Endgame

She moves through the clear waters of the lake, enjoying their gentle touch, feeling the fresh coolness of the water and the warmth of the afternoon sun on her face, her hair, her shoulders. Gabrielle is in town for some poetry festival, and Xena has the day to herself. Right now, she wants to be on her own.

Her thoughts drift, not for the first time, to what happened in the Norselands. Ares regaining his godhood, the power coursing through his body and exploding in fireballs as he tested it out on the nearby rocks. Ares offering her the golden apple, tempting her with the same dangerous power, then with love; then walking away with Aphrodite, vanishing into the ether as they return to Olympus. Who wouldn't want to be a god, he said. Except that, before that, he had wanted to be mortal, to share a life with her. Somewhere deep down, Xena wonders if they had that chance and lost it; if, when she gave him back his godhood, she also took something away.

She swims close to the shore, and then in one instant she feels his invisible presence -- something she didn't think she'd ever experience again, in that time he was mortal. It's hard to describe, not a physical sensation so much as an overwhelming awareness, all her senses alert. Suddenly, she's annoyed that he would do this, here and now, that he'd choose this way to show her his powers are back.

Very well; if he can play games, so can she.

She stands up in the water, so shallow it barely splashes above her knees. She moves a strand of wet streaming hair away from her chest and stands still for a moment, tilting her head back, her eyes half-closed, so that the sky and the shore are a blur of bright green and blue. The sun is warm on her skin. Then, she feel a different warmth, knowing that he's watching her, knowing how it affects him. She raises her hands to her breasts, about to touch her nipples --

And then, there's that telltale "whoosh," and a flash of blue light by a great tree only a few steps from the water's edge; and there's Ares, leaning against the trunk, his hands folded casually on his chest, watching her with a look of cool amusement. Her hands freeze; she doesn't care that she's naked in front of him, but her game is cut short and she's momentarily stumped. It's one thing to tease him while he's trying to stay invisible, pushing it until he can't take it anymore and shows himself; it's something else to put on a show for him when he's right there and fully in control. To make things worse, despite her irritation, her own arousal will not be denied. The sight of him makes the breath catch in her throat for a moment. Even from this distance, she can see that the marks of mortality are all gone; not a wrinkle on his face, not a blemish, not a gray hair amidst the smooth black; not a weakness anywhere in that perfectly sculpted body; his every muscle relaxed but the casual posture only accentuating the power of his form. This is not the mortal man who loafed around on her grandparents' farm and laughed with her and needed her help. It all comes back to her now, the thick aura of power and danger that rolls off him, the way he affects her just by being there.

"Well?" he says wryly.

"Well what?"

"What were you going to do?"

Damn it. She won't let him throw her off-balance.

Slowly, she starts to walk toward him, the water rippling around her legs. Then, almost at the edge, she stops.

"Oh -- you mean, this?" She tosses her head and puts her hands on her breasts, cupping them, stroking them, running her thumbs over the stiff nipples. She imagines his hands there, the jolt of pleasure making her gasp. She wants to close her eyes but she also wants to see him. His expression is almost startled at first, then amused. She strokes her breasts again and then slides her palms downward, to her stomach, lower still. He is riveted now, his eyes following the movement of her hands, his mouth slightly agape. He must be so hard for her by now.

It's too much for her, too. She stops abruptly and walks toward him again, out on the shore, the grass warm and tingly under her feet.

He shifts his body a little and clears his throat. Then he smirks at her. "You know -- I didn't expect this kind of welcome." And, after a moment, "I like it."

"I didn't expect to see you back so soon."

Immediately, she regrets saying it. She sees him up close now, the male beauty of his face restored to godly perfection, the sensuous line of his mouth, the hidden fire in those brown eyes. She lowers her gaze to the furred triangle in the opening of his leather vest, and thinks of kissing his chest, running her fingers through that dark soft hair, sucking on his nipple as he gasps and arches toward her. Then she wills herself to look up rather than further down.

She finds herself looking straight into his eyes, now serious and intense.

"Miss me?" he says.

The truth is, she doesn't know. She wonders if she's missed the other Ares, the one who was human. His eyes are still locked on hers and she thinks of that moment on the mountaintop, when they said goodbye after he pulled her from the icy waters and she saved him from the Furies. Maybe there is no other Ares.

With a softness that surprises her, she asks, "What do you want?"

He takes a few steps toward her, then stops. "From you? Everything."

I'd expect nothing less.

"Ares…" Xena shakes her head. Right now, she doesn't feel like playing games.

He raises his hand and touches the back of his fingers to her face. She shivers at this, and suddenly, her nakedness before him is a weakness. Slowly, he traces the line of her cheek, brushes over her lips and her chin, pauses a moment at the hollow of her neck and then trails lower, to her breast, circling the nipple. She closes her eyes; her mouth opens in a gasp, the hot ache between her thighs so acute she can't stop her hips from jerking.

Then she feel him behind her. The coarse touch of leather on the skin of her back, the chill of the metal studs, should be irritating, but instead this roughness excites her still more; then, by godly magic, that sensation melts into the heat of his own bare skin, and when his lips touch her neck the pleasure is so intense that for a moment she feels like it's about to overwhelm her, tip her over the edge right there.

"Beautiful," he whispers in her ear, "beautiful"; his whisper seems to fill the air, to caress her everywhere, and she doesn't know if it's his god tricks or her own senses playing tricks on her. For a moment she wonders if he's really here, or in her mind, in her blood. She tries to catch her breath, and moans a little.

"Touch yourself," he says. "Show me how hot you are. Touch yourself for me."

She tries to laugh, but it comes out as a breathless gasp. "You want to be in charge?"

"I am in charge." He presses a gentle kiss to her neck.

"Says who?" she manages.

"Says this." His lips are on her neck again, warm and soft, and she can't suppress a shiver. He chuckles. Then he says it again. "Touch yourself."

It's so obvious; he wants to show her who's boss, who's god, after all that time when he was mortal and powerless. She should tell him to get lost, or turn his own game on him. Instead she complies, because she wants to, wants him, no matter how much a part of her fights it. She runs her hand down her stomach, shuddering from her own touch; for a moment she rests her palm over the dark triangle of curls, then slides her fingers inside her own warm wetness, rolling her thumb over the tender bud, making tendrils of fever shoot out to every fiber of her flesh. Ares' hands grip her waist, and it feels so good to lean back into him. He covers her shoulder with light maddening kisses, laps at a soft spot on the side of her neck until she cries out. Her legs are shaking and she moves her hand faster, no longer trying to hold back the sounds she know she's making, about to be swept up by the final wave --

"Stop."

He clasps his hand over her wrist, gently but firmly; she groans, in frustration this time, and growls, "I'll make you pay for that."

"I'm counting on it," he says, his voice rich and smooth; and with that, he brings her hand to his mouth and kisses her fingers, then slowly licks them, takes them into his mouth one by one, sucking them, sending shocks of pleasure through her body. His other hand slides down her stomach, leaving what feels like a fiery trail on her skin, and a part of her dimly wonders again if he is using his powers to make her feel like this, or the burning is all inside her. It doesn’t matter.

"Oh yes," she blurts out hoarsely, "yes -- "

He spins her around abruptly, as if he'd been waiting for her to say it, and seizes her mouth in a hard kiss, his tongue thrusting against hers. After a moment he pulls away and looks at her, his breath ragged, his eyes hazy.

"You said yes."

She takes a deep breath. She can still stop.

Instead, she says it again. "Yes."

He holds her face in his hands, and she can feel the heat underneath his skin, the power underneath his gentle, caressing touch.

"No games," he says.

Xena smirks at him. "Depends on the game."

Ares leans over and kisses her again, slowly and tenderly this time, and in the heat of that kiss, everything around them becomes a swirling, glittering blur. When it clears, they are in a room somewhere, a dark red room filled with the dim quavering glow of golden candles.

"Where -- " she starts, but he stops her with another kiss that takes away her words and her breath. Her arms go up, not to push him away but to pull him closer, to feel the strength of his body against hers, the heat of his cock flattened against her stomach. He shudders and then pulls back, sucking hungrily on her lips as he breaks away. For a long moment, their eyes lock. She wants him inside her, slamming hard into her, pushing deeper until she's crying out and clutching at him as she comes.

She leans over to kiss him again, but he holds her back. "You've always wanted me," he says, huskily.

She shakes her head and smirks. "You are -- such an arrogant son of a bitch."

He tilts her head back, kisses her neck. "Was that a yes?"

"Ooh -- " she manages a laugh, gasping -- "I rest my case."

With a low chuckle, he moves his lips higher, pleased at the moan vibrating in her throat. "So do I."

She leans forward and brushes her lips, lightly, against his. "I want you now."

"Do you." His eyes sparkle with flecks of gold in the candlelight. "Am I still bad for you?" he says, teasing; or maybe not just teasing.

And then, in one heady moment, she realizes she's not afraid anymore. She gives him a wicked, lopsided grin. "Oh, I hope you are."

They kiss again, wildly, blindly, hands freely roaming over each other's bodies, flickers of fire dancing in the blackness before her eyes. She pulls him toward the bed, but it's he who puts his hands on her shoulders and eases her down on her back. He kneels on the floor, moving her legs apart. He kisses her stomach and she arches toward him, her hands clutching at the sheets.

"Very bad," he says as his lips travel downward to kiss her. He pauses a moment to look up at her; their eyes connect and she feels a new jolt of desire at the sight of him, kneeling between her thighs and looking at her like this -- then lowering his head until his mouth is on her again. The heat sears her, melts her, as he teases her with feather-light touches and then sucks hard and stops when she's almost undone. She doesn't know how much of this she can take, but there's more; his finger slides into her, in and out, stroking her inside while he still torments her bud with his tongue, and then with a dim shock she feels him nudge at her other opening, so slick with arousal that his finger enters easily. A spasm of pleasure racks her and she calls out, Ares! All she can say now is oh yes there -- don't stop -- feels so good -- and it does, this sensation of being filled completely, taken completely, his fingers moving in a steady rhythm matched by his tongue. She's shaking all over, so out of control that he has to hold her down with his other hand to keep her from trashing around. The pleasure inside her tightens into a knot -- Don't stop please don't stop -- a molten core that burns hotter and hotter -- yes yes yes -- and he never stops, drawing spasm after spasm from her with his hand and mouth until she comes, ripples of heat running through her body.

She's out of breath, her hair damp with sweat, her mouth dry; her body feels so light that she could be floating, so heavy she can't move a limb. Her eyes still closed, she feels him move up and lie next to her.

Finally, Xena opens her eyes to see Ares looking at her, and it's not a look of possession but of desire and tenderness and something like amazement. She smiles a little.

"Very bad," she murmurs, and their lips meet in a long, sweet, musky kiss.

He is about to move on top of her, but she pushes him back and raises herself up so that now she is the one leaning over him, her hair spilling on his shoulder. She runs her hand over his chest and tweaks his nipple; he gasps, and it makes her smile.

"I did say I'd make you pay," she says, her voice a silky purr, and leans down for a quick soft kiss as her hand wanders lower.

"You forget I'm still -- in charge." His breath hitches and she laughs lightly, brushing her lips over his mouth.

"Are you?" Her fingertips graze his cock, down and up the hard length of him, and he moans into her kiss; then, his moan turns to a cry and his hips lift off the bed, thrusting toward her, as she finds the spot where she knows her caress will give the most pleasure.

"Xena -- "

She hums softly in response as she continues to stroke him, relishing the power of her touch.

"Not like this -- " panting, he lifts his head up and catches, hungrily, her lips -- "I want to be inside you -- "

She stops and kisses him back, presses her forehead to his, her eyes closed.

"You want everything," she murmurs, before kissing him again; and then straddles him and dives in for another kiss, a hard and almost brutal one this time.

"I want more than that," he says.

She shifts her body until her breasts are flattened on his soft-furred chest and her velvet folds are pressed to his cock. She feels a giddy joy at the sounds he makes, at the little tremors that flit across his face, the quiver of his lips; and when she finally takes him inside, her voice joins his in pure pleasure.

After a few moments she slows down, pinning him under her so that he can't move, tightening her inner muscles around him and watching his features dissolve into bliss. She leans down and covers his face, his eyes, his mouth with hot quick kisses, licks his earlobe and darts her tongue inside his ear, and finally pauses to say, "Admit it -- you love it."

"What?" he says hoarsely, his mouth pressed to her hair.

"Me being in charge."

She starts to move again in long, slow strokes; but this time he stops her, his body rigid with the effort. His hands clench on her shoulders and he pulls her up, gently but firmly, until he can lean over to suck at her nipple. She closes her eyes, swaying a little in his arms, and surrenders to the heat of his mouth on her breast. His lips trail higher, to her neck, to her face; and when his mouth is nearly touching hers and the warmth of his breath is brushing her lips, he says, "I love you."

An almost-painful tenderness welling deep in her chest, she opens her eyes so that she can see him; and, her hand clasped on the back of his neck, she kisses him, putting into this long kiss everything she can't or won't say.

At first, she doesn't even notice that he eases her down on her back so that he's on top. And then it doesn't matter, because Ares is making love to her and kissing her face and her lips and she is returning his kisses, her hands roaming over his back, her hips arching to meet him. Somewhere deep inside her, the fever is starting to rise again; and, capturing his lips again in a kiss that grows frantic, she knows he is near his own release.

Afterwards, they lie together, his arms around her, his eyes half-closed in quiet contentment as he strokes her hair. Does he think she'll stay with him? Does she want to? Right now, she doesn't want to think about that. Right now, here in his bed, she is at peace, with herself and with the God of War.