Deep Water

by Nicola Cameron

  “If your tumor is as aggressive as it seems to be, you should have daily doses of my seed, yes.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I thought. But right now my arse feels like someone drove a lorry through it.”

  “Ah.” Poseidon dropped down at his side. “Yes, you’ll need a day or so to recover.”

  “But I also need your … you know.” Griffin grinned nervously, trying to steel himself. “So if you can’t bugger me, I guess it’s Plan B.”

  Poseidon’s expression contorted in an odd way. After a moment, Griffin realized the god was trying not to smile. “What?”

  “You needn’t make it sound like I’m asking you to slaughter innocents.”

  Griffin flushed. “Fuck. Sorry.”

  “It’s all right, love. I’m teasing,” Poseidon said. He turned thoughtful. “That being said, it would be easier if you could get hard. That way we could pleasure each other at the same time. As that’s not possible right now, I could always masturbate and you could consume it in some sort of food. Oatmeal, perhaps, or a protein shake?”

  The thought of adding Poseidon’s semen to a bowl of already glutinous oatmeal made Griffin gag. “I suppose,” he said, unenthused.

  The god rolled onto his back, stretching out with his hands tucked behind his head. “Tell me, love, have you ever pleasured a woman with your mouth?”

  Griffin turned onto his side. “Yeah, lots of times.”

  “Why?”

  “I like it. It’s fun, and I like the taste. Besides it’s a power trip. I love knowing that I can make a woman moan and beg with just my tongue.”

  Poseidon gave him a slow, absolutely filthy smile. “How would you like to make a powerful immortal moan and beg?”

  Griffin blinked. Put that way, oh very much yes, with sugar on top. “I see what you mean,” he said. “Okay, I’ll try it. But I reserve the right to use protein shakes if I just can’t swallow.”

  “Agreed.” Poseidon glanced down meaningfully at his now tented trousers.

  Well, it wasn’t like he wanted any more burned toast. Feeling nervous and strangely excited, Griffin put the breakfast tray on the floor, then undid the god’s trouser catch and slid the zipper down, careful to avoid the rigid shaft underneath.

  Easing out Poseidon’s cock, he took the measure of it. It was definitely longer than average, not to mention thick (as the ache in his arse could attest to), but it wasn’t the monster dong so common in porn videos. Instead, it was elegant, if that was a word that could be applied to a hard cock. A few shades rosier than Poseidon’s skin, it was beribboned with an impressive set of veins. Underneath the foreskin, the head was a fat mushroom cap that was just starting to peep out of its protective cowling.

  Griffin had to admit it was a gorgeous piece of equipment. Now all he had to do was man up and suck it. Experimentally, he licked the foreskin, letting his tongue drag over the soft, spongy flesh. In his peripheral vision he saw Poseidon’s thigh muscles twitch.

  He smacked his lips. “Huh. Tastes like skin. Well, it would, wouldn’t it?”

  “I certainly hope so,” Poseidon said, sounding a bit strangled.

  Weirdly, that made Griffin want to laugh. Well, I know what I like when it comes to cock-sucking. Might as well see if he likes it, too.

  Using his lips he teased the foreskin back and forth over the head, pausing every so often to run his tongue around the grained flesh. Poseidon’s legs flexed slowly, tensing when Griffin dropped lower and placed an open-mouthed kiss against the shaft. The skin felt incredibly soft against his lips, and the flesh underneath was broiling hot and so very stiff. Idly he traced the path of a vein with the tip of his tongue, following it down to where it disappeared into the main body of the shaft near the balls.

  Let’s see how he likes this. Flattening his tongue, Griffin licked a wide, wet stripe up the underside. When he reached the top he gently nudged the foreskin down, licking the ridged bit under the corona there.

  There was no other word for it. Poseidon let out a whimper. Grinning, Griffin concentrated his efforts on the head, sucking it into his mouth and working it with his lips and tongue. That maneuver always sent him into orbit, and judging from the muffled sounds he could hear Poseidon making it was having the same effect on the god.

  After a bit the foreskin retracted fully and he could lick under the corona, before coming up and dipping into the slit where a small, translucent pearl had formed. A taste of something fresh and pleasantly salty burst over his tongue, more like tears than anything. With another grin, he started deliberately tonguing the slit.

  There was another divine whimper overhead. “Please, Griffin,” Poseidon panted.

  Yeah, I could get used to this. “Please, what?” Griffin teased.

  The god audibly gulped. “Suck it. Please.”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely.” Griffin took the whole head into his mouth, letting it bump against his soft palate. He had no illusions about being able to deep throat and wasn’t even going to try. At least, not this time.

  Instead, he formed a seal with his lips around Poseidon’s shaft and sucked on it while wrapping his hand around the thick flesh and pumping it up and down. He lowered his mouth until it met the curve of his thumb and forefinger. More fresh salt oozed over his tongue, and he swallowed it easily enough, letting some of his excess saliva drip out and form lubricant for his steadily pumping hand.

  He knew he’d hit the right rhythm when Poseidon started muttering in what sounded like Ancient Greek, clutching the sheets tightly as his entire pelvis twitched. Griffin recognized the urge to thrust up into a warm, wet mouth and appreciated the god’s self-control.

  But where’s the fun in that? Feeling wicked, he stepped up his game, giving his mate the best wet, delightfully messy blowjob he could manage. He added some slurping sound effects that had always ramped up his own excitement, gagging a few times as he went down too far and not caring a bit.

  And then Poseidon went rigid. “Love, I’m close,” he panted. “Get ready.”

  Griffin steeled himself, hoping that divine spunk didn’t have the bitterness that he’d tasted in his own when he was first going through puberty. Just swallow it. It can’t be worse than the boiled slop you had to eat at school.

  The hot flesh in his mouth thickened, going impossibly hard as Poseidon shouted something in a cracked voice. Then a warm, thick, salty fluid filled his mouth.

  He swallowed automatically before registering the flavor. And then swallowed again, more easily this time. Ichor apparently made divine cum taste, well, divine. There was a savory undertone to the semen that, in more restaurant-based circumstances, he would call tasty. It also left his tongue tingling, not the burn of peppers or curry but almost electric without being painful.

  He could feel the tingle traveling down his throat, now, lighting up his stomach like a good single malt. He imagined the fluid being absorbed into his system, flowing through his arteries, making its way to his brain. Hey, tumor? Take that, you bastard.

  More semen oozed onto his tongue and he kept swallowing, breathing through his nose so that he could maintain the suction that made coming in someone’s mouth the amazing experience it was. When he judged Poseidon was growing sensitive he eased off, lapping the last few drops of magic tumor-buster off the shaft.

  Licking his lips, Griffin grinned up at Poseidon. “Why didn’t you tell me you tasted so damned good?”

  “Do I?” The god had a hazy, blissed-out expression. “Ah. Good to know. No protein shakes required, then?”

  “Definitely not.” He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. “Besides, now that I’m going to live I want my security deposit back, and I’m pretty sure this stuff would blow up the blender. I’d better drink it from the source.”

  Poseidon smiled. “Probably for the best.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Aphros jogged up to the blue and white cottage, absently stripping the water from his skin and hair. If he pushed, he had just enough time
to whip up a quick curry for lunch. Ian and Bythos were busy studying the new coral reef that had bloomed on the site of the goddess Claire’s death, but there should be more than enough food for them when they came back.

  Once in the kitchen he summoned fresh chicken thighs and laid them out on the chopping board, thinking about his own work that morning. The latest patrol had turned up no signs of ilkothelloi or any other creatures with Thetis’s venom, and he was starting to wonder if his father’s interaction with the ilkothella had been a one-off. The question was, was it meant to show that Thetis could send her creatures anywhere, or was it a deliberate feint at Griffin Moore? The former meant that Thetis’s hubris was growing, but the latter meant that she knew far more about their private lives than he liked.

  Not for the first time, he wondered if it was wise not to inform his mother that her long-lost agapetos had been reincarnated in the form of a dying British marine biologist. I’m sure Father thinks he has a plan, but if it doesn’t work it means Mother’s been deprived of Griffin’s last days. The demigod frowned. Assuming he really is their agapetos and this isn’t some kinky fancy of Father’s.

  There was a knock at the back door, then a creak. “Aphros? A word, please?”

  Speak of the devil. He glanced over his shoulder at Poseidon—and yes, Griffin stood next to him in the back doorway.

  Then he stopped, taking a closer look at the mortal. “You’re looking much better.”

  “Yeah, so your dad said,” Griffin said easily. “Apparently I’ve got streaks of orange in my aura now.”

  Aphros’s eyebrows went up. “Your aura?”

  “That’s not necessary, son. He knows everything.” Poseidon took Griffin’s hand. “Including who he was.”

  The demigod’s eyebrows rose further until they were up near his hairline. Poseidon’s stance and attitude, not to mention the fact that he was now holding Griffin’s hand, undoubtedly meant that his father had successfully bedded the human. The less Aphros thought about that, the better.

  “Ah. Well, then…” He searched for something else to say. “Would the two of you like to have lunch? I was going to make chicken korma.”

  “Curry?” Griffin said longingly. “I’d love some.”

  “Take a seat.” Soon Aphros was setting plates of pilau rice heaped with fragrant chunks of chicken in a rich yellow sauce on the table. Reaching out to his favorite baker in Mombasa, he snagged three naan breads and added them to a waiting platter. “Please, eat,” he urged.

  Griffin didn’t hesitate, digging into his meal. “Oh, that’s the stuff,” he said after swallowing, smiling beatifically. “This is fantastic, Aph.”

  “Quite,” Poseidon agreed, scooping up some curry in a bit of naan bread and eating it with relish. “I do appreciate you feeding us on such short notice.”

  Aphros almost choked on his mouthful of korma. Father, grateful? This is new. “You’re welcome,” he said after clearing his throat. “So I take it you two are…”

  Griffin looked to Poseidon, who smiled like the proverbial cat with canary. “Yeah, guess that’s obvious,” the mortal said.

  “Which is why we’re here,” Poseidon said. “I feel that your mother should meet Griffin as soon as possible, but the last time I tried to speak to her she refused to talk to me. I would appreciate any advice you might have.”

  Aphros shut his open mouth with a soft click. “You’re asking me for advice?”

  Sea blue eyes glinted at him in good humor. “I know I’ve been somewhat rigid these past few millennia. But it is possible even for an aged fossil such as myself to learn. And one of the things I have learned is that a direct approach won’t work with your mother—it’ll put her back up and I won’t see her again for centuries.”

  “And I don’t have that kind of time,” Griffin added.

  Aphros saw a flash of pain cross his father’s face. He knew that pain. It was the risk a god took when he fell in love with a mortal, knowing that they would eventually be lost to the cold hand of death. If it hadn’t been for Gaia’s intervention, he and Bythos would be facing the same situation eventually with Ian. It made him feel more sympathetic towards his father. “Why don’t I invite her over for dinner tonight?” he suggested. “If the two of you simply happen to drop by, she can meet Griffin then.”

  “That would work very well for us,” Poseidon said, glancing at Griffin.

  Aphros nodded. “If you’re willing to take some more advice, be aware that she may not welcome you back with open arms, even with Griffin at your side. You remember what happened with Nick and Liam when they first met.”

  Poseidon sighed. “I do.”

  Griffin looked curious. “What happened when they met?”

  The god grimaced a bit. “Liam tried to run Nick through with his trident, then choked him. Granted, he thought Nick was raping Aidan at the time.”

  Griffin’s mouth dropped open. “Holy God. But they act like they’re absolutely potty about each other.”

  “They are, now. But Liam had to work for Nick’s forgiveness.” Aphros eyed Poseidon, noting the high color coming out in his father’s face. “Then again, it could be said that you’ve been working for Mother’s forgiveness for quite some time, now. I think she’ll take that into account.”

  “I hope so,” Poseidon said, toying with a piece of naan bread. “And if not, I’m hoping Griffin will be able to change her mind, or at least ease her anger.”

  “Oh, really? Two ex-wives, remember?” Griffin said, waving a fork at Poseidon. “Don’t expect me to smooth over your marriage issues. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t throw something at me.”

  “Oh, she won’t throw anything at you,” Aphros said cheerily. “Father, on the other hand, had better be ready to duck.”

  Poseidon gazed at him flatly. “Thank you, my son.”

  “You’re quite welcome. More curry?”

  ****

  Amphitrite lowered her teacup. “That’s odd,” she announced.

  Hyacinth frowned. “What is?”

  She and Hyacinth were having tea in her sister’s little office at The Lady’s Touch. After the unsettling events of the last few days she felt the need to hole up somewhere where she could relax and talk to a sister.

  Even if it meant dragging said sister away from rearranging her fall décor offerings. “I don’t know,” Amphitrite said, trying to focus. This time it wasn’t a sudden rush of desire distracting her. Whatever this was, it had a taste of malignancy to it. She reached out to find the source of the disturbance, but it was gone.

  “Dammit.” Frustrated, she turned her attention to Hyacinth, who was now fussing with her teacup. “Did you sense it at all?”

  “Er, no.” Hyacinth took a hasty mouthful of tea, spilling some of it onto her blouse. “Would you like another cookie?”

  Amphitrite narrowed her eyes. “Not particularly. Hy, you’re fidgeting. Do you really need to get back to your display that badly?”

  “No, of course not.” The other Nereid hunched down a bit, not meeting her gaze. “I’m just thinking about … things, you know. The boys, Ian. Poseidon.”

  Her hesitation on the last name told Amphitrite a great deal. Hyacinth was many things, but a good liar she wasn’t. “Why are you thinking about Poseidon?”

  “I’m not,” Hyacinth said, adding on a nervous laugh. “Well, just in passing. Like when you think of something you don’t want to think about, but it just pops in your head anyway?”

  With care, Amphitrite put her teacup down on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. That way, she reasoned, it would be more difficult to reach across and shake the truth out of her sister. “Hyacinth, what’s going on?”

  The other Nereid’s expression turned miserable. She put her own teacup down with a fine rattle. “Aphros made me swear by Zeus Horkios not to tell you.”

  Amphitrite felt a flicker of shock. What in the world would prompt her son to require the gods’ most unbreakable oath from his aunt?

  Unless.
.. “Does this have something to do with Poseidon?”

  Hyacinth remained silent, but her discomfort said volumes.

  So it did involve Poseidon. “He came to my home unannounced a few days ago,” Amphitrite said. “He was babbling something about Medusa. I ordered him to leave. Does your oath…” Her throat went dry. “Does it have to do with Poseidon and Medusa?”

  Hyacinth gave her a wretched look. “Ammie, I can’t say anything. You know that.”

  “No, of course you can’t. It’s all right.” If Aphros had invoked Zeus Horkios, he was unlikely to reveal anything he knew about his father’s activities to her, and Bythos would be just as closemouthed. Ian was easier to finagle, she suspected, but it was very likely that Poseidon hadn’t told his new son-in-law anything useful.

  There was no hope for it. She would have to beard the lion in his den. “Thank you, Hy,” she said, standing up and brushing a few wayward crumbs from her lap. “I’m sorry to eat and run, but I think I need to speak to Poseidon. And no,” she held up a slim hand, “I won’t bring you into the conversation.”

  Hyacinth looked torn between relief and dismay. Even so, Amphitrite was mildly surprised when her sister skirted the table and wrapped her in a strong hug.

  “I wish you all the happiness in the world, Ammie,” Hyacinth murmured into her hair. “Of all the people I know, you truly deserve it.”

  Amphitrite hugged her back. “Thank you, Hy.” Wondering what she was going to find, she opened a portal to Olympus and stepped through.

  But Poseidon wasn’t in his palace, and his daimons, once they’d gotten over the surprise of seeing her, informed her that their master hadn’t been home for days and they had no idea where he’d gone. Another portal to Greece and a lift from a friendly dolphin delivered her to the undersea palace she’d once shared with Poseidon.

  Very little had changed about the place, she noted, eyeing the well-maintained courtyard with its shimmering marble columns and manicured seaweed topiary. A number of staff swam out to meet her, the awestruck mers quickly escorting her inside the palace.

  There she met a dignified mer who introduced himself as Cam, Poseidon’s steward. “I’m afraid you just missed m’lord,” he informed her after sending one of his underlings off for refreshments. “He was here last night. I’m afraid he didn’t inform me of his current location, however.”