How amusing. This fellow really dared to poke the war god.
“I was ordered to stop looking for these women and concentrate on locating a strange energy source. So I followed Huxley and the doctor to the western part of the state to do just that, when you fucking call me back. What the hell?” The human unleashed a roar of frustration, picked up a paperweight and threw it at the wall with a resounding crash. “I need a better job description,” he growled. “You gods are fucked in the head.”
He finally threw himself into a chair across the desk from Erra, who had leaned back and simply scowled.
Scowled? The big, bad god should have been doing some torturous killing at this point. Things were not going as planned. It was clearly time to take charge. The invisible one sighed. Hopefully one god-speak head call should set the whole damned thing straight, but pretending to be King Nergal had lost its appeal. Perhaps this would be the last time.
****
I don’t understand, Erra complained.
What the fuck? The deity sneered. Had the war god turned pussy?
The god steepled his fingers and continued. You want me to target the women again. But when we met at Dagon’s mating ceremony, you said—in front of Ereshkigal, Marduk, and several others—that you had dropped your vendetta. You actually suggested I should change the mission of our Plymouth employees, and help the Blue Hills gods instead of targeting them.
The one pretending to be Nergal listened to Erra grouse. This whole situation had gotten messy. It wasn’t easy planning a coup. Damn the Underworld king. When Nergal had gone topside―joined by his wife, Ereshkigal, and that interfering bitch, Ishtar-Dinitu―the king had forgotten his original, evil intentions. Time for some damage control.
Of course I said all that. What did you expect? I needed to keep everyone off guard, and make my wife complacent. Forget everything I told you. We remain on track with our initial plan. Find these Chosen and put an end to them before they become goddesses.
In response to that specific order, the invisible being―instead of receiving blind compliance from Erra―saw his hesitation. I think we should meet to discuss strategy. When can you recall me to the Underworld for a face-to-face?
Not satisfactory. Why the fuck did Erra hedge? No. I’m very busy and need you to take the lead on this. I don’t have time to see you, so stop bothering me, and get to work. Do you have a death wish? Maybe it’s time to replace you?
The impostor severed the connection before receiving an answer. Dammit. This would not do. Erra was obviously suspicious, and quite possibly aware of the fact he wasn’t speaking to the real Nergal. A new contact would have to be made. The pretender’s face lightened. The human male in the room―the one who seemed eager to do most anything. That mortal seemed to have a penchant for the violence the task required. What had Erra called him? Michael? Malachi? Matthew. That was it. A plan began to form.
“So what did the king have to say?” The new subject of interest, Matthew, questioned the war god.
Erra answered in his halting English. “You…lay low to…new orders come. I watch Blue Hills.”
Hmph. It was official. Erra had changed sides like Dagon.
“You stay here,” Erra continued. “Make men spar. In gym room.”
“Yeah, okay, boss.” Matthew got to his feet, looking unhappy. “But there’s another problem. If the guys I hired don’t see some action really soon, they’re going to be sparring with my head,” he hissed. “I promised these criminals some travel, good money, and all the unwilling females they could want. So far, only the money has panned out.”
Erra gave the human a shrug, and misted out. Clearly the war god could no longer be trusted.
Matthew left the room quickly after rounding up a group of men, and immediately got them honing their hand-to-hand with a minimum of grousing. Interestingly, he dangled the carrot that they were only a few days away from some real action, and the invisible being―who had followed the human―laughed. His words might be more truth than fiction. When Matthew walked back to the office, he closed his eyes and put his feet up on the massive desk.
With his head back and his hands linked behind his neck, he mumbled aloud, “Life has definitely become more entertaining since the gods showed up, but I fucking wish the boss in the Underworld would make up his mind and get me and the guys some action. They’re ready. I’m ready…shit. It’s all balled up.”
“Hello, Matthew.” She evoked a sultry tone from her position in the shadowed corner of the room. Matthew dropped his legs and spun around to confront his unknown intruder. When he saw her, his jaw dropped, and he blinked in surprise. She knew what he observed. A long, tall Egyptian-looking woman stretched out across the top of filing cabinets.
“Wh—who are you, and how do you know my name?” Matthew stammered.
“I know everything about you.” She swung her long legs over the edge of the cabinets, exposing what she determined to be just the right amount of thigh. Her black, ankle-length dress was slit almost up to her waist.
Matthews’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “Are you a…goddess?” He sounded gobsmacked. “Because I’ve never seen a human who looks like you. Not in my entire life.”
She kind of liked that this Matthew fellow didn’t have a filter between his brain and his mouth. But she also needed him to know she would be a demanding and unforgiving boss if he crossed certain lines. She narrowed her eyes, letting a bit of malevolence leak out, and got a glimpse of the terror he attempted to hide. Good. He knew what it meant to be prey. She saw his Adam’s apple bob.
“I know where you’re from.” He dared. “You’re from the Underworld and you’re here to tempt me into doing something I’ll regret.” He stared in fascination at her chest, where more than a little cleavage—and perhaps even the edge of a dark nipple—peeked out.
“You, my handsome human, are far beyond redemption even now.” She laughed at him. “Nothing I could do would make your descent to hell any better or worse than it already is.” She dropped lightly to the floor.
Matthew was clearly tall. Over six feet. But she stood only a few inches shorter. She could see his nostrils flare as she glided closer, swiveling her hips provocatively.
“Go ahead. Touch me,” she purred. “I know that’s exactly what you want to do.” She swung her long, straight, black hair over her shoulder and raised her patrician’s nose.
Matthew swallowed convulsively. “What’s the catch?” He rose slowly to his feet, his eyes fixed on her.
She preened under his stare, and if the front of his pants grew any larger, his cock would burst through. It seemed he could barely hold himself back. “You gods never give something for nothing,” his voice croaked.
“Come now,” she chided. “You and I simply need to get to know each other better so I can”—she looked at the front of his pants pointedly—”determine how well we’ll work together.” She waved her fingers toward the stout, pine door to the office and it slammed shut. The lock clicked into place an instant later.
She looked him up and down deliberately. She’d seen better specimens amongst humans, but Matthew’s shoulders were broad, and his unruly blond hair intrigued her twitching fingers. His deep, brown eyes were the only troubling bit. They sat a little too close together, but she hoped the hearty bulge in his pants would make up for that flaw.
“Take off your clothes,” she ordered, watching him carefully.
Matthew spluttered at her forcefulness. “Is this some kind of a joke?” His voice pitched high in fear. “Erra put you up to this. It’s punishment for something I did wrong, isn’t it?” He looked the goddess over. “You have knives? With that fucking war god, I wouldn’t put castration out of the question.” He shivered. “You gods seem downright archaic with your ideas of retribution.”
“Pah,” she dismissed. “Erra. He will no longer be calling the shots. I’m your new boss.” She grew impatient. “Now strip.”
Matthew had clearly never had a woman come
on this strongly, and despite the fear, he looked intrigued. Not knowing what she was capable of appeared to be a huge turn-on for him. “Fine. But you first,” he dared.
She almost laughed. Interesting. This one would not submit without some fight.
“Let me see your tits.” His tongue snuck out to nervously lick his lower lip.
She narrowed her eyes, weighing the appropriate response. Okay. She’d let him get away with it just this once before she turned the tables.
“Of course,” she said, reaching up. She shrugged the dress off her shoulders and let the two halves drop to her waist, revealing her full, taut breasts.
Sweat broke out along Matthew’s jaw. Lovely. He liked what he saw. Her nipples rose under his scrutiny, deep, dark, and scarlet, and suddenly she needed them pinched and bitten.
“Well?” she inquired.
He needed no further invitation. Her ample flesh had stripped away his suspicions. He reached his hands up to her warm, beckoning breasts.
“Overflowing,” he sighed. “Oh yeah. I love generous tits.” He reached for her peaks, rolling the hard tips between his thumbs and forefingers. She bit down on her tongue to keep her reaction contained. Instead, she’d give Matthew something better. Her hands unerringly traveled to his belt, and drew it out through the loops.
“Suck my breasts,” she demanded, and Matthew dropped his hands to bend and replace them with his tongue and teeth. The goddess caressed him from shoulders down to his wrists while he did, and thrust his hands behind his back and bound them with his own belt before he could even blink.
“What the hell?” A look of horror came to his face.
She pushed him back against the desk and skewered him with a dark look. “Let’s get this straight, human male. I am always in charge, and you do as I say,” she hissed. “Do I make myself clear?”
Matthew looked both terrified and excited, but not stupid enough to disagree. “I understand…mistress.” It seemed he added the “mistress” moniker somewhat spontaneously.
“I like that.” Her mouth quirked. “Just as long as you know who is in control.” She reached to the front of his pants and yanked down his zipper. His prick sprang free. “Very good. None of those tiresome undergarments many humans wear.” She eyed his equipment. “I think we can make do with this.”
In fact, she couldn’t suppress a smile, exceedingly happy that he was well endowed. What at first had been planned as a chore, looked to be quite enjoyable. Matthew smiled back as she gripped the hard length of his cock in her hand. Oh yes, she’d make sure he got pleasure from this as well.
“Lie back on the desk.” She wasted no time and swept the surface clean of papers and books. “Your hands will be slightly uncomfortable under your ass, but I promise you won’t be thinking about them for very long.” She shimmied out of the rest of her dress, revealing a flat stomach, lean thighs, and a patch of black hair that covered her sex.
Matthew licked his lips. “If there’s one thing I can never fathom, it’s the need women have to shave their mounds.” He hopped up onto the desk at her bidding, and crooned, “I love a nice, lush bush, and yours is oh-so-fine.” He slid back onto the surface and reclined, his feet hanging off one end, drawing in a breath as she sat her naked ass next to his shoulder.
She twisted to her knees, and swore he stopped breathing as she brought one leg across to straddle his face, slowly lowering her wanting pussy until she hovered above his mouth.
“Now suck it,” she demanded. “And you better make it good.”
Matthew groaned and complied wholeheartedly. He blew across her wetness and she shuddered. With a skill that defied her original opinion of his abilities, he teased her clit, moving his mouth—with no tongue yet—back and forth across the sensitive nub to make her moan. She ground against him, relishing the pressure and wanting more. He thrust his tongue up inside of her aching channel, fast and hard, but then drew back and paused, dipping in for a light taste.
“I’ve never eaten a pussy with a flavor like yours,” he moaned. “It washes down my throat like sweet honey.”
Frustration ate at her as she’d come near to orgasm. And now the asshole had the nerve to talk? Her fingers threaded into his hair, and she pulled his head up hard into her pussy. “Save the pretty words and move, damn you,” she whispered. Shit. How long had it been since she’d had an orgasm? She was so close. Just a little bit more…. Matthew scraped his teeth, ever so lightly over her swollen clit, and she shattered into a million brilliant pieces, screaming her completion.
She trembled above him, and after giving herself a moment to regain her equilibrium, she drew her sopping cunt away from him and met his eyes. Matthew―the smug, asshole―seductively licked the cream from his mouth, never flinching from her intense gaze. She blinked first. Okay. Enough of that. Time to take charge again.
“I think you deserve a reward for that,” she purred, unable at first, to bring the commanding tones back to her voice. Not to worry. She didn’t mind softening up a bit as she fucked him. She skimmed her hot sex down his body, belly to belly, shimmying into place above his twitching cock. There was no need to use her hands. He was rock hard, and she was dripping wet. The combination made them join, to the hilt in one quick thrust.
She could, oddly, hear his thoughts as he became sheathed in her tight pussy. An anomaly she’d never experienced with a human.
How long can I last? It feels so fucking good. And then, Ah, what the hell. She’s already had her orgasm. It’s my turn. Matthew readied to let himself go.
“Don’t come,” she commanded. She stilled above him, withdrawing all but the tip of his cock from her sopping pussy. She reached a hand around and pinched him lightly between his balls as a warning. “I will work myself on you until I am complete and only then will it be your turn. Do I make myself clear?”
He nodded once, sweat beading on his upper lip, and she released his balls to resume her undulations, slowly dragging her pussy up and down his thick staff.
Her orders must have turned him on. His cock became even more rigid in her sheathe. And as she deliberately and slowly gyrated and twisted on his rod, he used his bound hands in one swift, grunting motion to move his dangling legs up onto the desk. With this new purchase, he dug his heels into the wood and thrust up into her quivering cunt, yet she bit back her elation and chose to tease him more. “I bet you wonder what punishment I have in mind if you shoot off before I come,” she taunted, barely able to take a breath.
“Maybe it’s not quite the right time to find out.” He threw back between clenched teeth. “Stop talking so I can hold back.” He drove up into her hard. Once, twice.
She gave a loud cry and couldn’t stop the exquisite rise. Reaching, reaching. She fell over the edge, her inner walls clenched around him, milking his hard tool and pulsating with completion. She reveled in the fullness of his cock up inside her, even as her breathing returned to normal.
“Let me come,” he groaned.
She leaned down and bit his nipple. Hard. “Now you can…bad boy.”
Matthew ejaculated so violently, she thought his prick would explode. He shot his load into her willing cunt until she was sure she’d sucked his entire body dry.
Matthew gazed up at her in a semi-stupor, blinking, while she sat on his softening sex, lifting the hot mass of hair off her neck. “Nice,” she allowed. “I have a feeling we’re going to work very well together, human,” she added smugly.
He looked up at her, so obviously replete but―by the glint in his eyes which she could totally appreciate―already scheming. “Yes…mistress.”
She smiled down at him. “Oh. No need for the formality now,” she preened. “You can call me Ereshkigal.”
Chapter Seven
“I don’t know. I think it was probably a mistake.” Marduk kicked himself again for allowing the interaction on Rainsford Island. “It isn’t like me to get caught up in the spur of the moment. I have a feeling something is going to go horribly wrong.”
“Don’t beat yourself up.” Enlil perched comfortably in the patio chair across from Marduk, drinking a sweating glass of iced coffee. The two were addicted to the caffeine drink, and had only just discovered, through Holly, the joys of drinking it over ice. “Sometimes we just need to lighten up and enjoy things.”
“Do you remember the last time we cavorted that way with humans?” Marduk sighed. “It was back in Merrymount, the night of the May Day festival.”
Marduk knew Enlil had his own keen memories of that night. His remained fresh, although nearly four hundred years had passed.
Marduk had been pent up and nervous, standing outside on the periphery of the village, watching the antics of the inhabitants unfold as they danced around the Maypole and drank copious amounts of the grain alcohol that had been produced the previous year.
The native tribes taking part in the celebration had been represented by a large group of Nipmuck, a few Abenaki’s from Maine, several women from the nearby Neponset tribe and a good number of Wampanoag. The last being the cause of Marduk’s unease.
Their visitors from the south were known to be friends with the Pilgrims of Plymouth and beholden to Myles Standish, no ally to the founder of the Merrymount colony, Thomas Morton. Amongst the dancing and revelry, guns and salt had exchanged hands―a huge thorn in the side of Standish, who also staunchly disagreed with Morton’s loose manner of practicing Christianity. Marduk had been aware that the night could end badly, and kept vigil while others caroused.
Enlil, on the other hand, had made it a point to reacquaint himself with a particular robust woman from the Neponset tribe, with whom he had enjoyed keeping company the previous summer. It seemed the woman had some fond memories of Enlil as well, and Marduk had watched her deliberately seek out the wind god. Enlil’s hands had most likely been filled to the brim with warm breasts when all hell had broken loose.
The Wampanoag had indeed been keeping tabs on the Merrymount inhabitants―under Dagon’s direction, it turned out―and had reported back to Standish early enough so he arrived with his militia as the party was in full swing.
Frozen Stiff Page 6