Sating the Lust God

by Kate Hill

  His hand caressed her soft mound and dipped between her legs. Long, gentle fingers stroked her to wetness. All the while, he continued kissing her, forcing her to gasp into his mouth lest she faint from lack of air. He swallowed her whimpers and continued stroking and rubbing until she was on the verge of climax.

  Following his guiding hands, she shifted position and straddled him, lowering herself slowly onto his stiff cock. She kept her eyes tightly closed until he was buried to the hilt. His hands settled on her waist and cupped her face. Her heart pounding, Tamanna opened her eyes and met his golden gaze.

  Settling her hands on his shoulders, she whispered, “Do all the gods have eyes like yours?”

  He shook his head. “Mine see in dark places. I am Lord of the Netherworld.”

  “What is the netherworld like?”

  A flicker of sorrow crossed his face. “Why ask such a thing?”

  “Because it’s part of you, and I want to know about it.”

  “It’s dark, like a forest on a moonless night. The waters are black. Cold. All the dead come to me first before they either sink into the depths or cross the ocean to eternity with my brother, the God of Love.”

  She noted the contempt in his expression when he spoke of the Love God.

  “Cold and dark,” she murmured, her pulse thrumming. Instinctively she began rocking upon him. Heavens, he filled her perfectly and touched her in all the right places.

  He nodded, his dark pupils slowly filling his golden eyes as passion grew.

  “No wonder you visit the world of the living,” she said against his lips, then kissed him, her hands splayed across his back, her fingers gripping the powerful muscles.

  With a groan that might have been pleasure or pain, he cupped the back of her head and held her face to his while his tongue plundered her mouth. His hips lifted and she met him thrust for thrust.

  They came at the same moment, gasping into each other’s mouths, their arms locked tightly around one another. Tamanna melted onto him, her head resting against his shoulder, her arms and legs draped over him while he stroked her back.

  She stirred only when he moved her to a chair of her own.

  An uncharacteristically pleasant smile touched his lips. He ran a fingertip down her cheek and across her mouth. “This time I had really better feed you. If you’re to endure a week of this, Tamanna, you must keep your strength up.”

  * * *

  Late that night, Tamanna lay in Chand’s arms, her drowsy thoughts lingering over the events of the day.

  After breakfast, they had made love again, then he had taken her on a tour of the temple, from its highest towers to its deepest dungeons.

  Strolling beside Chand through the cool, dark chambers below, Tamanna noted scratches and worn spots on the stone walls and floor. A stone altar with rusted shackles in each corner, covered in dust, stood the center of a round room.

  “In ancient times, sacrifices were made here,” Chand told her. “Many criminals were sent to me, their blood spilled and spirits cowering on their way through the netherworld.”

  Tamanna shivered from more than the damp dungeon air. “You asked for sacrifices?”

  “I asked for nothing from humans but reverence and the soft, warm flesh of willing females in my bed.”

  “But you did nothing to stop the sacrifices?”

  He shrugged. “The evildoers were mine regardless of whether or not priests offered me their blood.”

  “But what if they weren’t evil?”

  “Then the Love God would collect his due.”

  “What’s through there?” She pointed to a heavily barred door to their left.

  “Nothing of interest,” Chand said, though she noticed an odd glimmer in his eyes.

  Fear struck her with the force of an ax blow. “Are sacrifices still made to you, My Lord?”

  His brow furrowed. “Why do you ask, woman?”

  “It’s just that…”

  “Speak! Since we met you have not held your tongue. Why the sudden shyness?”

  Drawing a steadying breath, Tamanna met his gaze and spoke with more confidence than she felt. “Since entering the temple, I have seen no one except priests, yet I believed your mates were allowed to live here for life.”

  An evil smile spread across his handsome features, revealing the tips of his fangs. “You think the women are sacrificed to me?”

  “As I said, I have not seen --”

  “Come.” He turned and walked briskly down the corridor leading to the stairway up. “I said come, Tamanna.”

  She followed him, glancing over her shoulder at the altar.

  Chand led her up a hidden staircase to another part of the temple. They passed several doors, which he opened, revealing plush living quarters filled with richly dressed women of all ages. They stared at her with curiosity, yet none spoke to her, and their eyes always drifted toward Chand with expressions of lust, some tainted by anger and regret.

  When he closed the last door in the wing, she said, “Forgive me, My Lord. I didn’t mean to accuse you of --”

  “Neither your accusations nor your apology mean anything to me, woman.”

  “Then why bring me here?”

  “The terror of thinking you would be sacrificed might spoil your enthusiasm during our time together.”

  For a moment Tamanna thought he had eased her fear out of kindness. She should have known better.

  On their way back to his chamber, Tamanna reflected on what she’d seen in the harem. Though the women possessed all the riches they’d been promised, they seemed unhappy, perhaps because the reality of their bargain had finally set in. Each of them, herself included, had sacrificed life as they knew it. Tamanna had no family to miss, yet she did have liberty. She had obsessed about Chand for so long that she thought experiencing a single perfect love would be worth trading a free though lonely life. Only in his presence did she begin having doubts.

  Tamanna’s thoughts returned to the present and she lifted her head to gaze into Chand’s face, expecting his eyes to meet hers. She was surprised to find them closed, his face relaxed and lips parted in sleep. He looked quite different than when he was awake. His handsome features appeared noble rather than arrogant. No expressions of anger and loneliness destroyed his perfect male beauty. The smooth, brown expanse of his powerful chest rose and fell with each slow, steady breath.

  Unable to resist, she leaned closer and brushed a light kiss across his lips.

  His eyes, still slightly clouded from sleep, opened partway.

  “Ready again, Tamanna?”

  She shook her head. “I was just watching you and wondering if you have a -- no, that’s a silly question. If you had a wife, why would you bother with us mortals?”

  “I have no desire to bind myself to one woman, and even if I did, no goddess would give up the heavens to rule beside me in the netherworld.”

  “I believe a woman would rather share the netherworld with a man she loves than live alone in the heavens.”

  “No one is alone in the heavens,” he said bitterly. “The deities enjoy each other’s company. Even those who are unmarried are never lonely.”

  “But you’re a deity. Surely you would be welcome --”

  “The netherworld is my realm. I want nothing to do with the others and they want nothing to do with me.”

  Tamanna gazed deeply into his eyes, startled by the pain glistening there. He used anger to mask it, but she could see beyond. How many times had she glanced at her reflection and seen the same expression as she cursed her loneliness?

  Somehow she sensed he would take words of comfort as an insult. Physical touch was the only thing he seemed to understand. Cupping his cheek gently in her hand, she kissed him -- not a passionate kiss, but a chaste and loving one.

  Would he notice the difference? Would it fuel his anger or reach his soul?

  At first he didn’t respond to the kiss. His finely shaped lips felt cold and stiff beneath hers. One of his hands gra
sped her hair almost painfully. She drew a sharp breath, but didn’t attempt to break contact. Instead she kissed each corner of his mouth while tenderly running her fingers through his silky black hair.

  Slowly, he loosened his grip on her and began caressing her with all four hands. His mouth opened against hers and when his tongue began stroking hers, it was with deep, yet gentle caresses.

  Tamanna slid completely atop him so they lay breast to chest. The kiss broke and their eyes opened. She asked him through her look alone if she could continue and she judged by his calm, curious expression that she had his permission.

  While her fingers trailed down his cheekbones and across his jaw line, she covered his face with feathery kisses, learning every plane and curve of his countenance.

  She moved lower, burying her lips against his neck and licking the powerful column. Her hands traveled over his torso, feeling the hardness of each chiseled muscle and relishing the sensation of his smooth, warm skin against her palms.

  Though no words were exchanged, she was beginning to understand this man by his response to her touches. As her kisses traveled across his shoulders and chest, he didn’t move and scarcely seemed to breathe. It was as if he was restraining himself from taking the lead and she didn’t doubt he was. Why was he allowing this?

  “Does this give you pleasure?” he asked.

  “Touching you?” she whispered, fearful of breaking the moment.

  He nodded.

  “Yes, My Lord. Touching you gives me much pleasure, but does my touch please you?”

  “Continue and we shall see.”

  Tamanna smiled slightly and lowered her head, running her lips over his muscle-ridged stomach, her hair trailing over his flesh. Using the tip of her tongue, she outlined his navel and licked her way to his pelvis.

  When she reached his cock, she clasped it and ran her hands up and down the shaft. Settling between his legs, she began licking his sac, teasing it until it was thoroughly drenched with her saliva. By then his erection was enormous, rock-hard and twitching slightly with impending passion.

  She glanced at Chand’s face, noting that in spite of his obvious arousal, the Lust God lay still, watching her through half closed eyes as if trying to understand her. Grasping his staff with one hand, she used her thumb to caress the head, smearing the milky droplet from the tiny eye over the velvety flesh. His long-fingered hands tightened a bit on the bedclothes, and his lips parted as he drew a deeper breath than usual.

  Without warning, Tamanna swallowed as much of his cock as she could fit into her mouth. The head brushed the back of her throat before she pulled it out enough to swirl her tongue around it.

  Her heart pounding, she licked and sucked, thoroughly enjoying her task. His hips lifted and his breathing grew more ragged with each demanding sweep of her tongue and tug of her lips. It amazed her how much she loved touching him.

  She clasped his madly twitching staff and continued sucking fast until his hips almost bucked her off the bed. With a cry that was half growl half groan, he came, spraying them both with his essence.

  Tamanna sat back on her heels, panting, unable to keep her eyes off him as he came hard, then lay still except for the rapid rise and fall of his chest, his eyes closed and an expression of pure bliss on his face.

  His breathing quickly returned to normal. Opening his eyes, he reached for her and dragged her atop him. She straddled him, a smile on her lips. Two of his hands encircled her waist, caressing her, while his other two kneaded her breasts, his thumbs circling the stiff nipples.

  “You’re very wet,” he said. “I can feel it.”

  “How can I not be? You make me feel things I never imagined, My Lord.”

  “What things?”

  “Wonderful things.”

  “They can become more wonderful.”

  In a swift motion, he tossed her higher on the bed so that she knelt above his face. His tongue thrust into her pussy, swirling and exploring.

  Stunned and aroused by his actions, Tamanna grasped the headboard. Her thighs taut, she braced herself over his mouth. His tongue switched from her pussy to her clit and back again.

  “Ah, My Lord,” she cried, her legs trembling from the awkward position combined with the intense pleasure of his motions. “I don’t think I can stand this. I --” Her words were cut off by her scream of raw passion. He lapped furiously, flinging her into a chasm of desire where she spun and throbbed until the last helpless quiver coursed through her body.

  If he hadn’t slipped from beneath her and tugged her to his side, she would have collapsed on his face.

  “Oh, Chand,” she murmured, semiconscious, her body still tingling in the aftermath.

  “Tamanna,” he whispered and kissed her, a soft, chaste brush of his lips against hers.

  Cuddling close to his side, she fell asleep.

  Chapter Seven

  Two days later, Tamanna could scarcely believe Chand was the same man she had met on the first night spent there. Though during his waking hours, the sternness and arrogance rarely left his expression, he seemed to be keeping a firm hold on his temper and allowed her to speak and act freely in his presence. She sensed that for some reason he was deliberately trying to please her, and she was touched by this.

  She heard whispers among the priests that Chand favored her more than any of the other women of his harem. This obviously worried them, though she never learned why. Every time the conversation seemed to deepen, one of the priests would realize she was listening and they would fall silent, leaving her with her thoughts until Chand joined her.

  Though they made love often, they also shared all their meals, walked in the temple’s gardens, and talked. She asked him many questions about the heavens and the netherworld. He replied about the heavens in great detail, spinning stories of their beauty and splendor. He spoke of the other deities with contempt and affection, a frightening combination. While he felt kinship with his fellow gods, he also harbored a great deal of bitterness. She longed to ask him why, but thought it too soon. Having him open up to her this much surprised her, and she didn’t want to break the fragile thread of their relationship by pushing him just yet.

  Oddly, his descriptions of the netherworld were sparse at first. She did pry then, longing to know what his home was like.

  “Most of the netherworld you should not want to hear about,” he said one sunny afternoon when they rested beneath a tree in the temple’s largest garden. She sat with her back against the thick trunk, Chand lying on the ground with his head in her lap. She ran her fingers through his hair and touched the curves and planes of his face.

  His eyes were closed, so she saw no emotions spinning there, and his voice -- when not raised in anger -- kept a calm, smooth tone that might have lulled her to sleep had it not been so virile and arousing.

  “It’s a harsh place,” he continued. “The black waters are filled with the souls of the damned. Even I must take care when I wade among them. Show them a second’s weakness, and they will devour you.”

  No wonder he seemed awkward when showing gentleness.

  “How did you become Lord of the Netherworld?”

  “It’s a precarious place to rule, Tamanna. Other deities approached my father, the God of Gods, wanting the netherworld for themselves. Most of them were too weak to control the spirits there. Others would have channeled their power to other worlds for personal gain, therefore disrupting the balance of the universe. Hell has its own power. It’s strong, and like the power of the heavens, a bit of it flows through all things. Balance and order must be kept. The other deities know this. I enjoy keeping order in the netherworld. I do relish its dark power, but I am not a fool to risk destroying the universe for my own gain. It is enough to rule in my darkness.”

  “But --”

  “No more talk, Tamanna.” He sounded irritated. “It’s not often I can enjoy the sunlight.”

  Still burning with questions, she knew they would have to wait. She had gotten more than sh
e expected from him already. In spite of his words, she sensed he didn’t enjoy his dark reign as much as he claimed.

  Several moments later, she knew by the evenness of his breathing he’d fallen asleep. One hand still buried in his hair, she leaned her head back against the tree and drifted to sleep only to awaken a short time later to Chand shifting restlessly.

  She jumped, her heart pounding, and glanced at him. His eyes were tightly closed and his lips drawn back over his fangs in a fierce snarl.

  “Chand.” She shook him and he snapped awake, grasping her shoulders and pinning her so hard to the tree that she winced. “My Lord, you’re hurting me.”

  The rage faded from his eyes and he loosened his hold. A pulse beat rapidly in the hollow of his throat and a muscle tightened in his jaw before he stood and strode away.

  Tamanna hurried after him, but he spun, his expression enraged. “Leave me at peace, woman!”

  “But --”

  “I said leave me.” He hissed and pounced at her, his teeth snapping half an inch from her throat.

  Gasping, Tamanna stood, frozen, and watched him disappear into the temple.

  * * *

  His heart pounding and head spinning with thoughts and emotions he wished he could ignore, Chand tore through the temple and down to the dungeons. Inside the room with the marble altar where, each year, the priests would perform the summoning ritual, Chand slammed the door shut. He stood, panting, his fists clenched.

  When he was away from the netherworld, it was the last thing he wanted to think or talk about. Tamanna had been persistent in her questions and rather than admit to any weakness by telling her he didn’t want to speak of it, he had described it to her. That conversation had inspired his nightmare. In it, his week with her was over and he was sinking into the dark waters of the netherworld. His godlike power waned and he was mortal, vulnerable. The hellish souls tore him apart, using their ragged teeth to strip his flesh from the bone.