Heph: Modern Descendants 3, page 9
“Tell me what happened?”
“Hestia came to see me. She gave me permission to pursue you.” Her voice faltered. “Experiment, she said. She implied I would not be able to keep you interested unless I gave in to you.”
I wasn’t a fast thinker, so it took me a moment to collect my thoughts. Did Hestia think by giving her permission that Phyre and I would not happen? Did she foresee that I would turn Phyre down or did she predict Phyre would never proposition me? Was this some kind of motherly reverse psychology?
“Let’s start with the experimentation. Is that all you want? Do you want to see what you can do with someone? With me?” Could I be her toy? My immediate answer was yes. The afterthought was no, and my heart fell to my knees aching on the thin, rug-covered floor.
“No. I mean, I want to try things with you. I want to see how far I can go. But I only want to do them with you.” Her eyes remained downcast, and she bit her lip in the way I liked. The thick pad of my finger tipped up her chin. Her blue eyes shone like the deepest part of a lake, and I wanted to plunge in.
“Have you experimented with others?” I had to know. Who had she been with in the past?
“I…I’m not a virgin.” She shivered and swallowed hard at the thought. Her eyes closed briefly. I didn’t wish to bring haunting memories into this conversation. This was about us, not the past.
“That’s not what I’m asking. I want to know if there are other men in your life.”
She laughed bitterly and replied, “How?”
I understood her hesitant reply but after Lovie, I needed to know if there was any other. I nodded my understanding and my lips twisted, holding in a retort referencing Lovie. Again, this was not the past.
“Let’s start with the next thing. My interest in you. I can’t even measure the feelings I have for you. No tool exists to take the width of my affection or the length of my interest. I want to know you. All of you. When you are ready to share it with me.”
A slow smile grew on her permanently cherry-magenta lips.
“But…” Her smile drooped as I spoke. “I need to know, what is your interest in me? Is it only experimentation?” I couldn’t be used again. I had no doubt Hestia knew of the affair with Adara. She allowed it to happen, knowing it might fail, hoping it would fail. But for who? Me or Adara?
“I…” Her hesitation brought back instant memories of Adara rejecting me. I sat back on my hunches and hung my head.
“I feel safe with you. I trust you.” My head rose slowly to meet her wide blue eyes. “And the flame in me fizzles when I think of not being with you.”
Sitting upright, my hands cupped her cheeks. I’d startled her, and I cursed myself for my eagerness. I didn’t want her to snap and react. I paused, drinking in her eyes before lowering my lips to sip on her. Those fruit-flavored lips were the sweetest I’d ever tasted, and gentle sucking was not enough. My tongue slipped over her lips, savoring the taste like a child licking up the last of a delicious flavor, hoping to make it last as it lingered. Her tongue flicked out to meet mine, and the invitation ignited a blaze. Plunging forward, my tongue stroked over hers, sparking flint to rock and bursting into flame. Our mouths danced like the light around logs in the night fires. We lapped and we crackled, and the shells of our hearts cracked. I kissed her like I’d never kissed someone before—eager, anxious, and thrilled to experience her.
In our kissing, she had leaned back, and my upper body rested over her. My chest crushed her breasts, ripe and firm under the plaid blanket. My mouth fell to her jaw and trailed down her neck.
“Heph,” she moaned, and I continued to blaze downward.
“Heph, I…I…” Panic filled her voice, and I pulled back inches from the swell of her breasts. My hands rose in innocence, and I sat back to meet her eyes. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. I never even realized she wasn’t touching me. Our mouths melding and molding was enough.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Please,” I begged. “Please don’t be.” Her knees pressed on my sides, and I noticed the plaid blanket dressing rose, exposing long legs of china white. My eyes shifted to the space exposed to me.
“What are you wearing under there?” My head tilted, lips crooking in question. With eyes still connected, I lifted the plaid blanket to see a peek of bright Christmas red. She had on my underwear.
“Phyre,” I swallowed her name. “What else do you have on?”
“Nothing else…” She exhaled, and I sucked in the air. My eyes rolled back in my head.
“You’re killing me, Little Spark.” I flipped positions with her, swinging up to the couch and dragging her into my lap. Cradling her over my thighs, my hand reached for her ankle and stroked upward.
“The fire almost came, didn’t it?” My concern that I frightened her returned. Was the kiss too aggressive? Too suggestive? Could she sense how much I ached for her?
“When I feel out of control, I can’t always think like Hestia taught me. I forget to focus, but I tried this time. I didn’t want to burn you—I wanted to touch you.”
“Let’s try this,” I offered and held out my thick arm. Long sleeves were rolled to my elbows, exposing thick forearms marked by working with fire. “You take control again. Rub over my skin.” As I hadn’t experienced her touch in this manner before, the first tender brush of her palm made me flinch. The coarse hairs on my arm stood on end. She pulled back as if I shocked her, and I chuckled.
“I’m sorry. That was me.” I kissed the side of her head, hoping to encourage her to try again. The tips of her fingers tickled the thick hair on my arm. Like playing a piano, her fingers worked back and forth over imaginary keys, hitting each note as she stroked over me. My breath calmed, but my pulse raced. I could not control the length pressing into her hip. The tenderness of her touch turned me on like the dial of her flamethrower. The first twist and I burst forth, ready to create or destroy. In her case, I only wanted to design something never forged before.
Her fingers spread, and her palm flattened. Her eyes closed as she rubbed from wrist to elbow. She lifted her hand, and my eyes focused on her face as it came to mine.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she whispered with a trembling voice.
“I don’t believe you will. I trust you.” The words closed her lids and her lips parted as she cupped my cheek and let her nails scrape tenderly over my hairy face. Her cheek came forward, mouth smiling, as she rubbed her face over mine, enjoying the scratch of my beard. A subtle moan escaped. I wanted her mouth on me. I wanted so many things, but I would let her lead.
Her hips rocked, rolling against me, and I stilled under her.
“Heph, I…” Her breath hitched and her face released mine. “Hold my hands back,” she whispered, and she held them together in front of her at the wrist. I covered them both with one of mine and dragged them over her head. Arching her back, she pressed into me with the round of her ass.
“Heph,” she breathed, and my free hand went to her knee. Dragging upward, I curled around her inner thigh and travelled north to her core. Brushing over the soft cotton, already moist with her arousal, I pressed firmly, and she sighed. Her eyes were closed, but sensing mine, she opened those bottle blues and stared at me, begging me to touch her. Her brow twitched, as if questioning my hesitation. Letting her know I’d do anything she asked, I pushed aside the red briefs and plunged into her like my crafty tongs dipped into fire. Her back arched upward, her hands straining on the handmade manacles, holding her palms flat to one another, she let me take charge and master her. My finger dove deep, reveling in the heat of her, and lingering in the warmth. The pad of my thumb found a separate nub of pleasure and her hips rocked over me.
Subtle huffs escaped her lips, as she mumbled my name, begging me to get her there. A new flame was lit inside her and cresting sparks only teased her.
“Let me have your fire, Little Spark. Give me the blaze.”
Her back curved and her head fell back as she bit her lip holding in a scream. Her legs stiffened and thighs clamped, holding me in place against her. Her eyes rolled back and I wanted to know what she envisioned as she exploded over me. Floating like smoke, drifting up to the sky, she fluttered back down like loose embers and relaxed over me. Her head rolled, and she kissed my forearm, pressed near her head, as she stretched over me.
“Heph, I…I’ve never experienced anything like that before. Never.”
My heart soared with pride that I could give her that first. I wanted to be her first at everything, as I knew she’d be the first for me. First and last.
phyre
Resting in Heph’s lap, my lids grew lazy and closed momentarily. Like a satisfied kitten, napping in the sun, I stretched and purred. Aftershocks lingered as the embers died down. Heph smiled at me, but I worried I hadn’t satisfied him and I sat up abruptly. Balancing on one thigh, I looked over my bare shoulder at him. The plaid blanket draped over me in a sultry dress, replica of a Grecian goddess, or more like a Scottish princess. Ember helped me, belting it at the waist, and speaking words of encouragement.
“You can do this. Trust him.” Confiding in her, I told her what Hestia said. Ember stared back at me in disbelief, and then told me she knew what to do. Here I sat, staring into the warm eyes of a man who just gave me something I’d never experienced before. A sensation I wanted to experience again, but now it was his turn. I slipped off his lap and knelt before him, pushing his knees apart, feeling confident to touch the denim covering.
“Phyre, you don’t have to do this.” He sat up straighter, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“I want to. Please.” My eyes begged him to let me. Satiated and empowered, I didn’t want to lose my nerve. He slowly sat back and watched as I unbuttoned his jeans and unzipped it to free him. Boxer briefs in forest green greeted me. I smiled and he helped me lower the material to his hips. Springing forth, I inspected him. I’d never paid attention to a man before. Previous experience proved only one function, one purpose, from the men who approached me. This would be different. This would be me controlling him.
I didn’t trust myself to wrap my hands around the thickness of his length. This was going to be a first, as well. Placing my hands on his knees, I pressed up and lowered my lips to him. My tongue swiped over the salty tip, and he flinched. I pulled back and looked up for assurance to see his eyes closed, his expression peaceful, his lips curled.
“Heph.” He opened his eyes instantly.
“I need to ask you to bind me again.”
“What?” He choked, and my eyes brushed to the thick leather strap around his left wrist.
“Strap my hands so I can’t hurt you.”
“Phyre, no, I trust you.” His eyes begged, pained at the thought.
“Heph, please. I don’t trust me.” I didn’t believe I would hurt him intentionally, but I didn’t trust the excitement I anticipated in bringing this large man to his knees, figuratively. The power of that thought set my palms to prickle. “Please.” I whispered.
Heph unsnapped the thick strap and I placed my hands behind my back. Lowering my head, he reached over me and wrapped my wrists. I misjudged the length of the leather and the fit was snug, but I couldn’t move my hands, and the cuffing relieved me. He sat back, and I noticed the large compass tattoo he’d hidden under the covering. The north end pointed at me, reminding me of what he said. I was his true north. His skin blazed and the glow encouraged me. My eyes turned to his, but his tenderness redirected me. My mouth returned to cover him, drawing him deep, learning the way to bring him pleasure and claim him. If I was his little spark, he was my soothing flame, and I wanted to take comfort in the blaze of his heat.
+ + +
The next few days passed with silent stares and subtle caresses, but I did not climb the stairs to his room again. I missed his touch and wanted to taste him again, but I didn’t want to raise suspicion with Hestia. Permission or not, I didn’t want her to think I was Adara, and that I was using Heph. In preparation for the celebration Hestia wished to throw, we gathered leaves, ironing them in wax paper and stringing them from the kitchen ceiling. Hestia made a wreath of yellow, orange and brown foliage and decorated the iron chandelier in the dining room. Garlands in fall colors draped from mantels and down the center of the table. The adornment gave off a holiday feel and festivity filled the air. I wasn’t certain there was a theme, other than a celebration of harvest, bounty and fall. Winter would be on us soon, and I feared Heph would leave. He wasn’t here this time last year when I arrived. I’d just missed him, or he had just missed me. Either way, I told him I was found by him now, and I privately prayed to remain in that position with him: Found and home.
When Persephone Fields and Veva Matron arrived, the energy of the house rose twentyfold from just two additional girls. Solis Cronus was their escort and quite opposite his brother, Heph. Slimmer, but still broad, his booming voice and tan stature filled the room. His sandy blond hair and honey colored eyes scanned the room and every girl sighed, wishing he would pick her, but his eyes always landed on one girl: Heph’s sister. With acorn-colored hair and unusual sapphire eyes ringed in turquoise, her curvy body and sassy mouth instantly endeared Veva to me. It took a moment to learn that while sister and brother to Heph, Solis and Veva were not blood-related to one another. Persephone was the quieter of the two women, her smile sweet but hesitant. Her blonde hair and blue eyes embodied innocence, but the tenderness of her expression hinted at a secret knowledge. We had a surprise for her, but we were sworn to secrecy. It had not arrived yet, but Hestia did not show a trace of panic, as always.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I didn’t extend my hand, and Veva looked down at my clenched fists. I didn’t touch people willingly, and my hesitation stumped her. Every other girl eagerly hugged her, pulling her close, remembering her as a child. Before me stood a woman, and one important to Heph, but I couldn’t touch her.
“You’re new here?” The statement was a question, and Veva searched my face for signs of something. I didn’t understand her questioning glare, and my fingers twitched with the need to protect myself. The warmth at my back as I remained standing in the breakfast room told me Heph was close.
“Phyre arrived last year in the winter,” he explained, his hand stroking down my hair, sending a signal to his sister, and her eyes opened wide.
“I thought you were going to patch things up with Lovie.” The words tumbled out of her mouth and my back stiffened. Veva closed her eyes and Persephone hissed her name under her breath.
“Who’s Lovie?” I asked through clenched teeth and a forced smile. The fingertips at the base of my back made me flinch, and instantly Heph removed his touch. We stood in the small space of the breakfast room, now overcrowded with three additional people, and the walls suddenly caved in on me. The heat of the hearth fire too great, sweat built at the edge of my hairline.
“She’s no one,” Veva lied, shaking her head. Solis spoke up in his booming deep voice. “She was— was—Heph’s fiancé, the cheating bi—.”
“Solis!” Hestia snapped. Persephone covered her forehead, shaking her head vigorously. The tension in the room closed in on me, crushing me.
“You were engaged?” The strangled sound of Adara at the doorway cracked through the thickness, like shifting plates below the earth. The room rumbled in heartache.
“I…” Heph coughed behind me. Adara glared at him over my shoulder. I stared at her, the hurt cutting deep into her dark eyes.
“Heph, how could you?” Seraphine admonished, standing, anticipating Adara’s retreat. Instantly, Adara spun for the kitchen with Seraphine in tow. Veva looked at Heph over my head, mouthing, I’m sorry, and my heart froze. That saying of hell freezing over? It happened within me, the heat of my flames crystallizing into frozen waves, and I shivered.
“Phyre.” The tender voice of Heph behind me did nothing to warm me. I stepped forward, addressing Veva.
“I look forward to your stay. Excuse me.” I stepped past her and exited through the side door. The moment I hit the fresh air, I ran like I hadn’t run since that night: the night I needed all my energy to get here, as fear chased me, and a man died because he lied to me.
+ + +
I sat on the edge of the roaring river bank, casting out stones from the gravel under my fingers. I didn’t care that my jeans slowly drew up the moisture from the bank and the wetness seeped deeper than my skin. Cold filled me. Heph had been engaged. While I vaguely remembered overhearing this, it hadn’t processed. Why hadn’t he told me? I thought it was only Adara, and yet there had been someone else. How many lovers did he have? How many marriage proposals had he offered? How many women had he loved before? This was more than a man who sowed his seed, aimlessly restless. This was a man with intentions to settle, not once but twice, with different women, both in the same year.
My heart ached so fiercely, the stabbing scissors effect opened to snip and cut and carve out my heart. I bent at the waist, feeling sick at the thought of his touch. The way he caressed me. The words he spoke. I believed him, like I had believed others, and he hadn’t been truthful. Pretty words and tender strokes, and I had given into to hope. I turned to my side, bracing both hands in the cool, gravelly soil on the edge of the water. My fingers dug deep, suppressing the instinct to burn, holding down the spark ready to ignite and set the forest on fire. My heat raged. My heart ripped. But I did not cry. No, no tears fell to extinguish flames. Frozen behind my eyes, they remained.
Taking deep breaths to hold back the bile rising, a thundering sound filled my ears. The river raced, and the noise of water rushing over rocks heightened. The volume rose like a thermometer, hovering over me like a fever. A vibration rumbled the earth beneath my hands, and I watched as the little stones under my fingers knocked subtly together. My palms vibrated. My arms quaked. I looked up to see the river rising, forming into a shape. A motorbike sped toward me, the whine of an engine and the roar of the river mixing into one. The nightrider, dressed in black, came into full form and raced in my direction. I couldn’t move. I stared at the strange figure as the image of rider and bike grew. The noise took over all senses, and I held my breath as he jumped the river bank and landed feet from me. Spinning in the gravel, rocks arched and sputtered, cascading over me. The back tire spun three-sixty before coming to a complete stop. The engine cut as pebbles rained down on me. Removing a helmet, a dark head of hair, flipped back, and a bluish face with bluer lips faced me.
