Of Ambrosia and Stone: Pandora's Curse

25

When night came, Apollo fixed us another wonderful meal.

I’m still more than a bit shocked that he knows how to not just cook but cook well.

He damn near puts the chefs in his own palace to shame.

Walking out arm and arm, Apollo and I decide that tonight is the perfect evening for a bit of stargazing.

The wind was hardly blowing. The temperature was a cool but comfortable temperature. Especially when I can curl up against my own personal heater of a sun god if I get chilly.

Apollo sets down the drinks and spreads out the blanket. “Do you want pillows and blankets?”

“Yes, that would be great. Want me to run inside and get them?

“No,” he snaps his fingers. Blankets and pillows fell on the picnic blanket. “I got it.”

“Artemis says—”

“I know what my twin says,” Apollo pops the cork to the wine bottle. Pouring some in each glass. “But I don”t want anyone else”s name on your lips.”

Gods.

Why am I so nervous?

Laying back, we stare up at the sky.

Offering me a glass, I take a drink. The wine is bitter and not too sweet. I love good dry wine. “Are you familiar with the plants in the garden?”

Shrugging, he replies, “Not particularly. Typically, when I”m here, I”m hunting.”

Taking that as an invitation enough, I start prattling on about all the plants in the clearing. About their properties, uses, and symbols.

After several minutes, I watch as he eagerly tries to remember the various plants, but I may be throwing them at him a bit too quickly.

“Next time that you get on one of your plant kicks,” he grins broadly. His cocky smile is bright. “Remind me to come prepared with a scroll and a writing utensil.”

Smacking his chest, I scrunch up my nose playfully, “I didn’t realize that I had to slow myself down so that a god could keep up with me.” Giving him a teasing look, his eyes rest on me.

“Well now you know.” He grins as he pushes his shoulder into mine.

“Now I know,” I repeat.

“You have a love of plants that rivals Demeter and Persephone themselves.”

Turning to him, I smiled widely at Apollo, and he returns my gaze.

“I have a request for you,” he whispers as he leans forward, he kisses along my neck.

Hades help me.

“Anything,” I reply breathlessly.

“Soon, there will come a time, when I”ll need you to follow a prophecy.” His voice is low as his hand crawls up my leg. Closer and closer to my core.

My breathing hitches.

His fingers tease my hips. Begging me to open myself up to him.

“I have already told you that I’d follow your instructions,” I moan as his hand picks up the pace.

Spreading my legs wide, his fingers dance on my hips. “On that day, you’ll need to sit on the throne and wear a diadem which is a family heirloom.”

Mortals don’t sit on the thrones of the gods.

Is he trying to kill me?

Am I sentenced to death?

My brain buzzed with possibilities.

Maybe Apollo wants me to sit on the throne for a reason less dark. Perhaps I’m being too cynical.

Maybe he wants to make me his queen.

Gods, that might just terrify me even more than a death sentence.

My eyes shot open, “What do you mean? Are you asking me to marry you? This is going far too quick for me—”

“No, no worries, it’s part of what’s needed for the prophecy. We will take our relationship at a pace that’s comfortable to you,” Apollo assures me. Sighing, I melt back against him. “On that day, it will be to see how well you”re connecting to our world. Which I know you’ll do great. We’ve been prepping you since day one.”

“Prepping me?” I ask with heavily lidded eyes.

“The ambrosia. We’ve been steadily increasing your dose. It helps you to bind to the throne and the crown according to my oracles.” Pushing me onto my back he crouches over me. Hands in my hair. Pressing kisses onto my lips which I return. “What do you say? Save my court?”

Briefly, I think about my decision. Sitting on the throne or fleeing.

Placing a hand on his chest, I pushed him slightly, giving us space. “Has the others sat on the throne?”

“Yes.” His eyes were full of lust as they stared down at me.

I whisper, “And they turned to mud?”

Pushing back, I watched him as he responded, “Yes.” His facial expression changed from lust into sadness, “But I know that you”re the one. I can feel it. You”re special. Can you feel it?”

Closing my eyes, I concentrated on my gut and what it was telling me.

Leaning back up to his lips, I utter “Yes.” Pressing my lips back to his.

He asks me, his lips pressed lightly against mine, “Will you sit on the throne?”

“Yes.”

Apollo presses my back to the ground, grinding his hips into mine. “You”re such a gem. A treasure to me and the entire realm.”

His strong arms brace himself above me. Staring at each other for a couple of moments, I look from his lips up to his eyes. To act on impulse or to act on rationality, that’s the question.

Leaning up, we share a kiss.

Slow at first. Growing in intensity.

The wine in our glasses lay forgotten. There are more important matters to be taken care of now.

Throwing him backwards to the ground. My midsection squarely over his crotch, I held him by the wrists.

He almost sounded confused at how I could’ve thrown him down to the ground.

And I knew that I needed him.

Apollo’s eyes darken. Full of longing.

Grinning ear to ear, he asks me, ”What do you want me to do?” He rolls his hips underneath mine, I moan. Bucking underneath me, I grind my hips down on to him instinctually.

I rub my clit on his body through my clothes. Wordlessly signaling my answer.

”Careful sweet,” warns Apollo. ”You”re dangerously approaching territory where you can”t turn back from.”

Grinning back at him mischievously, I feel my nose crinkle. “Good thing that I have no intentions on turning back.”

With a deft twist of his arm and rolling his hips, suddenly I’m the one pinned to the ground, I feel myself being pressed against his lean and firm body. Gazing into his eyes, I leaned up toward his lips. As our lips brush, our bond feels warm. All feels right in the world. “I want you, Pan,” he whispers against my lips. “More than I have ever craved anything in my life “

Placing my hands roughly on his shoulders, I fumble as I awkwardly attempt to pull him closer. At that moment, everything felt warm and achy. Full of want and need. I moan, “Apollo.”

In that second, Apollo released me and let out a warm breath across my face and neck before his lips returned to mine. Huffing out a small moan, my eyes locked on his. Dragging his pants lower, he manages to kick them off.

“I need you,” he whispers.

Pulling me up to his arms, he wedged me between his body and a tree. The bark felt rough underneath my skin. As Apollo lips met mine, I felt myself burn with satisfaction and craved more. Rocking his midsection against me, I moan.

I needed this. All of this.

Again and again.

More kisses.

More Apollo.

More of this.

I”ll never tire from his touch.

As he dragged my skirt up to my waist, he drew what felt like constellations up along my thighs.

Pulling at his tunic ties at his shoulders, I wanted to feel more of his skin against me. When one was finally released, I worked at the other, he muttered into my ear with a dark husky voice, ”So impatient, my sweet.” Smiling with pure satisfaction, I drag my nails softly up his sides, feeling his muscles tensing underneath my touch. Even through his shirt, he is sensitive to my touch.

“Nephew.” The low rumble of Uncle Ov reaches my ears. Apollo and I jump, righting ourselves. Ov eyes look lazily over in our direction. Blood rushes to my face to which Apollo matches me. “It is time for you and Lady Pandora to return to the city.”

Apollo growls, “Uncle! Not right now. I”ll come back when I”m ready to return.”

“I know that you’re… preoccupied. But I wouldn’t be pulling you away from Lady Pandora without superb reasoning,” scolds Uncle. Dropping his voice low, Uncle continues, “The shadowy one has returned to the capital. We need you back immediately.”

Apollo tenses at the mention of the shadow one.

Swearing under his breath, he replies, “I”ll be right there.” His brow knits apologetically to me. “Time to go, my little sunflower.”