Ambrosia Lane 1-3: Saranna DeWylde

by Desperate Housewives of Olympus

  He maneuvered her, his big hands grasping her hips to pull her body away from his and then to ease her down the length of his cock.

  “Oh my gods,” she whispered, her breath warm against his ear as he filled her.

  Her nails dug into his back and he was strangely proud of any stripes he’d wear—they’d be well-earned.

  He pushed up into her again and again, the feeling better than ambrosia, better than anything Olympus had to offer him.

  “More,” she demanded.

  “All you can take,” he swore.

  She was the beginning, she was the end. She was everything.

  “Don’t hold back. You can’t hurt me.”

  He hadn’t realized he’d been holding back until she mentioned it. Sometimes, she knew him better than he knew himself. She wasn’t afraid of his strength. There was a release all its own in that knowledge. Almost like removing chains he hadn’t known he was wearing.

  Aphrodite had never been afraid of him, but he’d always felt like she was something to admire and to be gentle with—like spun glass.

  Morrigan was stronger, more powerful—he’d never held back with her before. Like when they sparred together, he let her feel the full force of his power and she was still his match in every way. So why had he thought the bedroom—or in this case, the living room—would be any different?

  He slammed her hard against the wall, driving up into her with all the force she demanded. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders and then she laughed. It was a full-bodied sound of genuine joy.

  Her power met his head on and he found himself slammed against the far wall, and all the while she was riding his cock.

  This was ever so much better than sparring. It was more than matching skills, somehow this both blended their strength and power while pitting them against each other. Sex with her was like a war, but both of them won.

  Ares thought it couldn’t get any more intense, but he was wrong. When she pulled back from him, her hands on his body gentle—the way she cupped his face and touched her forehead to his and looked into his eyes while they climbed each rung to pleasure.

  It was more intimate than anything he’d ever done with anyone else. It pushed them both higher and harder than Ares had been prepared to go.

  He realized then that she could see him. She could see everything beneath his skin he thought he’d been hiding from her. Every fault, every single thing about himself that was unworthy of her. She saw him and she didn’t look away, she didn’t push him away.

  Because she loved him.

  Being shot with a cannon would’ve hurt less.

  He’d never been so singularly aware of his own failings than this moment, seeing himself in her eyes. Ares wanted to run away from her, from himself, he wanted to hide.

  So he did, he closed his eyes and kissed her.

  Morrigan didn’t do anything or say anything to express her disappointment, but he could feel it nonetheless.

  Ares knew he hurt her by shutting her out, but he didn’t know what else to do. Better she see now that he was unlovable than invest years and years in him like Aphrodite had.

  The logical part of his brain said that she’d already invested years and years in him and still found him worthy. The only thing that had changed between them was sharing their bodies and the pleasure to be found there.

  No, that was a lie. So much more had changed. Sharing flesh had never been intimate. Not until Morrigan.

  “Don’t love me,” he whispered on a ragged breath.

  Morrigan, Goddess of Hearth and War, had the most devastating weapon in her arsenal. It was deadlier than any nuclear bomb, death ray, or even the Big Bang.

  With her breath sweet on his lips, she said, “I can’t help it. I do.”

  His arms tightened around her and he was swept away in the undertow, drowning in her just as he’d wished. It was like dying and being reborn, only to die again after the ecstasy had ebbed. Morrigan was the tide, and he was nothing but a bit of flotsam on the waves.

  She hadn’t orgasmed yet, so he set about the task with a singular intensity, but she stopped him. “You’re not here with me anymore. Not really. If I wanted mechanical assistance, I could have that by myself.”

  Her words were soft, but their impact could’ve knocked him down dead.

  “Let me do this for you. Don’t ask me to fail you in the bedroom, too.”

  “Fail me? What are you talking about, Ares?”

  “I have to live up to it if you love me, and I won’t.” He shook his head slowly. “I can’t. I’m going to fail you, so at least let me make you come. That, I can do. That, I’m good at.”

  The pain in her eyes wasn’t something he’d ever forget. “You think I don’t know who you are?”

  “This.” He nodded. “This is why you need someone to save you. You have terrible taste in men.” He meant to make it a joke, but it fell flat.

  “Save me?” Her incredulity was a splash of cold water in his face. “Motherfucker, I’m no damsel. I’m the dragon. I don’t need saving.” She shoved him away from her and stood naked before him in all her goddess glory. “Look, I get that you’re afraid. I am, too.” Morrigan looked up at the ceiling as if the answers were written there, but seeming not to find any assistance looked back at him. “But there’s no use in being afraid of something that’s already happened. Why is love so scary? We’ve told each other ‘I love you’ a hundred thousand times. Why can’t you say it now?” She closed her eyes. “Unless it’s because you don’t.”

  “I…” Ares knew the right thing to say here was that he loved her, but he wasn’t in love with her. This was what Corvinus meant by putting her first. She’d never be happy with him. Only his traitorous tongue wouldn’t obey him. “I can’t do this.”

  “What fresh hell?” Corvinus squawked as he flew through the door. “I have to bleach my eyes.”

  “Not now!” Morrigan ordered.

  “We’ve got a thing. We have to go. Poseidon will tell you all about it tomorrow.”

  “Poseidon?” Morrigan shook her head. “I don’t understand what’s happening here.”

  “Your date with my brother. You need to keep it.” He’d never said words that cut him deeper than those.

  “I need to do whatever it is I feel like doing.” She snapped her fingers and was dressed. “And what I feel like doing is getting a pedicure. Corvinus, let’s go to Jean Pierre’s. I’ll get your wings conditioned.”

  “I have a thing.” He jerked his head toward Ares. “It’s important.”

  Morrigan lifted her chin. “Fine. You two go out and get your dicks wet. I’ll go hang out with Aphrodite and Hera. You two will be lucky if I talk to either one of you for the rest of this century.” She closed her eyes. “That’s what you want anyway, isn’t it, Ares? To be free from any expectations or demands from me? Well, you’ve got it. You’re just as free as you’ve always been to drown your sorrows in ambrosia and bodies that don’t matter to you.”

  “Morri—” He didn’t know what to say, but he couldn’t leave her like this.

  “Get. Out.”

  He stood there, dumbly. Unmoving and silent.

  “For fuck’s sake. You know I’m not going to be hurt and angry forever. I’ll get over it, but I don’t want to look at you right now.”

  Corvinus fluttered over to her shoulder, but she blocked his landing. “You too, traitor. Go away.”

  Corvinus made two loops around the room before settling on Ares’ shoulder. “You’re going to fix this,” he hissed in his ear.

  “Morri—” he said again.

  “I understand how you made Aphrodite crazy. I really do. I want to burn down cities now. I never thought I was that kind of goddess.” Her voice dropped an octave. “I didn’t think I’d have to draw you a picture, but here goes. In case it wasn’t obvious, you hurt me, Ares. You stabbed me in the fucking heart with your dick. Being sorry fixes nothing. Go away, and I’ll fix myself. I’ll be my own bandaid, I have
a plan, because I knew this would happen.” She nodded slowly. “And I let myself fall off the cliff anyway. Aphrodite swore you’d catch me, but I knew better.”

  She flung a black bolt of lightning at them haphazardly, shooing them away as if they’d broken a vase instead of her heart.

  14

  MORRI

  A broken heart made her adventurous. She took herself to Ambrosia Lane and to the renowned Jean Pierre’s. He did all the most stylish goddess’s hair.

  Aphrodite, Nyx and Hera were there. No one from her own pantheon, not that she had friends amongst them anyway. She’d ostracized herself by always choosing Ares.

  For a moment, she froze. She didn’t know Hera or Nyx very well. But Aphrodite saw her outside and waved her in. The smile on the other goddess’s face faded.

  “What happened?”

  “I fell by myself.”

  “No, you didn’t. His heart is a little bit like a brick and his brain a blade. He’s spent all this time sharpening the latter on the first. You just have to wait for the brick to get tired of it.” Aphrodite nodded kindly.

  “Yeah, well right now I want to hit him with a brick.” Morrigan flopped in a chair. “He took Corvinus, too. I even offered to get his wings conditioned, but he picked Ares.”

  “That’s a good thing,” Nyx offered helpfully as the man himself, Jean Pierre, worked his fingers through her moonlight strands. “Their rivalry was legendary. Your baby wouldn’t choose him if he didn’t believe it wasn’t best for you. Have patience.”

  “It’s easy for a titan to talk about patience.”

  “Not really. I’m just as impatient as you are. Patience a virtue? One I don’t want. Please.” Nyx snorted.

  Hera laughed. “Seriously. Look, it took my guy a little bit to understand that I loved him and it was okay for him to love me. That he deserved to be loved. I mean, after Persephone left he asked Aphrodite here to rip out his heart. He kept it in a box on his mantle.” Hera shrugged, but then she smiled. “I remember the first time it beat for me. I was holding it in my hands and it was like this frightened little creature playing dead.”

  “I’m sure that Hades will appreciate anything about his person being referred to as ‘a frightened little creature.’” Nyx snickered.

  Morrigan found herself smiling. “So how does this manicure-pedicure thing work? Magick that sucks out my self-loathing through my fingers and toes?”

  Jean Pierre paused. “Yes, yes it does.”

  “Okay, sign me up.”

  Aphrodite reached over and patted her arm. “You’ll feel amazing, really. Corvinus will be sad he missed it.”

  “Traitorous little shit,” Morri grumbled.

  “Don’t judge him too quickly. His aura is always only love for you,” Aphrodite said.

  When she dipped her feet in the hot, bubbling water and invisible hands began massaging her feet and legs, she sighed as the stress and sadness receded. “How did I not know how good this was?”

  “Too much time with Ares, dear. Every woman needs a group of other women who understand them. It’s not just about manicures and beauty rituals. That’s not every woman’s cup of tea and that’s okay. It’s really about the time spent together bonding and building your friendship,” Hera said. “You could do it fly fishing or drinking beers and playing poker.”

  “I’ll confess, I always thought the Jean Pierre’s Ritual to be a bit clichéd.” She bit her lip and looked at Jean Pierre. “Sorry, bro.”

  He waved her off. “You’re here now with that beautiful hair. That’s all that matters.”

  “And we talk about things other than men or shoes?” Morrigan prompted.

  “Duh.” Nyx rolled her eyes. “We could talk about climate change, the need for religion to keep our powers balanced with the humans’ bent toward self-annihilation, or what the book club is reading…”

  “Sometimes we talk about overthrowing a powerbase—” Aphrodite began.

  “Like ending Ra’s empire because he wasn’t caring for his people,” Hera finished.

  “But we do talk about men quite a bit. Mostly, that’s my fault. I’ve been bitching about Ares for the last thousand years. I’m sure they’re sick of him by now.” Aphrodite nodded. “I definitely needed a new hobby.”

  “So you guys definitely don’t want to hear about it from me.” Morri laughed.

  “No, no. Do go on.” Hera waved her hand. “This is new. But I will say I was tempted to throw him in Tartarus for the way he treated Aphrodite.”

  “Now, you live there.” A voice piped up. “And I’d never forgive you for inflicting him on me,” Charon said as he sat down in a chair on the end of the line.

  “Whatever. You’d love it,” Hera teased. “You’d have someone to play Call of Duty with, FuriousGamerGirl.”

  “Hey, you laugh. I’m doing my part to forward women’s equality. It’s great when these misogynist dudes get their ass handed to them by what they think is a twelve year old girl in Texas.”

  “Excuse me?” Morri popped up and glared at him.

  Charon just laughed, the sound like charcoal briquettes rubbing against concrete. “Yeah, I know who you are, CrowQueenofTerror.”

  “You’re a dick. I’d rather I’d been beaten by a twelve-year-old girl instead of a grumpy old man in a cape.”

  “I am not an old man!” Charon sat straight up and the cloak fell back, revealing a young face, with high and sharp cheekbones, clear dark eyes and cupid’s bow of a mouth. “I’m genderfluid, thank you very much.”

  “Apologies.” Morrigan nodded. “But you’re not twelve.”

  “I also use my screen name to catch predators.” Charon laughed. “You’re just mad I kicked your ass.”

  “Yes, yes I am,” Morrigan confessed.

  “You should come down to Styx sometime. We’ll hang out. Have beers. Paint our toenails. Play CoD.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  Morrigan knew that life would go on without Ares. She knew she could survive without him. She knew the pain would fade. These were all things she knew she could do, but they were things she didn’t want to do.

  Except the surviving part—that was something she’d always do and do happily. She liked being alive. She enjoyed existence. Even something as simple as breathing. Morrigan didn’t have to breathe, but she liked it. She loved the scents carried on the air and how they were each attached to some memory she lovingly wrapped and kept. Her existence was a tapestry and she liked following the lines of each thread, even if they led to pain.

  How could she have let herself forget that?

  She let herself forget that she liked flying, she loved the sensation of falling. So what if she landed on her face? Fuck him for refusing to take this adventure with her.

  “You’re awfully quiet now, Morrigan,” Aphrodite noted.

  “She’s envisioning game strategies wherein she actually wins,” Charon offered.

  “You’re right, I am.” Morrigan nodded. “But not like you think. I already won. I jumped. He’s still standing on the cliff looking over the edge wondering where I went.”

  “I’m pretty sure he’s on his face at the bottom. Remember, brick and blade.” Aphrodite nodded.

  “Let’s talk about something besides me.” Morrigan had her revelation, now she wanted to let it simmer on its own. She was done talking about it.

  “Okay, did you hear that Poseidon is unleashing the Kraken?” Hera asked.

  “What?” Morrigan perked.

  “Oh yeah,” she purred. “Someone sparked his wrath. Poseidon is a patient god, a kind god. He’s actually the chillest god around. He doesn’t get angry easily. Usually, when he unleashes Fred, it’s at my ex-husband’s request.” She waved her hand to dismiss the idea. “You know how Zeus is. Quick to rage, quick to smite, forever to forgive.”

  Aphrodite laughed. “This is still about you, isn’t it Morri.”

  “How’s that?” Nyx perked. “Oh, are you dating Poseidon? Do we have a love triang
le?”

  “I have a date with him tomorrow. We’re not technically dating, but I was going to call it off because of all of this with Ares.”

  Nyx laughed. “No, you should definitely go.”

  “That’s not fair to Poseidon,” Morri answered.

  “Oh, sure it is. As long as you’re honest with him.” Hera grinned.

  “Even if I don’t have feelings for him like I do Ares?” Morri asked the group.

  “Honey, you’ve been friends with Ares for your entire life. You’ve had time to build trust, a history, an unbreakable bond. You know Poseidon, but not like you know Ares. Why kill a good thing in its infancy because another good thing is in its death throes?” Nyx said.

  “You didn’t date for an eon after Nod died,” Hera tsked.

  “True, but that also wasn’t the death of a good thing,” Nyx volleyed.

  “True that.” Aphrodite nodded.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Charon growled. “Can you turn off the sun? You know I don’t get that kind of light in Tartarus!”

  Morrigan didn’t know what they were talking about until the door opened and Apollo stepped inside.

  “Sorry, loves. I’m stealing my wife for a picnic and to drive the chariot at dusk.” Apollo smiled at Nyx and the whole room was brighter.

  “Oh hush, Charon. I’m eternal night and his sunshine doesn’t bother me any. You’re just jealous you don’t get to drive the chariot.” Nyx smiled back at her husband.

  “Screw the chariot. Dealing with that damn boat is enough responsibility.” Charon covered their face.

  “You light up the room with your cheer, Charon.” Jean Pierre rolled his eyes, but so obviously adored the ferry captain.

  “I know.” Charon leaned back. “Deep conditioning today. You know how the fires of Tartarus dry out my ends.”

  Jean Pierre tsked again and set to work.

  Invisible hands kept working on Morrigan’s fingers and toes, and she was inclined to let them.

  “Well, my loves. It looks like no Rosa Regale and snacks for me. It seems I have a date.” Nyx never took her eyes off her husband.