Contract marriage with my professor

CHAPTER TWELVE

Kronus. She had heard the name before, something about Greek mythology ,however she had never delved deeper, there was never time.

“He was the king of the titans and god of time, according to Greek mythology”. Cam said, his gaze glued to the painting in front of them. “it is said that he ruled the cosmos during the Golden age after castrating and deposing his father”.

Her jaw dropped in shock. The thing with mythologies was that they had depths, scandalous and somewhat sinful depths, they were intriguing.

Cam snickered.

“I can almost picture poor Ouranos’s face, I mean the guy wouldn’t have expected his son to cut of his balls and kick him off his throne”. He said.

She laughed.

“Why does he have a baby held over that monstrous pit of his?”. She asked scrunching her nose.

“He may have kicked his old man out and all, but he lived in fear, there was a prophecy saying he would be in turn overthrown by his son”. Cam explained as he lazily looped his thumbs into his pockets. “He swallowed each of his children as they were born”.

Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she listened to what he was saying, there was something about the way he spoke, it was calming, no rush, no fuss.

“His wife, Rhea, managed to save the youngest, he grew up, forced Kronos to disgorge his swallowed offspring and led the Olympians in a ten year war against the Titans”. He said. “Guess who the youngest one was?”.

He tore his gaze from the painting and looked down at her, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m clueless when it comes to mythologies”. She said laughing.

He rolled his eyes but decided to tell her nonetheless.

“Zeus”. He said.

Her eyes widened in shock.

“No way!”. She laughed.

Something about her laughter was contagious, he joined in.

“Let go”. He said and continued to lead her down the hallway.

She follwe him, still looking back at the painting of Kronus, it was catchy.

“See that one over there?”. He said pointing at another painting. “That’s Aphrodite, known as Venus in Roman mythology”.

Her gaze shifted to the painting her was pointing at, it was of a lady clad in sparse clothing, she was…flawless. Her creamy skin seemed to glow as did her rich black hair, the artist who had painted it knew his stuff. She took in the soft curves of her body, the way the silk fabric of her clothes clung to every bit of her, she was exquisite.

“Aphrodite”. She repeated the name quietly, her gaze still fixed on the painting.

“Greek mythology, known as goddess of s****l love and beauty”. He said smirking ,his gaze rested on the supple flesh of the character’s boobs, he always thought the pink bud peeking from her dress was quiet the teaser. “Primarily, she was known as the goddess of love and fertility, occasionally she presided over marriage”.

Marriage…..why did the word suddenly sound so bitter to her? Probably because she had been forced to get married at such a young age.

“I see”. She said quietly as she tried to clear the thought off her mind, looked up at him only to find him staring lustfully at the painting, she nudged his arm. “Dude!”.

He laughed. Prying his gaze from the painting he shifted it to the one beside it. She followed his gaze.

“That one’s called The rape of Persephone”. He told her.

She stepped toward the painting to get a better view. This one was depicting a nude lady being forcefully taking away by a man riding a carriage, her golden hair was blown back by the wind and her eyes was wide with horror. She took in the little details, the pink flowers in the garden they were in, the gleam in the captivating black eyes of the man abducting her, the soft and delicate curves of the lady, the way the sunlight bounced of her skin, it was breath taking.

“I thought Hades was the good guy”. She said.

“So I heard. However, the use of the word ‘rape’ here doesn’t refer to s****l assault, the word ‘rape’ could be translated to ‘seize’ or ‘abduction’ in Latin”. He explained. “So, abduction of Persephone”.

Again, her lips formed an ‘o’ as she nodded, digesting the new information. She stared at the painting a while longer, it was beautiful, amidst the brightness and beauty of nature, an abduction was taking place, it had dark humor.

“It is also said that Persephone was raped by her father, Zeus”. Cam said as he began walking farther down the hall.

“What?!”. She asked surprised. This was the kind of scandalous depths she had been talking about.

“There are a lot of stories, can’t be sure which is legit”. He said. “Come on”.

She followed close behind him, her head moving from side to side as her gaze traveled from one painting to another, each one more scandalous than the last.

“You know what this hallway is called?”. He asked her.

She shook her head, she could guess but not accurately.

“Olympus”. He laughed.

“I can see why”. She said laughing as well. “Though I wouldn’t have guessed that”.

“What would have been your guesses?”. He asked her.

“Ion know, hall of erotism maybe”. She said chuckling. “The sensual hallway”.

He laughed.

“Quite the dirty little basket you are”. He teased. “But yeah, Hall of erotism and The sensual hallway does sound logical”.

She nodded, a smile still on her lips as he gestured to yet another painting of a beautiful woman with long but extremely revealing clothes.

“That‘s Medusa”. He told her. “You must have heard of her, everyone has”.

She had heard of Medusa, indeed, but the painting wasn’t depicting the medusa she had heard about.

“Not what I had imagined”. She said.

He snickered.

“You had imagined the snakes for hair and all right?’. He said. “if there was a ‘before and after’ comparison of Medusa, this one would be before, and the an image in which she is depicted as you imagined would be after”.

“Why?”. She asked as she tore her gaze from the painting.

He gave her a dry look before shaking his head.

“You really are clueless in this aren’t you?”. He said, without waiting for a reply he continued: “Medusa was an attendant in Athena’s temple, she was the most beautiful maiden there was, and even Athena was jealous of her”.

She listened attentively to what he was saying, she hung onto every word.

“Many wanted to have a go with her, Poseidon included. She declined”. He said. “But our guy Poseidon wasn’t having it, he had his way with her forcefully, poor defiled medusa went back to Athena in hopes of getting justice, but instead, Athena claimed she was unpure and had sullied the pure grounds of her temple, she cursed medusa to be the hideous creature she became”.

“No”. She breathed quietly, her heart breaking from the injustice.

“Sad. Yes”. He said looking down at her, his intensely blue eyes bore into her pair of greens deeply. “You should pull your hair back often”.

It took a second or two for her to catch up. She smiled at the compliment.

“And there’s that one”. He said pointing at a smaller painting depicting a man nude man lying on a beach with a nude woman standing over him, sort of dominating him. She had beautiful dark skin and the most vibrant of black hair cascaded down her waist.

She took in the picture, like the others it was a masterpiece of its own.

“Beautiful”. She said.

“Calypso and Odysseus”, He said “on the island Ogygia, Calypso’s island”.

She would be lying if she said she wasn’t intrigued by his level of knowledge on Greek mythology.

“She entertained him for seven years on the island. Stories have it that she raped him, but like I said, you can’t be sure which is for real”. He said.

“How do you know so much of this?”. She asked in awe.

“I live in a house full of vulgar paintings of mythological characters, Cat. I’m bound to know a thing or two about them”. He said.

She nodded. He had a point.

“And there’s that one”. He said pointing at another painting depicting a woman whose lower half was that of a snake.

Catherine cringed as she let her gaze rake over the painting, she took in the long and sharp claws, the hair which seemed like snakes, the hollow pits which were her eyes, the scales on her skin, it was somewhat scary.

“Medusa after she was cursed?”. She asked him.

He shook his head.

“Lamia, daughter of Poseidon”. He said. “Like many women then, she was f****d by Zeus, they had many children. Unfortunately for her, Hera, Zeus wife; Queen of the Olympians found out of their relationship, mad with jealousy, she killed all of Lamia’s children”.

She shook her head sympathetically. She couldn’t bear the thought of kids being dragged into parental feuds.

“The pain and grief got into Lamia’s head, and she turned like that. She fed on the blood of infants as vengeance for her own”. He said.

“Heavens”. Catherine breathed, suddenly feeling sick.

Cam snickered.

They walked farther down the hallway, occasionally he would point at some and tell her the stories behind them, all the while the rain outside continued to increase, both of them having completely forgotten about the rain and everything else that was outside. It felt as though they had somehow stepped into another time, the time of the Olympians, Catherine had once again managed to forget about the problems troubling her, she had unforgotten until…..

On the far end of the wall was a black and white painting of a couple, this one caught her attention because unlike the other paintings of couples she had seen, this was different, this one seemed so much more erotic to her because this one was depicting the lady on her knees with her hands bound behind her back before the tall and built man whose demeaning gaze rested on her, he had his fingers wrapped around her slender neck and his other hand was clenched in a fist. The painting showed the power imbalance, and for some reason her mind drifted back to her situation with the domineering professor.

For some reason she couldn’t help but visualize herself on her knees before him, his eyes boring into hers while his fingers encircled around her throat. She felt heat begin to stir at the pit of her stomach, it was so intense she had to clench her thighs to appease the area between her legs.

Cameron noticed the painting had her full attention, a smirk curved his lips as he watched her quietly, he watched color flood her cheeks, he watched her eyes darken as her pupils dilated. He watched her with the same intensity of which she stared at the painting, he stared at her like she was yet another masterpiece.