She moaned, her breath unsteady from her weeping. Her small hands tugged his hair free from the tie, then raked through the long, loose locks and clung to it, as to a lifeline. His scalp felt shivery with excitement. Who could have guessed that his hair would be an erogenous zone? 'Twas something Venus had ne'er discovered. But yea, she had never tried to please him. His pleasure was simply a byproduct, an afterthought. Mars forced all thoughts of Venus from his mind, to concentrate more fully on his beloved's need.
Once again he tugged her man's clothing lower, guiding first one long leg free, and then the other. She winced as her bare, battered bottom touched the cool satin sheets, and for a moment Mars regretted that he'd had to punish her so severely. He rolled her onto her stomach and began to kiss each bruise. There were a fair lot of them. She moaned once, and he feared he'd kissed too hard, but then she moaned again, and tried to part her legs. Mars let her roll onto her back, so he could better kiss that women's part that was fair begging to be kissed.
Larissa gasped, her entire body shaking with release, and he was just getting started. His lips tugged in a satisfied smile. The woman loved him. She may not realize it yet, but her soul belonged to him. He let her float a moment on the waves of her pleasure before he returned to pleasuring her again. Twice more she climbed and fell that precious precipice. The woman was fair famished for him. He was hard with need, and crazy from wanting her, but yet he held himself back. He did not wish to scare her with the size of his need.
But the little vixen had a mind of her own. Her slender fingers boldly grasped his man part and began their own seduction. Now it was his turn to groan, and nearly shame himself with his lost control. Larissa laughed, a light, sensual sound. Her legs parted and she tugged him to mount her. Mars needed no further encouragement, yet still he hesitated.
"I want you," she whispered.
"Yea, dear one. I can see. But it has been so long for me. I have no wish to harm thee."
"That's an odd thing to say, after blistering my bottom just moments ago."
"You had that coming, and you know it, darling."
"So take me. Now. I want this!"
She wrapped her long legs around his hips then, and squeezed. She wiggled her hips, grinding against his pelvis. Mars let out a roar, and plunged into her honeyed depths. The woman did not even wince, though he sank himself deep within her. Instead she bit his ear. She raked her fingers across his back. And she opened herself to him wholly.
Mars had wanted to draw it out. He had hoped to make this evening last half of forever, but all too soon he was thrusting furiously, rutting with the wench like the animal he was. He grimaced, struggling to rein back, but Larissa tightened around him and screamed. Yea, screamed. Then her tight opening spasmed again. She had climbed higher than ever before, and the orgasm went on and on. Mars exploded within her before she finished. He collapsed on top of her. His bed comforted her and kept him from suffocating her, wrapping them both in soft down and silk.
Mars could no more move off her than he could command the mountains get up and walk away. He lay there, utterly spend and completely amazed. He sensed his seed spread inside her, but something blocked it from completing its course. He spread his palm across her belly. Yea, something inside her was not quite right. He felt a moment of distress that his mortal lover was somehow less than perfect, but with a mere thought he healed her brokenness inside. His seed found her precious core and took root. He grinned a very satisfied grin.
'Twould be a daughter, this one. A blessed little girl with her mother's eyes of blueberry blue, and peaches and cream complexion. She would have Mars's black hair though, and undoubtedly his temper. His mother would be so surprised when he asked her for guidance in how to raise such a child! Suddenly, he wanted nothing more of war, but only to return to his simple life in the fields. To provide a verdant home for his daughter and future children.
He smelled the bitter tang of salt, and bent to kiss the tear that leaked from Larissa's eyes. "What is it, my dear one? Stupid blockhead that I am, did I harm you? I beg thee forgiveness!"
"No, it's not that, Marco. It's just this. This was wonderful. Perfect, even. I've never known it could be like this. I wish I had met you first - a long time ago. Back when I could still believe in fairy tales."
"Believe this, Larissa. Believe this!" He bent to kiss her again, first on each tear that trailed down her face. Then on her delicate collarbone, up her neck, behind each ear, and finally upon her full, lush lips. He kissed her tenderly, touching each breast at though it were made of glass, afraid that his large fingers would leave bruises if he weren't careful. He touched her everywhere, and before the night was spent, he made love to her again and again, until they were both fair exhausted. On his last coherent thought, he returned them to her bedchamber, lest she wake up first and be frightened by his palace.
Larissa awoke before him, although she could not move for the heavy arm that held her prisoner. She felt sore all over, yet strangely satisfied. Her bottom was no doubt purple from the spanking. Her thighs felt chaffed from the evening of ardent love-making. That's what it had been - love-making. Not sex. Nothing that beautiful could be cheapened by that crass three-letter word. All she'd ever shared with her former boyfriends had been sex. But what Marco had shown her was almost holy in its simplicity. He truly believed he was in love with her, and she believed him. There was not a grain of doubt in her mind. But he terrified her. Maybe he was insane. Maybe he was just different, because of his foreign roots. But he was overwhelming her, suffocating her. This couldn't last, this incredible sex and overwhelming love. Better to leave now, and cherish the memories of that one incredible evening, than to lose herself in the intensity of his love for her. Or to find out that he really had escaped from a home somewhere, and had to be committed.
How could she leave him? He seemed to know what she was thinking sometimes. And now that he had her, he would never let her go. Of that, she was certain. And she just couldn't handle any more spankings. Not for a long, long, long time! No, she'd have to agree with him this morning. To everything he said. And she'd have to convince him she meant everything. She would even have to tell him how much she loved him, too. That wouldn't be hard; she'd only have to speak the truth.
If only she could stay with him! Maybe it would work out all right after all? For one magical moment, she let herself believe that. But then she remembered his solemn promise, and that bit about wanting kids. A half dozen at least. She touched her flat abdomen, and for the first time in her life, she honestly regretted her actions. There would be no children between them. When he discovered what she'd done, would he be furious? Would he spank her again? Would he ever stop spanking her? And eventually, he'd hate her.
So she would agree with him, but eventually, he'd have to leave her alone. And then she could make her move.
"Ah, good morning, my dear heart," Marco cooed. His breath was hot and sweet against her forehead. Little shivers ran up her spine. Her heart was already breaking - it couldn't hurt to make love just once more?
"Is there someone you wish to invite to our nuptials, Larissa?"
"Huh?"
Marco chuckled. "Hast ye not been listening? Surely you cannot doubt after last night that we belong together. We shall be wed before midday, or,"
"No!" Larissa gasped. Her bottom clenched in anticipation of what was sure to follow, but she quickly back-pedaled. "I mean, not today, Marco. We couldn't possibly get everything organized so quickly!"
"Very well," he said with a long-suffering sigh. "Tomorrow, then. And I'll not take any answer other than "yes"."
"All right. Tomorrow."
His arm tightened around her, and he kissed the top of her head. "We could be wed at Olympus, but 'twould bring a great crowd, for certain. Gawkers mostly, nitwits, and meddlesome nymphs. Not a friend among them. Is there a place that has special meaning for you?"
Larissa considered it for a few moments. She'd never really thought about getting married. H
er exes weren't marriageable material. But if she really were going to marry Marco, where would she imagine the ceremony? He just didn't seem like the type to wear a white tux and stand in front of preacher while repeating the age-old wedding vows.
But what about a garden somewhere? And maybe they could say their own vows. If she got a justice of the peace, that would be allowed. But they were booked months in advance. A spur-of-the-moment wedding would never work. "We just can't do it that fast, Marco," she said sadly. "There's the wedding license, and flowers to order, and you have to have reservations for the place - whether you chose the gardens or a banquet hall. And a dress - I don't have a dress."
"These are but trivialities, darling. Let me take care of them all. Just ask, and it shall be done according to your wishes." He kissed her again, this time on the lips. And for a magical moment, Larissa almost believed him.
"Fine. Then, I'd love to be wed outside. At sunset, standing on a mountain top. I'd like Sally to stand with me, and I'd like Tom to give me away. I'd like your son to be a part of it, too, even though we've never met. But it would be nice to meet him, and to know that we have his blessing. Your parents could come, too. I guess that's all. I'd rather keep it small, too. Better a half dozen good friends, than a crowd of imitation well-wishers."
"Done!"
She closed her eyes, only half listening to him as he prattled on about where they would live, and how he would change, now that they were to be wed. She hoped he wouldn't change too much - for she had fallen in love with him as he was. He talked about a little farm on the outskirts of some little town with a foreign name. She guessed it was in Greece somewhere, but on the main land, not one of the touristy islands. He talked about raising fields of wheat, maize, and barley, and perhaps a few sheep. She tried to imagine him on a John Deere tractor, but the image just wouldn't come. It was easier to see him in a bar fight on Saturday night. Or making love to her until noon. Every day. Briefly, she wondered how he was set, financially. He never seemed to need anything. Except her. Tears pricked her eyes at how hurt he would be when he realized she'd run away. But he'd get over it. And who knew? If he were as crazy as she believed, maybe he wouldn't even remember her in a day or two.
"Shall I take you to Olympus, my dear one?" he said at last.
Larissa shook herself, for she had not been listening to him again. All his pretty plans were too depressing. "Uh, no, not today," she stuttered.
His gaze darkened, and he looked like he might work up to a rage with little provocation. She felt a tremor down her spine to sting her already sore bottom. She had to do anything to assuage his temper, before he put her over his knee again. "I have to go to work," she said quietly.
"No wife of mine has need of employment," he growled.
"But we aren't married yet. And Tom is depending on me. I have to give him a two-week notice, so he'll have time to replace me."
"He could not replace you, if he had a thousand days to look."
"That's sweet," she said, patting his cheek.
"Nay," he grumbled. "There's not an ounce of sweetness in me."
"Well, you can grumble and growl all you want, but I think you're very sweet. The way you care for me and want to protect me. Totally unnecessary and archaic, and, well - sweet."
Marco chuckled, a deep, surprising sound rumbling up from the depths of his broad chest. Larissa twined her fingers through the dark hair covering his broad chest, and kissed him again. He caught her hands before they could slip to regions further south.
"'Tis time to arise, my darling, for there is much to do. I will permit thee to return to your diner for the day, and this day only. I shall meet you there at sunset, that we may share the evening meal together."
"Don't you know it's supposed to be bad luck to see the bride the night before the wedding?"
"'Tis nonsense."
"I suppose," she said, with a great long sigh to match the one he had uttered earlier.
Marco rolled on top of her, pinning her wrists easily, and rubbing his stubbled chin against her cheek. "Ye are not growing tired of me already, are ye, heartless wench?"
"No! Marco! Don't do that! You'll make my skin rough and bruised for the wedding!"
He kissed her where he'd scratched her, then sprung to his feet. "Arise, precious! We've much to do - but in two days' time when we begin our life together, we shall stay in bed as long as ye desire. For a month, or more, if ye wish."
Larissa forced a bright smile, admiring the view as Marco strode into the bathroom in his glorious all-together. She joined him in the shower, making a memory of each little touch, as he washed her back, and massaged the shampoo through her scalp while kissing her senseless. Then he towel-dried her, another process that took far longer than necessary, for everywhere he found a drop of water, he planted a kiss. Even after she managed to get dressed for work, Marco still insisted on escorting her to the diner.
"Until tonight," he promised.
"Yes, Marco." She waved at him, as he gave her a disarming smile, then turned and walked away.
Sally put her arm around Larissa. "Oh, that was lovely! I'm so happy for you! I just knew that you'd meet a nice guy someday."
Larissa bit her lip to keep it from trembling, but the tears she'd held back for hours could no longer be contained. Sally gasped, ushering Larissa into the restroom.
"What is it? What's wrong? Did he hurt you? Oh, honey, talk to me!"
Larissa shook her head, grabbing the tissues Sally offered as she blew her nose. "I don't know," she sobbed. "It's just - too much! He scares me. I mean, he's too much. We only just met, and he's insisting we get married!"
"That's... uh, sweet," Sally said without much conviction.
"Tomorrow!"
"Tomorrow?"
"Yes! Tomorrow!"
"What's the rush?"
Larissa shook her head again. "I can't. I just - can't. He's swallowing me up, and I feel like there's not going to be any "me" left. But he knows where I live, and where I work. I have to get away!"
"You could report him to the police," Sally suggested.
"For what? Rescuing me from four thugs? Escorting me home, wanting to protect me? Right! The police can't do anything, not even for women who really are being abused."
"You have to go," Sally concluded. "Right now."
"But, I promised I'd work for you tomorrow."
"Don't worry about it. Jeffrey will understand. Do you have any money?"
"Not on me. And I'm afraid to go to the bank. What if he's watching?"
"Here. Take this - it's all I have right now. Wear my coat, and get on a bus - it's more anonymous than a cab. Take it anywhere - just get away. But - call me and let me know when you get somewhere, okay?"
"He'll be here tonight, Sally. He wanted to pick me up after work."
"Don't worry about it. What can he do to me? I'll call Jeffrey and ask him to meet me here. Now Go!"
Tom yanked open the restroom door. His expression was dark, but in one hand he held Sally's coat, and in the other, a wad of bills. "Take care of yourself, Larissa," he grumbled.
Larissa didn't know what to say. She hugged Tom, and kissed his cheek. "If I could have chosen my father, I would have picked you," she whispered.
He grunted, blinking his eyes quickly as though onion juice were stinging them. Then he whirled around and marched back into his kitchen.
Sally helped Larissa into her coat, tugging on the blue knit hat, and wrapping the matching scarf up around Larissa's face.
"It's not that cold out today," Larissa said, attempting to laugh in spite of the lump lodged in her throat.
"You just keep your face covered until you are far away. Oh, I'm going to miss you! But let me know where you are, and Jeffrey and I - we'll come see you. Soon!"
Larissa hugged her friend close. She couldn't say another word, but there was really nothing more to say. She gazed into Sally's big brown eyes now filled with compassion. Then with a nod, she left.
Gray clou
ds had rolled in front of the sun, as though even the weather could not bear to be cheerful. Larissa walked away from the diner, away from her apartment. At each streetlight, she recalled how Marco put himself between her and the traffic. She smiled wistfully, brushing away her last tear. She couldn't fall apart now. She had to look anonymous, draw the least amount of attention to herself. She couldn't do that if she looked like a victim. She stood taller, straightened her shoulders, and walked briskly.
Cupid's Wager Page 6
