Mortals. The God of War snorted in disgust. Olympus deliver him from mortals. He lifted his head to look at the figure asleep in an abandoned sprawl next to him and amended that. All except one.
He should have fried her impertinent disrespectful mortal butt. Except for the fact that he knew the king wouldn't have liked him to do that. And besides which, she was already dead.
Some of those stories had been kind of hot though… Desire began to stir in him. He knew Iphicles to be an adventurous and passionate lover, but her tale had shown him the king in a different light. If he really liked being in control that much, it might be fun to try it. And he certainly was not going to let some mortal bimbo score over him. Maybe he'd let Iphicles have his way…
He was beginning to get hard just thinking about the king. He decided that Iphicles had slept long enough. He moved close against the king where he lay deeply asleep on his front, feeling the warmth radiating from the tanned body as his hand traced a light path up one outflung muscled arm to tangle in Iphicles’ hair tumbling over his shoulder. The king stirred slightly, but slept on.
“Iphicles.” Ares’ voice in his ear was a throaty purr. The temptation just to move on top of the sleeping king and let him wake up to the rhythm of the god inside him… But even as the god thought it, Iphicles stirred again, turning over onto his back, his eyes still closed, his breathing remaining deep in sleep pattern. The sight which met Ares’ eyes caused him to reconsider his plan for awakening the king. Copper curls tumbling back onto the pillow framed that beautiful face with its chiselled cheekbones, long eyelashes which in sleep curved in deceptive innocence against his cheeks, full lips slightly apart as he breathed softly and rhythmically. Ares’ gaze moved greedily overthe king’s sleeping form to his enticingly broad chest, taut brown nipples which just begged for Ares’ attention, and that beautiful cock, even in sleep responding to Ares’ closeness, hardening as the god’s hand trailed across the king’s chest… Ares bent and bit the king’s earlobe. “Time you were up,” he advised Iphicles as the king’s eyes flew open in rude awakening.
Even before his eyes had cleared of sleep, the king’s hand was reaching up to the god. Ares felt a rush of excitement as Iphicles responded to his kiss, his thrusting tongue, with an eagerness belying the recency of his awakening.
Once he was sure the king was fully awake he lay back and let the king's tantalising mouth move over his body. A teasing promise of things to follow. Take me. Anything you want - just do it. He tried to say it. He really did. But the words wouldn't come out.
He looked up into Iphicles' dark passion-filled eyes above him. What was it she'd said - did he trust Iphicles enough? Him, Ares, trust a mortal? The woman was obviously mad as well as dead. And yet, there was a part of him which knew that he could trust the king. A part of him which very reluctantly admitted that perhaps he already did.
But it wasn't as simple as that for him - she didn't realise. He was a god, for gods' sake. He couldn't give a mortal power over him, it wouldn't be right. It would threaten the entire natural order of things. He was a god. He had to stay in control. It was just the way things had to be. Good. That was that sorted then.
Ares gasped at the sudden sharp pain as the king bit him.
"Ares, would you please pay attention when I'm trying to fuck you?" Iphicles demanded.
He settled on his side, head propped up on his hand as he considered Ares. "So are you going to tell me?"
Tell him that he'd just been thinking about the conversation he'd had with Iphicles' dead wife about the king's sexual habits? Ares might not be the world's expert on relationships, but he had the feeling that that was not a good line to take.
So the only answer Iphicles received was Ares leaning forward, mouth meeting mouth, the god's tongue driving hungrily between full lips. Iphicles responded as Ares had hoped, and the subject was shelved. For the time being.
Introspection was not something in which Ares normally indulged. But days had passed and he still hadn't been able to get her words out of his head. There was something about the idea of giving the king control which excited him at the same time as it disturbed him.
Iphicles was not a submissive lover. Generous yes, but never submissive. But all the time, Ares knew he could disregard the king if he so chose, overpower him if he so chose. To yield control… to deliberately put himself into Iphicles' power…
The God of War groaned as the king's mouth closed around his aching cock. His hands tightened in Iphicles' hair and his hips jerked up from the bed as he began to thrust into the warm wetness. Gods, but the king was good at this. Where others just went down on him, Iphicles took delight in making the god want it. Really want it. He'dtake his time, explore every inch of Ares' muscular body with his hands, lips and tongue, before his tantalising mouth finally surrounded him.
Ares pulled the king's head up and kissed him savagely, rolling over until he was on top of the king. He wanted the king *now*. He wanted to thrust into him, to hear him gasping his name, and to watch the expression on his face as he came. He'd never known that impulse before, but with Iphicles he loved to see the moment of ecstasy, the king's wild abandon.
The king's hands wrapped into the god's hair keeping Ares' mouth hard against his as he fiercely returned Ares' kiss. Then Iphicles drew his head back and looked at him. "I hadn't finished," he told the god, and firmly pushed him over onto his back again.
Normally Ares would have used his godly strength to persuade the king that, actually, he *had* finished. But this time he didn't. This time he lay there and allowed the king to take him in his mouth again, taking the god’s cock all the way in, then pulling back and running his tongue with devastating sensuality around the swollen tip, all the time
his fingers lightly brushing Ares' inner thighs, his nails leaving trails of pain and pleasure on sensitive flesh. And Ares lay there and let him.
Iphicles' head raised at last. Amber eyes met dark. Ares could see the uncertainty in the king at this hitherto unknown passivity. Iphicles was unsure about it, unsure what it signified.
Ares looked back at him, his eyes guarded.
"Ares?" Iphicles moved up the bed so that he could bend to brush the god's lips with his own. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." His voice was suddenly husky. The desire he felt for this beautiful mortal. It was his eyes, something in his eyes when he looked at Ares… As Ares watched, the warmth in them was slowly being overlaid by something else. Concern? Anxiety?
He couldn't speak. He couldn't say it. "I want -" Gods his throat was dry.
This was intolerable - he was the God of War, damn it.
"I want you to take control."
There. He'd said it. The earth remained steady. The sky hadn't fallen in. As far as he knew, Mount Olympus was still standing.
The shock in Iphicles' face was swiftly replaced by a fierce hunger, causing a tightening in Ares' stomach, a thrill of anticipation as he saw the arousal surge through the king.
Iphicles bent his head to Ares and his tongue slipped briefly between the god's lips. Ares almost groaned at the sensation. Then soft full lips and skilful tongue were moving down his neck, tracing along his collar bone, before trailing over his chest to his nipples. Iphicles' tongue flicked lightly, repeatedly, across the taut flesh and then hetook one of the sensitised peaks between his teeth and bit it. Ares' hips jerked eagerly upwards in reaction, and he reached up to pull the king's teasing mouth hard against his, wanting to feel his body pressed tight to his, to stop the delicious torture.
But Iphicles caught hold of the god's hands and pinned them against the bed. "Not yet Ares."
Iphicles continued single-mindedly moving his tormenting mouth over the god's entire body. Ares began to writhe under his hold as that relentless tongue continued its provocative activity and his need for release became more desperate. Gods he couldn't take any more of this. This mortal king's teasing was driving him to distraction.
A moan escaped Ares as, kneeling between Ares’ legs, Iphicles finally bent his head to the god's cock. Briefly, so briefly, he touched it with his lips, and his tongue flicked out. Then he released his hold on Ares’ left hand to take the god’s cock into his hand, running one finger over the leaking tip and moving down the shaft, covering Ares with his own fluid until the god's cock was slick with it. Iphicles' maddening touch sliding up and down his length was too much for the god. Ares thrust helplessly into Iphicles' hand until with an inarticulate noise he came, pulsing against the king's hand, his cum spilling onto his own stomach.
Ares was still breathing hard, flushed with passion, when his eyes opened to find the king's gaze concentrated on his face. For an instant he was taken off-guard by the intensity of the look in Iphicles' eyes. The expression was not unfamiliar to him, but he realised now that normally the king shielded it, purposely kept it damped down. This time it blazed unmistakably from his eyes. And Ares suddenly recognised that Iphicles was returning his trust. His breath caught as he looked up into the king's face.
Ares' thoughts stopped abruptly as Iphicles very deliberately raised his hand to his mouth and licked Ares' cum off it. Then he held the same hand out to Ares. Ares licked, tasting himself, tasting the king, and began to harden again as he saw the sudden sheer animal desire in the king.
Iphicles lowered his head to Ares' erect nipple and bit it hard. The god arched upwards at the sensation and Iphicles slammed him back against the bed, strong thighs between the god's muscular legs, his cock against the god's growing excitement. He bent close over the god as he held him down,his breath warm on Ares' cheek, his lips still wet with Ares' cum, pushing slightly with his hips, goading Ares until the god's hips were thrusting upwards against the king's and his erection was straining for release. Iphicles' eyes remained locked to Ares', and his lips hovered close, so close, to the god's mouth.
Then he released the god's hands and straightened up. Ares stared at the beautiful figure kneeling arrogantly between his legs and reached out his hand. The king's cock jerked against his seeking fingers and the god's breath quickened. He wanted, oh gods how he wanted, to take the king in his mouth, to taste him, to work him until he came in Ares’ mouth. The king was breathing fast at Ares’ touch, his head back, his eyes half-closed.
"Use your cum." His voice was raw.
Ares trailed his fingers through the cum on his stomach and then slid them over the king's hardness. He had barely done so before the king was moving. With unexpected swiftness, Ares found himself face-down on the bed, a weight on top of him, strong hands holding him down. For an instant, he knew the impulse to fight, to resist, then he became aware of the warmth of Iphicles’ body above his, the king’s low voice against his ear as he leant close in to the god. And felt the tip of the king’s cock teasing him. He moaned softly as Iphicles released one hand to begin to prepare the god for him, slipping his fingers over the moist head of his own cock before sliding one finger inside him, followed by two, then the width of three fingers working him.
Ares was groaning again at the sensation, hips moving to push his erection against the silken sheet beneath him, seeking release from the exquisite teasing. And then he felt Iphicles begin to enter him, felt the sudden jolting of almost unbearable pleasure to nerve endings he hadn’t known he had. He tried to meet the king’s thrusts into him but he couldn’t even lift his hips beneath Iphicles’ thrusting weight enough to rub his aching cock against those sensuously smooth sheets. It slid maddeningly against the silk with each thrust Iphicles made, each one bringing Ares closer to coming at the feel of the king’s cock deep inside him, driving into him, filling him, and the luxurious caress of the sheet against his cock. He was powerless beneath the king. No longer could he take his own pleasure - all he could do was react to the king’s actions. Gods it was… *liberating*?
Ares would have laughed in disbelief if the king hadn’t at that moment thrust so deeply into him that he thought he was going to come there and then. He cried out at the sensation of the king’s thick cock filling him, then groaned as the king withdrew again. When thought was again possible he realised he must be losing it - how in hades could it be liberating to let someone control you? But it - oh gods, that felt so good, he was groaning helplessly, drowning out the king’s sounds of pleasure - it removed any responsibility. He could do nothing - all that was left for him was to drown in the sensations Iphicles was sending surging through him. Oh gods Iphicles - gods - he was going to - he was going to - And then Iphicles stopped.
It took Ares a moment to realise that the king had withdrawn completely from him. In that instant of confused frustrated outrage, Iphicles turned him back over again. Gods, what am I - a damned pancake - flitted incongruously through Ares’ mind before the king’s lips touched his cock again. The god was trembling at the touch, the king’s featherlight teasing on his cock. Anything more and he’d have come, but this tantalising kept him in a state of tortured unfulfilment.
He was lost, dazed by raw unfulfilled desire. He was vaguely aware of Iphicles’ mouth leaving his cock, then the king’s tongue started to play his nipples in a way that left him incoherent with need. Sudden pain shocking through him cut through the haze of craving that was consuming him. His eyes snapped open at the jolt of pain which somehow became focused in his straining erection. He looked up at the king above him. There was blood on Iphicles’ lips as he leaned in to the god, and his tongue slipped between Ares’ lips. Gently at first, allowing the god to taste the metallic flavour of his own blood on the king’s tongue, then thrusting in. Ares groaned deep within his throat as the king’s tongue thrust into his mouth, fucking it, roughly demanding the god’s response.
Ares writhed helplessly as the king held him against the bed by his wrists, refusing to touch any other part of the god’s body as he claimed his mouth. And then Iphicles’ mouth was again moving over Ares’ body. Sometimes licking, teasing with his tongue, sometimes teeth sinking into flesh, drawing blood.
Until finally, finally, when Ares was moaning almost constantly with sensation, out of control beneath the king’s ministering mouth, without warning Iphicles suddenly thrust into the god again. Ares almost came just at the feel of Iphicles inside him.
The king was still for an instant, then settled in deeper, pushing into Ares, pushing him over the edge as he thrust hard into him. The sight of Iphicles’ face above him, completely lost in sensual pleasure, and the feelings that the king’s wild rhythmic movements were sending through him, were too much for the god. In an explosion of sensation, crying out in uncontrollable pleasure at the final release, Ares came into the king’s hand. At the convulsive tightening of the god’s muscles around his cock, Ares’ warm cum flooding over his hand, the king too lost control. Fiercely crying Ares’ name, Iphicles rammed again and again deep into the god, finally coming in an intense shuddering orgasm. He collapsed onto the god and they lay sweating and panting, sprawled bonelessly, sweat, blood and cum mingling.
After a time they settled more comfortably, hands idly wandering over the other's body, no longer intending arousal, but loath to relinquish their intimacy.
Ares lazily moved the king's damp hair out of the way and kissed the smoothly muscled shoulder. So maybe the queen had had a point. That had been… unlike anything he could remember. He buried his face in Iphicles’ hair and breathed in deeply, relishing the scent of his lover.
And then his eyes flew open as he realised. Gods! And he'd thought that *he* was manipulative…
She'd known that if he could give control to Iphicles, he was admitting that he trusted him in a way he'd trusted no other. Admitting that he was special to him. That he - well, to use *her* word for want of a better - that he loved him.
As he held Iphicles' relaxed body close to him, felt the warmth of the king's breath against his skin, and remembered the look in Iphicles' eyes, Ares knew that the queen had been right about something else as well. He was going to find a way to keep Iphicles with him. Always.