Deep Water (20 page)

No, that wouldn’t do at all. He was here
to seduce her, not frighten her. He spread his arms as if embracing the night.
“I heard the good news, my sweet,” he said expansively. “Amphitrite and I have
finally found our third mate, our
agapetos
.
And you are indeed a creature of rare beauty and delicacy. I thank the Fates
for bringing you to us,
Melusine
.”

The girl frowned at that. “Medusa, my
lord. Really, this is not a good place for us to meet.”

“Oh, tut.” Poseidon glanced around at the
courtyard walls. He could open a portal to one of his temples, but it would
certainly be noticed by Athena. That was the last thing he wanted. “I’m sure
Athena wouldn’t mind too much.” He reached out into empty air and pulled back a
small amphora and two golden cups that looked silver in the moonlight. “Let us
toast to our meeting, my sweet, and all the happy years the three of us will
spend together.”

Medusa tugged the length of linen more
tightly around her. “Where is the lady Amphitrite, my lord? Will she be coming
here soon?”

“I certainly hope so.” And that was honest
enough. “I suppose we’ll just have to wait,
hm
?” He
unsealed the amphora and poured its rich contents into the cups, offering one
to Medusa. “Shall we have a drink while we’re waiting?”

The girl pressed her lips together
nervously, but accepted the proffered cup. “All right,” she said. “Just one
drink, though, my lord. It’s late, and I have to get up early for the morning
rites.”

“Excellent. Such a good girl you are, so
dedicated. Athena is lucky to have you as her handmaiden.” Poseidon winked at
her as he lifted his own cup to the heavens. “A toast to our happiness,” he
said.

“To our happiness.” She took a cautious
sip, her expression relaxing slightly as she tasted the wine. Poseidon drank
deeply from his own cup, savoring its contents. The wine was an excellent
vintage to begin with, one of Bythos’s better finds, and the nectar he’d added
to it gave it a pleasant undertone that warmed him to his toes. The addition of
the gods’ own liqueur would be guaranteed to settle any lingering doubts Medusa
had about him.

And in fact she smiled now, taking another
sip and licking her lips afterward. “This is quite wonderful, my lord,” she
said. “It feels like it’s bubbling through every part of me.”

“I’m glad it pleases you, my dear.”
Poseidon reached out and called forth a soft blanket, directing it to spread
itself in the corner of the courtyard under one of the battleaxe’s interminable
olive trees. He sat down, making himself comfortable. “Sit with me a moment,”
he said, patting the cloth. “I’m afraid I’ve had quite the evening and I’m
somewhat fatigued.”

Medusa obeyed, walking somewhat unsteadily
to the blanket and seating herself at his side. “This really is excellent
wine,” she mumbled into her cup.

“Yes, my son Bythos is quite proud of his
cellar, and generous with his better amphorae.” Poseidon took another deep
draft from his cup, smacking his lips appreciatively. “What a beautiful night,
eh? The stars shining overhead, not a cloud in sight. Absolutely perfect.”

“Yes, it is.” She gazed up at the spangled
lights caught in the web of the heavens, smiling at something that caught her
notice. “Oh, look. There’s Orion.”

“Where?” The god arched his neck, staring
into the sky. “Oh, yes. Hello, son.”

Medusa blinked at that. “Orion was your
son?”

“You’ve never heard the story? His mother
was Euryale—one of the Gorgons, you know.”

Medusa shuddered. “But I thought the
Gorgons are horrible monsters. How could you lie with one?”

“Oh, Euryale had her charms. And it wasn’t
like she was your namesake. Even I couldn’t bring myself to bed with that
horror.” He sighed as he looked up at the bright constellation. “It was before
I’d met Amphitrite, of course. Orion was one of the finest hunters ever born, a
sure shot with spear, arrow, or slingshot. He once slew a giant bull with his
bare hands. I was quite proud of him.”

Medusa gazed at the sky, face open and
awestruck. “What happened to him, lord?”

“Oh, he was foolish. Proud of his skills
as a hunter, he boasted that he would kill every animal on earth. My
grandmother Gaia heard of this, and in her rage sent a scorpion to kill him.
The little beast stung him, and he almost died, but Asclepius the Healer was
kind enough to bring him an antidote that rid him of the scorpion’s venom and
restored him to life. Unfortunately his great-grandmother was still vengeful
towards him, so I had him placed in the heavens to protect him.” The god leaned
back on his hands, staring up at the starry form of his lost son. “He was a
good boy, Orion. Just a bit boastful.”

Medusa frowned. “But that would have been
horrible, to kill all the animals on earth. Why would he even have wanted to do
such a thing?”

“Well, boys will be boys.” Things were
taking far too serious a turn for Poseidon’s liking. He picked up the flagon
and poured more nectar-laced wine into her cup. “Drink up, my dear,” he said.
“The wine will keep you warm.”

“‘M not cold.” But she drank the wine
anyway. “Shouldn’t we go find
Ammie
?”

“Soon.” Poseidon brushed a curl off her
shoulder and watched her shiver at the sensation. “You are so lovely, with skin
like ivory and eyes the color of richest
sard
.”

Medusa giggled. “How can you see that, my
lord? The starlight makes everything black and white.”

“Not to a god. I would see you in fullest
color even if we were in the darkness of the Underworld itself.” Poseidon
picked up her hand it up and brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Your hair is
the color of forest earth, and your lips are the palest, pinkest coral.”

She blushed at the compliments. “Thank
you, lord. And you are quite … massive.” She giggled again.

Poseidon beamed at her words. “Any male
would kill for such words from his lady love. And you haven’t even seen me
undressed yet,” he said, waggling his eyebrows in a comical manner.

She goggled at him for a moment, then
burst into a silver peal of laughter. “
Ammie
said the
bull was well chosen as your sacred animal,” she chortled, trying to take
another sip of wine in mid-laugh. The heady liquor slopped out of her cup,
spilling down the front of her towel. “Oh, poo. Look what you’ve made me do.”

“My apologies, my dearest,” Poseidon said
indulgently. “Allow me to make things right.”

He pulled a damp cloth out of the air.
With the strange precision that came from this level of inebriation, he mopped
at the stains over her breasts.

Medusa looked down at his hand as if he
was washing someone else. “You’re not supposed to touch me there,” she said, hiccupping
softly. “’S against
m’lady’s
rules.” Her eyes drifted
closed, a dreamy smile crossing her face. “But it’s nice.
Ammie
did that, too.”

The sea god felt his eyebrows rise at
that. “Oh, did she?” he said lightly. “And what else did my lovely consort do
to you?”

“Kissed me. Touched me.”

The innocent passion in her voice went
straight to his cock. “Where?” Poseidon breathed, acutely aware of the
thickening beneath his chiton.

“Everywhere. My face, my neck, my breasts.
Between my legs. It was wonderful.” Eyes still closed, Medusa was definitely
swaying back and forth now. “I hope she gets here soon. I want her to touch me
again.”

“I can touch you like that. I can make you
feel wonderful.”

“Mm.” Medusa fell back onto the blanket, the
cup tumbling from her hand as her slender limbs lay splayed in welcome.

It was all the invitation Poseidon
required. With a thought he made her towel disappear. Her lithe young body was something
he wanted to gorge upon, with its innocent breasts and soft triangle of curls
at the apex of her thighs. She tossed her head like a child in sleep, lips
pursing once before going slack again.

He shed his own clothes just as quickly, crawling
over her and nudging her thighs open with a knee until he could lie between
them. Gripping his cock, he rubbed the head of it between her vaginal lips,
relishing the heat he could feel there. She wasn’t wet yet, but that would
happen soon enough.

With a grunt, he thrust into her.
Something delicate resisted him for a moment, then snapped under his onslaught.
Her eyes flew open, as did her mouth. Instinctively he clapped a hand over her
lips, smothering her cry. “Hush now,” he ordered.

Dark eyes stared up at him, growing
glassy. He removed his hand, claiming his first kiss. Her lips tasted of wine
and nectar, and he feasted on them.

She tore her mouth away, turning her head
from him. Still so shy. That was all right. He pulled out, then thrust again,
causing her to gasp.

“Please, my lord, no,” she whimpered.
“Stop, please. Please.”

So modest, so shy. “So lovely,” he mumbled
in her ear, starting a rolling movement that sank him deep into her sweet
furrow. Her fluids finally began to flow and he was able to thrust freely,
chasing his pleasure.

All too soon, he felt his orgasm rise.
With a muffled grunt he shot his seed into her, groaning at the tight warmth
surrounding him. It wasn’t like Amphitrite—there was no internal fluttering of
her muscles milking him deliciously, no arms and legs twining around him, no
low, purring voice in his ear urging him on. But still, the pleasure was enough
to wipe his consciousness clean, making him see stars.

He sagged down on the girl, hearing her
breathless squeak. He just needed to rest a moment, and then he would see to
her pleasure. Just a moment…

In seconds he was snoring.

****

He woke up when something hard thudded
into his ribs, sending pain knifing through his chest. “Wake up, you fool!” an
enraged voice commanded. Another kick, harder this time.

Who on earth or Olympus would dare to
kick
him? Groaning, Poseidon rolled onto
his back, squinting up at the dark shape looming overhead. After a bit it
resolved into Amphitrite. A very angry Amphitrite.

He caught a third kick, pushing her foot
away. She stumbled backwards, still glaring at him. “How could you?” she
hissed. “How
could
you, husband?”

How could he what? Smacking his lips against
the foul taste in his mouth, Poseidon tried to think. He’d been drinking with
Zeus and Dionysus the night before, yes, and then he’d run into Aphrodite. And
she told him…

He blinked, glancing around at the
sun-filled courtyard, and the olive tree overhead. The very stones radiated
Athena’s presence. He was in one of the inner parts of her handmaidens’
compound.

A sense of unease threaded through his
hangover. He’d gone there to meet the maiden Aphrodite had declared was his
agapetos
. An image of a slender body and
huge brown eyes came to mind.

Huge brown eyes, filled with tears as they
stared up at him…

He shied from the thought. “Wife,” he
croaked. “Fetch me some water.”

“Fetch it yourself,” Amphitrite snarled.
“How could you give an innocent girl nectar? You know how it muddles mortal
minds! And then once she was unable to fight back you took her like a whore on
the floor of a courtyard! Our own
agapetos
!”

His thoughts came more easily now. Meeting
the girl, plying her with wine, her sleepy welcome to him. “But she wanted me,”
he managed.

“She didn’t want you!” Amphitrite roared
at him. “You egotistical fool! She passed out from your tainted wine! And then
you held your hand over her mouth and raped her.” She kicked him again on the
last word and he grunted from the impact.

He rolled out of kicking range, trying to
think. Had he held a hand over the girl’s mouth? He dimly remembered not
wanting to attract Athena’s notice and spoil their fun. And he’d intended to
pleasure Medusa afterwards, he had. She wasn’t just another nymph or maiden,
good for a tumble and nothing else, he
knew
that.

But the combination of wine, nectar, and
sexual pleasure had been too strong, even for him. He’d fallen asleep, probably
crushing the air out of the poor girl in the process.

He shook his head like a bull, trying to
dispel the thought. He hadn’t
raped
Medusa. She was his
agapetos
. That
was just … he couldn’t have…

Had he?

He looked up truculently at his wife,
ready to roll back if she tried to kick him again. “Is she angry?”

“Is she—” Amphitrite’s very aura blazed
with rage. “Yes, Poseidon. I would say she is very angry. As am I. As is
Athena, for that matter.”

He winced. It would be Troy all over again
unless he acted quickly. “Very well,” he said, grimacing. “What penance do I
have to pay?”

Amphitrite’s mouth opened slightly before
she regained control.
 
“Do you not
understand what you did?” she said, biting each word off. “There is no penance
that you can pay that would restore Medusa’s maidenhead, or her trust. You
destroyed that with your drunken lechery.”