Red Mortal (24 page)

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Authors: Deidre Knight

Tags: #Man-woman relationships, #Goddesses, #Gods, #Paranormal, #Delphian oracle, #Fiction, #Romance, #Paranormal romance stories, #Immortalism, #Daphne (Greek deity), #General, #Leonidas, #Contemporary

BOOK: Red Mortal
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“Second, I understand the importance of a fine ass . . . uh, asset.” His eyes crinkled at the edges, the lines deeper than they used to be. “I’ve often thought mine almost too . . . big. Muscular, you know?”
“Oh, God no!” she blurted. “It’s just like the rest of your body—which is perfect, perfect, by the way.”
His smile deepened, the scar along his lower lip becoming more pronounced. With his more mature look, the thin white scar stood out starkly against his olive skin. The effect was downright sinful, what it did to her. “You look like a pirate,” she said, touching her own lips. “A very sexy, ravaging Greek pirate.”
He clearly loved that she found him handsome—it lit him up as nothing else ever did or could. Stripped down to his bare body, standing there, eager for her, waiting, she’d never found him more deliciously lovely. His proud erection jutted out, thick and ready, and as her gaze drifted to it appreciatively, it gave a slight jerking bounce.
All
of Leo was ready for their joining.
That’s when it really hit her: He was going to be inside her . . . in a matter of moments. That beautiful cock, the one she’d taken in her mouth earlier—what felt like a lifetime ago, now that they were here on Olympus—was going to penetrate her completely.
“Get in the pool, Daphne,” he commanded in a guttural voice. “I can’t wait, not now.”
She nodded, stepping onto the slick rocks that led into the waters. Instantly, warmth like she’d never known suffused her body—this pool was life. It was filled with it, brimming with it . . . surely Leo would experience some benefit.
She watched as he climbed down the steps, more slowly than she had, favoring his knee. But then he slid right into the pool, his big body sending water surging up against the sides. He moved toward her, and even here in the water, it was as if she were being stalked by a hungry lion. In matters of intimacy, it was becoming clear that his leonine manner was an absolute part of who he was.
He pulled her into his arms with a rough growl. “I’ve never wanted you like this . . . it’s a frenzied feeling. I’m tight . . . hungry. Daphne, I . . . can’t wait,” he repeated, trembling almost as much as she was.
She felt the surging of his heart against her body, his pectorals rising and falling with huffing breaths. Daphne swallowed, licking her lips. It was nearly impossible to restrain herself from Leo, whose hard-on was now sliding against her belly as he cradled her close. All she wanted was to take hold of that erection, to stroke it, then guide it between her thighs.
 
The rocks were apparently an intentional part of the pool’s design. They provided a splendid altar for lovemaking. With Leo’s knee throbbing so badly, he couldn’t kneel or lever himself atop Daphne, but that was probably just as well. This, her first time, he needed to be gentle; he also needed to give up some control.
He sprawled backward on the stone seat, submerged in the warm, erotic waters, and pulled Daphne astride his lap. “This way,” he explained, “you can direct the pressure.”
He hated thinking of her experiencing any pain at all. But would a demigoddess have some remedy, perhaps—some way to ward off the lancing sting that ordinary virgins experienced?
“Can you . . .” He tried to find the right words, fumbling. “Daphne, for a human female, the first time is painful.”
She settled atop his lap, digging fingers into his shoulders. “I can work my magic,” she told him huskily, grasping his meaning. “The pain won’t impact me.”
He leaned back against the smooth rocks, studying her with lust-filled eyes. “How do you do that?”
She bent down, kissing him. “Like this,” she said, snapping her fingers. “But I didn’t, even though I could. Because I want to experience everything about our first time, even the pain. All the reality. All of what it means to become your lover.”
Leo cupped her cheek. “Can you do that with emotions, as well? Protect yourself against a moment of extreme pain?”
She clearly saw where his reasoning was headed. “Leo, you are not going to die. And, no, I can’t do it with emotions . . . if I lose you, I’ll grieve for the rest of my days.”
This was not the conversation he wanted to be having now. In fact, he didn’t want to talk at all—he wanted to have his Daphne, at last. She opened her mouth to say more, but he kissed her before she could speak. And not an ordinary kiss, either—it was the most erotic kiss he’d ever experienced, or given to any female.
He began by clasping her face; it was almost even with his for once because she sat astride him. He pulled her toward him, reclining more fully against the rocks. She climbed up his body, following the kiss, and he plumbed the inside of her mouth with his tongue. As she surged with him, his erection poked her in the lower abdomen. Then, without breaking the kiss, he did what he’d craved for so long.
He moved his manhood between her thighs, brushing it against her intimate place. Even in the water, he could feel how slick she was for him—a thrilling sign of how much she wanted him.
She did.
Somehow, the fact that Daphne genuinely longed for him was still such a welcome surprise. His body no longer young now, his hair silvering—and his face as unattractive as it had ever been—still, she loved him. Yearned for him.
The kiss grew hotter then, she digging her fingers into his scalp, he seizing hold of her nape so he could kiss her even more deeply.
Gods of Olympus, he had to be inside her. He ached for it, needed it. Every instinct in his body—from his natural human ones, to the part of him that was still, at the deepest level, a hawk warrior—screamed for him to claim her as his own. If Ares hadn’t taken away his shape-shifting abilities, Leo had no doubt that, submerged in water or not, his hawk nature would have come screeching and clawing to the surface, territorial to the extreme.
In this instance, perhaps it was a good thing that he’d been robbed of his transformation, he thought, pressing upward between Daphne’s legs. He felt the slick warmth again; she was as ready as he was, and it was time. He couldn’t endure the wait any longer, not with the surging supernatural energy of the waters—and whatever extra dose Eros had added. The combination had Leo aching, his sacs drawn tight like wire, his seed bursting for release.
Daphne broke their kiss and sat up tall, straddling him, her thighs locked about his hips. He was half reclined and half sitting himself, and the position gave her all the power. Even that aroused him, the idea of his petite Oracle, mastering him sexually, or perhaps it was simply the thought of her taking him all the way inside her.
She smiled slowly at him, and then rose up onto her knees, adjusting his tip against her opening. And then, never taking her eyes off him, she lowered herself onto his hardened cock. Her expression changed, emotions moving like wildfire across her face—and for a moment as he hit that one point of resistance, he braced to see pain. It was the last thing he wanted, but she hadn’t wanted to mute any part of the experience.
He surged upward with a cry, pulling on her hips at that same moment. He drove all the way inside of her then, and her eyes went wide, wild blue, welling with tears of pain, he thought at first. But the beaming smile on her lovely face told him otherwise.
She caught her breath, leaning forward for one moment. “You’re inside me. All the way inside,” she murmured wondrously.
Oh, just you wait, my darling. Just you wait
, he thought, grinning at her like the very devil. Seizing hold of her small waist, he helped her establish the rhythm, moving her atop him even as he worked his way in and out. The wide-eyed wonder was instantly replaced with something much more wanton: Daphne tossed her head back, riding him shamelessly, their thrusts and movements urgent. In unison. Frantic.
She cried his name, moaned it, groaned it; each time a discovery as he slid to the outer edge of her entry then plunged deep inside anew.
His groin seized forcefully, drawing his balls upward. The pressure was immense; he was right on the crest of release. He imagined his seed, thick and hot, spurting inside of her, and a primal need overtook him. She was his—he was marking her, branding her. His seed would complete that fact.
At once, he felt her tighten about him, a tensing as she sped her friction and motion against him. Up and down her hips moved as pistons, and she cried out loudly. “Oh, Leonidas . . . my Leo . . . oh gods . . .” She dug her fingernails into his pectorals, arching her back. The sight of her orgasming for him, her wet hair wild and plastered against her cheeks, was the most beautiful thing he’d glimpsed in all his immortal years. And the sexiest. It was his absolute undoing.
A sharp sensation in his groin answered her, and he spurted jets of his seed deep inside her.
He dragged her down for another kiss. “You are mine,” he told her fiercely, capturing her mouth. The primal, territorial cry rose up like a wave inside of him.
He would never let Ares part them. He would not allow that jealous god to touch his Daphne . . . if it took his dying breath, he’d make sure that the god understood one thing. He might rob Leo of his life, might steal away his youth—even revoke his hawk nature. He could do all of that, and still, one truth would shine from the top of Olympus to heaven itself.
Daphne of Delphi completely, thoroughly, belonged to only one man in the universe: Leonidas of Sparta.
 
Daphne traced her fingertips over Leo’s strong chest, feeling the matted hairs so damp with water. They were sprawled together against the side of the waterfall, each of them sated and breathless in the other’s arms.
Leo had flung his thick arm along the pool’s edge, and cradled her against his side. His breathing was still heavy, and her body hummed with the joy of what they’d done. She never wanted the moment to end, wanted to stay here, making love to Leo forever because she feared looking up into his eyes. When she did, they’d learn whether the pool’s healing properties had helped him—or not. And the Highest God knew she didn’t have the heart to see him unchanged.
Yet, still she prayed that when she did slowly lift her eyes, Leo would appear renewed and youthful once again. That’s what she had to believe.
He cupped her cheek with his scarred right hand. “My love.” His voice was deep, rough as sandpaper. “Tell me what you see.”
She closed her eyes, and he obviously understood her hesitation. Very tenderly, he tilted her chin upward, forcing her to face the truth. She knew what she must do, but she couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes.
If this avenue didn’t work, what would their next step even be?
Leo stroked her damp, waving hair, soothing her a little. “You must look at me, Daphne,” he encouraged. “I need you to be my mirror.”
With a steeling breath, she opened her eyes and faced their truth. His almost-black eyes were filled with hope, the lashes damp from the water. Unconventionally handsome as always—downright ruggedly so.
And yet what she glimpsed on Leo’s face speared her heart. Nothing had changed in his visage, at least not yet. He was exactly as he’d been when they first submerged in Eros’s powerful pool. Her vision blurred and she blinked at the tears, willing herself to be stronger for Leo, stalwart—to display outrageous courage, just as he always did. That was what her beloved deserved.
He gazed upon her, the hopeful look in his eyes fading to resignation. All she could do was slowly shake her head. He was as beautiful and handsome as he’d always been, but he hadn’t regained any youth from the pool—or from making love with her in it. If anything, he was already a bit older.
“Perhaps it simply takes more time,” she suggested in an overly bright voice, “for the pool’s magic to work and take effect.”
Leo captured her with a rough kiss, pulling her down atop him. “So be it,” he growled. “I hardly care at the moment—I want you too badly right now, right here, to worry about the future.”
“But we should think of those things.”
Leo growled a complaint, thrusting his tongue deep within her mouth. His thick thighs fell open, and he cradled her close against his groin. He might be older in some regards, but sexually? He was an inferno, his body poised and already ready again. He still wanted her and badly. Despite being spent, despite them having just joined for the first time—he was downright desperate to take her all over again.
Her own reaction was a war unto itself—she grieved that the pool had failed them, yet she was hungry for him beyond anything she’d ever known, beyond reason or control. She burned inside, the sensation so strange, so unfamiliar—and yet even more wonderful than she’d imagined. It seemed so mystical that he had literally entered her, leaving a part of himself behind, a gift that might even give them a babe. She could
still
feel him, all inside her, and she wanted him there again.
“Perhaps,” she said, breaking the kiss for a moment, “it takes more than once. For the pool’s power to affect you.”
Leo growled, “I’m happy to find out,” and kissed her again, deeper. His hand was all in her hair, the other was clasping her buttocks, squeezing. He’d reclined all the way back on the rocks, the water sloshing over the pool’s edge as they fell into each other’s arms.
For one endless moment, they were sealed together, chest to chest, hip to hip. Leo needed to possess her, to move into her deepest, sweetest warmth once again, only this time without that moment of flinching pain as he breached her barrier. This time—he wanted to make her even more intoxicated by the pleasure he offered.

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