The Heart of War (77 page)

“It escapes me.”

“Well, in that case, when I come back I will remind you,” Alena offered as she wandered away from him and plucked the bag with the La Perla logo on it from a nearby chair. 

The windows in that shop had been most interesting to Ares but he had been unable to see what she purchased.  He had an inkling then that his wait would end before the sun came up, but he didn’t want to rush her or make her feel as though she had to come to him because it was their wedding night.  Ares stood by the picture window watching her go off to the bathroom where she closed the door just as he heard the crinkling of the bag opening.

Holding up his end of the bargain, Ares took the Red Sox jersey out of a bag and pulled the tags off it with his teeth as he slipped the sweater over his head.  “Do Mortal men really wear these things?” he muttered to himself as he looked at the shirt.  It seemed a very strange thing to do to him.  Nonetheless, a deal was a deal. Ares slid it over his head and down his bare skin.  “Oh, that is nice,” he commented as the soft cotton enveloped him and his rubbed it against his chest as he caught sight of his reflection in the window.  The shirt did fit rather well and maybe he could see what Alena had been getting at.  The blue jeans looked good but…Ares snapped his fingers and they were gone, replaced by his favorite black leather pants.  “Better,” he announced to himself.

In the bathroom, Alena changed out of her new outfit and stood before the sink to freshen herself for her new Husband.  The soap provided smelled very nice and went with the body spray she had purchased at La Perla along with the satin and lace negligee.  Standing there naked, she wondered what it was Ares saw in her when there were so many more younger and appealing women around them.  She touched the glittering necklace at her throat with all of its rubies and diamonds and let go of any worries.

When she came out of the bathroom, Ares had the candles in the room lit and the fire in the hearth was burning nicely.  He was waiting for her as he lounged on the bed that was too short to accommodate his long legs.  “I like it,” she whispered.  “Now you’re just teasing me, you know how much I love those.”  She pointed to the leather slacks he’d summoned up instead of the blue jeans.

Ares didn’t truly hear her; he sat up feeling his heart stop for the second time today and drank in the sight of her standing there in the soft light in a very elegant and sexy ice blue nightgown.  The satin shimmered in the firelight and gave her an ethereal glow as her silvery white hair cascaded down over her shoulders.  While his heart may have temporarily forgotten how to beat, that Louisville Slugger between his legs had not forgotten how to stir and it began to do so that the second she walked into the room. 
Down boy
, he said in his head to the cock already stirring between his legs,
we’ve got a long night ahead of us.

“You’re stunning.  So much so you make my heart hurt as you take my breath away.”  Ares held his hand out to her and watched as she nearly floated across the room to him.

“I’m glad you think so.  I know what people are thinking when we walk down the street.”

“What?”

“That I’m old enough to be your grandmother,” she cracked good-naturedly.  The vendor at the ballpark had asked her just that question when she pointed out Ares to him as she bought the jersey he was wearing so well;
is he your grandson?
  “Does it bother you?  I know you saw the people stare at us. You heard Earl.” Alena started fiddling with the ends of her gray hair. “I could color it, I would look younger.”

“Stop it.” Ares stood up to gently put his hand over hers and drew them away from her hair. Cupping her pretty wrinkleless face in his warm hands, he traced his fingers across her cheeks, her lips, down the nape of her neck.  “You are so beautiful that you shame the sun.”  His big mitts touched down on her shoulders over the thin straps of the gown and she let out a little quiver. 

“Charmer,” Alena whisper in soft accusation. 

“Don’t change a hair for me, not if you care for me,” Ares crooned in a soft voice. “Each day is Valentine’s Day.”

“Sinatra?” Alena said with a smile as he started to dance with her. “You
are
one surprise after another.” Having his hands on her this way again made her feel alive; when she was captive to Cernunnos she’d been so sure Ares would never want to touch her again.  He would consider her not just damaged but irreparable beyond all hope and repair.  Then the black emptiness that she had feared would consume her, it would invade all of the places Ares left hollow when he took his love away. Now all of that vanished. The mere sound of his voice was more than enough to chase it away so far and so fast Alena was sure it would never dare to return.  Reaching up she ran the palms of her hands down the front of the rippling baseball jersey.  “I told you this would look good on you,” she complimented as her fingers began to grasp at the soft cotton material and the hard body below.  Hands grasping a little further, she ran them down his flanks enjoying each luscious bump and muscular ripple that passed under her palm only to run back up again to that broad furry chest that always made her heart stop at the sight of it.  “You don’t mind if I take it off, do you?”

“Be my guest,” Ares invited as his own hands wandered over the smooth satin gown covering her velvety skin.  He really liked the way it slid over her under the command of his hand, almost as though someone had covered her in some fine oil.  As her slightly shaking fingers began to work the buttons on the jersey and the heat between them started to rise, Ares took in a deep breath to fill himself with it and was disappointed.  She’d put on perfume.  It was nice smelling perfume but he preferred her natural scent especially when they were this close to each other.  That intoxicating mixture of honeysuckle and sunshine was almost enough to put him over the edge every time it wafted to him.  From behind her, so close she could feel the heat but not close enough to touch, his hands rose up to the top of her head and made their way back down, erasing the scent.

Alena felt something happen; it didn’t hurt, it was a little tingly, almost as though she had been lightly dusted with cool water.  Then she noticed the absence of the scent.  “Don’t like my perfume?”  Like his eyesight and his hearing, Ares’ sense of smell was very sharp. Perhaps she would have to be more careful of strong scents; maybe they bothered him.

“You need no perfume to entice me.”  With the fabricated scents gone from her, that heady aroma which was her own rose up to greet him.  “Or this gown, though I admit, it suits you so well.”  Ares picked up a small bit of the delicate lacy material resting between those heavy breasts and ran it through his fingers.  “Perhaps you should take it off.  If I do it I’m sure to rip it to shreds and I would so like you to wear this for me again.”

With the sounds of the harbor moaning low in the distance, Alena rose up to her tiptoes and waited for him to bow down to her.  “If it rips you’ll buy me a new one,” Alena whispered as she slipped the jersey off his broad shoulders and let it fall to the floor behind him.  There were just those awe-inspiring leather slacks in her way now.  Not for long; undoubtedly that hardening bulge was getting very uncomfortable harnessed behind the nearly completely unforgiving leather. 

Ares hesitated even as he gazed down at her with open lust. “The last time we did this…wasn’t so good.”

“I’m not afraid. Kiss me again, make me your Wife.”

A gentleman should never say ‘no’ to such a request from a beautiful woman.  Taking her pretty face up in his hands again and wetting his lips with a sly grin, Ares came in for the kiss she wanted and was warmly welcomed.  Trying to contain himself as that thick cock of his pushed his slacks to maximum capacity, Ares slid the straps of the gown down her milky shoulders, over her arms, past her long lovely fingertips.  As it slipped past them, Alena laced her fingers between his and kissed him deeper while her bare breasts pushed against the soft hair on his tight abdomen.  Wishing in the back of his mind that she were wearing those boots, Ares tightened his arm muscles and his grip on her fingers.  He pushed upward gently until she was off her feet, dangling in midair, as she rose a bit higher and higher and he was able to straighten his spine.  Gravity did its job; as she rose it pulled on the pretty gown resting around her slender waist until it slid away from her and floated to the floor in a glittery display of captured firelight.  In keeping with the traditions of Ares’ island, Alena wore nothing beneath the gown.  High off the ground, her feet slid up and down his calves and then a little higher until they reached the lower thigh.  As long as he held onto her hands, she couldn’t get those slacks off him.  There was an answer to that delightful dilemma.  With their mouths pressed firmly together, she brought her legs up and wrapped them tightly around his firm waist just above the band of the bothersome slacks.  Feet interlocking behind his back, Alena was able to hold her own weight and let go of his hands without breaking the kiss.  One arm wrapped around the back of his neck to further secure her position and entwining around those raven locks, she used the other to undo the criss-crossing tie at his waist, the very top of her bottom resting on the bulge, making it twitch harshly between his legs.  Wanting to be free of the constraint, Ares thought he’d lend a hand and slipped his arm under that firm ass of hers to keep it resting where it was but not dependent upon her strength, more like a little seat from which she could work more comfortably.  Finally the knot slipped open under her fingers; quickly she slid the small strap through the holes holding the shield between them.  The leather clung so well to him that they refused to drop away even when the strap came completely free and she tossed it away.

Ares was strong and he had a good back.  The legs wrapped around his waist slipped their toes between the leather and his skin.  The arm under her ass tightened and held her up as he kissed her deeper and held her closer, those toes pushing downward and ridding him of those enticing pants for the remainder of the night.  Alena let out a little cry and that turned into a giggle of delight when his cock broke free and snapped against her back, her hips searched out for it and Ares wanted to feel her sliding down on him bringing him release and relief.  “Not yet.”  He lifted her up and away from her goal while she let out a groan of displeasure.  “What’s your rush?  We have the rest of our lives.”  He laid her down on the king-sized bed with its fluffy pillows and down comforter.  Head to toe his hands ran over her and made her quiver with each pass.  “My Wife.  My Woman. My Queen.”

“Always yours, my Lord,” Alena agreed.  “Always for you.  Only.”

Kissing his way down the nape of her neck, past and over each heaving breast, Ares’ head came to rest on her womb.  There he stopped to listen to the heart beating within.  To nuzzle and lay more kisses.  Each breath brought the scent between her waiting legs to him.  Soft like the honeysuckle that surrounded her but with that hypnotizing underlying call of musk.  Listening to the sound of her heart quicken and his son’s beating smoothly, he worked his way the rest of the way down her running the flat of his moist tongue along her inner thighs, making them rise up to greet him and causing the most delightful moans to escape Alena’s throat.  “It’s been so long since I had the taste of you on my tongue.”

“Days,” Alena agreed, not meaning to mock him.  But Ares seemed to take slight offense in his reply.

“Days without your taste and your touch are a lifetime.”  His beard eased its way around on her thighs and then to that waiting place.  Cernunnos’ scent still lingered here but not after tonight.  It would be gone forever.  Ares would see to that.  When the bittersweet taste of her met the tip of his tongue, Alena’s hips came up off the bed and her hands reached down to grab at his head as the tips entwined in his hair.  As the finger bearing its shiny new ring slid into her, Alena’s hips hovered in the air before the strength seemed to fade out of them and they settled down on the mattress as her heart beat faster and those beautiful breasts heaved up and down with desire.  The taste that he was longing for began to trickle down upon his waiting tongue.

 Sweeter than Nectar.

More intoxicating than wine.

It wasn’t long before she was climbing higher and higher; one hand fell away from his head to grasp at the thick down comforter.  She began using it to try to push away from him.  The hand left at the back of his head pulled backward on his hair.  The longer she tried to delay the climax the harder it would come, the more of her would rain down on him.  For a long moment he let her think she was getting the upper hand in her struggle to contain her delight.  “Foolish woman,” Ares whispered, “you can’t fight me.”  When the second finger entered and the flat on his hot tongue slid all the way across her, Alena surrendered in a long shuddering climax, soaking his beard and filling him with the prize he’d sought.  He lapped it up until he was granted the grace of another, smaller, climax.  “This is mine.  You are mine.”

“Always,” Alena agreed again as she watched him slither up her body knowing he was going to enter her now.  More pleasure would ensue and the last remnants of pain washed away. 

Ares stopped his ascent to nuzzle his face into the nape of her warm neck, breathe in the summer honeysuckle once more, before his lips closed down upon it and the hands that had been running across his back turned into a talon sinking deep into his skin.  His big hand covering her ample breast, Ares looked over at it encasing the soft flesh and felt her stare upon it, heard her heart quicken below his ear.  “You like that, don’t you?  The sight of my dark skin on your alabaster flesh.”

“Yes,” she confessed.  The contrast was strangely erotic.  It made her think of sweet forbidden pleasures.

“As do I,” Ares admitted as he rose up and swung his leg over to mount her.  Those supple shapely legs parted for him.  Let other people think the woman below him was someone’s grandmother; he knew better.  This little silver spitfire was a classic Astin Martin and he was going to drive it as such tonight.  One more kiss and Ares slid home.  Again the greeting was warm and welcoming; those open legs rose up on his thighs and then tightened around his waist as she pulled him closer, deeper.  Although he had wanted his entrance to be slow and lingering, to enjoy the prying apart of each tight millimeter, Alena was more than ready for him. Before he knew it his entire shaft was buried in her small body and her hips were grinding upward as the slick strong muscles within suckled and pulled as they swelled around him.