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“Now I’m going to tie your wrists to the bed.”
“But why?” she asked, in full voice. He put a finger over her lips.
“Don’t you see? It’s to spite Poseidon, who ordered you chained to that rock to be ravished by his Cetus.”
“Is it safe to spite him?”
“I’m a son of Zeus,” he said. “He’d never dare try anything against me. My father wouldn’t allow it. Poseidon must know he has no power over you anymore. No one else does but I.”
From no other man would she believe such boasting. But she had seen herself today the miracle of his winged horse, the wonder of his defeat of the Cetus.
“As you say,” she said softly.
He untied the cord from around her hips and it was the work of mere seconds before he had her wrists bound to the bar of the bed.
“I’ll tell you a secret,” he said, “if you promise to tell no one.”
“I’ll tell no one.”
“No one has power over you but I,” he repeated. “And no one has power over me but my father.” He kissed her. “And you.”
“I? Power over you? How so?”
“You wish to find out?”
“More than anything. Tell me my powers.”
“You have the power to render me speechless,” he said.
“Do I?”
Perseus smiled tenderly down at her. Then he pulled her gown down to her waist and looked longingly at her naked breasts.
He said nothing.
“Ah,” she said. “I do have power over you.”
He still said nothing. He met her eyes and kept her gaze as he lowered his head to kiss the tip of her breast. She inhaled as his tongue touched the nipple, froze in something like fear when he drew it into his mouth. He sucked her gently at first and then harder. He made a sound, a quiet moan, and she felt the power over him again. She tried to hold him and remembered her tied wrists and his power over her. He was tongue-tied. She was hand-tied. They were equal, then. What a wonder.
He moved on top of her and drew her gown all the way off her body. She lay naked under him. This was a thing that she knew happened to brides, that their husbands would undress them. And she’d feared it all her life. But Perseus had already seen her naked on the rock today. She feared nothing anymore. And certainly not him.
Never him.
Perseus touched her between her legs and his fingers quickly found the place, the little hole where she bled from. He rubbed it with his fingertips, and she was surprised to find she wanted that. His mouth moved over her breasts again and again while his fingers plied the hole until it had opened up for him. He pressed his knees wide, forcing her thighs to part and the hole opened up even more for him. He took himself in hand and pressed his manhood into the furrow of her flesh.
He didn’t enter her, though she’d braced herself for it. Instead he rubbed her with his organ, rubbed along that seam. It seemed he was working himself into some sort of frenzy. His hips moved quickly against her and though he still didn’t enter her, she felt as if this was the moment she’d been waiting for and warned about. With his hands on either side of her and his head resting between her breasts, he pushed against her. She hadn’t known it would feel like this—good. More than good. She didn’t want it to end, though it seemed to be reaching a sort of finale. As his organ slid through the folds of her body, she grew wet and then wetter and the little knot of tissue that ached sometimes when she lay alone in bed...it swelled and throbbed. She caught herself moving under him and with him, seeking more than he was giving her. When she released a hoarse moan, Perseus placed his hand over her mouth. Yes, of course. Silence. They might have people still listening in the hall. And she didn’t want them to hear what they did. This was for their ears alone. And her ears heard sweet sounds—Perseus and his quiet rough breathing, her own breaths hitching in her throat, the slight movement of the bed under them and her heart in her ears, her wild beating heart.
Perseus pushed himself off her, and she didn’t know what was happening until he grasped his organ in his hand and pressed the head of it into her. Only the head and then only barely. Enough to pinch a little or tear but not enough to really hurt.
She watched him, fascinated, as he shuddered without moving. Something was happening. She felt even more wetness than before on her. He sighed long, long, long, until it seemed like he’d sighed the very breath from his bones.
Then it was over. He lay at her side, his head on her breast. His organ rested on her hip, soft now and dripping. She shifted her legs slightly and felt liquid between them.
Ah, he had entered her but a little and released his seed inside her, filled her up with it. And she was now very, very wet.
“I have an ocean between my legs,” she said. “Or a river.”
“Ocean, definitely,” Perseus said. “Salt water.”
