FORGIVE & FORGET
A. Steele
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Forgive & Forget
A. Steele
This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or
existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the
author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © March 2008 by A. Steele
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Chapter One
Apollo’s gaze wandered the huge ballroom. Somehow, he’d managed to miss Cathryn at
the ferry landing. Instead of finding a lithe, brown-skinned ballerina, though, his eyes alit on
a tall, silver-winged man. The fellow was turned away from Apollo, talking to someone the
sun god couldn’t see, but there was no mistaking the metallic silver wings, rich olive skin, or
pale green, knee-length hair.
“Oh, no. No fucking
way!”
Dionysos wouldn’t do this to him. Would he?
The sun god shouldered carelessly through the throng of gods and mortals to reach his
enemy’s side.
Well…yes, apparently he would.
The winged man threw his head back in laughter. Zephyrus’s eyes, which Apollo knew
to be the deep green of a primeval forest, were crinkled shut in amusement. He looked
wonderful, as always, wearing a semi-translucent white shirt and emerald green slacks.
Zephyrus seemed to have fully embraced the modern mode of dress. Apollo couldn’t be
bothered. Naked was his preference, and when he absolutely had to -- like tonight -- Apollo
donned a barely-there white linen loincloth. His muscular body needed no further gilding.
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In one hand, Zephyrus held a fluted glass of champagne. His other hand rested on the
shoulder of…
Apollo’s heart stuttered. He came to a stunned halt just behind the green-haired wind
god -- out of his line of sight. The youth Zephyrus had been chatting up, however, could see
Apollo quite clearly. The boy frowned in confusion at the look of stunned horror Apollo
knew he wore.
Zephyrus turned to see what had captured his companion’s attention. “Ahhh, Apollo,”
he said, his voice as velvety smooth and harmonious as ever. “I’d like to introduce --”
Apollo ignored that perfectly pitched, infinitely sensual voice -- though it had always
been difficult to do so -- and concentrated all of his attention on Zephyrus’s friend.
“Hyacinth?” the sun god breathed. He reached out a large bronze hand to cup the boy’s
cheek.
The lad smiled and brought his own pale fingers up to cover Apollo’s. “
Non. J'ai peur
pas
,” he said. “
Mon nom et Lucas
.”
Apollo automatically translated, he knew most every language on Earth.
No. I’m afraid
not. My name is Lucas
. In French, the
s
was silent. “Luca” was what the sun god heard.
“Luca,” he repeated dumbly.
Of course it wasn’t Hyacinth. Hyacinth was dead and gone, many, many hundreds of
years ago. Now, after that initial moment of shock, Apollo could see the dissimilarities. This
boy was older -- twenty at least. And he was pale. Hyacinth had had a healthy golden tan to
rival Apollo’s own. Lucas’s hair was shorter, as well. Black waves tamed sedately away from
his high forehead. Hyacinth’s locks had been long and wild, shining ebony glory down past
his shoulders.
But by Zeus, the
similarities
…
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3
From what Apollo could discern through the boy’s snug breeches and tailored jacket --
both of softest grey velvet -- Hyacinth and Lucas shared an identical body type: compact and
lean like a runner, swimmer, or gymnast.
Hyacinth had been all of those…and more.
Lucas had also stolen Hyacinth’s dramatically arched brows and his wide blue-gray
eyes. Eyes as deep and secretive as the Aegean Sea. His mouth, too, was the same; he had a
fine upper lip, perfectly shaped so that the indent above it inexorably drew one’s eye to the
exquisite contrast of his lush lower lip.
Sweat dotted Apollo’s forehead, dampening the corn-silk curls at his temples, as he
remembered kissing that babyish pout, remembered suckling that gorgeous, swollen lip.
He forced himself to pull back from the memories.
This
wasn’t
Hyacinth. See there, the Frenchman’s jaw was narrower than Hyacinth’s.
His cheeks more angular. Oh, but that cleft in his chin, that exclamation point of male
beauty… it was exactly the same.
More erotic reminiscences tried to surface, and Apollo turned away from the
heartbreak this boy represented. He looked to Zephyrus, his tormentor, instead.
“This is above and beyond, even for you, Zephyrus.” Apollo was so angry that he knew
his eyes, a blue much truer than Hyacinth’s -- than Lucas’s -- swirled with cobalt flame. He
couldn’t seem to control the savage contortion of his mouth, either. A feral snarl had skinned
his lips back from his teeth.
There were few things as frightening to behold as Apollo, the god of heat, in a rage. A
fact attested to by Lucas’s gasp of fright. The doppelgänger took a hasty step backward,
almost landing on what Apollo was sure was his perfect little ass.
Zephyrus didn’t move an inch. Not even when Apollo fisted his hands in the front of
the wind god’s shirt and hauled him up to his own eye level. Zephyrus wasn’t short, by any
means, but the buff, seven-foot-tall sun god had a good eight inches on him.
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“By Zeus’s dictate, I’ve left you alone these thousands of years, Zephyrus,” Apollo said,
his voice harsh. “My restraint has limit, though. And you’ve just crossed it.”
“Pol…” Zephyrus’s hands came up to rest on Apollo’s where they were tangled in his
shirt. His wings fanned the air.
“Apollo!” the sun god corrected. “You lost the right to call me Pol when you killed the
boy you’ve so heartlessly resurrected here, tonight.”
“Apollo, then,” the winged god agreed mildly. “Do you remember Hyacinth’s younger
sister, Livana?”
“I… What of her?” Apollo gave Zephyrus a teeth-rattling shake. Nothing more.
Perhaps it was because it had been so long since he’d heard the eerie beauty of the wind
god’s voice, or maybe it was because he’d forgotten how Zephyrus’s large, fey eyes could trap
one’s gaze, making it difficult to think… Whatever the reason, Apollo was surprised to
realize he was willing to listen to whatever paltry excuse Zephyrus was about to offer. He
was still going to tear him limb from limb, of course. But first, he would listen to what
Zephyrus had to say.
“Guys,” came a distinctive bass voice from the vicinity of Apollo’s elbow. “You’re going
to have to take this outside.”
Apollo turned an accusing eye on their auburn-haired host. “How could you invite
him, Dionysos, knowing how I feel? How --”
“Apollo,” he interrupted, laying a strong hand along his friend’s bunched forearm.
“Zephyrus has
always
had a standing invitation to my parties. You know I don’t get involved
in these quarrels. That he hasn’t come until now was” -- his yellow eyes flicked to the wind
god and he smiled -- “in deference to
you
, I believe.”
Dionysos stepped away, smoothing the front of his brocaded vest before linking an arm
through Lucas’s. “Now, I’m going to entertain this gorgeous lad while you two take this
argument outside -- where it belongs.”
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5
The sun god cursed and dropped Zephyrus back on his feet. “I’m expecting someone,”
he said to Dionysos. “Can you tell her I’ll be with her soon? Her name is Cathryn. She’s --”
“She’s not coming,” Zephyrus interjected. “I --”
That’s it!
Apollo grabbed a handful of silky green hair and willed them both away to his
palace on Olympus. They coalesced in the huge, slated courtyard. Lots of room there among
the fanciful topiaries, and Apollo needed the room to kick Zephyrus’s ass all the way down to
Hades.
Before the wind god had a chance to react Apollo had planted his fist in the center of
Zephyrus’s handsome face, sending him reeling.
“Apollo!” Zephyrus held his hands up. “Hear me out.”
Apollo rounded on him again but Zephyrus flitted away. Damned fairy.
“Hear you out?” the sun god hollered. “Hear you out? You flaunt that…that imposter in
front of me! Why? To rip my heart out just one more fucking time?” He was bellowing, so
incensed he could scarcely breathe. “To show me what I could never have again?” Apollo
lunged, cat-quick, latching onto one of Zephyrus’s wings. In a single smooth motion, he
twirled, just like he’d done with the fateful discus that had ended Hyacinth’s life, and
slammed the wind god into the castle wall. He leaned against Zephyrus’s back, keeping him
pinned. “And then…
and then
…you send my woman away. I’ve been working on getting
Cathryn in bed for four goddamned months.” He rabbit-punched Zephyrus’s kidney. Three
hard jabs. “I don’t know what you were thinking, Zeph,” Apollo said, tossing the green-
haired god to the ground, “but
I
think you’ve made a pretty-fucking-fatal miscalculation.”
One gold-sandaled foot rose above Zephyrus’s vulnerable throat.
“He’s for you!” Zephyrus wheezed, using both hands to hold Apollo’s foot away. “I sent
her home because Lucas is for you.”
It took a second for that information to sink in. A second in which he bore down on
Zephyrus’s fingers until they mashed against his larynx. “Who is he?”
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“He’s Hyacinth’s great…great…” Zephyrus coughed. His lips took on a bluish hue.
“Pol, please.”
“Nephew,” Apollo finished for him. He twisted his foot to snap a few fingers before
stepping away. “Of course. Livana had many sons, as I recall.”
“She did.” Zephyrus started to sit up.
Apollo kept him down with a well-placed kick to the jaw. “How on Earth did you find
him?”
The wind god rolled onto his side, not bothering to try and rise again. “I’ve watched
the bloodline all these years. Hoping…”
“Hoping to find him once more.” Apollo threw himself down across from his former
friend, sitting cross-legged. “Well, congratulations. Lucas is an almost perfect replica.” He
cocked his head to study Zephyrus. “Why offer him to me? I’d have assumed that you’d want
this version all to yourself, since you killed the original because you
couldn’t
have him.”
Zephyrus sighed and pulled his broken fingers straight before leaning his head on his
fist and studying Apollo. You wouldn’t know he’d just been beaten senseless by the relaxed
pose he now held. The Olympian ability to instantly heal almost any wound made Apollo’s
outburst little more than an annoyance. Albeit, a painful one.
Relaxed pose or not, the tremor in Zephyrus’s voice betrayed his emotion. “I’ve told
you before, Apollo, I never
wanted
Hyacinth to die. For the millionth time, it was an
accident. I just meant to blow your disc off course. I was trying to let him win, for once,
since I knew you never would!” His forehead furrowed, pale brows drawing down over dark
eyes. “It was an accident,” he reiterated softly. “I wish --”
“You lie,” Apollo snapped. “You were jealous. Admit it! He chose me as his lover, and
you killed him for it!”
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7
“I
was
jealous.” Zephyrus rolled onto his back, staring up at the evening sky. “I’ll admit
to that. But not because he’d chosen you as his lover. After all, I had the honor of that
position as well. I was --”
“Liar!”
Apollo leaped on the wind god, straddling his hips and raising a massive fist
high in the air.
Ever placid, Zephyrus lay still beneath him. Apollo searched his slanted eyes for even a
hint of dishonesty. There was none.
“You didn’t know?” Zephyrus whispered.
“You’re a liar,” Apollo said again. Doubt tainted the words.
Zephyrus said nothing.
“Prove it.”
“Why?” The wind god sighed. “It will just cause more bitterness between us. I’m trying
to accomplish the opposite of that.”
Apollo lowered his fist but he didn’t get off of Zephyrus. Instead, he planted his hands
to either side of the wind god’s head and leaned in. “Prove it!”
Zephyrus’s lips thinned. “Hyacinth had a goblet-shaped mole just under his left
buttock.”
Apollo pursed his own lips. “Yes, he did,” he agreed. His voice was mild, pleasant even.
The calm before the storm. “But he trained nude every day. That knowledge is worth
nothing.”
Annoyance flashed in Zephyrus’s eyes. He grabbed Apollo’s wrists, holding on tight.
“When Hyacinth came,” he said, “he always slapped his palm over his mouth to stifle his
screams.”
Apollo gasped and tried to sit back, but Zephyrus held firm. Damn. He’d forgotten
Zephyrus was so much stronger than he looked. “He was capable of multiple orgasms,” the
wind god went on. “Or, perhaps it was just one really long orgasm. I was never sure. But that
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gorgeous cock of his would keep twitching long after he’d been drained of seed. I know
that.” His narrowed gaze bored into Apollo. “Sometimes, Hy would pass out from the
pleasure I gave him,” Zephyrus whispered. “His throat would be raw from screaming into his
own hand, the poor boy, and then he’d faint in my arms.”
“Stop.” Apollo shut his eyes against the memories. That only made them stronger.
“Stop,” he husked again.
Zephyrus didn’t. “I used to tell him to just scream already -- to just howl his pleasure to
the stars. But he wouldn’t. Once, when I had tied his hands behind his back, he chewed a
hole in his lip in an effort to stay silent.” Zephyrus’s voice dropped to little more than a
whisper. “Did
you
make him scream, Apollo?” he asked, leaning up to ask the question.
Yes…Gods, yes.
* * * * *
“Do you want to come, little prince?”
Hyacinth whimpered and twisted in the multiknotted ropes.
Thin black cord cut puffy diamonds into his tanned skin, making
gorgeous mosaic patterns. “Yes,” he gasped. “Gods, yes.” His face was
purple as he swayed, head down, inches above the forest floor.
Apollo raised the slender birch wand and flicked it across the
top of his lover’s thighs. Hyacinth’s cock quivered. Fat drops of
precome dripped onto the loam.
“Then you know what I want to hear, Hy.” Apollo traced the
throbbing vein on the underside of Hyacinth’s penis with the
pointed tip of the stick. Tiny blood beads followed in the branch’s
wake.
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9
“Pol, please. I can’t.” A smattering of strokes landed on
Hyacinth’s ass, cock, balls, and stomach. The Spartan Prince
thrashed, his long black hair sweeping the dirt.
Apollo made an airy gesture, and Hyacinth rose until his head
was level with Apollo’s own. “You can,” he disagreed, an amused
smile tugging at his lips. “You just don’t want to.”
Hyacinth’s pupils were wide and midnight dark. Salt water
streaked his temples. “My father --” he started to protest yet again.
“Is probably leagues away,” Apollo interrupted. They were on
King Amyclas’s land and Hyacinth’s father was out on a three-day
hunt. The king could be anywhere, really. “But even if he’s not” --
Apollo took two great handfuls of Hyacinth’s silken ebony locks and
buried his face in them, inhaling deeply of his lover’s spicy,
adrenaline-imbued scent -- “I don’t care.”
“Pol…”
Apollo raised his head to catch Hyacinth’s lips. The young
prince groaned and sucked hard on Apollo’s delving tongue.
“You’re mine,” Apollo broke away to say, his voice turned
harsh. “And if the entire world hears you hollering that fact…”
Hyacinth abruptly dropped, causing him to let out a frightened
yelp. His cock ended up right in front of Apollo’s face. “So much the
better!” the sun god growled, before taking the prince’s sturdy red
staff into his mouth. Hyacinth’s blood tasted similar to his come:
salty and metallic and sweet.
Hyacinth tried to engulf the sun god’s rod in reciprocation, but
Apollo swiveled his hips away, denying the prince a too convenient
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muffler. The crisscross ropes began disappearing, one by one, from
Hyacinth’s body. As they did, Apollo’s nimble fingers attacked the
indentations left behind, pinching and scratching.
Hyacinth’s groans became louder, interspersed with stifled
shrieks. When Apollo buried his nose in Hyacinth’s pubic curls and
began to swallow, milking the hot, thick flesh that flexed down his
throat, the boy could no longer contain himself.
“Apollo!”
Tangy sweet semen washed Apollo’s tonsils.
One shout, not near loud enough. Then the brat had the nerve
to take a chunk of Apollo’s skin between his teeth to stop up his
cries.
Apollo snapped the last rope, stepped back, and let the prince
fall headfirst to the ground.
Hyacinth hardly seemed to notice, still delirious in the throes of
his climax. A climax, Apollo knew, that could go on an unbelievably
long time if nursed properly. Gods, he loved that about Hyacinth.
Such a unique ability. So much fun.
“You
will
scream for me, love,” he purred, dropping to his knees
in front of the powerless boy. With one hand, he took hold of
Hyacinth’s quaking cock, the other hand he spit into. A quick
anointing of his own cock and then Apollo plunged into Hyacinth’s
oven-warm body. Apollo’s fingers took up the same milking rhythm
his throat had set. He angled Hyacinth’s body so that the prince was
half turned, one leg hooked over Apollo’s shoulder, the other
wrapped snug around his waist. Apollo began short, sharp thrusts,
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11
butting directly against Hyacinth’s prostate and driving him insane
with hurtful pleasure. More milky come drizzled out of Hyacinth’s
cock.
Now that they were no longer tied down, the young prince tried
to bring his hands up to cover his mouth. His wrists were
immediately caught and held above his head by strong invisible
forces.
Apollo leaned forward, jackknifing Hyacinth’s body. He slipped
a hand between them to twist the prince’s nipples as hard as he
could without tearing them off.
“Pol!”
Hyacinth screeched, eyes squeezed shut in pain. That
time was better, but still not good enough. The spurts of briny fluid
were drying up now, but Hyacinth’s penis continued to dance
merrily.
“One more time, little prince,” Apollo urged. “Scream just one
more time for me.” So saying, the sun god sent a potent blast of
magic through his young lover’s groin. It was so intense that
Hyacinth’s eyes rolled back in his head. His muscles contorted
violently, unseating the muscular sun god.
Hyacinth’s screams were long and strident now, scaring the
birds from the trees for leagues around.
“There’s my boy,” Apollo said with a satisfied chuckle. He
grabbed Hyacinth’s hips and drove back inside his lover’s sweaty,
spasming body before succumbing to his own, much less noisy
orgasm. “There’s my good boy.”
* * * * *
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“You did, didn’t you?” Zephyrus asked, wonder in his tone. “For you, he screamed out
loud. Gods, I’d love to have seen that.”
Zephyrus’s breath was intimately moist against Apollo’s lips. The sun god could feel a
hard length growing under his ass. “Fuck you,” Apollo spat, shoving down on Zephyrus’s
shoulders to make his skull rap against the ground. He threw himself sideways -- away from
Zephyrus, away from the painful memories.
“Can’t say I didn’t warn you.” Zephyrus sat up beside Apollo and rubbed the back of his
head.
“You take things too far, Zeph.”
Zephyrus looked away, but not before Apollo saw hurt flare in his eyes. “Sometimes I
do,” he acknowledged. “You seem to bring that trait out in me.”
The silence stretched.
Apollo sighed and ran a hand through his tousled blond curls. “Why didn’t he tell me?”
“I guess he thought you knew.” Zephyrus gave a soft snort. “
I
figured you had to know.
Why else…” He picked at a rough piece of slate on the ground, running a nail against its
edge. After a second, he shrugged, seeming to change his mind about what he’d been about
to say. “You had so many lovers, Pol. You always do. Maybe he just wanted to even things
out.”
Apollo thought about that. As he did, he summoned a beer into his hand. He glanced
sideways at Zephyrus and then called one into his hand, too. What the fuck? If they were
going to talk rather than fight, he may as well be sociable.
“Canadian,” the wind god said. He twisted off the metal cap. “Good stuff.”
Apollo nodded and took a long pull. “Sooo, you figure he was trying to make me
jealous?” he finally asked.
Zephyrus stalled by taking a slug himself. “Truth?” he hedged, wiping foam from his
upper lip.
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13
Apollo drained his beer and tossed the bottle against the castle wall. It made a nice
crash. “Sure.” He extended his long legs out in front of him. “Truth. Why not?”
“I think…” Zephyrus said, mimicking Apollo’s pose. Their ankles touched.
Apollo thought about pulling away and decided it didn’t matter.
“I think he needed someone a little calmer to fall back on, Pol. You overwhelmed him.”
He slanted Apollo an imperturbable look. “You overwhelm everyone.”
“You’ve never seemed too overwhelmed by me, Zeph.”
Zephyrus held Apollo’s gaze for a long second. “You’re the most sexual being I’ve ever
met, Apollo. Trust me, it can be overwhelming.”
Apollo opened his mouth to say…what, he wasn’t exactly sure…but Zephyrus started
speaking again before he could say anything.
“Hyacinth needed some downtime from your intensity, is all, some gentleness every
once in a while.”
A lump found its way into Apollo’s throat. He swallowed it, but his voice was still
husky when he said, “I
was
gentle with Hyacinth. I loved him.”
“He loved you, too. You know he did. But loving you is always a battle, Pol. You play
the warrior too well.”
Was Zephyrus quoting Hyacinth? It sure sounded like something Hy would say. Gods,
he wished he could go back and ask. Apollo rubbed his chin. “Okay, Zeph. I’m listening.
What happened that day with the discus?”
“It was an accident. You must believe me.”
“I do.” And, oddly enough, he really did. Three thousand years was a long time to bring
something into perspective. But then, Apollo was the first to admit he could be slow that
way. Zephyrus was the gentlest god he knew and apparently he’d loved Hyacinth as well.
“You say you were trying to let him win?” Apollo asked, encouraging Zephyrus to finish the
explanation the wind god had tried to start so many times before.
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“Yeah.” Zephyrus let out a gusty sigh. “Long story short? He thought that if he could
prove himself your equal you’d give up your other lovers for him.”
The sun god frowned. “And was he planning on giving
you
up if that happened?”
“He was.”
Another strained silence. “And you were okay with that?” Apollo finally asked.
“It was what he wanted.” One slim shoulder lifted. “I always give my lovers what they
want.” Zephyrus drained his beer and lobbed it at the castle. The bottle didn’t break. His
throw had been halfhearted, at best. “Look, I don’t know what happened, Pol. I just gave the
discus a light push. It was
so
light. I know it was. I didn’t use enough power…”
To crush in his skull.
Apollo bit the corner of his lip as he pondered. If Zephyrus hadn’t provided that power,
then someone else must have. He remembered the force of the disc meeting Hyacinth’s head.
Remembered the sound of it slicing through his temple. That had been no natural event.
Who, then, was really the culprit? The answer was: someone who was going to seriously
regret their intervention when Apollo found them. And he would find them. Make no
mistake. Gods, when he thought of the time he’d wasted. Three thousand years of hating the
wrong person…
But he wasn’t going to think about it anymore tonight. No, tonight he had a beautiful
boy to entertain, and then he had an old friend to reacquaint himself with. “Okay.” Apollo
stood up and held out his hand to Zephyrus. “Let’s go back to the party. We’ll talk about this
more tomorrow.”
Zephyrus flashed a set of sexy dimples as he accepted the help up. His unique spring-
rain-on-grass scent wrapped around Apollo when he angled in close to say, “You’ll like
Lucas, Pol. He’s perfect for you.”
They rematerialized on the mansion’s porch. “Yeah? How so?”
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15
Zephyrus opened the ornate door and indicated that Apollo should precede him. As the
sun god brushed past, Zephyrus said, “His dearest wish is for a night of pure ecstasy. I told
him I knew someone who could provide him with that.”
Apollo’s eyebrows shot into his hairline. “Then lead the way, Zeph,” he said with a
grin. “’Cause I could use a night like that, myself.”
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Chapter Two
Dionysos studied their faces as they drew abreast of him. “Well?”
Apollo swept the god of decadence into his arms and planted a smacking kiss on his
wide mouth. “All’s,” he said.
“Where did --” Zephyrus started to ask.
“Over there.” Dionysos tossed his chin to indicate the couch behind them. “You’d
better hurry.”
Zephyrus followed his line of sight. “Oh, crap,” he said, heading off at once.
Apollo watched Hermes nuzzle Lucas’s neck, presumably whispering sweet
everythings in the boy’s ear. He wasn’t concerned.
“You starting something with me, Pol?” Dionysos asked with a charming, lopsided
smile. He rocked his hips into the cradle of Apollo’s. They were of a height, so cock rubbing
against cock was the end result.
Apollo smiled back and slid his hands down to Dionysos’s suede-covered ass, tugging
him closer still. “Not today, I’m afraid. But how ’bout I pop by next week?”
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17
Dionysos pursed his lips. “I don’t think so.” Apollo sucked in a shocked breath when
his balls were grabbed. “I don’t fuck cock-teases.” The god of decadence gave Apollo a slow,
hard squeeze before turning away.
“You so do.” Apollo called to his friend’s broad-shouldered back. He grinned at the
lascivious wink Dionysos treated him to over one of those nice, wide shoulders.
“Oh, yeah! In that case, come by Friday,” Dionysos yelled, as he disappeared into the
crowd.
* * * * *
“He’s taken!”
“Didn’t seem to be. Back off, Zephyrus!”
“Listen, you little --”
Apollo strode over and tapped the messenger god on the shoulder.
“Hades, now what?” Hermes growled. He turned and looked up, way up.
Hermes was one of the shortest Olympians, Apollo one of the tallest; there was a two-
foot difference in their heights. Combine Hermes’ short stature with a fresh, innocent face
and a habitual outfit of jeans and concert shirts, and the god’s messenger looked all of
fourteen years old. Looks could be -- and in his case were very -- deceiving. “What can I do
you for, Pol?” Hermes asked, flicking his sable mane away from his face. It fell right back
again, completely obscuring one toffee brown eye.
“You can walk away.”
Hermes looked confused for a tenth of a second. Then he got it. He scowled. “Yours?”
The corner of Apollo’s mouth twitched. “Mine.”
“Well, shit.” Hermes turned his scowl on Lucas, who was sitting on the couch looking
confused. “He didn’t tell me that. He said he came with Zeph and then Zeph took off. Fair
game, right?”
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Apollo nodded agreeably enough. He knew that if he was anyone else, he’d have a
nasty fight on his hands right about now. Hermes looked pretty pissed off, and a huge
erection stretched out the front of his jeans -- a truly remarkable bulge that extended down
past the middle of his thigh.
Not for the first time, Apollo found himself seriously eyeing Hermes’ groin. He gave his
head a shake. No. Hermes was someone he fought, not fucked. Hell, he couldn’t stand the
bastard, and the feeling was mutual, Apollo knew. Tonight, though, Apollo was glad he
wouldn’t have to ruin his evening by getting into it with the little godling. Hermes was a
much better warrior than one would assume from his cherubic appearance. Nowhere near
Apollo’s ability, but he fought so dirty that he usually managed to get in a few painful blows
despite that.
“Still, he
is
with me, Hermes,” Apollo said. “And our deal holds. Doesn’t it.” It wasn’t a
question. Hermes had once stolen fifty head of cattle from Apollo. It had ended up okay.
Apollo had even gotten his beloved lyre out of the deal, but an agreement had been
reached -- with Zeus’s help -- that Hermes would never again steal what the sun god had
already claimed.
Hermes indulged in one more scowl. “Yeah, it holds.
Knew
I shoulda put a time limit
on the damned thing.” He glanced back down at Lucas. “When you’re done with golden boy,
here, you just holler. I’ll find you.”
Lucas opened his mouth to reply. His mouth stayed open as Apollo, with an
exasperated sigh, picked Hermes up by the scruff of his neck and tossed him across the room.
“Gods,” he said. “I’m gonna have to kick his ass on principle now, the puny shit.”
Zephyrus laughed. “He’s probably looking forward to it.”
“Yeah, probably.” Apollo chuckled, too, and shook his head. “He’s such a pain slut.”
It was Zephyrus’s turn to glance down at the beautiful, velvet-clad Lucas. You could
almost hear the unspoken segue,
And speaking of pain sluts
…
Forgive & Forget
19
Apollo studied the youth’s familiar face with renewed interest. Did he share Hyacinth’s
penchant for pain?
“Lucas,” Zephyrus said. “Apollo has agreed to grant your wish.”
Lucas’s mouth still gaped from watching the sun god throw Hermes away as if he’d
weighed nothing more than a can of pop. “I…you…you told him my wish?” He fiddled with
a tasseled pillow, avoiding eye contact.
“Yes.” Zephyrus sounded puzzled. “Would you have rather told him yourself?”
Lucas seemed to shrink back into the sofa. “No, I guess not,” he said.
Apollo’s cock twitched at the soft, hesitant voice, the hunched submissive posture.
Oops. Time to get out of here before he treated the entire party to a show.
Zephyrus was looking more puzzled than ever. Apollo rolled his eyes. Zephyrus could
be so dense. “He’s afraid,” he mouthed.
“Oh,” the wind god mouthed back. He stood there looking unsure for a second and
then sank down onto the cushion beside Lucas. “He’ll give you what you want, Lucas,” he
said, using a knuckle to lift the boy’s face toward him. “I promise it’ll be everything you’ve
dreamed of. Apollo…” His eyes darted to Apollo and then darted away again. “He’s very
talented at…”
Zephyrus’s cheeks were brick red, and the blush was creeping down into the open neck
of his shirt.
Sexy
. When his tongue flicked out to wet his lips, Apollo’s cock lurched
completely upright.
Talented, huh?
Apollo thought.
He’d only had Zephyrus once, and they’d both been really, really…really drunk.
Apollo only had vague flashes of memory from that night and had assumed Zephyrus
remembered just as little. It would appear, however, that the wind god remembered enough
to consider him “very talented.”
20
A. Steele
“At fucking,” Apollo purred, finishing the sentence Zephyrus seemed incapable of
getting out. He leaned down to place a hand on both of their shoulders, willing the pair
directly into his bedchamber.
As they arrived, candles flared to life in the many golden wall sconces spaced around
the walls, bathing the marble in butter yellow light. Their feet sank inches deep into his
custom-made white and ivory rugs. Apollo’s bed, raised on a foot-high marble pedestal,
sumptuous with gold lamé pillows and white satin sheets, glowed like a holy alter in front of
them. As it should. Fucking was Apollo’s true religion.
“Merde!”
Lucas cried. He clutched Zephyrus.
Zephyrus looked vaguely panicked when he realized where Apollo had sent them.
“Okay, then. I’m going to go,” he said, trying to disengage from the boy.
“No,” Lucas cried. “Stay. Please.”
“He won’t hurt you, Lucas.”
“Beg to differ,” Apollo said.
Lucas twisted his body into Zephyrus’s.
“Not helping, asshole!”
Apollo grinned at the show of spirit. He’d forgotten how much he used to love ruffling
Zephyrus’s feathers. Apollo pressed himself against Lucas’s back. His cock nestled between
the boy’s ass cheeks, and Apollo couldn’t resist a little bump and grind against the taut,
velvet-clad globes. “Anyway, darlin’,” he leaned down to whisper. His tongue traced Lucas’s
ear as he spoke. “You’ll have a safe word.”
Zephyrus’s gulp was only heard because Apollo’s face was mere inches from his mouth.
Apollo raised his eyes. Had he made Zephyrus use a safe word, too? He must have -- he
almost always did. Funny that he couldn’t remember, though. That long-ago night with the
wind god was a strange, empty blur in Apollo’s mind. He must have been
really
loaded.
Forgive & Forget
21
“Goldenrod,” Apollo said to Lucas. He’d been using the same word for forever.
Zephyrus’s expression was strained. “Your word is goldenrod, Lucas. All right?” Apollo’s
voice soothed while his hands stroked gentle up and down the boy’s sides.
Lucas’s trembling began to abate. “Goldenrod,” he repeated. “All right.” His head came
back to rest against Apollo’s chest. His arms still loosely wrapped Zephyrus’s waist. When
Zephyrus again tried to unwind them, they tightened. “I want Zephyrus to stay, though,”
Lucas said, looking shyly up at the sun god. “Please?”
“No.”
“Sure.”
“No,” Zephyrus said again. “This isn’t about me.” He was more forceful this time in
pushing Lucas away. So forceful that his shove moved not only Lucas back, but the god
behind him, as well. “I’m going now.”
Apollo reached out to snare Zephyrus’s hair before the wind god could dissipate. Such
long hair really was a terrible vulnerability. He began tugging Zephyrus toward his body.
“No, it’s about Lucas,” he said. He smiled down at the boy and used his free hand to cup
Lucas’s jaw, angling his head back even more so that Apollo could press a kiss to those
perfect lips. “And if Lucas wants you here, then here you’ll stay,” he finished. “It’s his wish
we’re granting, after all.”
His gentle but relentless tugging had brought Zephyrus right beside them.
“Pol,” Zephyrus said. He sounded calm but looked scared. “We --”
Apollo cut him off by darting his head forward to capture Zephyrus’s mouth. Zephyrus
held himself rigidly still as Apollo teased the crease of his lips. He wouldn’t open up. Then
the wind god gasped. Apollo took immediate advantage, though it wasn’t him who had
startled Zephyrus. From the corner of his eye, he saw Lucas’s dark head bent toward
Zephyrus’s sensitive neck.
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A. Steele
Zephyrus moaned, a breathy, needy sound. Apollo didn’t know if it was because the
wind god liked the feel of Apollo’s tongue in his mouth -- strong suction seemed to indicate
that he did -- or if it was because Lucas had found a particularly delicious spot to nibble on.
Either or, the sound was enough to tear a moan out of Apollo’s own throat. His tongue
became more aggressive.
When Lucas edged out from between them, Zephyrus tore his mouth away. His dark,
haunted eyes bore into Apollo.
“Don’t stop,” Lucas breathed. “You’re both so beautiful.”
Apollo broke Zephyrus’s hypnotic gaze with difficulty; it was so easy to lose himself in
those fathomless green pools. He looked at Lucas instead. “Let’s get you naked, pretty one,
and then we’ll work on Zeph. You’re both overdressed for the occasion.”
Lucas’s smile was impish. He didn’t seem nervous anymore, now that he had perceived
backup. Apollo smiled back. He’d put the light of unease back in those stormy eyes soon
enough. His pulse picked up at the thought and Apollo slid a hand down to Zephyrus’s ass,
hauling the wind god hard against his body. “Stay, Zeph,” he encouraged. “The boy wants
you to.” Apollo was watching Lucas’s striptease, not willing to admit, even to himself, that he
was afraid to meet Zephyrus’s eyes again.
Zephyrus’s fingers trailed up Apollo’s back to thread themselves in his hair. He brought
his lips over Apollo’s ear and asked, “But do
you
want me to, Pol?”
The sun god’s eyelids fluttered when Zephyrus took his earlobe between his teeth. His
hips rolled the tiniest amount, sending his cock sliding across Zephyrus’s silk-covered
stomach. “Yeah, I do.”
Zephyrus’s tongue swirled into Apollo’s ear. Lucas had shed the jacket and was
shrugging out of his lilac shirt. The boy’s pale, chiseled chest glowed in the subdued
candlelight.
Forgive & Forget
23
“And do you plan to ignore me for the
next
three thousand years if I do?” Zephyrus’s
teeth tested the lobe again.
Apollo shuddered. “I didn’t…” Zephyrus twisted his torso, stroking Apollo’s shaft with
his lean body. Apollo moaned, losing his train of thought.
“You did.” He moved down to gnaw on Apollo’s throat.
Apollo angled his chin, granting the wind god easier access. “I was going to say, I didn’t
ignore you because of
that
. I ignored you because I thought you’d killed Hy.”
A sharp tug on Apollo’s hair brought his face level with Zephyrus’s. He wore a gentle,
remonstrating smile. “You stopped speaking to me two years before Hyacinth died, Apollo.”
Did I?
An image, murky as bog water, swam up in Apollo’s consciousness. Zephyrus
above him, his face twisted in guilty pleasure. A ragged voice -- his own? -- pleading,
sobbing. Had that really happened?
“Sooo,” a sultry voice purred from somewhere to their right.
They turned their heads in tandem, ending up cheek to cheek. Standing there in just a
tight pair of black briefs, the boy was a gorgeous sight to behold. Apollo and Zephyrus let out
identical sighs of appreciation.
Lucas grinned at their approval and cocked one hip. His fine-boned hands wandered up
his pale, perfect body to tweak two of the loveliest pink nipples Apollo had ever seen.
“So,” Lucas repeated. “Here I am almost naked and I’m
still
being ignored.” His
exquisite bow mouth plumped up even more when he pouted. “You’re not even kissing for
me.
Je suis triste
.” I am sad.
“Can’t have that.” Apollo held out an arm to the youth and smiled down at Zephyrus.
“We’ll talk later, Zeph. Give me a kiss, then, so that our poor boy doesn’t have to be sad
anymore.”
When Apollo leaned in, Zephyrus pulled his head back a fraction. “We
will
talk later.”
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A. Steele
Apollo stifled a sigh. “Zeph, I give you my word, we’ll talk. But can we focus on the
‘ecstasy’ part of the evening for now?”
Lucas ducked under Apollo’s arm and began to undo the buttons on Zephyrus’s shirt.
“
Oui
,” he said. “Let’s.”
Forgive & Forget
25
Chapter Three
Apollo finished rummaging through the mahogany trunk and turned back around,
hands full of steel, silk, and leather. The picture Zephyrus and Lucas made, twined so prettily
around each other on his massive, satin-cream bed was enough to give the god pause.
Zephyrus was half lying on the boy, his hair a sea-foam waterfall that cascaded over
the mattress’s side to puddle on the floor. He was nibbling Lucas’s right nipple and pinching
his left. Lucas writhed underneath him, his fingers clutched in the metallic feathers of
Zephyrus’s wings.
“Please,” the boy moaned, “harder.” The tip of his long, cranberry cock poked past the
waistband of his underwear.
With a smoky laugh, Zephyrus complied, wringing a cry of pleasure from Lucas.
Zephyrus’s hips churned. The muscles of his naked buttocks flexed as he ground his body
against the moaning boy.
Apollo licked his lips and admired the contrast of pale white and dark olive for a
second more before turning back to the box and grabbing up two pairs of small steel clamps.
He shed his loincloth as he walked back toward the bed. “All right, fellas,” he said, crawling
onto the mattress on Lucas’s other side. “Time to get down to it.”
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Zephyrus lifted his mouth. Lucas’s nipple was hard and rosy. “I thought we were
already doing that.”
“Nah,” Apollo disagreed. He gave Lucas’s saliva-slick nipple a tweak, stretching out the
pebbled skin, and tweezed a clamp open. The boy yelped as the serrated edges snapped
closed. Apollo bit the other nipple, making it as stony-hard as its brother before trapping it in
the other clamp. A fine silver chain attached the two pincers. It shivered with Lucas’s
heartbeat.
“Now we’ve started.” Apollo stroked a single finger down Zephyrus’s torso, teasing the
wind god’s small brown nipples until they stood as rigid as Lucas’s. Then he picked up the
other set of clamps and raised a brow.
The smile that flitted across Zephyrus’s face was almost cruel. Apollo wouldn’t have
believed the gentle wind god had that expression in his repertoire if he hadn’t just seen it. “I
can’t help but notice that this one has a gold chain,” Zephyrus said. “Surely more suited to
your complexion than mine.” He plucked the toy from Apollo’s hand and, in a movement
faster than thought, pinched them onto Apollo’s own large coral nipples.
Apollo hissed in surprised pain.
“Yes, see? Very attractive.” Zephyrus leaned in to lick the strangled peaks, causing a
hot surge of blood to shoot straight into the already firm flesh between Apollo’s legs. “You’ll
leave them on for me, won’t you, Pol?”
Lucas mewled, and Apollo looked down to see Zephyrus’s fist buried in the boy’s
underwear, wrapped tight around his slender pink cock. He swallowed…hard. “Okay,” he
whispered. “I’ll leave ’em on for now. But I’m going to expect a return favor.”
“Of course,” Zephyrus said. He surged up and buried his tongue between Apollo’s lips.
Apollo resisted the bizarre urge to melt into a quivering puddle as Zephyrus plumbed
the depths of his mouth. Had Zephyrus always been this gifted with his tongue? Gods, why
couldn’t he remember?
Forgive & Forget
27
Zephyrus broke the kiss and sat back on his heels. “Are these for our boy?” His voice
sounded matter-of-fact.
Apollo had to clear his throat before he answered. The toys clutched in his hands
served to steady him, though @ voice still came out rougher than he might have liked.
“Yeah,” he rasped. “Help me lift him up.”
Zephyrus gave Lucas’s cock one more squeeze before gently pushing the boy into a
sitting position. Lucas was unresisting. To Apollo’s trained eye, he looked to be in “the zone”
already. That magical place where endorphins rule your world, and everything seems
blissful. Apollo couldn’t help but grin. The kid had hardly been touched. “You wanna do the
honors, Zeph?” he asked, holding up the handcuffs. He asked as a joke, sure Zephyrus would
refuse. He’d been hoping for another blush, is all.
To Apollo’s infinite surprise, the wind god held out a hand for them. “Front?” Zephyrus
asked, clicking open the manacles with assured competence. “You’re going to want his ass
clear for the whip, right?”
“Right,” Apollo agreed after a stunned second. For such a supposedly “gentle” lover, the
wind god seemed remarkably at ease with the darker side of sex. To mask his astonishment,
and the heat he knew had flared in his eyes at the deeply erotic way Zephyrus had purred
the word “whip,” Apollo looked away, to the ceiling. A small gesture had a length of golden
chain, previously hidden by the bed’s heavy silken canopy, drifting down in languid coils.
When Zephyrus had cuffed the boy’s wrists, he plucked the blindfold from Apollo’s lax
fingers. As he secured the dark cloth, he licked Lucas’s cheek, a feline stroke from chin to
temple. “You’re going to come so hard, baby,” he whispered. His hands left the back of
Lucas’s head to wrap around his slim, white throat. “So fucking hard.”
Apollo could tell he was applying pressure to Lucas’s carotid artery by the way
Zephyrus’s fingertips paled. Lucas groaned and leaned into the wind god’s body, searching
blindly with his lips.
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A. Steele
Zephyrus glanced up long enough to toss Apollo an arrogant smirk, and then he
swooped in to rape Lucas’s mouth. And really, rape was the only apt word for the stunning
violence of his kiss. Zephyrus’s fingers bit even deeper. Lucas cried out and opened his
mouth wider. Apollo’s cock leaked precome onto the sheets. By Zeus, he would never have
imagined…
“
Whip him now, Pol
.”
The words were whispered directly into Apollo’s mind, shocking him. How? The sun
god shook himself, like a great golden dog. Chalk it up to just one more thing Apollo hadn’t
realized Zephyrus was capable of. But never mind the bizarre, extraordinarily arousing
metamorphosis his friend seemed to be undergoing. He had a wish to grant, damn it. Focus
was the key.
“Move,” he ordered, grabbing the chain with one hand and shoving, none too gently,
on Zephyrus’s shoulder with the other.
Zephyrus’s pupils flashed neon green. A trick of light? He seemed amused at Apollo’s
brusqueness. Ever helpful, he raised Lucas’s hands above his head for Apollo to lock them in
place. Apollo decided to ignore the cocky smirk Zephyrus was still wearing.
Instead of messing around with trying to pull Lucas’s underwear down, Apollo tore the
flimsy garment in half.
Lucas gasped and thrust his hips back. Zephyrus growled, actually growled, deep in his
throat and ducked his head again to take his teeth to one of Lucas’s tortured pink nipples.
Apollo couldn’t resist a little taste of flesh, either. Not when such a beautiful white ass was
trembling and flexing right in front of him.
“
Mon Dieu, mon Dieu
,” Lucas cried when Apollo started gnawing. My God, My God.
“Tonight I am,” Apollo murmured. He snuck a hand around Lucas’s waist and was
charmed to find the boy’s balls drawn up high and tight under his marble-hard cock. That
would never do, but it
was
gratifying to know Lucas was already so close.
Forgive & Forget
29
The sun god’s palm crept higher, skimming up the boy’s willowy shaft to circle the
surprisingly large plum at its crown. He gave it a squeeze. Lucas bucked and Apollo felt a
naughty, telltale palpitation under his fingers. He closed his eyes to concentrate, visualizing a
sparkling blue membrane stretched across -- through, actually -- Lucas’s penis, just below his
glans.
“Mon Dieu, Mon Dieu,” changed to the rather more monosyllabic, “Ah, ah, ah,” when
Lucas’s climactic release hit the blockade and was turned back. Phantom sparks cascaded.
Sparks that whiplashed through the boy’s body, igniting pain and pleasure wherever they
alit.
Apollo backed off the mattress. The chain’s thick links clanked when he motioned to
them once more. Lucas was forced to knee walk backward rather than be dragged by the
metal tug. He ended up hunched over the bed’s edge, tiptoes barely on the ground, bum
pushed out and up by the mattress, cock trapped painfully against same, and arms stretched
high. Good. Nice.
Now
Apollo would whip him.
Zephyrus reclined against the headboard when Lucas was so impolitely pulled away.
His dark eyes widened and then narrowed as he beheld the nifty trick Apollo performed on
the boy’s cock. “Interesting,” he mumbled to no one in particular.
Apollo continued to ignore him. All of his attention was for Lucas. “Have you ever
been whipped, pretty one?” He gave Lucas’s ass a smack as he whispered in his ear.
“Oui.”
“What’s your maximum number of strokes with a piece like this?” Apollo looped the
leather thong around Lucas’s neck, allowing him to feel the buttery kangaroo hide of his
favorite stockwhip. It was very thin -- a fact which
had
to frighten the boy. In the wrong
person’s hands… Apollo pulled back on the handle with one hand, keeping the thong against
Lucas’s throat with the other. It hissed as it moved.
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A. Steele
Lucas breathing grew ragged. He jolted in surprise when the tail left his flesh, earlier
than he must have expected. The whip was only five feet long.
“Bullwhip?” the boy asked, jaw clenched. “Seven footer?”
Apollo grinned. Good guess -- wrong, but good. This kid knew his stuff. “Close
enough,” he purred. “How many can you take, Lucas?”
“
Q-q-quinze
.” Fifteen. When he spoke again, it was obvious his jaw had been clenched
to stop his teeth from chattering.
“Hmmm.” Apollo pressed a kiss to the boy’s trembling shoulder and stepped back,
granting his arm full extension. “And what’s your safe word?”
“Goldenrod.”
“Good boy.” Apollo cracked the whip. Lucas jerked at the mini sonic boom. “We’re
going to do twenty, Lucas. Count ’em out. And don’t fuck up.”
Forgive & Forget
31
Chapter Four
“Treizzzze!”
Lucas’s back was sheened with sweat, making each pop of the whip louder than the
previous. Red welts crisscrossed his fair skin -- thirteen so far. His body convulsed even
when the leather weapon was nowhere near him.
“No more. Please, no more.”
“Apollo,” Zephyrus said from his spot at the head of the bed. He’d been lying there
enjoying the show, but by the eighth lash a crease had appeared between his fair brows. It
deepened with every whistling stroke. “Perhaps fifteen will do, after all.”
Apollo frowned right back. The leather fell again. “What number?” he snarled, when
Lucas remained silent. If sobs could be called silence.
“
Quatorze! Quatorze!
Please, Master!”
Master…
Now we’re getting somewhere
, he thought. Apollo raised the whip one more
time and was astonished to find his arm held there -- on the back stroke -- by a tightly
targeted gale.
“
He can’t take much more, Pol
.”
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The sun god glared at Zephyrus. “Get out of my head, Zeph. And let go of my arm. The
boy has a safe word.”
The pressure against his arm slackened, but when he went to bring it forward, the
airstream snapped into existence once more. Gone was the ruthless arrogance Apollo had
been so confused by, in its place Zephyrus wore an expression of refined concern. The
question was, why did that make Apollo feel bereft? “Oh, for fuck’s sake!” he spat, tossing
down the whip. “You want me to prove he’s still game?” Apollo strode back to the bed to
grasp Lucas’s hips. He twirled the boy around and, with no preamble, ripped the nipple clips
off his body. Past time they came off. Lucas didn’t have an immortal’s ability to withstand
pain, after all. Apollo’s own nipples ached something fierce, but he could last a long while
yet.
Lucas screamed as the steel sprang free, arching his back and twisting toward where
the sun god stood beside him. Apollo held Lucas still by taking a swollen, reddened ass cheek
in each hand. He massaged the hard welts found there while, at the same time leaning over
to oh-so-gently trace his tongue over the boy’s abused nipples.
More ghostly fireworks shimmered through Lucas’s body. His cock bounced like a live
wire against Apollo’s stomach.
“Should I stop, pretty one?”
“Non!”
Apollo switched sides, glancing up as he did so. Lucas’s tears had made the blindfold
soggy. So soggy that the fabric could no longer contain them. Silver runnels had found their
way into the creases of anguish around his mouth. After a minute more of tender suckling,
Apollo straightened back up to claim those gorgeous, wet lips.
Lucas’s kiss was wild, desperate…
“Are you sure?” Apollo asked, smiling at the display. “Zephyrus seems to think --”
“Non!” Lucas cried again. “Only please, Master, may I come at twenty?”
Forgive & Forget
33
Apollo took that pretty, pillowy lower lip between his teeth. “Mmmm,” he hummed
noncommittally.
He turned the boy back around. Lucas whimpered in anticipation when Apollo trailed
the leather over his back. “Satisfied, Zeph?” Apollo asked, his voice smug.
“Mmmm,” Zephyrus responded. Just the one sound, and he’d managed to sound even
more smug than Apollo.
Apollo slanted him a look, but the wind god’s expression was tranquil. “What number
are we at, Lucas?”
“Quinze,” Lucas breathed.
On the seventeenth stroke, Zephyrus left his comfy post at the headboard and crawled
toward Lucas’s writhing body. Apollo couldn’t see what the wind god was up to, but given
how Lucas started to thrust and cry, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.
“Dix-sept!”
Eighteen had more force.
“Dix-huit!”
When Apollo raised his hand again, he felt an astonishing thing. Zephyrus was
interfering with his magic, prying at the edges of the barrier Apollo had erected. How dare
he? “Zephyrus!”
“Finish, Apollo,” the wind god said, his words muffled.
Then, even more unbelievably, Apollo’s arm swooped down, borne on a sultry spring
breeze. The lightest of taps was delivered.
“
Dix-neuf
,” Lucas moaned. His head fell back. His hips churned. “Oui. Ah, oui!”
“God’s damn you, Zeph!” Apollo roared when he felt his barrier collapse. The recoil of
pent-up ecstasy lashed through Lucas’s psyche, catapulting him into orgasm.
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A. Steele
The wind god seemed too busy to answer. On the upside, he seemed too busy to keep
up the wind control, as well.
Apollo’s last strike drew blood. Lucas shrieked, the sound a lunatic combination of hurt
and delight.
“VINGT!”
His knees gave out, making the tendons in his arms and shoulders
bulge as they took the full brunt of his weight.
Zephyrus’s dark hands looked even darker against the pale skin of Lucas’s upper thighs.
Apollo tossed the whip away and stalked over to the bed, intent on ripping a piece -- a
very large piece -- out of Zephyrus’s hide. When he came beside the pair, though, and got a
good gander at Zephyrus’s technique, Apollo’s anger began to drain away -- replaced by an
emotion equally base.
Good gods
, he thought, awestruck,
what a mou h he has
.
t
Lucas was almost unconscious from the devastating release he’d just experienced, but
Zephyrus was still milking the poor kid. So gifted was the wind god with his tongue, lips, and
teeth that he’d managed to string out Lucas’s orgasm long past the boy’s endurance for
pleasure.
Lucas passed out with his cock buried deep in Zephyrus’s throat.
Forgive & Forget
35
Chapter Five
“I promised him a
night
of ecstasy,” Apollo complained. He was undoing the cuffs and
chain while Zephyrus supported Lucas’s dead weight. “Not an hour.”
“We’ll wake him in a bit.” Zephyrus caught the boy as he fell and turned to deposit him
on the far edge of the mattress. When he untied the blindfold, Zephyrus smiled. “Look at
this,” he said, motioning Apollo over.
Apollo had to laugh. Lucas was wearing the most self-satisfied little grin. His face
looked as relaxed and unlined as a newborn’s. When he turned back to Zephyrus, Apollo’s
laughter died. Zephyrus had some explaining to do. Balancing his weight on one knee,
Apollo kicked out, swiping Zephyrus’s legs out from under him. He leaped on the downed
god, rolled him onto his back, and trapped his wrists high above his head. “What was that
shit you were pulling, Zeph?”
Zephyrus didn’t struggle. Instead, he raised his torso to brush his pecs against Apollo’s.
Apollo whimpered, an undignified sound, when his nipples were scraped. He’d
forgotten about the darn clamps. As he lifted his chest away, his hips automatically came
down.
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Zephyrus took advantage of that, too. “What shit?” he asked, with an innocence way at
odds with the way his cock was grinding against Apollo’s.
“You know.” Apollo struggled not to groan. “Why would you fuck with my magic?
And…and… Would you stop that?”
Zephyrus had wrapped his thighs around Apollo’s hips and was getting a nice long
stroke in. He chuckled.
With an aggravated oath, Apollo let go of Zephyrus’s wrists to grab his hips and hold
them still. “And since when can you get into my thoughts?”
Zephyrus’s hands hovered over Apollo’s nipples, the threat clear. “I want to take these
off,” he said.
Apollo tried to roll away, but Zephyrus followed and now, somehow, Apollo was in the
weaker position. How in Hades had he let
that
happen?
Zephyrus sat up, using Apollo’s groin as his cushion. He toyed with the golden chain
strung between the two clamps, sending painful jolts of sensation through Apollo’s torso.
“I’ve been able to get into your head for three thousand years, Pol.”
The left clamp pulled free.
Apollo barked in agony. His hands flew up to stop Zephyrus from doing the same to his
right. He wasn’t fast enough.
“As to ‘fucking with your magic’…” Zephyrus ran an idle thumb over the nipple he’d
just freed, making Apollo thrash. “I didn’t think you were going to let him come.” He shifted
back and lowered his mouth. “So I intervened.”
“Not your…place…to…” Apollo found himself holding Zephyrus’s head against his
chest, pushing himself into that wonderful, talented mouth.
Zephyrus stopped long enough to say, “Too bad.”
There. That gave Apollo the second of respite he needed. He grabbed a fistful of green
hair and pulled.
Forgive & Forget
37
Zephyrus laughed as his head was wrenched back. Neon green in his eyes again --
impossible to pass off as a light trick this time.
“What do you mean you’ve been able to get into my head for three thousand years?”
“Enough, Pol. I know tonight’s just going to be a one-off. Don’t worry. So, please, let’s
just not do this.” Zephyrus was starting to sound annoyed but seemed to be trying to keep his
expression light. He began to wriggle against Apollo’s crotch, a diversionary tactic Apollo
chose to ignore.
“Why would you be able to…” Waaaaiiit a minute. He wouldn’t have, couldn’t have,
not after
one
drunken night. Nope. No. No, no, no. But on the very off chance that it
had
happened, then he should be able to…
Apollo tentatively pushed a thought at Zephyrus.
“So you’re saying we’re soul-
pledged?”
The humor he’d managed to retain finally fled Zephyrus’s eyes. He bared his teeth.
“You
know
we are, Pol. Gods!” He leaped off Apollo and the bed in one angry lunge. “I get
that you regret it!” A bitter laugh as he grabbed up his pants. “But -- fuck! --
you’re
the one
who asked
me
to stay.”
Under other circumstances, Apollo would have found it comical to watch Zephyrus
jump around on one leg, wings slapping the air, while trying to get his pants on. The pain on
his old friend’s face made the moment seem anything but funny, though.
“Why the fuck did you do that if --” Zephyrus wrenched the pants over his hips and
then just stood there, head bowed, breathing hard. His hair was a pale, impenetrable curtain
over his face. “No. You know what?” He held up a trembling hand, still studying the ground.
“Never mind. I don’t even want to know what game you’re playing now. Really, I guess I’m
the asshole here, ’cause I’m the one who keeps letting you do this to me.”
As he stooped to pick up his shirt, Zephyrus began to fade. Apollo’s own vault from the
bed was even more acrobatic than the wind god’s had been. It had to be.
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He managed to snag a handful of feathers. “Zeph!”
“Let go.”
Zephyrus was trapped. Half here, half wherever he was running to.
“No.”
Zephyrus held himself rigid for a long second, trying to stare the sun god down, and
though it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, Apollo met his stare -- and held it. “I
don’t remember, Zeph,” he said softly.
“Bullshit!” Zephyrus frowned as he read the truth on Apollo’s face. His eyes flicked
back and forth between Apollo’s own. “What do you… How can you not…”
“I don’t know.” Apollo kept one hand firm in Zephyrus’s wing. The other came up to
stroke his ethereal face. “Come back and talk to me.”
A nod. Zephyrus solidified once more. “What
do
you remember?”
Apollo slipped his hand down Zephyrus’s arm to twine their fingers together. No one
was leaving till this got sorted out. He pulled Zephyrus to the bed and sat down beside him.
“Not much,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was so drunk.”
“Like fuck you were.”
Now Apollo frowned. “I was. So were you. We were both wasted and it just sorta
happened. Gods, I didn’t remember at all until years later. And all I get are flashes. I figured
you must have forgotten, too.”
Zephyrus was shaking his head. “What are you
talking about?”
He wrenched his hand
away. “You’re telling me you don’t remember any of it. That you were drunk for three
damned weeks and that somehow I didn’t notice? Give me a fucking br --”
“Three weeks? What are
you
talking about?” He was so confused. Zephyrus seemed
absolutely sincere, but Apollo
knew
he only remembered -- kinda -- one single night with
the wind god. “One night,” he repeated aloud. “I only have memory of one night with you.”
Forgive & Forget
39
Zephyrus mouth opened and closed, opened and closed. “That’s impossible,” he
eventually managed to say. “We were together every second for three weeks, and then one
afternoon…”
Anguish in his voice, in his eyes. Apollo’s chest cinched tight to see it, but he had to
know. “One afternoon?”
“You disappeared. I didn’t see you for almost a year.” A tear broke free from Zephyrus’s
thick lashes. “And then there you were, back as if nothing had happened. But when I tried to
get near you, to talk to you…” Zephyrus pressed his palm over his eyes. “It was like you
barely knew I existed. You ignored me unless I was physically blocking your way, and even
then all you had to say was, ‘Excuse me, Zephyrus.’ I was…”
This time when his voice trailed away Apollo didn’t encourage Zephyrus to continue.
The next word was obvious anyway. Devastated. To be soul-pledged one day and alone the
next. Gods. Apollo cleared his throat. “If that’s true, then someone must have messed --”
“Oh, you bet someone must have!” Grief to rage in one second flat. “Who?” Zephyrus
leaped up to pace. “The same someone responsible for Hy, I’d bet.” His hair whipped out
behind him as he turned. His pants, imperfectly done up, slipped lower on his ridges of his
slender hips. “I can think of one goddess’s shit list I hit around that time. How ’bout you,
Pol?”
Apollo caught himself thinking that Zephyrus would make a beautiful sculpture, such
sinewy grace, such lean power. “Hmm?”
Zephyrus skidded to a stop in front of him. “This is important. Could you try and pay
attention?”
“I
am
paying attention.” Apollo reached for the wind god, but Zephyrus danced out of
his reach.
“To the problem?” Zephyrus clarified. A dimple appeared in his cheek.
“Put your shirt on, then.”
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“
You’re
naked.” Two dimples.
Apollo leaned back on his elbows, displaying everything he had. His cock had fallen
half asleep in light of all the unhappy conversation, but when Zephyrus’s gaze locked on it, it
stretched and preened. “Olympians I’ve pissed off?” Apollo asked, pleased that Zephyrus
seemed to be as enamored of Apollo’s body as the sun god was of his. “Who haven’t I? I guess
Hermes was only fifty years or so before then. But we got over it.” He thought a tad more,
admiring the ripples of Zephyrus’s stomach. “No. I can’t think of anyone with the power to
do this. But then, you’re so pretty I can’t concentrate.”
“Pretty?” Zephyrus rolled his eyes toward the slumbering Lucas. “
He’s
pretty. I’m --”
“Ruggedly handsome?” Apollo snorted. “You’re as beautiful as Psyche, and just as
rugged
.”
Zephyrus moved back to the bed, nudging Apollo’s thighs open with his knees. “I’m
rugged
enough to top you.” His voice had dropped at least three octaves.
Apollo found himself mesmerized by the glow of neon in Zephyrus forest green eyes.
“Yeah…”
Yeah, right
, is what he’d meant to say. But those glimmers of memory: Zephyrus
above him, inside him, and the dominance the wind god had shown with Lucas, made
Apollo hesitate. “Really?” he asked instead, fascinated by the idea. Apollo was always the
boss, always called the shots. Had Zephyrus
really
managed to top him? Didn’t seem likely.
“I can’t believe you don’t remember.” Zephyrus stretched himself over Apollo’s body.
His hands slid down the sun god’s thighs to his knees, which he lifted and spread.
Apollo grinned. “I don’t. You’re gonna have to prove it.” He tightened his legs around
Zephyrus’s hips, strong enough to hurt. “And I have no intention of making it easy for you.”
Zephyrus grinned back, completely ignoring what had to be crushing pain. “You never
do.” He brought his mouth down to Apollo’s. Apollo raised his head to meet him halfway,
but just before their lips touched, Zephyrus murmured, “Funny you should mention Psyche,
though.”
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41
“Gah!” Apollo let his head fall back. “Knew you were all talk.”
A harsh pinch to his still painful left nipple made the sun god wince.
“You’ll get yours, Pol. But seriously, this is important.”
Sigh. “Okay. What about Psyche? She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Anyway, she’s immortal, not
a god.”
“Yeah…” Zephyrus shifted onto his side. Apollo immediately rolled onto
his
side to
regain full body contact. “And Aphrodite was pretty pissed off when Zeus granted her that
immortality.”
“Your point?” Gods, how could he have soul-pledged himself to someone who talked so
much? Apollo wriggled his hand between their stomachs to tease the crown of Zephyrus’s
cock.
Zephyrus couldn’t seem to help but hump into Apollo’s fist. His voice was steady when
he continued, however. The prick. “My point is, Aphrodite couldn’t touch Eros or Psyche
because of Zeus’s decree. Zeus didn’t say anything about me.”
That stilled Apollo’s hand. He leaned up on one elbow. “Aphrodite? But I thought you
guys were pretty close after your Cyprus expedition.”
“We were.” He ran his thumb across his lower lip. Apollo had always found that
gesture sexy, even when they’d just been good friends. No time for sexy, though, ’cause
Zephyrus was
still
talking. “She said something to me after the council, when Zeus decided
that Eros should marry the girl. I didn’t think anything of it at the time. You know her
temper. But when you disappeared, I began to wonder.”
“What did she say?”
“She said, ‘I can interfere, too, Zephyrus.’”
Apollo waited for more. There had to be more. There wasn’t. “That’s it?” he asked, just
to be sure. “Doesn’t sound too threatening, Zeph.”
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“I know. Not very damning evidence.” Zephyrus sat up and shoved his hair away from
his face. “But think about it: who else has the ability to interfere with a soul-pledge, the
epitome of love’s commitment?”
The sun god had no answer. Another thought occurred to him, though. “What about
Hyacinth, then? I suppose I can see your point about her messing
us
up, but Hyacinth only
messed
me
up. Aphrodite and I have never had a problem. Gods, after that Troy fiasco she
told me that if I ever needed a favor she’d move mountains to get it done.”
Zephyrus frowned. “Don’t forget that I loved him, too, Pol. Maybe that was enough.
Plus, it drove the wedge even deeper between you and me. I mean, come on, here it is three
thousand years later and we’re just
now
getting around to talking about this.”
The sun god sat up, too, and scrubbed his hands down his face. “Well, I didn’t know we
had anything but Hyacinth
to
discuss. And frankly, Zeph, I’m talked out. We have a suspect.
I don’t think she had anything to do with Hy, but it should be easy enough to find out. We
also have an unconscious boy we’re supposed to be pleasuring” -- he jerked his chin toward
Lucas, who had begun to snore -- “and
you
have a totally bogus claim to prove.” Apollo
checked his internal clock. “That’s a lot to accomplish in less than four hours, don’t you
think?”
“Never one for the deep discussions were you, baby?” Zephyrus said with an indulgent
grin. He wrapped a friendly arm around Apollo’s waist.
Being called “baby” was a new experience. Apollo kind of liked it -- liked the
ownership implied. Not that he’d ever admit that fact. “Nope, never was…kitten.” Zephyrus
had the greatest laugh in the world. The sound curled Apollo’s toes.
“Kitten?” the wind got out between chuckles. “Kitten?”
Apollo was laughing, too. “I was trying to think of something sillier than baby.” He
leaned in and rubbed Zephyrus’s nose with his own. “How ’bout lollipop? Does that grab ya?”
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43
The wind god’s hands came up to trap Apollo’s face. His thumbs stroked tiny circles on
his temples. “You like when I call you baby,” he said, his voice suddenly husky.
Yeah, okay -- maybe he did. Apollo still wasn’t going to admit it out loud.
“
No need
.”
Damn. Forgot about that.
“But I tell you what…baby…I’ll be your lollipop anytime you want.” The words
themselves were beyond foolish, but Zephyrus had put all the power of his amazing voice
into them. Sex oozed from every syllable.
“Zeph,” Apollo moaned, angling his head.
Oh, hot. Hot, hot, hot. No one should be able to kiss this well. Screw the talking thing,
if Zephyrus fucked half as well as he kissed, Apollo could absolutely see why he’d offered up
a part of his soul to him.
Zephyrus began inching away, chuckling when Apollo growled and leaned in even
farther to try and maintain contact. “Four hours, Pol. Don’t you think we should wake
Sleeping Beauty?”
“Fuck him.” Apollo grabbed Zephyrus’s head and plunged his tongue back into that
magnificent mouth. When Zephyrus bit the tip, he swore and jumped away. “Shit, Zeph,
why’d you do that?” he asked, swiping at his chin. The sight of his own blood made Apollo’s
heart race. Not many people could claim that they’d made Apollo bleed. He licked off the red
smear, savoring the pain.
“Because we have a promise to fulfill. You do, anyway.” Zephyrus shimmied out of his
pants before crawling up the mattress toward Lucas’s sprawled body. “So yes, fuck him, Pol.”
He stroked a hand down the boy’s welted back. Lucas moaned and stirred. “You’ll get your
proof soon enough.”
Apollo huffed and came up on Lucas’s other side. He didn’t want to fuck the beautiful
boy anymore; he wanted to fuck the beautiful god lying beside him.
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Lucas opened storm-filled eyes. His gaze was pure adoration when he focused in on
Apollo’s face.
Ah well, sometimes a god’s just gotta do what a god’s gotta do.
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45
Chapter Six
“You ready for round two, pretty one?” Apollo asked, mimicking Zephyrus’s strokes up
and down Lucas’s spine.
The boy squirmed. There was no doubt he was sore. “I’m so ready,” he breathed.
Lucas whimpered when he turned into Apollo and his abraded back came into contact
with the soft sheets. The sound made Apollo smile. The sun god teased him for a second,
darting his head forward like a bird, and then darting back again when Lucas tried to kiss
him. “Why don’t you show me
just
how ready you are?” His breath washed Lucas’s lips, but
once again he pulled back when Lucas tried to close the distance. His hand, which had been
gentle on the back of Lucas’s neck, became hard, pushing the boy’s head into his lap.
That’s the ticket
, Apollo thought, a smirk on his lips. Lucas’s head bobbed, trying
valiantly to take all of the sun god in, and Apollo was feeling
fine
. King shit. Top of his game.
Top -- period.
Well, he was until he glanced over at Zephyrus.
Zephyrus was watching Lucas work, head resting on one fist, chin tucked down. When
he felt Apollo’s gaze, he raised his eyes -- only his eyes. Brilliant green light sparkled through
thick black lashes. His smirk beat Apollo’s by a long, long mile. Apollo fell off his pedestal.
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He may be
king
shit, but Zephyrus was claiming the title of
god
shit! The bad-boy
transformation Zephyrus kept undergoing was doing seriously subversive things to Apollo’s
libido.
Zephyrus slinked his way into a sitting position, every movement choreographed to be
the epitome of eroticism. He was aware of the effect he had. The gleam in his eyes said as
much. The bastard was driving Apollo crazy on purpose. And in the “not helping” category…
Gods, Lucas gave good head! Between the two of them, Apollo wasn’t sure if he could
perform up to the standards he prided himself on.
“
You’re pretty good at that, you self, as I recall
,” the wind god said without moving his
lips. His woodland velvet voice was even more sensual when it whispered through Apollo’s
mind like that.
r
Before the sun god could think of a response -- he was too busy desperately trying to
remember when he’d had Zephyrus in his mouth -- Zephyrus had turned himself around and
swung a lean thigh over Apollo’s head.
“Make a new memory, Pol,” Zephyrus said as he joined Lucas in worshipping Apollo’s
cock.
By Zeus, by
all
the gods…
Zephyrus’s shaft trembled like a flag, fluttering in the soft breeze from Apollo’s lips.
One might say it was average. Average length. Average girth. But one would be so very
wrong. The color brought to mind a sunset over Australia’s Uluru, one of Apollo’s favorite
places on Earth. Violet-tinged blush graced the crown, melding seamlessly into terra-cotta
that darkened down to ruddy sienna at its base. And it was as beautifully lean and graceful as
the rest of Zephyrus’s body. So smooth and aerodynamic looking that it seemed more a work
of art than…
“For fuck’s sake, Apollo! Quit admiring the damned thing and…ahh, mmmmmm.”
“
I’ll admire what I like
.”
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47
“
If you keep admiring me that hard, you’re liable to get a surprise
.”
Apollo grinned as well as he could with Zephyrus’s gorgeous prick stretching his lips.
He was just so damned happy. Zephyrus had slipped back into his old bait-and-tease habits,
just as if they’d never stopped talking to each other. Apollo might not be able to remember
“loving” Zephyrus, but he’d always loved him. Three thousand years was much too long to
have gone without his best friend. Being able to fuck him --
or
get
fucked by him
, his
subconscious whispered -- was just icing on the cake.
“
Now you’re thinking too much
.”
“
Bitch, bitch, bitch. You
--” Zephyrus’s cock slipped from his mouth. “Wh…uggh.”
Lucas was still slavering away, taking eight inches down his throat like it was nothing.
Zephyrus, on the other hand, had moved down, licking a trail to… “Oh, gods!” Apollo’s head
thrashed and his spine arched, lifting both Zephyrus and Lucas off the mattress. Not only was
Zephyrus’s tongue insanely talented, it was also
long!
“Stop!” Apollo cried. “I’m gonna…” Too late.
“Now how did this go,” he heard Zephyrus mumble. And then…
“Oh, you prick. You son of a bitch!” Apollo tossed the sniggering wind god off. Only
Zephyrus’s wings stopped him from hitting the floor. The sun god sat up and, a bit less
forcefully, pushed Lucas away, as well.
A shimmer of green bisected his penis, right below the glans. To think he’d just been
thinking how much he liked the jerk. “Take it off.”
Lucas looked down, trying to figure out why Apollo was scowling at his own lap. “Take
what off?”
Stupid mortal couldn’t see anything.
“Now come on, baby.” Zephyrus’s arms came around Apollo’s stiff shoulders. He’d slid
in right behind the sun god. His words purred in Apollo’s ear. “You can’t shoot yet; you
promised Lucas a great shagging.”
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Apollo took a deep breath, collected himself, and focused on the barrier.
Unfortunately, Zephyrus had always been the studious one, the one who meditated, the one
who practiced his enchantments over and over and over. Three thousand years ago, his
magic had been stronger than Apollo’s. Now, he was in a league all his own. Apollo didn’t
stand a snowball’s chance of breaking this, he realized.
First came anger.
“Fine. You’re right. But the moment’s passed, so take it off now.” Silently he added,
“And I’m not your fucking baby!”
“
Yes, you
” -- Zephyrus’s hand dropped, snake-quick, to cup Apollo’s testicles. He gave
them a vicious squeeze -- “
fucking are
. And I’ll decide when it comes off,” he finished aloud.
“In fact, I like it so much…” Green light seeped between his fingers, bathing Apollo’s cock in
fairy lightning. Lightning that spread.
Then came…concern.
Green crept up his groin, stomach, and chest. Seeped down his thighs. Soon, the only
part of Apollo not glowing was his cockhead. That had been left conspicuously bare. “Zeph?”
he said. “What are you doing?”
Zephyrus chuckled against his neck, and Apollo almost leaped out of his skin.
Electricity raced from the point of contact straight to his groin. He stifled a scream with his
fist.
Lastly, there was fear.
“Fuck Lucas, Pol.” Zephyrus let go of Apollo’s balls and tickled his fingers over his
inner thighs.
Apollo shook like a tree in a hurricane. He’d always wondered how his lovers felt.
What absolute loss of power
really
felt like. Now he knew, and it scared him shitless. He’d
never been this turned on in his life.
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49
“Make him scream, baby.” The lightest skim of palm on cock had tears filling Apollo’s
eyes. When Zephyrus reached his nipples, gently flicking them with his thumbs, those tears
spilled free. “And then I’ll make
you
scream.”
Apollo’s head fell back against Zephyrus’s shoulder. He knew his gaze must be as
adoring as Lucas’s had been. No help for it. “You’d better,” he said, hooking a hand around
the wind god’s neck and pulling him in for a tongue wrestling match -- winner take all. His
body continued to twitch and quake. His cock was an iron pillar between his shuddering
thighs.
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Chapter Seven
“
Incroyable
,” Lucas whispered, the word barely audible. “You two are amazing. I could
come just from watching you.”
Apollo’s head snapped forward. Ah, yes. His pretty whipping boy. Someone to take all
this lovely frustration out on. “Don’t you dare, kid.” He pushed away from Zephyrus, coming
up on his knees, and reached out to snarl a hand in Lucas’s hair, yanking him forward.
When Lucas’s supple little body crashed into his own, knee to knee, pecs to sternum,
Apollo experienced the equivalent of a full body orgasm. He almost crushed Lucas’s ribs in
his paroxysms. Of course, Lucas just groaned and clutched him back, but still. “At least turn
it down, Zeph!” So much easier to be pissed off when he wasn’t looking at the wind god.
“
You’re procrastinating
.”
“
No. I can’t function
.”
A “tsk” sound. Zephyrus licked Apollo’s spine, from the top vertebrae in his neck to the
dimples just above his ass. It
was
less intense. An A-bomb rather than a megaton warhead.
That was probably all he could ask for.
Apollo twisted Lucas in his arms and shoved down on his back until the boy’s fine, fine
ass rose up in the air. He bent over and sank his teeth into one puffy red cheek. His hands he
Forgive & Forget
51
held out -- up -- palms cupped as if in supplication. The creamy climactic secretion of a
hundred maidens filled the shallow basins. All men, even pretty gay men, responded to the
pheromones found in this most precious of fluids.
When the scent hit Lucas’s nose, he began to pant, fucking the air in his excitement.
“Clever,” Zephyrus said, a smile in his tone. He scooped up a big dollop before Apollo
drew his hands down. The sun god didn’t allow himself to wonder why.
With his left hand, Apollo spread the silky fluid along Lucas’s cock. With his right, he
anointed his tiny asshole.
“Master, please. I can’t stand it.”
Apollo placed his index finger against the pink star. He didn’t have to do anything else
because Lucas threw his hips backward, taking that finger in right to the knuckle. “More,” he
groaned.
See? Maiden’s come -- so much easier than foreplay.
Two fingers.
Three.
“Please, please, please,” begged the boy. His shoulders were pressed hard into the
mattress, head turned to one side, eyes squinted shut, cheeks flushed. The sheets were
crumpled in his white-knuckled fists, and he was fucking himself on Apollo’s hand, impaling
himself much more violently than Apollo would have. With every desperate thrust, his cock
slipped through the loose ring of Apollo’s fingers. “Oh, God. Please!” he cried. “I don’t want
to come without you inside me.”
Apollo had been enjoying the show, so close and personal, but Lucas’s words propelled
him upright.
His fingers circled Lucas’s scrotum and the base of his shaft, clamping down. Then
Apollo lined himself up nice and straight. Lucas mewled, straining toward Apollo’s cock.
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“Shhh,” Apollo whispered. A single swirl around the sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Shhh.”
“Please!”
The thrust was excruciatingly slow…for both of them.
“Mon Dieu.”
“Oh, gods.” Apollo held himself still, enjoying the clutch and flutter. His cock was a
sparkler buried in the boy’s tight body. Flash lightning spread from the point of contact. It
was the most intense thing he’d ever felt.
Then came the sensations Apollo had been not so unconsciously waiting for:
Zephyrus’s lips on his neck, his long, clever fingers tripping down Apollo’s spine. They
hovered just above the crack of his ass, teasing, playing. “Do it,” Apollo groaned. “Hurry up
and do it.”
“Shut up.”
A slap on his right ass cheek. Not very hard, really, but combined with Zephyrus’s
magic it was searing. Searing pain or searing pleasure, Apollo couldn’t have said.
“Move, damn you,” Lucas hissed, trying to push Apollo back and get some action going.
A worthless effort as Apollo was immovable to a mortal. But the boy had a point.
Zephyrus’s fingers were once again on Apollo’s body, dipping into his cleft, smearing
lubricant on the small hole that was quickly becoming the focus of Apollo’s whole world.
When he began to wriggle a single finger inside, Apollo swore.
“Fuck, no. No prep,” he growled. “No time.”
“Your call, baby.”
There was the insane urge to melt into a puddle again. By Zeus did he ever love being
called that. A gentle hand on the nape of his neck urged him to bend over Lucas’s back. And
he did. Damn it, he did. Wantonly. Willingly.
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53
Apollo had no memory of ever submitting, of ever bending over for
anyone
. But he
knew in that moment that he’d been wanting to forever. Somehow -- when the sun god had
allowed himself the deep, dark fantasy of this moment -- Apollo had imagined tight leather
and sharp steel. Hurt mixed up with bliss. But no, Zephyrus had broken him much easier
than that. He’d broken him with affection and humor. With his extraordinary beauty and his
wonderful arrogance. He’d broken him with…
An erotic burn. Pain after all. But so, so sweet. Apollo laid his forehead against Lucas’s
shoulder and reveled in the stretch as Zephyrus inched his way inside.
Zephyrus’s cheek found its way down to Apollo’s back. Kisses feathered his skin. “I
love you, Pol.”
Ah, yes. With that.
That’s
what had brought Apollo, one of the most powerful gods in
the Pantheon, down… “I’m pretty sure I love you, too.”
He felt Zephyrus smile against his back. “
’Bout time you remembered that fact
.”
Who knows what Apollo would have said next? When Zephyrus began to move, the
words forming on his lips turned into a moan.
They found the rhythm so quick it was as if they’d done this hundreds of times before.
Maybe they had. Apollo plunged hard into Lucas when Zephyrus retreated. Zephyrus
speared Apollo’s body when the sun god pulled back.
Perfect is such an inadequate word.
Zephyrus was biting, kissing, licking.
Apollo straightened up and turned his head, seeking Zephyrus’s mouth. At the exact
same moment, Lucas began to come.
Shit
. He’d been so damned distracted he’d forgotten
about holding the boy’s orgasm at bay.
Now, he knew, he should be delving into Lucas’s pleasure response. Cranking it up to
max, making this the penultimate orgasm for the kid. It was what he’d promised, after all.
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Zephyrus’s tongue in his mouth, though, the ecstasy ricocheting through his body… Apollo’s
powers of concentration had deserted him.
“
Don’t worry. I’ve got it
.”
Lucas’s whimpers turned into screams. Apollo’s cock slipped its moor in the wake
of…whatever it was Zephyrus had done.
Lucas thrashed and humped the mattress, crying out to his god.
Apollo looked on in wonder.
Zephyrus had fallen quiet while working on Lucas but, as the boy’s shrieks turned back
into whimpers and the bouncing of his hips slowed, the wind god moved once more.
He pulled out.
“Zeph, no!” Apollo gasped. The emptiness was agony. “You can’t stop.” He was flipped
onto his back beside Lucas, who seemed to be in the process of falling asleep again.
“Now, would I do that?” Zephyrus asked, dimples in full play as he lifted Apollo’s legs
up over his shoulders.
“I would hope not.” The grin was contagious.
Zephyrus glanced down to align himself, and Apollo felt a tingle encompass his groin.
“There, all clean. Mortals can be so messy,” Zephyrus complained, as his cock found its
home inside Apollo’s body. He grabbed Apollo’s arms when the sun god attempted to wrap
them around his neck and slammed them over his head.
Apollo tested the power behind Zephyrus’s hold and was pleased to find himself unable
to break it. He was continuously surprised by his slender, pretty friend’s strength. And
Zephyrus
was
pretty, no matter what he thought.
“Are
you
ready for round two, baby?”
Apollo tried to get the breathy French accent just right. “I’m so ready…lollipop.”
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55
Zephyrus threw back his head and laughed. “Smartass.” The green nimbus around
Apollo’s body flared and then winked out. “I don’t need parlor tricks to make you scream,”
he whispered. His palms slid up an inch or two so that he could twist his fingers around
Apollo’s. Dark green eyes locked with bright blue.
His first movement was little more than a twitch, the second a bump; it took him
almost a full minute to reach the point where he was withdrawing fully, until only the
crown of his penis remained trapped. On every downstroke, his belly rubbed against Apollo’s
shaft; on every upstroke, he swiveled his hips, rasping against nerves grown sore and
responsive.
Close. Apollo was so damned close! Each thrust was a torture that brought him nearer
to heaven. He was lost in Zephyrus’s eyes.
Apollo’s hips rose.
His balls, tight and painfully full, were crushed into the wind god’s hard groin. His
cock was compressed by the satiny skin of Zephyrus’s stomach.
A sigh, soft as a spring breeze, escaped Zephyrus’s lips. He let go of Apollo’s hands to
cup his palms around the sun god’s cheeks in a gesture both tender and possessive. “Now,
Pol,” he said. “Come now.” His cock swelled, shivered, vibrated alongside Apollo’s prostate.
His mouth slanted down across Apollo’s own: dominant, greedy, voracious.
And Apollo did come -- hard. And he did scream -- though his wail of ravaged pleasure
was muffled by his lover’s tongue.
It took a long while for the moans and sighs and random tremblings to die down.
Eventually, though, they lay still in sated silence.
Apollo’s fingers glided up and down Zephyrus’s back. Zephyrus had laid his head
against Apollo’s chest, listening to the strong beat of his immortal heart. “
Now tell me,
baby
…”
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The smoky words whispered through Apollo’s mind, rousing him from the coma he’d
been trying to slip into.
The wind god lifted his head and gifted Apollo with a slow, sexy smile. “Was that proof
enough for ya?”
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57
Chapter Eight
“It’s dawn.”
Apollo blinked and blinked again. The dark smudge resolved itself into Hermes,
standing bold as you please in the middle of Apollo’s bedroom. The godling glowed like an
angel in the ruddy red light of the rising sun.
“Do you have a death wish, or something?” Apollo rasped. He shoved himself into a
sitting position and grabbed a pillow to lob at Hermes’ head. “Get the fuck outta here.”
Hermes absently slapped it out of the air. His attention was riveted to the pale green
hair that had been revealed when Apollo sat up. If there was any doubt about the sleeper’s
identity, it was dispelled when Zephyrus sat up, too, wings fluttering in annoyance.
“Damn it, baby. I was sleeping on that.”
Apollo winced when Hermes’ eyes widened. A huge, shit-eating grin spread over the
messenger’s face. “Baby,” he mouthed.
“You’re dead!” Apollo clambered out of bed, getting tangled up in the cream sheets as
he did so.
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Hermes laughed and danced away. “Gonna beat me up with that big, nasty club
between your legs, Pol?” He avoided Apollo’s fists to duck inside the sun god’s reach and
deliver an ass pinch. “Put some clothes on, ya perv.”
“It’s my fucking bedroom! I’ll be naked if I want to!”
“Qui hurle?”
Lucas’s dark mop poked out from under the covers at the foot of the bed.
His eyes were red rimmed and swollen.
“Apollo’s yelling,” Zephyrus answered him. “Stop yelling, Pol.”
Apollo threw up his hands. “It’s my fucking bedroom!” he said again, but his volume
had lowered to something approaching normal.
“I know it is. We all know it is. Okay?” Zephyrus patted the mattress next to him.
“Come back to bed.”
When Apollo did, Hermes followed. The messenger threw himself down on his
stomach at their feet. He reached out a hand to snag Lucas’s body and pulled it into his side.
“It’s great to see you guys back in the sack again,” he commented, resting his chin on his fist.
His fingers crept under the covers. Lucas let out a muffled shriek.
“Not that it’s any of your --”
Zephyrus’s palm came over Apollo’s mouth. “She couldn’t keep us apart forever,” he
said in a bored drawl. He turned into Apollo and trailed a proprietary finger down his
heavily muscled stomach. “Now could she?” His hand dropped even farther to cup Apollo’s
balls.
Hermes watched the display with interest.
Ohhhh…duh! Morning was
not
Apollo’s best time, but he did eventually clue in. If
they made Hermes horny enough, all the blood would rush out of the little head on his
shoulders to the big head between his legs, making him less likely to watch what he
said…hopefully.
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59
The sun god made a big production of groaning and shuddering. Not that he had to try
very hard to fake a response -- the lengthening of his cock was a dead giveaway.
“Guess not.” Hermes licked his lips, and Lucas began to moan. The Frenchman came up
gasping for air. “Don’t know why she’d want to, anyway. You guys are so fuckin’ hot
together.”
“I
know!”
Lucas piped in. “Aren’t they?”
“Aphrodite can hold a grudge with the best of them,” Apollo said. He was pumping
into Zephyrus’s fist and seemed to be paying little attention to the conversation. But, in
reality, he was holding his breath, waiting to hear what Hermes would say next.
“You bet,” Hermes agreed blithely. “Don’t know why her panties were so bunched in
the first place; it’s not like Zeph married them himself.”
Apollo’s body coiled, ready to explode into anger. Unbelievable! How many others had
known and turned a blind eye to the goddess’s malicious interference? He was going to beat
the shit out of Hermes -- he had it coming, anyway -- and then demand the whole
goddamned story.
“
Stay calm, baby. Let me handle this
.”
“Now, as I was saying before golden boy starting freaking out,” Hermes went on,
unaware of how close to death he was, “it’s dawn, so I assume you’re done with Monsieur
Bélanger, here?”
Was that Lucas’s last name? Apollo rarely bothered to learn anything about his mortal
lovers except the textures of their bodies and how they sounded when they came.
Hermes stroked Lucas’s sleep-tousled locks. This morning, the boy looked more like
Hyacinth than ever. Apollo was relieved to find that the resemblance didn’t hurt much
anymore.
“If Lucas wants to go with you, Hermes, that’s his choice. He’s a big boy,” Zephyrus
said.
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“Though I warn you, Lucas,” Apollo said, his voice arrogant. “Hermes can’t handle you
properly. Pussy doesn’t have it in him.”
Zephyrus sighed and shook his head at Apollo’s bragging. “
He’ll never agree to testify
against her if you keep goading him like that
.”
“
Oh is tha wha you re try ng to accomp sh? Well, sorry, Zeph, but you’re handling
him all wrong, then
.”
,
t
t
’
i
li
Hermes started to say something, something catty and sharp, no doubt.
Apollo forestalled him by calling Lucas. “Come and give your Master a kiss, pretty one.
Then you’re free to leave, with or without the snot-faced brat. I can send you home alone, if
you’d prefer.”
Lucas shook off Hermes to crawl into Apollo’s lap.
The messenger god’s eyes grew big when he saw the damage that had been done to
Lucas’s back.
“Good-bye, Master,” Lucas whispered, lifting his pouty mouth.
Apollo stole the boy’s breath with the intensity of his kiss. His fingers curled into claws
to rake a trail down Lucas’s spine.
Lucas purred, arching into the pain.
“Now say, ‘thank you.’”
“Thank you, Master.”
Apollo smirked, took Lucas’s bottom lip between his teeth, and bit down hard. The boy
cried out in pleasure. “You’re welcome.”
Hermes cleared his throat once, and then once again. His eyes glowed amber with
desire. When he stood, his disproportionately large erection was very obvious, riding the
seam of his too-tight jeans. “Okay. Kiss, kiss, and all that. Lucas, you coming?” He held out a
palm. Lucas looked to Apollo as if for permission. The sun god nodded.
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“Oui.” Lucas shifted over to kiss Zephyrus. “Thank you, Zephyrus.”
“You’re more than welcome.” And then to Apollo, “
Whatever you’re doing, Pol. Do it
now. They’re going to leave
.”
Lucas had just reached Hermes’ side when Apollo shot off the bed and grabbed the
boy’s arm. Lucas promptly disappeared.
“What the fuck, Apollo?” Hermes hollered. “Bring him back!”
“Hermy, old pal.” Hermes hated being called Hermy, so Apollo called him that at every
opportunity. “Here’s the thing” -- as he was talking, Apollo was invading the messenger god’s
space, herding him backward -- “if you want him, you’re gonna have to do me a little favor.”
Hermes’ shoulders hit the wall. A flare of unease crossed his face before he schooled his
features into a sneer. “Hey, Zeph,” he called, ducking half under the sun god’s armpit to
catch Zephyrus’s eye. “I thought you said Lucas was free to go? You guys can’t hold him
against his will, you know.”
Apollo didn’t look behind him, but it was obvious Zephyrus had made some sort of
“out of my hands” gesture by the frown Hermes wore. Apollo took a hold of Hermes’ throat
and lifted him up to his own eye level. A strong thigh between the messenger’s denim-clad
legs prevented the godling from strangling…too much.
“What do you want, Pol?” Hermes asked. His eyes shot golden brown daggers.
“You’re gonna testify against Aphrodite when we bring her in front of Zeus.” Apollo’s
leg dropped and Hermes gagged. Then it came up again, slamming into Hermes’ balls.
“No way,” Hermes gasped. “You can bust my balls all you like, Pol. But no way. She’d
kill me.”
Zephyrus’s voice came from Apollo’s left shoulder. “This time, we’ll make sure she
doesn’t have a chance to take out her anger on secondary players, Hermes. We’ll ask for your
protection, too.” He reached out to tap the back of Apollo’s hand where it wrapped Hermes’
neck. “Let him speak.”
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Hermes coughed and rubbed his throat. “You don’t piss off the goddess of love and
desire, guys. You just don’t. Look at you two. She’s fucked with you for three thousand
years.” He shook his head. “Nope. Sorry. Not even for a piece of ass as fine as Lucas.” He
punched Apollo’s chest. “You plannin’ on keeping me pinned to this wall all day, goldie?”
“The thought had crossed my mind,” Apollo said, but he stepped away. Not far enough
to let Hermes escape, but far enough that he wasn’t crushing the shape of his body into the
plaster. Perversely, the little godling looked disappointed.
Meanwhile, Zephyrus had moved to lean against the wall, as well, further hemming
Hermes in. “All right, Hermes.” He sighed. “We can’t force you. I imagine there are others
who knew; we’ll just have to find them. Would have been quicker, is all, if the one who told
us testified on our behalf.”
Horror dawned in Hermes’ toffee eyes. “You mean you didn’t already know?
I
was --”
“The one who told us.” Zephyrus’s smile was sweet. “Yep, you were. Aphrodite’s sure
to be interested in
that
little piece of information, don’t you think?” He cocked his head. “But
you’re not going to testify, so I’m sure you’ll be perfectly safe.”
“That’s not…” Hermes licked his lips. “That’s not fair, Zeph.”
Zephyrus chuckled and leaned in close to whisper, “Life’s not fair.”
Still the messenger hesitated. Hermes was far from stupid. His mind was going a
hundred miles a minute, Apollo knew. “
He’s going to say no
,” Apollo thought to Zephyrus.
“
It could take years to find someone else who’ll admit they knew
.”
Zephyrus’s eyes narrowed. “
I
can
get him to agree, Pol. But you might not like the
conditions
.”
Apollo assumed Zephyrus was talking about his and Hermes’ deal. It was nice not to
have to worry about the little thief messing around with his stuff, but Apollo was certainly
willing to break the contract if Hermes would back them up. “
It’s fine. Do whatever you
need to
.”
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63
Zephyrus’s brows twitched up. His dimples flashed. “
All right
.” He nuzzled the
messenger’s cheek. “Now, Hermes,” he purred. “You know Aphrodite’s gonna come after
you, so it seems silly not to take us up on our offer. Plus, that Lucas is such a
fine
piece of
ass” -- his mouth dropped to Hermes’ jaw. He nibbled on it as he spoke -- “especially when
he’s been softened up so nice by Apollo. You could look at the boy sideways and he’d cream.”
Hermes hummed in agreement. “Pol does good work,” he admitted. His hand came up
to cup the back of Zephyrus head.
“He does.” To his lover Zephyrus silently said, “
Pol, get in on the other side of his neck.
Be…aggressive
.”
Be aggressive? Apollo didn’t know where Zephyrus was going with this -- not where
Apollo had expected, that was for sure -- but he could certainly be “aggressive” with the
annoying little godling, if that’s what was required. His mouth curved up. Could he ever!
Hermes gasped when Apollo’s teeth sank into his jugular.
“It’s such a shame that mortals are so frail, though, don’t you think?” The velvet
seduction in Zephyrus’s voice had precome dripping from Apollo’s cock. He rubbed against
Hermes’ stomach in an attempt to ease the ache of desire Zephyrus always seemed to inspire.
Zephyrus’s voice dropped even lower, became even more erotic. How that was
possible, Apollo didn’t know. The sun god groaned and bit down until blood washed his
tongue. He lifted Hermes up by his hips, using the messenger’s whole body to stroke himself.
“Pol!” Hermes moaned. His thin legs wrapped around Apollo’s waist.
“With you, of course,” Zephyrus continued, “Apollo wouldn’t have to hold
anything
back.”
Apollo lifted his head. What? Then he took in the messenger god’s lust-crazed
expression and Zephyrus’s smug smirk.
Gee. Can I get another duh?
he thought. Apollo had
never been interested in Hermes that way -- the godling looked way too young, and
knowing he was pretty much the same age as the rest of them didn’t help. For some weird
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reason, he’d assumed Hermes was just as indifferent to him. Now, a light bulb clicked on.
The little bastard was always trying to piss Apollo off, always trying to get him in a fight.
Apparently, it wasn’t because he found Apollo as annoying as the sun god found him. It was
because…
“Is that right, golden boy?” Hermes dropped his eyes to Apollo’s mouth. “You figure
you can teach me some new tricks?”
Then there was the weapon Hermes was drilling into Apollo’s stomach. Hermes had
called Apollo’s cock a club. Well, if rumor had it right, that would make the messenger god’s
equipment the equivalent of a two-handed great sword, and though Apollo would have
never in a million years admitted it, he really was dying to get a gander.
Putting on his most conceited sneer, Apollo crushed Hermes back against the wall,
cracking the plaster in the process. “I know I can.”
“Do we have a deal, Hermes?” Zephyrus asked softly.
Apollo watched the pulse thrum in Hermes throat. “Do you like knife play,
sweetheart?” he asked when the silence had stretched on a tad too long.
“Oh, fuck it!” Hermes tangled his hands in Apollo’s curls and wrenched his head down.
“Deal,” he groaned. “We have a deal.”
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65
Chapter Nine
“I’m nervous.”
“I can tell.” Apollo stroked Zephyrus’s stiff back with long, soothing sweeps of his
palm.
“Why did so many gods come? I thought this was going to be a small assembly.”
“I assume Aphrodite’s been spreading her tale of woe -- trying to influence the vote.”
Apollo shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. Zeus will overrule a majority if it goes that way. Which it
won’t.”
Yes. Zeus hadn’t been at all surprised to see them in his reception room five days ago.
“Was wondering when you two were going figure it out,” he’d said, which had annoyed
Apollo something fierce. But Zeus had just lifted a white brow at Apollo’s raised voice and
had warned him to rein it in, or Daddy would do it for him. “I can’t do anything until a
charge is laid, Pol,” his father had reminded him. “And I can’t show favoritism.” Zeus had
clapped his son on the back, sending him reeling. “Besides, I knew you’d get together again
despite her. I’ve never seen such a strong soul-bond.”
His father
had
been surprised at the second charge Apollo tried to file and had shaken
his head. “I think you’re wrong, Pol. Just can’t see it.” He’d looked to Zephyrus. “Three
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millennia ago, you were sure Zeph here was responsible for Hyacinth’s death. Didn’t have
any proof, though. Do you now?” Apollo had had to admit, cheeks flaming, that he still had
no real, concrete evidence. “Well, son, we’ll see what the little lady has to say, but a formal
charge isn’t going to be laid without evidence. You know that.”
* * * * *
Apollo tilted his head toward where Hermes sat at the end of their marble bench. “You
think you’re nervous?”
The messenger god had both knees drawn up to his chest and was worrying at his
thumbnail. He looked like a pretty, perched gargoyle, the grimace on his face was so
ferocious.
The only reason he was there at all, Apollo reasoned, was because Hermes knew he
wasn’t getting anywhere near Apollo’s body until he gave testimony.
“Ah, the woman of the hour,” Zephyrus said, his voice much colder than the west
wind’s should ever be. “Late, as usual.” His wings slapped the air, an anxious tic, similar to
finger drumming.
Apollo’s eyes wandered over Aphrodite’s beautiful body. He just couldn’t help himself.
It was a response as uncontrollable as Zephyrus’s wing slapping. Damn, she was looking
fine -- as usual.
Aphrodite’s white-blonde hair was piled in fat curls on top of her dainty head.
Amethysts, the gem closest in color to her amazing violet eyes, coiled through the up-do.
They also glittered around her elegant neck and decorated the impressive swells of her
cleavage. A filmy, plum-colored shift hid nothing of her sumptuous body. Apollo’s mouth
grew dry at the sight of her small fawn nipples, easily seen through the sheer cloth and, quite
without him willing it, his gaze dropped past the golden corset that cinched her waist
indecently small to seek out a glimpse of the darker blonde thatch between her long, long
legs.
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67
“Would you fucking stop?”
Zephyrus growled in his head. “
I thought she wasn’t
allowed to wear that girdle to council
.”
“
It’s a replica
,” Apollo responded. “
Trust me; you’d know if it was the real one. None of
us would still be seated, we’d all be trying to wrestle her, naked, to the floor
.”
“
Hmmph. You, perhaps. But no girdle could make me want the bitch
.”
Apollo refrained from correcting his lover. If Zephyrus had never experienced the
effects of Aphrodite’s cestus-girdle, far be it from Apollo to bring up the few times he,
himself, had.
“So kind of you to grace us with your presence, dear,” Zeus said, his voice dry.
Aphrodite had been studying Zephyrus, her expression unreadable; now her lambent
gaze shifted to Zeus. “One must look one’s best when pleading for leniency, my lord. Don’t
you agree?”
She moved farther into the chamber, coming to a stop a few steps below Zeus’s throne.
The graceful curtsy she sank into puffed up her slip of a dress, treating everyone to a
wonderful view of her full, milky bottom. There was a collective sigh of appreciation.
Zephyrus rolled his eyes.
“Let’s save some time, my lord. I plead guilty to the charge of interfering in a fellow
immortal’s affairs.”
Zeus’s brows twitched up in surprise. This was clearly as shocking to his father as it was
to Apollo. Aphrodite always fought. Always. And the sentence for this particular offence was
bound to be harsh, as only a hundred years before her interference in Apollo and Zephyrus’s
lives, Zeus had found Aphrodite guilty of a similar offence: beguiling her fellow gods into
inappropriate romances.
“In response to the second matter you mentioned…” She turned and again speared
Zephyrus with an enigmatic look. “I deny
any
involvement. But I do wish to point out that
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one of my accusers has long been acknowledged the person responsible for that sad little
affair.”
“Liar!” Zephyrus jumped up and stabbed his finger in Aphrodite’s direction. “You’re a
lying bitch. I didn’t kill Hyacinth. You did! Because you wanted to destroy any chance
Apollo and -- what are you doing? Let me go!”
Apollo wrestled Zephyrus back into his seat, palm firmly clamped over his mouth. He
gave his father a nod.
t’s all under control, Dad. Won’t happen again
.
I
f
As soon as Zephyrus had started yelling, Zeus had shifted the disbelieving look he wore
to Apollo’s lover. His lips had thinned. The message had been clear. Zeus didn’t take well to
disrespect, and having someone leap up and start yelling in the middle of his council
chamber was, Apollo knew, just about the most disrespectful thing Zeus could imagine. The
last god who had done so was dead. Probably the only reason Zephyrus wasn’t dead was
because Apollo was Zeus’s favorite son.
“All right, then,” Zeus said, stroking his snow white goatee and turning his attention
back to Aphrodite. “Do you have anything to say before I pass sentence on the ‘interference’
charge?”
She stood upright again, every movement a siren’s song of beauty. “I do. But I’d rather
explain myself to just you, my lord.”
Zeus’s brows couldn’t get much higher. His forehead was lined with incredulity.
Aphrodite always wanted as big a crowd as possible. She was much too good at manipulating
people not to try and soften her sentences by drumming up the other gods support. “Sure.
Why in Hades not?” he said, bemusement clear in every word. “You heard her, folks.
Everybody out.”
“
You can let go, now. I’m fine
.”
Apollo unwrapped himself from Zephyrus. He’d been half sitting on the wind god to
keep him down.
“I hope so!”
Apollo growled back.
“Are you trying to get yoursel killed?”
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69
“
She ruined my life
.”
“
Temporarily
.”
“Three thousand years can hardly be called temporary, Pol!”
“Let’s just let Zeus deal with it, okay?” Apollo whispered. Before Zephyrus could say
anything else, Apollo had slid down to the other end of the bench. He snagged Hermes’ shirt
as the messenger began to fade. “You stay.”
“Yes, do stay, Hermes,” Aphrodite said over her shoulder. “You can’t start something
and then not see it through.” Her smile was sweetened with murderous intent. “Don’t you
want to know how this is going to end?”
For you, when I get through with you?
She didn’t
have to say it aloud. Everyone heard it, anyway.
“Enough, Di,” Zeus rumbled. “You’ve admitted you’re in the wrong here. Hermes had
nothing to do with your crime. You’ll leave him be; is that clear?”
The goddess shifted on her feet, her stance gone from seduction, to confrontation, to
petulance in the space of a minute. “Perfectly, my lord.”
Zeus made a motion and the chamber’s great iron doors began to swing closed behind
the last of the retreating gods. Abruptly, the door’s inward motion stopped. “Boreas, is there
a reason you’re still here?”
Apollo turned his head to see Zephyrus’s brother seated way up in the last row of
stands. Boreas’s wife, Orithyia, was tugging on his arm, an obstinate look on her handsome
face. “Come away!” she whispered. A trick of acoustics made it seem like she’d whispered
directly into Apollo’s ear.
“No,” Boreas replied, his voice just as low, and just as easily heard. “I think it’s time I
set the record straight. Better to admit it before --”
“Fine! You’re being a fool, husband. But then, that’s nothing new.” Orithyia stood and,
with a stern posture, made her way to the exit.
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Boreas swiped a hand through his short, spiky blue hair, looking embarrassed. His
wings, a silver identical to Zephyrus’s, flared wide as he glided down to join the group on the
bench. He landed between Apollo and Zephyrus, looked askance at them both, and quickly
stood to walk a short distance to the side. There he stopped, head bowed, arms crossed.
Zeus waited a long moment, just staring at the top of Boreas’s frosted blue head.
“Well?” he finally said, irritation black in his eyes. “Don’t keep us in suspense, Boreas!”
The north wind looked up. His cyan gaze seemed especially bright in contrast to the
ruddiness of his cheeks. “Oh. Err. I thought I’d wait until this Aphrodite business was
finished, my lord.”
Zeus threw up his hands. Lightning flashed and spat around his body. “And how in
Hades was I supposed to know you weren’t talking about this Aphrodite business in the first
place? By all the heavens, I’m surrounded by morons!”
Apollo and Zephyrus exchanged an uneasy glance. Zeus in a snit was a bad thing, and
not just for Aphrodite. Good ol’ Dad had a nasty temper. Apollo could only pray it didn’t end
up directed at him and Zephyrus.
“Aphrodite!” Zeus pointed his staff at her and the goddess flinched. She didn’t cower
outright. You had to admire that. “Explain yourself already.”
“Yes, my lord.” She brought her hands together in a gesture of respect. “Three
millennia ago, when it became apparent that he and Zephyrus had soul-pledged, I did have
Apollo’s memories altered. Then I had Eros pierce him and send him after a girl
named…ahh…” Here she faltered.
“Daphne,” Apollo supplied in a tight, angry tone. He’d chased that damned nymph for
almost a year, and all the while he’d been wondering what the fuck his problem was; why
he’d pursue a woman who’d made it painfully clear that she abhorred him. Now he knew.
Thank the heavens that Eros’s arrows eventually wore off. Otherwise, Apollo might still be
hounding the poor girl.
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71
“Yes, Daphne. That’s right.” She gave Apollo an apologetic smile.
A pretty smile wasn’t going to cut it this time. Daphne had been one of the most
embarrassing affairs of Apollo’s long life.
“Why?” Zeus asked.
“I…I’m afraid I lost my temper, my lord. After you’d ruled that Psyche and Eros be
married, despite her treachery, I --”
“Be very, very careful, my dear. Your sentence has not yet been decided.”
Aphrodite blanched. “Uhh. Well, anyway,” she rushed on, “after the marriage, I
learned that Zephyrus was the one who had allowed it to happen.”
“I didn’t
allow
anything to happen,” Zephyrus cut in, and while it was apparent he was
beyond angry, Zephyrus kept his voice low. If ice snapped in his words, what of it? “Eros
would have found a way to be with Psyche with or without my help.” To Apollo he sent,
“
And then look what my ‘supposed’ friend goes and does. Do the guy a huge fucking favor
and he still doesn’t think twice about sending you away on Mommy’s say-so. He knew we
were pledged, damn him
.”
“
Yes. Eros has some payback coming
,” Apollo agreed.
As if privy to their silent communication, Zeus sighed and said, “Looks like your son
should be present, too, Di.” He raised his leonine white head to the ceiling and bellowed,
“Eros, attend me!”
The god of male lust appeared at once, looking sullen. That wasn’t his fault. He always
looked sullen. Eros was another godling with the face and physique of a teenager. His deep-
set, grass green eyes hid behind a thicket of black dreadlocks. His dolly bow of a mouth
pouted all on its own, even when he was expressionless, and his shoulders were perpetually
slouched, probably due to the heavy quiver of gold and lead arrows he wore. “My lord?” he
asked. His voice, by comparison, was a mature man’s, cultured and intelligent.
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“Really quick,” said Zeus, “because I can already see this is going to be a long, drawn
out pain in my ass, why did you pierce Apollo with a golden arrow and send him after the
female, Daphne, when it was common knowledge that he and Zephyrus had just soul-
pledged?”
Eros began to look nervous. He brushed aside the tangle of hair over his eyes. “That
was a very long time ago, my lord.”
“I realize that, Eros. Answer the question.”
Now Eros looked to his mother. Aphrodite made a subtle motion that Apollo
interpreted as, “go ahead.” She must have realized that lying was bound to get her son, and
her, into even more trouble.
“My mother asked me to,” he admitted. “She said she’d have Psyche regretting our
marriage if I didn’t.”
“I thought you and Zephyrus were close,” Zeus commented. “You must have known
how sending Apollo away was going to affect him.”
“I did.” He shrugged and turned to say, “Sorry, Zeph. I didn’t feel like I had much
choice. Between you and Apollo, or Psyche and I… No contest, I’m afraid.”
“Of course there was the little matter of you hating my guts,” Apollo spat, his mouth
twisted in disdain. “I’m sure that weighed in on the decision-making process.” Eros and
Apollo had always disliked each other. It had been going on so long Apollo couldn’t even
remember why, really, except that Eros was a cocky, manipulative bastard who claimed to be
a better archer than Apollo -- as if. There was that.
Eros matched his sneer. “I’ll admit, I did hope some time away from you would clear
Zephyrus’s head. I mean, come
on
, you and Zeph?”
This time Zephyrus held Apollo down when the sun god tried to leap up.
Zeus noticed and shot his son a quelling look. “All right, Eros. That’ll be enough. You
can go.”
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The god of lust backed toward the door. Zeus hated people dispersing in his presence,
made him nervous, he said. They could bloody well walk. As he turned to exit, Eros flipped
Apollo off, well out of Zeus’s line of sight.
Zephyrus had the nerve to snigger.
“
He’s such a complete asshole
,” Apollo complained.
“
Yeah
,” Zephyrus agreed. “
He’s always kinda reminded me of you that way. Only not
nearly as good-looking
.”
That made Apollo smile, despite himself. “
So I’m an asshole, but I’m a good-looking
asshole
.”
“
Pretty much
.”
“One last question, Di,” Zeus said. “How exactly
did
you alter my son’s memory? Have
you been keeping secrets about your abilities?”
“No, my lord!” she cried. A secret like that could get her killed. “I would never. I asked
Clotho for assistance.”
Zeus must have realized he was gaping at her, because he shut his mouth with an
abrupt click. “Of course you did,” he said, sitting back with another huge sigh. “Why in
Hades wouldn’t you?”
There was silence in the chamber as Zeus thought about what to do. The Fate sisters
were outside of Zeus’s rule. They did as they pleased and answered to no one. The god of all
pressed his fist into the center of his forehead. “You’ve just doubled your sentence, Di,” he
said, whisper soft. “Because now I’m going to owe the Moirae a favor…” He jerked forward
in his chair, his voice going from soft to strident in nine words. “And you
know
how much I
hate owing favors!”
She cowered right quick this time, throwing herself at his feet. “Forgive me, my lord!”
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“Not bloody likely.” He kicked her away and took a deep breath. “Clotho,” he called
out in a pleasant tenor. It was weird how easily Zeus could switch his rage on and off. Apollo
had always envied that knack.
“Yes, Zeus?” Her sibilant voice drifted through the chamber. The Fates could never
leave their looms, so contact with them was usually like this -- a voice in a room.
The muscles in Zeus’s jaw twitched. That the youngest Fate had answered so fast
probably meant she’d been monitoring the discussion for a while now.
Zeus raised his hand in threat when Aphrodite went to stand and the goddess ducked
back down, forehead to the floor. “Hello, my dear,” he said to the Fate. “Would it be possible
for you to go back some three thousand years and unsnarl the memories of my son Apollo?”
“You know I can, love.” Her tinkling laughter made the chandeliers sway. “But are you
sure you want me to? After all, he’s reunited with his lover already, and I would, indeed,
expect a favor in return. You know how you
hate
it when the Moirae call in favors.”
Zeus turned bright red. Something Apollo had never seen. His father glared at
Aphrodite. Even though she
was
the bad guy here, Apollo began to worry for the goddess’s
safety. He stood up, shaking off Zephyrus’s restraining arm in the process. “
I
will be the one
indebted to you, mistress.” It was hard to know where to look; Clotho’s voice came from
everywhere. “If you restore my memories, whatever is in my power to grant will be yours.”
Zeus sent his son a look of thanks. The Fates were known to be unreasonable. Didn’t
matter. Apollo wanted those memories back…at any cost. It never hurt to have his father
feeling grateful toward him, either.
“Deal.” Clotho said at once. “Now let me see.” Above the clacking of her loom they
heard the hiss of thread being spooled at high speed. Apollo experienced a wave of vertigo
and swayed on his feet. “Ohhh, right,” she murmured when the sound stopped. She laughed
again. “Apollo?”
“Yes?” he replied, standing straight once more.
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75
“I think, perhaps, I’d better wait until you’re alone before I hand these over. Why don’t
you go home and call me when you’re ready.”
What? No. Apollo wanted his memories back right now. He opened his mouth to say as
much, and Zephyrus whispered, “Don’t, Pol. She’s right.” In a louder voice, the wind god
said, “He’ll contact you in a few hours, mistress.”
“I’m always here.”
The sound of her loom faded away.
“Dare I ask how you managed to enlist the Fate’s help?” Zeus asked, leaning over to
grasp Aphrodite’s tunic and lift her to her knees.
“It was easy. She had her eye on an Egyptian boy, you see, and…”
And didn’t that say it all. When you got right down to it, Apollo realized, everything
the gods did ended up revolving around sex.
Zeus rolled his eyes and lifted a palm to silence her. “Forget I asked.”
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Chapter Ten
Apollo found Aphrodite’s sentence harsh. Two hundred years on Earth, stripped of her
beauty and power, forbidden from contacting any of the Pantheon and, as if that wasn’t
enough, she was to be a mute the entire time. The mute part seemed especially cruel.
Zeus hadn’t been kidding about doubling her punishment for daring to involve the
Fates.
Zephyrus, however, seemed to think Aphrodite had gotten off easy. Two hundred
years of misery compared to three thousand. Boo-freakin-hoo.
Not that either of their opinions were sought.
When the goddess had made as dignified an exit as she was able to, all eyes turned to
Boreas.
“Spill,” Zeus demanded. “This has taken up enough of my time. I would see an end to
it.”
Boreas looked like he might be regretting whatever impulse had led him to speak up in
the first place. “It’s about Hyacinth,” he said, studying his toes between furtive glances at
Zephyrus and Apollo. He’d been staring at the pair off and on since he’d flown down.
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“I would have never guessed.” Zeus’s tone let them all know he was fast running out of
patience. “What about Hyacinth? Was it you who killed him? If so, spit it out, already, so we
can all go home.”
“No, my lord. I didn’t kill him. I know I didn’t. I just gave the discus a light push.”
Zephyrus stared at his brother, horrified.
Boreas fidgeted and looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. “But when I learned that
Zeph had done the same thing, with opposite intention…” He shrugged. “I think the
conflicting winds must have --”
“Why in Hades were you even there?” Zephyrus cried.
You wouldn’t have thought it possible for Boreas to look more uncomfortable, but
there it was. “Because you’d told me that Hyacinth was hoping Pol would drop his other
lovers if he won. And when I laughed at the idea of Pol being monogamous, you said he
might actually do it, remember? You said if Hy won he might actually do it.”
Zephyrus looked confused. “Yes. I vaguely remember that conversation. But why --”
His eyes narrowed and he whipped around to slug Apollo in the arm. “Shit, Pol, is there
anyone on Olympus you haven’t fucked?”
Having nothing to say that Zephyrus would want to hear, Apollo sat down and chose
to remain silent.
“So let me get this straight,” Zeus said. “You slept with Apollo after he and Zephyrus
had stopped seeing each other?”
Boreas massaged the back of his dusky neck. “Well, Zeph kept raving about him,” he
mumbled. “So I figured --”
“You figured screw my brother, what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Zephyrus cut
in bitterly.
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“Yeah, I did,” Boreas shot back, regaining some of his renowned bad humor. “Like you
wouldn’t have done the same damn thing.” They glared at each other across the top of
Apollo’s head, both wearing identical expressions of indignation.
The brothers really were remarkably similar in appearance; same height, same skin
color, and back then Boreas’s hair had been long and straight, just like Zephyrus’s. Apollo
remembered becoming entranced by the winged god’s elvish looks right around that time,
but also remembered being disappointed by Boreas. He realized, now, that he must have
been subconsciously seeking a replacement for Zephyrus. Too bad Boreas was
no
Zephyrus.
Still, they’d had been hot and heavy at that point, and now that Boreas had stepped up and
admitted his involvement, Apollo could see how the north wind’s selfishness would have led
him to intervene. Unfortunately, the west wind’s self
less
ness had made Zephyrus do the
same -- at the exact same moment. The two opposing forces had resulted in the untimely
death of a boy Apollo had dearly loved. “What a cock up,” he sighed.
“You can say that again,” Zeus agreed. He inclined his head toward the brothers. “It’s
your call, Apollo. But if you choose to lay charges, it will have to be against both of them.”
“I’ll take my share of the blame,” Zephyrus said, all stoic.
Apollo resisted the urge to smack him. “
Not gonna happen, Zeph
,” he said silently. “
I’m
not going to lose you again. Not for any amount of time. No matter how much I might want
to see Boreas taken to task for his idiocy
.” Aloud, he said, “No, my lord. I won’t be laying any
charges.”
Zeus nodded. “Let this be the end of it, then. The matter is permanently closed.” He
rose and strode down the stairs to clap Apollo on the shoulder. “I owe you one for Clotho,
kid. Thanks.”
“They’re my memories, Dad. I should be the one to pay for them.”
“Oh, Aphrodite’s going to pay, too, Pol. Don’t you doubt it. But if you need my help
with the Fates, or anything else, all you have to do is ask.”
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A favor owing from Zeus -- that was worth more than all the gold in Greece.
Not a bad
day when all was said and done
, Apollo thought.
Not bad at all
.
Zephyrus patted Apollo on the ass. “
Come on, baby. Let’s go home so you can
remember why you love me so damned much
.”
Apollo grinned.
And the day was only going to get better.
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Chapter Eleven
Hermes caught up with them as they were about to leave the council chamber. “Hey,
what about me?”
Boreas brushed past without a word.
“What about you?” Apollo asked.
“We had a deal.” The godling skidded to a stop in front of the pair.
“You didn’t testify, Hermes. You weren’t needed,” Zephyrus reminded him.
“Yeah, but” -- Hermes frowned and raked a hand through his mink shiny hair -- “she
knew I was going to, and that’s probably part of the reason she gave up without a fight. And
she’s
pissed
at me.” In a show of nerves, Hermes nibbled the corner of his lower lip. “Really
pissed,” he clarified. “So I’ve more than earned my reward, don’t you think?”
“Do we?”
Zephyrus asked Apollo.
Apollo crossed his muscular arms over his bare chest and made a big production of
considering it. In reality, Hermes was right. The messenger had fulfilled his part of the
bargain, and Apollo was going to have to pony up. Some fun could be had first, though, since
Hermes didn’t
know
Apollo intended to honor Zephyrus’s promise.
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“Don’t you?” Hermes asked again, his toffee eyes widening in dismay. “Fuck, Pol! What
was I sup --”
“Drop your pants.”
“Wh-what?” Hermes glanced around the now-empty chamber. They were the only
ones left.
“You heard me,” Apollo said. “I’m not sure you
have
fulfilled our bargain, Hermy, and
seeing what hangs between your legs could help me decide one way or another.” His gaze fell
to Hermes’ crotch. “Don’t keep me waiting, boy.”
Hermes fiddled with the oversized pewter belt buckle holding up his skintight hip-
huggers. “Umm, okay, but not here. Why don’t we go --”
“Here. Now. Or I walk.”
Zephyrus leaned back against the stone wall and studied his fingernails, looking for all
the world as if he were waiting for a bus. “Just hurry up about it, Hermes,” he said.
“Ssshit,” the godling hissed. He undid the belt with angry fingers, unzipped, and
wrenched his pants down, underwear and all. “There. Satisfied?”
Apollo had to consciously keep his mouth shut; otherwise he’d be slack-jawed.
Zephyrus didn’t manage to hold in his own reaction half as well. The wind god glanced up
when the pewter buckle struck the floor and then performed a classic double take. “Holy
fuck!” he said.
It was mostly flaccid and still reached to mid-thigh. Long and thick, it looked like
Hermes was sporting a purple third arm.
The messenger god blushed, which wasn’t the reaction Apollo would have expected.
Good gods, if
he’d
been the one hung like a bull, Apollo would have flaunted himself every
opportunity he got. Well, okay, he did that anyway, but you get the point.
“I think I may cry,” Zephyrus breathed.
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“You figure you can get your mouth around that?”
Apollo asked Zephyrus, the thought
full of amusement.
“
’m gonna g ve i my be shot
,” Zephyrus replied, equally amused.
“Did you know he
was strapping that?”
I
i
t
st
“
I’d heard
--”
Hermes scowled and bent over to grab his jeans. “So is the deal still on, or what?”
Apollo turned his attention back to the annoyed messenger. As he came upright,
Apollo stepped forward so that Hermes’ dark head butted against his stomach. The godling
couldn’t resist brushing his mouth across Apollo’s rippled abs. He let out a little moan as he
did so. Apollo grinned.
Gotcha
, he thought. “Hang on there, Hermy.” He reached down to
halt the denim’s upward progress.
“What now?” Hermes was avoiding Apollo’s gaze, looking fixedly at his right nipple,
instead.
Apollo ran a hand up his own chest, tweaking the nipple into rigidity on his way past.
Hermes swayed toward him. “I want to see it hard,” Apollo leaned down to say, his lips
whispering over Hermes’.
Those long-fringed, golden brown eyes rose to meet his. This close, Hermes’ pupils
were big black pools. “Look down.”
Startled, Apollo did so. He laughed to find Hermes flying at half-mast and rising even
as he watched. “Nice.” Apollo called his favorite cock ring to hand and dropped to one knee.
He slipped the brown leather cuff around Hermes’s scrotum and the base of his penis and
began to cinch it. “Say when.”
“When!”
Apollo gave it one more pull, just to be mean, before doing up the buckles. Hermes’
cock was truly hard now. His balls were thrust forward, crushed against the base of his tree-
trunk shaft, strangling so pretty the sun god just had to lean in and give them a bite.
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“Gods!” Hermes gasped. He pressed Apollo’s head closer. “Gods, please, can we go
already?”
One more bite, for good measure, and Apollo stood. “Well,
we’re
going to go.” He held
out his hand to Zephyrus, who obligingly came to stand beside him.
The wind god wrapped an arm around Apollo’s waist and smiled down at Hermes. “We
should be done by say…” He caught Apollo’s eye. “Midnight?”
“
It shouldn’t take three hours to restore my memories, Zeph
.”
“
No. But I’m going to want you all to myself for at least two hours after you get ’em
back. We’ll need the time. Trust me
.”
Apollo nodded. “Yes, that sounds good. Why don’t you come by at midnight, Hermes?”
Hermes frowned. “If we weren’t going to play, why in Hades did you put this on?” he
asked, gesturing to his cock.
“Because you’re going to wear it till then.”
“I’m freakin’ not!” Hermes choked out, fumbling for the clasp.
Apollo’s hand fell over his. “If it comes off between now and then, Hermy, I’ll know.”
“I can’t do up my pants, Pol.” The messenger’s voice trembled. Color had bloomed high
up on his cheekbones.
Apollo and Zephyrus started to fade. “I don’t care. If it comes off, you don’t come at all.
Got it?”
“Oh, fuck me,” was the last thing they heard Hermes say.
* * * * *
They were still sniggering when they rematerialized in Apollo’s bedchamber. “I can’t
do up my pants!” Apollo mimicked. “Woe is me; I’ve got a twelve-inch dick.”
Zephyrus fell onto the bed roaring with laughter. “The look on his face, man!”
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“Yeah. Didn’t know he would be so easy to scare.” Apollo crashed down beside his
lover. “That’ll make tonight fun.
And I can’t wait to see you sucking on that monster
.”
Zephyrus stopped laughing, though his eyes still sparkled with humor. “Oh?” He rolled
to face Apollo and hugged him close. “Sure you won’t be jealous?”
“Sure I
will
be,” Apollo said, burrowing into Zephyrus’s neck, seeking out that sweet
spot he’d recently discovered -- rediscovered, he supposed -- just under the wind god’s
collarbone. Zephyrus raised his chin, giving Apollo all the room he needed. His leg came
over Apollo’s hip, and their groins bumped together.
“But I know you love me best,” Apollo said. He moved up to tickle his tongue into
Zephyrus’s ear. “So I plan to just sit back and enjoy.
And do my damndest to make you
equally jealous
.”
“I do, you know?” Zephyrus said, stroking his fingers through Apollo’s thick curls.
“Hmmm?” Apollo so enjoyed being petted.
“Love you best. I do. Always have.” He tugged on Apollo’s hair to make him raise his
head and meet his eyes. “Even when we were just friends, you were all I ever thought
about.” His expression turned pensive. “Then it was like you finally clued in, finally realized
I could be more than just a drinking buddy. And, bam, three weeks later you were gone.”
“You were always more than just my drinking buddy, Zephyrus. You were my best
friend.” Apollo shrugged one massive shoulder. “I guess I knew you were attracted to me,
and you must know I’ve lusted after your beautiful bod from the very first moment I saw
you.” He snorted out a breath of wry amusement and shook his head. “The thing is, most
every time I’ve tried to turn a friend into a lover… Well, I’ll be honest, it usually blows up in
my face.”
Apollo took his turn at a contemplative expression. “Listen, Zeph, I don’t know what
the catalyst was that got us together. I can’t remember. But I figure it has to be that I finally
got my head on straight and realized losing you as a friend was a risk I was going to have to
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85
take, because not having you as a lover was
killing
me. I do remember that. I could hardly
stand to be in the same room with you, to look at you, without…” He shook his head again,
at a loss for words.
Those gorgeous dimples flashed in Zephyrus’s cheeks. “Without ripping my clothes
off?” he supplied.
“Right,” Apollo agreed, chuckling. “Without ripping your clothes off.”
Zephyrus rolled to straddle the sun god. “I know. You’ve told me this before.”
“I have?”
“Mmm hmm.” He pressed a kiss to Apollo’s throat. “Right before you ripped my clothes
off.” He wriggled against the bulge growing under his stomach. “Call Clotho, Pol. I want you
to remember our first time.” Zephyrus’s eyes glittered with neon green light as he reared up
over Apollo. “The first time, and every single fuckin’ time after.”
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Chapter Twelve
“All right, love,” Clotho said. Her words whispered in Apollo’s ear, intimate and
otherworldy. Goose bumps raced across his skin. “Even though you’re a god, and a relatively
stable one at that” -- here she laughed, letting Apollo and Zephyrus know she found that to
be a charming anomaly, rather than a rule -- “I’m going to reintroduce these memories nice
and slow, so as not to overwhelm you.”
“Okay,” Apollo said.
Whatever. Just do it
.
“Lie back and relax. Are you relaxed?”
“Yes.” No. These memories, by all accounts, were of the happiest, most important three
weeks in his life. Apollo was tense, vibrating with anticipation.
Zephyrus rested his hand on Apollo’s forehead, inching his palm down to force the sun
god’s eyes closed. “Relax.”
“Let’s begin,” Clotho purred.
* * * * *
Drunk. That part he’d gotten right. The first time he and Zephyrus were together the
catalyst had been that Apollo was wrecked, shit-faced, wasted out of his mind on ambrosia
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87
laced with alcohol and some little red flower Dionysos had said was sure to make this the
best party ever!
The concoction had certainly lowered everyone’s inhibitions. Not that they’d been
very high to begin with. But that night, even his twin sister -- holier-than-thou Artemis --
had been going at it in a dark corner. With Poseidon, no less. Apollo could have sworn she
wasn’t into men, but the mysterious flowers must have made her crave cock just as much as
her brother. Which was a
whole
damn lot. He’d been cross-eyed with horniness. And
everywhere Apollo had looked he’d seen gorgeous males. Though none had been as gorgeous
as the guy who lounged among the floor cushions with him -- equally wrecked. For at least
an hour, Apollo had been doing his damndest to ignore the insane urge to roll on top of his
best friend and fuck him senseless.
“M’gonna get s’more drinks,” Zephyrus had slurred. When the wind god had stumbled
to his feet, the white shift he’d worn had been in complete disarray. Both tiny nipples had
been on display. And between his legs, where the fabric had ruched up, Apollo could have
sworn he’d seen the brown skin of Zephyrus’s balls.
“’Kay,” Apollo had replied, while trying to adjust his hard-on as inconspicuously as
possible. “Hurry back,” he’d been unable to stop himself from adding.
Zephyrus had smiled over his shoulder, a slow, sexy grin that hadn’t helped cool
Apollo’s blood one bit. “I will, baby.”
Apollo remembered grimacing in mock anger. He hadn’t known why Zephyrus had
taken to calling him “baby” -- usually when they were both wasted, like that night. Just to
bug him, Apollo had suspected. But, ha-ha, the joke had been on Zephyrus, because every
time he’d called Apollo that a strange little buzz had shot straight to the sun god’s groin. That
night, the buzz had been an electric lightning bolt.
That’s it
, he’d thought, watching the
sway of Zephyrus’s ass.
That’s it. That’s all. Tonight I’m gonna show you who the “baby” is
’round here, green man. And it’s not me
.
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Dionysos, the slut, had attacked Zephyrus before he’d gotten ten feet away. Really --
attacked! He’d leaped out of nowhere onto Zephyrus’s back, knocking him to the ground.
Before they’d even hit the floor, Dionysos had had his hand up Zephyrus’s skirt.
Apollo had wasted precious seconds trying to extricate himself from the stupid pillows,
seconds in which Zephyrus had started to moan. Hearing that, Apollo had kind of lost his
mind. Okay. Not “kind of.” He’d given up on gaining his feet and had crawled over to the
intertwined pair. With one hand, he’d wrenched Dionysos off by his long red hair. The god
of decadence had gone sprawling. His other hand, Apollo had wrapped tight around
Zephyrus’s completely bared, gloriously hard cock and, without taking even a second to
focus, he’d willed Zephyrus and himself away from Dionysos’s party.
He’d been aiming for a beautiful spot he knew atop Mount Olympus, but they’d
somehow ended up inside the mountain, instead. On their knees. It had been cold and dark,
small and cramped. Sharp-edged rock had hemmed them in on all sides. Apollo hadn’t given
a flying fuck.
“Wha…where?”
Apollo remembered making his body glow so they could see each other. The soft blush
of a new dawn had filled the tiny chamber, casting crisp purple shadows on the rock
surrounding them. “Don’t know,” he’d said, pouncing. “Don’t care.” He’d ripped Zephyrus’s
shift the rest of the way off. His friend had been too shocked to stop him. “Gods, Zeph,” he’d
moaned. “You really are beautiful. I’ve wanted to get you naked for so damned long!”
“Whoa,” Zephyrus had gasped as he’d snatched Apollo’s hands off his body. “Whoa.
What are you doing, Pol?”
“Fuck you…gonna fuck you.” Apollo had dragged Zephyrus’s hands down to his cock,
and the wind god had moaned, an unashamed sound. Apollo smiled as he remembered that.
It had been obvious that Zephyrus wanted him just as bad.
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“You’re drunk!” his friend had said, but those long, fine fingers had wrapped around
Apollo’s shaft as he’d said it, as if the wind god simply hadn’t been able to help himself.
“So what? So are you.” Apollo had ducked his head to thrust his tongue between
Zephyrus’s lips. Zephyrus had opened right up.
Ah, yes. Apollo remembered the first time he’d been subjected to the amazing talent of
Zephyrus’s mouth. It had felt like the top of his head might blow off. So good! “Gods, I need
to be inside you,” he’d gasped, between deep, desperate kisses.
“No.”
Zephyrus had shoved him away, sending Apollo reeling into the hard, razor-edged
rock of the wall. Apollo remembered the feel of blood dripping down his back, and when
he’d tried to move, he remembered the uncomprehending shock he’d felt to realize that he
couldn’t. Zephyrus had pinned him down with a cyclone wind. “What’s the problem?”
Apollo had asked, struggling to make himself heard over the crush of pounding air. “I know
you want me.”
Zephyrus had seemed to have no difficulty making
himself
heard. His sexy voice had
woven through the tempest and Apollo’s cock had throbbed. “I do want you, Pol.”
He’d sidled closer to pet Apollo’s torso. His clever fingers had scratched and pinched
until the sun god could hardly think. Apollo had felt such a thrill when he’d realized that he
was completely at Zephyrus’s mercy. “But I want you to be sober enough to remember it,”
Zephyrus had said, right before he’d taken Apollo’s nipple between his teeth and bitten
down so hard Apollo had almost come. “Will you remember this, baby?” More exquisite bites
had made it difficult for Apollo to answer. “Will you remember me being deep inside that
perfect body of yours?”
Apollo had laughed outright. The absurdity of that statement had cleared his head
enough for him to say, “Me inside
you
, you mean? Yeah, I’ll remember. I’ve wanted you too
long not to remember it.”
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He’d been flipped over like a leaf caught in a tempest, his cheek flush against the stone,
his arms spread wide.
“But I
didn’t
mean that.”
And gods, those teeth, that mouth, had continued to torment him.
“Your back’s bleeding, Apollo,” Zephyrus had said, his breath hot against the curve of
Apollo’s ass.
Apollo had yelped in surprise when a long, well-oiled finger had breached his body.
Where’d the oil come from? he’d wondered. The answer wasn’t important. What
was
important was that Apollo never bottomed. Never. “Have you ever bled for a lover before?”
Zephyrus had asked.
The question had been so outrageous it had taken Apollo a second to answer. Or maybe
he’d been unable to speak because of the sinful feelings Zephyrus had provoked every time
his finger had brushed against Apollo’s prostate. “No,” he’d gasped. Not entirely sure if he
was answering Zephyrus’s question or protesting the radical loss of control he was
experiencing. It felt so damned good, and he was so drunk, how in Hades was he supposed to
resist this?
Two fingers. More biting. Apollo began to rock against the vicious stone.
“Never?” Zephyrus’s voice had thrummed with amusement. “All those whips and
knives you like to play with and you’ve never once been on the receiving end?”
The obvious finale to this line of questioning had made Apollo shudder.
“You’ve wanted to, though. Haven’t you?” Zephyrus’s fingers had scissored one final
time and then he’d been pressed flush against Apollo’s back, his words intimate in his ear.
“Do you want me to whip you, baby? Whip you until you beg for my cock? I will, you
know.” He’d caught Apollo’s earlobe in his teeth. “If you want me to.”
Apollo had tested the strength of Zephyrus’s invisible holds once more, struggling
madly. They had remained immovable.
Thank Zeus
, he remembered thinking.
I’m drunk,
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91
he’s strong…no choice. Not my choice
. Apollo had hidden this secret away deep in his soul,
but somehow Zephyrus had known it anyway. Had known Apollo wanted to have the
decision taken away from him. Gods, how had he known?”
“But I’ve waited so long, Pol,” Zephyrus had groaned. “Tonight, there’s no time for any
of that. I need you too much.” The blunt tip of his cock had nudged between Apollo’s ass
cheeks. Apollo remembered holding his breath until he’d seen strobing white lights speckle
his vision. Nothing had happened.
“Zeph!” he’d moaned. “Please!”
Apollo’s hair had been pulled until his neck had arched back, until he’d been looking
into Zephyrus’s dark green eyes. Lust, hope, regret…love. The mix of emotions caught in
those glittering orbs had stolen his heart. Right then. That was it -- the instant when he’d
realized he was head over heels in love with his best friend.
In the present, Apollo’s arm tightened around his lover as he relived that precious
moment.
“I won’t rape you,” Zephyrus had whispered. His nails had trailed up Apollo’s flanks
until they’d settled on the sun god’s hips. The very slightest of pressures, an almost
nonexistent tug backward. “If you want me, you’re going to have to show me.”
And he had. Apollo had pushed back until Zephyrus had breached his body. Just the
head. Apollo knew his friend wasn’t huge; the gods knew he’d eyed his cock enough times.
No, Zephyrus was beautiful, well-formed, oddly graceful looking…but not huge. He’d
felt
huge, though -- a massive, granite-hard intrusion in Apollo’s virgin hole. Apollo’s long,
golden lashes had fluttered closed. He’d moaned, “Help me.”
Zephyrus’s body had been trembling, Apollo remembered. His panting breaths had
puffed against Apollo’s neck, raising every hair on his body. “Pol…gods, Pol. You’re so
damned tight.” He’d inched forward. Slow. Patient. The embodiment of tenderness. His
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tongue had traced frantic circles on Apollo’s shoulders and throat, the only sign of his
desperation.
“That’s ’cause you’re my first.”
Zephyrus’s eyes had popped open. “Apollo…” he’d said, so clearly astonished it had
made Apollo smile. “I --”
Apollo had cupped the back of his head and drawn him in closer. “Shhh. I’m glad it’s
you, Zeph.” He’d licked the corner of Zephyrus’s mouth and had thrust himself back, gasping
when Zephyrus had finally hilted and his pale green pubic curls had brushed Apollo’s skin. “I
couldn’t imagine giving myself to anyone else.”
“Gods,” the wind god had moaned. “I love you so damned much!”
It was a bit of a blur after that. Apollo remembered deep kisses, a gifted hand on his
cock, the pain and pleasure of being stretched wide, of being pounded into a twitching,
groaning pulp. He remembered the jolts of bliss whenever Zephyrus had knocked against
that magical knot deep inside his body, and the tears that had slipped free down both their
cheeks. And he remembered saying “I love you” over and over again. “I love you, Zeph.”
When Zephyrus’s cock had convulsed, buried so deep, so damned deep, he’d screamed
Apollo’s name, his shriek irresistibly anguished, and his fist had bruised Apollo’s cock in his
seizure of pleasure. Apollo had screamed with him. The sound of their combined howls had
reverberated through the tiny rock chamber until Apollo had thought he’d go mad. It had
been, without a doubt, the best sex of his life.
“I love you, Zeph,” he murmured into Zephyrus’s hair, caught between the present and
the past.
Zephyrus bit the apple of Apollo’s shoulder. “Darn right you do.”
The memories were coming fast now, as if a sluice gate had been…not lifted, blasted to
pieces, perhaps?
Forgive & Forget
93
The next day he’d woken in Zephyrus’s mellow green bedchamber with no idea how
they’d gotten there. Before he’d even had a chance for regret, the wind god had been above
him, inside him. It had been even better face-to-face. Apollo had watched his lover’s lips part
on a silent cry of ecstasy, had been tumbled over that chasm of pleasure with him, and had
realized that he
had
no regrets. None. But… “Next time,” he’d whispered, resting his
forehead against the erratic pulse in Zephyrus’s throat, “I want to fuck you.”
“We’ll see,” Zephyrus had replied, feathering kisses over his forehead. “We’ll see.”
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Chapter Thirteen
He’d had to train Zephyrus. The memory made Apollo smile. The wind god had been
more than willing to accommodate Apollo’s darker desires -- and his desires could get pretty
dark -- but Zephyrus had never played so…rough before. It had been amazing, teaching him
from the subordinate position. The trust they’d developed, the perfect understanding and the
feeling of being cherished, had torn Apollo’s emotional barriers down to the ground. It had
only taken five days when, after a particularly mind-blowing session featuring bondage, hot
wax, and icicles, Apollo had said, “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you, Zeph. I live
for you… I’d die for you.”
Zephyrus had opened slumberous eyes. They’d both been sprawled naked, trying to
catch their breath. A small, adoring smile had touched his lips. “Go on,” he’d murmured.
It had taken Apollo a moment to grasp what Zephyrus meant. The sun god had said the
words in a miasma of languid satiation, not realizing -- at the top of his consciousness,
anyway -- that he’d voiced the first line of a soul-pledge, the most powerful of binding spells.
When he
had
realized what he’d said, Apollo hadn’t hesitated. Apparently, his subconscious
had been a tad more on the ball than he’d ever suspected, but yes, damn it, he’d
wanted
to be
bound to Zephyrus. Forever. “I offer you my soul, Zephyrus.” He’d whispered the
Forgive & Forget
95
deceptively simple words while cupping Zephyrus’s beautiful face between his palms. “My
heart and my life. Do you accept this gift?”
“I do.” Zephyrus’s eyes had filled and overflowed in one shattering second.
Apollo’s tears had swiftly followed.
“Apollo,” Zephyrus had said, his voice so husky with emotion that Apollo had had to
strain to understand him. His hands had trembled as they’d covered Apollo’s own. “I love
you. I live for you. I’d die for you. And so, I offer my soul to you. My heart and my life. Do
you accept this gift?”
“I do.”
There had been no life-altering shift in time and space. No thunderclap. No fireworks.
There had been no indication at all that powerful magic had just taken place. And yet,
Apollo remembered feeling peaceful and almost deliriously happy. “
Good
,” he’d thought,
pulling Zephyrus tight against him. “
This is good
.”
“
Damn right it is. You’re mine now, Apollo
.”
The sound of Zephyrus’s sensual voice whispering in his head had widened the already
huge grin on Apollo’s face. “
Forever
,” he’d thought in return, delighted at this proof of their
success. A soul-pledge only worked if both participants were truly, deeply…irrevocably in
love. Not that he’d had any doubts. “
I’ll be yours forever, Zephyrus. You’ll never manage to
get rid of me
.”
* * * * *
“You’ll never manage to get rid of me,” he repeated in the here and now.
“
Ah, but you were wrong, weren’t you? I did manage
--”
Even with the rush of memories -- that time in the lake, gods, that had been hot --
Apollo managed to open his eyes and focus on his lover. “
Never again
,” he thought, climbing
on top of Zephyrus. “
This time I won’t let anything come between us
.”
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His cock nestled between Zephyrus’s thighs, hard as iron from the erotic recollections
assailing him. Now, he was reliving a beautiful afternoon they’d spent fucking in an
untouched mountain meadow. Zephyrus had tormented him for hours before taking Apollo’s
oh-so-willing body. “Next time I want to fuck you,” Apollo had moaned, thrashing through
an overpowering climax, the first of dozens. “I want to be inside
you
.”
“We’ll see,” Zephyrus had said with a smile, playing the tiny silver blade over Apollo’s
pain-filled nipples. “We’ll see, baby.”
That’s what he’d always said, “We’ll see.” It had never happened. The wind god had
been too good at whipping -- literally -- Apollo into a mindless frenzy of lust. A frenzy that
could only be assuaged by the feel of Zephyrus’s perfect cock pounding into his body.
“It’s my turn,” he mumbled, lifting Zephyrus’s long, lean legs around his waist. A
dollop of virgin come lubricated his cock. Apollo hardly paid attention to the process of
getting Zephyrus ready. He was lost in the past.
Now, he remembered a whole evening spent making out -- just like modern day
teenagers parked on lover’s lane. Apollo had been too sore for anything more than kissing,
mild petting. But, by Zeus, having Zephyrus trembling with a restraint barely held in check,
having him sup on Apollo’s mouth like it was the finest thirteen-course meal…that had been
so sweet. In the wee hours of the morning, Apollo had come, just from the stimulation of
Zephyrus’s talented lips on his own. The wind god had quickly followed, weeping in
pleasure as he’d rocked against Apollo’s body.
“Just this once,” Zephyrus whispered. His hips rose in invitation. “You enjoy me being
in charge too much to let this happen more than once.”
Apollo’s breath hissed through his teeth. Zephyrus was warm and tight, a perfect fit.
He sank into his lover like a man coming home.
The memories started to dwindle.
It was the last day.
Forgive & Forget
97
He’d been lying in bed, watching his soul mate sleep. Just watching. He’d been
memorizing the angular curve of Zephyrus’s cheek, the silver sweep of his wings, barely
visible behind wide, silky-skinned shoulders. Apollo had considered fucking the slumbering
wind god awake, had known he could be inside that faultless body before Zephyrus even
knew what hit him. But no, he’d decided, reaching out to tuck a strand of pale green hair
behind Zephyrus’s pointed ear. Apollo enjoyed Zephyrus being in charge too much to do
that
. Better to wake the wind god with his newly learned cock-sucking skills, instead.
He’d grinned and shifted downward, tugging the sheet with him, intensely excited --
just like every other time he’d done this -- at the prospect of having Zephyrus’s gorgeous
cock in his mouth. He’d shut his eyes, savoring the anticipation.
Then…the image of a girl. A stunning girl with hair long and green just like…like
who? Well, like Zephyrus of course. Only this dazzling creature’s locks were darker. Moss
instead of pale, elegant sea-foam. Apollo had opened his eyes again and had glanced down,
shocked to find himself at nose-level with a fluff of that elegant, sea-foam green. Pretty, pale
pubic curls that had framed a half-hard cock so perfectly formed it had made Apollo’s mouth
water.
“By all the gods!” he’d gasped, scrambling off his sleeping friend. Apollo remembered
clapping his hand over his mouth in shock.
So drunk!
he’d thought.
We were so friggin’
drunk! Damn Dionysos for spiking those drinks! Now look what I’ve done
. Zephyrus was his
best friend. Apollo couldn’t afford to lose him to one night of drunken stupidity. It had
seemed kinda sad that he couldn’t really remember the evening before, though.
If this
is
going to ruin our friendship
, he remembered thinking,
it would sure be nice to at least
remember reaming the ass he’d lusted a ter for so long
.
f
The nymph had beckoned to Apollo from across the seas.
Hurry!
she’d seemed to say.
I
need you!
“Gotta go, Zeph,” he’d whispered, climbing from the bed. He’d been pretty sure their
friendship would be okay by the time he got back. Shit happened. Zephyrus knew that.
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Before he’d spirited himself away, Apollo had been seized by the almost irresistible
urge to haul Zephyrus into his arms and kiss him awake. Cut it out, asshole, he’d told
himself. Waking Zephyrus when he was bound to be hung over and embarrassed would be a
great way to make things even worse between them.
He had allowed himself the indulgence of leaning over to press his lips against the
wind god’s cheek, breathing deeply of his spring meadow scent. “I love you,” he’d whispered,
quite without intending to do so. Apollo had reared back and clapped not one, but both,
hands over his mouth.
What the fuck?
he’d thought, stunned. Where had
that
come from?
Damn Dionysos to Hades for feeding him that evil brew!
No time. No time
, the nymph had cried.
Come to me now!
With a puzzled shake of his head, Apollo had faded away, racing toward the woman he
just
knew
was meant to be the ultimate love of his life.
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Chapter Fourteen
Apollo had fallen still as the last of the memories washed over him. Zephyrus lay
quiescent below, sharing those final, heart-breaking seconds with his soul mate.
“That’s it, Apollo,” Clotho said, her normally humor-tinged voice sounding wistful and
subdued. “I’ll be in touch.”
“Okay,” he replied, looking down into Zephyrus’s sad green eyes.
“I’ve long wondered,” the wind god said, “how exactly that moment must have gone. I
woke up and you weren’t there.” His smile was more of a grimace. “At first I thought you’d
just popped out, that you’d be back soon. I knew you’d never leave me. You’d promised, after
all.” He sighed. “But then the hours stretched into days and --”
“I’m sorry, Zeph,” Apollo said, hugging Zephyrus tight. “Gods, I’m so sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Zephyrus mumbled into the skin of Apollo’s throat. “I know that
now.” His hips moved the tiniest amount, reminding Apollo of where his cock was. Zephyrus
wound his arms around Apollo’s neck and squeezed his thighs around Apollo’s waist.
Another hip roll, larger this time. Apollo groaned at the snug sensation. “Go on and fuck me,
baby,” Zephyrus said. A swaggering smile replaced the sorrow on his face. “Enjoy it, ’cause
you know darn well it ain’t happening again.”
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Apollo grinned, too, and said, “We’ll see.”
* * * * *
Zephyrus was having a good time. And so was Apollo. He was. But, no matter how
wonderful it felt, no matter how much Zephyrus panted and moaned below him, something
was wrong. Apollo couldn’t come. Oh, but Zephyrus could, and was…right…about…now…
“Fuck!” Zephyrus shouted. “Oh my fuck!”
That made Apollo laugh. “I
am
your fuck, Zephyrus. Forever and ever, amen.”
Zephyrus was too busy convulsing to come back with anything witty. As his thick
white seed shot over Apollo’s stomach, his nails raked thin red lines in Apollo’s back. “Ahhh,
yeah!” Apollo groaned, tossing the sweaty curls off his forehead. That’s the stuff.
Zephyrus was starting to calm, hyperventilating still, but no longer approximating a
rodeo bull on speed. “You didn’t come,” he observed. He stretched, a luxurious loll, and
tucked one hand behind his head. His other hand loosened the stranglehold he’d had on his
prick, now lazily pumping the flushed pink length.
Apollo was gratified to see that Zephyrus had remained hard for him. “Not yet,” he said
with a smile and a quickening of pace.
“Hmmm.” Zephyrus smiled back, but wickedness gleamed in that flash of teeth. He let
go of his cock to tangle a fist in the hair at Apollo’s nape. “Let’s see what we can do about
that.”
Apollo’s head was wrenched back until he viewed the room upside down. Shots of pain
from the cruelly yanked hair. Nice. Zephyrus’s teeth set to work on his nipples…also nice.
Okay, now we’re getting somewhere
, he thought, increasing the force of his thrusts even
more. The bed bounced with enthusiasm.
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101
Suddenly, an invisible hand was smacking Apollo’s ass cheeks. Really beating on them,
left, right, left. And, wow, that was way better than nice! “Zeph,” he moaned. “That’s so
great.”
“Yeah?” A throaty chuckle in between bites. “Then you’ll probably love this.”
Apollo’s eyes widened at the feel of an intimately familiar cock pushing its way into his
body. The fact that said cock was attached to the guy underneath him did nothing to alter
Apollo’s perception. Somehow, Zephyrus was managing to be the fucker
and
the fuckee.
That had to be up there with best tricks in the whole damn world.
The phantom prick surged forward, knocking Apollo’s hips forward as well, so that he,
in turn, slammed deep into Zephyrus’s body. The wind god let out a sexy moan, and the
sound spurred Apollo’s own pleasure.
Coming was no longer going to be a problem.
The spirit cock plundered with increasingly brutal strokes, the erotic clutch of
Zephyrus’s body became painful, and the smacks on Apollo’s ass turned to excruciating whip
strikes.
Apollo’s balls swelled but he fought the impending climax off with every fiber of his
being. This was just too glorious -- he never wanted it to end. “Gods!” Apollo gasped. “Gods,
Zeph, you’re amazing!”
“Back…atcha…” The wind god sounded as out of control as Apollo felt. The ghostly
accouterments grew inconsistent. A bloodletting slash of pain and then…for a very long
minute…nothing.
Despite the fist in his hair, Apollo brought his head forward and smirked to see
Zephyrus once again choking his own prick for all he was worth. He knocked Zephyrus’s
hand away. “Let me.”
Zephyrus’s shaft throbbed against Apollo’s palm. The wind god’s back arched. “If you
don’t come soon, Pol, I’ll kill you!”
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Apollo started to say that there would be no need for murder today, thanks, when the
cock in his ass disappeared. He groaned in disappointment, instead. But then, it was back,
only bigger. So much bigger. Another flurry of strikes. “Zephyrus!” he keened, burying
himself as deep as he could inside his lover’s body.
Every time Apollo made love with Zephyrus he swore it was the best ever. But
this
time it really was. The sun god’s arms locked straight as spasms of bliss jerked his body into
uncontrollable contortions. He knew he was wearing an idiotic expression -- wide-eyed,
widemouthed, utterly astonished -- but Zephyrus wasn’t in any condition to notice as he was
currently sporting a similar face, grunting Apollo’s name and pumping into his fist.
Only a thin spray of come drizzled out to decorate Apollo’s knuckles, unlike the raging
river
he
was spurting. The twisting and groaning Zephyrus reveled in, however, not to
mention the manic milking his ass was treating Apollo to, let the sun god know that his soul
mate was coming just as hard as him.
Eventually, it ended. It
had
to end. Even though they were immortal, Apollo knew that
such extreme rapture could not be withstood for very long without killing the recipients.
The triple-time thudding of their hearts, clearly felt where their chests were glued together
by sweat and semen, attested to that fact.
After an eternity spent drifting in the limbo of orgiastic overload Zephyrus said,
“Hermes will be here soon.”
Apollo groaned. “I can’t fuck anymore. Tell him to come back tomorrow.”
Zephyrus’s hands slipped down Apollo’s back to grab and squeeze his sore ass cheeks.
He chuckled when his lover’s half-hard cock twitched inside him. “I think you’re selling
yourself short, Pol. I bet you could go all night…with the right motivation.”
Apollo raised his head. Such a serious expenditure of energy. “Do tell,” he said, a smile
of anticipation on his lips.
“I’d prefer to show.”
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103
* * * * *
Hermes appeared promptly at twelve, naked except for the cock ring, and looking surly
as hell. He’d brought Lucas, also naked. Apollo was surprised to see the young Frenchman
again, but pleasantly so. The more the merrier, he always said.
“Hey, Hermy. Hi, Lucas.” Apollo grinned at the Os their mouths had formed. Even
upside down -- hell, especially upside down -- their expressions looked comically stunned.
“Why don’t you suit up and join me?” he invited, tossing his chin in the direction of the
mahogany chest where another body suit waited. “Zephyrus was just showing me the
benefits of decorating with Velcro.”
One entire wall had been covered in the stuff. Then Zephyrus had produced the
outfit -- black, spiky, and magically enhanced to hold a god. Strategic cutouts had insured
fun for all. So here the sun god was, helpless, hanging with his head pointed toward the
floor, arms and legs spread wide, while his lover thrashed his balls with Apollo’s favorite
knotted flogger.
Zephyrus had certainly called it…the right motivation had, indeed, worked wonders
on Apollo’s flagging libido. With a gesture, Zephyrus called in another suit for Lucas before
he raised the flogger again.
Even through the sexy hurt his lover was raining down on him, Apollo had to laugh at
how fast Hermes and Lucas leaped to the task of dressing each other up. They were both so
darn cute.
Apollo’s stomach clenched as another mind-bending orgasm tried to creep up on him.
The sun god held the climax at bay and turned his full attention back to Zephyrus, lifting his
head to take Zephyrus’s spit-shiny cock back into his mouth.
He’d made a bet, you see, that Zephyrus would come before Apollo did -- again. If he
won, Apollo got to tie Zephyrus up and have his way with him. An honor he hadn’t had, yet.
If he lost…well, that would be entertaining, too. Now that Hermes and Lucas had arrived, it
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was time to draw this contest to a close. Apollo copied Zephyrus’s phantom technique,
creating a long, wet tongue to probe the wind god’s ass.
Zephyrus gasped.
“Gods, baby, I love you!”
More tongues: on Zephyrus’s balls, nipples, throat and…toes. Yes, having his memories
back gave Apollo a distinct advantage, and Zephyrus’s toes were a weakness he wasn’t
ashamed to exploit.
“Oh…shit.” Zephyrus moaned.
Apollo’s skull rapped the fuzzy wall as grass-flavored come shot down his throat. The
sun god smiled around his mouthful. “
And I love you
.” He sucked Zephyrus dry before
letting that beautiful cock slip from between his lips. “Forever and ever,” he whispered
aloud, pressing a kiss to Zephyrus’s stomach.
“Amen,” was Zephyrus’s husky reply.
Apollo raised his eyes, just his eyes, as his mouth worshipped every inch of Zephyrus’s
skin he could reach. “Glad we’re agreed.” His teeth tested the ridge of Zephyrus’s hip. “
Now,
hurry up and get me down from here…lollipop, ’cause you’re about to join the boys on thi
lovely new wall of mine
.”
s
A. Steele
A. Steele, a.k.a Alisha Steele, lives in Ontario, Canada with two men, two boys, two
dogs, and a cat.
Check her out on the Web at http://alishasteele.com, or feel free to drop her an email
at: alisha@alishasteele.com
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