by Lucy Auburn
Whatever Damien is involved in, it sounds tricky.
This might be my best chance to get out of here, though. Before it's too late. Before I catch Ares' long gaze and he remembers what I've done.
"Your offer is appreciated," I tell him, setting the scrubs aside. "But I'm not quite ready to escape from prison yet. There's one errand I have to do first."
"What is it—a mani pedi? We don't have time!" His voice is rough, irritated. "Mora, just listen to me already and do as I—"
Instead of responding, I stalk over to him, slide to my knees, and grab onto his belt buckle. Glancing up at him from beneath my long lashes, noting the heat splashing his neck and cheeks, I tell Damien, "I want to taste you before I leave this place."
"That's not—you don't—you shouldn't—"
"I can feel your arousal," I tell him, palming his cock through the black uniform he's wearing. He shifts, trying to subside his erection, but I shift my fingers with it and curl them around its bulge. "It wouldn't take long. Especially with you in this state... all full of adrenaline. I'm not leaving without doing this. So you get to pick: will you insist on acting like you're not attracted to me, and leave me behind to be culled by Ares, or give in to your own desire?"
Damien's mouth turns down unhappily, even as his breath quickens, heat blossoming across his skin. "You shouldn't touch me. It isn't safe."
"Why?" I tilt my head up at him curiously. "Somehow I doubt I'll choke to death on your cock. If I did, though, what a wonderful way to die."
He makes a distressed sound, the bulge against my fingers growing. I smirk at the thought of his mortal mind imagining his cock choking me, and know it's made him hard. In a low voice he murmurs, "My Ares gift—it isn't safe. Sometimes it... acts out."
"Well then. I've been warned." Unbuckling his belt, I slide it off and drop it to the ground, raising my brows at him. "And I still want to find out what god hunter tastes like on my tongue. I want to see you give in to my touch and release yourself inside me."
"I haven't told you half of what I'm keeping from you..."
"This is about lust, Damien." Tugging on his waistband, I tell him, "I'm not saying I trust you or care about you. Just that I want your cock. I'm a demigod, after all. I can separate the two. But we don't have much time. So—are you going to let yourself come inside me like I know you want, or do you have another objection?"
"I—I can't think of one."
A helpless expression crosses his face, which pleases me. There's no kind of power quite like being on your knees in front of a lover as their lust for your body overwhelms them. It's why I like dirty talk so much, especially when it comes to uptight men like Damien.
I'm telling him the truth when I say I don't trust him. Jasper's note wasn't necessary for that. He's been helpful to me here—once I'm out of this place, I'll figure out why—but I draw the line at growing close to someone who's deepest, darkest secrets I don't know.
Trusting him is out of the question.
I'll suck his cock though.
Especially because I can feel how close I am to having it all: enough power within me to take off the cuffs and escape. I might even be able to use a little of what I've taken from Vesuvius, Jasper, poor Leo, and now Damien. The edge of their godblood flowing through me makes promises.
Damien's breathing quickens and sharpens as I unzip his pants and pull them down to his knees. He's wearing tight black athletic briefs that pull his bulge against one thigh, hiding its true size and hardness, though his arousal is unmistakable. Skimming my mouth across his skin, I pull his briefs down in one smooth motion and lick the shaft of his cock as it springs free.
He's already hard, his cock curving towards his belly, balls tight and heavy with desire. Licking my lips, I tongue his cock head, and enjoy the way his belly tightens and a moan leaves his mouth. Hesitantly, he puts a gloved hand on my head, coaxing me forward even as his body tightens with reluctance.
"I'm going to make you come quick," I tell him, looking up into his shame-reddened face. "I want you to let go, Damien. Fuck my throat. Pull my hair. Whatever you need to do to satisfy the desire you refuse to give into."
"It's not that easy."
"It will be when I've swallowed you whole."
Rising up, I lick my lips, then swipe my tongue across both my palms. I want this to be fast; there's no time for what Jasper and I just did, unfortunately, though I'd like to see if Ares' gifts give god hunters other abilities. No matter. Once will be enough, and with my mouth and tongue, I can make this uptight foolish man come whether he wants to or not.
And he clearly wants to. He groans as I take hold of his shaft and draw it into my mouth in one smooth motion, sucking my lips around his base as I open my throat and swallow him down. A helpless needy moan leaves his lips, and his hand tightens in my hair, body curving towards me.
I can feel his tension; his eyes keep darting towards the door. Can't have that. So I reach under and begin playing with his balls, needing their warmth as I pull his cock in and out of my mouth, sucking at it and slicking it up. He's thinking too hard still. There are footsteps near the door.
"Mora—we'll be caught, I shouldn't—"
Damien tries to pull himself out, so I grab his hips and swallow him down completely. Panting, he strokes inside me, clearly torn even as I suck him and play with his balls. So I add another trick to my repertoire, tonguing his shaft and looking up into his eyes, my hair falling back from my face.
As his green gaze meets mine, he gives in. Grabbing the back of my head, he angles his cock down towards my throat and starts to fuck me, hard. Little pants and groans leave his mouth as his cock head is forced down deep. I suck him and palm his balls through it, enjoying the expression of masculine pleasure on his face, how he seeks his release inside me.
His strokes go faster. I swallow and tighten my throat around him. And he shudders, fucking his cock balls deep inside me, his whole body tightening. His release is warm on the back of my throat. Pulling my head back, I taste him as he splashes onto my tongue, sucking lightly on his cock head. He watches me intently as I hold his shaft in one hand and keep him from pulling out entirely, wanting to drink and lick all of him.
His cum tastes strong and musky, like any man's. But his life force, which surges and shivers through him, is different. Something new. A little mortal, full of the whiff of death of mortal man, but with a bit of godhood on it. That must be his Ares' gift, although—I taste more than one celestial on him. A little of the clash of war, but something else as well, deep and rich and earthy.
"We shouldn't have done that," Damien says, watching me swallow, heat splashed across his neck. "I was stupid. It—it shouldn't have happened."
"It did." I lick his shaft as I pull his briefs back up, sighing at the sight of it going away. "If we had more time, I'd suck you hard again and ride you until you come inside me. Although—you did say it would be a few hours. How's your refractory period? I know you're a mortal, but even mortal men can get their cum-slick cocks hard again for me."
"Mora..."
Standing up, I press my body against him, staring him down. His hands raise helplessly towards me, landing on my lower back, his eyes closing as I press my clothed breasts against him and sway back and forth a little.
In a low voice, I suggest, "Watch me undress. I have to put those nurse scrubs on, after all. If you get hard again, well, you know what to do with it." Taking one of his hands, I pull on his glove. "I bet those fingers of yours—"
"No." He jerks back suddenly, putting a disappointing amount of air between us as he grabs for his pants and yanks them on. "I can't touch you, Mora. It's too dangerous. The gloves are there for a reason. Even what just happened..." Anxiously, he stares at me. "Does your throat hurt? Are you in any pain?"
I laugh at the anxiety on his face, reaching down to pull my top off and free my heavy breasts in a single motion. "Yours isn't the first cock I've swallowed, Damien. I didn't choke on it. Though if you'd like
that, there are other positions—one on my back especially—where you could watch your shaft move inside me." Thoughtfully, I tell him, "It is a very nice cock. Not just for a mortal man, but for any man. If I weren't about to escape this hellhole, I'd ask you if you could visit my cell sometime to show me what else you can do with it."
"That wouldn't be appropriate," he says stiffly, somehow managing to sound uptight and buttoned up even as I swallow the taste of his cum on my tongue. "All of this was inappropriate. It will never happen again."
"Sure it won't."
Pulling my pants off, I notice how he glances at my naked body—then looks away, stiffening, his collar brushing his hair. He grabs his belt off the ground and tugs it on resolutely even as I try turning around and wriggling my hips in his direction. I know he sees me, will probably lust after this moment for a long time, but he's determined not to give in again.
Maybe I waste his one good erection. Though I think he might manage to get another one up if I tease him some more. Wanting to escape still, I grab the scrubs, but pull them on slowly and sensuously, dragging my fingers across my skin as I do so. His eyes flick to me briefly when I pull the large top on and play with my breasts beneath it, a sign that he likes that, his throat bobbing with a hard swallow even as he refuses to grab me and fuck me as I know he wants.
Ah well. I got him to come at least, and tasted him on my tongue. It's one victory I wasn't sure I'd ever pull off. Not as much as I'd hoped for, but more than might've been possible.
"It's time to go," he says, reaching out to grab the strings of my scrubs and tie them closed. I sigh in his direction. "No more teasing or playing games. Your life is in danger, Mora. Ares could be here even sooner than expected—my sources only know a window. I shouldn't have let you delay things at all."
"What are your sources, anyway?"
He keeps a tight lip, folding my clothes up and handing them to me. I tuck them into the pocket of the scrubs, appreciating how the tiny athletic top and pants disappear like silk. Then Damien's grabbing me and pushing me out the door in front of him, into the med-bay.
"Finally," Dr. Moreland says, stopping in his pacing to frown at us. "You took a hell of a long time in there."
I smirk over at Damien, who doesn't look at me. "We had to discuss logistics, and plan where to meet up. Are you ready?"
"To assist in a prisoner escape? It's only been my dream for years. I just hope we're able to get everyone out safely. Frankie and Veronica will stay here with the patients, while Anna will come with us. I have your word nothing will happen to them?"
Damien grimaces as he says, "Ares wants fresh kills for what's happening next."
The three nurses all look nervous, but I have no doubt they trust Dr. Moreland. It's strange to imagine that they're risking our lives for us godbloods. I never thought it would go that way, or that I'd be putting faith in a mortal to help me escape, but there it is.
Of course I'm prepared for the idea that this is a trap. If it is, though, I have a plan: now that Damien has given me the last little bit of life force to fully satisfy the aching hunger inside me, I can take my cuffs and manacles off. In fact, I plan to do just that once I get the chance, long before we're out of here. Then if he turns on me—snap, I just use my powers on him, show him what Death's daughter can do when she's not a weak, starved little kitten.
I hope it doesn't come to that. Not because I don't want to fight Damien, though he is such a pretty uptight mortal, a nut I'd love to crack open some more. But because we're apparently escaping with Dr. Moreland and one of his nurses, which means I'd have to kill Damien in front of them, and possibly fight them too. Let's hope it doesn't happen.
"Let's go over the plan," Dr. Moreland says to Damien. He glances at me. "You may want to say goodbye to your friends."
Oh. Right. Apparently the men want privacy to discuss their little plan—putting us in a van, I imagine, and driving out. It's not that complicated. But I do want to check on the misfits before I go. "They're around the corner?"
"In the surgery arena. Safe as any place. As soon as everything passes, they'll be released."
I wonder if it's a kind of blessing that they were so wounded in the arena. If they hadn't been, they would've had to go on to further matches, not to mention risk facing Ares and whatever he's up to. Walking into the surgical arena, though, I feel bad for the state of them. Even Portia looks pale and wan still.
"You're escaping," she declares, taking one look at me and narrowing her eyes in scorn. "Of course you are. You bitch."
Flopping onto her side, she ignores me. I decide to leave her for last—I have some words for her, to hopefully help soothe the sting of my leaving.
First I tell Yoric goodbye. "Are you really leaving, Mora?"
"Looks like it. The gods are whimsical and finicky."
"I wish I was leaving."
Guilt will swallow me whole. "You'll find your place here, I know. The Night is strong."
"Unless Ares kills me." He raises his brows at my uniform. "You playing nurse now?"
"Something like that."
Sasha is dead asleep, which seems for the best, given what she's been through. I kiss her forehead and hope a little of her brother is with me to usher her through dreamland.
Then I walk over to Garnet, who looks even smaller, as hurt as she is. She grimaces in my direction. "Think next tournament I'll kick some ass?"
"I hope there isn't a next tournament," I tell her, wishing I could make it happen. Maybe Aleksander will. It wouldn't be his first big rebellion. "Sorry I won't be around to see it."
"Every godblood for herself." She squeezes my hand. "You gave me hope, you know. For a brief moment. In training. It almost felt like we could be strong."
It hurts to walk away from her. Hurts even more to kneel beside Portia's bed and stare at her angry face, her eyes tightly shut, mouth a thin line. She mutters, "You promised you'd help me get out of here."
"And I will. Just keep quiet." Reaching down, I pull her bedsheet over her as if I'm tucking her in, not wanting the others to see. "I can only do this for one person, okay? Consider it payback. For what you gave to me. Not that I understand why you did it, but... I guess sometimes even us godbloods can be merciful."
Omar's face flashes before my eyes. Putting my hands beneath the sheet, I tug on Portia's wrists until her cuffs are on my skin. Then I breathe out, judging how much strength I have within me, and imagine draining the death magic from her cuffs like water from a sieve.
At first it's a little tough. They're not on my skin, after all, so my body doesn't know her cuffs well. Unlike mine I haven't touched every surface on them.
Then I find it: a little chink in the armor. A gap, where things are weaker. I exploit it, eating away at the power that makes the gold run, tugging on more and more of it.
Eventually they open, creaking slightly. Portia gasps, and I hush her to quiet again, not wanting the others to know what we're doing. Grabbing onto the half-open cuffs, I take in a deep breath and pull what power remains from them, wanting to destroy them completely.
They crumble into powder beneath the sheets.
Portia's wrists are free.
"That'll give you some strength and power, in case things go sideways," I tell her, leaning in close and lowering my voice. "It's not much, but it's all I can give you."
"Thank you."
"If they find that the cuffs are gone, they'll just make new ones. It's not much."
She sighs, closing her eyes and breathing deep, her pulse thrumming against the skin of the wrist I'm still holding in my hands. "It's everything."
The doors open before I can say anything more, which is probably for the best. I'm not good at sentimental anything, much less goodbyes.
"We have to go now," Damien tells me, apparently done conferring with Dr. Moreland. "Come on, no time to spare."
I don't want to leave. For some reason part of me doesn't feel done here. But I know better than to stay—I have nothing
to offer anyone here. I might as well take this opportunity, look after myself, and forget I was ever here.
"Good luck," Portia tells me. I nod at her instead of saying goodbye.
Damien and I join up with Nurse Anna, while the other two slip into the surgical room, face resolute. They're looking over their patients. I don't know why, but that hurts my heart more than anything.
Time to look forward and keep going.
But we're barely through the room when the doors to the med-bay slam open, and someone new steps into the fray, covered in blood.
Chapter Twenty
It's Vesuvius.
He's breathing heavily, his broad muscles flexed. Blood drips from his fingers. His short ginger hair is slicked with it. The sight of him is like something out of a horror show. If it weren't for how upright he is or the armor he's wearing, I'd think the blood was his. But it clearly belongs to his enemies. Whatever warrior just went up against him lost their life.
Behind him, three of his Ares and Kratos sons gather, none quite as bloody, all still wearing armor from the arena. I frown at them, wondering what's going on, even as Damien's hand tightens on my elbow.
"He's here," Vesuvius says, stalking over towards me, his grey-green eyes flared with specks of fire. "Ares is here. Now."
"Now?"
"Yes. I came because I heard you were here, and wanted to bring you to safety."
Damien mutters, "We have that in control, prisoner. If you could just get out of the way—"
"Why are you here for me? What's going on?"
There are shouts further down the hallway. Vesuvius's men shut the door to the med-bay, standing at the ready, slick red swords in hand. The fiery demigod looks down at me, pushes Damien aside like he's nothing, and sweeps me into his arms.