Certain Doom, Interrupted (Methos and Autumn)

There was a war waging amidst mighty Greece and for once, Mighty Greece was falling. Surrounding enemy territories had taken a preemptive strike, using the element of surprise, and invaded the one land known for its invincible heroes and undefeated battles. For years, a group of weary men from all over the world had banded together, training hour after painstaking hour just to have this moment of pleasure, this honor, of invading Greece. Their muscles groaned in protest, hands were stained with blood, and brows covered in sweat as one by one they fought their way to victory.

Ithaca, Cephalonia, Leucas, and Zacynthus had already been captured, the very first to fall prey to the enemy. For months, Greece could hear the cries of her citizens, blood-curdling screams filling the night air and fire burning her lands to ashes as they moved more inward and away from the sea. Kings were forced from their beds, either slaughtered or running to safety as their wives and children were forced to suffer much worse fates. Most of them, being arrogant and proud, never looked back for their families.

King Kleitos, however, was of a different caliber. He was well-known for his fairness in ruling, his gentleness, and his love for his only living relative: his sister, Ambrosia. Like vortexes in the night, they came, terrorizing through the city. Stealth was unnecessary when you had power and brute strength, both of which they used to their advantages. Several heathen men climbed into the palace walls, scouring for treasures of any sort. It was a strong shake that woke Kleitos, his commander tugging at him with urgency. "We must go, hurry hurry. The walls, they burn!" Confused as he was, the old king listened as he surged from his bed and toward a tunnel that would lead them to safety. "Stop, where is my sister?" He asked, his wise gray eyes searching for her. "It is too late, I watched them carry her out."

Only sheer force kept Kleitos from returning for her, overpowered by men who thought his life to be far more important than that of a princess. By then, they knew she must be dead or dying. A boat took Kleitos and survivors to an uninhabited island in the center of the Aegean Sea, the opposite side from which the deadly army came. It was the gathering place of the surviving Kings of Greece and also where they plotted how to regain their territories. As soon as his feet touched the sand, Kleitos was pleading with the leader of the armies, begging them to return for his beloved sister, a princess of Greece no less!

~~~

The silk draping on the windows was suddenly still, the lack of breeze causing the air to be so stale she couldn't breathe. A foul stench of smoke assaulted her nose, bringing the princess out of her slumber. Torches created shadows on the stone walls, moving too quickly to be anyone who belonged there. Whispered voices stirred the stillness, warning her that their owners were not friendly. Heart pounded against her chest, the hollow sound reverberating in her ears. Carefully pushing away the thick linen, she rolled out of bed and onto the cold floor. Eyes watching the dark corridor, her left hand reached to grasp a sharp dagger from beneath the bedrolls.

Yards of red silk billowed from her body, the color making her more of a target. Bare feet padded on the floor as she raced toward the second entrance to her chamber, having seen no light coming from the area. Slipping behind the wall, she could hear harsh voices exchanging conversation as they suddenly entered the room she had been sleeping in only minutes before. Shaky free hand came to her mouth, clasping over it so that her ragged breaths could not be heard. She backed away from the doorway, inching down the black hallway when she felt a strong arm clutch her middle. "Gotcha!" He proclaimed, underestimating her.

Quickly, her left hand plunged into his gut, wasting no time when his arm loosened around her to run as quickly as possible. His yelps alerted the men, their heavy footsteps racing after her. "Get her!" They chanted, gaining on her speed. Finally, one caught her, both of his arms grasping around her chest so tightly he forced the air from his lungs. He lifted her five-foot six-inch frame off the floor, all the while her strong legs kicked mercilessly. Another man joined to gather and bind her arms and legs, making her more helpless as they carried her away from the comforts of her room and into the unknown.

Androkles stood upon the bow of his ship, dark eyes gazing off across the blue green expanse of the sea as his ship broke through its gently rolling waves. His hand rested against the bowsprit, and he felt the wind blowing through locks of dark hair while the ocean’s spray dampened his visage. Androkles turned his head and spied the twenty sails that were in close proximity to him. His hand rose as he ran his fingers idly through locks of hair and upon the horizon the isle of Ceos could be seen. He’d ordered the ships to rendezvous there, and take on provisions and fresh water.

They had been at sea for days already, as the journey from distant Thessaly to the more southerly portions of Greece. The news that had been received was quite alarming. The Ionian islands had been occupied, and now these foreign barbarians had swept across the sea and into the Saronic Gulf, knocking upon the door of Megara and Athens itself! Ships from Athens had made there way even to Thessaly’s distant shores, as the Athenian called upon their allies and pleaded for aid as swiftly as it could be rendered.

Phillippos, the Thessalian king had ordered two thousand men to put to sea to relieve the southern Greek kingdoms. Thus many of the finest warriors that the kingdom could field and its famous horses were aboard ships headed south. Androkles being his son had been given command of this relief force. South they sailed with all the speed a score of ships loaded down with armed human and equine passengers could manage. The weather was fair and did little to delay them, although a wary eye was always kept on the horizon for who knew from where or when these mysterious invaders would appear?

The shores of Ceos were soon reached and his ship was the first to disembark although the others followed shortly thereafter. The island was not heavily populated thus it was with some surprise that a number of ships were ringing the island. Androkles soon discovered than many had fled from Salamis and Aegina to Ceos, and representatives from the many Greek kingdoms had made their way here to seek to co-ordinate some sort of response to the menace that plagued Greece.

The swift arrival of his ships was hailed with warm welcomes, and praise for his noble father. Soon Androkles found he was being apprised of the circumstances of the recent fall of Salmis and Aegina. The grief of King Kleitos at having to leave his rather beautiful sister behind in the flight from the island was relayed. Those whom had slipped away a matter of days later had heard the most disturbing rumors that the princess, Ambrosia, was intended as some sort of grisly sacrifice to dark, foreign gods.

Outrage had flashed across the tanned features of the Thessilian prince. His fist had clenched as he contemplated Greek royalty being defiled and the princess whom was spoken of in such glowing tones murdered by these marauders. As an Aegian soldier finished relating the tale to him, Androkles had already turned and began to stalk back towards his ship. The Aegian called out “Where are you going?” The prince answered rather laconically “To rescue your princess.”

The soldier sprinted after him. “Wait! I’m going with you..” The soldier was rather youthful himself, and light brown hair and eyes were accompanied by boyish features. He wore light armor and his sword was strapped to his waist and his shield was carried upon his arm. “You need someone who knows the island and the city.”

Androkles bit his tongue as he considered offering his opinion that the Aegians were cowards to a man for having deserted their island and their women. But he couldn’t deny the reasoning of this particular soldier. He nodded to him as he remarked “Then hurry up, I mean to set to sea immediately. Who are you?”

“Pindar your highness.” The soldier replied as he hurried to be fast upon the taller man’s heels. For Androkles struck a rather imposing sight, he was tall for a Greek standing about six feet in height. Broad shoulders and a body well muscled for constantly pursuit of the warlike arts, had left the dark haired prince an image imitating Ares himself. Well if Ares wore the rust coloured cloak of a Thessilian cavalryman. A bronze breastplate, shield and sword added to the warlike image.

The beach where the Thessilian ships had landed was reached. Androkles stopped briefly as he informed his younger brother Seleukos that he intended to raid Aegina and rescue its captured princess. Seleukos lofted a brow and offered an amused smile as he noted “And how pray tell brother do you intend to do that? We have two thousand men, we know not how numerous our enemies are and we certainly don’t know Aegina well.”

Undeterred Androkles remarked “I shall not retake the city by force, I shall slip in by the dark of night, and liberate the princess from her prison and like a shade from Hades pass through their walls and return to the sea with her.” He rather airly stated “I shall see you in a week’s time at most. Command the rest of the men until I return.”

With that Androkles began to chivvy his men back onto the ship and yelled for it to be made ready to sail immediately. Seleukos idly remarked “Yes, what could possibly go wrong with a plan like that brother? Try not to get yourself killed in this fools errand you’ve adopted, father with be most upset with me if he finds out I let you sail off on a suicide mission.”

The mark of a true Greek was not measured by his ability to win in battles, but by the manner in which he feared and respected the mighty gods. Blessed were those who paid homage to the immortal deities, and cursed were those who did not. Every aspect of life was nurtured by some powerful being, whether it was Zeus bringing forth torrents of rain for the crops or Eos bringing the first light of dawn.

The King and Queen of Aegina had ruled for nearly a decade without an heir. Every night, the solemn queen prayed to the Goddess of Fertility to give her a son to someday take the throne, and if she would only grant her this then her life would be forever indebted to the gracious Goddess. Somewhere in Mount Olympus, she must have heard her as a son was given to them.

During childbirth, deluded by fever, the queen experienced a vision in which she immediately knew her body was to be claimed by death in exchange for the new life of her child. Instead, however, Aphrodite told her she was to name her son Kleitos for he would become famous as the gentle ruler Greece would need. Before she left, Aphrodite whispered a promise she would give the aging queen a miracle before her journey to the Elysian Fields began.

Nearly thirty years passed before the promise would be fulfilled. The queen, ripe with age and wisdom, was steadily approaching the end of her mortality when her second miracle was delivered. A daughter so beautiful she must have been woven from the molds of Aphrodite herself, the pair knew that her birth was another gift from the immortal gods. Thus, they named her in honor that immortality: Ambrosia.

~~~

It was, as the cruelty of irony would have it, that very name that had earned her the predicament she was in at that very moment. The enemy, not unlike the Greeks, served their heathen gods by freely given them sacrifices. It was their belief that these actions were crucial in the aid of their power, the gods so pleased by their gifts they gave the mortals the honor of marauding and conquering Greece. Thus, the men did not choose their victims at random but selected only the most delicate maidens as fare. Having heard of the princess with the divine beauty of Aphrodite and the name of immortality, it was that very woman that brought their fleet to Aegina's shores.

Two weeks passed after the capture of Ambrosia, the men keeping her bound in the dungeons that dug into the earth beneath the palace. Though they kept her limbs in leather cuffs, the men fed her with rich food and sweet wine made from the grapes in her very own vineyard. What was even more surprising was that none of them looked at her in lewd ways or touched her in a manner that seemed inappropriate.

All the while, the troops anticipated the next full moon, the night the festival for the gods would begin. The captors had imprisoned three additional women from the palace, assigning them with the sole tasks of preparing the princess for her encounter with their immortal spirits. As the moon began to wane brightly in the sky, ever increasing in its fullness, the men announced the time would come the following night.

~~~

There was a steady drip drip drip of water spilling from a crack in the dark walls of the damp dungeon. There was a single torch burning on the wall, the only source of light. Ambrosia was huddled in the corner, fingers working deftly to try to free the thick cuffs from her wrists and ankles. Try as she might, she couldn't break the strength of the bindings. From across the room, she heard the squeak of the door as the smoke from another torch tickled her nose. Without a word, two broad-shouldered men marched into the room and began to free her from the shackles bolted to the wall. Two meaty hands clutched her upper arms, effortlessly lifting her from the floor and carrying her out of the dungeon toward the staircases that led to higher ground within the palace walls.

They threw her in the very room they had sought to abduct her from, tossing her onto the stone floor. Eyes that mirrored the Aegean Sea blinked through thick, dark lashes, settling on three figures standing at the foot of the bed. "Princess," one of them began, "we've come to prepare you for a festival in your honor." She bowed, stepping forth to help Ambrosia off the floor. "Let us bathe you and strip you from your soiled clothing." The second one added, joining the first to lift up the young woman.

"A festival?" She questioned, her knees creaking as she steadied herself on her dirty feet. "Yes, your name is chanted outside the walls." The third one spoke softly, hiding the truth behind a facade. The three women led her down to the baths where they tore away the red fabric and submerged her in the warm waters. Three pairs of hands scrubbed grime from her olive skin, lavishing her body in oils of jasmine. They dipped her back, weaving their fingers in her long locks, smoothing the tangles from the strands. When they were finished, they took her back to her chamber where she slept peacefully in her own bed.

When she stirred from her slumber, the sounds of cheering and music could be heard. Slender arms moved to push her into a sitting position, but the chains around her wrists prevented it. No longer was she in the soft folds of her bed, but placed on a slat filled with straw that prodded and that underside of her body. At each corner of this slab of wood and straw was a torch of fire. The four separate flames burned brightly enough that she could see ornate details around the edges that created this box-shaped bed.

From somewhere inside this cell, which was much larger than the dungeon she had previously been held in, there was a rough breeze. The harsh winds blew at her hair, scattering white flowers from dark waves infused with flecks of honey into the chamber. Glancing down at her soft form, she noted she was draped in a thin shroud of crisp, white cloth. The fabric bent in the air like a flag, uncovering her long, shapely legs. Arms were covered in bracelets of gold and rubies, the weight of thick jewelry pulling down on her ears and pressing into her neck.

A set of matching shackles were clasped around her ankles, holding the muscled weapons into place. Arching herself slightly, she twisted so that she could see the emblems cut into the wooden edges. The figures were bulky and large with horns and stood in an upright position like any man: minotaurs. Painted lips fell agape, chest rising rapidly against the smooth fabric. It occurred to her then that this was not just any bed, but the pyre that would burn her body after these evil creatures had devoured her in ways she never would want to imagine.

Androkles paced about the deck of his ship. Dark eyes slid from the full sail to the horizon as he seemed to seek to cause the wind to pick up and speed their voyage through pure force of will. His boots beat upon the wooden deck as his brow furrowed with rather deep thought, the Prince seeking to decipher exactly how he intended to liberate the captured princess. His brother’s suggestion that a slightly more elaborate plan was necessary had not been entirely misplaced.

Yet as he sought to sail in under the cover of night and beard foreign gods, dutifully he called upon his own gods to aid him in his struggle. A quartet of lambs were sacrificed their throats cut and blood left to pour into the sea as Androkles called for the assistance of Poseidon, Zeus, Ares and at the suggestion of the Aegian Pindar, Aphrodite for it was said she had favoured the Aegian royals. He sought the blessing of the gods in this rather audacious venture, with his hands sticky with the lambs’ blood his men took the lambs and butchered their bodies. As was tradition the fat and bones were offered to the gods while the meat was consumed by those offering the sacrifice.

Time weighed heavily upon him as he wiped off his hands with a bit of rag. He had two days until the full moon would strike. Although he moved with all due haste, he had some inkling that if a large victory sacrifice was going to occur then it would wait no longer than that particular night. The last thing Androkles wanted was to sail to Aegina, and find he had arrived too late. However, there was little his fretting could do in that respect he simply had to trust in gods to allow his arrival to be timely.

Sailors and soldiers kept the ship headed towards their destination as day wound down to night. The Thessilians could see the brooding mood that lingered upon their prince’s features as he’d sat down and leaned back against the mast. Whatever troubled him left his men with little in the way of doubts, for luck had ever accompanied their prince’s bravery no matter how often his adventures were deemed foolhearty.

For now as night set in the prince let his head droop against his shoulder as that rust coloured cloak was pulled around his form to ward off the night air. In sleep he seemed to find the answers that had eluded him. As with his eyes shut, his mind was filled with the image of a harbour with many strange ships within it. The ships themselves had been left unguarded as one could hear festivities in the street, and the sound of drunken singing coming from the city. The ships burst into flames and suddenly the reveling invaders rushed from the city to seek to put out the fires. Surely that would provide all the distraction he needed to slip inside the city and liberate the princess.

Thus when he awoke the sun’s rays shining down on his face, a smile graced his lips as he rose to his feet. After a moment was spent stretching he hollered for several of the officers. Thus a trio of sleepy eyed Thessilians struggled to their feet and after a few brief yawns wandered over to the prince with curious expressions gracing their features. Androkles launched into explaining his dream to them and once he’d described the details he’d lay out his plan. “We’ll move in by cover of nightfall, find a save cover to anchor our boat. I want you to take the small boats and fill them with the pots of flaming oil we have, start a blaze among the barbarian ships and then get the hell out of there. Your fires will be all the distraction I need, when I and a half a dozen men slip into the city and move to rescue the princess. We will all return to the boat and then get out of here before the fires are all extinguished and they launch ships to see who or what was responsible for the fires.”

Thus they headed towards the island, grower nearer so that birds were soon spotted. They sailed away from the city and the harbour itself. Pindar rather helpfully suggested a safe harbour a short distance from the city. Their approach had they sail far from the city and then they return in a northerly direction to hide from the site of enemies by approaching beneath the cliffs. There they weighed anchor and as evening began to approach armour was shed by both the prince and the half dozen companions he took with him. A grappling hook with rope, their sword, sandals and tunics was all the equipment they sought to take with them on this particular venture. Their faces had been darkened with a charcoal paste as well as their arms and legs, for the prince sought to move like a ghost through the city. The row boats were launched after casks of oil had been loaded to it. The strongest swimmers were selected to spread among the ships in the harbour and carry the casks on board, and empty their contents before burning brands were thrown upon the ships.

The prince and his men were ferried to the beach and then began to make their way across it through the fading light. Pindar led them to a trail up through the cliffs, and from there they began to job towards the walls of the city a few mills distant. As darkness fell, and they grew closer to the city’s walls they could hear the sound of music and rather raucous partying taking place. Thus as they slipped up to the walls and the grappling hook went over the edge and caught in place, Androkles clambered upwards, followed by Pindar and then five Thessilian soldiers.

The rope was retrieved by the last trooper, and then with Pindar taking the point they began to slip through the dark streets towards the palace. A pair of guards were spotted playing dice and drinking wine at a table before the entrance to the palace. Androkles, raised his hand and quietly drew his sword and his dagger. He drifted through the shadows until he came near to both guards. Without a word his dagger whistled through the air and pieced one guard’s throat and left him gargling and gasping for air as he fell to the ground, the other sought to draw his sword but found the prince upon him before he could pull it free. Two brutal thrusts later and he too lay bleeding upon the floor. The Thessilians darted forwards and pulled the bodies out of sight. Thereafter, all seven of the rescue party headed into the palace and began to make their way towards the dungeon.

From days of old, the kings of Aegina had been wise in building the fortress of their castle walls. The stones were cut into erratic patterns, giving the architecture the look of an elaborate labyrinth. It was a means of being misleading, should the unthinkable happen and their territory be invaded. Though the enemy had managed to pull together enough numbers to thoroughly inspect the area, the winding and twisting corridors had managed to delay their capture of the princess and altogether prevented them from finding King Kleitos.

A true Aeginan knew well the layout of the palace, whether he was royalty or peasant; it had been the duty of fathers to pass the information to sons. A secret of defense, if you will. As Kleitos had neither a wife nor a son, he relayed the information to his precious sister. He whispered to her the tunnels that led into the underground and warned her of the two dungeons built beneath the hard earth. The first one was smaller with four walls and shackles covering the stone. To an untrained eye, there was no hope of escaping, but to someone who knew the cleverness of the kings it was a different tale entirely. One of the walls gave way to a much larger chamber. It was labeled as a dungeon, though it was merely a holding cell built for armies to hide in while an enemy infantry marauded the land. There was another disguised doorway that led directly to the outside, making it easy for Aegina's military to surprise the opposing army.

As Aegina had never been attacked before, Ambrosia knew the security of this shelter had never been breached previously. Though her captors had come inside the smaller chamber frequently to bring her sustenance, they had never once stepped foot toward that secret door. It was then that the bound princess discovered the ugly truth of the matter: someone on the inside of her brother's army had committed the ultimate crime of treachery against the King. Someone who was perhaps safe with all the other rulers on the island in the Aegean had betrayed his homeland of Mother Greece. But who and why?

The chants grew more loudly from outside the stone walls. Visions of men dancing and slinging her kingdom's wine in honor of her bloodshed enveloped her mind. Frantic, Ambrosia began to flail her arms and legs about roughly, eyes cautiously watching the hatch that led to both her freedom and her death. The restraints pulled tautly against her skin, burning the delicate flesh. Mouth opened to scream, but it would do no good. Everyone who could hear was awaiting her death anyway.

There was a steady drum beating in rhythm with her heart, the end of it signifying the cease of the vitality that pounded against her ribcage. She knew what was waiting on the other side of that door, ready to ravage and mutilate her fleshy vessel. Finally, the drumming stopped. The yells of the men outside became more frantic and distant, though she didn't understand the meaning of it. Lungs dragged in a heavy breath through her mouth, keeping it held within her chest. She waited. . . and waited. . . and still. . .

On the other side of the wall, two men held ropes that controlled the doors. The massive beasts paced impatiently in front of the stone slabs, clawing at it as they roared out into the night. They were thirsty for blood; hungry with lust. The men knew that when the drumming ceased, they were to release the doors, but it was the panicked calls of the seamen that alerted them. "Fire!" Someone shouted. "The ships!" Another one yelled. Neither considered the consequences as they bolted from their posts, the ropes slacking against the doors and raising them enough that the monsters ran inside before the hatch was sealed tightly again.

Once the two minotaurs were closed inside, their keen senses began to work frantically. The fire flickered in their eyes, the thrashing figure alerting them of their gift. Massive feet slapped against the floor, the two creatures moving steadily toward Ambrosia. The princess glanced around the chamber, looking for anything that may help her hold them back. Closer and closer they came, the stench of their skin burning her nose. Mouth opened, a scream emitting into the air. With one last moment to give her legacy, she cried out: "I am Ambrosia, Princess of Greece and I will die for the land I love! For Kleitos and for Aegina!"

At this point Pindar actually proved his usefulness. While not so physically imposing as his Thessalian comrades in this venture, as a royal guard he knew his way through the palace. Hence he led them through the winding corridors and then downwards to through the dungeon below. The palace seemed all but deserted aside from a few servants who simply kept their heads down and gave no indication that they found seven men with swords and camouflage upon their faces unusual.

Another pair of guards was encountered, they staggered to their feet and raised their swords but were rather abruptly over run. A half dozen swords were directed towards them, and taken by surprise and outnumbered they offered little in the way of effective resistance. Thus they raced down into the dungeon as its guards lay in pools of their own blood.

As Androkles ventured into the dungeon with his blade in hand, he heard a rather strange sound emerging from the dungeon. A scraping and snorting sound was head along with the clamp of hooves. “Why would there be hooves in a dungeon..?” He asked although none of his companions could offer any sort of explanation. The native Pindar shrugged as he said “Their never were before…” His statement only seemed to confirm that the sound was something that did not seem to belong.

Androkles remarked “Faster..find her!” A sense of something being wrong struck him and the Thessalians fanned out as they began to check the cells for the one that held the princess. An ill suspicion filled him as the prince elected to follow his nose. His nostrils flared and recoiled as the scent of what seemed like rancid cattle became rather pungent. Hence he moved towards that rather odious odor.

As they searched the dungeon the cries of “Fire!” could be heard as it would appear the other prong of his plan appeared to have successfully executed its objective. Now it was merely a matter of him holding up his own. He picked up his pace as he dashed down the hallway and he heard the princess crying out expecting death. He slid to a halt in front of the cell door. The wooden barrier stood in his path as he saw a pair of minotaurs entering the cell and moving towards the princess. “Shit…”

He backed up to the wall and then ran towards the door and threw his shoulder into it. A loud thump was heard as his rather brawny form collided with it. The door would shudder and the hinges groaned. His shoulder quite naturally ached as he remarked “Bloody hell..so close yet so far.” But with that said, he back up towards the wall and with a rather determined cry dashed forward and threw his shoulder into the door again. Yet this time the hinged groaned and then the metal snapped and he fell forward atop the door with a rather loud crash as it struck the door.

“Son of a bitch..” He muttered as he pushed himself up off the floor and drew his sword. The prince rose with his sword in hand and a rather aching shoulder as the crash of the door striking the floor had caused both the minotaurs to turn from closing in upon the princess to regard this new interloper. Given that the minotaurs were pointing more than their noses at him as they turned to face him, there was little question as to what would have transpired had he been any longer. He heard the sound of his men yelling and their sandaled feet. On the other hand they weren’t there right now to help him as two rather angry and apparently horny minotaurs charges right at him.

As the minotaurs dashed at him he elected to leap at them. Well he almost leap at them in any chase, it would be more truthful that he leap into a gap at about waist level between them and then scrambled to his feet behind them. Thereafter, as they turned about his sword lashed into the hamstring of the nearest minotaur, slicing behind its knee. A howl of pain was heard as the creature stepped forward and then stumbled to the ground.

However, the didn’t stop the other minotaur from dashing back towards him. Its bull-like frame dwarfed even the rather brawny Thessalian prince. But he stared the creature down and his sword was held loosely in his grasp. As the creature charged him he waited and at the last moment he stepped to the side, darting from its path as his sword would slice at its arm as he did so. A cry of animalistic pain escaped the monsters lips and it turned more quickly and a long arm lashed out towards the prince. He stepped backwards and his hands slipped down and pulled a dagger from his belt. He threw the knife towards the creature’s thick neck. It grunted in pain as the blade stuck in the side of its neck. It paused long enough that Androkles had a moment to dash forwards as it froze and with all the force his body could muster he drove his blade into its gullet.

The minotaur snarled and leaned in to grasp him with its huge hands and he felt the crushing grip of its fingers, all he could do was twist the blade he’d plunged into it and as the creature bled out onto the floor its grasp weakened. He pulled forth his blade and then turned and rather directly moved towards the downed minotaur. The prince drove the tip of his blade down into its throat. Finally his soldiers and Pindar appeared in the doorway and Pindar inquired “Prince Androkles are you alright?”

“Yea..never better, thanks for the help there.” Sarcasm tinted his voice but batter, bruised and bloodied he turned towards where the princess had been chained. He somewhat gingerly moved over towards her as he beckoned over one of his men “Are you alright Princess?” He asked as he remarked “Undo her shackles.” The fellow pulled out a lock pick and began to fiddle with the locks and one by one they were slowly made to click and then remove themselves from her limbs. He looked at the trooper and muttered “Where were you when I needed that door opened?”

“We’re a little short on time for introductions Princess, but given the circumstances I’m sure you’ll understand. I’m Prince Androkles of Thessally, these fine fellow are comrades of mine, although Pindar here is one of yours and he related your plight to me. I could hardly leave you here to be sacrificed. But the rest of my men have fired their ships, but I’m rather sure that it would be unwise if we remained here to see how long it takes them to realize that there may be more transpiring than just their ships being fired..so this is when we should run.”

The scene lay before her like a nightmare from the darkest depths of a twisted mind. The pair of beasts began to encircle the pyre like some ritualistic episode, huffing and groaning as they did so. This woman was never one for the dramatics, thus she hated the thought of her death being just that. The fire that burned within her told her not to give in, but the logical voice had already admitted defeat.

Just before they turned their putrid faces toward her, the sound of crashing interrupted the scene. A voice could be heard, followed by an assault that happened so quickly it baffled Ambrosia. The creatures surged toward the muscled figure, brushing past and temporarily forgetting her. Concerned that the minotaurs would gain two meals instead of one, Ambrosia closed her eyes to the scene. The sound of metal and slicing hurt her ears, the princess wishing she could stop the event from happening. Finally, all was still.

Another voice stirred the air, cutting through the tension with a metaphorical knife. Prince? The man replied, and that very same tone both asked of her health and ordered her freedom. Velvet lashes fluttered open, watching as a man began to undo the chains that held her so firmly in place. Gaze shot from face after face to the heaps of fur and filth on the floor. A million questions came to mind, the woman wanting to first ask him how he had found her.

Yet, there was no time as he gave a hurried introduction and expressed the urgency to leave. Head nodded toward the prince and a soldier of her own land, briefly wondering if he had been the one to betray her country. Taking heed to his warning, Ambrosia pushed herself into a sitting position. The fabric draping her body was so thin she could feel its cling mold to her body like a second skin. "Thank you." And even though she wasn't one to care for heroics, she was truly grateful toward these men who risked their own lives to save hers.

Hands modestly reached for the swaddling of silk, making sure to wrap it across her torso. Wasting no time for his chivalry, she threw her bare legs off the wooden slab and climbed out of her funeral bed. "Wait, may I have a blade?" She asked, pausing in front of them. Reaching for Pindar's sword, she held it tightly in the palm of both her hands as she lunged forth and pierced the hearts of both the creatures. Keeping the blade for herself, she shrugged. "Just in case." Not meant as an insult to the prince, but rather a last jab at the beings that almost devoured her.

There would be time to properly address the men later, if they made it safely out of this land. For now, she grabbed the hand of the mighty prince and ran in the opposite direction from which he came. "This is closer to shore." She whispered, surging toward the stone doors that had allowed the minotaurs to enter. "There is a lever that controls these doors from the inside." Letting go of his hand, she gave Pindar back his sword as she dropped to her knees. Crawling around on the floor, she blindly felt the walls for the latch. Palm was pricked by a tiny jut of stone, the lever so subtle hardly anyone would notice it. Tugging on it, she stood as the stone began to raise, the cool night air blowing against her frame. Being that no man wanted to be led by a woman, she hung back so that the prince and his crew could initiate the escape from the palace.

Androkles likely looked something of a site, splattered with minotaur blood, bruised, battered and his face darkened so as to better secret himself into the city. It was all rather unlike the stories where he would have swooped in on the back of a Pegasus gleaming with a golden white light, and slain any who lay in his path without getting so much as a speck of blood on his tunic. Nor had he really had much time for standing around to glory in his triumph as he’d rather promptly informed the princess that they had to find a way out of here.

The princess looked slightly startled that she’d been rescued, evidently having resigned herself to her fate. Androkles’ dark eyes watched as Ambrosia clamber from the bed where she’d been bound and come to her feet before it. Adrenaline pounding through his veins and the rather urgent need to escape this palace or not, he couldn’t help but let his eyes stray along her form. With no more than a scant wisp of white silk clinging to every contour of her body, and jewelry along her limbs, his imagination didn’t require much assistance in filling in the blanks. Though his loins stirred as some corner of his mind contemplated how he felt he should be properly rewarded for having risked his neck, he hadn’t time for that at the moment.

He allowed the princess her brief act of mutilating the bodies of the two minotaurs, although neither stirred to suggest they were anything but dead. The princess seemed to turn her attention from that back towards the need to escape, thus he found her tugging his hand as she recommended they depart through a secret door down the passage from which the minotaurs had been released. Given that he was slightly struck by the woman’s appearance, and she likely knew the palace far better than the rest of them having grown up in it he didn’t argue with the woman but followed her as she lead them to the streets outside the palace.

Androkles wasted no time as he held his sword in one hand and pulled upon the princess, urging her to move after him. Quickly and quietly he’d move through the city’s streets, slinking through the alleys as pandemonium reined over the city. The fired still raged in the harbour, although now the invaders were stirring themselves as some sort of attached seemed obvious from what had transpired so there was a rush to defend the city. They crept through the city until they reached its walls, clambered up its stairs and then by rope slid down the other side.

Landing on the ground outside the city, no dawdling was allowed as Androkles would take the arm of the princess again and begin to dash towards the shore and the path down the cliff. Dark as it was circumstances required that he hurried and the men with him obliged his need for speed. Nor would he allow the princess to lag behind as he half dragged her with him. The plain to the city would be covered in short distance, and soon the winding path down the cliff was followed. Although they slowed down to cover that narrow goat track, and they spied Androkles ship waiting for them. A boat was resting upon the beach with men waiting to row them back to the ship.

He waved his hand to his men and soon he stepped through shallow water still leading the rescued princess and scrambled into the boat before lifting her into it as well. His followers soon were likewise aboard. The board rowed back to the ship and soon rope ladders were tossed downwards and everyone could climb aboard as the smaller boat was pulled back onto the ship. A cheer went up from the Thessalians as they saw that their princess had returned with a woman who could only be the princess he’d set out to rescue. He waved to them and stated rather plainly “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

As the ship set sail only then did he seem to relax somewhat. His eyes turning to the princess as he’d smile and remark “I have to apologize for my appearance and the rather humble comforts that my ship has to offer you Princess.” He grinned slightly as he noted “But perhaps I can crave your indulgence in that given the circumstances.” He winked to her as he noted “I had been sailing south to fight a war, making the acquaintance of someone whose beauty we’ve heard of even so far of as Thessaly was not something I had anticipated.”

There wasn't much time for reflecting on the circumstances as she was pulled farther and farther away from the home she had so loved and toward a sea that held nothing but the unknown. Her long strides easily kept with his, though her aching limbs begged for a rest. As they brushed past his men, she could feel strange pairs of eyes upon her- the stares proud like they had victoriously claimed their prize.

The pale water rushing at her ankles by the shoreline cooled and soothed her singed skin. The salt licked at the wounds, though she didn't mind as it served as a reminder that she was free from the imprisonment of the unnamed enemy. Gaze lingered toward the high castle walls, thinking of the three Aeginan women who had been captured for the sole purpose of preparing Ambrosia for sacrifice. The servants had known they were betraying her by setting her up to be murdered, but, like this princess, they had had no control over their destiny. The barbaric ritual would continue, Ambrosia knew it, but instead of a single princess offered to heathen gods, three servant women would have to suffice. Eyes filled with sadness, already mourning for those three who could not be saved.

Hands distracted her from her thoughts, strong arms easily pulling her into the boat. Ambrosia said nothing, standing in silence while the boat rowed toward the waiting ship. When the smaller craft was nestled against the side of its mother, Ambrosia stepped toward one of the ladders of rope. Without needing assistance, she easily scaled it to the top rung where hands awaited and cheers erupted. Someone offered a muscled arm, which she took only to free the ladder for the other men.

Once aboard, she gave the crew a graceful bow in her best royal formality. "Thank you all so much for risking your lives just for mine. I will be eternally grateful to each and every one of you." Ambrosia, unlike other women of her station, was sincere in every word she spoke. Those women were accustomed to having men wait on and coo over them whereas she and her brother had grown up in an altogether different manner. Neither expected anything from society, thus were always overjoyed by the little miracles of life.

Like silk in the wind, Ambrosia brushed through the throng of men with elegance and poise, no part of her satin skin making contact with that of these calloused seamen. Toward the bow of the ship she glided, using her delicate form to her advantage as she climbed up on the rail. Bare feet flattened on the edge, balance keeping her steady. There was nothing to keep her from plunging into the sea except for faith and fearlessness.

The gentle roar of the waves crashing against the ship was a comfort, almost like lulling her into a trance. Dramatically blue-green eyes crept over the horizon, watching as her beloved palace faded into the distance. Torches danced through the air like fireflies, buzzing quickly as if looking for someone: her. The pale moonlight illuminated the dark shadow of her silhouette against the crispness of that sheer fabric. A mixture of soft curves and hardened muscle contrasted against the fragility of the silk draping. Wrapped across her body like a swaddling blanket, the gentle breeze lapped at the slit of the garment like a prying hand, exposing the surfaces of her dark thighs. Silently, she whispered her good-byes to her home.

A voice cut through her prayers to Aphrodite, tearing her away from her internal whispers of thanks to the Goddess who had seemed to favor her. For a few passing seconds, Ambrosia said nothing to him. Her back remained to his face, her arms extended into the air as if embracing it. Turning toward him at last, she bent and placed two hands on his sturdy shoulders. Using him as leverage, she lowered herself from the plank to the floor of the ship. Smooth fingertips brushed from his shoulders to the length of his arms, softly caressing his battle wounds. "You are brave, dear Prince." She whispered, eyes sweeping the rest of his body for injuries before settling on his face.

Reaching into her hair, she pulled away the remaining flowers from her wild wavy locks. Blowing on them, the white buds scattered into the night, drifting out toward Aegina. Then, with a face composed into gravity, she bent until her plump scarlet lips pressed to the side of his cheek. "I am ecstatic to be aboard your vessel, mighty Thessalonian. Do not rob yourself of this moment with modesty. I am certain you wish for glory, and you shall have it once we disembark onto solid territory. Someone must have sent you to me. Tell me, have you seen my brother, Kleitos?" With her brother into his fifties and she still so young, she admired him more like a father than a sibling. "He is a good man, Prince Androkles", his name rolled effortlessly off her tongue like she had said it countless times, "and he will reward you well for saving my life."

As the woman strode towards the bow of the ship, his eyes followed her. Like flies to the light of a candle, that minimal scrap of fabric clung to her body and seemed to hide nothing but hint at everything. It displayed her body with its soft curves and firm muscle, sparking lust in his eyes and a primal hunger in his body. Never had he looked upon a woman and found himself so utterly desirous of her. Fascinated he followed her over to where she stood regarding the island that was her home.

After he apologized for the lack of regal accommodations on his ship the woman turned to him. He smiled to her and felt her soft fingers sweeping over him. As she praised his bravery he couldn’t help but to grin as he was praised. He felt her lips brushing against his cheek and he remarked “I’m pleased to have you aboard my ship…though modesty is not something I’m so often accused of possessing in excessive amounts.” His own hand rose and strong sword calloused fingers would brush against her cheek, and then slip into her hair toying with a few strands of it.

“Ambrosia, I think I’ve all the glory I desire at the moment.” He smiled as he tore his eyes from her to scan over his ship. “My countrymen have seen and heard of what I’ve accomplished, and I have you here before me knowing exactly what I have done.” His head leaned in slightly towards her as he remarked “What care have I to what others might think of the deed?”

He shook his head as he remarked “No one sent me. I arrived in Ceos and I landed and soon found men from your island and Salamis telling me what had transpired. I heard not only of the attacks, but how you had been taken and your brother had to be dragged away by his soldiers for fear that he too would be captured.” He smiled faintly as he noted “They spoke so highly of you, that I could not help but be angered that these savages had captured you and that others had left you behind.”

“No sooner had I heard this then I decided that I must save you. I turned around and with Pindar there who volunteered to help, sailed for Aegina with little plan but that I was going to find some way to free you. But it came to me in a dream that these invaders would be celebrating and I must send men to fire their ships as I slipped into the city to rescue you.”

Androkles regarded her as he noted “If anyone sent me, it was the gods. No man sent me save myself.” He leaned in and let his mouth seek hers, pressing his lips to her as he murmured “The only reward I crave is yours to give, not your brothers or any other man’s. I have all I’ve ever wanted – except for you.”

This prince possessed a certain pride that mirrored the arrogance that most Greeks carried. Though he had come of his own accord, the boast of heroism danced in his eyes. It was a fault as much as it was an asset, though it had clearly worked in both their favors as he had rescued her from a dark fate. Humbled was she, a princess of dire circumstances, to be standing in the shadows of such a valiant man.

Androkles seemed to be a man of intelligence and charm, both skills he seemed to execute cleanly. She liked that he recognized the gods, accepting that perhaps his dream had been a vision much like that her mother had had before Kleitos was born. "Aphrodite is a mighty Goddess. She has aided me in the twenty-three years of my life, and it is by her hand that you were guided to me. She is my creator, and I am thankful to her for touching you, as well."

Without reservation, his lips leaned in to boldly press upon hers. It was apparent in that moment that he thought he was entitled to the tenderness of her kiss as he had intervened between the minotaurs and her body. Thus, she allowed him to claim her mouth in a fleeting moment. If he thought that she owed him in any other manner, he was mistaken. Her body was not to be taken, but to be given to whom she wanted to receive it.

"You barely know me, Prince Androkles." She stated, tilting her face slightly so that her lips did not so easily brush his. "Surely you are accustomed to women of lavish beauty whereas I am just a humble servant of the gods." She knew well how to speak, complimenting his arrogance and displaying her modesty. "Come, let me wash away the dirt from your wounds."

Her voice was like velvet as she spoke, her hand gentle as she tugged him toward the inner chambers of the ship. Stepping through a curtain, she entered into what surely must have been his quarters as it was dressed with a single bed and several pieces of functional furniture. "Please, have a seat upon the bed."

There was a small bowl of clean water nestled atop a table that she thought must have been provided for washing. Showing her gratitude toward his bravery, Ambrosia reached down and tore strips of cloth from her own garment. Dipping it into the water, she squeezed it into the basin before sauntering toward him. Reaching him, she dropped to her knees.

There was little light in the room, save for the sliver of moonlight that entered through the window. She could scarcely see him, his figure barely outlined against the contrast of the dark bed. Water dripped down onto her aching wrists, reminding her of what the restraints had done to her body. Careful hand grazed his shoulder, dabbing at the dried blood with her cloth. When the left side was clean, she leaned over and moved toward the right. "My poor prince, scarred by beasts." She whispered, delicately washing away the sanguine hue from his skin.

When she had cleansed him, she stood up and returned the cloth to the bowl of water. Inspecting her task completed, she stepped back toward his figure. Leaning over him, she blew warm puffs of air across his arms, drying them, while errant strands of long hair tickled over his forearms. Capturing his face with her hands, she tilted it upward until her soft lips pressed to his forehead.

Few with little in the way of pride would engage in something so brave or crazed as with but one ship, attacking a fleet and seeking to rescue a captured princess from an unknown enemy. You needed a rather high opinion of yourself, to even countenance the possibility that such a thing had the slightest chance of working. For that matter, to be a prince and a warrior was to know the highest of expectations and the constant need to achieve left one either a disappointment or rather cocksure from past successes. While his words remain modest, some doubting portion of his mind now rejoiced that his foolish gambit had somehow prevailed against both the odds and reason.

As Ambrosia credited Aphrodite with guiding him to her, he could only smile. “I have no reason to doubt you in that. I was struck by how others spoke of you, and felt the over powering urge to free you. And now that I’ve seen you, not another thing enters my mind….if that is not the work of the love goddess I know not what is.”

“I do confess I barely know you..but I would change that.” He protested as she turned her face from him. He seemed puzzled by her suggestion that he was used to more beautiful women. “I’ve never seen any woman your equal.” He protested as his praise carried none of the forced modesty she’d chided him for earlier. As she stated that she’d clean his wounds he simply nodded to her in agreement.

He was easily led downwards to his slightly cramped quarters below in the ship. “Alright” he remarked as he rather compliantly sat upon the bed within. His legs draped over the side of it, as his large form settled upon it, sprawling somewhat.

He heard the tear of the silk that was wrapped around hr as she took a portion of it and then placed it in a bowl of water. He watched the princess kneel before him and soon felt the damp touch of that scrap of silk. There was something terribly pleasant about the way it was delicately touched against him and stroked over his rather weary form. Bruises to his arm and chest where the minotaur had struck him had began to form, and his shoulder protest rather vigorously. As she whispered of his suffering fighting beasts, he offered her a sheepish smile as he noted “I swear it was the door that put up the most valiant fight to bar my path. The minotaurs scratched me up and will leave a mark but gods that was a bloody solid door.”

Androkles felt her breath gently drying the water she’d stroked across him, before her hands cupped his face and her lips then pressed to his forehead. His head tilted up towards her as he breathed “I’d fight many more beasts for you. The gods could lay an army in my path, but if need be I’d fight them to the last man to see my way to you.” His eyes gazed at her as his hand sought to come to rest upon her hips.

The prince sought to pull her towards him as he smiled “Created by Aphrodite, I should say the goddess surely made you in her own image Ambrosia. I have never seen any lovelier, you said I should be richly rewarded for what I’ve done..then be mine. Touched by your goddess as I am, I will not nor could be satisfied with anything else.”

He spoke of her like she was a goddess herself, whispering sweet nothings about how no obstacle could keep him from finding his way to her. It was the sonnets of a lover, someone who had spent his entire life pining for her instead of the reality that he could hardly even be infatuated by her. She wondered if it was really him speaking or if Aphrodite had given him some sort of potion to make him act this way towards her. Maybe the deity had plans for Ambrosia that involved the aiding of this man.

Secluded behind her high castle walls, Ambrosia had escaped the poems of lovesick men, though she knew well that others had thought her fair. The men upon the Aeginan council had often scolded Kleitos for not finding her a suitor, though the old man had not taken a wife for himself either. Many nights Kleitos had asked her opinion of a marriage, but she had always replied that she did not wish to be forced into an arrangement. Instead, she wanted to find someone whose caring feelings were mutual. Unlike any other ruler, the old man had honored his sister's wishes.

"My prince, surely you do not wish to battle more of those creatures any more than I wish to be at their mercy." Lips twisted into a grin of bemusement, eyes dancing across his face. She felt his hand settle on her hip, holding gently to her body as if he wanted to keep her close to him but would not refuse if she chose to walk away.

Her hands raised in the air, hovering hesitantly over his head. Slowly, she slid her palms into his hair, fingers weaving through the locks. "Tell me what it is that you truly seek, but do not be hasty in your words." Every action had an equal and opposite reaction. There was lust in his eyes, that was undeniable, but did he truly know what he was doing or what he wanted? Men were to tread lightly with a princess as nothing was ever without consequences. Perhaps he wanted her throne or maybe he just wanted to claim his prize for daring to rescue her.

Ambrosia did not want fake promises or the guise of a smile behind a shallow facade. If all he wanted was to take her body, she wanted him to say it; speak his intentions. Standing amidst his embrace, the ship rocked awkwardly and so forcefully that her hips thrust inward, the flatness of her abdomen smashed against his lips. She remained motionless, her fingers still lost in his hair.

Keeping her body melded to his, she slid down to her knees. Fingers trailed from his hair, down his cheeks, over his broadened shoulders, across his rippled torso, and down to rest on the surfaces of his thighs. Chest rose and fell in heavy motions, the curves of her bosom straining against the frailty of the fabric hugging her curves. Face tilted, cheek resting against the smoothness of his leg. Eyes closed, letting the night wash over them.

The meddling of the gods confused almost any issue. Yet divinely affected or not, being male the cling of that silk wrap about her as it displayed the supple curvature of her form, ripe with sensual promise alone had been enough to spark lust within him. The high opinion of others, and her own actions as yet sufficed to spark a deeper desire. Surely the King would not have been forcibly convinced to abandon his sister is she had not lacked the sweetness of temperament that was ascribed to her.

He grinned slightly as she said that surely he didn’t wish to battle further creatures, as one of his hands rested upon her hip the other rose to brush against her face. His fingers strayed across that soft cheek as he remarked “I’ve no desire to fight any more of those creatures, but I should do so gladly had I need to for your sake.” He’d let his fingers toy with a few strands of her hair as he felt the closeness and warmth of her body as she leaned up against him.

His eyes locked with hers as he felt her fingers slipping into his hair. His intentions were queried and he looked at her thoughtfully for a moment. He leaned in towards her as he sought to let his lips gently brush against her own once more. “I told you earlier there is little in the world for which I want. I shall be a king in my own right soon enough. I’ve graced to owe some of the finest horses and command some of the finest cavalry known among Greeks.” His eyes regarded her rather seriously as his fingers trailed along her side. “I’ve been utterly spellbound from the moment I saw you. You are the most gorgeous creature I have ever seen.” A smile graced his lips as he remarked “While you claim that the goddess of love merely created you – you look as though you are she given flesh, or so I would imagine her to look in mortal form.”

He paused briefly as though realizing he was saying quite a lot but had yet to really address the point that she’d wished him to address. His head tilted in towards her own, remaining but a breath from hers as he remarked “My intentions are this – I shall be a king and from the moment I saw you I wanted no other to be my queen. I would lie if I said I didn’t want to lay with you tonight, for every fiber of my being craves at this moment to know you in that fashion. But I would not just have you tonight, but I would that you were mine for every night thereafter.”

The ship seemed to provide a reminder that they were at sea not in some secluded corner of a palace. He felt her body rocked into him with the lurch of the ship, and the brush of that soft form against him was pleasant. He felt her body soon settling across his lap, that soft feminine form pressed against him. The brush of her bosom and the softness of her cheek resting against him, as his hand was left to idly play with locks of her silken hair. Her chest was not all that would strain against the fabric above it. With the nubile princess draped across his lap his mind drifted into rather puerile consideration of what she could be doing with her lips in such proximity to his groin. He’d spoken of his desire for her, but as she lay against him it would be felt.

His fingers were so lax in her hair, calming and lulling her into a trance of serenity. It had been weeks since she had felt any sort of comfort, the woman having to constantly be on her guard while wrapped in chains. Kleitos had run his kingdom far differently from any other Greek ruler. While they sought out beautiful wives to produce heirs, he had simply intended his sister to take his throne when he was gone. Though outraged that a woman would rule Aegina, his council said nothing. Now with Aegina fallen to the enemy and the ashes of her land becoming a distant memory, it suddenly struck Ambrosia that perhaps she was meant for a greater destiny.

Feeling reassured by his intentions, her face lifted from his leg. Dainty hands reached for his knees, gently prying them at an angle for which the princess could press her body between. Waist was captured between his thighs, the evidence of his lust brushing against the white fabric adorning her body. "I am a Princess of Greece." She spoke boldly, using a more stern voice than he had ever heard from her. "I only wish to be treated as such in a manner of respect. I will not be reduced to a common whore," she paused, letting her words weigh on his mind, "but my body shall be yours if you can promise I will never become as such to you."

The voice of Aphrodite seemed to reverberate in her ears as if guiding Ambrosia to what she needed to say. There was no marriage obligation between Androkles and herself, but as a child of the goddess of beauty, love, and fertility that didn't seem to matter. Using the moonlight as her torch, Ambrosia leaned her face toward his. Her sweet breath lingered across his mouth, lips nearly touching. Tantalizingly slowly, she inched toward him until the softness of her tender mouth pressed upon his own.

Slender arms encased his neck, folding across each other to gently hold him to her. Lips parting, she carefully traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue before the nimble muscle drove inward to capture his. It did not stay long, however, as it was meant as a preview of what she could do. Breaking the kiss, she pulled back and stood in front of him.

The light shone on her sultry form, giving him the chance to bask in her physical glory. Taking a step backward, breaking all touch, she lifted her hand to beckon him forward. Though Ambrosia had solidified his claim and initiated the first steps to intimacy, as a modest woman she simply could not will herself to claim him. Instead, she would let it play out as it was meant to be. "Come then, sweet prince, and claim your prize." She whispered, standing still before him.

Androkles was rather conventional in his princely ambitions. He sought glory in battle, fame, riches, naturally suitable female companionship and to perpetuate his line. Although he was perhaps more bold in his pursuit of those ambitions than others, given that he’d first sailed off almost on a whim to rescue a princess he’d never met. Only thereafter to find himself utterly fascinated with her. Fate worked in strange ways that were occasionally beyond one’s control

He felt that slender form pressing between his legs as she stated she was a princess and would not be reduced to a whore. He leaned in towards her and let his forehead rest against her own as his hand would stroke against her cheek. “I know you are that. I would not disgrace you.” His fingers lingered against her as he murmured “I would not save you only to do that to you.”

He felt the warmth of her breath and then felt the softness of her lips pressing to his own. His mouth returned her attentions, those firm lips meeting her own and locking against them. He tasted the sweetness of her kiss and as her arms slipped around his neck his own arms circled her waist. He pulled her in towards him as he felt the touch of her tongue as it stroked over his own. A smile graced his lips and then a briefly puzzled look crossed his features as she pulled away from him.

But she stood there looking entirely seductive as she beckoned him to her. Nor was the prince the sort that needed to be invited twice to claim his prize. He rose to his feet and stepped towards her. Androkles’ eyes would meet hers, those dark orbs gazing directly into her own. Hungrily his mouth pressed to hers, kissing her rather passionately as his body would come flush up against her own. The hard muscular planes of his body created the perfect contrast to the intoxicatingly feminine curves of her own. He kissed her and his hand strayed along her side.

His fingers would toy with the silk that was wrapped about her body. His fingers slide along the garment, finding where it was fastened about her and then slowly drawing it free from her form. His lips lingered against her own, but as he drew the silk away his mouth would drift across her cheek and thereafter press to her neck. There his mouth drifted along the graceful arch of her neck, feeling her soft skin brushing against his lips.

His hand slipped to his own waist, his belt was undone with one hand and it slid down to the floor. He kissed her lips gently before he drifted back briefly to let his hands raise his tunic upwards and bare his own form in the process. He tossed the garment down to the floor then stepped that half inch closer to her. His hand moved to the back of her head, tilting her head towards his own as eagerly his mouth would press against her own. His body pressed to hers and she’d feel the brush of that strong form and the press of his stiffened cock against her belly.

His lips parted from hers as he let his hand stroke against her cheek. “I’ve changed my mind Ambrosia.” A pause and a mischievous smile graced his lips before he murmured “You are not a princess of Greece but surely a goddess.” With that said his arm slipped about her waist and he slowly lowered her down to the bed, with his own form coming to lay atop of her. His weight settling upon her as his eyes would meet her own. He kissed her lustily, his lips hotly pressing to her own. “My goddess.”

He settled atop of her, and his form would press between her thighs urging them to spread apart as his hips pressed between them. The thick head of his cock would press to the softness of her sex, its tip drifting along those soft lips and lingering for an agonizing moment upon the verge of penetrating her. As though he hesitated simply so that he was sure he would recall what would follow. Then his hips rocked down into her own, pressing her to the soft mattress beneath as his tip would part her lips and the broad form of his aroused member would plunge down into her. His body molded to hers as they joined at the waist, his prick thrusting inside of her as his lips claimed hers once more.

As if sealing the physical contract between them, his mouth molded to hers with an undeniable passion. She allowed her emotions to pour through the kiss; bitterness and melancholy mingled with sweetness and lust. He had spoken that he would not dare to disgrace or degrade her, and while he kissed away her doubts she knew that she whole-heartedly believed him.

His hands glided skillfully along her curves, finding the small pin that scantily held that piece of garment together. Tugged free, the fabric was so airy that it floated across the room and away from her body. Both heat and chill lapped at her bare form, the chill of the night mixing with the heat their flesh had provided. Never before had she been so exposed to a man, her flawless features there for his taking.

Lips grazed down the hollow of her neck, tenderly caressing her soft skin. The softest sound was elicited from her lips, flowing out into the still air. Lost in the moment, the clang of the belt on the floor startled her, causing her to jolt in his arms. Oceanic eyes tilted toward his face, catching the outline of his arms raising high into the air and pulling his tunic away from his chiseled chest. Contradictory, her nervous yet confident hands lifted toward his naked torso. The softness of her palm and fingertips lay feather-lightly against the hardened structure. She did not make any motions, but simply let her hands rest upon him.

Kiss after kiss was returned with equal fervor, both accepting and embracing this twist in fate. Voicing that he had changed his opinion, the princess froze, terrified of what he may say. Oh but how he knew how to flatter her, whispering that she was not a royal mortal but an immortal deity as her name suggested. She said a silent apology to Aphrodite in case her loving mother was offended, but she knew she was not.

Strong arms easily turned and bent her toward the bed. Ambrosia felt like gravity had abandoned her and instead of her body being lowered to the linens, she felt like they had risen toward her. Though the lighting was shallow at best, she could see the darkness of his orbs penetrating her light gaze, capturing her line of sight. Her eyes he steadily held as he settled his weight upon her delicate form.

Knees bent at an angle, slowly spreading to accommodate his lower half. Heart fluttered in her chest, a sheen of perspiration breaking across her frame as she tried to mentally prepare herself for what came next. She could hear the steady rhythm of her vital organ pounding in her ears, setting a musical atmosphere that she wondered if he could hear, too. Air stilled in her lungs, her hands lifting to drape across his broad shoulders. At his slight hesitation, Ambrosia simply nodded, acknowledging that he had permission to continue.

With little warning, she felt the thickness of him surge forth, penetrating her untouched body. Ambrosia let out a timid cry, her body reacting from the shock. Fingers flexed, nails scraping down into his skin before relaxing and straightening across his back. Letting herself adjust, she arched her narrow hips to him, setting forth a gentle rocking motion. She could feel his driving-force, his hunger settling over her mouth again as he infused his body with her own.

When foolishness that hazarded your life needlessly was successful it was heralded as bravery. And now that bravery was being rather richly rewarded. He’d been fascinated since he lay his eyes upon her, and now he settled atop of her and his eyes drank in every inch of that nubile form. Her tantalizing shape and the softness of her skin beneath him only seemed to confirm his suggestion that nothing mortal could be so lovely. His hand rested upon her thigh, it drifted downwards towards her knee before rather firmly traveling up back towards her hip. His finger slipped over her smooth form and stroked over skin that rivaled her silken garment with its softness.

Anticipation swelled in him as his body touched against her own. The desire to possess her having been almost obsessive in his mind since his eyes had strayed over that form for a lingering moment. He’d seen her nod as though to acknowledge that she desired for him to continue. Although part of him wonder how much she was willing, and how much she felt obliged to him for saving her from a horrible death.

Doubt however, was something that vanished from his mind as he felt his shaft slide into her. He found her warm and tight, and as his hips pressed down into her the head of his cock encountered that telling wall of hymen and tore through it. Her cry sounded in his ears as he claimed her innocence. The thick form of his prick stretched that narrow passage as he filled her, the trickle of blood proclaiming her innocence acting to ease his entry deeper within.

He felt her body arch and her hips rocking up meet him. His own form kept a rather steady downward pressure. His body lay atop of her, its weight pressed downward against her, although his form shifted with the rise and fall of his hips. The sinuous motion of his waist brought his stiffened cock to bear upon her. The primal mechanics of thrusting inwards and upwards, to press himself within consumed him. Desire was written in his eyes and his mouth traded kisses with her relentlessly.

His hand drifted along her thigh and upwards towards the curve of her ass. Greedily his fingers squeezed upon that pleasant rounded swell. He buried his cock inside of her. Ever seeking to plunge himself more fully within her. The feel of her taught slit about him caused pleasure to race through him, the touch of her skin and the feel of that rocking form beneath him stimulating him like nothing else. His eyes met hers for a moment “You’ve not lain with a man before.” A smile graced his lips as he kissed her cheek “As I am the first, I hope I shall be the last.” He teasingly smile to her as he kissed her, the rock of his hips pressing his cock further inside of her, letting her feel its steady throb within her.

It was the most minimal of touches that made her feel so alive. The caress to her knee and slip of his finger across her body electrified her, igniting a fire she never knew she had. His simple touch felt like thousands of tiny sparks awakening her senses, alerting her of her present. Gone were the unfamiliar men and terrifying beasts, only to be replaced by a man who put her on a ship to be cradled at sea.

As tradition, it was a man's duty to claim a woman's innocence as his own. There had been many that had wanted that role, but Ambrosia had refused them all. It wasn't that she was prudish, but she didn't believe that anyone should have that type of possession over her in such a casual way. Androkles had earned it, setting sail into a foreign land just to free a woman he had never even met. He had risen above and beyond the duties of a prince and warrior, and thus with the gentility of his actions, Ambrosia had decided he had earned her as well. It was slightly out of moral obligation that she let him lay upon her, but it was mostly because she had seen a truth in his eyes that few ever held. He was a hero, true, but he was a sincere one at that.

Feeling the warmth of her own blood gathering below them, the ties that had bound her to her adolescence had finally been severed. Though she had been a remarkable woman of maturity for many years, it was this act that officially carried her to adulthood. Though she was ripening before him, raw and exposed, there was a voice in the back of her mind that ushered her what to do. It was small and meek, and she knew that the rest of their actions would have to be discovered between them.

His hand trailed over her thigh, seeking out one of her firm globes. As if to allow his hand to rest more easily there, she lifted that leg free from the bed. The pads of her small foot lightly pressed upon his lower back, creating a new angle of depth in which he could penetrate her. The sharpness of pain that had occurred in her core was subsiding into a dull ache, a sign that surely this was meant to take place.

He slowed his assault on her lips before breaking it completely. Voice tickled over her ear, pronounced and confident as he declared -not questioned- that he was the first man to ever engage in this level of activity with her. It made her more nervous, yet she trusted him completely. "You are the first and you shall be the last if that is what you truly desire." His lips grazed her cheek in a reassuring manner, almost affectionately so.

She could feel the weight of his hips shifting down on her, growing more in mass as the stiffness inside her plunged more deeply. It was the oddest sensation, this feeling of pain and pleasure all wrapped into one. Involuntarily, her hips knew to keep tilting upwards to meet him and each time they did, she could feel him invade her more thoroughly. Soft moans of enjoyment lifted from her mouth, the noises hovering above them. Her chest arched upward in erratic patterns, the sounds of her breathing becoming audibly more ragged.

He found her soft to the touch. His fingers drifted across her skin and that tactile sensation fascinated him. He let his hand stroke over her thigh as his fingers strayed along her. A smile gracing his lips as his lips pressed to her own. His mouth claimed hers, as he coveted the warmth and dampness of those pillowy lips. Each kiss proved the reward he craved most in that particular instant.

Androkles had not entirely realized what he had desired of her earlier. Perhaps he’d simply been unable to expect that such beauty had been denied the attentions of men, as he’d found it siren like in its effect upon him. But now as their bodies pressed together, and he felt the warmth of that slender form beneath him as the cool sea air would brush against their coupled forms. As their bodies tangled, limbs woven together in the act he marveled at his good fortune for not only did he claim her but her innocence as well.

His form was a large one, with those brawny limbs powerful in their own right. His capacity for violence so aptly demonstrated in dealing with those monsters which had beset her. It would have been so very easy to loose himself in his hunger for her body. Those ripe curves and her acquiescence tempted him to recklessly indulge the lust that burned within him. But he felt his member slick with the blood that bespoke that her innocence had been sacrificed to his wants. He had no want to frighten or hurt her, thus he was the very soul of gentleness as he coupled with her. Later was another matter entirely.

His hand had strayed upwards to grope the one half of that tight heartshaped bottom. His fingers pressed into it and squeezed rather firmly. He felt compelled to tell her that she had the most perfectly shaped ass he’d ever seen. But some wiser portion of his mind that hadn’t entirely given itself over to the joys of the flesh managed to convince him that while a valid point it should likely be commented upon later, as it was unlikely to be what she wished to hear at that precise moment. He’d felt her leg drift upwards to rest upon his lower back, as the angle shifted his hips rocked in to her. He pressed his cock deeper inside her. His cock was hard and throbbing now with each and every penetration. Its blood engorged form parted the softness of her slit and delved into her velveteen folds.

As she stated that he was the first and would be the last if he wished it so, he nodded to her in a rather serious fashion. He gaze at her a moment and then kiss her full of passion as he simply said “Yes, that is what I desire.” His eyes gazed down at her as he lightly bit her lower lip playfully as he murmured “Then you are mine, and I am yours.” Evidently that settled the matter for him.

As their bodies moved in that sensual grind, one pressing to the other he felt her form beginning to move more urgently. His form locked with hers at the waist, the steady downward roll of his hips, thrusting that stiffened cock inside her was met with the upward buck of her hips. He heard her soft moans filling his ear and grinned in response. His hand tightened on her side as his own pace began to increase. Into the grapes of those soft folds he’d ram that pulsing prick. Its rigid form was pumped fully inside her, letting it fill her again and again. He reveled in the feel of her about him, and pushed his manhood inside of her. A touch more forcefully he’d claim her, his hips meeting hers more firmly and insistently as his pace grew quicker. His hips smacked into her as his mouth sealed about her own, kissing her as he buried his member within her, knowing soon that his claim to the gorgeous woman beneath him would be rendered as his seed would fill her belly.

As her hips undulated against his, she felt as though his body was like a cage hovering protectively over her own. His arms were strong and defined, settled against the delicacy of her ribcage as he easily kept his frame propped so that he didn't crush her beneath him. How small she seemed in comparison to his bold physique. Her lithe arms trailed down the length of his hardened back, palms smoothing out the skin. She could feel the gold of her bracelets drag across his body, the coolness of the metal in contrast to the warmth of her touch.

As he nonchalantly proclaimed that she was his and he hers, Ambrosia's eyes drifted to his darkened gaze. She wondered what expression her rich eyes held. Did they betray that she was terrified and filled with frail nerves for the unknown or did they boast courage and nurture like she had hoped? Hands retracted from his back, ten fingers reaching to weave into his thick, unkempt locks. Soft fingertips massaged his scalp, nails raking lightly against his hair.

Lips sought to break free from his, pressing fleeting kisses across his strong jawline. Down to his ear her mouth would graze, warm breath exhaling against the canal. "My body has never known such ecstasy until now, these feelings completely new to me." She whispered, letting the breathy tone was over him. Earlobe was captured between her smooth lips, head retracting to tug lightly on it before it was expelled from her mouth. Tongue reached the soft zone behind his earlobe, the rough surface licking a long line down to his neck. Burying her face in the curve of her shoulder, she grunted as she felt his hips rocking more forcefully. Jaws set apart, teeth clenched down on the deliciousness of his neck, clamping with a gentle harshness.

Almost as soon as her teeth had attacked his supple skin, they relented. Feeling bad for the unintentional wound, her tongue lashed out to soothe the ache with the dampness of her saliva. Apologetically, she kissed it before sliding her mouth down his shoulder.

By now, the two were moving at such a hastened state that she could feel the bulge of his sac slapping against her body, stinging her with every motion of contact. Hips bucked erratically, sending ripples up her toned stomach and toward her firm breasts, causing them to bounce between the barriers of his torso and hers. The leg still resting on the bed lifted to join her other, her long limbs completely wrapped about his waist. Feet hooked across each other to keep from unraveling the pretzel, closing the final gap where his body separated from hers. Instead, the two found a common unison and rolled as one.

Chin was forced back as his lips once again closed over hers. The plushness of her bottom lip quivered against his mouth, urged by a spasm that was beginning to break out from her head to her curling toes. The olive hue of her complexion flushed to a scarlet, head spreading out and gathering to her center. "I feel strange." She whispered, breaking the airtight seal of their kiss. "Like I need you all the more."

Androkles did gaze down into Ambrosia’s eyes, and they did appear slightly wide to him. But he smiled to her in a rather reassuring manner as he was quite aware it was a rather new experience for her. Although if the woman was missing a beat do to nerves he’d yet to notice it, she seemed to lack no in adventurous spirit in that regard. The feel of her fingers pressing into his hair and massaging his scalp caused a rather pleased murmur to escape his lips.

He felt the rain of kisses pressed to his jaw and grinned to her as he remarked “It would be hard to know of such a thing if you’ve never done it before.” He sounded faintly bemused and if nothing else he soon found out that Ambrosia had rather good instincts if no experience as he felt her mouth close around his ear and her tongue thrust into it. A gasp of pleasure parted his lips. “You learn quick..” He felt her biting into his neck and grinned as it sent a bit of shock through him as she gnawed on his nape.

As the pace of their coupling heightened, he’d feel the erratic rock of her hips and her legs tightening around him as they both wrapped about his waist. Thus he was drawn deeper within her and he’d use the pull of her legs about him to ensure that with each thrust he was lanced fully inside of her. He let his lower body rise upwards slightly as her legs tightened around him, thus letting his hips crush downwards into her as with each thrust he’d seek to wedge himself deeply inside. So that he filled that taunt virginal sex with the throbbing form of his cock. His fleshy pillar of masculinity rammed inside her tight passage as he rutted between those sweet thighs.

He felt her body beginning to twitch beneath him as a flush graced her skin. He offered her a rather indulgent smile as he kissed her lips as he remarked “Then you shall have me all the more – and it’s how you’re supposed to feel.” His pace would increase markedly as she seemed to be pressed to the verge of orgasm. His hips smacked down into her in a fury of activity. Thrust after thrust being laid into her rather intently. He’d pump his cock in and out and in and out of her again and again. He filled her with his cock and plunged the depths of that soft sex. His hips churned into her, taking her and making her his own with their possessive barrage.

He felt his seed beginning to grow heavy in his loins as he fucked her. Lust was raging through his veins and was written in his eyes every time he so much as looked at her. The clinging of her body and the spasm of her form would slowly begin to stoke the fire that burned within him. His balls would ache and feel a heaviness building in them as he pumped himself into her. His mouth would close about her own, kissing her passionately. His lips parting from hers to murmur “I need you so badly ..”As want and lust built up within him, he did indeed need her in the worst sort of way.

For a moment, her thoughts drifted away from the present scene. She relived the past two weeks of her life, starting with the breach to her home and ending with him writhing atop of her bronzed physique. Every moment was surreal, from the bleak seconds that seemed to be her last to the exuberance she was feeling at this very moment. It was a turn of events she never could have seen coming, a vast change in the stars in the sky.

His voice was loud as it broke through her quiet thoughts, pulling her back into the chamber of this ship with him. He was eager to praise her for the minimal skills she had exerted, which greatly delighted the Greek princess. It had her wondering, though, how it came to be that such new instincts had felt so right in their naturalism, leaving her utterly astounded. The culprit behind it had to be beautiful Aphrodite who silently urged the pair onward, wanting this union as much as Ambrosia and Androkles did.

It was evident he was a skilled lover, perhaps taking many women before her. The thought did not perturb her, however, as much as it comforted her in knowing that she was the only one between the two of them who lacked in her knowledge of a sexual nature. He seemed to take note of the changes in her body, increasing his speed and pressure in a manner that accommodated her aching body better.

It was a comfort to hear that what she was experiencing was natural; her body was not betraying her by denying her new rights as a woman. Each stroke served to send energy throughout her body, increasing the spasms that were claiming her fleshy vessel. "I feel warm." She stated, wanting him to know every emotion she was feeling. "Hot, like you have ignited a fire in my body. The flames burn and lick at my depths, only feeling satisfied each time you bury yourself within my very core." She paused, her head rolling back on the soft pillows beneath her shoulders.

"My body is raging and out of control!" She proclaimed, her sultry tone ragged and desperate. "I feel I shall erupt into a million molecules of dust and scatter about this very room." Ambrosia didn't intend to be so verbal, but once she started speaking she found she simply could not stop. Oh, but his mouth knew better ways of silencing her, folding across her mouth and ceasing her tongue's endless motions.

He claimed his need of her body, parting so that her lips were free again. Her hands trembled mercilessly, lifting to grasp his wrists that were perched on either side of her body. There was a steady flow of warm liquid rushing between their bodies, gathering and dripping down onto the mattress. Back arched upward, breasts smashing against the stone of his chest. Head lifted from the pillow, nose burying itself in the comfort of the curvature of his shoulder. A series of endless noises fluttered against his flesh, her only manner of stating how much she needed him in that moment, too.

Finally, she was able to calm herself enough that unsteady words were formed. "Then use me to your will, Androkles. Let me serve you in whatever manner you need." She whispered, placing a tender kiss to the side of his neck.

Androkles was a prince – and while a princess was likely to guard her virtue somewhat jealously, needless to say that no such standards were applied to their male counterparts with any frequency. He certainly had some experience although it seemed unlikely that she’d ever really know much about that aside from perhaps benefiting from his prior practice. He did pay rather close attention to her body, how it felt, how she reacted and what she expressed with respect to what he was doing. It was easy to predict a response to certain things but he knew well enough that she would respond to things slightly differently than any other for everyone had their peculiarities.

He heard her describing how her body felt warm and seemed to burn as he pressed himself into the depths of her sex. He’d nod to her as his lips would consume her own in a kiss. A mischief look crossed his face as he said quite simply “Good, if you felt icy cold I’d be doing it wrong.” His body lay atop of hers, that muscle form astride her. His body shifted to let his hips vigorously pump his thick, throbbing cock into her. He crushed his hips down into that lithe form, pressing deeper with each penetration as he sought to slake the lust that she caused to burn within him.

He grinned as he heard Ambrosia relating in a rather earnest if excited manner that she felt like she was about to explode. He found her manner of relating that particular sensation utterly adorable. His lips pressed to hers as he kissed her rather hotly. She did seem an entirely perfect girl – utterly sexually desirable but so sweet and pleasant of disposition that he could find no flaw in her. As she stated she felt upon the verge of explosion, his hips churned into her. His hips smacked into that slender form, roughly driving his body down against her own. With each meeting of their bodies he stabbed that cock inside her, letting it press within her sex as it formed a fleshy sheath for his manhood.

He felt her tremble and then the gush of her fluids as they washed over his prick. He’d feel the flinch of her sex about him as her body arched and she made those eve so delightful feminine noises of pleasure. His thrusts inside her were coming in rather deep and even strokes, he press into that trembling form as the warm honey that slickened her channel eased his entry within her. He pressed into that taunt passage as the friction that virginal entrance provided him was divine. His thrusting prick sought to prolong her fit of trembling as she experienced it for the first time.

She need not have invited him to use her as he would, for she’d excited such lust in him that when his seed grew heavy in his loins he was going to do that anyhow! For he could hardly restrain himself from the urges that now consumed his form. His hips began to move faster, churning against her and bumping more forceful into that gentle form beneath him. Steadily he’d bury his shaft inside her, his pace was quickening as lust was setting in upon him. He desired his own release with all its attendant pleasure. His blood raced through his veins as desire gleamed in his eyes.

Lustily his hips would collide with hers, his cock pistoning inside of her as he claimed her luscious form as his own. He grew slightly more wild as pure instinct had taken over, his mouth crushed against her own and his form was tangled with hers. Thought had deserted him, save the fact he wanted and needed her. He desired her and sought to slake that desire within the nubile flesh that lay beneath him. Her sumptuous form delighted him and with each hurried and heavy through he found himself closer to the edge. A deep thrust that buried his prick inside that soft yielding sex caused a groan to part his lips. A wave of blissful pleasure would flood through him as his seed would erupt inside of her. A hot thick jet of sticky semen sprayed within her. That creamy fluid pumped into her in strand after strand, washing over the soft walls of her sex and coating her with his pungent essence.

His seed spilled within her and his body would slow as a boyish grin would grace his lips. He looked down at her and kissed her. His hand stroking against her cheek as his claim was made upon her body in the most basic and ancient of manners. Perhaps sex made her a woman, but this made her his woman.

Her thoughts were gone from this ship, gone even from this realm and onto another plane of existence in which there was nothing but Androkles, Ambrosia, and carnal pleasures of ecstasy. This world was vibrant and beautiful, with bright colors and heated summer days. It was a place where utopia and euphoria coincided and walked hand in hand through life. There was glorious music played on harps and muses telling the tale of this prince and princess and just how this moment came to be.

His words tugged at the seams of reality, pulling her far away from her distractions and back into the warmth of his arms. She knew well that every movement executed was done excellently, even if she had no prior moments in which she could make a comparison. After all, as he had stated, neither of them felt icy but enveloped in a river of blessed warmth.

Ambrosia tried to laugh at his statement; she welcomed the humor. The melody of her laughter chimed against the noises of sweet rapture, creating a song solely unique to this virtuous woman. While her body trembled violently below him, her face was composed into an expression of sheer serenity. Teal eyes were soft and bright, flecks of moonlight dancing within them. She could feel the mists of perspiration glistening across her forehead and brow, beads of it threatening to spill down her flushed cheeks.

The more his hips bumped into hers, the more her body became an inconsolable mess. She felt as though she may fly out of the room if the very weight of his mass was not pressing her down into the bed. Every inch of her was clinging to him, unwilling to let go until either the very last drop of moisture spilled from her depths or she slipped away into the darkness of night.

His every movement became more urgent, almost like he was driven by the madness of desperation. He recklessly claimed her mouth repeatedly, as if driving up a white flag that she was to surrender and those plump lips would become his territory. Then, the mood seemed to become more intense as that guttural groan exited his lips and clashed heavily with her voice to form a radiant harmony.

Immediately following his cry was a stream of hot cream that coated and stuck to her inner walls. She could feel the steam permeating through her body, the rush of it assuring her that everything had gone perfectly right. Gaze paid heed to his face, watching as his expression of concentration became vacant before shifting into a smooth line of bliss.

It was then that his body slowed and her quivers subsided. His hand stroked her cheek in a comforting manner, as if willing her nerves to be stilled. Limbs became more relaxed, loosening their impossibly tight grip around him. Face reached for his, lips tenderly kissing his nose as he looked at her in a manner that assured her this would not be the last embracing moment for them.