Sweet Hell

by Rosanna Leo

  Once again, Josie felt submerged in water. No—wine. Delicious wine. Flowing through her core, drenching her. Making her body seize, quiver. Exploding with voluptuous goodness.

  He licked her softly until the last wrenching spasm ceased. And then he licked her some more, not stopping until he'd bestowed hundreds of kisses on her contented skin. He seemed unable to leave his spot. Transfixed, as much as she was. And long after he'd stopped kissing her, he traced her nether lips with a soft, awed finger.

  Finally, he looked up and smiled such a remarkable smile of gratitude, she felt her heart burst all over again.

  Without a word, breathing in deeply as if to steady himself, Dionysus got up and retrieved her clothing. With a gentle hand, he helped her dress.

  No, she wanted to say. She wanted to be naked with him. Always.

  But she didn't argue. She was too tired. Already, even before he fastened the snap on her bra, her eyes were closing. Needing precious sleep.

  He laid her down, covered both of them with the duvet, and pulled her to his body.

  As he spooned her, as she drifted off, Josie felt his erection thump against her back and heard him swear quietly. Poor guy! She hadn't done a thing to help him, and he was still sighing contentedly.

  Despite her good intentions, she fell into a deep sleep. One laced with lovely dreams of an impossibly gorgeous, nude Dionysus taking her, thrusting into her on the altar of a Grecian temple. Debauched. Erotic. Carnal.

  Whispering ancient words of love she was certain she'd remember to her dying day.

  When Josie woke up, feeling more refreshed than she'd ever felt in her life, Dionysus was already awake. Lying next to her. Grinning. As if he knew he'd just rocked her world. Which he had. But which was totally beside the point.

  "You haven't been watching me sleep, have you?"

  "And if I have?"

  "Well,” she replied, still tingling but wanting to rub the smirk off his face. “That's just creepy."

  He ignored her and kept grinning, the big, immortal clown. And she was doing her best not to resemble a grinning idiot herself. But it was hard not to feel really satisfied. He'd been right. He'd made her feel so good. So precious and ... loved because he'd selflessly given her what she'd needed, taking nothing for himself. Although she suspected from his randy smile the pleasure hadn't been all one-sided.

  And that was a nice feeling. Just as nice as knowing he'd watched her sleep. After all, she'd been fibbing about the whole creepy part.

  "I hate to say it,” he said, launching his big frame out of bed. “But we really ought to be going. You don't want to stay in The Sinners for too long. Bad things happen to the souls who get stuck here.” He turned away to see if they'd left any of her clothing on the floor.

  "Oh, I don't know about that,” she said, stretching like a happy cat. “I kind of like it here. Maybe we could stay a while longer."

  Dionysus looked ready to chastise her again on succumbing to the lure of hell when she felt it. A creeping, slithering sensation near her left ankle. She kicked her foot, thinking it was just a strange itch. But within a nanosecond, it was back, and was matched by what felt like something smooth crawling up her right leg.

  Dionysus was lecturing her about “things in Hades never being what they seem” and didn't notice her growing discomfort at first. And she was stuck to her spot, as the insinuating, invasive things crept up her legs.

  Heaven help her, it felt just like...

  "Josie,” he said, turning to her and holding out a hand. “Are you coming?"

  "I c-can't,” she squeaked.

  His face fell. He whipped the duvet off her body and his eyes bulged.

  Her body was covered in snakes. Serpents of every color and size were working their way around her calves, along her thighs, slithering toward her torso. Red ones, black ones, ones whose strange markings captivated her as much as they repulsed her. Josie watched in horror as the beautiful bed, the bed on which Dionysus had given her so much pleasure, transformed into a thrashing pit of vipers. The lavender sheets, the ones that had been so perfumed by the Greek god's fragrance, seemed to disappear. And the frame of the bed was now just a plain box that housed hundreds of creepy crawlies, all of them wanting a piece of her.

  Even as Dionysus reached in and started tossing snakes over his shoulder, he looked at her. Took in what must be the utter wildness of her eyes. And spoke in the calmest voice he could muster. “Josie. Just nod if you can. Do you have a phobia about snakes?"

  She couldn't nod. A brown serpent was working its way toward her neck. She just blinked a few times at him through her tears.

  "Okay,” he soothed, yanking a five-foot-long creature from her thigh. “I'm gonna get you out of here. I swear."

  And as he continued pulling at the black, writhing mass that used to be the bed, Dionysus uttered some words in another language. Greek, she figured. As she listened, trying not to scream at the cottonmouth inching its way toward her cheek, the door to the room burst open. A huge wind whipped through the room, gaining force with each of the god's uttered words. Dionysus seemed in a trance, his body rocking back and forth, creating the wind with one of his mystical talents. And the whole time, he continued wrenching snakes off her body.

  How many were there?

  Little by little, the wind gained power and began to lift the vipers from the bed. Josie watched as each serpent was hauled from her, as if huge invisible hands were picking them up and throwing them out of the room. What had once felt like hundreds of snakes now felt more like ten. Dionysus continued to pluck, and the wind carried away what he could not.

  Finally, there was one left. One snake clinging to her with malevolent force. The cottonmouth, coiled near her neck, lifting its head to bite. Its vicious mouth opened. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  And felt nothing. The wind died down immediately, and she peeked through her wet lashes.

  Dionysus had the cottonmouth stretched between his hands. With one worried glance at her, he brought his strong hands together, and ground the snake into dust.

  Josie tried to say something, anything, but all that came out was a whimper.

  Dionysus was with her in an instant, picking her up and cradling her in his arms. Carrying her out of the room, kissing her tears away. As he ran with her down the hallway of The Sinners, she was able to spit out a few words. “Did I mention I was terrified of snakes?"

  "It's okay, moro mou, my baby” he whispered, kissing her temple. “I have your back. I always will."

  They ran toward an open door at the end of the seemingly never-ending hallway. But as they did, Josie took note of some startling changes. All those rooms that had housed the naked, fucking throng had changed too. The orgies had ceased. Where she'd previously seen lovers entangled on beds, she was now seeing countless men and women being boiled alive in enormous vats of steaming oil. Screaming and howling in terror, rather than lust. In other rooms, the orgiastic revelers were being stretched on racks or branded by hot irons. The rooms in which they been lost in lascivious bliss had turned into the most wretched torture chambers. The beautiful fragrances that had filled the house, the lilac and orange blossom, had dissipated, only to be replaced by the stench of vomit and urine and burning flesh.

  The house of pleasure had truly become a hellhole.

  "Please,” she cried, turning her eyes away from the abysmal scene, turning instead into Dionysus's chest. “Take me away from this place."

  Tightening his grip on her trembling body, he did.

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  Chapter 10

  Dionysus ran with her into the woods outside the house, cursing The Sinners. Cursing the gods for allowing such a place to exist. And most of all, cursing his dreaded Uncle Hades for being such a sick fuck.

  How had Zeus ever allowed his brother to invent this appalling place? What kind of perverted minds got off on seeing humans tortured in this way?

  He knew the answer. His kind.

  The
kind he'd gladly been part of for millennia. Reaping all the rewards. Never considering the implications of his or any other god's actions.

  Not until sweet Josie was weeping in his arms, shaking because she could not help all those very lost souls.

  Now he hated who he was. Hated it. Hated that he'd felt so little over the years, even after being granted the opportunity to feel so much.

  His chest heaved as he ran with her. He was feeling now. Definitely making up for lost time. He was feeling so damn much now he didn't know how to deal with it.

  Okay, Dionysus, he urged himself silently. Stay on track. Just do what you need to do and get her out of here. You can wallow later.

  Feeling exhausted for the first time in his life, he looked for a place to rest. There was a small clearing up ahead in the woods. He stopped there and sat, keeping Josie curled up on his lap.

  In that quiet place, he rocked her for many minutes, stopping only when her breath evened out and her tears dried.

  She looked up and her haunted expression made him want to weep. “Why?” she breathed, shaking her head. “Why?"

  He let out a bitter laugh. “Because Hades—the god, not the place—has always been a little too theatrical in my opinion. He's always appreciated a good show. When my father Zeus and his brothers were carving out their portions of the universe, Hades chose to be the king of the underworld. He gets off on this stuff."

  "I just ... I don't understand.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “All those people...” She sniffed, unable to continue.

  He caressed her cheek. “Josie, you're not meant to understand."

  He'd hoped his words might soothe her, but they only confused her further. Hell, he was confused too. All he knew was when he got out of this place, he was going to spend a lot of time with Josie outside the bakery. Perhaps helping her look into that winery thing. Surely, he could help her with that, above all people.

  "Eurydice,” she said. “Please tell me she's not lost in such a horrible place."

  "I think we're getting close. I feel it. Something tells me that if she's still here, she's drifting in one of the next levels. So many people get caught where we're about to go."

  "Why?"

  "The third circle of hell is a place that's been nicknamed ‘The Oubliette.’”

  "I've heard that name before."

  "If you've ever studied the history of castles, you probably have heard of it. Many ancient castles were constructed with an oubliette—basically, a dungeon you could never escape. It was a pit where prisoners were thrown and then forgotten. Of course, in French, oublier means ‘to forget.’”

  She made a face. “That doesn't sound inspiring."

  "That's the whole idea,” he joked, trying to cheer her a little. “Seriously though, Josie, I think The Oubliette is one of the most sinister spots in Hades. We have to be very careful passing through and make sure we don't linger."

  "I don't think I'll want to linger anywhere in this place anymore."

  "I'm glad you feel that way now, because your feelings may change once we get there.” He brushed his finger across her bottom lip, loving its fullness. “In The Oubliette, you may forget things. Those who get stuck there do because they lose their memories of life. They forget who they were, who their families were. Everything. Their memories become a gaping, black hole, and they drift there for all eternity."

  "Will that happen to me while I'm there?"

  "I sincerely hope not. Just trust me when I say I'll get you out."

  She grinned, just a little, but enough to set his emotions on a rollercoaster ride through his body. “I do trust you. With my life."

  With my life. Those three words made him want to call his buddy Hermes and borrow his winged sandals. Having Josie's trust made him want to fly.

  "Okay,” she said, standing up. “Let's do this."

  He stood, awed by her fortitude. “How can you even say that after what you've endured?"

  She raised her head. “Because Eurydice is lost in here somewhere. You said she was an innocent woman, so she doesn't deserve to be here. And if being with the man she loves will make hell a little less hellish for her, it's worth the trouble."

  He stared at her. Gods preserve him!

  He was totally in love with her.

  As they walked toward the entrance of The Oubliette, hand in hand as they'd been for virtually the whole journey, Dionysus was pleased to see Josie had found her sense of humor again. The path to the next level of hell was a rocky, gray place, set in a stark landscape, but she still found funny things to say to alleviate the oppressive mood, which was good because he was still fairly flummoxed at the realization he loved her.

  He needed time to decide what to do about it. He was an immortal! What was he supposed to do now? Would he ask her out on a second date when they got home? Because if this, the most disastrous first date in history was any indication, she might hit him with a big, fat, “Not on your life, buster!"

  He tried to dismiss the disconcerting thought for a minute and listened to her prattling on.

  "I have to be honest,” she was joking. “Hades doesn't offer much in the way of culinary treats. I think, if I ever come back, I'm going to open up a cannoli stand. I think the people down here would benefit from a steady diet of sugar and more sugar."

  He laughed, but the sound of his laughter could not disguise the loud growl coming from her stomach. “Oh, Josie,” he said, feeling badly. “You must be starving. I never thought of food."

  "That's okay,” she replied, rubbing her belly. “I forgot about eating too."

  Then her stomach made another protracted noise, expressing its clear resentment at being forgotten.

  "Well,” he said. “Because I am a god, I do have what my cousin Eryx calls ‘parlor tricks.’ Those parlor tricks can come in handy at times like these.” He swirled his thyrsus in front of his face, and a huge bunch of purple Concord grapes appeared. They fell into his hand, and he presented them to Josie with a smile.

  Her eyes widened with utter joy. A delighted laugh escaped her. “I don't think you could have chosen anything better, or more appropriate, for me to eat than that."

  She munched as they walked, sighing in happiness, and he felt a wonderful sense of satisfaction in taking care of her again. And, he couldn't deny to himself, it also aroused him to see her eat. He began to imagine the luscious sensation of being able to feed her those grapes. Popping them, one by one, into her sweet mouth. Following each one with a deep, lingering kiss, tasting grape juice on her tongue.

  Oh yeah, some of his powers were still okay in his book.

  When she finished, and he followed the grapes with a magical glass of shiraz, her delirium was complete. She downed the rich beverage, practically in one grateful gulp, and smiled widely at him. And then she hiccupped, making both of them laugh again.

  He realized in that moment that he wanted to feed her for the rest of their lives. To ... provide for her.

  But then his fevered brain fashioned an image of him laying her out on a kitchen table, feeding her with his fingers. Disrobing her at the same time he inserted dripping slices of peaches and sweet cherries into her mouth. Followed by succulent cuts of meat and the most decadent of desserts.

  "So,” he said, needing to clear his head but also wanting to hear her voice some more. “Tell me more about your life. Tell me about ... Sean."

  She blanched. “I don't know."

  "You said you trusted me, Josie."

  "I do,” she replied, frowning. Confused. “Why don't you tell me about your life first? I'm sure your stories are more interesting."

  He considered, unwilling to give up on the whole Sean thing, but also unwilling to scare her off. “Oh. I don't know what to say about myself. I think you read me like a book the first day you met me."

  "That was because of the Asian girls eye-fucking you in my bakery,” she teased.

  He started. He'd forgotten about the other women. Since embarking on this deranged q
uest with Josie, he'd forgotten the face of every woman he'd ever known or ever bedded.

  "Well,” she said. “If you don't know what to say, I could ask you some questions, and you could answer them."

  "Okay,” he said, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her playful tone.

  "First question. And this is very important. Your answer could determine the fate of our ... friendship.” She frowned at her use of the word, but continued. “Two words. Betty or Veronica?"

  He wanted to laugh again, but held back in case the question was more serious to her than she let on. “Uh, Veronica?"

  Her lips came together in a disappointed O, and she shook her head. “That is not the correct answer, Dionysus."

  "What?” he defended himself. “Veronica's hotter!"

  "Other than hair color, they look exactly the same. You just think she's hotter because she's the bitchy one. Men, men, men. You're all alike."

  "But..."

  "Very well,” she teased. “You have one chance to redeem yourself with the next question. If you answer incorrectly, I may have to abandon you here and walk home by myself, and never make you coffee again. Are you ready?"

  He nodded, smirking, but highly amused. “Shoot."

  "Ginger or Marianne?"

  He burst into laughter, finally understanding her game. “Marianne! Totally. Those little gingham outfits were so sexy. Am I right?"

  She paused, making him sweat, then smiled. “You are correct, although I suspect your reasoning is different than mine."

  "Okay, Alex Trebek, so what makes Betty and Marianne the right answers?"

  "Because, silly,” she said, her voice a quiet purr. “Veronica and Ginger are way too obvious. Too much like the girls you used to bring to the bakery. You should try picking the good girl some time. You might be pleasantly surprised."

  He regarded her with equal parts admiration and sharp desire. By all that was holy, Josie was right. She'd sure surprised the hell out of him.

  There was a dark, seemingly boundless cavern up ahead. The Oubliette. Josie didn't seem particularly concerned. She ambled toward it, having clearly decided it was the place to go. It was then he noticed her gait was a little uneven. She stumbled and he caught her, steadying her by the elbow. She looked up into his face. Grinning.