Dancing With Dionysus

Chapter Twelve

Aphrodite spent the first thirty minutes of her imprisonment so angry she could hardly see. She pulled, tugged, kicked and even tried to bite her way through the restraints.

She couldn't budge them.

When that failed, she considered sending a mental message to Cupid, her son.

There was nothing Dionysus could do to keep Cupid from rescuing her. But if she did that, it would all be over for Kalliara and Sabiniano. Not to mention the humiliation of trying to explain her situation. Being outsmarted by Dionysus wasn't exactly something she was proud of…

The next half-hour she weighed her options. She had agreed to do anything he asked, without putting any provisions on the deal. That was her first big mistake. She never should have trusted him to behave with the kind of implied decency she expected from other gods and goddesses.

But the deal was done, and she wouldn't let it be said she went back on her word.

Still, there were certain things she wouldn't allow, she decided. No mortals; no third parties at all. Not that she necessarily objected to sex with mortals. She simply didn't trust his judgment and taste. Zeus only knew what kind of monster he might come up with if she didn't make herself clear…

After an hour, resigned to her bargain with him, she grew bored. She stared at the ceiling, willing him to return. It had been centuries since she'd been forced to endure such solitude, such lack of entertainment in one form or another.

That's when she noticed the spider.

It was a small thing, unusually colored with pale spots. It wasn't all that large, and it seemed to be building a web in the drapes in the canopy over Dionysus' bed. She watched as it went back and forth, each strand placed with careful precision, until the spider suddenly stopped. She got the distinct impression that the little creature had noticed her.

Of course, such a thing was absurd.

But then the spider began lowering itself toward the bed on a thin strand of silk. Closer and closer it came, and to Aphrodite's horror, it appeared as if the thing was going to land on her gown.

She hadn't realized until that moment just how little she cared for spiders.

"Get away from me," she hissed, filled with sudden disgust. How dare this-thisinsect menace a goddess? "I command you to leave me!"

The spider paused, seeming to cock its little spider head at her words. Then it continued it journey, landing on her gown. It crawled slowly up her body, moving toward her face, and she screamed.

Within seconds, Dionysus strode into the room.

"Get it off me, get it off me!" she shrieked. "Kill it!"

He looked at her quizzically.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, apparently unconcerned by her distress.

"This damn spider, it's crawling all over me," she sputtered, all dignity lost. "Get it off of me and kill it right now."

"A spider?" he asked, and for the first time he seemed truly concerned. "Calm down, be still. Tell me where it is!"

She forced herself to hold still. She couldn't see it, but she felt it. It had crawled up her neck. Now the horrible little thing was sitting right on her cheek.

He reached over and carefully allowed the tiny creature to crawl on to his fingers. She moaned in relief, her head rolling back against the pillows.

Dionysus was silent. After a moment she grew curious, and turned to watch him.

He had lifted the spider up to his mouth and was whispering to it softly. The look on his face was almost tender; something she'd never seen before. What was going on here?

Then it was over. Dionysus raised his hand and deposited the spider back into the draperies.

"Aren't you going to kill it?" she asked, fascinated by his display of kindness.

"No," he said shortly. His face had taken on that smooth look of cultivated boredom she had some to expect from him.

"Why don't you at least move it away from the bed," she said quickly.

"It won't bother you again," he said, his expression impossible to read. "It lives up there, and I won't remove it from its home just for you. But enough about my spider. We have other business to address."

She watched him calculatingly, trying to fathom his motivations. He met her gaze coolly.

"I won't have sex with anything but you," she said quickly. "I want to make that clear before we start."

He looked amused.

"You must not trust me, dearest goddess," he whispered, leaning in close to her face. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I'm quite sure that you aren't adverse to a good orgy under the right circumstances…"

His hot breath tantalized her ear, and against her will she shivered. He was far too attractive for her peace of mind…

"These aren't the right circumstances," she replied, her voice taut with tension. "I like to choose my partners. I won't have them chosen for me."

"But you do choose me," he said, purring softly. He nipped at her ear with his teeth, and a frisson of pleasure zipped down her spine.

"I choose to save my children," she said.

"Ah, yes," he replied. "The brave martyr. Admit it, Aphrodite. You've always been attracted to me. I represent everything that you aren't; everything that you're secretly fascinated by."

It was hard to focus on his words. Even as he kissed her ear and neck, his fingers slid down the fabric of her gown. It was a wrap-around, bound only at the waist. Far too easily breached, she realized. Already his fingers were cupping her breast. When they fondled her nipple, she gasped.

"I prefer my sex to be bound with emotion," she said, trying to ignore the way he rolled the nipple between two fingers, then tugged gently at it. "I may not love all those I take to my bed, but I certainly care for them," she added on a gasp.

"And what do you feel for me?" he asked in a dulcet voice, bringing his lips around to the hollow of her throat. His tongue flicked out like a snake's, and she moaned.

"I feel disgust for you," she replied, almost incapable of speech. "The way you treat humans and immortals sickens me. You care nothing for them, only for your own perverse pleasures and destruction."

"So you hate me?" he asked. He nuzzled between her breasts, then kissed his way over to one, flicking at the nipple before sucking it into his mouth.

She twisted beneath him, unable to control herself. The feelings he brought out in her were far too strong.

"Yes," she muttered, trying to focus on anything but the feel of his mouth.

He raised his lips, and gave her a smile that could have melted a glacier.

"Hatred and love are very closely connected emotions, Aphrodite," he said mockingly. "I find myself enjoying your hatred very much indeed…"

With that, she closed her eyes, unable to look at him any longer. It was a mistake, forcing her to focus instead on the sensations he was building in her body. His lips moved to her other breast, and she could feel his hand brushing the inside of her knee. He slipped it between the fabric of her dress, and slowly worked its way up the soft skin of her inner thigh.

She squirmed, and sensation wound its way through her.[MT2] This was too much, it was moving so quickly. She usually preferred to spend leisurely hours with her lovers, getting to know them before abandoning herself to their touch. But Dionysus, while moving slowly, was attacking her body with a steady determination that made her feel weak and helpless.

Bastard.

She didn't realize she'd said the word aloud until he lifted his head and gave a mocking laugh. Her eyes snapped open again.

"Yes, I was a bastard," he said. "Zeus came to my mother and took her, much as I plan to take you. You'll scream just like she did before I'm done."

With that, he pressed his thumb against her clit, pushing it gently without moving it. She wiggled, wishing he would get on with it. She wanted to come, and knew instinctively that he was capable of bringing her to an incredible orgasm.

But to do it, he would have to press harder.

Instead, he simply left his thumb there, choosing to lave her breasts with his tongue instead. With every lick she grew more tense, more anxious. What the hell was he doing? Why wasn't he working to arouse her?

"Patience," he whispered. "Remember, if you get too excited you might beg me for release, and then you'll lose our little bet. You wouldn't want that, would you? Especially so early in the game…"

She bared her teeth at him, growling in hatred. He laughed again.

"That's what I like to see," he said. "A little enthusiasm…Now, where were we?"

She refused to answer, closing her eyes instead. It proved a mistake. He touched her lightly, caressing her over her gown. Her breasts were still exposed, but he ignored them. Instead, he brushed up and down her side, grazing the soft swells but never coming close to her nipples.

Then his hand was on her knee, rubbing softly. He trailed up and down her leg, allowing only the lightest of touches across the tops of her thighs. It was maddening. She could feel the tendrils of sensation growing, but he wasn't doing anything.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, he pulled her gown gently apart, and she felt a cool brush of air against her skin.

She waited for him to fall upon her. Of course, he had shown patience this long… But she knew he had to be aroused by the sight of her body. He had wanted her for centuries; she was love incarnate. No man or mortal had ever gazed upon her without wanting to take her. Dionysus was little more than a beast in so many ways. Against her will, she shivered. In the deepest corner of her mind, she admitted to herself that she might rather like being ravaged by a beast…

But his touch didn't come. She waited. Nothing. Finally, unable to control her curiosity, she opened her eyes. He watched her with wry amusement.

"You're lovely, Aphrodite," he drawled. "But hardly so beautiful I can't control myself."

She blushed, angry for allowing him to read her thoughts so easily. She should know better than to take anything for granted with him. He laughed again, then stood and walked around the bed. He went to a case against the wall, and slowly pulled open a drawer.

"What should I do to you?" he asked lightly. "I can't help but wonder if you've ever seen the darker side of love, Aphrodite."

"Lust," she replied tightly. "I believe you're referring to lust. Love doesn't have a dark side."

"I'd argue with that if I didn't have more important things to do right now,"

he said languidly. "But as it is, I'd rather spend my time playing with your body. It's so hard to decide what to do first…"

"Just get on with it," she said roughly. "These games are driving me crazy."

"Are you begging me?" he asked, his voice low and dark. "Because if you are, we've already finished with our little game, and I've won."

She turned away from him, closing her eyes again. No matter how she responded he would twist her words. She could hear him moving things around in the drawer. There was a heavy thud as he discarded something, then he moved across the room back toward the bed.

He climbed up onto it from the far side of her; she could feel it dipping under his weight. Then she felt the warmth of his body, and she turned her head back to him. As she opened her eyes, he dropped a black, silky cloth over them. She shrieked a protest as he blindfolded her, which he ignored completely. Then he spoke.

"If you don't shut up I may be forced to gag you," he said. "Of course, that would make it harder for you to beg me to make you come, but it might be worth it to stop this racket. You're a goddess. Show some dignity and act like it."

She quieted abruptly. Somehow he made her feel like an unruly child. His self-assurance was unnerving.

He rolled off the bed, and she heard more rustling. Was he removing his clothing? The mattress depressed beneath her again. He was back. Every inch of her body—splayed out before him—felt sensitized. When would he touch her, and where? He was showing far more subtlety than she'd ever realized he was capable of. It was disconcerting.

Then she felt it.

The slightest tickling sensation against her ankle. She kicked out at him, but it was gone. His laugh floated over her.

"Patience," he said in a dulcet voice.

She stilled. Everything she did was playing into his hands.

The tickling touch came again, this time along the outer side of her knee. It lingered there, then stroked over her leg to her inner thigh. Ever so slowly it moved up her leg, closer and closer to her waiting center. Despite herself, she shivered. The light touch played with her nerve endings, making her want to moan in protest. Or scream. She could feel the moisture building between her legs and knew he could see her arousal.

Disgusting.

Mesmerizing.

Then the touch was gone. A whimper escaped her mouth. It had been so close, her clit had been so ready for it, and now it was gone.

She didn't have long to wait, though.

The light touch—what was it, a feather?—had come back. This time in the valley between her breasts. It followed the curve along the bottom of her left breast, outlining the soft mound and defining its shape. Then it did the same to the right before moving down her stomach.

Both nipples were hard and tight. She could almost feel the feather against them, but it cruelly moved away They ached to be touched, still swollen from his suckling. The tingles raced from each tip toward her stomach, where the feather was dancing across the soft swell of her abdomen. She twisted slightly. It was too much. If he'd just touch her, ravage her body, she would be able to shut the sensations off.

Dionysus was far too devious for that, though. He was going to drive her mad.

Every touch made her quiver, and as he moved the feather lower toward her waiting clit, she moaned. Against her will, she raised her hips a little, offering her clit to his touch. When it arrived, she moaned again.

It was incredibly light, grazing her most sensitive flesh just enough to let her know it was there.

Just enough to make her want to scream.

He was doing it on purpose, the bastard. He knew what this had to feel like.

Each light touch made her quiver. Her hips thrust up once, twice, trying to find something harder. Each time there was nothing…Even the feather disappeared.

Then his tongue flicked across her nipple; every muscle in her body went tight. One of his fingers found her inner thigh, and he laved her breast for the second time that afternoon, his hands moving oh-so-slowly upward toward her wet opening.

After what seemed like hours, he reached her center. She wanted him to push his fingers inside, to press against her clit and make her scream.

Instead, he touched it lightly, then allowed one finger to probe her gently.

Her aroused, dripping cunt offered no resistance.

She whimpered, bucking her hips up and wordlessly begging him to do something about her need. She almost cried out, then bit her lip to stay silent.

He thrust another finger into her body, and then his head lifted from her breast. He lowered it to her clit, sucking the tiny nub into his mouth. She bit down on her lip harder, tasting blood.

His tongue flicked back and forth across her clit, moving fast and then slowing down. Within her body, his fingers probed until he found just the right spot. She shuddered, and he lifted his head.

"I suppose it isn't fair to let you have all the fun," he said, and she felt a surge of triumph. She might be close to going crazy, but he was hardly unaffected himself. She felt him shift on the bed. He knelt between her legs, his muscular thighs pressing hers apart. He lowered himself gently, and she felt the probing of his shaft at cunt. It was huge, hot. The head felt as if it might split her apart.

Magnificent.

Slowly, steadily he pushed into her. He braced himself over her, sparing her his weight, and she whimpered. What would his chest feel like against her nipples? Was his chest hair soft or wiry? She could imagine the steady flexing of his butt, and wished her hands could cup him as he came into her.

Instead, she simply lay there, waiting for him to fill her. He didn't disappoint her. The tip of his cock bumped against her cervix as he bottomed out, and she sighed in relief. He started moving, each thrust scraping her clit, each stroke filling her completely. Embers of arousal, sparked to life by his evil feather, grew. He moved faster: she whimpered in satisfaction.

Sensation washed over her, building each time he filled her. It was getting harder and harder not to respond openly. Then realization hit her. As long as she didn'task him to make her come, she could respond all she wanted.

There was no reason not to enjoy his "punishment." Dionysus, whatever his character flaws, was a magnificent man. And therewas love in her actions; love for Kalliara and Sabiniano. Things were going to be all right.

Allowing herself to let go, she raised her legs and braced them against the bed, thrusting up at him and matching his stroke. He gave a groan, moving faster.

Again and again he came into her. They were silent, their breath coming in gasps, sweat building on their bodies. Aphrodite grew hot from the effort. She was coming closer and closer to orgasm; each stroke against her clit sent the agonizing spiral of arousal just a little bit higher. So close!

Clenching her muscles, she thrust against him like a madwoman. He responded by suddenly grasping her hips and raising her body, even as he rose to his knees. This new position allowed him to pound into her relentlessly, a man possessed. She screamed.

Any second, and her pleasure would wash over her. Just a little bit more…

He abruptly pulled out of her, allowing her lower body to flop to the bed.

She twisted, frustrated and confused.

"What the hell is wrong with you," she gasped. "I'm so close. You have to keep going."

"Beg me," he said, his voice cold.

"No," she gasped, twisting in desire. She tried to clench her legs together, create some kind of friction to end this terrible ache, but his hands were on her ankles.

"Beg me," he said again, his voice a chilling whisper.

"I won't beg," she gritted out, squirming madly.

He reached between her legs, tweaking her clit sharply. It sent a shockwave of need through her, and she cried out. Just as quickly, his touch was gone.

"Beg me," he said a third time. "Or I'll leave you here like this. I'll wait until you've calmed down, and then I'll come back and do the same thing to you again. Over and over and over."

She moaned, and he slapped her hip sharply. The light pain raced through her, and she whimpered. Every nerve was on fire. Every muscle begged for release.

She could hardly breathe.

Then his finger tweaked her clit again. She broke, whimpering.

"Please," she cried. "You've got to have pity on me. Make me come. Please, damn you!"

He laughed, and then his lips were covering her clit. He sucked hard, fingering her cunt wildly, and she shattered into a thousand pieces. She screamed so loud they had to hear her all across Olympus. It didn't matter.

Nothing mattered except the way he made her feel.

Blessedly, the tension had broken. She lay there, shattered, for ten or fifteen minutes, trying to control the gasping sobs that overtook her with the climax.

He stood. She could hear him moving around the room. Then he was untying her bonds, and lifting the blindfold off. He stepped away, leaving her sprawled on the bed.

She opened her eyes slowly, trying to focus.

"I think that went very well," he said, his voice cool and calm. She turned her head, finding him seated halfway across the room. He lounged in a chair, slowly stroking his still-rampant cock.

"You've won," she whispered, sitting up and rubbing her sore wrists. "Aren't you at least going to finish it now? You haven't come yet."

"Oh, it is finished," he said, still stroking himself lazily. "I find that I've lost interest in our little tryst. I have other things to think about.

For example, I need to choose Sabiniano's punishment. And perhaps I'll supervise Kalliara's execution myself…"

Hatred washed over Aphrodite, and she stood on the bed. She wanted to kill him; she wanted to scream. How had she allowed this to happen? She had failed her children. At that moment, something caught the corner of her eye.

It was that damn spider.

She snatched it off its web, holding it tightly in her hand. Dionysus leapt to his feet, his face white.

"Let her go," he said, his voice tight with strain. She laughed.

"I don't know why the hell you care about this creature," she hissed at him.

"But you've hurt my children, and don't like that very much. Bastard. I'm going to kill it. I'm going to squash your stupid spider between my fingers, and wipe its little body right here on your bed. I'm going to enjoy every second of it."

"No," he said, holding up one hand. He started toward her, but she raised her arm.

"Stop, or I'll do it right now," she said. "You can't get over here fast enough to stop me."

He stood there, his face filling with despair. Inspiration struck her.

"How much do you care about this spider?" she asked, her voice as cold and mocking as his had been earlier. "Do you care about it enough to bargain with me?"

He watched her; a muscle in his temple twitched. She crowed in delight.

"You do care enough to bargain," she said in triumph. "You care about a damn spider, don't you? Well, it's going to cost you."

"Let her go and we can talk," he said tightly. His eyes were filled with fury, but they were filled with fear, too. Aphrodite felt a surge of pleasure so strong it was almost sexual.

"You'll give Sabiniano and Kalliara to me," she said. "You'll give them to me, no strings attached, and I'll let your little spider go."

He nodded tightly.

"Give her to me now," he said. "And I'll let you have them."

"I don't trust you," she replied. "I think I'll just take this thing with me.

When Sabiniano and Kalliara are safely off Naxos and in my care, you'll get her back."

"You can't do that," he said, his voice filling with anguish. "She's very fragile. You could easily hurt her. She needs special food. I can't let her leave my temple."

Aphrodite laughed again, beginning to enjoy herself. How ridiculously amusing, that the mighty Dionysus might be brought low by a spider.

"You should have thought of that before you tried to take my children," she said lightly. Carefully cupping the spider in two hands, she jumped off the bed, still nude. She strode across the room, then nodded purposefully at the door.

"Why don't you open if for me, Dionysus?" she asked politely. "I think it's time for me to go home. You can keep the gown. I no longer associate it with fond memories."

He did as she said, then stood to one side, clenching his fists. She felt a momentary qualm; she was making a powerful enemy. The spider ran around the inside of her cupped hands. Disgusting creature, she thought, shivering.

But she didn't drop it, though the temptation was strong.

Instead, she walked through the temple, ignoring the stunned faces of Dionysus' priests.

It was time to go home, and arrange for a boat to go to Naxos.

Kalliara and Sabiniano were about to start a new life.