Sweet Hell (15 page)

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Chapter 11

Somehow during that time under the willow, they'd collapsed to the grassy ground. Their limbs entwined. Dionysus raked his fingers through her hair. Kissed her cheek, her temple, her jaw line, over and over, treating her as if she were a precious religious relic to be worshipped, revered.

Holding her as no one had ever held her or ever would again.

She had a vague recollection of him saying he loved her, but it seemed so distant it didn't make sense. As if she'd dreamed it.

She must have dreamed it.

How could someone like him love her? A baker from Toronto.

She knew they had to get going, had to find Eurydice, but she was so happy in his arms. And she didn't know how long it would last. What if he just disappeared when they left Hades? What if he had superhero, godly duties to fulfill and never came back to the bakery?

What if this was all just a strange moment in which they were caught up in emotions that might fade as quickly as the writing on her palm?

If that ended up being the case, then
this
was her moment. Possibly her one chance to feel the extraordinary rush of being loved by Dionysus. He wouldn't say no. She was sure of it. God only knew his erection was still hard and pressing up against her thigh.

The blessed man got no relief. It was time to give him some.

"Dionysus,” she whispered, telling herself to be brave, never having been any sort of sexual aggressor before.

"Hmm,” he mumbled, barely moving, seemingly lost, his face buried in her neck.

"Have you forgotten your promise?"

That woke him up. His head darted up. His eyes looked a little dazed, as if she'd startled him out of the beginnings of a sleep. But he blinked a few times and roused himself quickly. “I haven't forgotten anything, trust me."

She slowly got up on her knees and pushed him so that he was leaning back against the trunk of the willow. There were quite shaded by its massive branches. Even if there were any spirits haunting this meadow, she figured they wouldn't be seen by them. And, quite honestly, she didn't care anymore.

Gazing into his surprised eyes, she began to push up the hem of his gorgeous robe, growing more excited with each inch of his exposed thighs. His chest rose and fell with sharp, quick breaths in response.

"What are you doing?” he whispered.

She offered him a small smile, doing her best to look sexy. “What I've been wanting to do since the first time you ordered coffee from me. Since I first laid eyes on you."

Her candid comment silenced him. His jaw shut, and he just watched her, his eyes wide with amazement and long-withheld lust. Keeping her eyes trained on his, she moved the hem right up to his waist and was gratified to see he went commando under that sexy toga.

No chance for padding there.

Nestled between his legs was the most glorious cock she'd ever seen. She'd suspected it would be big, but this was frankly insane. Almost too big, too thick. Would she even be able to wrap her mouth around it? But then it throbbed for her, and she changed her mind.

It was perfect. She couldn't wait to taste him.

She lowered herself, and Dionysus made a strangled noise of carnal agony. Snuggling in between his firm legs, she got comfortable.

And licked.

In her head, she swore. He was that tasty.

Out loud, Dionysus was letting loose a string of curses she barely understood, no doubt in Greek. Then he switched to English, possibly for her benefit. “Ah, fuck. By Hera's fragrant pussy, that feels so good!"

Josie giggled, pleased at his reaction. They might not be together forever, but she could give him this. Maybe it was possible to impress the jaded Greek god with her humble mortal techniques. Dipping her head, she licked him again, swirling her tongue all over the tip of his penis. Sucking him, milking him. Taking him deeper than she ever wanted to take any man.

Wanting him inside her, any which way. Needing him.

Loving him, if only for a moment.

And all the time, he ran his trembling fingers through her hair, telling her how much he loved what she was doing. How she felt so good to him.

As a bead of his essence sprang from his tip, he made a noise and pulled her up. She couldn't help feeling disappointed. “Why did you stop me? I want you to come."

His eyes changed, seeming almost to glow with lusty fervor. Making him look very much like the wild man portrayed in so many of those paintings by the old masters. “Don't worry. I plan to come. But not like this."

He waved his hand in front of her, and her clothing disappeared. Every last stitch of it. Even while trying to figure out how he did it, she spied it lying in a pile a few feet away. And as she felt a shiver of anticipation travel through each limb, he waved his hand again and his clothing disappeared too, only to join hers in the small pile. Even the laurel-leaf wreath had flown from where it had been tangled in his curls.

Josie stared at him, taking him in. She'd imagined him naked. God knew she'd imagined it countless times. But not once in her dreams had he ever looked as fine as he did in reality. Dionysus was long and lean, sculpted as if by an artist's hand. Each muscle undulated with perfection, his arms and legs corded and taut. His abdomen boasting an eight-pack that would make bodybuilders drool. As he moved toward her, she glimpsed the sweetest ass she'd ever had the pleasure to see. Firm and rounded. Perfect for gripping while she wrapped her legs around him.

While she stared at him, agog, he stared back at her as if she were just as pretty as all his goddess friends. Or as wild and raunchy as his drunken maenads of old. As if she were blowing his memories of Ariadne right out of the water. It was unbelievable to see such desire in his eyes.

He reached for her, laid her back down on the ground, and smoothed his hand over her breasts and down to her belly, kneading the flesh there.

Oh man, she wished she'd had a stricter regime of sit ups! Or that she did any exercise at all.

He didn't seem to mind. He whispered to her, “You're the most exquisite thing I've ever seen.” He choked back a breath. “I need you so badly, sweet Josie."

She threw her hands around his strong neck. “Have me, then. Take me. Do whatever you want to me."

He arched a dark brow at her. “Whatever I want?"

"Anything."

And then he smiled at her as if he had a few interesting things in mind.

Dionysus knew one thing for certain. He had to taste her again.

Since he'd pleasured her in The Sinners, running his tongue through the most delicious pussy on earth or in the heavens, he'd been praying for the opportunity to do it again.

If he could only drag himself away from her mouth now.

Her kisses drugged him, as sure as his had drugged so many others through the centuries. Once again, he was amazed at how innocent and new he felt under Josie's hands. As if she wiped his very dirty slate clean. Each time her tongue flicked against his, each time she welcomed his tongue into her mouth, he forgot who he was. Forgot he had a lengthy, sordid past. With each pass of her lips, he felt more and more like those wandering souls in
The Oubliette
.

Bereft of all thoughts and feelings that didn't concern Josie.

She was all he knew. All he ever wanted to know.

He pressed his naked body into hers, feeling the wetness between her legs as it grazed his thigh.

Now
, he thought.
Now.

He slid down her voluptuous frame, stopping only to nuzzle and nip at her sinful breasts for a few, luscious moments. Then he situated himself between the legs spread so willingly, so artfully, for him.

And he ate. Filling himself to the brim with her womanly juices. Drinking her in as eagerly as he'd so often drunk the finest wines he could conjure. After Josie, those wines would taste like swill. Nothing could be as tempting, as satisfying, as the taste of her love for him.

Was it love? He wasn't yet sure.

Her fragile moans spoke of love. The way she writhed her hips underneath him told of love. And the way she'd cried his name upon remembering him, like a forlorn child being reunited with a lost stuffed bear, made him want to believe she loved him.

She just hadn't said the words.

Gods help him, he'd inspire her to say them! If he had to use his every last trick, he'd help her see they were meant to be together.

He dragged his tongue along her quivering seam, then paused and did nothing for a long moment. Just stared and appreciated the beauty of her while she grew impatient. She began to move, began to sigh.

Oh, how he was enjoying this!

She was so close to begging. He didn't need her to beg, but to tease her was such bliss.

"Dionysus,” she implored, her voice cracking.

He lowered his head and nibbled at her swollen lips, pulling on them gently, watching as they fell back into position like the strong inner petals of a flower. He buried his face in her opening and heard her cry out.

"No way, baby,” he chuckled before she lost herself completely. “You're not coming like this either."

He positioned himself atop her, letting his happy cock nestle between her happy folds. She wrapped her legs around him and sighed. “Finally."

He smiled. “Finally."

With that uttered word, he kissed her and buried himself inside her.

Josie opened her eyes, feeling a breeze all around her. They seemed to be moving! Like, off the ground!

At first when Dionysus began to thrust, exposing her to the most sinful, delightful feeling she'd ever known, she'd just felt utter relief at being joined to him. As if their bodies melded together were written in the stars. As if the unheard of pleasure was somehow preordained. Meant to be.

But then this phenomenal rushing sensation overcame her, and she wondered if they were taking off. Lowering her head to kiss his skin, she looked over his shoulder.

Mother of God, they were flying!

She clutched at Dionysus as they rose high above the meadow and the willow tree. “What the hell is happening?"

He grinned, and then ran his tongue along the length of her neck, making her explode in goose pimples. “You're safe. Just hold onto me."

"Considering you're currently inside me,” she cried, “that shouldn't be a problem.

She listened to his deep laughter, titillated even more, and watched as they soared into the sky. Before long, she was seeing stars, and not just because he was pumping into her with the most wonderful appendage in existence, but because they were so high up. For a moment, she thought she spied some of the constellations that told tales of Dionysus and his heavenly family.

He kissed her deeply and her eyes fell closed, as much as she wanted to watch their progress through the sky. Within seconds, they came to a soft landing on a hard surface, and her eyes popped open again.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph! They were in a temple!

There were columns lining the ornate room and beautiful, veined marble everywhere. White, with streaks of dove gray running through it. Little shrines were set up in various spots throughout the room, decorated with vines that still had plump grapes attached. And in the middle of the temple was a large altar. One on which they were currently splayed.

Dionysus was still between her legs, still somehow thrusting with a momentum that never seemed to fade, despite all their travels through the firmament. He wasn't even out of breath and looked quite pleased with himself.

"What is this place?” she asked.

"My temple. You're in
my
fantasy now."

Yet, even as he said those words, Josie recognized the room. Recognized the altar. It was the scene she'd envisioned when he took her in The Sinners. She'd imagined him making love to her on an ornamented altar, and here they were. Somehow, they'd had the same fantasy, and he was making it come true for her.

He was her dream come true. Somehow she knew she'd always been searching for him. Dionysus. The only man she could ever love.

He slid in and out of her pussy with agonizing languor. Making her want to be ravished hard and fast, then slowly again. Everything he did, each delicious movement, seemed to speak to her. To call her name. And her body was responding with a passionate cry she'd never heard in herself. He angled her legs, thrusting deeper, and her breath seized. He reached between them and circled her clit with his expert thumb, and her body quaked. He threw her legs over his shoulders and grunted, fucking her hard, and she felt her orgasm take her. Throw her. Toss her in the air and twirl her like a baton.

Now she knew why those French writers called it a “little death.” Her limbs were as useless as those of a jellyfish. She felt broken, yet healed at the same time.

She felt as if everything were right and beautiful with the world.

Dionysus came, his voice shouted out a guttural expression of his pleasure. He expired atop her.

She closed her eyes and felt a love so strong it could have been blasphemous.

When she finally opened her eyes, they were back under the willow tree, bodies still sweaty and tangled.

He must have felt the flutter of her eyelashes on his cheek because he looked at her, his eyes full of emotion. “Josie, I love you."

Her heart soared, much as they'd soared through the sky. “I love you, too."

They both began to laugh, like a couple of shy teenagers making out behind the school wall. After a time, during which they caressed and kissed each other to the point of near exhaustion, he made more food appear. Veal sandwiches, this time. Her favorite. Also some wine for him, and, as per her request, water for her. She didn't want to get loopy again and miss a single joyous moment with him. They fed each other, slowly helped each other get dressed, and stood.

After all, they still hadn't found Eurydice.

As they walked away from the willow tree, Dionysus put his arm around her shoulders. She felt so safe with him, but hadn't lost sight of where they were.

She turned back, wanting to capture the image of their meadow in her memory. Wanting to remember the curve of each willow branch. But when she turned, the landscape had transformed yet again. The flowers had all withered, died. The grass was replaced by dry, pock-marked dirt. And the willow tree had fallen over, gaping from a huge cut in the trunk. As if a giant hand had reached down and snapped it like a twig.