by Reena

"I DON'T WANT ANY MORE TEA!!!" Olga screamed on top of her lungs.

"But you have to drink it. It is good for you," said Helen. "In your condition..."

"My condition is fine. I don't need any more tea. If I take one more sip of this... this... this... yellow juice you call tea, I'll become a Chinese", she yelled again, totally out of control.

No, not quite out of control. More like a Fury in a bad day... Yeah, she sure became bad-tempered when she was sick. And being stuck to bed with flu... That was the worst thing of all. She tried to sit up, but dizziness settled in again, not to mention the splitting headache.

"Are you all right?" asked Helen with concern.

"I'm fine, I'M FINE!!!" Olga yelled again. "Stop acting like my mother. It's just a flu. I'll be fine. Don't you have a house of your own, by the way? Maybe it's time you paid it a visit," she said again sarcastically. Okay, she was being rude. Helen was trying her best to help her and she was being ungrateful. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you. But you know how I am when I'm sick..."

"OK. No offence taken. Here, take a couple of aspirins. They will help get your fever down."

She took the aspirins and washed them down with a glass of water. Then the phone rang. "Hello? Oh, hi sweetheart." She listened to her boyfriend on the other end of the line for a while and then she said: "What? Is he serious?" Another pause. "Oh, okay. Keep me informed will you? Me? Oh, I'm feeling a bit better. Yes, I'll be all right." Another pause. She mumbled something on the phone, a large smile on her face. She hang up the phone and lied on the pillows again.

"Who was it?" asked Helen.

"As if you don't know! Nick, of course," she replied wearily. "His uncle had a heart attack and he's in the intensive care. Nick will stay with his aunt at the hospital tonight, just in case...."

"Do you want me to stay with you tonight? You may need something..." Helen began saying.

"Oh, no, you don't. You're going home and I'll just lie here and get some sleep. Off you go!"
"Are you sure?"

"Positive. Just... go."

"Is there anything you want me to bring you? Another cup of..."

"Don't you DARE mention tea again or I'll strangle you! Don't you understand Greek? GO HOME!!!"

Helen had already opened the door when she said: "Should I bring you some more aspirins?" She heard her friend growling and a pillow landed on her back, just as she was ready to close the door. "Okay, goodnight. See you tomorrow. I hope you'll be in a better temper." More growls from the house.

Olga climbed off the bed and using the last reserves of her strength she approached the door to recover her pillow. She was on her way back to the bed, mumbling at her friends stubbornness, when she heard the doorbell ringing.

"Oh, this time I swear I'll strangle her. How many times must I tell her to use her keys?" she mumbled again, turning around to open the door. With a huge effort she flung the door open yelling once again: "WHAT NOW?" while her head bumped on something she thought was a wall.

"Is this a way to greet a god?" she heard a nasal voice saying sportfully. Dazzled she lifted her head and she found herself staring in a pair of chocolate brown eyes, her dizziness settling in again.

"Ares?" she asked weakly, not believing her eyes.

"In the flesh," he answered with a smile that would melt icebergs, while she stood there gaping.

"Ares?!" she exclaimed again, just moments before she collapsed to the floor.

When she opened her eyes the room was dimly lit by the two oil lamps on her stereo. "Funny!" she thought aloud, sitting up, feeling still a bit dizzy. "I don't remember lighting those lamps."
"I did," she heard a silky voice next to her. "I thought that it'd make you feel more... comfortable."

Olga turned around, only to see a familiar figure, with lovely chocolate eyes and long black curls, dressed in black leather, sitting in an armchair beside her. She rubbed her eyes saying: "What the hell did she put in that tea? I'm hallucinating!"

"No, you're not," she heard him say. She closed her eyes and rubbed them once more, then opened them again, only to discover that he was still sitting there, looking at her with those wonderful eyes, making her heart lose a beat.

"Ares?" she asked again, for the third time, realising she sounded silly.  "What...? How...? Why...?"

He reached out a strong hand, covering her mouth with his fingers to make her stop. "Shhh. Don't say a word. I found out that you're not feeling so well, so I thought I'd come and cheer you up a bit. Unless of course..." he paused for a moment, his fingers now tracing the curves of her lips, "you don't want me to..."

Olga was unable to speak. Her mind was absolutely refusing to think straight. All she concentrate on was the feeling of his fingers on her skin. She took a deep breath, trying to control the feelings his touch had arisen and finally she managed to speak a few words.

"I... I... don't think it's a good idea," she said in a trembling voice. "My head is killing me and I' m dizzy and I have a fever and this flu you know is contagious and you'll get it too and then you'll blame me for everything and..."

"I think we must do something about that babbling of yours," he said, cutting her mid-sentence. "How can I get the flu? I'm a god, remember?" He leaned over her and covered her mouth with his. His lips parted hers, tenderly at first, then harder, his invading tongue exploring hers, demanding pleasure. She heard herself gasp with pleasure while his kiss grew deeper, more demanding, driving her to a sweet dizziness. She let herself slide on the pillows, her hands clung to his massive shoulders, pulling him closer, demanding satisfaction to the passion he had arisen.

He finally broke his kiss. "We must do something about that flu of yours, don't you think?" he said, and without waiting for her answer he continued: "You don't look good. I think some soup will...strengthen you." Before she could answer a bowl of steaming soup appeared in his hands.

"I don't want any soup  she said at last scowling.  "I'm perfect."

"Oh, Olga, don't be a child," he said as if he was really talking to a child and not a 26 year old woman.  "I had this soup prepared just for you. Don't you appreciate my concern for you? You're one of my favourites, you know that."

"But I don't want any soup. I don't like soup," she almost yelled at him, realising at an instant that she was behaving like a child. And then she saw his eyes darken and she knew she had overreacted. Before she could apologise for her audacity, she heard him take a deep breath while he said in a controlled manner: "You'll eat the soup even if I have to chain you to the bed."

He had hardly finished his sentence when he waved his free hand and Olga found her hands chained to her bedposts. She opened her mouth to protest, only to feel a spoonful of soup invade her mouth. She forced herself to swallow the warm liquid to prevent herself from choking, only to find out that it was delicious. Ares let a faint, sexy smile. He knew she'd like it. After all, it wasn't just an ordinary soup. It was guaranteed to put her back in shape for what he had in mind. He had seen to that personally.  "Tasty, isn't it?" he asked smiling mischievously and without waiting for an answer he forced another spoonful of soup in her mouth.

"Now, be a good girl and eat it all  he said, still feeding her.  "In a while you'll feel much, much better . Olga realised that the soup was not only delicious, but she also enjoyed his feeding her. She relaxed and let him continue feeding her, enjoying every moment of the process. Besides, how often does a god do this for a mortal? And the God of War no less!!!

She felt his hand brush her cheek as another spoonful found its way to her mouth and she shuddered. Her eyes followed the movements of his hands, his arms, his flexing muscles. Her mind filled with images of these hands exploring her body, slowly, torturing her skin, driving her to the heights of pleasure. She felt her heart quicken its beat and shuddered again.

"Patience, my dear," he said softly, reading her thoughts, a feathery smile on his lips.  "All things in good time. The night is still young."

Olga began feeling restless. This soup seemed endless. Although she liked the taste of it, what she was craving for was still out of her reach. She longed to run her fingers across those wonderful arms, feel the strong muscles, explore the skin of his divine body. She tried to move her hands, but they were firmly tied to the bedposts. She felt frustration taking over.

Ares knew how she was feeling, but he decided to prolong her agony for a while. He wanted her as ready as possible and he knew it wouldn't take much longer. "Just one more spoonful, dear," he said teasingly,  "and you'll be ready for desert."

Anticipation overcame her. Her gaze met his. She could see amusement in his eyes, along with a latent passion, a promise yet to come true. In an attempt to regain some control of herself she lowered her gaze, only to get magnetised by his full, promising lips. She felt her lips go dry and tried to moisten them just as he was giving her one last spoonful of soup. Most of the spoon's content was spilled on her lips and chin and she felt the warm drops of the soup rolling down.

Leaving the bowl on the table Ares looked at her amused.  "Now, look what you've done. You're a mess. I suppose I have to clean you up," he said, "since your hands are... em... tied up."

He leaned forward, and very slowly he licked the drops of soup from her chin.  "Mmm, that's tasty, very tasty," he murmured, his tongue still sweeping her damp skin.  "I could get used to this, you know."

His tongue traced down her jawline for a few more seconds and then he raised his head to look into her eyes. What he saw pleased him. She stared him straight in the eye, breathing heavily, unable to hide her desire. His eyes slowly started scanning her face, when he exclaimed: "Ooops! I think I've missed a spot. I must take care of it, don't you think?"

He leaned over again, his tongue now on her lips, wiping away the last drops of the spilled soup. She let a heavy sigh while the tip of his tongue kept on teasing her, torturing her, driving her to madness. She raised her head slightly to meet his lips, but his hand gently pushed her back to the pillow.  "Not yet," he whispered, his tongue still carving wet paths on her lips.

When he finally decided that he had tortured her enough, his tongue was replaced by his lips, gently teasing hers, placing soft kisses on the corner of her mouth, her cheek, the tip of her nose. He heard her moan his name again and again and felt her craving for his kiss. He focused again on her lips, nibbling on her underlip again and again until she couldn't take it any more. With a sudden move she raised her head again, pressing her lips hard on his, trying to satisfy her need. This time he didn't stop her. Placing a hand under her head he drew her closer, his tongue parting her lips, invading her mouth, savouring her taste. Her response was immediate, returning his kiss, demanding more.

He finally broke his kiss, only to ask her: "So, does this means you are feeling better?." Without waiting for her answer, he kissed her again, this time harder, more demanding, leaving her breathless. Then his kiss changed to a tempo, his lips gently brushing hers. With his lips still fondling her face he murmured: "Oh, yes, you're definitely better."

With her mind in a haze, all she could reply was an indeterminate sound of pleasure. She didn't want him to stop and when Ares drew away she let a sound of disappointment. She tried to draw him close again, but he stopped her.  "Don't you think you're overdressed?" With a snap of his fingers her pyjamas disappeared, leaving her body exposed to his sight. "Now, that's a sight for sore eyes," he said huskily, his eyes exploring her body. She felt her body react to his look. Her nipples hardened with anticipation and when he took one in his mouth, sucking it, biting it, she almost let a groan.

"You like that, don't you?" he asked only to get another moan as a reply.

"Ares, please..."

"Please, what?" he asked again, this time his lips tracing her body downwards, teasing her skin with his teeth. "Say it."

"Please, don't stop..."

"Oh, no, I'm not going to stop. In fact, I haven't started yet," he answered slightly amused, his lips leisurely heading downwards, his tongue leaving hot traces on her flesh. She felt his hands holding her steady on the bed, his knee forcing her legs apart. And then his tongue touched the tender skin of her vulva, leisurely stroking her clit until he heard her moan his name again and again.

"Are you ready for desert?" he asked her teasingly, knowing she was ready the moment he first kissed her. Lifting his head he looked into her eyes asking her again the same question.

"Yes, I'm ready," she cried, her whole body aching for satisfaction. "Then you shall have it," he said and in a blink of an eye he stood there, fully naked, his body sending more shivers down her spine, his divine cock promising satisfaction beyond her wildest dreams.

"We don't need these any more," he said and her bonds disappeared.  "Although I have a feeling we may use them sometime soon."

He leaned over her once more, his enormous cock entering her with one single thrust. He heard her moan his name again and again as he was thrusting inside her. She tangled her fingers in his black curls, feeling their silky texture, drawing him closer to a desperate kiss. For a moment he was still, then he began moving inside her, slowly at first then faster and faster... Her legs wrapped tightly around his waist. He felt her hands clutching at his shoulders and he knew she was ready. With one more thrust he let his hot seed fill her, and heard her screaming his name as they came together.

Moments later he rolled on his back, taking her in his arms.  "Feeling better?" he asked huskily, kissing her gently.

"Mmmmm. Much better," she replied purring like a kitten.

He gave her another long, passionate kiss, before covering her with the blanket, still holding her in his arms.  "Get some sleep now. You need it," he said, knowing that she was already half-way to the land of Morpheus.

The sunlight was falling in her eyes. She blinked and stretched her body to fully awakening. "What a dream  she thought.  "I still feel the taste of his kiss on my lips." Then she noticed the black curly hairs on her pillow...