Lenore’s fingers made quick work of the closings, and she, oh so slowly, spread the material apart, letting her lacey bra-clad breasts fall free.
He somehow managed to keep his face emotionless as she slipped her arms out of the top, leaving the garment draped around her hips. And she didn’t stop there.
“Doesn’t this seem silly,” she demurred. “We’re all grown-up immortals here.” She fiddled with her belt. “Just one second.”
Lenore turned around to face away from him and, undoing the belt, shimmied the dress down past her bottom, dropping it to the stone floor. She made sure to bend over to extricate it from one pink stiletto, giving him an exquisite view of her ample ass cheeks, covered…not so much…by a thong. She left her dangerously high heels on. Gods, the woman knew how to entice.
Giving him a coy look over her shoulder and flipping her long platinum hair, she slowly stood up and turned to face him. “I’d say our little game is heating up, wouldn’t you, Nergal?” She dared to call him by his given name. “If this were checkers, wouldn’t this be the part where I say king me?” Her gaze fell to the front of his breechcloth that rose perceptibly, and she licked her lips.
Nergal’s emotions battled with his physical needs. He almost groaned at the control he had to exert. If he let his guard down, let himself go, he’d be breaking several laws. He’d be breaking his own amulet ceremony vows to Eresh, although, dammit, she’d been doing that for years. And he’d be inserting himself between Anshar and his Chosen—not to mention into the god’s Chosen—and once that was done, where did he go from there?
Did he keep Lenore as his sex slave? Return her as spoiled goods to Anshar and risk a war with his gods? He was a king, and bound by certain rules. There seemed only one way to extricate himself from this.
“Ereshkigal!” Nergal bellowed. Dammit. He could have sworn he heard the little vixen in front of him say good boy. He must have been mistaken, because her full lips turned down into a frown.
“What do we need her for?” Lenore pouted, moving forward brazenly. She insinuated herself between his now-tense knees and ran her fingers over the dark, ancient symbols that covered his chest. His skin tightened under her touch, and when he felt a real shiver from her, his cock danced beneath his loincloth. “Hell, king-man, your wife must be insane.” She dragged her nails across one of his nipples, and he fought to keep his hands on the arms of his throne. “You have a killer bod, and all of it,” she looked pointedly at his twitching lap, “is going to waste.” He heard her lusty sigh. “Perhaps you’d like some help with that?”
Thank the gods. Just in time, Nergal felt Ereshkigal’s presence behind his throne, and while his eyes remained glued to Lenore’s hand hovering above his erection, he could have sworn she gave a wink over his shoulder to the queen.
“What is going on here?” Ereshkigal’s voice spewed forth with cold dignity.
Nergal quickly pushed Lenore away. “I’m trying to decide what to do with my prisoner now that I have her.”
“It looks like you’ve already decided.” His queen moved to the front of the throne, and looked like she wanted nothing more than to rip Nergal in two. But she hadn’t blocked him, and he heard the questions coming from her head. Why has Nergal called me? Does he want me humiliated, watching as he and the pretty goddess have carnal knowledge of each other? Or does he want me to bear witness that Lenore seems more than willing, so that later, Anshar can’t complain of being cuckolded?
He thought to assuage her. The last thing he needed was to be left alone with Lenore again. “It’s not what it seems.” He kept moving the blonde termagant back as she continued to squirm her way forward, attempting to rub on him. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her, but I have not encouraged her behavior.”
Eresh had known him long enough that Nergal hoped she heard the actual discomfort in his voice. She certainly gave Lenore a pointed stare, but instead of chastising the goddess, she put the problem back in his lap. Ah shit. His lap. He tried like hell to hide his erection by crossing his legs.
“Then have her put her clothes back on.” Ereshkigal ordered.
Nergal blew air out from between his lips. “Fine. Lady Lenore, put your clothes back on,” he commanded.
But instead of Lenore bowing to his wishes, she sidled up between Nergal’s thighs again, and settled in, drawing a tantalizing line with one fingernail from his sternum, down…down…down… What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
Thank the gods. It looked like Eresh had seen enough. She swiftly picked up Lenore’s discarded dress, and unceremoniously placed the garment between he and Lenore, right into the pathway of the goddess’s busy hands.
Up until this moment, the petite tease had moved languidly, but as soon as the dress was in her grasp, she pivoted like a whirlwind, grabbed for her garment, and whipped something from its folds. Nergal blinked. Just like that, the magic collar that he hadn’t seen in years was fastened around Ereshkigal’s neck.
“Ah-ha,” Lenore exclaimed. “Got you. Now don’t move.”
Both king and queen blinked, held immobile by the scene. The queen because she was under the spell of the collar and couldn’t disobey, while the king remained fixed because he was stunned.
“Now we’ll get some answers, won’t we?” Lenore struggled back into her dress, hampered by her heels. She used the gobsmacked king as a leaning post to keep herself upright. “You don’t mind, do you?” she asked, conversationally. “I’ll only be a minute.”
Was it accidental that her hand brushed against his still-erect penis? He groaned his frustration. Nergal should have known better than to mess with Lenore. Anshar wouldn’t have married an airhead. Lenore had gotten the drop on his queen…on him… On them, he grumpily amended.
Lenore put some distance between them and looked calculatedly at Ereshkigal. His queen probably thought, like him, of the last time she’d seen the collar. She’d originally sent her thirteen gods to Earth, bound with chains made of this material. It was the only way they could be trusted to behave themselves due to the magical properties in the metal. Little had they known that one day she’d be wearing some of it around her own neck. Ereshkigal looked suitably pissed off. Nergal was curious.
“What do you have planned?” Nergal queried, suspiciously. It wasn’t every day that somebody tried to best him. He could end this right now, using his strength and power to force Lenore into removing the collar, but his interest was piqued.
“I want to get to the bottom of what I believe are misunderstandings between the two of you,” Lenore explained as if to a child.
Ereshkigal’s eyes could have ignited the other woman, so obvious was her anger. Lenore took a great risk here, and Nergal still wasn’t certain what she was looking for. He bided his time.
“So,” she began. “Time for some truth.” Lenore rubbed her hands and turned exclusively to Ereshkigal. “My queen, you will be allowed to talk, but not to move. Now let’s get the biggest question out of the way quickly, although I think I already know the answer. Ereshkigal? Do you and your husband have sex these days?”
“No.” Ereshkigal’s hate-filled look promised serious retribution on the minor goddess.
“No surprise there.” Lenore quirked her mouth at Nergal’s cock, which―dammit―hadn’t flagged. “When was the last time you fucked?”
His queen tried to keep herself from speaking, but failed. “Three thousand four hundred and twenty-two years ago,” she bit out.
Lenore whistled. Her next question rankled the king. “Is that because he’s unappealing? Bad in bed? Unable to get it up?”
Nergal growled. Fucking impertinent wench.
“No, no, and no!” Eresh was going to grind her molars to dust if she wasn’t careful.
“So if it were up to you, would you still like to do him?”
Eresh refused to look at him, but the answer sprang from her lips. “Yes.”
“Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way.” Lenore, looking h
ighly pleased with herself, turned to Nergal. “Why don’t you answer a few things, big guy?”
“Because I haven’t got the collar on. That’s why,” Nergal answered smugly, not having learned anything new. His queen had never hidden from him that she’d take him back into her bed if he would allow it.
“Humor me. Who do you think is more powerful, you or your wife?” She sounded smug, but Nergal could see no significance in the question. It went against all of Lenore’s previous inquiries. He shrugged. “I can’t answer that question. My queen and I have never done battle with each other.”
Lenore moved in and leaned on the king’s knee again. “Excuse me.” She apologized as she bent down and removed one shoe. Under Nergal’s watchful gaze, she twisted off the heel and withdrew a lethal looking blade. It was as long as the shoe had been tall, which was a good six inches.
“We could remedy that situation.” Lenore proffered the knife to Ereshkigal, who just stood there, because Lenore hadn’t given her permission to move. The king saw Lenore sigh. “Fuck me. It’s a bitch having to dictate somebody’s every move. Reach up and take the knife, Ereshkigal.”
The queen complied, but didn’t look happy.
“Let’s say I ask you a question,” Lenore addressed the king once more, “and you refuse to answer.” She looked pointedly at his loincloth again. “I might be tempted to have the queen remove your….left…umm…pinky finger. Hah! Gotcha, didn’t I?”
Lenore had probably loved it when he blanched, but she only gave him a second to recover his equilibrium before she blindsided him again. “No, forgive me. I actually meant your testicle. Call me crazy, but I don’t think you’d flinch over a missing finger. One of your splendid jewels, however…”
The king was fast losing patience, but also experiencing a twinge of apprehension. What if Ereshkigal could do it? He played along for a little longer. “Fine. I’m fond of my masculinity. Ask your question.”
Lenore wasn’t about to lose her momentum. “Do you still find Ereshkigal appealing?”
The king brought his eyes to his queen. He slowly dragged his gaze from her dainty toes to her proud face. Her chin had come up, waiting to take the blow he couldn’t deliver. He let out a harsh breath. “Yes.”
“Then why did you stop fucking her so long ago?” The question sprang from Lenore’s lips to his ears, and he balked.
“That,” he spit at her, “is none of your goddess-damned business.”
It seemed like she was ready to let that one go. At least she didn’t push it. “Fine. I get it. Private shit and all that. But understand I’m about to order your wife to take off her clothes and fondle your naughty bits, so man up and do what comes naturally.”
Nergal masked his shock well. At least he thought he did. “It won’t matter what she does,” he said stoically, “I won’t be provoked.”
Lenore turned to Ereshkigal. The queen still gripped the blade in knuckles that now showed white.
“Oh, you can give me that.” Lenore gave a fake, ditzy shake of her head and held out her hand. The weapon was quickly passed over and sheathed safely back in her shoe. She looked to be having a lot of fun.
“Ereshkigal, before you get your tongue all over those glorious tats…” Gods! Was Lenore looking at him lasciviously again? She questioned his queen, but watched Nergal from the corner of her eye. “…tell us how many people or gods have you fucked since you laid with Nergal last?”
Ereshkigal clearly fought the answer with all of her power, but couldn’t stop the single syllable from leaving her lips. “None.”
“Lies!” Nergal jumped to his feet, exploding to his seven-foot height, his long, bead-entwined ponytail whipping to the side as he turned his infuriated gaze to Lenore. “I don’t know how you’re doing it, but the truth no longer springs from her mouth.”
His power swirled around him like a cloak. “She has been with every god you are familiar with, including your own husband,” he spat out. In his fury, he let loose all Ereshkigal didn’t need to know. “In all those years, I have attempted sex with one succubus unsuccessfully and inquired of Beletseri, but had second thoughts and never went through with it.”
He snapped his mouth shut, realizing too late that he’d shared too much.
Ereshkigal’s mouth fell open.
“Go ahead, Ereshkigal,” urged Lenore, looking at the astounded goddess. “Tell him what you did with our group of gods.”
A blush rose up the queen’s neck. Nergal steeled himself against the hurt deep in his gut. To hear her confess would wound him irrevocably.
“I never once laid a hand on any god, nor did any of them ever touch me,” she replied quietly, letting her words sink in as she faced him. “You are familiar with my chambers and the screen I keep in the corner.”
She didn’t wait for his answer. “I would summon one of the gods, and first thing they would erect that screen as a barrier between us. Then I would have them talk to me.” Ereshkigal sounded sad. “My pride and vanity had been torn to shreds from you rejecting me again and again. I felt worthless, ugly.”
Nergal made a sound that felt like both pain or denial—he couldn’t distinguish—before the queen continued.
“At first, I simply had them tell me that I was beautiful, desirable…all the words I longed to hear from you. After a while, hundreds of years in fact, I got comfortable with them and we began to get…playful.”
The king’s face hardened. Here it comes, he thought.
“They would tell me what parts of me were the most appealing, and I would respond in kind. Before another few hundred years had passed, we began touching ourselves, still on opposite sides of the screen, offering our fantasies up to each other. It was arousing…and believe it or not, therapeutic for all of us.”
She didn’t apologize, but defended herself and her gods. “Not once did any of them breech the privacy of that barrier. I trusted them to give me what I needed and no more, and they honored my wishes.” Her voice held eons of pain. “And you, you believed the worst and hurt them…over and over. Punished them, beat them, and had them torn apart, yet still they remained silent and loyal to me always.”
Nergal stood stock still. For once in his very long life, he didn’t know what to say.
Lenore did.
“Go to Nergal, Ereshkigal. Put your arms around him and hold him close. Let him feel how much you’ve missed him and what you’ve both deprived each other of all these years.”
The queen’s feet moved according to Lenore’s wishes, but in truth, Nergal knew it was nothing less than she’d longed to do for centuries.
“And Nergal? I hand over the power of the collar to you. Use it wisely.” Lenore turned to walk away. “When you’re through with it, I have the code to remove it.”
By this time, Nergal wasn’t listening to her, and he suspected that neither was his queen. As soon as Ereshkigal touched him, his hands found her as well. The world fell away as he looked deep into her eyes and allowed himself to see the love that had never left.
“If anybody’s looking for me,” Lenore walked to the far edge of the room, keeping her back to the fawning couple. “I’ll be in my cage.” She pulled the door shut behind her.
Nergal lowered his head and sipped, tentatively at his wife’s lips, before deepening the pressure into a soul-searing kiss that held all of his longing for the past thousands of years of regret.
The back of his neck tingled, as if someone watched, but without raising his head, he figured it must be Lenore. He ignored the feeling and instead crushed his wife beneath him.
Chapter Thirty
“Hey, you can’t eat that.” Tess slapped Erra’s hand as he attempted to bring a ripe tomato up to his mouth. The god looked momentarily stunned.
“Why not?” he asked, petulantly.
Tess inclined her head to where the young lady was positioned behind her stand, clearly googly eyed over the six-foot eight, delectable redhead who had purloined a piece of her fruit. “We have to pa
y first.”
She dug in her purse. “Don’t mind my…cousin,” Tess apologized to the woman, handing over a few bills. “He’s not from this country.”
“Where’s he from?” The breathless question accompanied the money getting stuffed, uncounted into the till.
Tess sighed. “Uh…Germany.”
Erra grunted, clearly amused. There was nothing Teutonic about his accent, but she couldn’t say ancient Mesopotamia or they’d drag her away in a straightjacket.
Tess studied the clueless giant and shook her head. Being out in public with Erra was even worse than being out with Marduk. They both garnered way too much attention. At least her husband with his dark hair wasn’t a freaking beacon like this fiery-headed god of war. She’d already had to drag him away from two ladies selling honey, one with homemade chocolates, and even a granny peddling crocheted toaster cozies. And, she looked at her watch, they’d yet to be at the farmers’ market fifteen minutes. Great.
Kulla, who was along for the walk but invisible to all the humans, asked her if she’d stock up for dedicating his new buildings.
I’m sure the guest houses will be completed in two or three days. It is our tradition to heap offerings to the overgod at any structure I’ve completed. If we purchase things now, we won’t have to go out again.
What kind of offerings? Tess asked, half listening. Hmph. She’d be lucky if she had time to get any fresh produce for herself today, and the tomato Erra sank his pearly whites into looked awfully good.
The usual…a censor of juniper, a pint of beer, pressed sesame, cedar resin, honey, milk, wine, cypress oil. A sacrificial ram is always good. Kulla looked around him. But I don’t suppose that will be possible.
Tess snorted at the list. Honey, milk, wine, and beer will be easy, but the, uh, cedar resin might be tough. She figured the all-natural organic grocery store would have some juniper, even if it was medicinal, and pressed sesame…would that be oil? She sighed. You’re right about the ram, though…
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