The Heart of War (37 page)

“My hero,” Alena cooed heatedly feeling like a fairy princess in some fantastical fairy tale, possibly even one with a Happily Ever After.

Ares laid his forehead against hers. “I am no one’s hero, woman.”

“You’re my hero,” Alena corrected and gave his full lips a gentle peck. “But I doubt I can offer you ten thousand nights, my Love.” The confession was full of sorrow. Alena wished she had met him a hundred years ago when she was still fairly young and had a fuller lifetime ahead of her. Fate could be cruel sometimes. Alena would not be sad for the days behind but elated for the days ahead, long or short they may be.

My Love.

The words echoed in his mind, tickling his ears and caressing his soul.

My Love.

No woman ever called him that before, not even Aphrodite, and Ares liked that sound of that so much better than ‘My Lord’. That rush was intense but this one was sublime.

My Love.

Remembering the auburn haired little girl he’d seen earlier, the God of War looked down to take in tresses of silver-gray spilling around her still unlined face. “If all I can have is one night, I’ll take it and call it a bargain. If I should be blessed with just one more night thereafter I’ll consider it a bonus.”

“And I you. Always, I will love you, Magdalena.” A long, deep and passionate kiss followed as the gulls cried overhead and the last of the sun’s rays bled across the sky. “Come inside with me,” Ares said breathlessly when their lips parted.

“Why? Can they hear us? See us?”

“I’ve no doubt they’re watching us right now.” One reason he had been trying to keep his voice down and his face toward hers was so they couldn’t hear and they couldn’t read his lips. Ares was determined to protect her from all comers and at all costs. Inside his cave they could not see and they could not hear. A man’s home was his castle after all.

Alena frowned but then the corners of her lips began to turn upward and her eyes to sparkle. “Even Aphrodite?”

Yes, he had chosen very well in Alena. It was Ares’ turn to smile. “I do so love the way you think.” When she was not using her cunning against him that was, yes, he marveled at her thought patterns and how devious she could be if she had to. “Yes, especially her, she is watching us seething with jealousy.” So he imagined were Apollo and Eros. The rest were watching with intense curiosity and hoping for a voyeuristic thrill. Maybe they should not disappoint those watching from above.

“Good.” The sparkle in her gray eyes turned into an all out gleam as she rolled the God of War onto his back in the sand. “Let her watch this.” Straddling his waist, she felt the part of him between his legs twitch and begin to stir when her lips seized hold of his. “You’re mine now and I want her to know it.”

He liked the sound of that. It rushed through him like a raging river and made the twitching grow to an itching throb. His hands reached up her back, slowly taking down the zipper so that the material at her shoulders fell away and showed him the soft mounds of her breasts. No matter what they all thought Alena was more beautiful than Aphrodite inside and out. Alena had an Earthly beauty, a grounding yet charging beauty whereas Aphrodite’s beauty was brash and flashy. Burying his face in the crevice between those warming heaving breasts, his nose filled with the scents desire and honeysuckle. Warm summer days and long summer nights crossed through his mind as his hands grabbed for the flesh at her back and his tongue began to explore her hardening nipples.

“Don’t ever let me go.”

“Never.” His face between her breasts, Ares looked up and brushed the hair away from her face. “Don’t be afraid. Fly with me.” He slid the sleeves down past her arms and then pushed the dress off her. When she brought her hips up and away from his for just a moment, Ares thought he would lose his mind. It seemed to take so long for them to come back and rest against him once more. Now she perched naked on top of him, nipples hard, breasts heaving and those too slender hips grinding. If he could, he’d just stay inside of her forever. Not thrusting. Not writhing. Not cumming. Just soaking in her, lapping up the glory he’d found in her and forever nestling himself in its light. The drive he felt when he was with her to be tender, to be intimate, to touch, caress, kiss, and let go of all inhibition was stronger than the one that cursed him all these centuries. The desire—near madness—that drove him to accidentally kill so many fragile Mortal women. The one that would never let him sleep or rest. That all disappeared with her. Here there was peace. There was acceptance.

Alena’s lips moved away from his and to his neck. “I do so love the way you taste.” She sighed and began nibbling below his ear. “The way you feel. I can’t stop touching you.” Indeed she could not. Her hands ran wild, with minds of their own, all over him. All she knew was the sensation of his flesh below her palms but not which direction they would take or when and where they could stop to knead him, caress him and drink in as much as they could of him.

To the best of his recollection, Alena was the softest thing he’d ever touched. “That’s good because I don’t want you to.” Softer than pillows or feathers. Softer than the most luxurious silks was her touch as it glided over him. Ares’ own hands slid down her back and over her firm ass to grab one cheek in each hand as her lips and then her teeth clamped down over his neck. He wished that he were Mortal so that he could bare the passionate badge of the hickey she was bestowing on him for more than an hour or so. He wanted the world to know that he belonged to her and her to him and there was no one else. Then those hot lips and that moist overly-long tongue were working their way past his neck and down his chest where her hands were still roaming wild in time to her pulsing heart beating below the breasts heaving against him. Down she went until her hands settled on the leather pants at his waist and deftly undid the strap that held them together. Ares let out a sigh of relief when she opened the restrictive leather, setting his bulging cock free. It prickled with life as it twitched and stretched upward at the feel of her breath falling on the tip. Her hands slid past it and down his hips, over his inner thighs and then past his hips again as she kissed, licked and suckled him from his chest to his flanks and then to those thighs tight with anticipation. All the while, her breath and her hair fell on that pulsing twitching part of him while her hands and her tongue escaped him until he could not take it any longer. “Please?”

Alena’s heart skipped a beat at his pleading request; she brought her mouth closer to its ultimate goal until her lips settled just over the tip. “Please...wh-at?” she whispered.

Ares’ hips rose off the sand as they probed around looking for the source of the hot wind that fled over him. “Please take me.”

Alena’s fingers wound the rest of the way down his inviting body to the hard shaft between his legs that protruded upward past his belly button toward his washboard stomach and that masculine patch of hair on his chest. The tool wielded by the God of War was beyond anything she had seen even in the pornography she sometimes watched when she lived in Boston alone at night in her bedroom. She could hardly believe she’d had it all inside of her and could have begged for more. “Say you’re mine.”
Even if it is just for tonight, please, please, please...
“Say you’re mine.” Long soft fingers wrapped around the bulging shaft and the God of War let out a heated sigh as she began to pump him, her lips hovering just over him making the heat between them moist with her breath.

Looking down at her, he smiled a little bit realizing the dominant had suddenly become the submissive and was glad for it. “I am helpless before you, woman.”

Alena licked away the saliva beginning to ooze from the corners of her mouth. She bent her head and took him into her mouth as far as she dared. Ares grunted and pounded the sand at his sides as her tongue danced around him and her hand pumped his hot shaft, coaxing it further and further down her slender throat. The taste was divine, the feel of it, like granite wrapped in silk. It slid over her tongue, down her throat, and all she wanted was more. The hands in the sand grabbed the sides of her head and his firm hips rose high in the air to meet her mouth and stayed there, hovering, waiting, anticipating the release of the pressure building up within and the eruption to follow.

First the God of War froze from head to toe, he let out a howl as his eyes rolled back in his head and he bolted to a half sitting position.

The eruption that accompanied the wanton howl seemed to rain down in buckets of warm cherries. Not wanting to waste what he was so kind as to give her, Alena took down as much as she could, letting the intriguing taste linger on her tongue. No other man tasted like cherries. Most of them were salty as the ocean and smelled as foul as the bottom of a deep bog. Not Ares. Like the touch and the scent of him, the taste left her wanting more.

One moment sitting half upright, frozen in place and bathed in sweat, the next Ares collapsed to the sand, gasped for breath and began to shake uncontrollably. Looking up at him, Alena became frightened. “My Love?” she asked as she slithered up him and pushed the hair away from his sweaty brow. “My Love?”

“The things you do to me, woman. It is I who is glad you washed ashore on my island.” Grabbing the back of her head, he brought her down for another long passionate kiss.

2

High on Olympus the Gods were watching with great interest. The heat from the lovers on the island so far below was felt all the way to the chilly halls of the mountain and the Great Council Chamber. When Ares howled all of the males squirmed in their seats, they leaned forward, sucked in air over their teeth and grabbed themselves. Athena shook her head in wonder. Hera smiled softly, feeling confident that she was right and Ares was in love with the Fey.

Aphrodite, however, let out a very loud and disapproving grunt. She looked from the screen, covering her ears with her hands to block out the howl echoing around her and took in the sight of the men—including Apollo—each of them wishing, in this very moment, they were Ares. It was a very long time ago when Aphrodite brought such howls from him, but she could not remember leaving him trembling and shaking in the aftermath of the climax. The Goddess of Love would not believe the filthy little Celt was a better Lover than she. If that were the case then the only other alternative left to Aphrodite was that Ares had fallen in love with Alena. That could not be possible either; Ares had already fallen in love with her. He said so himself so many centuries ago. Yet there was no denying the passion and the heat on the island below and it wasn’t just Lust.

“Did you do this?” Aphrodite hissed in Eros’ ear, appalled by the sight of his hard cock popping a tent in his loincloth.

“Me? Are you kidding, Mother? Me? Shoot Father with an arrow?” Eros’ voice was thick with heat as he grabbed hold of his hard cock and gave it a good tug, wishing for relief. “No way.”

“Stop that,” she hissed again and then raised her voice so the others could hear. “He’s just putting on a show. He knows we’re watching.” She huffed and slapped Apollo’s bare arm, the one holding his own burgeoning cock—a great deal smaller than his Brother’s.

At the sound of flesh smacking against flesh, Zeus let out a laugh and turned his old eyes to her. “It looks as though he’s genuinely enjoying himself to me, my dear.”

“So it does,” Hera agreed.

“We’ll see,” Aphrodite challenged and folded her arms across her overflowing bosom. “She’ll never get all of that inside her.”

That prospect made all of them tingle, except Aphrodite. Kicks and Thrills were cheap here on Olympus. All of them spent nearly every moment of their lives here cooped up with each other, stabbing each other in the back and taking each other to bed. “Who’s first?” Hades asked as he reached into his pocket and produced a small sack of jewels. “I say she can do it.”

“I’ll take that bet,” Poseidon returned, laying his own sack of gold on the table.

One by one, the rest followed suit with Aphrodite laying the largest wager against Alena and upping the bet in the process. “I say he kills her. Whether meaning to or not,” she added as an afterthought. “Any takers on that one?”

Slowly rising to her feet, Hera spoke. “I say what you are about to see will make even you, Aphrodite Goddess of Love, blush or turn green with envy. I say Magdalena takes all of him and she enjoys every moment of it, as does he.” Strong delicate hands rose to the top of her head, removed the gold crown, and put it down next to her wager. “Further, I say Ares doesn’t come anywhere near harming her. I say he will be tender.”

Aphrodite snorted. “The only thing your Son knows about tender is in regards to a good steak.” She ripped the crown off her own head and laid it down. “I’ll take your bet, Hera. You’re going to be sorry when I rule Olympus with Zeus.”

With concern, Zeus reached up to grab hold of Hera’s sleeve and tug upon it until she bent her ear to his lips. “Are you sure about this, Wife? I don’t want to spend eternity with her at my side.” Aphrodite was lovely, beautiful to look at it, great in bed, but she was bitch.

“You won’t,” Hera assured her Husband and sealed it with a peck on his bearded cheek. “Anyone else?” she offered as she rose to her full height once more.

There were no takers. The rest were very content, eager even, to sit and watch the outcome of what happened on the island and how it affected the status quo here on Olympus, but they were not willing to risk their own seats on Ares.

“Betting is closed,” Hera intoned and resumed her seat to watch her Son make love with the little Fey.

3

Alena and Ares had done many things last night but her riding him had not been one of them. Now she wanted to try, she did not know if she would be any good at it and she was nervous. The last thing she wanted to do was disappoint him. “May I, my Love?” she asked as she settled over him, holding that massive throbbing cock in one hand and parting her lower lips with the other.