Chapter 9 Ares #2
Deimos’s eyes are the first I see. His smile is wide, and he wiggles his eyebrows. I gaze up at Ares. His stare feels hungry. Heat pools low in my body.
“Bend,” I command.
Slowly, he bends to me, and I take my thumb and wipe my tinted lip gloss off his mouth. He catches my thumb between his lips and sucks it off. I inhale as his tongue swipes the back of my thumb.
“Again, presenting Mr. and Mrs. Kallistratos.” Hecate claps, along with Phobos and Deimos. Nisa wedges her way between Ares and me. She smiles up proudly at Ares.
“Now, can we please go eat? I smelled the food, and it’s great,” Deimos says as he rubs his stomach.
Hecate walks in front of us. “Just know this: tomorrow this will be in the news.”
Right, the news. Elias will see it and freak. It’ll be so bad. Panic begins to knock at my mind, and my hand squeezes.
“I have you, Little Flame.” Ares didn’t need to shout it to me, but once again, when I feel unstable, he centers me.
Hand in hand, we walk back into the house. I turn toward the bedroom to change, but Ares’ grip tightens, stopping me.
“Come with me.”
“What about the dinner?”
“They will be fine. I have something to show you.” He doesn’t have to drag me with him; I’m willing to go where he wants me to follow.
I’m married now. I stare at our clasped hands and this man…
Ares. He is my husband. Does he have flaws?
Yes, flaws I can live with. Then again, this is not a real marriage; this is for my protection.
It’s not like he’s going to fall in love with me.
I feel a small pinch at the thought of Ares not loving me.
“Almost there.” His voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Silently, we walk past rooms that I have grown accustomed to. We enter the library, and I close the door behind me. He drops my hand and moves to the bookshelf. He pulls three books, and a door springs open.
“Come.” His hand stretches out to me.
“This feels very Phantom of the Opera,” I chuckle as I place my hand in his.
“I do have the scarred face of the phantom.”
I stop just as I was about to step onto the top stair. “No. Your face is not like the Phantom's. You, Ares, are not a phantom. You are my husband.”
Ares says nothing as he holds my hand and walks me down a grey stone spiral staircase.
When we finally reach the bottom, a steel door blocks us. I feel anxious, wondering what he has behind this door. He leans forward, and a green light fans slowly over his face.
The heavy iron door hisses open. I shouldn’t be this excited to see this room. Suppose it was my new gilded prison?
As we step forward into a darkened vault, the air feels cool. I inhale the scent of cedar and aged wood.
“Lights on.”
I hold my breath as the lights snap on from the very depths of the room, coming closer to us.
I squint my eyes as I see glass cases with art pieces in them.
As the final set of lights clicks over my head, I stagger, looking at the first piece hanging on the wall.
I let go of Ares’s hand and walk slowly to the painting on the wall.
A Caravaggio glares down at me. The chiaroscuro is as deep as the day it was painted.
“Is…” I press my hand to my heart. “Is that a Degas sketch? I thought this was destroyed during World War 1.”
My fingers hover over the sketch. I walk further down the room. On a pedestal under a glass case, there is a broken bronze kylix that could be from Athens, based on the style of the kylix.
“My God, Ares.” I stop in front of what I think is an original Gustav Klimt. Then I move on. “Do you know what you have here?”
He doesn’t answer, but I hear his chuckle.
My hands tremble as I look over a painting of a tent.
I can see the back of a man and the dark hands of a woman wrapped around it.
On the floor, there is a discarded shield and spear and a trunk with a wolf pelt and a gilded mirror.
I feel like I’ve seen this before, but I can’t recall.
I am instantly distracted by the signature of Leonardo da Vinci.
It’s rare that you see his name on a painting, but research shows that when he loved a painting, he signed it.
I wish I had my equipment with me to check its authenticity.
But from experience…this painting is real.
ARES
Soraya moves from piece to piece. Her fingers hover over the cracked oil canvas, in reverence, as though she was handling a relic in a chapel.
Her eyes glow with each new painting or artifact that she discovers.
She’s happy. I made my wife happy. My wife.
I never called a woman that before. I never had the privilege of being someone’s husband.
As she talks, I look at this beautiful woman.
Her dark cheeks look rosy, her hands are animated as she talks about the history of a spear that I own.
I don’t tell her that I was there in the battle that she talks about.
I listen, relishing the way she describes the war.
She spins slowly in the room. “You’ve kept them alive. Out of light and dust. You preserved them better than any museum could.”
I smirk, feeling proud that she loves what I did. “I kept them safe. But I didn’t understand why until now.”
“For centuries, they have waited for someone who could see them the way you do.” I walk up to her, stepping into her personal space. “And I feel like. I have waited centuries for someone who could finally see me…us.”
She spins slowly in the room. “You’ve kept them alive. Out of light and dust. You preserved them better than any museum could.”
I smirk, proud that she loves what I did. “I kept them safe. But I didn’t understand why until now.”
“For centuries, they have waited for someone who could see them the way you do.” I step closer, closing the distance between us. “And I feel like. I have waited centuries for someone who could finally see me…us.”
Soraya smiles shyly. “This is beautiful. You did an amazing job.”
“Husband.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “Pardon me.”
I take another step; my voice is low. “This is beautiful. You did an amazing job, husband.”
She lays her hand on my chest. “Husband. But you don’t have to pretend for me, Ares. I appreciate everything you've done.”
I press her hand to my chest, holding it there.
“Ask here, Ares.”
My heart rate increases. What if she denies me? “What if I wasn’t pretending, and I wanted this…us to be real?”
Her eyes become glassy as tears gather. “You…you want us to be real? Like a real husband and wife?”
“Yes.” Both Aric and I feel like we’re both teetering on the edge of something vast.
A tear slips down her face. “I would love to be your wife. For real.”
“Then why are you crying?” I brush her tears away.
“Because you want me.” She laughs softly through her tears. “And that makes me happy, husband.”
I bend and whisper over her lips, “I will always want you, wife.”
She lifts on her tiptoes and presses her lips against mine. I grab her hip, pressing her against my erection.
“Ares, we have the reception, but can we?” She was already wrapping her leg around me.
“Fuck yes, we can, wife.” I kneel, throwing her leg over my shoulder.
She pulls the dress up from over my head. “Please, Ares.”
I lick my index finger, drag it down over her lace-covered clit.
“We have to make this quick.”
“Yeah.” Her body trembles as I pull her panties to the side. I don’t give her time to think.
I broadened my tongue, licking up to the clit, holding it between my lips. My two fingers create a quick motion, curling inside of her. One hand holds on to her ass as she wobbles. Her fingers grip my hair painfully. I love it. I feel greedy as I eat her pussy.
“Shit, Ares, please right there. Hmmmmm.”
I pull back and spit on the clit before sucking it harder into my mouth. Adding a third finger. The edge of her lace underwear grazes the side of my finger.
“Fuck it.” I pull back and tear her underwear right off.
“Just like that, I feel like I want to…”
I let go and stand quickly, holding her as she wobbles.
“What happened?” she asks, looking dazed.
I unzip my pants and take my cock into my hand. “The first time you cum as my wife will be on my cock.”
Soraya bites her lip. “Yes, husband.”
“Fuck me, that’s hot.” I lift her up, and she instantly wraps her legs around me.
“Should we go against a wall?” she asks.
I chuckle. “I am strong enough to hold you as you ride me. Now, wife, sit on my cock and come.”
Soraya locks onto my gaze as she slowly lowers herself onto me. We both gasp as she slowly reaches the hilt.
“Ride me, wife.” I can’t help but laugh.
She presses her lips against mine as she rides me.
Shit, was I strong enough to hold her up? Yes? However, I didn’t think about her making me weak in the knees.
“Shit, you feel amazing,” I whisper.
“Fuck me, please, Ares. Make me yours.”
I spread my legs and thrust into her faster. Her nails are digging into the back of my neck.
SORAYA
My pussy clenches around Ares. I feel happy, alive…full. The tingling in my spine tells me my orgasm is close.
“I am going to come, Ares.” I rock myself faster on him, trying to meet his thrust. The silk of my dress against my nipples creates friction. It feels like it’s spreading through my body.
“Come for me, wife. Cum all over your husband’s cock.”
I close my eyes tightly as the orgasm bursts through me.
“Shit. Yes, I am—” I break off as I drop my head into Ares’ neck to scream.
Ares’ hips thrust into me harder.
“Where do you want me to cum, wife?” Ares’ voice sounds strained.
Without thinking, I push away from him and drop to my knees with my tongue outstretched.
At first, Ares looks shocked, but his hand caresses the side of my face as he strokes his cock.
“Such a beautiful wife, look at you willing to take me on your tongue.”
I move his hand away and bob right on his head.
“Wife. Soraya. I am going…”
I open my mouth wider and send him to the back of my throat.
His fingers dig into my hair, and his body shudders. “Fuck, Soraya.”
He shouts, and I swear like both him and Aric are shouting at the same time. The creamy, salty taste shoots into my mouth. I moan as I swallow it all, enjoying his shuddering.
Ares pulls away and drops to his knees. “You’re trying to kill me, woman.”
He leans down and kisses me.
I smile, licking my lips. “Never…after all…I am your wife.”