“I hope not and only with the most delightful of things.”
“I never would have believed that you like to dance.” (Or that he would look so damn sexy while he was doing it.)
“Everything in Life has its own rhythm, its own beat, from waging war to making love to dancing. You just have to listen for it and then fall into it,” Ares said easily and twirled her once more before bumping his side into hers. “At least I don’t do the White Man’s Overbite, hmm?”
Alena laughed again. “You don’t even know what that is.” Spending most of his time out here on this lonely island, how could Ares possibly know the White Man’s Overbite?
“No?” Ares jutted his front teeth and bit down on his bottom lip while he pulled his arms in close to his body with the forearms out to the side. His broad shoulders pumped up and down as he shuffled from one foot the other without picking them up. Ares continued dancing, bobbing his head funkily and snapping his fingers until he thought Alena would fall to the floor weakened from laughter. “That pretty close?”
If the God of War wasn’t afraid to make a fool out of himself in front of her, indeed if he would do it for her benefit, then how could she ever fear or doubt him? “Perfect,” she tittered as she blushed. “Spend a lot of time in discos, do you?”
“Ah, Studio 54 was one of my favorite hangouts. Where do you think I learned how to do this?” Ares asked as he continued the funky little dance.
Yes, she could see that. Ares probably adored New York City with all of its hustle, bustle and underworld crime, not to mention all the sex, drugs, booze and loose women of Studio 54. With its flamboyance and wanton hedonism, Ares must have loved the high-class high-profile discotheque until it fell into bankruptcy in the mid 1980s. Alena was more of a Boston type of a person and she imagined that would leave them sitting on opposite sides of Fenway Park.
Near to the end of the song he stepped behind her, pulled her in close and laid his hands on her hips. When she turned to look at him from over her shoulder, those slender hips rocked in time to the rising desire he saw reflecting back at him. One hand on her hip, the other slid slowly upward over the thin material of the gown, over heavy breasts bearing hard nipples and up the nape of her neck. Ares pushed her silver-gray hair away with gentle fingertips just before he blew hot breath onto her exposed flesh. Alena’s head tilted to the side to offer him a better advantage.
Behind them on Alena’s old cell phone, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg ended and the next song began.
I’ve been really tryin baby
Tryin to hold back this feeling for so long
That sly smile returned to Ares’ lips as they brushed over the skin waiting so patiently for him. A few soft kisses and she started to coo, her hips pushed back into him as they kept time with the smoky beat. Those full moist lips of his parted to suck in the tender flesh offered so willingly and devoured it like a fine feast. The sweet cooing coming from her throat turned into a gasp and then a moan and soon it was even more heated as she began to tremble in his arms. One hand cradling her head now too weak to hold itself upright and the other exploring the curve of her hip, she began to melt into him.
Let’s get it on
With the soft mound of her butt grinding into him, Ares grew hard quickly. The sweet salty taste of her dancing on his tongue and the even more sweet music of her sighs filling his ears, he drew in more of her flesh and bit down a little harder.
“Ares?”
She didn’t have to say his name, he felt her hesitate and to that he sucked just a tad bit harder, pulled her in a little firmer as he started to nearly gnaw on her. “Give it to me. Now.”
Alena’s felt her whole body burst into a tingle just before the sun seemed to explode before her eyes. She climaxed with a long slow shudder and then stood weak in his arms. “Did you? How did you? Was that?”
Licking his lips Ares gave her a self-satisfied smile. “Want me to do it again?” Strange how the human body worked. That places which could cause paralysis, agony and even death, when used properly could also bring about the most exquisite pleasure.
There’s nothin’ wrong
With me lovin’ you
“Ahhh, now, about that private dance,” Ares encouraged.
Yes, after their little dance and that minor eruption Alena’s confidence was growing, as was the bulge in those wonderfully fitting leather pants of his. “Why don’t you take a seat…my Lord?” Ares had his back to the throne and she gave him a little shove to sit him down. “I think you’re overdressed,” she cooed as she leaned in close to him, parted the sides of the leather vest at his chest, and was very pleased to see his skin its normal deep olive, no more bruise, no sign of the bolt that had hit him and brought the mighty God of War to the ground. “Give it to me.” Ares slid his arms out of it and handed it over to her. Alena hung it off one arm of the throne. “You are the most handsome, most irresistible man I’ve ever seen.” Taking a few steps back from him so that she stood in the firelight, Alena’s too-slender hips began to sway from side to side.
Ares greatly appreciated his view as he nestled back on his throne to enjoy that tingling feeling in the growing part of him. The more she moved, the more it tingled and the harder it became. His mouth watered and his heart raced when Alena turned around, put out her backside and rolled her ass for him. “Take that off.”
Turning around with heated eyes and biting down playfully on her bottom lip, Alena grinned for him as she slowly shimmied downward, her shoulders rolling in time to those seductively rocking hips. She reached for the hem of the nightgown. Taking the soft material in her fingertips, Alena continued her serpentine shimmy, never taking her eyes from him as the nightgown slowly lifted off the ground.
It came up over her ankles and then her shins to show him those silky strong calf muscles. Over the knees and up the thighs, Ares swallowed hard and found it difficult to stay in his seat. When the white nightgown slid up over her flat stomach, he reached down and grabbed that hard part of him, gave it a good yank when her soft full breasts came into view. All the while those hips rocked and swayed like a snake charmer’s pungi—not to be confused with punji—and just as hypnotizing.
The gown went up, up and over her head to reveal the full body that he adored. Alena tossed the nightgown at him. Ares picked it up, pressed it to his face and broad bare chest as he inhaled deeply. It was warm from her, it smelled like her, all honeysuckle and desire.
Swaying and shimmying for him, Alena’s hands slid over her body as though she thrilled to her own touch. From the flat of her stomach, over the curve of her waist and to her naked breasts where she stopped to tweak a nipple and then wink at him, they ran over her like the hands of a lover. Up the sides of her neck and over her lips to blow him a kiss. Then they glided downward again, ever so slowly to touch and caress every alabaster inch from her heaving breasts, over her stomach and to the bald place between her legs where Alena reached between to tease her Lover ever harder. All the while, those hips rocked and swayed to Marvin’s tune. Inviting him to come take part in the soulful pleasure the man was singing about.
When the fingers that had been between her legs rose up and crossed her lips and her tongue flicked out to take a taste, Ares could not wait any longer, did not want to wait any longer. “Come here, woman, come do what you were going to do before our dance.”
“Ready for me now, my Love?”
“More than ready.” Ares held his arms out to her and watched with gleaming eyes as those hips swayed their way over to him. Alena did her sexy little shimmy for him as she sank to her knees but before they touched the dirt of the cave floor, a soft pillow appeared below them. “I want you to be comfortable,” he invited and she let out a little chuckle. Those deep eyes closed when her hand ran over the hard sensitive bulge below the leather and Ares let out a long moan. When she slipped her fingers into the waistband, this time his hips came up to her touch and allowed her easily to slide the thick constrictive leather away from him.
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A velvety hand encased the hard pulsing cock between his legs, wrapped around it like a soft glove. It brought heat, desire and peace all at the same time. That was a most fascinating emotion for Ares; heat, desire and lust were things he was accustomed to and knew well. Peace was not and he let it carry him away, spurred onward by the hot breath gently blowing against him. Wanting Alena to have the best advantage possible, he slid a little further down on the throne and slung a leg over the arm to give her the best possible access.
For several long moments, she taunted him with the tip of her tongue. Dancing it around on the tip of his hard shaft, making it twitch and dance to her tune in return until he thought he’d reach out and push her head down on him. The sweet teasing didn’t last that long and soon he was sliding down her wet warm throat, her tongue wrapping around him and those full lips suckling with much zest.
4
“How much of this insult am I to bear?!” Cernunnos bellowed making the windows in his own throne room ring out in protest.
Mae could not help it; she was as defiant as her daughter was. “At least a few more hours, my Lord.” So it would seem to her. Ares might cum quickly but Mae had the feeling their evening would not end there. “I dare say she’ll take him around the world before dawn and revel in every moment.” She readied herself for the coming smack but Cernunnos did a most confusing and amazing thing instead.
“Get out!” he shouted and pointed roughly toward the door.
Mae wanted to run for the door without looking back but she was afraid of an ambush. He never told her to get out when she was crass. He yelled. He hit her. He did other unspeakable things to her.
“Are you deaf, bitch? Get out!”
Scrambling to her feet naked, not bothering with the clothing she’d come with as it was just rags now, Mae ran across the room and out the door where two Druids were waiting to take her back to her cell. She would like to watch Maggie and her handsome Lover, not to be voyeuristic but just to be sure Ares did care for her daughter. It was better to leave. If she was right and Cernunnos was about to witness a scorching night between his Wife and Ares it was best not to be present. That didn’t stop Mae’s heart from being elated for Maggie.
5
On his Throne of Bones, Ares’ eyes sprung open. Alena did not stop doing the wonderful thing she was doing between his legs. Ares looked around the room and did not see anyone but he swore that he had heard a voice, an angry voice, yelling at someone to get out. Who and where he couldn’t tell. Holding his breath and straining those finely acute ears, he listened as hard as he could but heard nothing more. Nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat and the passionate sighs between his legs. Perhaps Alena was right, perhaps there was some aftereffect of the bolt the Druid shot at him. Perhaps it was just his mind playing a little trick on him or perhaps it was just a whisper of the wind catching his ear wrong. With that falsely comforting thought in his mind, Ares returned to surrendering to the growing pleasure and lust. Grabbing up handfuls of silver hair he spread it up and out over his bare skin while he ran his fingers through it. “How is it you know exactly what to do to me?”
Alena’s only answer was to look up at him and away from her work. When she did, he pulled her hair away from her face. Their eyes met and hers smiled at him. Ares thought the mere sight of his cock in her mouth would bring him to climax. Still shy, still unsure of herself as a Lover, Alena swiped her own hand through her hair to bring it down between them like a veil. It was swept back quickly.
“I want to see you. I want to watch you while you pleasure me.”
That silky tongue lapped around him while she let out a little humming titter and held his stare. There was just something in the way he was looking at her, it captivated her, captured her like a small bird in the palm of his large powerful hand. She never wanted him to stop looking at her that way, until the day she grew too old and frail for her heart to keep beating she wanted to look up at him and see him staring back at her just like this. With eyes so alight with a love so deep and intense, they shone like the sun making her desire to return the favor with equal intensity. One hand moved away from the shaft it had been pumping, up to his chest to land in that soft patch of fur over his heart and knead at the flesh. Ares’ eyes fluttered shut as they rolled back in his head, just before they closed completely Alena saw nothing but the whites of his onyx eyes. His hips came off the throne once more and she buried her face in that soft patch of raven hair just above the throbbing Louisville Slugger in her mouth. From his raven head to his toes, his heart to his soul, Ares felt every inch the God and then some.
6
The only reason Ares did not hear the howling bellow of Cernunnos’ rage when the God of War let loose the hot load of cum was because his own howl blocked it out as Alena greedily gobbled up every cherry drop. Although his sweat-bathed skin prickled with goosebumps and turned cold, he didn’t even think about it, so lost was the God of War in the realm of Desire.
“I’m going to kill her! Do you hear me, Magdalena? I’m going to tear you to shreds!”
7
“Satisfied, my Love?”
Catching his breath, Ares let out a chuckle. “Loaded question,” he commented. “I know you are not so then I am not. Climb up here, woman. Ride me.” Reaching down for her to bring her up to him, Ares noticed first that she was cold and covered in goosebumps, then he recognized the same about himself. He cast a swift hand toward the fire making the blaze spring to full life as it roared up the chimney. It seemed the early autumn evening had turned chilly while they weren’t paying attention.
Wiping the last of what he had given from her chin, she climbed up on Ares lap and settled down on the tip of him. Satisfied or not, Ares was still standing at attention and showed no signs of falling flaccid. “Kiss?” Alena asked fearing he would turn her away not wanting the taste of himself on his tongue.
“Kiss,” Ares agreed as he pulled her to him, his hands running along the soft skin of her back down to the soft round of her ass. The kisses, they had to be the best thing of all. Kisses. Kisses. Kisses and more kisses. So rare and wonderful. The Olympians found the simple act of kissing revolting. They did not kiss except on the cheek in greeting and that was only if they really liked the other person or wanted to get close enough to plant a dagger in their gut. There was little intimacy in what they called making love. Such was the price for being a God, for being Immortal. It only took a mere 2000 years of life before one could say they’d done absolutely everything the planet had to offer—twice, if not more. After that it was all downhill. Nothing was new anymore. Living and loving in the moment were unheard of as there was always another moment and then another and then two million more after that.
When Olympians engaged in these acts, it was Pleasure for Pleasure’s Sake, and more than that, Pleasure for their Own Damn Sakes. The more perversion and depravity the better. In the Old Days, they held huge Bacchanalias where the food, drink, and orgies went on for days. While these events were quite delightful, as with other sexual acts between Olympians, there was only taking. No giving. They did not kiss passionately. They did not embrace with urgency, their naked bodies crying out for the touch of their Lover. There was only raw sex. Not that there was anything wrong with that but this was so much better. This was so much more. It was splendid, magnificent, and even divine. It was deserving of such high praise and honor that songs and poems should be written about it, and they were, thousands upon thousands of them. While he’d read these things, he had always scoffed at them, at Mortals and their foolish hearts. Not now that he had her here in his arms. Never again would he call such things foolish. Ares felt her, all of her. Alena’s heart, her soul, and her very essence were entwining with him. Never had he been so close to another on all levels nor had his needs so fulfilled.
“If I tell you a secret, will you be angry?” Alena whispered against Ares’ neck in between little licks and nibbles.
When a woman had a secret to reveal at s
uch a tender moment, it was usually a big one. Usually only one particular secret. “What did my Mother tell you?” He knew Hera had healed Alena and they had spent a good deal of time down here talking while Zeus bent Ares’ ear.
Rising up on her knees, pulling away from his neck, she brought her lips back to his for a long deep passionate kiss, Alena sat up on Ares lap, sliding the last of him into her. Although it was mixed with a bit of knowing, that gaze of love and desire did not leave his eyes. The words stuck in her throat as the last bit of fear ran through her.
“Tell me,” Ares begged quietly as his heart began to race. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m pregnant.” The last bits of fear slipped out of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?” It was the first time Ares was ever happy to hear those words. He wasn’t just happy—he was elated, he was walking on air at the news and felt as though he could conquer the world single-handedly. So late in his life, for Fate to give him this most precious second chance was more than he ever dreamed. Like the woman nestled so snug and warm on his hot staff who had never known that she needed Ares until she met him, Ares never knew this was something he even wanted until just now. Nothing was going to keep it from him. “You are perfect. This is perfect.” The flat of his hand found its way to her womb, disappointed that he could not yet feel the life growing within. Hera could and he soon would. “Kiss me again, woman, let our child know that he is conceived in love.”
Alena had been terrified to tell him but now that fear lifted. Even though she was not a powerful, grand, glorious, civilized, self-righteous Olympian, but a lowly filthy Celt, Ares was genuinely happy at the news of his impending Fatherhood and now she could allow herself to feel it, too. To feel the joy, the hope, the love for someone she’d had yet to meet. It overwhelmed her with hopes and dreams for the future. “Always love with you, promise. Only you. Only love.”
OF WAR Anthology Novels 1-3 Page 37
