By LoreliLee
Warnings:
Disclaimers:
Kalea woke up and stretched luxuriously. She looked at her growing belly and smiled. It’s good to be Queen, she thought.
She rolled over on the soft feather bed to gaze at her companion. To her surprise, he appeared to be asleep. It was rare to see the God of War sleeping. From what she had gathered in their short acquaintance, he didn’t truly need to, but occasionally he enjoyed the respite.
Asleep, from the neck up, he looked like an innocent little boy. Thick black eyelashes covered dangerous dark eyes, black hair curled sweetly around an angelic face, which in repose, bore little resemblance to the violent and nasty god he was. From the neck down, he was, well, a god. Perfectly formed in every way from the powerful muscles in his arms and chest, to the lean hard belly, to the large and delightful "sword" in between his legs. Just perfect.
She smiled as she remember their first meeting five moon-cycles ago. Her Queen had died in battle and there had been no clear line of succession. Artemis, Goddess of the Hunt and patron of their tribe, had chosen Oriana as her favorite, but Kalea challenged her. She had bested Oriana in ritual one-on-one battle, first with staff and then with sword. But Oriana would not yield the crown and she had been forced to kill her.
The tribe grudgingly accepted her as their new Queen, but her youth was held against her. Only eighteen seasons was not deemed quite enough by some of the older warriors. Since she was not an acolyte of Artemis as was at least half the tribe, the Goddess also was not enthusiastic about her leadership. She knew she needed an extra edge to keep the throne. It was then she thought of the God of War. Without telling anyone where she was going, she left the Village near Parnasis and journeyed to Ares temple in Thrace.
When she entered the temple, the size of it and the richness of the furnishings struck her. She was surprised to discover the God of War was in residence. She asked to see him and the priest told her she would have to wait.
"Do you have an offering?" he asked. The priest had a haughty manner and was dressed in rich silks.
She shook her head. It had not occurred to her to bring one. She assumed being Amazon, descended however indirectly from Ares himself, would be enough. Finally, after several frustrating hours of waiting in an anteroom filled with peasants, soldiers and others, the priest ushered her into the God of War’s presence.
She walked into the throne room with squared shoulders and thrust out chest. She refused to show weakness or fear before anything male, be he mortal or God. She strolled toward the large throne and the God sitting there as if this were an everyday occurrence. The aisle she walked down was packed on both sides with soldiers, petitioners, and sycophants. She could hear the whistles, the whispering, and feel the lust she was evoking.
She had dressed deliberately in her warrior garb; short suede skirt, brass breastplate covering a soft suede jerkin, her long red hair plaited around her head, her bow and sword at her back. On her arms, she wore the silver bands of Queenship and around her neck, the dragon’s tooth necklace that had belonged to her mother’s mother. She knew she looked terrifying and beautiful. Good, she thought, if his warriors feel it, he should too.
She stood before the throne of the God of War. She waited for the priest to announce her. "Lord Ares," the priest said, "Kalea of Parnasis."
The God of War turned toward her, scowling. He did not like women petitioners. Then he saw her and his expression changed. His dark eyes raked her form appreciatively. "And what have we here? An Amazon?"
"An Amazon Queen," she replied tartly. "Your priest forgot to mention that."
"An Amazon Queen?" he repeated, lifting his eyebrows. Slowly he stroked his goatee and asked, "And what can I do for you Queen Kalea?"
"You can help me keep my throne," she said seriously.
"And why would I wish to do that?" he asked with amusement.
"Why wouldn’t you?" she retorted.
He laughed. "What do you want from me?"
Kalea looked around the room. She had no wish to share her business with the many that were gathered there. "My lord," she said, "this matter would best be discussed privately."
Ares eyed her speculatively. "And what is so private about it?"
"Your reputation among the Amazons is legendary," she said as she licked her lips. "My sisters have informed me of the help you have given them over the years and the many wishes you have fulfilled for them."
He got it then. "I understand. Jasoc, please show Queen Kalea to a room. I will meet with her there, after I am done here. And Jasoc, please make sure the bed has clean sheets, this could take all night."
Kalea, even now, could remember how impatiently she waited for him to come to her. She had never seen anyone, man or God as beautiful as he. Sitting lazily on his throne, his leather pants stretched tight over his powerful thighs, his long black vest covering his waist and the treasure she was sure was beneath. His chest was massive, covered thickly with dark hair. His arms were huge, powerful, every muscle clearly defined, promising strength and force. His face, strong, angelic, eyes so dark you could drown in them. And his mouth, she had never seen lips that were so sensual, even surrounded as they were by his mustache and goatee. Everything about him was overwhelmingly male and incredibly erotic.
She paced the small bedroom for what seemed an eternity. The longer she waited, the more she wanted him. She undid the plaits of her hair, letting it hang long and loose to her waist and removed her breastplate. Finally there was a soft knock at the door and then he came swaggering in, carrying a bottle and two goblets.
He smiled seductively at the Amazon waiting for him. Not only was she beautiful, but he had already heard about her takeover of the Parnasis tribe. A fierce warrior, young but deadly. She had wrested control away from Artemis’ favorite, a more experienced and older Amazon, killing her in the process. This one interested him very much. If she had not come to him, he would have sought her out. Especially since he knew she was not vowed to Artemis and that Artemis didn’t like her.
"So Queen Kalea," he said as he poured the wine, "what is this private matter you wish to discuss?"
"You mean your powers don’t extend to mind reading?" she asked flirtatiously.
He handed her a glass of wine and gestured for her to sit. The only place was on the bed. "I almost never find it necessary to read minds," he replied as he picked up his goblet. "Mortals only generally come to me, wanting one of two things."
"And what would that be?" She asked as she settled herself on the edge of the bed.
"You’re Queen, surely you know?" He inquired with a slow grin.
"To make war or to stop war?" She answered with a slow grin of her own.
He sat down next to her on the bed and touched her goblet with his own in salute. "Very good," he said. "You’re from Parnasis?"
She nodded. "Yes, I am descended, rather indirectly from your daughter Hippolyte. I believe she was my great-great grandmother once or twice removed."
"You needn’t concern yourself with genealogy," he replied. "We Gods hardly consider things like incest in quite the same way you mortals do. If it wasn’t for the things that happen when mortal relations interbreed, I doubt very much whether even mortals would care."
He isn’t going to make this easy, she thought. Well, if I want it, I’m going to have to ask. "Lord Ares," she said slowly, "I do have a request."
"I imagined as much," he said, again raising his eyebrows at her. "There’s very few things an Amazon could want from the God of War and given there is no trouble at present in Parnasis . . . "
She took a deep breath and said, "I wish to fortify my position as Queen. The tribe is full of strong, very volatile personalities. At present, I am the strongest and so far have managed to prove it. However, if I had a child, an heir, one from the God of War, no one would dare to challenge me."
"There is a flaw in that reasoning," he pointed out. "Once you are big with child, you could very easily be killed."
"No one would dare to touch me. If it was your child," she replied. She looked him straight in the eyes, "I propose a bargain."
He looked amused. "What kind of bargain?"
Her deep blue eyes opened very wide as she said, "You help me make a child and I will owe you a favor."
"Owe me a favor?" He repeated with a sarcastic laugh. "I do not do business that way. If you wish something from me, as you do, then you will have to give me something in return."
"What would you like?" She asked. She began to unlace her jerkin.
He reached out a hand to stop her. "While I would certainly like that, there is something else I want."
She studied his face. She could detect his lust and interest, but otherwise his eyes were unreadable. Still, if she wanted something from him, she must be prepared to pay the price. "You have but to ask, if it’s within my power to grant then I shall."
He stared into her eyes. She seemed serious, but would she really give him anything? "That is a dangerous statement to make to the God of War."
Her stare was unflinching. "I can be a very dangerous woman," she replied. "And I always keep my word."
"Good," he said softly. "What I want in return for the child is this: your loyalty and that of your tribe. In the future, I would like some to serve me instead of Artemis. I realize," he added as her eyes grew concerned, "that Artemis will not like it, but she cannot stop it. And you do not need to worry I would expect you to lead your tribe in battle on my orders. I have found Amazons very useful on occasion and would like to have some available to call on should the need arise."
"You would not expect them to leave the village unprotected?" He shook his head. "You would simply borrow those who were willing to serve?" He nodded. "You would not force service, they would be free to choose?" Again, he nodded. "We have always served either Artemis or no one. At eighteen one makes a choice of either service or not."
"My request," he said slowly, "my favor, if you will, is to simply offer the option of serving me. They can stay with the tribe and come when I need them or if they wish they might serve in my temples or as warriors in my armies. It would be their choice." He paused and added, "Although you may not think it, I can be a very good friend to have."
Kalea thought about this for a moment. Though half the tribe served and worshipped Artemis, many disliked the vow of chastity involved. If they were now free to serve the God of War, they would be free to experience all life had to offer. And with the possibility of more children to be born, the tribe could grow. "Done," she said. "Shall we shake on it?"
"I have a better idea," he said as he took the wine from her hand. With a thought, Ares made the goblet vanish. She was sure her clothes would be next, but she was wrong. The God of War gently took her face in his hands and began to kiss her.
The kiss seemed to go on forever. It was soft, warm, tender, like a first kiss. Her body responded immediately, arching toward his. She put her arms around his neck. He kept kissing her, softly, so softly, that it began to seem as if the only place she could feel anything was her mouth. The sensation was overwhelming. She tried to move closer to him, to increase the pressure of the kiss. She opened her lips to him, wanting to feel his tongue.
He resisted the enticement, his lips remained firmly closed, his hands, keeping her almost at arm’s length. She flicked her tongue out, tracing his lips. Instead of responding in kind, he merely stopped kissing her. She looked at him in astonishment. "My lord?" She asked.
He gave her a slow seductive smile and said, "I do not believe in rushing things. And certainly not something as important as creating an heir for your tribe. You must learn patience."
She wanted him so badly she could hardly stand it. She could tell he was aroused, his manhood was straining against the leather laces of his pants. Still, if he could stand it, than she would have to. "Yes my lord," she said, her eyes downcast.
He tilted her face back to his, traced the outline of her lips with his index finger, and then began to kiss her again. Once again, the kiss seemed to go on forever. She did not make the same mistake, leaving her lips closed to his, until she felt the tiniest pressure from him to open them. This she did eagerly. His tongue snaked out, traced her lips lightly, and then disappeared. She moaned softly. Another eternity of soft kisses and his tongue came out and traced her lips even longer. She moaned again. Now he did flick his tongue into her mouth, leaving his open for her own. She tried to control her hunger, but she wanted him so desperately, it was difficult. She arched toward him, pressing her breasts against his chest. Her hands were in his hair, trying to bring his face, his mouth even closer to her.
He allowed her to kiss him harder, removing his hands from her face, to trace the line of her jaw. He ran his fingers down her torso lightly. She pressed her breasts hard against his chest, rubbing her nipples against his. He deepened the kiss, letting his tongue trace the inside of her mouth, trace her tongue, and trace her lips. She moaned against him, her breathing coming in quick spurts.
Suddenly he took her face back in his hands and pulled his mouth away from her. Her eyes were glazed with passion. He stroked the side of her face and then began in the slowest possible manner to unlace her jerkin. She made as if to help him, but he shook his head. She tried to reach for his vest, his pants, to touch something, but he moved her hands away. "Patience, little one," he said softly.
She sighed with frustration. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he had untied her jerkin. It hung loosely over her breasts. He reached underneath the soft material and grasped her about the waist. He pulled her onto his lap, setting her on his hard manhood. She moaned at the contact, even through clothes. He could feel that she was already moist with wanting him. He pulled her against him even tighter, knowing the soft material of her jerkin would continue to rub against her nipples. Then he kissed her again. Her whole body jerked and she pulled her mouth from his.
"Do you want me to beg?" She asked. "Because if that’s what you’re waiting for, I’ll be happy to."
He laughed wickedly. "It won’t do you any good. This time. I promise little one, if you will just exhibit a little more patience, you will be pleased."
"I should live so long," she retorted. "Ares, can’t you tell you’re driving me insane with desire?"
His response was to take her fingers into his mouth, to gently suck and nibble them. As he sucked each of her fingers, licking the tip, she felt the sensation deep inside her, as if his tongue were inside her. She moaned and tried to rub herself against him. He held her hips down so she couldn’t move.
Once again he kissed her softly and slowly until she thought the burning sensations in her body would drive her mad. Then suddenly, the fire roaring through her decreased in intensity. What had been a raging cry of need had settled to a slow steady hum of ecstasy. She relaxed and kissed him back, now willing to be patient.
He recognized the change in her and immediately stopped kissing her. Now he slowly, so slowly, pushed the jerkin off her shoulders. Stopping every few inches or so to kiss the area the cloth had been touching. By the time the jerkin was completely off, her nipples were hard and she was moaning his name. She reached for his vest to unlace it and this time he did not stop her. With trembling fingers, she undid the two ties that held his vest together.
He allowed her to slip her arms around his waist and to press her bare flesh against his. She moaned at the contact. His chest was lean, hard, massive, and covered with thick dark hair. It tickled her skin in a wonderfully sensuous way. Slowly, oh so slowly, she began to push his vest off his shoulders. Stopping, just as he had, to kiss the area where the vest had been. She could feel his manhood throb beneath her. She bent her head to kiss his neck. When he didn’t stop her, she moved farther down his chest, to tickle his nipples with her tongue. This elicited the first moan she had heard from him.
"Enough," he said. He lifted her face from his chest and bent his head to her breasts. She thought she would explode the moment his hot mouth took her nipple in. He licked and sucked it gently, then began to increase the pressure. She was squirming on his lap, trying to rub herself against him. When he went to grab her hips to try to still her motion, she was ready for him. She twisted away and wrapped her legs around his neck.
"I can break your neck this way," she said breathlessly.
"I’m a God," he replied with amusement. "You can’t hurt me, but you have given me a more interesting target to play with." Her buttocks were still on his lap, but now, with her legs around his neck, he could see right up her skirt. She was streaming liquid. He reached for the tie that held her skirt together and in a second, she was wearing nothing. He bent his head and began to kiss the inside of her thighs. Before she could try to switch positions again, he again had her hips in his hands.
His beard tickled the insides of her thighs; his tongue and mouth were moving ever closer towards her opening. She felt his soft breath blow on her mound and she twitched. He did it again. She reached out for him, to pull his head closer and he laughed. Then he moved forward and gently began to lick her. Her scream of pleasure was so loud; the entire temple heard it. Ares laughed, his tongue deep inside her, tracing her sweet spot over and over again.
She began to orgasm in spasms of pleasure so intense and strong she thought they would never stop. Just as they seemed to end, he would begin to lick her again and again she would scream. Finally, when she thought it would be impossible to feel any more pleasure, he sucked her bud one last time. Her entire body began to shake and tremble, she couldn’t catch her breath, and she thought she would pass out.
She felt him lift her up and place her on his throbbing manhood. He must have made his pants disappear, she thought. He slid all the way up into her in an instant. He began to move her up and down in a rhythm of his own. She rode him happily, the feel of him inside her, after all the foreplay, was even sweeter than his tongue had been. Within seconds, she was feeling the onset of yet another orgasm. Soon he was thrusting faster, harder, and then, just when she thought it was impossible, she had another earth-shattering orgasm, screaming his name, feeling as if this time she would pass out for sure. Her contractions made him move even faster and soon he was shooting his seed deeply inside her. She knew then, he had given her the child.
She sighed with contentment, memories sweet. Should she wake him? He made a little moaning sound as he rolled on his side. He stirred restlessly in his sleep, twisted, struck out with his arms as if to ward off a blow, then made a noise that sounded remarkably like no, and his body twisted into some kind of spasm.
Can a God have a nightmare? Do I dare to wake him? Gently, with tentative fingers, she touched his forehead. She stroked the dark curls on his now sweating brow. He stirred again and his eyes opened.
For a moment he looked angry, then surprised, then finally, he gave her that slow wicked seductive grin she loved. "Good morning," he said.
"Afternoon actually," she replied.
He saw on her face something had happened, something that bothered her. "What is it?" He asked.
"You were asleep," she replied. "You seemed to be having what we mortals call a nightmare."
For a moment his face turned dark, the dream was still with him, the nightmare. The nightmare that had been a vision of the future. He knew from the Fates there was no stopping it, it would happen no matter what he did now. The deed was done and the consequences would be the consequences. It was not her fault. He forced himself to smile at her. Instead of answering, he reached for her.
She went into his arms happily. He pulled her against him, careful to make sure not to put too much pressure on her belly. He kissed her gently, his lips applying just the lightest of pressure until she thought she would go crazy, wanting to feel them more strongly. She pressed her mouth harder to his, her hands reaching down to stroke his back. He kissed her harder then, flicking his tongue into her mouth. She moaned softly. Despite the number of times they had done this dance, each time it was different. Their kisses seemed to go on forever, seemed to last until one of them had to have more, usually her. She pressed herself against him, kissed his lips one last time, and then began to nuzzle his ear.
Ares kissed her neck, her throat then trailed hot kisses over her down towards her body. She moaned as his soft lips and tongue kissed and caressed her. He shifted his body, so she lay beneath him, his weight above her, rather than on her.
His hands began to caress her breasts. She moaned again, softly. He gently rubbed first one nipple, then the other. Then he replaced his fingers with his mouth. His mouth was like a burning fire on her skin. His lips rubbing softly against her nipples, his beard tickling them, sent a shock wave of sensation through her. Her hands were reaching for him, but all she managed to get was his hair. She ran her fingers through his curls.
He reached down and caressed her fur-covered mound. His finger quickly found her sweet spot. She was already wet and ready for him. He stroked her bud slowly, watching her body jerk as if on strings. He smiled and increased the pressure and speed of his fingers slightly and bent his head to again lick and suck a nipple. Soon she was writhing and moaning, her pelvis pushing insistently against his hand. Quickly he inserted two fingers between the lips of her opening and now she pushed harder, her hands again, trying without success to reach some part of him. He felt her bud harden beneath his questing fingers and then with a shudder she came, shouting his name.
He removed his fingers and slipped his manhood inside her. She tried to wrap her legs around him, but he shifted so she couldn’t. Instead, he straddled her in such a way, she could watch as he moved in and out of her.
He stroked her, keeping the tempo slow, wanting to prolog the sweet agony for both of them. He reached down to again caress her sweet spot. Soon she was bucking, writhing in ecstasy, looking for release. She pushed at him, begging with her body, if not with her words for him to move faster, push harder. Now he did speed up, glided faster and harder, corkscrewing his hips, moving in a circular motion as well as in and out.
She called his name repeatedly as an even bigger orgasm took her. She squeezed him so tight that with only a few more powerful thrusts, he too found release. With a guttural growl, he shot his seed deep inside her.
She lay contented in his arms, warmed by their lovemaking. She patted her growing belly and said, "Pretty soon we won’t be able to do this anymore."
"It will be a shame," he said with true regret. "I shall miss you."
This surprised her. Though she cared greatly for the God of War, she had no illusions about his feelings. "Ares," she said slowly, "I know the bargain was for the child, but we long ago conceived it. Still you stayed. I see no reason not to resume relations after the child is born."
He laughed. "That’s what I love about you Amazons. Unlike most mortal women, you do not let love get in the way of sex."
Now she laughed. "Very true, at least for this Amazon. When it comes to a God like you, that’s probably a distinct advantage."
"When is the child due?" He asked.
"About four more moon-cycles," she replied thoughtfully. "So we can still play for a while."
He laughed wickedly. "Kalea, they were right to crown you Queen. I have never met a lustier or more voracious Amazon than you." He shifted position and stroked her belly for a moment.
"Ouch," she said.
"Did I hurt you?" He released her from his arms and moved away. He did not have much experience with pregnant women. Generally, he stayed away from them once they were with child. But there was something about this one . . . Even though he’d made the deal with her to annoy Artemis, as well as build a new power base within the Amazon community, he had grown to like and respect her. And sex with her was always pleasurable. Every time he swore he wouldn’t come back, within days he was back again for more.
"No," she said with a laugh. "The baby just kicked me. Want to feel?"
"No," he said quickly. "Are you sure it’s all right for us to still?"
She laughed again, "Don’t be an idiot! Do you think I would do anything to harm my child? Especially this one?"
"Well in that case," he replied, "come closer."
Kalea looked at the baby sleeping in her arms. Sienna was a lovely child, dark curly hair like her father and deep blue eyes like her mother. She glanced at the bed, Ares was asleep. I wonder, she thought, why he’s back. He can’t possibly have missed me, not with all the willing women in this tribe. Much to her amusement, during the later stages of her pregnancy the God of War had cut quite a swath through her tribe. Nearly every Amazon not vowed to Artemis had been given a taste of his "sword" training.
Sienna woke and began to yell lustily. Kalea quickly silenced her by putting her hungry young mouth to a nipple. She even suckles like her father, Kalea thought.
"I don’t suppose I could have the other one?" He asked lazily from the bed.
"Not right now," Kalea replied. "But if you can wait until she’s finished?"
He laughed and rolled over. Kalea rocked her daughter while she fed her, enjoying the sight of Ares naked. Really, no one, man, or God should be allowed to look that good, she thought. Broad shoulders, long tapered back lightly covered with hair, curved in waist, firm buttocks and strong long legs. He looks nearly as good from the back, as he does from the front, she thought. She could feel herself wanting him again.
She switched Sienna to the other nipple and the child gave a small contented snort. The God of War rolled over and caught her staring. Apparently, he found the sight of her, feeding the baby, nearly as appetizing as she found him, for his manhood was beginning to stir.
Later Kalea awoke to find the God of War staring at his daughter. The expression on his face was one Kalea had never seen before. If I didn’t know better, she thought, I’d think that was love.
She rose quietly from the bed and went to stand beside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and said, "She’s quite beautiful and special, isn’t she?"
Ares looked startled, then guilty as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. "Amazing," he said softly, "just amazing."
"What’s amazing?" Kalea asked. There was such a look of tenderness in his eyes when he stared at the sleeping baby.
"The future," he replied enigmatically. "The smallest actions can change everything."
"You can see her future?" She asked. "Ares, will she be Queen?"
He laughed and raised an eyebrow at her. "Kalea, even if I knew the future, I could not tell you. The Fates as well as the rest of the Gods would have my head. I can only tell you she will not be the last of the line."
And with that, Kalea had to be content, Ares would say no more.
As Sienna grew older, the God of War came to visit Kalea less and less frequently. She knew, without it being spoken, he did not want the child to know who her father was. Kalea had been right; having his child had cemented her position completely. Though no one spoke openly of her heir’s parentage, respecting the God of War’s wishes, no one dared challenge her Queenship either. Any who thought of it were sure they would bring the wrath of the God of War down on them if they did. She kept her promise to Ares and at eighteen, the Amazons of Parnasis had a choice, Ares, or Artemis. This did not particularly please Artemis, but Kalea didn’t care. Though it was a delicate balancing act, she managed to integrate worship of both Gods into the tribe. The tribe seemed happier and began to grow strong in number.
On the day Sienna turned eighteen she chose to serve Ares, never realizing he was her father. Kalea was proud of her daughter, she had grown tall and strong and would make a wonderful Queen.
Ares never let on how he felt, but Kalea could sense it. That night, he came to her hut for the first time in years. "She’s turned out well," he said. "You did a good job."
Kalea laughed. "How could I have done less? She is, after all, half god."
He studied her face intently, "She still does not know?"
Kalea shook her head. "Of course not. Besides, as you told me when she was born, she has no special powers, only those she was born with as a mortal. She is simply herself."
"She will make a great Queen," he said proudly. "Your descendants will rule this tribe for a long time."
"Ares," she asked softly, "do you know this for fact?"
He laughed. "You know I cannot answer that. But she is very like you and the same age you were when you became Queen."
"And will you help her? Guide her as you did me?" She asked.
"I did nothing of the sort," he replied with another laugh. "You always had your mind made up long before you ever asked me for advice."
She laughed with him. "Will I live long enough to see my grandchildren?"
He knew what she was asking. Had seen the sickness in her. "I do not know," he answered slowly. "But even if I did . . ."
She came to him, put her arms around his neck and said, "I know I’m not as young as I used to be, but I used to please you very much." She raised her face to stare into his eyes, the question hanging in the air between them.
"You will never be old to me," he said softly. He slipped his arms around her and began to gently kiss her.