The Wrath of Aphrodite - Book 2

A Rather Intense Goodbye

*Mature Scene*

Harmonia sleeps soundly in the other room. And with that, we waste little time in claiming each other. All in relief of finally publicly presenting ourselves together, and relief that the night did not go worse, and mostly that it was finally over.

The rise and fall of emotions was quite a bit to handle, but we aren't letting it deter us.

On the way back, Ares of course solemnly told me that he should leave in the morning, but with a promise of a return. He also promised to try and check in with Eros for me and put in a good word to visit me.

Hopefully it affects Eros in some way...what I have done to get the silent treatment...I still don't fully understand. A moment away from each other has passed after all. The anger subsided. The point has been made. I won't make him curse the poor girl anymore if he would just pay me a visit. He wouldn't have to hear any of it...or even stay if he doesn't want to.

I accept its time for the next chapter. That he's all grown up now. My grasp on him is already lost.

I just don't want it to feel like something is broken. Our relationship can have multiple complications and moving parts to it, as long as we understand it. We can still be a normal mother and son. Right?

I tried to believe that to be true just to let go for the evening, and enjoy what I have with me right now.

A daughter to put to sleep, and her father to enjoy.

For someone else, it can be just that simple. That is enough. For me, I can barely grasp it...it's no wonder I want to hold onto it for dear life when I do have it.

But, when Ares kisses me, it starts to feel alright, even if just momentarily. When he lifts my dress, for his strong hands to roam my bare waist, it feels even better.

I partake in what is mine.

As is my right. Isn't it?

We kissed outside in the meadow before we even made it inside. Teasing each other. At first lightly, but it escalated to much more.

He leans me back on the kitchen table to the sound of the front door slamming behind him. He does not even allow me to lure him to the bed. His impatience is running too thin already as it is and I can't blame him. Making it home was already hard enough. Especially considering our time together this time around is already coming to its inevitable goodbye, and we are both in need of letting go of the night behind us. 'Letting go' in our most guilty of pleasures, that is. 

I can feel everything within him burning hot, his heart beating under my hand pressed to his chest as he kisses me. I can feel the emotion from him too, the relief of our current cooperation and united lust for each other most of all. I can't deny how strongly I feel the same. For now that's all that matters. Tomorrow I have all the time in the world to think about it and let all the regrets fester within my mind while I'm left alone once more.

Just not right now. Not as he is tearing the front of my dress open. 

I only allow him a minute of admiration before I demand he do the same. Allowing for us both to be equally exposed for once, and even better, skin to skin. My hands skim up the muscles of his back, shamelessly enjoying the feel of his strength while kisses flutter down my neck as he leans over me, completely dominating my position. Only because I am allowing him to.

My dress still lies beneath me. The entire top half ruined, but the white skirt is still splayed around me, still caught on my knees, serving only to tease and conceal from me where his hands are headed and when. 

He works on removing the rest of his clothes as the kisses on my chest become more intense, leading back up my cheek to my mouth. A more affectionate approach than usual from him. Something I wished we did more often. 

In the midst of it all, as soon as I begin to get lost in it, his fingers finally reach for me. I gasp out against his lips in surprise - which evidently pleases him. 

He wastes little time from there. His large hands grab hold of my bare legs to inch me closer, finally ripping the rest of the dress from me. As soon as he enters me, I feel a mixture of relief and bliss. I close my eyes to purely focus on the pleasure, taking in every inch of the feeling.

Wrapping my legs around his middle I pull him closer, egging him on. Everything left on the table, including a stray plate and a wine glass, scatter around us. Eventually they all shake to the ground as his movements intensify. The sound of the glass shattering falls on deaf ears.

My legs begin to quiver as his hand caresses both the back on my head and between my legs once more, earnestly aiming for my finish, his eyes now watching me in anticipation. I'm soon tensing up, knowing what's coming. It isnt long before I'm gasping, eyes closed, while he groans above me. Happy to witness it, I'm sure.

I nearly think he's finished along with me, but he's merely paused for a moment. He's not nearly done. He picks me up off the table to support me completely without removing himself from me. The sensation quickly turns to otherworldly pleasure as he is driven even deeper, and my legs are left dangling on either side of his hips, still numb and tingling. He thrusts upward, removing the work from me entirely until he's finished. I truly hate to admit just how euphoric his sudden choice ended up being for me - and I'm sure for him as well, but I'm sure it was all written on my face for every second of it.

He omits that he loves me by the end, still holding me up in his arms, both of them wrapped around me while my head leans on the crook of his shoulder and my arms lay around his neck. It is a true moment to appreciate just how strong he is. We stay there for a minute of peace when he says those words - words, of course, that do not fall lightly on my ears. Even if it is in the heat of the moment, I know he has meant it in the past and still must now...in some form. Maybe some times more than others. I take it for what it is and tell him the same in return. I whisper is back to him just as sweetly. 

One more night for now, and then we will have another time soon. Many more nights to confess our feelings in times of passion before parting ways. 

We indulge on and off throughout the night until morning regardless of what was to come next. We talk in between of nothing particularly substantial, some gossip, some jokes, some teasing. For a while, we lie together, having finally made it around the bed by morning but painfully awake. We are nearly wordless by then, no doubt in contemplation of what kind of day we each have planned separately from the other, but holding each other still. 

It isn't until the urgency of my morning breakfast plans set in before I nudge him up. Then, I am shortly after watching him leave with slightly more understanding that usual. Quiet understanding, but understanding nevertheless.

I don't have too long to sit in that feeling. After a sleepless night, I have a tedious, possibly nail-biting introduction breakfast to attend. Something I knew beforehand but had apparently decided to not mentally prepare for until half an hour ago. 

No doubt he is facing a challenge of his own, one that must be fully completed before he finds himself wandering back again. I'm sure we will both tell each other about it the next time we see each other...