Son Of Hades

Chapter Six: To Keep A Deal

The warm water, infused with lavender essential oil (because even a death-row inmate deserves a little aromatherapy, right?), swirled around me. Bubbles, the kind that promised relaxation but delivered mostly a mild tingling sensation, clung to my skin. My off-key rendition of Mica Paris’s “I Never Felt Like This Before” – more “I Never *Sounded* Like This Before” – filled the bathroom. Ten years. Ten years since I’d felt this utterly, gloriously relaxed. Ten years since pain hadn't been my constant companion.

This bath was my personal Everest, a summit of solitude I’d painstakingly climbed. I closed my eyes, the steamy air a comforting veil. And that’s when I felt it. A prickling sensation, not from the bath salts, but from… something else entirely. Someone *watching* me.

My eyes snapped open. Sure enough, lurking in the shadows behind the shower curtain was Zagreus.

The steam curled around me, a hazy veil hiding my nakedness from the world, but not from him. Zagreus. The god of the Underworld, his icy blue eyes burning into me from the shadows beyond the flickering candlelight. It wasn't a predatory gaze, not exactly. It felt…observant. Like a master painter meticulously studying his subject, capturing every subtle curve of light and shadow on my skin.

Honestly, the whole situation was incredibly surreal. Most people wouldn't expect to find a Greek god watching them bathe. But then again, my life's been a bit… unconventional lately.

"You know," I said, my voice echoing slightly in the small bathroom, "I’ve always appreciated art. But being a muse for a god? That’s a new experience."

Silence. Just the gentle hiss of the water and my humming. Then, a voice, low and resonant, like stones tumbling down a mountainside. "You are…unexpected."

"I aim to please," I replied, a giggle bubbling up. "Though I must admit, I'm a little short on the heroic deeds department. I mostly excel at escaping the hospital and reading ancient mythology.”

He chuckled, a sound like wind chimes in a hurricane. "You have a spirit that transcends mortal limitations."

"Well," I said, smiling, "if my limited time on Earth isn't enough to achieve greatness, why not go for the impossible?" I splashed some water playfully. "Who needs heroic deeds when you have a divine audience?"

"Tell me," his voice was closer now, the shadows shifting, "What do you dream of?"

"Oh, loads of things!" I exclaimed, wiping the water from my face. "To see the Parthenon, to finally finish my thesis on the symbolism in ancient Greek pottery, maybe even to meet a grumpy but secretly adorable satyr. Oh, and to win the lottery, of course!”

He leaned further into the light, and for a second, the faintest hint of a smile played on his lips.

"A warrior of wisdom," he murmured, the word a caress on my ears.

“More of a stubbornly optimistic librarian, but warrior sounds way cooler," I admitted, a twinkle in my emerald eyes. "You know, I’ve read that Hades was… complicated. Not entirely the villain everyone makes him out to be.”

"The perceptions of mortals are often… flawed," he said, a hint of something akin to sadness in his voice.

“Precisely! Misunderstandings and judging a book by its cover,” I responded. “That’s why I love history. It puts things in perspective. It's full of complex people in complex situations. Even Gods.”

He was silent for a moment, observing me. Then, a quiet, almost hesitant question: "Do you fear death?"

"Yes, of course," I answered truthfully, "but not as much as I fear not living. I want to experience everything I can, feel everything deeply, savor each moment. That's what I'm focusing on. Not darkness, but light. Even if it’s a candle flickering in the shadow of the Underworld.”

He didn't reply verbally but the intensity in his gaze changed. It was softer now, more…understanding. And in that shared moment of quiet contemplation, as the steam swirled and the candlelight flickered, I knew, somehow, that even a God of the Underworld could appreciate the beauty of a life fully lived, even if it was a life borrowed from the shadow of an inevitable end. And in that knowledge, I felt a overpowering peace.

A heat hazed around Zagreus as he knelt beside me. He softened, his usual stark features melted by a gentle light that seemed to emanate from him. He was washing me, not with water, but with starlight, it felt like. Tiny motes of shimmering gold danced across my skin as his fingertips, impossibly light, traced the curves of my body.

My honey-brown hair, usually a tangled mess, felt impossibly smooth, unburdened by the weight of the wake world's day to day. I felt… whole. He didn't speak, and yet his touch was a symphony. A silent declaration of something profound, something that transcended the boundaries of our different worlds.

The basin of starlight seemed to hum with a low, resonant thrum, resonating with the beat of my own heart, which felt oddly stronger, more certain, in his presence. The scent of sun-warmed earth and forgotten magic filled my senses.

A faint smile played on my lips as I felt the lingering touch of his fingers on my temple – a whisper of reassurance.

He moved to my hand, gently cupping it, washing over my chapped skin, a silent promise of healing. It wasn’t just physical; a warmth spread through my veins, chasing away the persistent chill that had clung to me for so long.

* * *

A moment of pure, breathless intimacy. Then, a shift. The starlight intensified, forming a shimmering gateway that pulsed with iridescent colors.

“Clio,” a voice, soft as the rustling of ancient parchment, spoke beside me. It was Clio – myself, but different. Older, wiser, with eyes that held the gleam of centuries. The *reflection* from the valley stream is here in the tub with me, is this the same water used? “He loves you, little bird. But this… this is not simply love. He is unveiling you. He sees the vastness you are capable of, the stories yet to be written in your soul. He’s showing you the path.”

Before I could think or say more, my vision of the older me in the tub disappeared with Zagreus dipping the cloth into the water to rinse me.

Zagreus rose; his dark eyes filled with a tenderness that stole my breath away. He gestured to the bed just passed the doorway of the bathroom.

* * *

He offered his hand, and I took it. It was warm, alive, and the candlelight pulsed even brighter as we stepped into the bedroom. I know what awaited me on that bed and the warm water dripping off my body as we walked over raised my sensations. This is it... Just last night I had my first taste of wine, first kiss, first climax and now here I am walking to a bed where I will be having s*x with a FREAKING god.

This is the night we could no longer resist. He took me to the large bed, he knelt before me, his usual confident self was replaced with a raw vulnerability that mirrored my own.

"Clio," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "I can't pretend anymore. I need you. Not just to survive, but to live." His hand in mine, his touch sending sparks through my body. He kissed me, a slow, deliberate exploration that stole my breath away.

He knelt before me, his gaze intense. "I will not force you, Clio. But know this, I desire you. I crave you. And I will do everything in my power to make this…pleasurable."

His touch surprisingly gentle despite his imposing size. He kissed my neck, a slow, deliberate exploration that sent shivers down her spine.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me what pleases you."

I, emboldened by his vulnerability, found my own voice. "I…I want you to be in control."

A flicker of something akin to relief crossed Zagreus's face. He rose, his eyes blazing with a possessive fire. He retrieved a length of silken cord from a nearby table; his movements deliberate and controlled. "As you wish," he murmured, his voice growling low. "But be warned, Clio. Once I have you, I won't let go. You will be mine, forever."

He was dominant, demanding, but careful, and aware of my arousal. He tied my wrists with silken cords, the gentle restraint heightening my senses. He whispering promises of pleasure, of surrender. I couldn't help but arched against him, a whimper escaping my lips.

"Please," I breathed, the word a prayer.

He obliged, his touch becoming more insistent, more demanding. He kissed me with passion and fire; I was half laid down fully naked while he was still clothed. His smile widened, a predatory gleam entering his eyes. He moved closer, straddling my hips, his weight a pleasant pressure. He held my already pinned hands above my head with one hand, his grip firm but not painful. With the other, he began to explore, his fingers tracing the curve of my breast, dipping lower to tease the sensitive skin of my stomach. He knew exactly what he was doing, building the tension with excruciating care. He circled and teased, his touch light and fleeting, driving me slowly mad. I arched against him, desperate for more, but he held back, his control absolute.

"Beg, Clio," he whispered, his breath hot against my ear. "Beg for my touch."

The words were a spark, igniting a fire within me. I bucked against him, my body aching with need. "Please, Zagreus," I gasped, the word torn from my throat. "Please, I beg you."

He chuckled, a low, triumphant sound. "And what do you beg for, little historian warrior?"

"For you," I moaned, my voice thick with desire. "For your touch. For… everything." He released my hands, and I immediately reached for him, pulling him closer. He captured my mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep, mirroring the rhythm of my body. His hand slipped between my legs, his fingers finding the sensitive bud of my c**t. He began to stroke slowly at first, then faster and harder, building the pressure until I was on the edge of oblivion.

"Permission, Clio" he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "You need to ask permission to come" The question was a formality, a final act of control before the storm. He plunged his fingers fast and slow, my center soaking and aching to burst.

"Yes," I cried, my body convulsing. "Yes, please! I beg of you Zagreus, please let me come" He increased the pressure, and I shattered, a wave of pure pleasure washing over me. I cried out his name, my body trembling in the aftermath.

My breath was in a paced rhythm with my heart beat. I lick my lips and his eyes told that he was not quite satisfied and I remembered he wasn't done yet. His essence still has not been placed inside me.

The silken sheets felt impossibly soft against my skin, a stark contrast to the rough stone and echoing silence I'd expected from the Underworld. Zagreus, the very definition of a warrior, knelt between my thighs, his icy blue eyes burning with an intensity that both thrilled and intimidated me. Just moments ago, his fingers had danced a wicked symphony within me, coaxing moans I barely recognized from my own throat. Now, he shifted, his dark hair falling across his brow as he looked at me with an almost reverent expression.

"Are you ready, Clio?" His voice, a low rumble, sent shivers down my spine. I swallowed, the anticipation thick in the air.

"Ready for what, exactly?" I teased, a playful smirk tugging at my lips.

A ghost of a smile touched his own. "To be tasted," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the juncture of my thighs. A gasp escaped me. I'd read about this, of course, in those forbidden corners of the romance texts I had hid in my room. But to experience it, with Zagreus, the Guardian of Souls, no less...

He leaned closer, bracing himself on his hands, his powerful arms flexing. I could feel his warm breath against my skin, the scent of sandalwood and something wild, untamed, filling my senses. He paused, seeking my permission with those intense eyes. "Tell me if it's too much, little historian," he whispered, the nickname sending a delicious tremor through me.

I nodded; my voice caught in my throat. He lowered his head, his tongue tracing a slow, deliberate path along my inner thigh. I arched against the silk, my hands gripping the sheets as he explored, teasing me with his expertise. The sensations were overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure building within me. Then, his tongue found its mark, and a cry escaped me, raw and unrestrained. He lapped and swirled, each stroke sending sparks of pure ecstasy through my body. He continued as my body became a symphony of its own, enjoying every lap and swirl he gave. His tongue is long, like a snake, something I wasn't prepared for but enjoyed without any concern or qualm other than him not stopping.

"Don't stop, please" I begged.

A hum almost growl vibrated through his throat to lips to my aching wet core "I don't plan on it, little historian, my love." He kissed my folds before running a lap one more time "You taste too sweet..." he lapped " too pure..." he swirled "Mine"

When I thought I couldn't take anymore, he slipped a finger inside, mimicking the rhythm of his tongue. The combination was devastating. I bucked against him, my hips rising and falling as he expertly played me like a finely tuned instrument. My vision blurred, the world narrowing to the feel of his mouth, his finger, the exquisite pressure building and building.

"Zagreus," I moaned, my voice a desperate plea. He responded with a low growl, his pace quickening, his attention unwavering. My body kept moving and it wasn't to move away from him, but I had no control over myself. He was a master, a sensual artist, and I was his willing canvas. The pleasure crested, a wave of pure, unadulterated bliss washing over me. I cried out again, my body convulsing in release.

He continued his ministrations, savoring my sweet juices, until the tremors subsided and I lay panting, weak and utterly satisfied. He lifted his head, his eyes shining with a possessive light.

"Sweet Clio," he murmured, his voice husky with passion. "You taste like nectar and sin, I could do this every night, devouring you." He kissed me then, a deep, lingering kiss that promised more to come. And as I looked into his eyes, I knew we are not done yet with our exploration of each other.

"Like I said my little historian I won’t force you, I enjoy pleasing you this way, loving you and controlling, I am a dominant man, and I do end up getting what I want in the end. And I want you, but I will learn to be patient for you." his eyes gleam into mine with sincerity and promise.

"But your essence... the underworld..." worry escaped my tone I was trying to hide.

"For now, you will have my essence another way." His sincerity and promise now a dark yearning that pointed down on his own body.

My emerald eyes followed Zagreus as he moved across the dimly lit chamber. He was a god sculpted from shadow and raw power. Each movement was deliberate, a dance of controlled strength. He discarded his breastplate, the metallic clang echoing in the vast room, followed by his tunic, revealing a torso carved with the lines of countless battles. My breath hitched. He was magnificent. A wave of arousal washed over me, chasing away the last vestiges of fear. This wasn't the underworld I had read about in my history books, a place of eternal torment. This was… different. This was him. His icy blue eyes locked with mine, a flicker of amusement dancing within their depths.

"Enjoying the view, Clio?" His voice was a low rumble, a tremor that vibrated through the very air.

"Perhaps," I replied, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. "Though I do find myself at a distinct disadvantage."

He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. "A disadvantage easily remedied… or perhaps, enhanced." He approached the bed, his presence filling the space, stealing the air from my lungs. He knelt beside me, his gaze intense, possessive. He ran a calloused thumb across my cheek, the gentle touch a stark contrast to his imposing physique. "Tell me if it is too much."

"I will" I breathlessly replied.

He leaned closely, his lips brushing against my ear. "I intend to push you, Clio. To test your limits. Are you sure you're ready for this?" his eyes linger down, indicating what is to come.

"You don't mean..." I trailed my words knowing the answer already. My heart raced but not what I was expecting "More than ready," I whispered, my voice laced with a desire that surprised even me.

He untied my wrists, but instead of freeing me, he brought my hands to his chest, pressing them against the warm, hard muscle. "Good girl," he murmured, his breath hot against my skin. He kissed me then, a deep, possessive kiss that stole my breath and ignited a fire in my soul. His tongue traced the seam of my lips, demanding entry, and I eagerly granted it. The kiss deepened, a whirlwind of passion and raw need. He pulled back, his eyes burning with desire. "I want you, Clio," he rasped, his voice thick with lust. "More than I've ever wanted anything."

"Then take me," I breathed, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of the moment.

An animal like growl that could fear the most fiercest being roared out from him. It shook me a bit but almost immediately replaces with need. Need of him.

He took out his member, a long and thick c**k that I shook in terror, how is *THAT* going to fit in me? A worry I am glad I will think about on another night. Zagreus sat on the bed, his hands wrapped around my hair to keep out of my face and to lean me down.

"On your knees little historian" he demanded.

I do as I am told and go on my knees aside from the bed. I look up at him with determination, I will do this, I will not back down. I open my mouth hoping he will guide me to know what to do. A trust that I am quickly giving him.

"Stick your tongue out as you open your mouth." He instructed me and I did. He slowly slid his member on my tongue and pushed himself in my mouth. The exhale he gave, the way his eyes went darker, I know this feeling well from moments ago. He is enjoying this. He began to stroke himself in my mouth, back and forth.

On a contrary to what he may think, I have literally a box full of erotic romance books that I had hid under my bed for the last seven years. From what I have read, I wondered if it really works...

I moved my head with his rhythm of back and forth but adding my own flare to it, sucking and swirling my tongue around his shaft to the tip of the head, moaning to get a god vibration to relax my throat and take in more of him.

"Oh," he released in shock "fuck... Clio, how..." his flung his head back and the hand that held my hair gripped harder.

This gave me my own satisfaction, to know he is not the only one that can give pleasure. I continue my routine and bobbed down and up, keep moaning a bit to fill my mouth, to feel him in the back of my throat till I can't breathe then held there and tighten the back of my throat muscles and come back to the tip and swirl while I gasp for air.

I pushed him to the edge, then pulled back, savoring his gasps, his squirms until finally he filled my mouth with his essence, his power, his love.

"Swallow, my love" a request more than a demand it seemed, and I did as I was told. The essence tasted of something of mix of salt and sweet, a juice that I could drink again, it filled me and a feeling of a battery being recharged hit.

Zagreus laid back on the bed his breath hitched, and I arose from my knees and laid next to him uncertain of what is to come next. However, I do know that in a strange way I have never felt more safe than I do right now next to a god