by LJ Vickery
So, forget it. If he was getting cold feet, she wasn’t going to let him back out now. No way could she live without him. She wondered if the ceremony would “take” if his friends bound and dragged him to the altar.
“Um. Are you going to ask me in?” He looked decidedly uncomfortable.
“Of course.” She swept back from the door and issued him an invitation with her hand. He entered and began to pace.
Verrie couldn’t stand it. She strode toward him, put a hand to his chest and halted his progress. “What is it?” she asked.
He took her forearms in a tight grasp. She could feel tremors. This was not good. “Verrie, there’s something I haven’t told you.”
Oh my gods. Could he have another wife? Wives? Was he gay? Terminally ill? Verrie went through a long, rapid list and dismissed them all. She was just going to have to pry it out of him.
“Sit. Right now and tell me.” She pushed him onto the bed. He went without a fight. “We have a delicate timetable here, so you better spill,” she told him, combating her fears with practicality.
“I know. And I should have told you this before.” He ran a hand through his hair which lay in messy, red tangles. Clearly, he’d been worrying for a while.
“This might be a deal breaker for you.” His troubled eyes met hers.
A little of Verrie’s chest pain eased. Okay. He wasn’t the one putting a stop to things. He thought she might.
“Just spit it out, love.” The use of the endearment clearly undid him. He dropped from the bed to his knees, landing at her feet to hug her around the legs.
“I killed my family,” he cried out.
Verrie went blank. It was the last thing she expected to hear from him.
“Excuse me?” she said confusedly.
“Well…I would have killed them if they’d been human,” he repeated. “Which is the same thing as killing them. And that’s why I was relegated to hell.”
She quickly regained her equilibrium. Clearly, it wasn’t all cut and dried like he’d just laid it out. He wouldn’t have been allowed a second chance by Nergal and company if he was a cold-hearted murderer. Nor would this wonderful group of gods embrace him as a brother if he had committed such a heinous crime.
“Why don’t we sit back here on your bed, and I’ll try to explain.” His pained expression tore at her heart.
Verrie drew Dumuzi up from the floor and settled them both on the mattress. Pulling him close to her side, she waited for him to begin.
“It was 17 AD.”―Verrie had heard that date before―“I had turned into my swamp monster, but this time, I wasn’t able to get myself away from home like I always had before.”
His eyes focused on the wall opposite them, and Verrie knew he was seeing back in time.
“Along with the anger and destruction I display now when the change takes over, in the early days, my episodes included deluging any area surrounding me. I turned land to swamp.”
Okay. That made sense. He was god of swamps and vegetation after all. She patted his hand, and he continued.
“That particular day, my mother, my father, and my sister were in the house with me when I changed. Because of me being out of control, our home got sucked underground, under a deep layer of mud.”
Verrie found herself holding her breath. She could almost feel the wetness that would have come up over his loved ones’ noses, smothering them. She took a deep haul of air into her lungs, shaking it off. She needed to keep listening.
“Of course, my family are gods. And as you’ve been made aware, only complete blood-loss over a prolonged period, total incineration, or irreparable harm to our amulets can kill us. Which means my family didn’t die, but they were really dirty. And angry. And worried enough for their future, they had me sentenced and sent to hell.”
Verrie was stunned. She sat perfectly still, digesting what Dumuzi had said. His broken voice brought her back to awareness.
“I completely understand if you want to call things off. I never want to do anything that will harm you or Sienna. But I can’t give you that. I…”
Verrie cut him off. She was so angry she could barely get the words out. “Of all the fucked up, bitchy things a family could do to you.” she railed. “How dare they?”
She saw Muze shake his head, clearly not understanding, but Verrie was on a roll.
“They sent their own child to hell…for a condition you had no control over? Hadn’t they heard of doctors…of…of…exorcisms…or whatever the hell else was used at that time, for gods’ sake? Ooh,” Verrie fumed. “Are they still alive and well somewhere?”
Dumuzi nodded, wide-eyed.
“Well then, just wait ‘til I meet them. They’ll get a piece of my mind. Send you to hell, indeed. They are so not welcome to meet their grandchildren when we have them.”
“Grandchildren?” Dumuzi’s voice sounded thin but hopeful.
“Of course,” Verrie came out of her tirade and blinked. “You didn’t think I could look at the cute little godlings around here and not want one of our own, did you?”
“You mean…us…kids…you’ll still mate with me? Even after what I’ve told you?”
Verrie took Muze’s face between her hands and put a very succinct kiss on his mouth.
“Damn right, my love. You would never, ever hurt me or Sienna. I know that," she told him. “And if you do start to get out of hand―which I seriously doubt―first line of defense, Archie, will alert us. And if that isn’t enough, the gods and goddesses around here will keep you in order.”
She beamed into his astonished face and couldn’t resist teasing. “And if all of that doesn’t work,” she tipped closer and gave his earlobe a sharp nip. “I’ll be a goddess, remember? And I’ll kick your sorry ass…after I make sure―with whatever means I have at hand―it’s a lovely shade of red.”
Bingo. Dumuzi’s mind was off his confession and on to bigger and better things as evidenced by the impressive tent lifting his loincloth. Verrie reached a hand under and gave his equipment a squeeze. Yes. These gods knew how to dress down, commando style.
“Now, go.” Verrie shooed him off the bed. “We don’t want to keep our friends waiting. And the sooner we finish with this amulet bullshit, the quicker we can get down to more interesting things.” She looked at his twitching loincloth again.
“Have I told you I love you?” Dumuzi grinned―even if it was a toothy, growly, swamp-monstery kind of smile―letting all his feelings show in his eyes.
“Yes, you have.” She got up and gave him a push in the direction of the door. “And I expect you to show me just how much, later.”
“It’s a date.” He resisted her shove long enough to pull her into his arms and lay a heavy-duty kiss on her mouth, one that shook her down to her bare feet. Verrie nearly swooned. Hell, yeah.
Feeling an incredible tingle throughout her body with his kiss, she marveled at what the goddesses told her. Apparently, directly after the amulet placement, she’d be more lustful than she’d ever been before…in her life. Was that fucking possible? As it was, from Muze’s kiss alone, she was going to have to mop up before she went downstairs.
The door clicked behind her god as he finally departed. Verrie did her finals in the bathroom before being met outside the door by a group of gleeful females. Her hands shook. It was time. The gaggle made its way to the basement—all the way past the door with the sign-up sheet outside she’d yet to explore, past Matthew who gallantly told her how beautiful she looked, and down a long corridor which seemed to slant deeper into the earth. When she reached their destination, her breath caught.
The room was beyond description. It exuded an ancient aura that couldn’t be real—the house had been built only hundreds of years before, not thousands—and yet Verrie felt she’d been transported back to what she imagined resembled an ancient Mesopotamian temple.
There were candles everywhere and writing on the walls in unrecognizable script. Carvings had been made on the floor, the altar, and s
tone artifacts displayed on columns around the sides of the room. She thought she spied a few that resembled some of the gods…yes…there was Enlil, for sure.
Verrie was led to the front where an altar stone had been raised at a slant, and while the assemblage sighed, she was gently put into place with her back against its coldness. Once she was alone and the women sat in their seats, she heard a soft chanting coming from outside the room. Her eyes focused on the doorway, and one by one the gods—decked in the finest of raiments set off by shining gold armbands and torques—moved down the aisle and into the room.
When the group paused at the altar, Dumuzi came forward and positioned himself next to her, putting his back to the other half of the slab. He picked up her hand and kissed it. The chanting ceased, and Marduk looked suddenly befuddled.
“Uh, Muze? Who did you pick as best man?”
There was no hesitation. “I want Shamash should do the honors,” he said in a strong, clear voice. “He made it possible for me to take this lovely woman as my Chosen.”
Shamash stepped forward and took a lethal-looking knife from Marduk’s outstretched hand. “It will be my honor,” the cat god replied reverently.
The room seemed to hold its breath as the first slice was made in Dumuzi’s flesh. The skin of his shoulder was peeled back, and Sham made short work of the muscle layer that flexed below. Verrie could feel Muze flinch and watched as a twist of leather was put between his teeth which he bit with ferocity. She found a similar one being urged upon her, and took it in her mouth, hoping when her time came to undergo Dani’s knife, she would be as brave as her fine god.
Dumuzi held her gaze as the doctor began, making similar cuts in Verrie’s shoulder. She couldn’t help it. Her eyes filled with tears at the fiery pain that tore through her, but as soon as the half amulet was taken from Dumuzi and placed in her body, a different kind of burning took hold.
Verrie’s hand squeezed her mate’s, and their fingers re-twined. Just that small amount of stimulation had her pussy clenching with need. She sensed her shoulder accepting Muze into her life and closing up. Somewhere outside of her, she heard cheering.
The transfer had clearly been a success, but she hadn’t been worried. All she could feel was the heat of Dumuzi as he pressed into her side. He lifted their combined hands and kissed her knuckles, brushing over one of her nipples on the way up.
Verrie cried out.
The explosion between her legs came on fast and hard, the spasms overtaking her before she even knew what hit. The orgasm had been so strong, it sapped the energy from her legs. She had to bite the leather hard so she wouldn’t scream. Oh my gods. Her eyes felt like they were rolling back in her head. Had she just had the most incredible climax of her life from that small touch to her nipple? In front of all of these people?
When her head stopped spinning, she heard their voices.
“Time to clear out everybody, unless we want a different kind of show.” It was Candy’s smart mouth in the doorway, ushering everyone clear. “Let’s go folks. Move it or risk an x-rated documentary on the mating habits of immortals.”
At that point, Verrie ceased to care. She trusted Candy would clear the room. She turned to her mate and pressed herself up against him where he stood, back still to the rock.
She slithered down his body, spitting the leather out on the way, lifting his loincloth, and pressing her cheek to his hard shaft. “Do you have any last words,” she said huskily, “because I’m about to suck you dry.”
Dumuzi groaned and lost his mouthpiece. “How about a promise that once you’re through, I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name.”
“I’ll go with that,” Verrie said, opening her lips and sliding them over the velvet soft head of his luscious pink cock.
She didn’t hesitate. His length went down her throat, and she exerted a pressure on his cock she didn’t know was possible. If her mouth wasn’t full, she would have smiled. Ah. Goddess lips. Stronger and more able to accommodate her well-hung husband. She groaned around his girth. Gods, he tasted good. She worked up his length, then swiped a saucy tongue over the moisture seeping from his tip. Heavenly. She closed her eyes and savored. When he would have moved, she pushed him back. Oh, no. She was in charge here…and this immortal strength thing was awesome.
“Stay right there,” she growled and lowered her mouth again.
Within seconds he found a rhythm that had him rocking his hips, moving gently in and out of her mouth.
She popped loose for a second. “Don’t hold back,” she gasped, taking him fully down her throat again.
That’s when he let go of his restraint. Both hands came up behind her head, one threading through her hair as he fucked her mouth, thrusting into it with abandon.
Yes. Verrie had always loved giving blow-jobs, but now her enhanced skills brought the experience to a whole new level. She could taste, she could feel, and her tongue was everywhere as he sought his release.
When it finally came, her man roared as the eruption moved up from his balls, past her sensitive lips, to burst forth from his cock into her throat. She swallowed it all, licking him, squeezing him for every last drop. When she finished, he put his hands under her armpits and raised her to her feet.
“That was…indescribable,” he told her, dipping to her mouth. Verrie felt so naughty as he tasted himself on her tongue. It fueled more of her own wetness which had spread until she was slick with wanting.
“I can feel your pussy without touching,” Dumuzi told her, incredulously. “I was told the connection between us would be infinite.”
Verrie could barely nod her head. That’s why the blow-job had been so good. She’d been feeling it right along with Muze.
“Now we’re going to see what fucking is like,” he promised, placing his hands under her ass and hiking her up high. He spun them around and placed Verrie’s back against the altar. Her linen rucked up around her waist. “Gotta love these robes,” he panted. Without preamble, he surged into her waiting cunt.
Verrie screamed, “Yes.” She wrapped her legs around him as tightly as she could, linking her ankles behind his back, driving her heels into his ass. “Fuck me, Muze,” she wailed.
And he obliged.
He became a pile-driver, pistoning into her depths, bending his knees and tilting his prick up inside to hit her hot spot, over and over again. It felt so good, so strong, so commanding. And it certainly didn’t take long. Verrie found herself reaching for the peak, tensing every muscle inside herself until that final punch, that pinnacle. She shouted her release and clutched his cock with her inner muscles until she was sure he’d be rendered immobile. But his god strength carried him on to a half dozen more thrusts, until he too attained that ultimate height and emptied into her with long, hard spurts.
They stood there afterward, wrapped around each other, dazed. Muze rested his forehead on hers until his breathing came back under control.
“Wow”
“Double wow,” Verrie agreed. She looked up into his eyes and saw laughter lurking just below the surface.
“What?”
Muze let his monster smile out. “Wanna do it again?”
Epilogue
The banquet long over and travel having taken place, the group of gods moved silently through the jungle. At the last minute, before leaving the compound, Marduk had taken pity on Matthew and brought him along under penalty of much pain if the god didn’t agree to stay with them. They’d added to their party minutes ago, meeting up with Marla and Jeremiah.
Oddly, Matthew had integrated himself into the group so well, any outsider looking on would never know he was―or had once been―the enemy.
Dumuzi noticed Dagon stayed next to Bel’s mate in an almost protective manner. Well, the two of them had worked together at one time.
His mind came back to present when Marduk rendering a warning. We’re almost upon them.
All Muze’s concentration was focused, just like everyone else’s, on finding Be
l’s energy and extracting her without injury. Riley and Dorian had said the goddess was weak, but they were hoping she still had enough fight in her to advocate for herself if the need arose.
All right, Nergal. Marduk instructed. Do your thing.
The king stepped forward and raised his hands toward the barrier in front of them. Two runes, one on his forearm and the other on his chest began to glow…the same two, Muze noted, that had glowed in hell when they entered the demon’s lair. Clearly, Ridhwan had been responsible for both as they contained this, his telltale signature.
Within seconds the shields were down. The rescue party stormed across the fallen barrier and into the clearing to be met inside by…nothing.
Well, almost nothing.
There were a number of cowering women, children, and old men hunkered closely in the center of the settlement. But that was all.
No guards, no Ridhwan…and no Bel.
The camp had been close to abandoned, recently and hastily.
The adrenaline running through the group dropped to render them speechless.
All except Matthew, who refused to believe his eyes. “Noooo,” his anguished cry split the dusk.
The rest of the immortals quietly regrouped to discuss their next move.
* * *
[SE1]Would she say urinating or peeing?
