Frozen Stiff

by L. J. Vickery

I can’t wait to have all this below-zero in my warm mouth…she said, unrelenting…or between my legs.

  That was it. He was done. Enten shot off like he’d never come before in his life. His throat closed up on a moan he knew the nurses would have heard out at their station if his vocal chords had been working. His balls drew up, frosty, and his back arched. Icy shards surged up in his cock and burst out to cover Glory’s hand, his belly, and the sheet he couldn’t quite get out of the way in time. The storm raged. The sleet erupted. Until finally his flanks went lax, and he shivered, completely spent. The tempest subsided, and Glory stroked him slowly as he came down from his storm.

  When his breathing settled, she lifted her hand from his still-turgid flesh and, opening her lips, brought her fingers to her tongue, tasting the frozen essence of him with a satisfied smile.

  That’s some sweet honey, she purred. I knew I would like it.

  Enten couldn’t speak. He couldn’t think. This was all too much and too good. He could almost feel the bite of tears at the back of his throat, but it had to be his stitches acting up. Sure. That was it.

  He whipped the now useless sheet off the bed and used it to clean her hand, and everything else that needed mopping up. He covered her with an extra blanket from the closet, and by the time he was finished, Glory was sound asleep with an angelic look on her face.

  Damn. In the morning she would wish none of this had ever happened. Her peaceful presence broke through his chill, and cracked the surface ice surrounding his heart. All of a sudden he grew warm. Very warm.

  Gods. He’d known it. His shoulder glowed like a motherfucker.

  Regrets or not, it was now official. Glory was totally screwed. He would never let her go.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Matthew opened his eyes and blinked. He remembered shooting the lunging god, and calling for Ereshkigal. Ereshkigal…he must be wherever it was she resided, but it didn’t much look like a place any good god would call home.

  He glanced around the tiny chamber, and what he saw did nothing warm and fuzzy to his guts. He lay on a hard-packed dirt floor that led up to rough, rocky walls. The only thing in the room besides him was a length of chain on the floor, and some lumpy old rags that had seen better days. There was light coming from somewhere, so he was able to see everything.

  Matthew rose slowly to his feet, and noticed he still clutched his gun. Yup, at least he remembered correctly. He’d been screwed, and then his rescue call had been answered. He brushed off his jeans, keeping his eyes up and alert, taking a few tentative steps in the direction of an arched doorway cut into the rock. It seemed to be the only way out of the small room where he’d landed.

  Moving quietly, he put his back to one wall, gun raised in both hands, while he inched his way toward the portal. His foot crunched down on something loudly. Shit.

  “Matthew? Are you awake?”

  The voice that haunted his dreams called through the doorway, and despite his trepidation, Matthew’s shaft stirred, unable to quell its interest. “Yeah. I’m here.” He lifted his foot to see what he’d stepped on and couldn’t help the “eww,” that escaped from his lips. It was the remnants of a human jawbone, complete with teeth and what appeared to be an ossified, severed tongue skewered on one particularly sharp incisor. A laugh came from the other room.

  “Oh, don’t mind him.” His hostess laughed. “He didn’t perform up to par.”

  Matthew shivered, reminding himself that if he engaged in further activity with this unpredictable goddess, he needed to make sure he kept her well satisfied.

  “Join me, human. I would hear what you’ve been up to and why you called me to help you.”

  Matthew lowered his gun and moved toward the sultry voice. The chamber he entered was vastly bigger than the one he’d been in and luxuriously appointed…for a cave. Lush rugs covered the floor in rich hues of red and gold. Large, dark furniture including a spacious flat desk, an oversized wardrobe, and a draped, four-poster bed were positioned strategically around the room. Silk-woven tapestries covered the walls and a blue-lit pool of bubbling water called invitingly from one corner, next to a curtained doorway that probably housed a toilet.

  It seemed to Matthew that this room served as office, bedroom, and bath. And other than food preparation, it provided the goddess with her main living quarters.

  “Ereshkigal,” he said with enthusiasm, bowing and showing her how pleased he was to be in her presence again.

  She looked around quickly, focusing on a large wooden portal across the way that stood partially opened, and narrowed her eyes forcing it shut with a shot of energy in its direction.

  “Here, in my home, you will not address me by name,” she bit out the sharp command. “I will only be known as my lady as long as you are in attendance. Do I make myself clear?”

  “Yes, my lady.” Matthew nodded his head. He’d call her anything she wanted, if it kept him in her good graces.

  She nodded abruptly. “Sit.” She pointed to a seat opposite the one she occupied at her desk. “Tell me why you called.”

  She didn’t exactly seem welcoming, which made Matthew a little nervous considering the state of the visitor’s remains in the other room, but he plastered a smile to his face and graciously took a seat.

  “A few days ago, I read the morning newspaper and saw a picture of the god Anshar, along with another―obviously of the same ilk―but with a face I didn’t recognize…a newly visible face.” He saw Eresh’s eyes narrow. “This made me suspicious that an unknown woman was in play who could make this god physical.”

  His hostess nodded, but leaned forward, showing more interest.

  “I located the ad agency that took the picture, and by breaking into their office and computers, I identified the only woman who could have been responsible for the transformation.”

  “Which god was made corporeal?” his lady interrupted impatiently.

  “His name is odd.” Matthew knew he should have paid more attention to this detail, but how could he keep all the bizarre names straight? “Something that begins with an E.”

  “Enlil?” The goddess breathed, her eyes growing dark and her mouth twisting tightly.

  “No, that’s not it.” Matthew was glad he wasn’t this Enlil. The hell-cat obviously had it out for the dude.

  “Emesh? Enten…?”

  “Enten. That’s it. Cold bastard.” Matthew remembered the glacial look in the god’s eyes just before he’d shot him.

  “God of winter,” the goddess intoned, sounding frustrated. “Of all the gods who had to get lucky, why him?” she muttered. “I’ve never had any problem with him. He’s always been considered untouchable, not a sought after male. He’s not the first whom I would target for some revenge.” She tapped her lip. “Ah, well.” Ereshkigal brightened. “As much as it surprises me that Enten has located his Chosen, beggars can’t be choosers. What is his woman’s name?”

  “Gloria Wingfeather. She lives and works in Northampton.”

  “Nice job. Now tell me what ensued.” His hostess got down to business now.

  “Her mother is sick, in some kind of a facility. So―along with a couple of my guys―I took the mother hostage. We made the exchange for Glory, and took off with her, heading toward Plymouth.” That was the good part, and Matthew hadn’t hesitated to tell it. Now, he slowed down, and looked everywhere but at the goddess’s face.

  “I don’t know how they tracked us. Our vigilance remained high, but a couple of gods appeared in my car on the Mass Pike and forced us to the side of the highway. They got the drop on my two guys, but I acted quickly, and managed to get my hands on the woman. I had her held at gunpoint when I called you to get us out of there.”

  “And?” She raised an imperious brow, and this time didn’t look pleased.

  Matthew gulped. “The idiot god, Enten, lunged at the last minute and grabbed her away. But I got off a shot before I disappeared. I think I might have killed him…”

  “Fool.” Five-foot
eleven-inches of irate beauty suddenly stood before him. Matthew swallowed, transfixed.

  “You can’t kill a god that easily, and you let the woman slip through your hands,” she railed. “If you had called to me earlier, we would have had her.”

  “I…I used osmium bullets,” he said hopefully.

  “Pah,” she spat. “It will only slow his recovery.” She paced in agitation.

  Matthew couldn’t keep his eyes from the magnificent goddess. He knew he should be afraid as fuck, but all he could think about was grabbing her around the waist, turning her over the desk, and screwing her from behind while she screamed. She was so freaking gorgeous when angry.

  Some part of his intent must have made its way through her ire, because she stopped her tirade and brought her eyes down to the now prominent bulge in Matthew’s pants.

  “What’s this? You like it when I’m furious.” She made it a statement. Matthew’s cock twitched in anticipation.

  “What would you do to me right now…if I let you?” Her voice held a definite challenge.

  Matthew growled. “I’d lift that god damned skirt up over your ass, bend you face down onto your desk, and fuck the shit out of you.” He wasn’t being careful, and that was probably stupid, but he felt so frigging turned on.

  Her eyes sparkled at his declaration, and he did an internal fist pump. Looked like she was charged up too.

  “Do it then,” she ordered. “It’s been a long time since anyone has dared take control with me, but I believe I might like it. Even though I can snap you in two like a twig,” she warned.

  Shit. He would fuck her, no holds barred. And she would love it.

  Matthew didn’t waste another second. He grabbed Eresh roughly around the waist and yanked her dress up with one fast pull. Holding it out of the way, he laughed low in his throat. “No panties. I like that.” Digging his fingers into her bare flesh, he turned her abruptly, and using his right forearm, pressed her down onto the hard surface of her work space. His other hand was busy with his own zipper.

  He didn’t bother to remove his pants, he shoved her thighs apart with his jeans-clad knee and positioned the head of his cock at her slit, probing, not so gently.

  “Are you wet for me, bitch?” he taunted in her ear. “Do you need my fingers first?” Removing his cock from her entrance, he abruptly thrust a finger into her pussy, hearing her gasp and loving it. She already dripped wetly, coating his hand with her honey.

  He removed his finger and slapped her upturned ass cheek hard. “Ready for me, are you?” he ground out, and before she could answer, he went balls deep in one thrust. He buried himself relentlessly in her quivering snatch.

  She moaned her approval and worked back against him as he reamed her again, even harder.

  Five thrusts and he could tell she was so close, but he drew back to leave just the head of his rod embedded.

  “Tell me you want it,” he rasped. “Tell me you want me to pound you until you come.”

  “Yes.” She breathed. “More.”

  He slapped her ass again, reddening her other cheek and brought both thumbs down to her pussy, pressing her lips out and spreading her wide.

  “Hold on, baby.” He pistoned his hips, driving into her wet cunt with his iron-hard prick again and again until she finally seized up and yielded, coming with a scream that stroked his libido higher. The milking spasms that grabbed his cock gave him permission to find his own release, which he did with a roar, pulling out and coming all over the glowing, pink skin of her ass. He pressed a finger under her steaming pussy, finding her sensitive clit, and rubbed her into the last quaking throws of ecstasy.

  Matthew leaned in. It was all he could do to remain standing. Shit, that had been good; probably the best damned orgasm he’d ever had. But he knew better―had known better―and still he hadn’t been able to resist taking her the way he wanted to, hard, fast and relentlessly. If he were to be put to death now, Ereshkigal had better do it quickly. Right now, he could at least die a happy man.

  The goddess beneath her new favorite human thought of anything but his death, even though it had crossed her mind earlier. He’d just given her the best orgasm she’d had in centuries, and was that even possible? How the hell could this mortal be a better fuck than almost any god she’d ever had? He had gone at her like a pit-bull when most of her previous lovers had never dared show teeth. It was probably his ignorance; the fact he didn’t know her reputation and how dangerous she was purported to be. Well, they said ignorance was bliss, and as long as he continued to make her blissful, she wouldn’t mess with things.

  It remained, however, a good time to remind him just who was in charge, so he wouldn’t get too high on himself. That said, she also wanted to make sure to praise him so he didn’t turn all “wuss” on her. It was a fine line to walk.

  “Matthew, darling.” She purred at him. “Do me a favor and clean me up.”

  Matthew grunted, sounding a little amazed at her request, but bless him, he looked around. Clearly he didn’t see anything he could use for wiping, so instead he drew her to her feet, stripped her out of her remaining bit of dress―now clinging with sweat to her swollen breasts―and picked up all five-foot-eleven of her. She thrilled. He held her effortlessly, striding fifteen feet to the blue pool to gently lower her in.

  Without asking, he pulled off his own jeans and shirt and kicked them away to join her in the water, sinking down until his ass rested on a rock ledge. He pulled her onto his lap.

  “Is this what you had in mind?” he spoke gruffly. She could feel his cock swell under her ass, and she squirmed deliberately.

  “This will do fine.”

  Matthew quickly grew rock hard again. Gods. He was a lively one. As much as she needed him taking care of her business up on the surface, she was tempted by his prowess to keep him here.

  She squashed that thought immediately. Within a few days, Nergal’s meeting of the gods would be in full swing and the Underworld would be crawling with company. It wouldn’t do for anyone to find her human down below. Not only that, but he had screwed up his chance to get the latest Chosen, and had to go back and finish the job.

  “Matthew. I appreciate your…talents, but I feel the need to warn you. As much as I enjoy your show of strength, I am still in charge.”

  The goddess could tell Matthew paid more attention to her chest than to her words, as his hand came up to pinch one scarlet nipple. He needed a sharper reminder of the consequences if he failed to remember who truly was the boss. She drew his head down, running her tongue around the whorl of his ear.

  “Do you know those dreams you’ve been having lately, my darling? Hmm? The ones starring…me?” She drew back and looked at him coyly under her lashes. His fingers stilled in their mission. He turned a little green. Certainly this would do.

  She raised her hand, twirling it above her head, and a drawer next to her bed slowly slid open. A finely crafted box inlaid with bright jewels drifted across the room and lowered itself next to Matthew’s arm. He gave her a trapped, frightened look.

  “Go ahead, open it.” She knew her eyes darkened and her mouth took on a purposely sinister cast.

  He knew what kind of a present awaited. His hand fumbled toward the delicate lace fastenings that held the box closed, and worked them free. With the other hand, he reached across her body and opened the lid.

  His breath caught, and he stifled a shiver.

  Good boy.

  Nestled deep in a loving cradle of velvet, smelling of sex and leather, was the cock-shaped strap-on that had, a few days prior, awakened Matthew in a cold sweat.

  A similar sweat overtook him now and, shakily, his hands closed the cover very gently.

  She gave him a satisfied smile. Her point had been made. Be a good boy, or be her bitch. It was his game to lose.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “How did it go?” Marduk raised his head from his desk, inquiring about the trip to and from the hospital. He gave Enlil his undivided atten
tion.

  “You mean, despite the arctic temperature in the car, which not only showcased Enten’s talents but nearly froze over from Huxley’s and Dani-Lee’s attitudes?” Enlil had just accompanied the couple to the hospital to pick up Glory and Enten. “Shit. If Huxley doesn’t get his head out of his ass soon, and do something about Dani, I’m all for booting him out of the compound until he grows a pair.” Enlil pushed blond braids off his face and rotated his head, stretching his neck muscles. “Now we’ve got Enten with a stick up his ass, as well. Can’t these guys just claim their females and be done with it? On the ride to the hospital, Doc Dani huddled in the back seat with her nose buried in her cell phone. On the way home, Dani was between Enten and Glory, and neither of them even looked at each other. Fucking weird.”

  “But how did things go at the hospital?” Marduk brought Enlil back to his original question.

  “Hmph,” the wind god grunted. “You were right to send me. Getting Glory discharged wasn’t that tough a deal, but a few big-wigs had gotten a load of Enten’s temperature and prepared him for a battery of tests. You could see them salivating over his cold body. It took some doing, but I managed to compel all of them into believing he was normal. Dani stole the chart off his bed and rummaged around in the computer system to wipe it clean.”

  “I’m glad that went smoothly, because we have another problem.” Marduk rubbed the spot between his eyes.

  “What’s up?” Enlil plunked his ass down on Marduk’s desk.

  “We can’t find our friendly neighborhood god of war, and I really need Erra to round up his ex-employee Matthew, to get some answers before I call Nergal.”

  It was never a good idea to piss off the god of the Underworld, and accusing Nergal’s wife, Ereshkigal, of conspiring with a dangerous human without details would be yanking on the king’s tail pretty hard.

  “Have you put Kulla on it?” Enlil asked.

  “I did. As soon as I remembered that Kulla’s brother, Kabta, still visited from the Overworld, I sent the god of bricks back to his home to see if Erra was there.” There remained a good chance the god of war stayed in the Overworld, trying to make time with Ereshkigal’s sister. “But I haven’t heard back, and time is growing short.”