Medusa's Desire (The Fate of Eros #1) (The Fate of Eros Series) (19 page)

Not to mention that she had gotten him aroused and then left him alone with Andromeda. That could backfire. What if he took out his sexual frustration on her instead? What if he abandoned her in this room?

He entered a short while later, breathless. "I got here as soon as I could. You have no idea how torturous it was to wait until I could calm down enough to stand without showing everyone my erection."

She smiled.

He stood still and listened. She laughed at the look of concentration on his face.

"What are you doing?" Medusa asked.

"I can hear you breathing and shifting in place when we're in a quiet room. I wanted to surprise you by figuring out where you were standing, tackling you and then ravishing you before you spoke a word."

"Oh?" Medusa raised one of her eyebrows. "That sounds nice."

He grabbed her by the waist and kissed the sensitive spots on her neck. Their lips met and their bodies sizzled as their passion struggled to find its release. Medusa pulled his hair gently.

"You know what else would be nice?" Perseus asked.

Both of them were panting when they pulled apart. Medusa could hardly think straight enough to comprehend his question. "What?"

He kissed her on each cheek and then on her forehead. "Why don't you take your helmet off?"

Medusa jerked away and Perseus frowned. Her heart was pounding. "Why?"

"I want to be able to see you." He paused between words to peck her on the mouth.

She parted her lips, wishing for his tongue to enter inside the next time he kissed her. "You do realize that my curse prevents that from being possible, right?"

Perseus moaned and nibbled on Medusa's lower lip. "I want to see the woman I am making love to."

Was Perseus getting more delusional by the second? "You'll turn into stone." Medusa ripped off Perseus' robes.

"That's not what I mean." His clothing fell to the ground with a plop. His hardness sprang free, ready to be attended to. "I want to make love to you from behind while I gaze at you in the mirror. I can't stare at your face, but there's nothing that prevents me from admiring your body when I look down."

Medusa remembered how she had almost turned herself into stone gazing at her own expression and her stomach twisted into knots.

The whole thing made her feel so vulnerable, too. He had never seen her real body. He'd stroked her scales, but that wasn't the same thing. What if he didn't like what he saw?

More than anything she wished he could look at the real her and fall in love all over again, but doubted it would go that way.

He planted a kiss on her lips, warming her body and sending butterflies into her lower abdomen. She struggled to think straight as she imagined him filling her up again between her thighs.

He picked her up in his arms, exercising his power to make her feel beautiful and dainty where she usually felt repulsive. He carried her with such ease that it was as if she weighed only as much as a feather.

He set her down in front of the full-length silver mirror in the room. He pressed his body against her back and nuzzled her neck with his lips. She ran her hands through his soft hair as the strength of his muscles aroused her.

He nibbled on her ear and bliss forced her to close her eyes and stop gazing at his glorious form. She could see all of him because she was invisible. It looked as if he was kissing the air.

He grabbed the helmet that rested on top of her head and slowly peeled it off. She wanted to fight him, but was paralyzed by her lust.

"Open your eyes." His breath in her ear was warm and made her wet.

The curvy body of the old her greeted her in the mirror, this time not pregnant. He stroked her breasts and between her thighs. Her blue eyes widened as she was overtaken by him. His caresses grew more fervent as their eyes met in the mirror.

"Look at you," he murmured. "No one else can compare."

She blushed, even though his words stung. Her snakes whirled around their heads and she pretended that she had the same silky blonde hair as before and it was just blowing slightly in the breeze. It made her wonder whether he had ever truly made love to the real her.

She covered his eyes and turned around. She forced him to face the wall. She grabbed a pillowcase from the bed and placed it on his head. He laughed, trying to pull it off. She held it down.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Compromising," she whispered. "I won't wear my helmet this time, but you can't watch."

She lifted the pillowcase lightly, so she could take his lips in hers before he could protest. His lips were so soft against hers that she envied them, wishing she could be soft all over as they were. She grabbed his length and he moaned, too enraptured to argue.

"Next time, we'll do it my way," Perseus said.

She whirled him around and pinned him down on the bed. She kissed up and down his chest. She wondered what Perseus thought of when he made love to her. She remembered the look of awe on his face as he met her eyes in the mirror. Suddenly, she wasn't jealous of Andromeda, but of her old self. That girl had captured Perseus' attention and it was who he probably imagined when he made love to her. It wasn't the real her-it was almost as if he was cheating.

She positioned herself on top of him, knowing she should pull away. She closed her eyes as their bodies became one. Maybe she could find some way to reverse the curse, and then she'd be the woman he truly loved.

Their bodies grew sweaty as they thrust against each other. Medusa loved the physical strain; it let her work out her frustrations without having to speak them out loud. Her body convulsed in pleasure, forcing the thoughts out of her head. Perseus cried out, barely able to contain his enjoyment. His sexy moans fueled her desire and soon she was taken over the edge. They both climaxed and she collapsed on top of him.

Perseus reached over where they dropped the invisibility helmet on the bed and helped her place it on her head. He didn't seem tired. His eyes were wide with excitement as he pulled off the pillowcase.

He wandered to the endless wallet. Medusa watched him from the bed. He pulled out a pencil and paper. He sat next to her and started to sketch across the page.

Medusa stroked his thigh. He was still nude. "What are you doing?"

"Putting my heart down on paper, so I'll never forget this moment."

Medusa's heart lurched. "I didn't know you could draw."

Perseus laughed. "We're Greeks. Isn't it my second job to capture the beauty and goodness of the world through art?"

"What are you drawing?" Medusa whispered. For some reason she felt nervous, but she wasn't sure why.

"You'll see."

His brow furrowed and Medusa contented herself with watching him. She had no idea how much time had passed.

His pencil stroked across the page with a flourish and a smile spread across his face. "It's not perfect, but do you want a look?"

"Yes." More than anything she wanted to see into his heart and understand his thoughts better.

He spun the paper around. "It's a picture of you."

It was the head of the beautiful woman in the mirror, the one he thought he made love to. Medusa frowned, but tried to keep the sorrow out of her voice. "It's wonderful."

This was proof. He didn't love the true her and probably never could. She wondered how much time she had left until she lost him.

The castle filled with guests as people arrived all night. The inns were full. It became so crowded that the lower class were forced to sleep in the ballroom on hay. The rotating sleeping arrangements and loud greetings made too much noise to rest.

Perseus paced. He wasn't helping Medusa get any shut-eye either. His eyebrows scrunched together and he mumbled to himself. She wondered what he was stressing about.

She wrapped her arms around him. "You know that you don't have to compete in the Games if you don't want to, right?"

"It's impolite not to accept an invitation."

Medusa shook her head. "They have plenty of people competing already. No one will notice or care if you don't participate."

"I have given my word; I can't back out now, but I have a bad feeling about it."

Medusa stroked Perseus' cheek lovingly. "Well, then don't do it."

Perseus sighed. "If it were only that easy. I can't fail them."

Medusa frowned, realizing that Perseus spent too much time trying to prove himself. When he needed help rescuing his mother, he hadn't asked the gods-they had offered it. When he saw Andromeda in danger, he rescued her and took care of her when others might have abandoned her. He volunteered to compete in the Olympic Games just because someone suggested it. Most of all, when he found a lonely cursed woman-Medusa-he fell in love with her and offered to fight the gods in order to save her.

He hadn't been frightened by Phineas' threats or the monsters of the underworld like a normal person-he was afraid of not living up to his own high expectations.

Medusa stroked his soft brown curls. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." His voice was short and sharp. He wasn't fine. "I just need to win tomorrow."

"You've already proved yourself to a lot of people," Medusa said. "Both Andromeda and I think of you as a hero."

"It's not enough."

She grasped Perseus by the shoulder to comfort him, but he whirled around, the muscles in his face tightened as if he was prepared to fight. He relaxed. "I'm sorry. I'm on edge."

Perseus dropped to the ground and did a few push-ups.

"Why are you doing that?" Medusa asked.

"I'm training."

Medusa crossed her arms. "I doubt it will make much difference. Sleep will do you more good."

He paused and sat up, glaring at her. "You do realize that I will be up against younger men who have been training for years in hopes of winning this event."

"No one expects you to do anything but give your best effort."

Perseus' eyes flashed. "You don't get it, do you? All the things I've accomplished thus far are lies. People think I killed you, but the truth is, you're living with me and invisible. You're the one who saved Andromeda, not me. You'll probably be the one to rescue my mother because I can't fight all King Polydectes' guards by myself.

"I've spent my whole life being told that the one thing the gods predicted about me was that I would betray and murder someone in my family." His voice broke. "I want to be an honorable man and for everyone to see that I could never harm someone for selfish reasons. This is one of the few opportunities I have to prove on my own that I am strong."

"They're just games." Medusa knew her words were falling on deaf ears.

"Maybe to you." Perseus returned to his push-ups. "To me, they're proof of whether or not I have what it takes to be a man that would make my grandfather proud."

He paced the room and did sit-ups the whole night while Medusa watched silently from the corner.

*** *** ***

The stadium was filled the next day. Andromeda had been disappointed she couldn't come along, but Carius' sisters seemed like the type of young women she'd have a lot in common with. Medusa was happy that she could fly and didn't need a seat or she may not have been able to watch at all.

A few kings and princes who had traveled far sat in a box seat with the king of Larissa. She memorized their faces, so Perseus could introduce Andromeda to some of them later. Andromeda had all the advantage in the world to marry a handsome, rich man and get out of Medusa's life. She just needed a push.

Medusa hated to admit it, but she actually had quite a bit in common with Andromeda. They both refused to settle for anything less than love and their hearts were not easily won over–in addition to the whole being punished by the gods because of what their mother's had done thing. Medusa would help her find someone that was satisfactory. She had no reason to resent Andromeda when she was about to get rid of her.

Wrestlers lined up and practiced in the ring, while the crowd cheered. They were naked, but Medusa had eyes only for Perseus. His muscles glistened from the olive oil they had rubbed over him. His dark eyes were narrowed in determination and his skin was tan from all the traveling they'd done. He was the most beautiful one there.

Medusa was starving. In fact, she had felt more hungry than usual lately, while at the same time nauseous. The slaves had served breakfast in the dining hall, but vegetables weren't part of the morning spread.

A man and his son were munching from a satchel of vegetables. She waited until they turned and then stole a few from inside. Most of them were carrots, which were too sweet for her taste.

Medusa watched the people more than she watched the wrestling. The fathers and sons reminded her of the family she left behind. She had been so young with a lot of potential in front of her and now it was gone.

She didn't pay close attention to what happened in front until the long jump, javelin throw, and discus throw came up. Perseus was competing in those. She winced as she saw a discus sail. His competitors were strong! She could still throw farther than them, but was pretty sure after Perseus' speech last night that he would resent her for doing so.

When Perseus' turn came, storm clouds formed in the distance. The sky had been so bright, but now the sun was dimming. The sound of thunder cracked across the arena. Medusa expected some of the children to squeal in terror, but no one reacted. They didn't seem at all concerned about the wind blowing so hard it was carrying the storm clouds towards them at a faster rate than what seemed possible. The Olympics went on no matter what.

Having lived in an arid desert for far too long, Medusa had missed the rain. She remembered lush Athens and how everything smelled mustier right after a storm. The smell signaled the beginning of new life, but something about this storm was ominous. Medusa's heart pounded.

Perseus' biceps flexed as he stretched his arm back to launch the discus. It fell a foot short of the person with the top score. Sweat and perspiration was heavy on Perseus' brow, but everyone cheered. He had two more chances to win.