The Love of War

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own the characters that I’m currently taking ‘creative license’ with (Heh, heh.). They belong to Renaissance Pictures and USA Studios. I make no profit from my writing, (yet). I write because I want to, and purrfus would pout if I stopped. (I’m also writing because I just got ‘Pathfinder’, and watching Karl Urban run around in a loincloth was enough to get me back at the keyboard.)



WARNING: If you’re at Chapter 18 and are still reading, I don’t need to warn you, if you’ve skipped ahead; shame on you. You’ve missed some great character building and some pretty spiffy sex scenes (if I do say so myself).



The Love of War, Chapter 18



Jessie woke in an unusual position. The chiseled male chest under her cheek was normal, or had rapidly become so within a few days. The muscled arm that was wrapped around her shoulder had also become normal. The fact that she had one arm draped possessively across that chest; normal. The figure cuddled along her back, whose breath was tickling the hairs at the nape of her neck, wasn’t. She shifted her head to see a pale, male arm was draped over her hips to rest his hand on Cupid’s lower abdomen. The three of them had kicked off the sheets, but the combined body heat of two gods and one mortal was enough to keep the chill off her. It hadn’t been a dream; she really had been at the mercy of two deities. A pair of deities that had literally fucked her blind, thus proving that it really was possible to pound the sight out of a woman and it wasn’t just an expression. First, she had been fucked unconscious, now blind. If this kept up, the next expression that the God of War would prove was the ‘fucked until she can’t walk’.



Come to think of it, hadn’t he already proven that one when he’d had to carry her into the bathing room? Oh, boy. He was just confirming those expressions right and left.



She snuggled her cheek back against her god and pondered her situation. She had given herself to him last night. She had been too tired to really think, so she had just gone with her instincts. Of course, she would have to explain to her god what exactly giving herself to him meant. It didn’t mean blind obedience or deference to him in all things. In the bedroom, it was one thing, especially until the bet was over, but outside the bedroom, she wasn’t going to be a mindless doll. He had gotten the loyalty of a pagan priestess of Irish and Scottish descent, and she hadn’t been raised to be blindly deferential.



This was really comfortable. She didn’t want to move, but the ‘call of nature’ was a scream from her bladder. She sighed and started to extricate herself from the tangle of limbs. Predictably, Cupid’s arm tightened.



“Where are you going?” He muttered in a sleep thickened voice.



“The privy, my lord.” She murmured back. She didn’t want to wake Strife.



She needn’t have bothered.



“Hurry back,” Strife grumbled. He really like the soft feminine bottom that he’d been snuggled up to and wanted it back in bed with them as soon as possible.



“I will.” Jessie murmured back soothingly as she sat up. She carefully crawled out from between the two bodies to slide off the bed. All of their skin was still slightly tacky and it clung to her in silent protest at her movement. Strife had also been lying partially on her hair and she had to take hold and yank to free it. She scooted off the end off the bed with a slight pause to steady herself for a second at the blood rushing to all of her extremities. But her head cleared and she padded out the door and into the hall.



You’d think on Olympus there would be an en suite bathroom.







Strife watched the perky feminine bottom and black tattoo that peeked out from under a mane of wild curls go out the door. He had let Jessie slide out from under his arm, but had immediately put his hand back on Cupid’s stomach. He was just sinking back into a comforting post coital daze when a thought occurred to him; he hadn’t drunk the anti conception potion. He’d drunk it before the first interlude in Cupid’s study, but he hadn’t had a chance to when the God of War had snatched him from the breakfast table this morning. Better do it now, before he got distracted or before Cupid made good on his promise to fuck him. The last thing that he needed was to become pregnant himself because Cupid was a top. Strife was an Olympian, male pregnancy could happen.



He groaned and flopped over onto his back. He was definitely showing a lack of grace in the bedroom since he and Cupid started up. He closed his eyes and conjured a dose of the medicine that Hermes made for him. The small vial felt cool in his hand, of course, anything would feel cool to his over heated flesh. He downed it in one gulp, banishing it back to Hermes’ workshop with the other empties for a refill.



“Put your hand back where it was.” The big blonde next to him muttered.



Strife grinned and flopped over onto his stomach, stretched out his arm and dropped his hand back onto his lover’s torso, leaving the space between the two of them for Jessie. He’d loved falling asleep in Cupid’s bed in a tangle of limbs. He was hardly new the threesomes, but having the God of War trust him enough to share his mortal *and* fall asleep was an unexpected bonus. He’d also loved the heat that had flared in Cupid’s eyes when they were both making love to Jessie. Of course, given Cupid’s possessiveness, it wouldn’t be long until he was reestablishing his claim on Strife with a vigorous plowing.



He couldn’t wait.



“Do you think that we ought to feed her?” he asked the God of War.



“Mmm, we probably should,” Cupid mused. “And then maybe we should give her a bath.”



The image of Cupid all wet and slippery gave his morning wood teak-like hardness. And then the image of Jessie with water dripping off her nipples swam into his head. Strife groaned. Where was that mortal? What was taking so long?



Cupid grinned at the sound coming from the other side of the bed and took a deep breath. Ah, there was nothing like the scent of conquest in the morning, and this morning, it smelled like sex. Usually, it only *felt* like sex. Jessie had finally succumbed last night and became his, and from the look of it, Strife had been his for awhile.



Without opening his eyes, he conjured a silver platter full of cut fruits and vegetables. He opened his eyes to slits, checked the position of it at the foot of the bed and decided it was satisfactory. He saw Strife peek at it and frown. A space appeared in the middle, and several wedges of cheese were added to the selection. Then both gods closed their eyes and slid back into dozing.



Neither one of them saw eight extra slices of golden apple appear mixed in with the other ones.







Ares watched the morning after daze on his eldest child’s face in his mirror with satisfaction. His twin was not being so restrained. She was twirling around the room in a swirl of filmy pink skirts and long, black hair. Her happy squeals were filling the chamber and echoing against the walls. Boy, you’d think that her son never did threesomes or something. Then again, usually when Strife did a threesome, it didn’t mean more than mutual pleasure. This hopefully would be the start of an era of happiness and contentment at the House of War.



Eris finally stopped her spinning and came to rest next to him in front of the mirror. She was still practically bouncing up on her toes, but he couldn’t tease her about it. His nephew was the God of Joy; Ares couldn’t begrudge the kid of happiness of his own. And the kid definitely looked happy, in fact if he looked anymore happier, he’d be in a coma.



Eris was wearing the amulet that Asclepius had given her, the one that hid her from prying deities’ presences. She had been the one who had slipped the Apple of Life slices onto the plate without either of the gods on the bed noticing. That amulet must be a useful thing to have around. The brat hadn’t told him that she’d had it. Maybe he could convince her to loan it to him? He could think of some fun trouble that he could start with one of those and it would be easier to coax a loan from Eris than to try to get Ace to make him one of his own.



Ares felt his former lover, Aphrodite flash into the room behind them. He’d given his permission to flash directly into this room without knocking first. The Queen of Olympus had appreciated it. It was only good manners to ask before flashing into another’s temple, and Aphrodite excelled at good manners when it didn’t involve flashing into her children’s homes. He could see the glitter of a silver chain wrapped around her fingers when she moved toward them. He slid over to make room for her in front of the mirror.



She reached out to touch the mirror, but halted a few inches away. She looked over at him for permission. Yep, she had polite mirror etiquette too. He nodded his assent to for her to change the image. The image of Jessie washing her hands and face came into view. Oooo, he didn’t know that she had a tattoo! Damn, the girl was in shape and naked too. The long lines of her legs and the supple strength of her arms and back was completely visible in the mirror. She bent over at the waist to rinse her face and revealed her toned buttocks. He sternly reminded his dick what her aura looked like before it could do more than twitch.



Aphrodite looked intently at the mortal and then her eyes unfocused for a moment, when they cleared, she sagged in relief. Only one thing could have released that tension that she’d been carrying.



“She’s pregnant.” She confirmed with a sigh.



“We’ve slipped the Apple into the food that she’s about to eat.” He nodded over at his twin who was brushing her fingers over the amulet that still hung around her neck.



The mirror showed Jessie was walking back into the bedroom, saw the platter of food at the foot of the bed and smiled. Strife opened one eye and patted the open space between the two males. Her smile turned into a grin as she approached the bed.



“Does anyone else think that this plan is going too smoothly?” Ares asked. “Doesn’t Cupid say ‘no plan of action survives contact with the enemy’?”



“It’s going smoothly now, because it’s going to be anything but smooth later.” Aphrodite pinched the bridge of her nose.



“How do you know?” Ares asked. “Have you been talking to the Fates again?”



“I don’t need to talk to the Three to know how our son is going to react when he realizes how we manipulated him.”



“When she’s right, she’s right.” Eris pointed out.



The two Loves and Marriage stood before the mirror to make sure that everything kept going to plan.



“I hope they feed her before they go at it again,” Eris remarked. “I don’t think I could keep myself from giving them pointers the next time that I saw them.”



“I know just the feeling, ‘Ris.” Ares groaned. “I’ve been getting flashes from time to time and sometimes I feel like I’m gonna to burst if I don’t tell them about better hip movements.”



“I knew there was a reason that I don’t come over for a meal more often.” Aphrodite sighed. “The dinner conversation would be so undignified.”



“’Undignified’ wouldn’t be the word that *I’d* use to describe Cupid if our eldest found out we were watching him have sex.”



“Brother, when you’re right, you’re right.” Aphrodite echoed Eris’ words.









Jessie crawled back between her lord and her lover and sat cross legged at the foot of the bed. She snagged an orange wedge and sighed in bliss as she bit into it. The juice flooded her mouth and coursed down her throat. She could practically *see* the two sets of eyes behind her snap open at her happy sound although neither moved. She piled a slice of red apple onto a slice of cheese and took a slow bite. Mmmhh.



A tanned arm snapped around Jessie’s middle and yanked her back onto the pillows. Thankfully, she had already swallowed her mouthful. She landed with a plop between the two deities. She let mischief sparkle in her eyes as she languidly pushed the last bit between her lips and chewed slowly. She could see rising hunger in Cupid’s eyes and she didn’t think it was for the food at the foot of the bed.



“Hungry, Pet?”



“Always, my lord, but it’s also for the food.”



“We’ll just have to feed you then.” Strife let his tousled black curls brush along the top of her thigh as he reached down for the platter. Jessie yelped when the cold silver met her warm tummy and then giggled when Strife plopped a plump grape into her open mouth. Cupid chuckled and snagged a cherry for her. He gathered her hands together and stretched them above her head. He pressed them down onto the pillows in a wordless command to keep them there and then conjured a small knife. With its tiny blade, he pitted the cherry and then squeezed it until juice welled at the top. She licked her lips and watched his movements and the way he seemed to casually disregard his erection. He rubbed the cherry slowly over her lips, crushing the juice into her mouth and then finally allowed her to eat it. She chewed slowly, keeping her eyes locked with War’s until a warm snicker sounded behind her. She tore her gaze away from Cupid and turned her head to Joy.



A smile that was almost as wicked as Cupid’s twisted Strife’s lips as he reached for the platter. He pushed it down until it rested on the top of her thighs and let his fingers drift into the pomegranate seeds. He pinched up a few and then let them dribble onto her stomach. They bounced and most of them settled into her navel. Strife’s face disappeared for a moment while he ate the few that had fallen onto the bed before he let his lips trail up her hip and onto her tummy. He sucked up each stray seed one by one, letting his teeth graze her skin occasionally. Then he pushed the platter onto Cupid’s side of the bed and sat up on all fours. He pushed her legs apart while sliding slowly back to the bed on his stomach. He draped each leg over his shoulders and settled his chest directly onto her mons. Blue eyes peeped up under black curls with a rakish glint as he used the tip of his tongue to lap each individual seed from her bellybutton while cradling her hips in his hands.



Cupid seemed to be enjoying the show. He floated the platter off the bed and onto the pillows where Strife had been resting his head. The God of War languidly lifted a slice of apple and lifted it to her lips. She bit into one of the sweetest apples that she had ever tasted and then tried not to choke when she felt Strife’s lips move lower down her abdomen. Cupid circled her wrists into one hand kept them on the pillows. He took another slice of apple and held it between his lips. He leaned down and held it over her mouth teasingly. She arched her head up and tried to take a bite, but the Champion of Olympus took his head out of the range of her mouth. Jessie let her head fall back onto the bed. Cupid leaned back and rubbed the juicy bit of fruit over her lips, mixing the cherry and apple flavors together, but she didn’t try to bit yet. Then he deigned to allow his head to drop and passed the apple slice into her mouth.









“The Golden Apple, feed her the Golden Apple for Gaia’s sake!” Eris muttered as the three of them leaned toward the mirror.



“Patience ‘Rissy.” Ares soothed.



“That’s rich, coming from you.” She snarked.



“He’s almost out of the other kind of apple.” He pointed out.



“Yeah, but if *he* bites down onto the Gold one, he’s going to know it.”



“Relax, sis, and trust in the cosmos.”



“All this maneuvering is because we *don’t* trust in the cosmos!”



“Should we really be watching this?” Aphrodite’s brow was furrowed. Her notions of propriety were being tested by the sight of the threesome in the works. She occasionally peeked in on her children, but never when they were about to have sex. She had had some close calls over the centuries, but had never managed to see more than a peek of the kid’s love lives. If they’d looked like they were about to start or were in the middle of lovemaking, she had quickly shifted her mirror’s focus. The eyeful of her son’s nakedness with his two lovers was definitely a new experience. One that she wasn’t going to repeat after this situation was over.



“We have to make sure that Jessie eats the Golden Apple before we can stop watching.” Ares told her. The Goddess of Marriage was chewing on her bottom lip, a sure sign that this was a little bit more than she had expected or wanted. She was so cute when she was socially uncomfortable.



“Relax,” Ares repeated. “See, he’s reaching for it now.”







Jessie tried not to squirm as her god kept her arms stretched overhead while Strife’s mouth settled between her legs. The God of Joy had found out a way to drive her mad. Or maybe it was the God of War who had found the way, and Strife just liked the feel of a woman responding to his caresses. Cupid had figured out early that she preferred dominant men (and how had he figured that out so quickly?), but Strife was concentrating on her enjoying herself. Of course, the two notions *did* coincided.



Cupid lifted another slice of apple to her mouth and allowed her to immediately bite into it. Ohhhh, she had thought that the last one was sweet, but this one was so good that it defied description. It was as though something had frozen that apple at the very instant that it had reached the peak of ripeness before it started to spoil. No other apple she had ever eaten tasted so good. The taste flooded her mouth and seemed to sweep down her body.



“Oh, my Lord, may I have another one of those?”



“Like them, Pet?”



“Oh, yes. Please?” she begged, and then gasped when she felt Strife’s teeth graze on her sensitive flesh. She would have bucked, but Strife’s hold pinned her hips to the bed. The platter rocked a little on her stomach. She hoped that Cupid wouldn’t refuse her another slice just to be perverse.



He didn’t. He brought another slice to her mouth, and to thank him, she used her lips and teeth to suck and nibble the fruit from his fingers. She felt him harden further against her hip, but he ignored it and just languidly lifted another slice off the platter. The God of War fed her the apple, slice by slice, until it was gone and Strife had brought her to the edge of orgasm.



“You’re close, aren’t you Kitten?” Cupid floated the platter to the floor.



“Yes, my Lord.”



“Did I give you permission to come?”



“No,” she concentrated on not letting her hips twist in Strife’s grip and staving off the orgasm that seem to glitter just beyond her reach.









“There, she’s finished eating it!” Ares shouted. The last of the Golden Apple of Life had disappeared down Jessie’s throat, and from the look of things, she would probably think that the rush flowing through her body was from another orgasm.



“Yes!” Eris did another twirl and Aphrodite let her shoulders slump a little in relief. It was the closest that she’d ever come to poor posture.



“Please Ares, blank out the mirror. We don’t need to see anymore.” The Goddess of Marriage didn’t want to see any more of her eldest in the middle of sex; even if that sex was going to save them all. There were just some things that a mother didn’t need to know about her children, and this was definitely one of them.



“Party Pooper,” Eris mock pouted, but then she tucked her arm through her stuffier sister’s and led her out of the room.



Ares felt a grin spread itself over his face. He was going to have another grandkid to spoil! He blanked out the mirror and followed the other two goddesses from the room.









Jessie bit her lip and tried to keep from coming. It was harder to stop the incoming rush of pleasure than it usually was, because all of the sudden, her skin seemed to be *way* more sensitive. She’d thought that she was getting very good at not coming until she was told that she was allowed. It was proving a little more difficult this morning.

Maybe if she concentrated on something else?



It was harder to try to think of something else than she thought. The God of Joy seemed to *really* enjoy performing oral sex. Those teeth and tongue were very talented. And Cupid liked seeing her restrained. Or restraining her, she couldn’t decide which. Since both of her wrists were still encased by one of his hands, but he was viewing her with possessive pleasure, she still couldn’t decide. She gasped as Strife found another very sensitive nerve ending between her legs. Cupid caught the gasp with his mouth when he leaned over to take her mouth. His tongue swept into her mouth for another round of bold conquest. She was at the mercy of two deities mouths. Again.



Cupid’s hands were pinching her nipples and then soothing them with slow, circulars rubs. It really wasn’t all that soothing. It was making them diamond hard and exquisitely tender. And, she was grimly certain that she was going to get a spanking before the end of the day, because if Strife gave *one more* stroke of his tongue, she was going to orgasm, with or without permission.



“Strife, hold off a minute,” her lord seemed to sense her impending crash of pleasure and she wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. Good, that he had prevented her from coming, bad, because he had prevented her from coming. And, probably would continue to do so for the foreseeable future if the look on his face was any indicator.



Strife made a small dissatisfied sound in his throat, but removed his mouth from her flesh. He sat up on his heels between her legs and then got a hungry smile on his face. He leaned over her, putting his hand next her hip, simultaneously letting his caress her hip and Cupid’s stomach, to give War a long, thorough kiss. The sight of the two males kissing set her blood pounding faster. Who’d have thought it? Not her, that was for damn sure! She’d never gotten off on watching or reading gay love stories. She’d never gotten uncomfortable when her cousin Tommy and her best friend Kyle had hooked up, it was just a part of her life. But now the sight of her Lord and his lover kissing was pulsing heat all through her body. And, as far as she was concerned, she didn’t *need* any further stimulation, but she couldn’t look away either.



They broke the kiss, and in concert looked down at her. The hungry heat in their eyes made her squirm. Cupid still had her wrists pinioned to the bed. Oh, no. She recognized that smile of anticipation on his face; it always meant that he was feeling playful and that she wasn’t going to be able to walk when he was finished. Either that, or it was going to be a *long* time before she was going to be allowed to orgasm.



He released her wrists, but she knew better than to let them move until given permission. He reached out and started to stroke Strife’s cheeks and throat. She bit her bottom lip and hoped that he didn’t see it. He might think that she was trying to hide her response from him.



“Jessie,” he murmured, his eyelids coming to half mast at the sight of Strife closing his eyes and shuddering at the other deities’ touch.



“Yes, my Lord?” How had she forced the words out of her dry throat?



“You haven’t sucked my cock yet.” It wasn’t a question and there was no irritation in his voice. He was just stating a fact.



“No, my Lord, you have not given me that privilege.” Was he finally going to allow *her* to touch *him*? He had not let her touch him during sex since she’d come here beyond some involuntary gripping. She tried not to let her yearning color her voice, but she didn’t think that she succeeded.



“You may do so now.”



She cautiously came up onto her knees as Cupid reclined onto the pillows. She crawled to the bottom of the bed. Cupid lay back, keeping one hand in Strife’s hair. Strife lay on his stomach along Cupid’s side. The two males started to kiss again and Cupid spread his legs in a wordless indicator of where he wanted Jessie. She crawled between them and for the first time, got to look her fill at the magnificent organ that had given her such pleasure.



It was wonderful. Long, thick, and apparently the Olympians didn’t believe in circumcision, because he had a foreskin. Oh goody! He’d be more sensitive. She let her breath ghost along his length first. Then, she slid her tongue between the foreskin and the head. She let her tongue swirl around twice before she gently slid the skin back along his length with her hand.



A calloused hand slid into her hair and tugged her away from the flesh in her mouth.



“Don’t use your hands.” Cupid had broken the kiss long enough to hold her eyes with his, “Only your mouth.” His wings were stirring the sheets on the bed.



“Yes my Lord.” Still holding his gaze, she clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her mouth to his bulbous head. Damn, she’d hoped to be able to stroke the inside of his thighs and cradle his sacks in her hand. Oh, well, maybe next time.



Jessie’s long hair curtained around her and slid down either sided of his hips. Cupid’s green eyes darkened and Strife leaned back onto to the pillows to enjoy the show.



Her last boyfriend had loved getting head, so she had gotten really good at it, hoping that if she fulfilled his fantasies, he’d do the same for her. But the selfish bastard had been unwilling to do any playing *her* way, hence the ‘ex’ attached to him in her thoughts. He hadn’t even been willing to try. She pushed his memory away. Thoughts of him had no place in this bed, no place at all.



She let her mouth engulf him, going down further on his cock with every bob of her head. Jessie loved the taste of the flesh in her mouth. Soon, she was feeling him brush the back of her throat. She finally had to break eye contact to more fully give attention to what was sliding in and out of her mouth. She started to hum her pleasure at finally being able to touch him at all, even without her hands. She was rewarded with a twitch of his hips and a strangled grunt. It seemed that the God of War was enjoying the vibration in her throat. One wing fluttered and feathers touched the top of her shoulder. She couldn’t fit all of him down her throat yet, but her enthusiasm must be showing, because he wasn’t objecting or fisting her hair to fuck her face and force the length of him down her throat. Precum was sliding into her mouth along with cock.



She heard another gasp, but it wasn’t Cupid. As her head rose, she peeped up and saw that Cupid was stroking Strife’s cock in time with her bobs. Both of them had their eyes locked on her. Jessie decided some indirect payback was in order and deliberately slowed her motions. If she had correctly observed Cupid in the time since her arrival, he would make the other god squirm by keeping in time with her. Strife was about get a little back for the time that he’d spent making *her* writhe when his mouth had been on her pussy.



A strangled groan was her reward when she paused to let her tongue swirl around the head. Cupid was copying the motion with his thumb on the tip of Strife’s cock. Mmmhhmm, she could draw this out for awhile. She dragged the tip of her tongue along his ridge, and he copied the motion with the tip of his finger on Strife’s before she once again took him into her mouth. She kept her head motions slow; she did, however up the suction. She could do this for a long time, her jaw wasn’t even sore yet; but Cupid had other ideas.



“Faster,” he growled. He flexed his free hand in her hair.



Jessie obeyed. She kept the motion fast and was careful to breathe through her nose. She had trained herself out of the gag reflex. She could feel his balls draw up and knew her lord was close to coming, so she sucked harder. But before he came, the hand flexing in her hair tugged her off his cock.



“My Lord, am I not worthy?” her eyes widened in consternation. He hadn’t liked it? Had she done something wrong? Why wasn’t he letting her finish?



“Ah no, Pet,” he said smoothly. The soothing tone sounded strange coming from him. He wasn’t generally a soothing kind of god. “You did very well, and now that I’ve felt your mouth, you’ll be doing that again. You’ll be doing that often. But, I’m not going to finish in your mouth right now. Come up here.”



“Yes, my Lord.” She expelled a relieved sigh and moved up the bed on the opposite side of him from Strife. Cupid’s hand in her hair guided her to his chest, curving his wing around her. His other hand was still occupied with the other being in the bed. Strife’s eyes were starting to glaze over with pleasure. She tried not to wriggle with her own unabated arousal.



“Do you like this cock?” his question seemed idle, even his hand wasn’t.



“It’s very nice, my Lord,” she admitted. It was; not as thick as Cupid’s, but almost as long.



“Would you like to feel it inside of you?”



Danger. Trap. Was this a trick question? Thankfully, her response came naturally and without hesitation.



“Only if it will please you, my Lord,” she said quietly.



“It would, Kitten. It will.”



Cupid’s hand abandoned Strife’s cock. Strife couldn’t seem to keep from uttering a protesting sound at the loss. Cupid carefully rolled Strife off his wing and Jessie off the other one and knelt up. He put Jessie in the same spot that he had just occupied, in the middle of the bed on her back. He leaned over and parted her knees with his hands and widened her legs before tugging a boneless Strife to his knees in front of him. Strife was finally coming out of his daze and looked over his shoulder at Cupid with surprise as the God of War positioned them between Jessie’s thighs. But he didn’t let Strife enter her yet, the both of them just knelt there, looking down while her pussy throbbed with the want of a cock sliding into her.



She looked up at the two males above her and tried not to whimper. Strife was leaning back against Cupid, gasping. The God of War had resumed stroking Joy’s cock with one hand, and was plucking what seemed to be very sensitive nipples with the other. Strife’s hips were starting to rock involuntarily in time with the strokes. She was used to seeing that predatory grin on Cupid’s face, but it was now overlaid with a satisfied smirk. Both gods were framed by Cupid’s snowy wings.



“His cock is going to be the one filling you, but *I’m* the one that is going to be fucking you.”



Cupid released the cock in his hand and gently pushed his lover downward. Strife came to himself enough to lock eyes with Jessie as he filled her for the first time, propping himself up on his elbows. He brought his mouth onto hers for a long, sensual kiss. And then he gasped and stiffened above her. She looked over his shoulder and saw Cupid entering him from behind. Cupid came down on top of both of them, with his arms along Strife’s, like he was at the top of a push-up, and then he started to move. It looked like she wasn’t the only one who was going to get teased and tormented today. She smiled impishly.



Strife gasped and writhed between them. Cupid locked eyes with Jessie and nodded to her. As Cupid’s powerful hips shoved them both forward, she deliberately clamped her Kegel muscles around Strife’s cock. A strangled groan was her reward. And, since her Lord had left her hands free, she framed Strife’s face between her palms and kissed him. He seemed desperate to convey with his mouth what he couldn’t convey with his body. His kiss was wild and fierce until Cupid started to circle his hips and Strife broke the kiss to grimace in a pleasure that was almost pain.



Jessie tilted her hips to let him come into her more fully and tried to curl her legs around both of her lovers. She couldn’t quite do it, but did manage to rest her heels on her Lord’s hip bones. Cupid’s smile was feral as he pounded into the body between them. His fanning wings were drying their combined sweat. Cupid somehow managed not to rest their combined weight onto her, so just Strife’s body lay on hers. That was good; she was having enough trouble drawing breath into her lungs without the both of them pressing the oxygen out of her lungs.



Cupid’s hips circled again, causing the double reaction of hitting Strife’s prostate while causing Strife’s cock to corkscrew in her. She moaned feelingly. So did Strife.



“Are you close, lover?” he breathed into the God of Joy’s ear.



“Yesss…” he hissed.



“Jessie?”



“Oh yes,” she gasped.



“Then come, both of you!” he growled with a sharp twist of his hips. She yowled with perfect obedience while Strife grunted and twitched within her. Cupid’s triumphant snarl let her know that Strife’s cock wasn’t the only one releasing.



Cupid rolled them all to the side without disengaging. Jessie drew in long breaths and snuggled into the pale throat before her while Strife panted between them.







Aphrodite walked the halls of Fate without letting her thoughts show on her face. The pendant in her hands seemed to burn, but she was fairly certain that it was just her imagination. The pendant wasn’t fully keyed yet, so, for the moment, it was just still a lifeless hunk of silver.



It was a beautiful hunk of lifeless silver. She didn’t need to look at it to remember what it looked like. Her eyes had been glued to it as Morpheus handed it to her. The elegant scroll work was edged with the Forgotten Script meant to contain what was going to fill the empty spot in the middle of the amulet. Morpheus had almost pouted when the Queen of Olympus hadn’t let him set the jewel. Little had the Smith of the Gods known what was going to be gracing his work. If he had, he might have balked at making the thing altogether. And she had needed him to do it; he was one of the few Olympians who could still read the Forgotten Script of the First Ones enough to set the spell without powering it. The knife that he had also forged especially for her was in her other hand.



Aphrodite was gripping the silver hard enough to imprint the delicate etchings into her palm. The Fates were holding the last elements at their temple. Jessie was carrying the future in her womb, the thing that could eventually save them if the Twilight came.



The Goddess of Marriage approached the doors to the Tapestry Room and its large double doors. The massive inner gate swung outward in welcome, so she passed through without a break in stride. The Three Fates looked up from their work without stopping. The Spinner nodded to the table where a glittering green crystal lay. Aphrodite crossed to stand above it. The small fragment of the Cronus Stone innocently glinted in the light of the lamps, but as she watched, a light within it started to glow, showing that even though it was just a small piece of the whole, it still had power. She set the knife on the table and took a deep breath.



Sheer determination kept Aphrodite’s hands from trembling as she picked up the crystal. The heat that it radiated was not a figment of her imagination; the crystal pulsed in her hands like a heartbeat. She swallowed and pressed it into the empty space prepared for it on the amulet. Then, she picked the knife back up and approached the Spinner. Wordlessly, the other goddess held out her hand, palm up. Aphrodite pricked the middle finger of the outstretched hand with the Morpheus metal. The Spinner turned her hand over and a large drop of blood formed, glistening like a red pearl. The Queen of Olympus moved the amulet under it and it fell directly onto the glowing fragment. The light in the crystal grew brighter. She moved to the Weaver and the older goddess held out her hand like her sister. Aphrodite repeated the process with her and with the blood of the second goddess, the crystal’s brightness started to cast shadows on the walls. As she moved to the Cutter though, the eldest goddess waved the knife away and used her own Shears to draw the blood needed. The glow of the Stone was as bright as a star as it absorbed the third essence of Fate. Aphrodite took the knife for the final incision, the one made into her palm. As she pressed her bleeding hand to the greedy stone, she willed it to lock into place on the medallion. She could almost hear the snarl as the crystal tried to absorb the power of the four goddesses without letting the Goddess of Marriage set it into the spell. It had been made by the Titans, and didn’t like the fact that it had to bend its will to an Olympian. She pushed it into the silver and was rewarded by the Script around it flaring to life, containing the essence of Gods and Titans. The crystal was locked into place.



The blood would keep other deities from sensing the crystal unless it was right in front of them. Morpheus had enchanted the chain so that once it was around Jessie’s neck, it wouldn’t come off. The only person that would be able to remove the amulet once it was in place was Morpheus himself. And the Forger would be very unlikely to remove *this* necklace.



The Queen of Olympus looked at the crystal that was pulsing sullenly in her hand and was surprised when she saw a tear splash onto the green power. The tear mingled with the blood and the fragment of the Cronus Stone stopped throbbing. The crystal seemed to absorb the mixture of blood and tears and then lay as lifeless as any other stone taken from the ground. She looked up and the Fates all nodded in unison.



Now, all she had to do was get it around the slender neck of a certain chestnut haired mortal.