Deep Water

by Nicola Cameron

  “Right there,” he heard Amphitrite said. “Keep that angle, beloved.”

  “Will do. One brainless fucking, coming up.”

  Every stroke now hit that one needy spot, the one that made Poseidon want to beg for more, harder, yes. Amphitrite’s mouth came down over his own, and he fed at it hungrily, thrusting his tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm that Griffin was thrusting into his body.

  She moaned around his dancing tongue, finally tearing her mouth away. “Now, Griffin. I need him now.”

  “Yes, dear.” Griffin pulled out, urging Poseidon to turn over. The god scooped his consort under his body as he did, easing her thighs open and pushing his own rigid cock into the warm sweetness between them just as Griffin pushed back into him.

  Amphitrite’s mouth dropped open as he thrust into her for the first time in millennia. “Yes! Love, yes!”

  “My love,” he growled, sinking into her willing body and feeling Griffin do the same to him. It was better than anything he’d ever experienced, eclipsing by far any tumble he’d ever had in his very long lifetime.

  We’re together, finally. We’re complete.

  He kissed his consort, putting his entire heart and soul into the kiss as he drove into her over and over again. “Good?”

  “Good.” She was breathless, cheeks already flushed with color and desire. “Griffin?”

  “Fuck yes,” was the groaned reply. “God, I love you both so much.”

  “And I love you both as well,” she gasped out. One of her hands wrapped around Poseidon’s forearm, clinging to him while the other one reached past his shoulder to touch Griffin. “My loves.”

  “I love you, Ammie. I love you, Griff. Forever, I swear it.” He moaned as his long-stoked orgasm finally began to make itself known. “I can’t hold back much longer.”

  “Make her come first,” Griffin ordered.

  Panting, Poseidon obeyed, slipping a hand between their sweat-wet bodies and finding Amphitrite’s clit. He slid two fingers down either side of the erect nub, rubbing it between them.

  His consort keened long and loud, pelvis coming up hard into his own as he drove her to ecstasy. Those wonderful interior muscles fluttered around his cock, milking it.

  He closed his eyes and let go of everything, coming hard and pouring every ounce of his hoarded love into his consort. His own muscles clamped down hard on Griffin’s shaft, rippling uncontrollably along it and doubling his own pleasure. He could both hear and feel Griffin shouting as his mate’s cock thickened inside him, then went rock hard. With one final thrust he felt his agapetos come inside him. It triggered an aftershock of his own orgasm, tiny but blazingly fierce.

  Griffin sagged onto his back, panting. “Oh, God. That was perfect.”

  “That it was,” Amphitrite said throatily, gazing up at Poseidon with love. “And you’re both wonderful, my loves.”

  “You’re the wonderful one, my lady.” Careful to keep the bulk of his weight (and Griffin’s, he noted with amusement) braced on his arms, Poseidon lowered himself to give Amphitrite a kiss. “Griffin?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, sorry.” The weight on his back disappeared, and he felt Griffin slide out of his body. “Oh, wow.”

  Poseidon blinked at Griffin’s tone. “What is it?”

  “Your back…”

  The awe in his mate’s voice prompted him to move off Amphitrite with care. He eased onto his hip, ignoring the ache in his ass. “Show me.”

  Griffin stared at him. “How? It’s on your back.”

  “It should be on all our backs,” Amphitrite said. “Please, Griffin, turn around.”

  Their mortal mate did, shifting until he was kneeling on the mattress facing away from them. In the middle of his back was a new tattoo, a beautifully colored rendering of Poseidon’s trident with a brown and white seahorse twined around it. Emerging from the shimmering blue background was the fiery orange hide of a Giant Pacific octopus, tentacles wrapped protectively around the seahorse and trident.

  Poseidon felt his smile grow until his cheeks ached. “It’s glorious,” he said, putting an arm around Amphitrite and pulling her close.

  Griffin peered over his shoulder. “Huh. Nice.” He turned around and sprawled along Amphitrite’s other side. “Is that the mating mark you were talking about?”

  Poseidon urged Amphitrite to turn over and snuggle into Griffin’s arms so that he could study the tattoo on her back, tracing the limning with a gentle finger. “Yes. The trident represents me. The seahorse, Ammie. The octopus must be you. Apparently the Fates noticed your fondness for cephalopods.”

  “It also means the Fates have blessed our union,” Amphitrite said, wriggling playfully under Poseidon’s tracing. “What they’ve joined, no one may put asunder.”

  “No divorce, huh?” Griffin stretched his arm across Amphitrite, letting his hand rest on Poseidon’s shoulder. “So you’re both stuck with me, then.”

  “Most willingly, beloved,” Poseidon said as Amphitrite turned her head, beaming at both of them.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Over the next few days Griffin decided to forget about his tumor and enjoy his new status as mate to a pair of divine beings. Not only was the sex astounding, but both Poseidon and Amphitrite gave him both the companionship and the emotional stability that he hadn’t even realized he’d been missing since his second divorce became final.

  Of course, he didn’t try to monopolize all of their time. They had a great deal of talking to do, and it made him happy to see them walking hand in hand down the beach deep in conversation, or out swimming in the cove. He’d offered the use of the Seabird, but Poseidon had demurred. “Sailing is enjoyable, beloved, but we need to be in direct contact with the sea. It … helps.”

  He wasn’t going to argue with that. And he certainly wasn’t going to argue with the pairs’ need to reconnect in more primal ways. Just that morning Griffin had started to walk into the cottage’s great room, then ducked back into the hallway after spotting a naked Amphitrite sitting on the breakfast bar, an equally naked Poseidon kneeling in front of her and licking greedily between her legs.

  Oh, come on. It’s not as if they can’t tell I’m here. Grinning, Griffin edged his head around the hallway corner and settled in to watch as his mates enjoyed a spot of morning cunnilingus.

  Eyes closed, Amphitrite had draped her legs over Poseidon’s bare shoulders, playing with her nipples and smiling contentedly while the god’s mouth worked between her legs. Her eyes opened slowly, and she winked at him.

  Thank you, beloved. Your lessons have done wonders for his technique.

  You’re more than welcome, my lady. Griffin licked his palm, then slid that hand into his shorts until he could grip his own rapidly swelling cock. He started a fast, brutal stroke, enjoying the triple threat of his hand on his cock, the visual of Poseidon kneeling in front of their woman and eating her out, and the mental wave of passion coming off both god and goddess.

  He came quickly, not bothering to smother his happy grunt. Amphitrite came almost immediately afterwards, pushing her pelvis into Poseidon’s willing face and grinding against it.

  Panting, she looked down at the sea god in adoration. “You’re wonderful, love.”

  “Thank you, my dear. And you’re delicious.” Poseidon shifted a bit, turning to smirk at Griffin. “As for you, beloved, it certainly felt like you had a good time.”

  Griffin pulled a sticky hand out of his shorts, holding it up and displaying the evidence. “Guilty.”

  “Well, then. Since you two have been pleased,” the god rolled to his feet, showing off a truly impressive erection. “Might I hope it’s my turn next?”

  Griffin raised an eyebrow at Amphitrite, who smiled. “Oh, I think we can work something out,” he said, sauntering towards them.

  After mercilessly double-teaming Poseidon against the bar, the three of them cycled through the cottage’s bathroom to clean up. Once they were dressed Poseidon shooed them out to the porch, announcing th
at he was going to cook brunch.

  Seated outside at the porch’s patio table, Amphitrite turned a bemused expression to Griffin. “He cooks now?”

  “Kind of,” Griffin hedged. “More like burning things with style. I think he’d pretty much got the hang of eggs down, though, if you don’t mind them scrambled. And somewhat overcooked. And occasionally green.”

  “I can hear you, you know,” drifted through the screen door.

  “Love you, pet,” Griffin called back.

  “Never mind,” Amphitrite said. “Practice makes perfect. And if there are any issues,” her lips quirked, “we can always go beg a meal from Aph.”

  Through the porch’s screening Griffin noticed two tall redheads and a shorter blond walking up the beach. “Speak of the devil.”

  Amphitrite turned in her chair. They both watched as the trio stopped in front of Nick’s cottage, pulling what looked like long poles out of the air. One demigod—Bythos, Griffin thought, from the clean-shaven face—stepped back while Aphros took Ian by the shoulders and positioned him on the sand, then took a spot in front of him.

  “What are they doing?” Griffin asked.

  “Starting Ian’s martial arts training,” Amphitrite said in approval. “Good. It’s well past time that they should have done that.”

  “Martial arts? You mean gods use karate?”

  Amphitrite chuckled, still watching her sons and son-in-law. “Gods use any sort of skill that will help them win in a fight, darling. In the old days every god and goddess learned how to fight. Even Aphrodite was an excellent shot with bow and arrow.”

  “Huh. So what are they teaching Ian?”

  The Nereid studied the trio on the beach. “From the looks of things, spear fighting. It’s the best way to start off learning how to handle a poled weapon. Once he has the basic maneuvers down, they can teach him how to use his trident in hand-to-hand combat. ”

  Suddenly the shine was off the morning. “You make it sound like he’s going into battle,” Griffin said.

  Amphitrite glanced back at him, serious now. “Everything that has happened over the last few months has centered around Ian,” she said. “The boys finding him again and becoming his mates, his new godhood, Nick coming here and taking on the Rod of Asclepius. Even Poseidon and I are here because of him. Whatever my sister’s end game is, I believe it will involve Ian. And he has to be ready for it.”

  Looking back to her sons, she tsked. “Oh, no. They’re going far too fast,” she said, getting to her feet. To Griffin’s surprise she left the porch, striding towards her sons.

  Griffin stood hastily and followed. When he caught up to her she was in mid-diatribe with a bemused Aphros, lecturing him on proper stances. “He may be a god now, but you still need to start out at quarter speed. He’ll never be able to follow the pattern if he can’t see it,” she said.

  “I already told him that,” Bythos said, leaning on his spear.

  “I believe I can teach my own mate how to defend himself, Mother,” Aphros said, red curls lifting in the breeze. “Ian’s not stupid—”

  “I’ve also never used a weapon in my life,” Ian interjected. “Hell, I’ve been using my trident more like a walking stick than anything.”

  “My point exactly. Here.” Amphitrite held out a hand for Aphros’s spear.

  He pulled it back. “I know what I’m doing, Mother,” he snapped.

  “Really?” She gave him a bright, pleasant smile that still managed to raise the hairs on the back of Griffin’s neck. “Well, then, you won’t mind giving us all a demonstration of that, will you?”

  This time she turned to Bythos and held her hand out. The grey-eyed twin immediately handed over his own spear. Hefting it, Amphitrite walked away about five feet, then turned. Her entire body language had changed, charged now with a fierce alertness.

  She jerked her chin at Griffin. “Beloved, move everyone back.”

  Griffin was not about to argue with a goddess holding a spear. “You heard the lady,” he said, shooing Ian and Bythos away from their mate. Ian seemed reluctant to go, but Griffin saw the small smile playing over Bythos’s face.

  “I don’t want her to get hurt,” he heard Ian say in an undertone to Bythos.

  The demigod chuckled. “Trust me, beloved. The only thing that’s in any real danger is my brother’s ego. It’ll do him some good to remember who first taught him how to fight.”

  With a space now cleared around the combatants, Griffin watched Aphros drop into a position much like his mother’s. “Ready,” he said, irritated.

  Amphitrite lifted the spear in both hands, pointing the tip at Aphros. “First pattern. Begin.”

  She advanced, planting each foot squarely on the sand. Her first move was an upward feint, then a thrust at her son’s thigh. He deflected the thrust, dancing back a bit before launching his own attack. She parried his spear, leaping to one side and using her body’s momentum to smack her spear shaft insultingly against his ass.

  He jumped back, rubbing the offended body part. “That’s not in the pattern.”

  She grinned at him, spinning her spear shaft lengthwise in her hands. “I thought you might have learned something new over the years,” she said. “Seems I was wrong.”

  The blue-eyed twin’s face changed at that, lighting with the heat of combat. What followed was a fast-pitched skirmish that looked like a cross between a bo stick fight, wire work from Hong Kong’s best action cinema, and something that Griffin suspected George Lucas would have given half of Skywalker Ranch to film.

  Aphros used his greater height and reach to thrust, slash, and parry, but Amphitrite used speed and dexterity to outmaneuver her son, luring him into traps that allowed her to put nicks and welts on his exposed skin. When he leapt into the air, trying to come at her from overhead, she ducked and did a forward somersault under him, coming to her feet and spinning in one smooth move that resulted in her knocking his newly-landed feet out from under him. He went sprawling, and she sprang forward, planting the tip of her spearhead directly between his shoulder blades.

  “Do you yield, darling?” she said sweetly.

  Aphros dug his fingers into the sand. She leaned on her spear, letting the sharp tip just pierce his skin. A thin trickle of red appeared.

  He relaxed, opening his hands in surrender. “I yield, Mother.”

  “Excellent.” She withdrew the spear tip and the small wound closed over immediately. “Now, may I assist you in teaching your agapetos how to fight?”

  “I’d say yes, brother, before she lays some more stripes on you,” Bythos called cheerily.

  The noise of the sparring had drawn interest. Liam and Aidan emerged from their cottage, followed by a yawning Nick. Amphitrite quickly roped all of them into sparring practice, setting the more experienced demigods and mermen with the task of instructing their mates.

  She turned to Griffin, giving him a considering look. “How are you feeling, beloved? Think you’re up to a bit of sparring?”

  He’d been feeling steadily better with the help of Poseidon’s seed, and his muscles were now nagging him for a proper workout. “I think I could manage that,” he said. “Just don’t gut me, all right? I don’t think even a week in bed with Poseidon could fix that.”

  She grinned. “I’ll do my best.”

  Aphros summoned more spears for them, and Amphitrite began running Griffin through the basic moves of spear fighting. Within a half hour Griffin’s muscles were screaming for mercy and he was drenched in sweat.

  He couldn’t remember when he’d had so much fun.

  “Wait, wait,” he puffed, clinging onto his spear for dear life. “Shit. I’m out of shape.”

  She leaned on her own weapon, giving him a sympathetic smile. “It’s no fault of your own. And to be honest you’re holding up better than Nick or Ian.”

  Still panting, Griffin glanced at the other fighting pairs. Aphros and Aidan were still hard at it, but Bythos had paused while Ian hung onto his spear much like G
riffin, gasping for air. Nick was spread-eagled on the sand while Liam stood over him chuckling.

  “Dammit, Jim, I’m a doctor, not a gladiator,” Nick wheezed, waving feebly. “Just let me die. Better yet, just stick the damn spear in me and put me out of my misery.”

  “That’ll happen later, pet, don’t you worry,” Liam said, hauling his mate into a sitting position. “Come on, up.”

  Griffin tried not to laugh as the doctor got to his feet, his entire face collapsing in a giant wince. “Okay, how about ‘I’m a lover, not a fighter’?”

  “That may be true,” Amphitrite called with amusement, “but it’s still good to be able to defend yourself.” She eyed Nick critically. “That being said, I think you’re done for the day. Why don’t you go sit in the hot tub for awhile?”

  The doctor looked pathetically grateful. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said, limping away to his cottage’s deck with a grinning Liam in tow.

  Griffin looped his free arm around Amphitrite, kissing her cheek. “That sounds like a good idea. I think I’m going to go back to the cottage and take a shower. Want to come?”

  She kissed him back. “Mm, not just yet,” she said. “I think these tadpoles still have some energy left that they need to work off.”

  Griffin had to smother another laugh as Ian gaped at Amphitrite. “Whoa, wait. Why do they get to stop?” the storm god complained.

  “They’re mortals, darling, and Griffin is still ill,” she said briskly. “But you’re a god. It’s time to really stretch your wings and find out what you can do.”

  Ian gave Griffin a hopeless glance. “Kill me now,” he mouthed.

  Griffin just shook his head in a cheerful way and limped off towards the cottage. You’re on your own, mate.

  ****

  After depositing a platter of only slightly scorched scrambled eggs on the patio table and getting a passing kiss from Griffin and a promise to eat after his shower, Poseidon watched in approval as his consort used a whirling spear and superb fighting skills to fling their sons, son-in-law, and mer neighbor around the beach.