After the week she had spent here, in the confines of Aetus’ home, Afroditi dreaded the idea of having to leave. The man had opened the lock to his heart and showed her a magnitude of emotions, and feelings that she couldn’t experience before, perhaps because he didn’t allow it. To her surprise, she found pleasure in the warmth that pulsated through him now, and needless to say, this break was exactly what she needed to recoup. As they sit on the porch, in their most primal forms, she watches him meander over into the open space in front of his house, leaning back in the chair, and watching the sky.

The wash of lilac that paints it beautifully, mixed with soft hues of turquoise, and pink complimenting each other brings her comfort. It was his doing, but it was beautiful, nonetheless, much like him. The man that she had uncovered had slowly become a part of her; it seemed, she missed him when he was away, even if for a moment, and her heart yearned for him, in a way it never had before.

As she sits and watches the sky, her brows furrow with a newfound realisation and she jolts up, eyes widening as she watches his back, isolating herself in her own mind, so much so, that she doesn’t detect the change that had ensued, unlike her, because usually, she never missed a thing. The smallest details wouldn’t get past her, it’s why she was so good at hiding from Ares, and Zeus. Though she loved her brother, their relationship was confusing, to say the least, always fighting, never outwardly expressing their love for each other, and always in disagreement. But they did agree on one thing;  Zeus was overbearing. He demanded control where he had no right to, and though they were fully grown, he still tried to influence their personal lives. Recently, he had been on the prowl for her, and she knew he would come soon, which is why she had stayed so long. This company was something she wasn’t going to have for a while, so it was only right to indulge while she can.

As Aetus makes his way back, she sighs softly, wrapping her fingers around his for a moment, before simply letting their hands touch, enjoying the simple connection and the current of power that rippled between them. She pulls him down so he’s also seated before leaning against his side, pressing a soft kiss to his shoulder; his voice, while soothing, didn’t take away her worries, and as a few minutes went by, he would surely break past the barrier of her mind and feel how unnerved she felt.

“I know. . .”

I don't want to leave you. . . not yet.

Her tone breaks the silence that she had let float around them, looking up at him, and biting her bottom lip worriedly. The sky would soon open, and if she were lucky, it would be her brother who found her first, to at least give her a warning of how bad the situation at home was.

She didn’t stop her heart against whatever desire grew between them, instead, it raced through her veins like wildfire and ignited an even bigger fire within her core, her muscles tightening around him as if they welcomed him home. Why were their bodies like two puzzle pieces fitting together? Every part of her moulded into his so seamlessly it took her to another world, one where she didn’t care about time, about sins, about angels or demons. One where her moans were the only thing that resonated in the thick air around him, laced with their passion, their frenzied pants, their breathless whispers. She forgot everything and let her body talk for her; the thrusts were slow at first, teasing them both with the sweet promise of release, but it got faster, harsher, quicker, fingers dug into skin until they drew blood, clasped around hair, traced up and down skin in such a frantic manner until she didn’t know what to do with herself.

When their lips met once more, it unlocked an animalistic need in her, her mouth welcoming the tip of his tongue with her own fight, twisting her fingers deeper into his hair, pulling him closer though it was physically impossible. She could feel what he felt as he poured his emotions into her mouth and down her throat, enjoying the lingering taste he left behind. When they parted and her eyes met his gaze, her orbs glowed with need, not surprised to find that his eyes mirrored the same heavenly desire.

Heavenly.

The harsher the thrusts got, the more he invoked an uncontrollable need in her tightening womanhood, covering his length in her sweet, sweet juices. Her thighs shook as he continued to push her onto the edge of this cliff they were both dangerously dancing on, and when she could no longer hold it in, she felt her release pouring from her, like the rain and thunder outside. She panted and gasped as her core pulsated around him, her heart hammering against her chest, ready to push past the skin that trapped it. Her spine curled forward and toes curled deliciously, body still trembling with her ongoing release. How long had it been since she had last let go? She didn’t even want to remember, she wanted to lock away the picture of the man in front of her right now, lifting her head finally to look at him, cheeks painted red as loose strands of hair stuck to the sweat on her skin, framing her face.

She realised the change in the air around them but hadn’t noticed when it had taken place; she wasn’t as observant as she usually was because she had let her guard down, finding it hard to swallow her slowly unwinding comprehension at the situation before her. The smile on her lips widened at her own thoughts; Aetues was a situation indeed.

He was strong and achingly handsome, and his words pulled at her heartstrings, biting her bottom lip when he takes her empty glass to place it on the table, finally taking his place next to her. She was happy and relieved to know his body radiated the same heat as her, scorching her, branding her, and when he pulled her onto his lap, she didn’t hesitate. Actually, the transition was easy, because it was natural, lips moulding with his, tongue dancing with his, and body fitting into his as if they were made for each other.

One night.

She wanted one night to unwind, to just let go and be free of responsibilities. She gave into the violent crackle of lust and bit his bottom lip, her arms coming to rest over his shoulders, the action bringing their bodies closer, forcing her chest to press against his, and his length to grind against her warmth.

Yes. God, yes.

Her tongue continued to penetrate his mouth, and she had selfishly stopped conversing, wanting the release that was slowly building up to be dealt with. After all, they had the whole night to talk; of houses, of her, of him, of past lovers, of time, and fate.

She began to rock her hips slowly, closing her eyes so she could travel to other dimensions, other worlds filled with breaking boundaries. Unable to restrain herself, she opened her eyes and pulled back, her breathless pants giving way to emerald orbs to dilate with this unearthly desire to be filled, to embrace what she wanted, no longer limiting herself. It was scary the way he had described her, but it had liquified her, knowing he would feel her, her folds and warmth telling.

His thoughts hung around her, like the soft tendrils of her hair, but they didn’t suffocate her and as she observed the soft wrinkle between his brows, she noticed the fleeting anger. It came from nowhere and went back to the darkness, replaced by a soft gaze, one she wasn’t used to, coming from him.

Aetus was a lonely man, the pictures that hung around his house and his desolate land a testament to that loneliness. It wasn’t just his land however, it showed even in the way they conversed. He was charming, that couldn’t be argued against but the awkwardness in his laugh highlighted that he hadn’t laughed with many women, that he didn’t hang around people often; he lacked certain social skills.

Afroditi was the opposite; she was a social butterfly, she knew how to flirt, she knew how to make conversation, and she knew how to entice and seduce men. It came with her curse, it was her downfall, but she didn’t hate her allure right now; instead, she revelled in it. There was something about the way he spoke of bringing her mindless thoughts alive; it made her stomach clench, the knot that had formed tightening when she looked around the room. Perhaps he would indulge in her whims and actually build her a house.

Her body warmed but it wasn’t because of the sparkling orange fumes a few feet away; hell, she would stay warm even if they opened the windows and invited the rain and wind in. The heat came from somewhere else, it was primal, and it scorched her skin. When he spoke of women coming and going, she found, to her surprise, something deep in her chest constricted.

She didn’t like it.

The emotion was foreign and unwelcome, and she couldn’t wrap her head entirely around it.

She thanked him with an incline of her head when he handed her the drink; it was unbeknownst to her that she mirrored his movements, and when he raised the glass and toasted to her new house, a flush painted over her cheeks before a beaming smile captured her full lips.

She glowed.

A house would be wonderful.

A house here, especially.

“To my new house,” she raised her glass, letting it clink with his before gulping the drink down, having not realised how dry her throat had been, welcoming the chilled liquid into her stomach, “and hopefully the only pale pink house that will stand here,” she put extra stress on ‘only’, her eyes brightening with an emotion she was all too familiar with, letting it cloud her emerald orbs.

Staying here tonight would be so dangerous.

But she didn’t care right now, she was having too much fun. Taking initiative, she poured drinks once more, raising her glass, “to new ventures,” she smiled a dangerous and delicious smile as she raised her arm, waiting.

“Maybe you’ll build me one so I could visit more often,” again, her voice is curtained by a thin veil of humour, lifting her brows in a playful manner as her gaze followed him around the house, a soft air brushing against her soft skin from behind her, having probably snuck in through the little cracks in the edges of the window. She continued as he added some wood to the fire, not letting her gaze stray from him, “I’d like a pale pink house,” now, a smile curled the sides of her lips up, “and each room should have a balcony.”

Her voice carried an air of conviction, and she spoke with confidence, “and I’d like a room just to paint in, maybe it could overlook a river so I could paint the sunsets, maybe even the sunrises.”

It was nice to dream, but it was nicer to just relax. The past few months had been hard on her family, she had blessed her many soldiers going into battle despite her fathers wishes not to, and was paying for it now; the battle between the two countries was still ongoing, after four months and it didn’t seem like it would stop anytime soon, and though Zeus claims he will not partake in this war, Afroditi knew he favoured the opposing side, the side he shouldn’t be on.

She had noticed the paintings hanging on the walls and when he retrieves the clothes for her, she takes them gracefully, standing and waving her hand to one of the portraits, “is that your work?”

A tilt of her head and she wraps her fingers around the straps on her shoulders, pulling them to the side to let the dress drop to the floor and curl around her ankles. She didn’t wear anything under the dress, because quite simply, she didn’t need to; she was so much more comfortable just wearing nothing in all actuality, but there were customs that perhaps, she should follow as she wasn’t in her own house and wasn’t entirely aware of what the man standing before her was and wasn’t comfortable with.

When she pulls the shirt over her head to find it reaches her thighs, she decides there is no need for the pants and places the item over the arm of the chair before taking her seat once more, next to him, leaning to the side so she’s facing him.

“And here I thought you had women coming in and going out as you pleased,” she enjoyed the jokes she exchanged with the man for she knew that his tongue was as witty as hers and she enjoyed his more warm and relaxed form, laughing with him when he joked about his family. She had only met one family member, a cousin of Aetus’, who had taken an appreciation to her, so much so that he had suggested if things didn’t turn out so well with Aetus he would be more than grateful to take her out.

“I brought you something by the way.”

She waves her hand and a bottle of Ouzito appears on the table.

“Now all we need . . . are glasses.”

[Howardini: awhh, thank you so much xD you're too sweet ♥]

Its amazing! I`d like to read more!

Lost within the flows of time, of each second that held each held their own universe of possibilities; of opportunities lost or taken, Aetus was unaware of the woman; but even this was false in that his conscious mind was unaware of what his subconscious mind knew; the mind that Saw everything.

A few seconds past for her when she finished speaking, a few seconds that seemed to span entire centuries for him as he pulled himself from his reverie.

His eyes opened slowly, looking upon the goddess with lids half-closed, 'I prayed for a beautiful woman and instead they sent me you...' His words held the same lightness that hers had, though perhaps ill-practiced. The tone almost uncomfortable coming from his lips given his usual demeanor of a glacier.

The old god's head tilted to the side as his eyes opened fully, taking in the woman moreso than before; enjoying the beauty that had decided to grace him. She stirred a hunger in him still, a certain fire that made his body long for her own; an ache that demanded to be sated but he knew it could not be done. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

'The rain should pass within a couple of hours, though it could go on all day.' The broad shoulders shrugged before he pushed the few strands of hair out of his face, slinging water back from the wet tendrils. 'I have a fire going within, if you'd care to join me. I was... unsure of your arrival but I keep spare clothing of all kinds. Unexpected guests are not uncommon.'

He frowned, knowing that he had invited her here to his own little world and that she wasn't necessarily unexpected. Again, his shoulders rolled in a shrug in answer to his thoughts. The Blackwood sighed softly and made his way towards the house, the faintest of frowns creasing his face as he felt the rain leave his body. He opened the door, watching the woman, taking in the grace of her movements; the bounce of her breasts and the sway of her hips. Movements accentuated moreso by the dress that clung so wetly to her body.

A storm raged outside; it was natural, of course, unless one of the Blackwood Gods was exacting their fury upon some poor fool mortal, or their own family. But, it was natural. That's all that really mattered to these mortals, and to the man who watched the storm from a window with eyes the color of glaciers and just as cold. But, even had this been a storm of the supernatural kind, this man wouldn't be very perturbed by its presence. He would merely sigh, like he did now, misting up the glass, and turn his head away, like now. As was usual, those cold, seemingly infinite eyes would stare at nothing; his ears twitching lightly at the patter of rain against the roof and the windows of the house. Slowly, those eyes would close, the body of the man relaxing against the wooden chair. And so, he slept.

The house was fairly simple on the outside; a simple, two story house. A front door, windows in the appropriate places, and a back door. From the outside, it looked homely, even going as far as to say cozy and warm. In a few aspects, it was. A chimney could be seen with smoke billowing from its top as a fire raged within at all times, it seemed: even in the heart of summer. But, despite this, the inside of the house stayed a warm that seeped into the bones, loosened the muscles, and drained the weariness from the body, replacing it with a comfortable exhaustion that leaked into the thoughts, the mind, and lulled it to sleep. A house that was unusual, but wasn't out of place in the surrounding forest; it didn't protrude or announced itself. It merely was.

Within the house, save for the fireplace, it wasn't quite as simple as the outside but there wasn't any extravagance to it. With five rooms on bottom and three more on top, with a basement and attic, it was fairly large. It was simply dressed with hand-made furnishings and cutlery --plates, cups, bowls, etc. Some had a few spots of a dark brown from the blood of their maker, who hadn't quite got the hang of carving with a knife. But, while this was all simple and fit in with everything around it, there was one thing that stood out like a sore thumb.

The man who rested in the wooden chair opened an eye, listening to the ticking of a clock he had made, one of the first few, but this one had seven hands, instead of two or three. The largest one didn't even more for the most part, as it represented years, though it did have small clicks as the second most largest, representing months moved, though it moved hardly as well; the third largest, representing days, moved a bit faster still; the next largest, hours, moving even faster. The second to last moved even faster being minutes; the last moved the fastest as it represented seconds. The clocks face didn't have numbers as the man didn't need them, but it was four different colors, each one a different color, each color representing the seasons of the year.

The man stared back out the window, the breath he had uttered long-since gone, both eyes opened as they stared, watching the rain run down the glass; within the window he stared at himself, though he avoided his gaze.

The man himself was fairly large: broad shouldered, deep in the chest, lean with hard muscle that slightly bulged; long in the legs and arm, though not an awkward lanky man by any means. Dark stubble grew from his face though it didn't hide the strong jawline and the slightly cleft chin. His features were sharp, angular with high cheekbones and somewhat deeply set eyes. His arms were tattooed with chains that wrapped around the arms, curling along the back of his shoulders and neck. The man was physically attractive, no doubt, but his demeanor put most women off, though some braved it, if only for one night. He didn't care if they stayed or went, though he might have a hand in why they left him alone or why they went away after a few nights, but it was only rarely did he allow himself to meddle, to steer the mortal women in another direction that wasn't his. And so, he lived alone.

Aetus Blackwood, the God of Time and the Blackwood of Fate, sat there, naked, in his house as he stared out into raging storm, pondering a pointless thought before he sighed again, misting the glass and got up. He walked to the front door and stood out on the porch, listening to the rumble of thunder and the pitter-patter of rain. With a few steps more, he was out in the rain, his long, black hair being plastered to his head, neck, face, and shoulders. His eyes closed and he lost himself in fury of the storm, body relaxing to the steady fall of water against his muscles.