Thief of Olympus (Greek Myth Series Book 3) (17 page)

She reached out for Zarek, slipping his cloak from his shoulders, then taking his torn tunic in her hands and ripping it the rest of the way from his body. The sound of the ripping cloth only excited her more, and she felt a dampness between her thighs, thinking of coupling with this king of Thrace.

“I want to feel your chest,” she said, reaching out and rubbing her hands over his wide, sturdy chest, feeling thick corded muscle beneath his skin. She rubbed her hands up and down, liking the friction under her fingers, then playfully fingered his nipples making them go taut.

“I want to feel yours as well.”

He pulled the tunic up and over her head, leaving her totally naked. His eyes settled on her breasts, the intensity of what he really wanted burning in his gaze. She thrust herself toward him and he grabbed her in both hands, fondling her more than gently, and she loving the roughness between them. Then his fingers moved over her nipples, the feel of fire burning in her belly growing out of control. She threw her head back and moaned.

“Taste me,” she commanded him, meaning to be in control of everything, telling him what she wanted him to do to please and excite her. He followed orders without a fight, bringing his mouth to her breast. He suckled her, taking her into his hot, moist mouth, trying to pull her essence from her body with each tug of his lips. Zeus’s eyes, he knew how to arouse her! He had her senses reeling, and her body trembling at his touch. She took his head and pushed it into her, wanting to be deeper within his mouth. He used his tongue next, in wonderful ways she’d never known.

“Zarek,” she cried, and then, “Zarek!” much louder. Her back arched in pure ecstasy, and her hips started gyrating on their own. The sounds of mating and moaning from the dozens of Dionysus’s followers all around her only added to heighten her arousal.

“I want you,” she said as more of a demand than a request. It was in her warrior nature to take a man if she so wanted, and she definitely wanted to take him right here, right now, not caring if anyone would happen upon them in the act.

Pushing him down upon the pallet, she anxiously tugged his breeches down to his knees. He helped her by kicking off his sandals and pulling the breeches from his legs. Her eyes settled on his bare torso and the part of him that would please her most.

She ran her fingers down his chest, to his waist and lower, and took the weight of him in her hands. He groaned when she playfully tugged at him, growing in her hands to further excite her. The heat engulfed her body and a searing passion claimed her soul. She had never thought she would do what she next did, but she felt the need to taste him as he had tasted her.

“Good god of Olympus!” he cried out. “You keep that up much longer and this will be finished before I can stop it.”

She released him and spread her legs around him, but he took the advantage to push her to her back. His mouth covered hers in a kiss, while his fingers worked their magic to please her. The liquid passions of lust flowed freely and she lifted and arched beneath him as he drove her from her mind. Then, in one swift motion, he had her legs around his shoulders, tasting her as she had done to him, bringing her to her rapturous release.

Passion unleashed, she screamed out to the moon more than once, then threw him onto the pallet and regained control.

“I like the top,” she reminded him, leaning over and biting at him playfully. She sat up straight, and he gripped her hips, placing her over his manhood. A spasm of desire coursing through her, she slid slowly downward basking in the hot pleasure until she’d enveloped every bit of him. She clawed at his chest in excitement, leaving scratches down his body. He turned animalistic at that, twisting, never breaking their connection, throwing her down on her back as he reclaimed the position of aggressor.

Thrust after thrust, she screamed louder with each wave of pleasure, wanting more of him, all of him, pulling him into her until they could get no closer. Her eyes closed and she surrendered to the passion, a sea of colors flashing behind her closed lids as he growled with approval and exploded within her. Just the thought they may be creating another child took her past excitement. She once again found her release, and then together they fell back enclosed in each others arms, sated and spent.

He rolled off of her then, and to her side. They released each other and tried to steady their breathing. They both looked up to the dark night sky, seeing Morpheous pulling the blanket of sleep across the vast space above them. Then Dionysus’s face appeared, standing before them, but neither felt shame or modesty or even the will to move.

A smile lit up the blue god’s face and he nodded in triumphant success.

“Welcome,” he said. “You are now my followers and will never leave my abode again.

Sixteen

Zarek rolled over, the rays of sunlight spilling down around his and Lysandra’s naked bodies. Her fiery red hair fanned out around her, gracing her as the princess she truly was. Last night had been the best night of his life. What he had shared with this Amazon woman went far beyond the realms of what he called a good bedding.

They were victims of Dionysus’s wine and had coupled only with the motive of lust, but still, he could not help but feel there was something more than physical pleasures between them. He reached out and brushed a stray lock of hair from Lysandra’s mouth, the tip of it wet from touching her luscious lips. He had to taste her again and bring her essence within him. He brought his lips to hers in a light whisper of a kiss and watched as she stirred and purred in her sleep.

Just the taste of her lips had him wanting more. His gaze fixed on her nakedness, and he couldn’t help but want to take her once again.

He felt the spell of the rich wine still lingering in his veins, and probably would have given in to desire, had he not seen the shining of a gold object in the sunlight, laying half hidden beneath a bush.

“The goblet,” he said softly, and hurriedly scanned the surroundings for Dionysus. He found the blue god in the throes of coupling with several lusty wenches at once, and looked back to Lysandra who once again stirred in her sleep.

He could taste the excitement of last night’s follies on his tongue and wanted a repeat course of action. He reached forward to touch one of her breasts, but once again his eye caught on the chalice as it glittered in the bright sun, almost seeming to call out to him to take it. Now was his time. This might be his only chance. If he wanted to win this challenge, he should take it now and leave before Lysandra even awoke.

He hurriedly forced himself to dress, though all he wanted to do was undress, and after fastening his sandals, he slipped the goblet into his secret pouch and donned his cloak.

Lysandra stretched and cooed, and Zarek had the urge to abandon his plan and give in to temptation. It took all his concentration to gather up her tunic and rouse her.

“Mmmmm,” she purred and opened one sleepy eye and then another. A sultry smile passed her lips and then a frown. “Why are you dressed, my king?” She pushed upward and tried to pull Zarek’s cloak from his shoulders. “Let me help.”

“No. Lysandra, get dressed quickly. We must go before Dionysus is finished coupling and notices we’re trying to escape.”

“Escape?” she asked loudly, and Zarek placed his hand over her mouth and looked around, but no one had heard her.

“Shhh,” he said. “We must be quiet.”

Her eyes glittered with mischief, and her tongue shot out to make its way between his fingers. It only reminded him of something else, and he had to hold back a groan of desire. He pulled his hand back, careful not to touch her again, lest it be his undoing.

“Put on your clothes, and we’ll be on our way.” He handed her the tunic wrap, but she had no intention of wearing it. She flung it to the side and pulled him to her and harshly kissed him on the mouth. He pulled away and picked up the tunic. “Stop it, Lysandra. You don’t know what you’re doing. You are under the spell of the wine.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” she challenged him. “I am going to make love to the king of Thrace.”

She pushed him down this time and mounted him though he was fully dressed. She rocked back and forth and squealed, only causing Zarek to become excited as well. He reached out and pulled her to him, helping himself to another kiss. He nipped and pulled at her lip, and she moaned in delight.

She started pulling at his breeches. Momentarily forgetting why he had come to Olympus in the first place, Zarek found himself sitting up to help her. But when his hand brushed across the golden chalice in his secret pouch inside his cloak, he stopped. “I can see this approach will never work.”

He pushed her aside, fixed his breeches, and tucked her tunic wrap under his arm. Then in one motion he flung her over his shoulder and made a dash for the exit.

“Put me down,” she said kicking her feet, and Zarek went faster before she caused a scene and gained the god’s attention. He reached the door and groaned when he noticed the sentries guarding it.

“No one leaves here,” they said, their eyes fastened on Lysandra’s bare backside. He saw his sword and the two daggers on the table and knew they’d never give them back by just his asking. He had to be clever - just like a thief. And he had to snap Lysandra out of this spell she was under before it was the end of them both.

“I’m not leaving. I am bringing her to you two, so you may enjoy her pleasures as well.”

Their eyes lit up at that, and though he expected to have Lysandra fight him, she didn’t object. He would have been severely disappointed in her hadn’t he known she was still feeling the results of Dionysus’s lustful wine. He put her on her feet, and with a sigh, she straightened her hair.

“Me first,” said one guard, unbuckling his belt and dropping his sword to the ground.

“Nay! I get her first,” said the other, and did the same.

Zarek palmed both the daggers, hiding them in his cloak, and without them knowing, fastened his sword at his waist. He was ready to go, and held the tunic out to Lysandra, but when he turned around, she was walking to them with open arms.

“Oh, no you don’t,” he said, pulling her back to him. She shook him off and headed back toward the guards who were now pulling off the last of their clothing.

“She needs something to snap her out of the spell,” he said and pulled the goblet from his hiding place. “Oh, Princess,” he called and waited while she turned around.

One look at the goblet in his hand and the spell upon her was broken. Her smile faded, and her eyes blazed.

“How dare you! You used me yet again to win the challenge.”

A guard grabbed her from behind, and Zarek took a step forward to protect her.

“I don’t need you,” she said, knocking out first one guard and then the other.

Zarek leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, and waited.

“Our coupling last night was because we were under the spell of the wine. It had nothing to do with deception,” he told her.

“Oh, didn’t it?” She grabbed the tunic from his hand and pulled it around her, tying it in place. Then she reached out for the goblet, but Zarek pulled it away.

“Uh, uh, uh,” he said with a tsk. “If you weren’t such a sound sleeper, this goblet could have been yours.”

She didn’t have time to protest. Dionysus spotted them with the goblet and called out to his guards, “Stop them.”

The guards shook their heads to clear them and staggered to their feet, only to trip on their clothes.

“You fools, he’s taking my magic goblet,” cried Dionysus, and raised his hand, sending flame forth.

Zarek quickly took hold of Lysandra’s arm and pulled her out the door, slamming it behind them. The fire hit the door, exploding it in the process. They ran to their horses and galloped out of Olympus at top speed, all the while Lysandra cursing at him and calling him some very colorful names.

*  *  *

They didn’t stop riding until they cleared Mt. Olympus and came to the base of a small stream. Lysandra stopped just behind Zarek, and dismounted, following him to the water’s edge.

He pulled the goblet out of his cloak and held it up to sparkle in the sunlight. The etchings of Dionysus, grapes, vines and naked couples entwined together made up the markings of the god’s drinking vessel.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” said Lysandra in awe, reaching out to touch it, but he pulled it away. A drop of wine clinging to the insides dripped out and landed on her hand. Without thinking, she brought her hand to her mouth and used her tongue to lick it off. Immediately she felt the warming between her thighs and the heaviness of her breasts. She looked to Zarek and thought he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. She reached out for him, wanting him, but he held her away.

“Don’t even think of coming near this goblet.”

“I’m not.” Her eyes drank in his physique. She had always known he was handsome, but today he seemed even more so. She couldn’t help but remember the way he looked when he walked the battlements with Sander wrapped in his arms. She couldn’t help thinking of the way he’d gotten the baby to be still for him and smile with his gibberish talk and silly antics. “You are a good father, Zarek, and I mean that.”

He turned slightly, his face solemn. “If I had thought you’d said that of your own accord, I’d be pleased. But since I know ’tis naught but the wine talking, I will ignore it.”

“I want you, Zarek. As the father of my baby.”

“I am already the father of your baby, Lysandra. You make no sense.” He bent down at the bank of the stream, taking water into his hand. “I’d better wash the poison from this cup before it makes you addlepated forever.”

He dunked the goblet into the stream and busied himself cleaning it thoroughly. She shook the queasiness from her head and walked over to join him. Laying a hand on his shoulder, she watched him look up at her with caution.

“I meant what I said,” she answered softly. “Something inside has changed since last night. Once the lust was pushed aside, I could see you for who you really are. That is, a wonderful man who would make a much better parent to Sander than I ever would.”

“You don’t mean that. By tomorrow you’ll be cursing me again and telling me I know nothing about being a parent.”

“Listen to me, Zarek. You asked me to be honest with my feelings for you, and though it’s taken the wine of lust to give me the courage, I am telling you how I feel. I know an Amazon is not a good example for the next king of Thrace. But you can raise our baby to be strong, yet have morals and qualities that will demand the respect of the people of Thrace.”

“I’m not sure that’s true, Lysandra. You said yourself I’m nothing more than a thief in the night. What kind of an example is that to our baby?”

“But you want to change, Zarek. I can see that now. You want the best for our baby, and so do I. Take the goblet, Zarek, and bring it to Artemis. I want you to win this challenge. You deserve it. But just promise me when you make your wish it will be to get Sander back.”

“Lysandra, what are you saying?” He stood, the cup dripping with water from the stream.

“I don’t want your people to die because of all this. Bring the goblet to Artemis to save their lives. Show your people that you really are the hero they think you are. I’ve seen the way you hold our baby and care for him. I see the love in your eyes and know you will give to Sander what I cannot.”

Zeus’s thunderbolts cracked through the sky, and the rain trickled down around them.

“Lysandra…” he reached out to her, but she held out her hand.

“I’ve made up my mind, Zarek. I’ll not fight you any more. Sander is better off with you. You’ll make a wonderful father.”

“But what about you, Lysandra? Where will you go? Back to the Amazons?”

She stayed silent for a moment, confusion clouding her brain. She wanted to go with him. Still, he wasn’t asking.

“I suppose that’s where I belong. You said yourself, it is all I know.”

“But what will you do when Artemis brings her wrath upon your tribe when you lose the challenge?”

“They are Amazons and much more capable of defending themselves than the people of Thrace.”

“So you are saying you’re just going to let them die?”

“I’m saying we will fight and have a better chance of surviving than the people of Thrace. We are warriors. Somehow we will survive. The Amazons started all this, and that’s where it will end. I’ve always been taught to finish what I start, and so I will.” She wiped a tear from her eye, hoping he didn’t notice, and walked to her horse.

“Lysandra,” he said, coming up behind her. “I’m sorry. But you know I have to do what’s best for our son, as well as for my people.”

Somehow she had thought he would object. Or at least try to make her change her mind. He did neither.

“I’m not asking you to do any different. Now please leave, Zarek, before I change my mind.”

“Let me hold you once more before you go, Lysandra. I want one last memory of our time together.”

“No,” she said, denying him even though she wanted to comply. But if she held him again, she would never want him to leave her side. She turned her head and looked out over the water, and spoke to him without looking directly at him. She squeezed her eyes shut and said the words that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “I give you Sander to remember me by. Treat him well, and when he grows up, promise me you’ll tell him nothing of his Amazon mother.”

“I can’t promise you that,” came his voice from behind her. The rain came down heavier, and she shivered in the cold. He placed his cloak around her shoulders and wrapped her in his embrace one last time, with a kiss upon her head. Then, with neither of them speaking, he helped her to mount her horse. Her body weak under the feel of his hands on her, she let him do it.

With one last look that would be embedded upon her mind for the rest of her life, her eyes interlocked with his, and she found solace deep within his golden orbs, just to know her son would be safe and well taken care of while in King Zarek’s care.