by Sam Cheever
I grinned. “With makeup?”
He chuckled, keeping his dark, handsome face turned down, away from my probing gaze. I didn’t care what he said, his injuries were completely gone. There was no way to hide the wounds he’d had the night before with a little makeup.
I suddenly got a cold feeling in the pit of my stomach. Things just didn’t add up with Bion. I had been ignoring the little clues and oddities because I’d been so wrapped up in him and didn’t want to think too much about it for obvious reasons. But at that moment I realized I couldn’t ignore the little details any longer. I would have to confront him about some…things…that night.
Having made that decision, I realized I’d lost my appetite. I ate a couple more bites just so Bion wouldn’t pester me about the wonderful food I was leaving on my plate but it tasted like rubber and went down just about as easily.
I gave up trying to eat after a few minutes and sipped my water, looking around the restaurant.
“Do you have your gown yet?”
I turned to him with a jerk. “My gown? For what?”
He signaled to the waiter for the check. “For the ball.”
When I still looked perplexed he added, “The Valentine’s Ball.”
“Oh. Oh no, I just thought I’d wear something I have in my closet.”
He shook his dark head. “Not for this event you aren’t. You need a special dress.” He signed the credit slip and stood up. “Come on, you and I have some shopping to do.”
*
I tugged the bustier-type top of the elegant red gown up a little farther to hide at least a couple of inches of my boobs and frowned at my image in the mirror. The beautiful gown fell to my feet in a narrow column that hugged my breasts, waist and hips smoothly and frothed out slightly at the bottom, making me look like a movie star from the early days of Hollywood. The color went well with the midnight black of my hair and I thought, with a stunning pair of diamond drops in my ears and a matching necklace, I would look incredible. But somehow I knew the gown wasn’t quite right.
Bion’s initial reaction when he saw the gown confirmed my suspicion. He sat on a circular cushioned bench-type thing in the center of a room that was lined with mirrors, one long, muscular leg crossed over the other ankle to knee, man style. There had been two other couples in the room when we’d arrived but now I saw that we were alone. I was glad everyone else had left.
He stood when I came in and frowned, shaking his head almost immediately. “You look gorgeous, edible in fact. But that’s not the right dress.”
I turned to the nearest wall of mirrors. “Are you sure? It’s beautiful.”
“Yes, on both counts.” I watched him stalk silently up behind me. Watched in the mirror as his strong, golden brown hands slid around my waist and spread out across my hips, one over each hipbone. He pressed my body close to his with a gentle pressure from his splayed fingers. I gasped as his hard erection nestled between my buttocks. “As you can feel, I like it very much. But it won’t work.”
I nodded. “Unfortunately I think you’re right. But I do love it.”
The next dress was black satin, with very thin cream satin straps set very widely on an empire waist bodice. The skirt was split on one side and a frothy underskirt of cream-colored gauze spilled out from the split. Black and cream roses of satin created a small distraction where the split began, just below my right hip, and decorated the length of one long side to the ground. I could envision a yellow diamond tiara and a choker with a single, large yellow diamond teardrop dangling from the center, making me look every inch a Goddess from Mount Olympus.
However, as I left the dressing room I knew what Bion’s reaction would be.
The third dress was made of a pure white silk so fine and shimmery that I still felt naked when I slipped it over my head. It fell from my shoulders like air, molding itself to my body like a soft breath. I thought it would be too sheer but saw when it slipped into place that it was perfectly opaque.
The dress had long, snug sleeves that flared out over my hands, brushing my knuckles and draping softly away from my wrists. The neckline was straight and high, sliding from one shoulder to the other and exposing only a thin line of skin below my neck. Turning to look at the back, I saw that it plunged to a spot just above where my buttocks curved away from my back. Crossing the plunge, at shoulder height, a single strand of pearls drooped from one side to the other, providing just the right touch of class to an otherwise daring backline.
The bodice shimmered tightly across my breasts, displaying their larger than usual size flawlessly and completely without appearing gauche or slutty.
The fabric tucked neatly under my breasts to skim across my narrow waist and over my slim hips, then flowed smoothly down the length of my legs to pool gently around my feet. I thought it might be hard to walk in but testing it out, discovered that the fabric flowed away from my feet like magic as I walked, creating a shimmery swing around my legs that made me feel as if anything was possible.
I tucked my feet into a soft pair of satin slippers in a cream color that matched the pearl strand in the back and floated out of the dressing room toward Bion.
I didn’t need his knee-melting smile to tell me the dress was perfect. I knew on the most basic level that it was my dress. Made especially for me.
For just this special occasion.
Somehow.
Bion unfolded his long, lean body from the padded bench and strode toward me. He grabbed my hands and spun me around. When he saw the single, short string of creamy pearls his breath escaped him in a sigh.
“It is just as I envisioned it,” he murmured, so softly I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly.
I turned around, “What?”
He shook his dark head and gave my hands a gentle but firm tug. I suddenly found myself draped against him, his lips mere inches from mine. “Nothing. You are stunning.”
I smiled. “You think?”
He shook his head again and lowered his lips to mine. The kiss was gentle, tender beyond thought and…amazingly…possessive. As his lips gently consumed mine, his hands touched the fabric of the gown at my waist and where it stretched invitingly over my buttocks with a reverence that made me want to smile.
I started to get the feeling that the dress meant almost as much to Bion as it did to me.
Such a strange and intriguing man.
Bion’s kiss deepened and my body responded. I wrapped my arms around his neck and dragged him closer. Tilting my head, I felt my body slip more tightly against his and marveled at the way we fit, perfectly, as if we had been made for each other…fated…
I gave myself a mental shake to dispel all such thoughts. We weren’t fated, we couldn’t be. Cupids and humans didn’t mix. Ever.
Bion’s lips left mine and found my neck, spreading a trail of fire and ice down the extremely tender flesh there, moving toward the thin line of skin the dress exposed at my neckline.
I shivered in anticipation.
My thoughts fluttered and faded and then returned with a start. What we were doing would end all too quickly. Although it felt perfect and right it was not perfect and, for me, for him, it was wrong.
It was so… I inhaled on a sharp gasp. His tongue blazed a trail across my collarbones, just above the simple, elegant neckline of the dress. Heat, warm and supple, pooled between my legs and caused my nipples to stand at attention under the thin fabric.
Bion lifted his head and grinned at me. Then he bent down and before I knew it, I was wearing only the soft slippers. The dress was a soft drape of fabric over the padded bench.
He picked me up and carried me to the bench. I watched the two of us, duplicated a dozen times in a dozen different mirrors, approach that bench and thought I would come before he even touched me.
My face was soft with lust, my eyes sparking with it. And Bion’s excitement was clearly visible in the protruding geography of his tight jeans.
He settled me onto the bench and dropped to his
knees.
Like a shameless wanton I flung my legs wide as soon he touched my knees and he buried his face in my throbbing mons. His hot, wet mouth closed over me and I nearly screamed with ecstasy. His tongue swept out and pierced my soft folds, probing, tasting. I started to vibrate with pleasure.
The very talented tongue flicked at my clitoris and slid through the moist heat of my outer lips, down almost to my anus and then back again, until I thought I’d die from the exquisite pleasure of it. Then the tongue plunged deep and my back stiffened, my head dropped back onto the soft padding of the high-backed bench and my legs quivered. I rode his tongue on the razor edge of my climax, willing myself to go over, but it wasn’t to be. My body waited.
Bion suddenly withdrew his magnificent tongue and moved slightly north, toward the tiny peak where, at that moment, my entire existence was centered. His hot mouth closed over that tiny summit and my heart stilled. My body quieted into taut expectation and my lust teetered on that slim brink.
He gave a gentle suck.
And then another.
And then a third, slightly stronger pull on the shameless bud and the wave hung over me, building, growing, waiting to crash against me. I was nearly there. I could feel it starting to crest.
But then Bion altered his attack on my little peak and the wave faltered, waited, quivered on the edge. He began a slow and gentle torture in the form of small, feasting sucks, in a soft but insistent rhythm that had my toes curling beneath me.
The wave wobbled, rumbled and then finally broke, bringing me screaming into a full-on climax that made my entire body contract in delirious pleasure. I screamed his name into that empty room and clutched his soft, dark hair to hold that glorious mouth in place.
I no sooner found the bottom of the wave then Bion was pulling another one from me with those hot, talented lips and I was off again, my body thrashing helplessly on that soft bench.
He pulled another several orgasms from my exhausted body before he lifted that gorgeous face from between my drenched thighs and stood up.
I looked up at him with lust-glazed eyes and tried to rearrange my splayed legs and arms to regain some small portion of my dignity. He grinned at me as he quickly divested himself of the soft shirt and tight jeans he’d been wearing. Then, before I could even finish licking my lips in wondrous appreciation of his gods-given gifts, he was lifting me gently off that bench and spreading me out on the lush carpet beside the bench.
Bion lowered himself over me, capturing my lips with his own before his body even touched mine. And then the full, smooth heat of his body lowered onto me and I felt his erection bouncing impatiently against my knee. His kisses stole my breath as his body stole my will. He centered himself over me and plunged, deep and hard. I gasped, my eyes shooting open in pleasure and surprise.
He filled me entirely and perfectly as his hips picked up the rhythm of the wave, building with me to that superb crest. He devoured my lips, growling into them as the wave built inside him too, the combined weight of our passion threatening to crush us both with its intensity.
My world narrowed down to that moment, my breath was his breath, my heart beat in tune to his, my body belonged only to him. We were filled with superb heat as the pleasure between us built and throbbed. I reveled in the feel of him against me. I lifted my legs and wrapped them tightly around his waist, drawing him in as deeply as I could and holding him there. His hips swung in a near savage rhythm as we built that wave above us, the power of a thousand unspoken promises, strengthening it, emboldening it.
And then, just as my body found its way over the edge again, Bion cried out, a sound filled with exquisite pleasure, and threw himself under that wave with me, quivering and pulsing against its awesome power. He hung over me, our bodies still tightly joined, and shared my panting breaths for several long moments. He seemed reluctant to leave me.
Finally, his body started softening into a gentle aftermath and he slid to my side, pulling me against his body in a near desperate way. I felt him tremble and wondered at the cause. But then his lips were on mine again and all thoughts fled. Whatever his worries, whatever was coming, we had these stolen moments in time, unstructured, unplanned and unclaimed by chronological existence.
Ours alone.
To do with as we pleased. And so we stepped into the wave again.
*
The Fates knocked on my door at just a few minutes past seven that night. I was shocked enough that they came to the door instead of just popping into my living room. The looks on their faces nearly made me close the door again.
They wore beautiful, angry faces. I realized immediately they were a heartbeat away from succumbing to their fury state. I panicked and almost shut the door in their faces. Only the certainty that nothing would be left standing for blocks around me if I did kept me from doing just that.
They were all dressed in long pastel dresses with plunging necklines. They wore diamonds in their ears and around their slender, white necks. On their tiny feet dainty shoes sparkled prettily.
They looked as if they’d just come from a party. But their faces didn’t look festive at all.
“Your Graces?”
They heard the question in my voice and smiled. “Yes, Daphne. We are angered but not enough to call the Furies.” Lachesis’ perfect, heart-shaped face softened. “You know you’re one of our favorites but you are pushing us too far on this.” She tucked an errant strand of soft, auburn hair back up into her elegant chignon.
I swallowed and ushered them in. “I made a cake,” I offered hopefully.
Clotho’s pretty face bloomed. “Chocolate?”
I nodded.
She clapped small, white hands together, her long, blonde curls bobbing around a narrow face with huge eyes and pouty lips. “Chocolate cake, sisters.”
Atropos tossed her thick wave of black hair off one elegantly clad shoulder and rolled startling golden eyes. The hair was held back on one side with a diamond clasp and flowed to her shoulders in soft curls. “The world could be ending and the promise of sweets would completely wipe her mind of all but sweet indulgence,” Atropos declared, giving Clotho a look filled with disgust.
If only. I thought.
They followed me into the kitchen. As I gathered plates and forks and dished up fat slices of moist chocolate cake my mind raced. How could I explain to them that what I was doing with Bion would harm only me? What words could I use to make them understand that, though it would probably tear my heart irreparably, I needed to take this one chance at love and run with it…if only for a few days. Or even hours.
They wouldn’t understand. They weren’t susceptible to love as we knew it. They knew only fondness. And even that they doled out sparingly, because it was their unenviable job to judge the length and content of everyone’s existence. And—at some point—that also meant ending that existence.
A difficult job when the heart is involved.
Unfortunately, though we’d been fated never to know love ourselves, Cupids had been cursed with the ability to recognize and experience it. It was deemed necessary for us to feel what we were tasked with promoting in others.
I suddenly wondered whose job was worse, the Fates’, who never felt love, or we Cupids’, who experienced it but could never have it.
Sighing inwardly, I handed each of the three Graces a plate heavily laden with cake. I knew the gift would be enough to distract Clotho but I realized it wouldn’t work for her sisters.
I had a pretty good idea what would distract them though. “Wine?”
Atropos’ golden eyes lit up, “Sweet, pink wine?”
I nodded, relaxing slightly. If they were drinking wine they wouldn’t turn the Furies loose. They’d be much too relaxed.
I hoped.
I poured them each a glass and watched as Atropos and Lachesis sucked theirs down in a less than ladylike way. I refilled the glasses.
Clotho barely touched hers. She had chocolate frosting on both her cheeks. It looked
like she’d picked up the wedge of cake and stuffed it into her mouth sideways.
Still trying to distract them, I decided it was a good time to satisfy my natural curiosity. “So who’s the poor sod who had to deal with the Furies yesterday?”
Atropos frowned. “A young demi-god. He forgets himself and dabbles in human intrigue.”
Clotho nodded, her mouth full of cake. “He knows he’s not to use his powers to change the human sphere but he insists on doing it.”
“For his own selfish reasons,” Atropos added, nodding.
“What did you do to him?’
Clotho grinned at her sisters, showing brown teeth. It was such a strange thing in that pretty face.
“We sent him back to his father in a funnel of air.”
They chuckled and Clotho clapped her hands together in delight.
My eyes widened. “His father the god?”
Atropos nodded, licking the last of her wine from the glass.
I refilled it. “What will his father do to him?”
Clotho shrugged. “He’ll be made to stay on Mount Olympus for a human decade or so, to punish him for his folly.”
I nodded, suddenly glad that I hadn’t brought the Furies into my home. I didn’t know if I could take a decade on the Mount. The gods were so arrogant and autocratic. And I’d have little to do there to interest me.
Lachesis’ husky voice made me jump. “You requested an audience with us, Daphne. What is it you need?”
I blinked at her. I’d been so worried about their reaction to my trysts with Bion that I’d completely forgotten I’d called them.
“Oh. Well.” How did I go about explaining this without discussing the fact that I was spending way too much time with Bion? Not that they didn’t already know that. But I was reluctant to shine those very bright lights on it anyway.
Sighing, I took a sideways tack toward the subject. “Have you ladies by any chance seen fit to weave a few extra hours into my thread lately?”
Clotho, who had been in the midst of sucking her frosting-coated fingers, stopped sucking and threw Atropos a look. Atropos looked at Lachesis, who was the most serious of the three and generally served as their spokesperson in difficult matters. Lachesis looked at me.