The Heart of War (48 page)

4

“How much of this insult am I to bear?!” Cernunnos bellowed making the windows in his own throne room ring out in protest.

Mae could not help it; she was as defiant as her daughter was. “At least a few more hours, my Lord.” So it would seem to her. Ares might cum quickly but Mae had the feeling their evening would not end there. “I dare say she’ll take him around the world before dawn and revel in every moment.” She readied herself for the coming smack but Cernunnos did a most confusing and amazing thing instead.

“Get out!” he shouted and pointed roughly toward the door.

Mae wanted to run for the door without looking back but she was afraid of an ambush. He never told her to get out when she was crass. He yelled. He hit her. He did other unspeakable things to her.

“
Are you deaf, bitch? Get out!”

Scrambling to her feet naked, not bothering with the clothing she’d come with as it was just rags now, Mae ran across the room and out the door where two Druids were waiting to take her back to her cell. She would like to watch Maggie and her handsome Lover, not to be voyeuristic but just to be sure Ares did care for her daughter. It was better to leave. If she was right and Cernunnos was about to witness a scorching night between his Wife and Ares it was best not to be present. That didn’t stop Mae’s heart from being elated for Maggie.

5

On his Throne of Bones, Ares’ eyes sprung open. Alena did not stop doing the wonderful thing she was doing between his legs. Ares looked around the room and did not see anyone but he swore that he had heard a voice, an angry voice, yelling at someone to get out. Who and where he couldn’t tell. Holding his breath and straining those finely acute ears, he listened as hard as he could but heard nothing more. Nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat and the passionate sighs between his legs. Perhaps Alena was right, perhaps there was some aftereffect of the bolt the Druid shot at him. Perhaps it was just his mind playing a little trick on him or perhaps it was just a whisper of the wind catching his ear wrong. With that falsely comforting thought in his mind, Ares returned to surrendering to the growing pleasure and lust. Grabbing up handfuls of silver hair he spread it up and out over his bare skin while he ran his fingers through it. “How is it you know exactly what to do to me?”

Alena’s only answer was to look up at him and away from her work. When she did, he pulled her hair away from her face. Their eyes met and hers smiled at him. Ares thought the mere sight of his cock in her mouth would bring him to climax. Still shy, still unsure of herself as a Lover, Alena swiped her own hand through her hair to bring it down between them like a veil. It was swept back quickly.

“I want to see you. I want to watch you while you pleasure me.”

That silky tongue lapped around him while she let out a little humming titter and held his stare. There was just something in the way he was looking at her, it captivated her, captured her like a small bird in the palm of his large powerful hand. She never wanted him to stop looking at her that way, until the day she grew too old and frail for her heart to keep beating she wanted to look up at him and see him staring back at her just like this. With eyes so alight with a love so deep and intense, they shone like the sun making her desire to return the favor with equal intensity. One hand moved away from the shaft it had been pumping, up to his chest to land in that soft patch of fur over his heart and knead at the flesh. Ares’ eyes fluttered shut as they rolled back in his head, just before they closed completely Alena saw nothing but the whites of his onyx eyes. His hips came off the throne once more and she buried her face in that soft patch of raven hair just above the throbbing Louisville Slugger in her mouth. From his raven head to his toes, his heart to his soul, Ares felt every inch the God and then some.

6

The only reason Ares did not hear the howling bellow of Cernunnos’ rage when the God of War let loose the hot load of cum was because his own howl blocked it out as Alena greedily gobbled up every cherry drop. Although his sweat-bathed skin prickled with goosebumps and turned cold, he didn’t even think about it, so lost was the God of War in the realm of Desire.

“I’m going to kill her! Do you hear me, Magdalena? I’m going to
tear you to shreds
!”

7

“Satisfied, my Love?”

Catching his breath, Ares let out a chuckle. “Loaded question,” he commented. “I know you are not so then I am not. Climb up here, woman. Ride me.” Reaching down for her to bring her up to him, Ares noticed first that she was cold and covered in goosebumps, then he recognized the same about himself. He cast a swift hand toward the fire making the blaze spring to full life as it roared up the chimney. It seemed the early autumn evening had turned chilly while they weren’t paying attention.

Wiping the last of what he had given from her chin, she climbed up on Ares lap and settled down on the tip of him. Satisfied or not, Ares was still standing at attention and showed no signs of falling flaccid. “Kiss?” Alena asked fearing he would turn her away not wanting the taste of himself on his tongue.

“Kiss,” Ares agreed as he pulled her to him, his hands running along the soft skin of her back down to the soft round of her ass. The kisses, they had to be the best thing of all. Kisses. Kisses. Kisses and more kisses. So rare and wonderful. The Olympians found the simple act of kissing revolting. They did not kiss except on the cheek in greeting and that was only if they really liked the other person or wanted to get close enough to plant a dagger in their gut. There was little intimacy in what they called making love. Such was the price for being a God, for being Immortal. It only took a mere 2000 years of life before one could say they’d done absolutely everything the planet had to offer—twice, if not more. After that it was all downhill. Nothing was new anymore. Living and loving in the moment were unheard of as there was always another moment and then another and then two million more after that.

When Olympians engaged in these acts, it was Pleasure for Pleasure’s Sake, and more than that, Pleasure for their Own Damn Sakes. The more perversion and depravity the better. In the Old Days, they held huge Bacchanalias where the food, drink, and orgies went on for days. While these events were quite delightful, as with other sexual acts between Olympians, there was only taking. No giving. They did not kiss passionately. They did not embrace with urgency, their naked bodies crying out for the touch of their Lover. There was only raw sex. Not that there was anything wrong with that but this was so much better. This was so much
more
. It was splendid, magnificent, and even divine. It was deserving of such high praise and honor that songs and poems should be written about it, and they were, thousands upon thousands of them. While he’d read these things, he had always scoffed at them, at Mortals and their foolish hearts. Not now that he had her here in his arms. Never again would he call such things foolish. Ares
felt
her, all of her. Alena’s heart, her soul, and her very essence were entwining with him. Never had he been so close to another on all levels nor had his needs so fulfilled.

“If I tell you a secret, will you be angry?” Alena whispered against Ares’ neck in between little licks and nibbles.

When a woman had a secret to reveal at such a tender moment, it was usually a big one. Usually only one particular secret. “What did my Mother tell you?” He knew Hera had healed Alena and they had spent a good deal of time down here talking while Zeus bent Ares’ ear.

Rising up on her knees, pulling away from his neck, she brought her lips back to his for a long deep passionate kiss, Alena sat up on Ares lap, sliding the last of him into her. Although it was mixed with a bit of knowing, that gaze of love and desire did not leave his eyes. The words stuck in her throat as the last bit of fear ran through her.

“Tell me,” Ares begged quietly as his heart began to race. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m pregnant.” The last bits of fear slipped out of her mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” It was the first time Ares was ever happy to hear those words. He wasn’t just happy—he was elated, he was walking on air at the news and felt as though he could conquer the world single-handedly. So late in his life, for Fate to give him this most precious second chance was more than he ever dreamed. Like the woman nestled so snug and warm on his hot staff who had never known that she needed Ares until she met him, Ares never knew this was something he even wanted until just now. Nothing was going to keep it from him. “You are perfect. This is perfect.” The flat of his hand found its way to her womb, disappointed that he could not yet feel the life growing within. Hera could and he soon would. “Kiss me again, woman, let our child know that he is conceived in love.”

Alena had been terrified to tell him but now that fear lifted. Even though she was not a powerful, grand, glorious, civilized, self-righteous Olympian, but a lowly filthy Celt, Ares was genuinely happy at the news of his impending Fatherhood and now she could allow herself to feel it, too. To feel the joy, the hope, the love for someone she’d had yet to meet. It overwhelmed her with hopes and dreams for the future. “Always love with you, promise. Only you. Only love.”

“This and this only, I swear,” Ares whispered as he came in closer and planted his lips over hers. Alena’s hips ground down him as her tongue explored the back of his throat. Holding his hand to the back of her head and the other to her womb trying to catch the small glimmers of life there, he thrust upward into her as she greeted him wantonly.

In the warm glow of the hearth, they made love until dawn. Until Ares’ throne was soaked through and too slippery to hold them. At that point, they moved to the floor by the light and warmth of the hearth to continue their evening atop thick bear hides. Together they ground, thrust, grunted and moaned until both of them were covered in sweat and spent to the point that they could no longer move. All they could do was to lay curled up in each other’s arm trying to catch their breath.

Alena fell asleep in Ares’ arms, her body pressed to his side, one leg curled over his and her head pressed to his chest, listening to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. Ares conjured one of the quilts from her bedroom with which to cover her. He had to take extra care of her now, watch over her, protect her even more than before. Softly Ares laid a kiss upon her sleeping cheek. She was going to make a fantastic mother, he was sure of it and he could not wait to witness it. Could not wait to watch her belly swell as his child grew, watch her waddle around the cave, and massage her back and her tiny feet when they ached. All of the things a happily expectant Father should be able to do and yet, Aphrodite let him do none of those things for her.

If one averaged it out, Ares would say that over the course of his 5000 years on the planet, he had sex anywhere from three to five times per day. That was a lot of sex, so to him the 2000 or so children he spawned were not very many. Ares would be the first to admit he didn’t care about the vast majority of those children as overall there wasn’t anything special about them or their mothers. Olympian traits didn’t always carry to the next generation; as such most of the children Ares produced were mere mortals with no talents or powers. Ares did not even know the names of those children nor did he want to. The only children Ares ever wanted or cared about to any extent were those Aphrodite gave to him, but she would not let him be a Father to them. Each time Ares had to stand by silently and watch his brother dote on Aphrodite in her delicate condition, thinking the child inside of her was his. Aphrodite passed all five of Ares’ children off as Hephaestus’s children for as long as she could, until their affair was uncovered and Ares stood bravely before his Family and finally claimed those offspring as his own.

Not this time.

This time he would be here for every minute of Alena’s pregnancy, he would comfort her when morning sickness struck, he would lay his hands upon her stomach and feel his child kick inside of her. He would cater to her every whim; bring her anything her heart desired no matter the time of night or how silly her request might seem to him. Together they would build their future, they would dream about the child and the family they were about to have. They would pick out names, make plans, and tomorrow or the day after he would go out to the woods and find a good sturdy tree. Ares would cut it down and he would carve it into a fine cradle.

Yet, Ares was troubled. Those too-slender hips of hers, he worried about how she would manage to pass a baby through them without risking harm to herself. If anything happened to her, Ares would go out of his mind with grief. “Now that you are here, you are everything to me, Alena. You are already my Queen but when this is over, I will make you my Wife. If you will have me. We will have the most wonderful life together, I will take you places you have never seen, I will see this worn down old world of ours through your eyes and the eyes of our child. I promise.”

Making plans for the future, Ares laid awake for hours holding Alena in his arms soaking in the warmth of the fire. Tucked safely under his strong arm with her head on his chest, Alena slept peacefully until she started to shiver. Thinking himself lost to his thoughts and he’d forgotten to stoke the fire, Ares did just that from where he lay. She didn’t stop shivering; in fact, she shivered harder. He brought the blanket closer around her shoulders as he embraced her snugly. When she started making little guttural sounds, he knew she was dreaming. He wished he were Morpheus so he could see what she was dreaming, from his perspective it didn’t sound good. She let out little moans and sighs but even his finely tuned ears couldn’t tell if they were pleasure or fear. From the way she was shaking he’d guess fear, and prayed he wasn’t the cause.

Zeus had a good look in her mind today, brought out her memories of Artemis along with the tip of those concerning Eros and Apollo. Alena could be dreaming about anything. For a moment, the chilly hand resting so sweetly over his heart grew rigid as it turned into a talon and sank into Ares’ flesh. The pain was bright; it made him sit up partway. Alena didn’t wake; she just kept on dreaming and clawing at him. Before he could grab her hand, she let out a scream that became a word and then several words as she tumbled over onto her back, arms outstretched to the sky.