming and tensed in excitement and dread. Artemis bit down sharply upon one pink nub, while ferociously pinching and twisting the other between his fingers. Minerva's head fell back with the arching of her spine as she cried out in pain and pleasure.

Artemis lifted his head and forced Minerva's down to the level of his waist. The ambidextrous boy used his other hand to undo his trousers, until he stood only in black silk boxers. Minerva reached up and placed her hands on his slender chest, slowly moving them down until they rested just above the waistband. She reached into the black depths and felt his hard shaft. It was Artemis' turn to shiver. Although Minerva enjoyed being dominated by Artemis, that didn't mean she couldn't drive him crazy when she wanted to. Minerva pulled his length free, and gently kissed the tip. The touch was light as a feather, but it was enough to make Artemis shudder. Minerva administered more tender kisses up and down Artemis' flesh, worshipping her god. She took it into her mouth, a little at a time, sucking and swirling her tongue. Artemis tangled his hands in her hair, and started to plunge himself in and out of her perfect mouth. But when he was about to have his release, Minerva pulled back suddenly. Artemis did not usually resort to language, but he found himself rather unpleasantly blindsighted.

"What the fuck-"

Artemis was stunned into silence as Minerva blew soft air from her mouth up and down his foreskin.

"Say please."

Even Minerva was stunned by her own audacity. Not as stunned as Artemis. The boy felt a sudden wave of hatred overpower him. He hated her. He hated her for making him beg.

"Please." Artemis kept his voice loud-he did not wish to be asked twice. Satisfied, Minerva continued her work and gave him his release into her mouth. Artemis pulled her to her feet and shoved her onto the bed. She lay on her stomach. He rarely pleasured her, but her certainly wouldn't now, not after that performance. She needed to learn her place. Artemis ran a finger down her back, from the base of the neck to the back of her waist. She was small enough that when he couldn't see her face, Artemis could almost pretend that she was…someone else. Artemis slid himself inside the girl. He was not a gentle lover, but he always took a moment to revel in the entrance-to celebrate the fact that Minerva was his, and that he could play with her body, heart and even her mind like a toy. Of course the moment did not last long. He soon thrust madly and relentlessly inside of her like an animal, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back. As he felt her walls clench in preparation for her climax, he withdrew.

"What are you doing?" moaned Minerva, trembling.

Artemis touched her dripping entrance with his hand, stroking and rubbing, and guided his shaft further up her back.

"Wait! You didn't prepare me for…that," whispered Minerva, her voice a mixture of worry and lust.

"It's going to hurt."

"Good. I want you to ache. I want you to remember that you're mine," came the reply.

With that, Artemis plunged himself forcefully into Minerva, ignoring her screams of pain and pleasure, as he worked her clitoris with his nimble fingers. They both soon reached their climax, Artemis spilling inside her anal canal with a grunt, Minerva's cries muffled by the pillow. Artemis collapsed on top of her back, breathing heavily. They did not hold hands or cuddle. When Artemis had composed himself, he rose and began to dress.

"Clean yourself up. I've arranged a taxi to pick you up and take you to your apartment in … [checking his watch] half an hour."

Minerva did not even watch him leave. She tried to raise herself up, but her arms trembled and she simply collapsed onto the bed again. For the next while she played the waiting game, for a text or email that invited her into the belly of the beast yet again. And she would accept.

'Yes,' thought Artemis as he drove away from the hotel. 'She will accept'.

Artemis' goddess was a cruel one. She reformed his criminal ways, offering him the reward of love. Then she balked at the finishing post. Artemis took out his rage over this betrayal on Minerva. His goddess had never satisfied his perverted lust - ironically she might have done had she kept her promise-the promise Artemis convinced himself that she had made in every subtle little expression and encouraging comment. He knew Minerva was in love with him, and it did not take him long to discover that she would greedily lap up anything he offered, even if it wasn't love, because she was too afraid that he would snatch it away altogether.

A single theatrical tear made its way down Artemis' cheek. The same thing happened in that lonely motel, as the girl walked to her waiting taxi. Yes, the night is a time for lovers. Even those who find their love unrequited.