A subtle mmm emerged from her throat, the exact meaning he couldn’t decipher, but the intent clear enough.
Especially when she dug her fingernails in one buttock and urged him closer. Ever closer. Which only made his head spin because he hadn’t even realized she’d clutched him there. But Zeus was happy to comply, lurching forward to join the tip of his cock with her waiting mouth.
As long as he lived, he would never forget the precious moments of agonized anticipation. The sight of her tongue-slicked lips opening wide to encase part of his body…
The sublime ecstasy once the moment was realized.
The experience of watching his dagger, his bodkin, his penis, phallus, pr-prick—to use her terms—disappear past her lips…
The feel of the tongue he’d only barely begun to taste now tasting him. Licking, if not with skill, then with artless abandon.
Her touch bathed away every lingering hurt, physical and emotional. She made him a new man.
When her motions altered from licking and exploring to sucking, to drawing him so deeply, so fiercely, inside Zeus felt the wash of acceptance in every particle of his being, he worried he was about to embarrass himself—again.
And that would never do.
He slipped his hand from beneath hers and brought both to her temples. Tunneling his fingers through her hair, he took hold of her scalp and gently pulled her head back.
Open-mouthed, she released him and his nearly sucked-dry staff emerged, red and thick and shining from her depths.
Blazes! He wanted to thrust back inside and come for a sennight.
Had to do something quick before the stirring in his ballocks came spewing out on another unplanned, ungallant display.
She gazed up at him in the darkening room, face flushed, hair in a tangle over the arm of the settee. “Why?” It was a whisper. “Why did you stop me? I believe I found it rather enjoyable.” And sounded totally surprised by that admission.
“Because, my sweet, ’tis your turn now.”
“My turn?”
While she was all soft and subdued and submissive, he took up her hand and scooted backward, trailing their intertwined fingers over one beaded breast, past the thin muslin gathered at her waist, and to her naked abdomen. Where he paused. Waited. Then said huskily, “It’s your turn to touch yourself.”
“Zeus. I don’t…” She protested halfheartedly, but she didn’t fight him when he guided her hand the rest of the way to the juncture of her legs.
Didn’t do anything more than give a slight wiggle to her hips, a little sigh of surrender.
“Here now, we’ll do it together.” Zeus allowed her a moment. When she slowly nodded, he worked her fingertips just inside the swollen folds. Then, with his fingers still directing hers, he fluttered them up and down.
Though the nails that had seized his arse earlier now clutched at his shoulder, she didn’t shy away. Not from him nor the sensations he wrought forth, the hitch to her breath, the flinching of her pelvis, both indicating how receptive, how responsive she was.
“I— Oh!”
At the awkwardness that threatened when she touched a part of her body she’d only before ever grazed through a washing cloth, Juliet admonished herself. There was no need to freeze, to fear the unknown. Not anymore. Because it was Zeus taking her there. Showing her something new.
Showing her…
As the fury outside waned, stormy day turning to peaceful night, the tempest inside wept harder and understanding dawned. “I’m wet! Slick…” Sticky and wanton and yearning for your possession.
“You are indeed.” He released her hand but kept up the sensuous torture with his own. “Dampened.”
“Your…dampening ‘praiseworthy actions’.”
“Exactly. Your body preparing the way for mine.”
And with that he leaned in between her thighs for the most intimate of kisses. After plying her with several, Juliet comprehended. “Your delightful tongue!”
“Mmmm.”
Her hips bucked against his mouth and she embraced the rolling waves that grew with each languid lick and furious flick. She craved that other part of him though. The one she’d just touched and tasted. And was now ready to claim for her own. “Zeus?”
“Hmm?”
“Would you bring your conversational skills to my mouth?”
He raised his head to murmur, “Aye, my lady.”
With one last lingering kiss to her core, he drifted up her body and nudged her lips open. Acquainting her with her own flavor, he seduced her all over again.
As her tongue chased his, Zeus stroked his hand down her cleft and smeared her essence over his shaft. Fisting the thick column, he placed his crown to her curls and glided along her swollen folds, skimming over the entrance and the tiny nub he’d coaxed earlier, until he heard her breath catch, felt her teeth sink into his tongue.
Knowing he’d found the place and pressure, the exact nuance between tantalize and tease she needed to gain release, he continued caressing her with his cock and (once he’d retracted his tongue) charming her with words and whispers. She writhed beneath him, and just when concern over her injured leg prodded him, she whimpered once and melted into the settee. Her moan of sublime satisfaction breezing past his ears.
Recognizing how being with this woman made him richer than possessing any amount of money or property, Zeus inched his fingers from his excessively patient erection and spread her open. He eased inside the snug, welcoming passage that rippled around him, pausing once in place to bring his face to hers.
Resting on his elbows above her, his body shaking with the continued effort of restraint, Zeus stared into her eyes. “My lady, my wife.”
At her nod, he thrust home, past the final resistance and into her heart.
“Juliet?” Wivy’s voice intruded some time later, reluctantly it sounded to Juliet, through the locked door. A trio of sharp raps followed. “Juliet! I so regret disturbing you, but we have visitors. More precisely, you have visitors.”
“Visitors?” The man beside her roused himself to murmur. She saw his eyes blink open to startlingly swift realization of their surroundings.
Ensconced snugly in his arms, Juliet had been watching Zeus sleep. Awash