Part 25 (1/2)
”Thank G.o.ddess G.o.ddess,” she corrected, and sank down onto him.
An animal groan tore from him. He became all sensation. The tight clench of her p.u.s.s.y surrounding him. The drip of her juices as she slid up and down, his hands on her waist, her, bracing herself above him. The muscles of her legs, grown stronger and leaner in the past week. The sway of her flushed b.r.e.a.s.t.s with her movements. Her gasps as she rode him, her head tipped back with her hair streaming around her shoulders, grinding her hips against his so they were as tightly fitted against one another as anyone could ever hope to be, two interlocking pieces meant only for each other.
She drenched him. She had no mercy, for him or herself. Her need was feverish. She impaled herself, again and again, until she stretched herself taut and cried out, clenching around him.
No sooner had she reached her climax, then Bennett moved with an inhuman speed and strength, fueled by colossal desire. He positioned them so that she stood on the ground, facing the altar, her hands braced upon it, and his hands on her hips as he stood behind her. He pressed her down so that her febrile body contacted the cool stone, the sensation making her cry out again, then he thrust into her.
Low, guttural sounds clawed up from him as he took her, wors.h.i.+pped her, his mind shut down entirely. She pushed herself back into his thrusts, the softness of her b.u.t.tocks under his hands. And when one of her hands slid from the altar to rub at her c.l.i.t, first with trepidation and then with growing confidence, her fingers also brus.h.i.+ng his c.o.c.k, whatever tenuous threads of control he might have still possessed snapped. He came with a shout, heat pouring through him as he gave himself up utterly to her, to how she made him feel. Her own o.r.g.a.s.m followed quickly.
His legs shook as he held her tightly, chest pressed to her damp back. Their breathing came in labored gasps. He nuzzled her hair, licked the sweet curve of her neck, inhaled her scent. He reached up and turned her head to the side, then he kissed her, mouth open, and she kissed him back in kind. Everything was open to each other, nothing held back. She overwhelmed and humbled and delighted him.
He gasped, between kisses, ”I love you.”
London's heart leapt to hear his words. Then she remembered. Bennett's definition of love and her own were very different. When he said, ”I love you,” to her, it meant, ”I like you very, very much.” Gratifying, but not entirely the same effect on a person's soul.
Yet it was more than she had ever received from anyone, from any man, and she accepted Bennett's declaration for what it truly was, without regret. She would receive his love, in whatever form it took, for as long as it was offered.
As for her own heart...she had to protect it. At some point, she and Bennett would part. She had to be ready for that day, make sure it did not devastate her. But she was growing stronger every day. Surely she could withstand it when the pa.s.sion cooled between her and Bennett and they separated, perhaps to meet again only as friends.
”Is the G.o.ddess appeased?” She felt the vibrations of his voice through her body as he curved around her. ”Or does she demand more?” He pressed his hips against her bottom, and she could already feel him firming, despite his intense climax moments earlier. Incredible.
”It seems the supplicant is not satisfied,” she murmured, wriggling against him.
”I'm a deeply holy man. However many times I need to perform the ritual, I'll gladly do it.” He punctuated this statement with a light thrust against her. He was almost fully hard.
Immediately, she wanted him again. But she knew it wasn't to be. She sighed. ”Much as I wish to stay here and wors.h.i.+p all night, we need to get back to the beach. We have to be up at dawn to watch the sunrise.”
”I didn't do a proper job,” he mumbled against her neck, ”if you're thinking so coherently.”
She didn't feel coherent. She felt unmoored, floating, cast adrift on the desire and need between them.
Still, they disentangled from one another, he helping her up from where she sprawled against the altar. Slowly, languorously, they dressed, pausing every now and then to kiss and caress and murmur meaningless words of sated appreciation. He deftly performed the task of ladies' maid admirably, hooking her back into her dress with agile fingers in the growing darkness.
Once they were both dressed and shod, Bennett gathering his jacket from where he'd thrown it, he drew her back into his arms and kissed her sweetly. His smile was warm honey that covered and filled her. ”Such a bold creature you've become. A demanding G.o.ddess.”
”I never thought to rise to the heights of a deity.”
”But you have. You are. Divine. London, l.u.s.ty G.o.ddess of the consecrated spring.”
She tilted her head back, closing her eyes. ”Mm, that has a pleasant sound to it.”
”Not as pleasant as your moans of pleasure.”
Opening her eyes, she smiled. ”You're very good at performing the sacred rituals.”
”I live to serve my G.o.ddess.”
She looked at Bennett, his sculpted face of pristine masculine beauty, his eyes heavy lidded with repletion, gazing down at her as if she was something both precious and powerful. Only with him could she have dared to act as brazenly as she had, revealing her most private self, trusting him not to laugh or be shocked or judge. An extraordinary man.
She felt herself sliding toward danger. But she let herself go, fall into it, because it was better than shutting herself away in a protective cage as she had for so much of her life.
”Your devotion will see you handsomely rewarded,” she said, then stifled a yawn. ”And now the G.o.ddess is so sleepy, she can barely walk.”
”Easily remedied.”
He swung her up in his arms as if she weighed no more than a bird. She felt as though she ought to protest that she was perfectly capable of walking on her own, which she was, but a heavy, delightful la.s.situde had woven itself throughout her limbs. So she looped her arms around his neck and rested her head on his shoulder as he strode back through the forest. He felt solid with muscle, utterly capable, and smelled of wind and sea and man.
”Wake up, love,” Bennett murmured, rubbing his mouth over the crown of her head.
London stirred, her eyes drifting open. They were at the beach. The shapes of Kallas and Athena moved about on the deck of the caique, anch.o.r.ed a small distance out. Lights from the boat cast s.h.i.+ning reflections in the gentle surf. Night had fallen.
”Wasn't asleep,” she mumbled.
He laughed. ”I won't contradict a G.o.ddess.”
Moments later, they were back aboard the caique, with London standing on her own feet. She had awakened enough to observe Athena and Kallas arguing-this time about whether olives were better grown on the mainland or the islands-but she was able to see a more contemplative look cross the witch's face whenever Kallas had turned away.
”I think relations may be thawing,” she softly noted to Bennett, when Kallas and Athena were out of earshot.
He paused in his task of bringing up several blankets and pillows from below, glancing back and forth between the captain and Athena. A smile quirked Bennett's lips. ”Thank G.o.d for that,” he answered quietly. ”I think our esteemed captain is on the verge of tearing down the masts with his bare hands.”
Yet the captain was not going to have a reprieve any time within the next few hours. Athena took notice of the pallet Bennett was preparing on deck, a pallet large enough to accommodate two.
”Am I to have the bunk all to myself tonight?” she asked.
Despite everything she and Bennett had done together, including wildly make love in a ruined temple, a small blush crept into London's cheeks as she nodded. Spend the whole night with Bennett! True, they would be on deck, entirely exposed, but to have him beside her for the entire night, even if they only slept, was a treat she readily antic.i.p.ated.
He seemed to be looking forward to it, as well, judging by the grin he didn't bother hiding, the scoundrel.
London snuck a quick peek at Kallas, and saw the brief look of hope that flashed over the captain's weathered face. Then Athena bade them all good night and went down to her cabin. The sound of her locking the cabin door was faint, but it reverberated throughout the boat.
Without speaking, Kallas extinguished the lamps around the s.h.i.+p, stomped down to his cabin and slammed the door.
London turned to Bennett with a grimace. ”Perhaps I spoke too quickly.”
”The steps to Athena's dance are deuced complicated, but I think she's chosen her partner.” Bennett shrugged. ”For this set, anyway.”
London could only shake her head at the continual mystery of men and women. Yet thoughts of the witch and the captain fled as Bennett finished preparing their bed and waved a welcoming hand toward it.
”Will this please the G.o.ddess?”
With a drowsy laugh, London said, ”The G.o.ddess is so tired, she could sleep in a cast-iron bathing tub.”
”I think you'll find this more comfortable. And the company better than a sponge.”