Deep Water

by Nicola Cameron

  Griffin grabbed it and took a somewhat inelegant gulp. “Anything to calm me down. God—sorry. I’ve got to stop doing that, don’t I?”

  “It’s fine. I know you’re not addressing me.”

  “Good. It’s just—yeah, I’m nervous.”

  “I understand.”

  “Do you? I don’t think you get buggered all that often.”

  “Not lately, but I’ve indulged in the past.” Poseidon chuckled. “Oh, do close your mouth. You’ll catch minnows that way.”

  Griffin closed his mouth with a click. “You’ve let someone bugger you?” he said incredulously.

  “Yes. Granted, I have to be in the mood for it, but I’ve quite enjoyed it from time to time.”

  “Bloody hell.” He took another swig of wine. “Sorry. I shouldn’t be swilling this, should I? It’s probably some sort of rare godly vintage.”

  Poseidon's mouth twisted in thought. “I believe it’s from California. I can ask Bythos later if you like.”

  “Oh. Well, in that case.” He squeezed the rest of the bulb into his mouth and swallowed, draining it.

  Poseidon plucked the bulb from his hand and put it with the god’s own on the nightstand. “May I lie beside you?”

  “Please.” Griffin shifted over a bit in silent invitation.

  Poseidon swung his feet onto the bed and stretched out, looking at him with that same faint smile. “Shall we pick up where we left off last night?” he said. “I believe we were making out like hormone-crazed teenagers?”

  The god’s attempt to lighten the mood worked. “Right. Come here, you gob.”

  Poseidon did with a will. As it turned out, underwater foreplay sans breathing gear lent some very interesting physical properties to the process. Every time they turned or shifted it would lift them up a bit, causing them to float just over the surface of the bed before settling back down to it.

  It was, in a word, insanely fun, and Griffin found himself chortling when Poseidon deliberately spun him along the long axis of his body to get access to the nape of his neck. “That tickles!”

  “It won’t in a minute,” the god mumbled, nibbling at his skin with delicate little bites. One arm slithered around Griffin’s waist, pulling him flush against Poseidon's body.

  His arse came in contact with something long and hard. Feeling evil and remembering what Miranda used to do in the same position, he deliberately wriggled against it.

  Poseidon moaned against his skin. “Wretch.”

  “That’s me.” Griffin ground back against Poseidon's groin again. It was more than a little weird to feel another stiff cock prodding him, especially knowing where it would eventually go, but he was surprised to find it was also turning him on. He’d always enjoyed getting his partners excited. That hadn’t changed just because his partner was now male.

  And then a warm hand came to rest over his groin, gently stroking covered flesh that was, unfortunately, still flaccid.

  Griffin sighed. “It’s not you. It's the cancer.”

  “I know. Does it hurt when I touch you?”

  “No. Feels nice. I just can’t get hard.”

  Poseidon hummed against his neck. “May I try something?”

  “If you mean oral, that doesn’t work, either.” He winced at the memory of the escort he’d hired once the docs had cleared him for sex, and her diligent attempts to wake up his limp cock. She had been kind but relieved when he finally told her to stop, which was almost worse than the impotence.

  “I didn’t mean that, although I do plan on kissing every part of you.” Poseidon's breath was a warm caress against the back of his neck and Griffin shivered at it. “I have something else in mind.”

  “Like what?”

  In response the god’s hand went to the waistband of his bathing trunks and slid underneath. Griffin groaned as Poseidon’s hand stroked his soft cock before closing around his balls, cupping them gently. Just once, please, let me get hard again.

  His body didn’t listen, but he forgot about that as a gentle tingle began to play along the surface of his skin. It spread out from Poseidon’s fingers, pouring down in a trickle over Griffin’s balls. He tilted his head back against Poseidon's shoulder, squirming in the warm, vibrating grip. “Oh, that’s good. Don’t stop,” he breathed.

  “I won’t.” Poseidon continued playing with him, coating his skin with that wonderful sensation. One finger slipped behind his balls, pressing into the soft skin there. His hips kept thrusting into the god’s hand as the tingle grew, trying to scratch an itch that wasn’t an itch but a delicious hum.

  Then Poseidon started kissing his ear, licking along the upper shell before returning to the lobe and sucking gently. Griffin’s eyes squeezed closed as a spark began to build at the base of his spine. But he still wasn’t hard and it couldn’t work, he knew it couldn’t. He tried to wriggle away to get breathing room.

  Poseidon immediately stopped. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. It’s just, you’re getting me all worked up and I can’t come.” He heard the little whine in his voice and hated it. “Sorry. Just give me a little space, yeah?”

  The tingles slowed down, but didn’t stop. “Do you trust me?”

  Griffin groaned, pushing back against him. “I’m trying to, I swear.”

  “Then let me bring you pleasure, beloved. Let go and trust me.”

  God, he wanted to come so badly. “Okay.”

  Poseidon started caressing him again and the tingling deepened. It turned into a throb that sank through his flesh, centering where he assumed his prostate was. Waves of pleasure started washing through him from that spot, each wave building on the previous one until he felt like he was balanced on a knife-edge of pleasure and pain. He cried out, twisting in the god’s arms as the throbbing rose, higher, higher, so close—

  “Yes!” Something deep inside clicked. His balls convulsed as a blessedly wonderful orgasm swept over him, whiting out his vision. Semen pulsed through his limp penis and he threw his head back, shouting in relief.

  After what felt like an eternity the orgasm finally eased, leaving shivering aftershocks in its wake. Griffin sagged in Poseidon’s arms as the god laid gentle kisses down the side of his neck. “Jesus Christ,” he said once he’d gotten his breath back. “How did you do that?”

  “I may not be expert in modern social activities, but I've stayed up to date on science and medicine,” Poseidon murmured in his ear. “An erection is useful for penetrative sex, but not absolutely required for orgasm. I simply encouraged the appropriate nerve endings to cascade, and you climaxed.” He kissed the lobe. “I’m very glad my research into the issue was correct.”

  Griffin twisted a bit, staring at him. “You did research?”

  “Yes. The National Institutes of Health database was particularly helpful.” A fine fan of lines appeared at the corners of the god’s eyes as he smiled. “I wanted you to enjoy yourself, you see.”

  “Oh. Thank you,” Griffin said faintly. “Er, you know how to use the Internet?”

  Poseidon rolled his eyes. “I'm a god, beloved, not a Luddite. I have a waterproof computer that works at this pressure, and I’m currently working on a way to get Wi-Fi down here. I’ll have to run a cable relay system from the nearest body of land and put repeaters around the palace, but it should work quite nicely.” He smirked. “And it’ll steal a march on Hephaestus and Hermes’s attempt to get Wi-Fi installed on Olympus.”

  Griffin tried to reconcile what he’d learned in school with the god—the man—who was now holding him. “You realize you’re completely ruining my view of the Greek gods, right?”

  “What, that we sit around on lounges all day eating ambrosia and drinking nectar when we’re not ravishing pretty mortals?” Poseidon said. “Believe me, beloved, that was already palling by 500 B.C. We’ve been involved in mortal affairs for millennia, now. I think Zeus even got himself elected Pope one year.”

  Griffin’s mouth drifted open. “Do I want to know which one?”<
br />
  “It’s fairly obvious if you know what to look for,” Poseidon said, brushing Griffin’s cheek with a finger. “Good. You seem more relaxed, now.”

  “Christ, yes.” His eyes, drifting shut, opened abruptly. “Wait. You did that on purpose?”

  “Yes. A judicious application of alcohol and an orgasm will relax your muscles and make things easier.”

  “Master manipulator, aren't you?”

  “Guilty,” Poseidon said unrepentantly. “But I’ll do whatever is required to make you look forward to spending time in my arms.”

  Griffin relaxed into the god's embrace. “Trust me, you’re doing a great job so far.” He could still feel that iron hardness against his arse, but somehow it didn’t seem as worrisome as before. “So what’s next?”

  Large hands stroked up and down his stomach, soothing him. “Let me make love to you. I swear I’ll give you pleasure.”

  Swallowing and glad that Poseidon couldn’t see the nervous gesture, Griffin nodded. “Okay. Just ... go slow, all right?”

  Warm kisses pressed against the side of his neck. “Whatever you desire, beloved. Always.”

  Chapter Ten

  After another delightful round of kissing and fondling, Poseidon finally lured Griffin out of his t-shirt and trunks. “I know I’m not much right now,” his mate mumbled, hands twitching at his sides from repressing the urge to cover himself. “Sorry.”

  Poseidon took a long, thoughtful look at his agapetos. Griffin’s illness had wasted the spare flesh from his once-athletic body, leaving him gaunt and thin. Privately the god thought that Griffin looked like a painting by Caravaggio, all long bones and shadowed hollows. There was an austere beauty to his form that made Poseidon want to cover his mortal with slow, gentle touches and kisses.

  “Beloved, you will always be appealing to me,” he said, meaning every word.

  “Yeah, I can tell,” Griffin said. He reached out and palmed the ridge that was tenting Poseidon’s tunic. “You really want me, even like this.”

  “I do.” Poseidon was hesitant to remove his own clothing, not wanting to make Griffin feel bad at the comparison between their bodies. But Griffin was already tugging at his belt, pulling it loose before going to work on his tunic.

  He paused once the god was naked. “God, you’re amazing,” he murmured, running fingertips across Poseidon’s chest and down his ridged abdomen. “It’s weird to call another bloke beautiful, but you are.”

  “Thank you.” Inside, Poseidon glowed at the compliment. “Touch me anywhere you like.”

  Griffin did, running his hands slowly along Poseidon’s skin. To the god it felt like his mate was painting pleasure on his skin with each caress. After an eternity Griffin finally reached down and wrapped a hand around Poseidon’s cock.

  “You’re big,” he muttered, stroking it. “I don’t know—“

  Poseidon kissed him, sucking gently on Griffin’s top lip, then the bottom one. “Trust me, beloved,” he murmured.

  ****

  “I do.” Griffin stroked Poseidon again experimentally. “But can I make a suggestion?”

  The god licked his lips, his breath starting to hitch. “As long as you keep touching me like that, you can suggest anything you like.”

  Griffin bit down on a grin. And suddenly I’m getting a look at what it’s like for the other side. We really think with our dicks, don’t we? “We need more wine. Well, maybe you don’t—wouldn’t want you getting booze dick. But yeah, get me drunk. I know from experience that I’m far more relaxed that way—once fell down a flight of stairs after a piss-up and didn’t even get bruised.”

  The dazed look evaporated from Poseidon’s face. “I … do we have to?”

  Griffin noticed the firm flesh in his hand softening a bit. “It’s just an idea. What’s wrong?”

  Poseidon’s hand came down to cover his, not to encourage his stroking but to stop it. “The last time,” he said slowly, “at Athena’s temple, I persuaded Medusa to drink with me. I was already quite tipsy, and I thought she should be, as well. And then…”

  “Oh.” That was a lifetime echo that had to hurt. “Okay, I can see why that would bother you. But I’m going into this willingly, right? I just need some muscle relaxant.” And a bit of liquid courage wouldn’t hurt.

  The god still looked dubious. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Griffin said firmly. “Besides, that California plonk that your butler brought in was excellent.”

  “My steward, Cam.” Poseidon considered the idea. “To be honest, I wouldn’t mind a bulb myself right now. It won’t affect me adversely.”

  “Right, then.” Griffin kissed him. “Go get the wine. Then we’ll see what happens.”

  Poseidon rolled out of the bed and swam off to the sitting room. Griffin watched him go, appreciating the play of muscles in the god’s powerful legs and flanks. All right, down to brass tacks. You not only like him, you’re in love with him. He stopped, checking the glowing feeling in his chest. Yeah, definitely love. He’s fucking gorgeous and built like a, ha ha, Greek god. And he just managed to give you the first orgasm you’ve had in a year. So stop being precious about your masculinity, lie back, think of England, and let him save your bloody life, all right?

  Poseidon returned, flagon and full bulbs in hand. “Liquid muscle relaxant, as requested,” he said.

  “Give it here.” Griffin accepted a bulb and started swallowing, draining it in less than ten seconds. “That’s the stuff,” he said, handing it over for a refill.

  Poseidon refilled the bulb and handed it back, then stretched out on the bed and took a healthy swig from his own. “Remind me never to go drinking with you.”

  “Nope, you’re not getting out of that,” Griffin said, waving with his wine bulb. “Once I’m better, there’s this seaside town in Greece that makes some amazing retsina, not to mention the best prawns you’ve ever had. We’ll go there, eat prawns, get smashed, dance with the locals, and pass out on a hillside with an ocean view. It’ll be great.”

  Poseidon finished his bulb and let it settle onto the bedroom floor. “When you’re feeling up to it, Ammie and I will show you all our favorite places around the Mediterranean. We’ll make a proper tour of it.”

  “Mm, love it.” Griffin discarded his own bulb. The wine had given him a warm, lovely buzz, and Poseidon was looking hotter by the second. “Do you realize I haven’t kissed you in at least five minutes?”

  “Horrors. We should rectify that immediately.” Poseidon pulled him in and gave him a long, lush, sizzling kiss that set his nerve endings dancing. Before he knew it he was wrapped around the god like an octopus, fondling everything he could reach without breaking their kiss.

  He felt Poseidon’s hand slide around his upper thigh, tugging it over the god’s hip. The hand squeezed his arse cheek playfully, stroking and scratching at the sensitive underside where ass met thigh. No woman had ever done that to him before, and he groaned at the undeniably erotic sensation.

  “You’re good at this,” he panted.

  “Years of experience,” Poseidon said, sounding somewhat out of breath himself. “May I keep going?”

  “Christ, yes.”

  Those wriggling, tickling fingers slid over the crest of his arse cheek into the furrow. One fingertip brushed his anus, tracing circles around the tight puckered muscle. The sensation was simultaneously weird and terrific. Griffin wondered why he’d never asked a woman to play with his ass before, then gasped as the fingertip pressed for entrance. He could feel the muscle flutter, then open suddenly. And then the finger was inside him, slick somehow and totally painless.

  All the while Poseidon was busy kissing a path from his mouth to his jawline, finding the sensitive skin there and teasing it unmercifully with his tongue. Griffin wondered what it would feel like to have the god’s tongue where his finger currently was, and moaned at the excitement that shot through him.

  Poseidon paused. “Are you all right?”

  “Fuck yes
. Don’t stop.”

  A chuckle was his answer. The finger slid deeper, and yes, that did feel sort of weird but it also didn’t have the impersonal quality of a—

  Griffin’s eyes bugged open, and he yelped as a bolt of pure sensation rocketed through his belly. “Whoa! What the hell is that?”

  Poseidon gave him a smug smile. “That, my love, is your prostate.”

  “No, it bloody well isn’t. I’ve had docs poking and prodding the damned thing since I turned forty, and it never felt like that.”

  “That’s because they weren’t trying to drive you out of your mind.”

  “Oh.” Now that he thought about it, women probably didn’t enjoy trips to the gyno, either. “Good point. Carry on.”

  Poseidon let out an amused sound and continued to demonstrate the licking flames of pleasure that came from having one’s prostate properly petted and rubbed. Griffin ground back against the finger, aware that he was making the most embarrassing noises and not really caring. Thank fuck we’re underwater, otherwise I’d be crushing his hand.

  The finger pulled back a bit, and a second one pressed for entrance. “This may sting a bit. Bear down against my fingers, and it’ll be easier for you,” Poseidon instructed.

  Griffin did so, wincing as the second finger entered him. As the god had predicted it burned a bit, but the sensation quickly died away. Soon enough he was groaning happily again with two fingers stimulating his prostate and the other sensitive nerves in the area.

  The third finger took longer to adjust to, and the burn never quite died away but turned into a low-grade background sort of prickling. He hung onto the sensations of pleasure and his own rising need to come, following Poseidon’s instructions and working at relaxing his inner muscles.

  Finally the god’s hand stilled in him. “I think you’re ready. May I try?”

  “Yeah.” Griffin expected to be flipped over onto his hands and knees, but Poseidon moved to his other side instead, spooning against his back. “Um…”

  “This will give you more control over everything. Unless you’d like to ride me instead.”