I erupted with force, my cum spurting into her open mouth. Her tongue darted out to catch every drop, her eyes lighting up as she swallowed, but I couldn’t control the sheer volume. White ropes splashed across her face, painting her cheeks and tangling in her pink locks. She didn’t flinch. Instead, she moaned softly, her lips curling into a satisfied smile as her fingers continued to milk me dry.
Aphrodite tilted her head, licking the last stray drop from her lips as she gazed up at me, her face a perfect blend of divinity and depravity.
“You did good but you should finish like a good girl,” I said pointing at my dick still with filled with cum
Aphrodite smiled, her pink eyes glinting mischievously as she cradled my softening cock in her hands. Without hesitation, she took me back into her warm mouth, her tongue swirling lazily as she cleaned every last trace of our encounter.
“Sluuuurp~~~”
The sound was as decadent as the sensation, her slow, deliberate licks sending aftershocks of pleasure coursing through me. My groan was soft, almost involuntary. The sight of her, contentedly tending to me with her lips and tongue, made me want to stay lost in her touch forever.
But then, a knock shattered the quiet intimacy.
Frowning, I turned my head toward the door. It couldn’t have been Charybdis—she avoided the castle unless summoned, preferring the wild embrace of the sea. And besides, she’d join me later, slipping into my bed like a shadow.
A familiar voice broke through my thoughts. “Heiron. It’s me.”
At that, my surprise turned to a grin. “I’m sorry, Aphrodite; our time will have to wait,” I said, stroking her cheek. Her skin was impossibly soft under my fingers, flushed with the afterglow of her efforts.
She licked me one last time, her tongue dragging along my length with a final, languid stroke, before pulling back. Her lips curled into a sly smile, and she licked them clean with an air of satisfaction. “I’ve had enough for today,” she murmured. With a flicker of divine energy, she vanished, leaving only the faintest trace of her scent lingering in the air.
I dressed quickly, fastening my tunic with practiced hands before striding to the door. When I opened it, I was greeted by Atalanta’s familiar face. Her golden hair was slightly disheveled from the revelry, her sharp green eyes locking onto mine.
“It’s a surprise to see you here,” I said, leaning against the doorframe.
“The feast for your victory just ended,” she explained, her voice measured but tinged with concern. “I just wanted to see if you were all right.”
Her words stirred something within me. The battle against Heracles had left me drained, both body and soul, and though I had skipped the celebration, the bath—and Aphrodite’s ministrations—had restored a semblance of my strength. Atalanta’s concern wasn’t unwarranted, but I could tell it came from a place of deep care.
Her gaze flicked over me, taking in the signs of weariness I hadn’t fully managed to hide. Atalanta was perceptive, much like Hector. She could see the cracks I tried to keep hidden. Still, I straightened, letting my confidence bolster my tone.
“You’re worried about me, I see. But don’t fret; I’m fine,” I said softly, reaching out to cup her cheek.
Atalanta flinched slightly at the touch, her body stiffening, but she didn’t pull away. Her green eyes darted away from mine, betraying a flicker of uncertainty—or was it something deeper?
“I… I should go,” she stammered, turning to leave, her movements hurried. But before she could slip away, I grasped her wrist, firm but gentle, and pulled her into the room. The door shut with a resolute thud behind her.
“Stay,” I said, my voice low but commanding.
Atalanta froze for a moment, her breath catching as she looked up at me. The space between us was charged, the air thick with tension. I let my hand linger on hers, my thumb brushing the pulse at her wrist. It beat rapidly, betraying the turmoil beneath her calm exterior.
“You’ve already come this far,” I murmured, leaning in slightly. “So why run now?”
Atalanta’s words trembled, her voice barely above a whisper as she tried to push me away, her hands pressing weakly against my chest. “I… I can’t… Samael…”
Her attempt at resistance was feeble, more symbolic than genuine, and I stepped closer, erasing the distance between us. My lips found the curve of her neck, trailing kisses along her warm, smooth skin. My tongue followed, tracing the elegant line of her throat as I breathed her in.
“Haaan~~~” A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching the door behind her for support. The sound spurred me on, a sweet admission of the conflict raging within her. She wanted me as much as I wanted her.
“You and I both know what we want from each other,” I murmured against her skin, my lips brushing her chin before capturing her mouth in a deep, hungry kiss. Her lips were soft, plump, and faintly sweet, the taste of something sugary lingering on her tongue—cake, perhaps. It only made me crave her more.
“Hammnn~~nooo~~~I… I have sworn… Samael…” she protested weakly, her soft hands pressing against my shoulders even as her body leaned into mine. She was losing her battle, her resolve faltering under the weight of her own desire. I kissed her deeply, letting my lips roam across her face, her cheeks, her jawline, savoring every inch of her.
“What did you swear, Atalanta?” I asked, my voice a low growl as my hands slipped beneath her dress. Her thighs were toned, sculpted from a life of running and hunting, but soft to the touch. My fingers traced slow, teasing patterns along her skin, feeling her legs instinctively press together in a futile attempt to resist.
“V… Vir… Virginity… haaan~~~ purity~~~ that’s why~~ hgnnn! I can’t…” Atalanta’s voice cracked as I continued to tease her thighs, kissing her lips in a relentless, consuming rhythm. Her words were halting, scattered, each syllable dripping with the conflict she felt.
“To whom?” I asked, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it, to make her admit it aloud as her resistance crumbled. My fingers brushed higher, sliding over the smooth, trembling skin of her inner thigh.
Her cheeks flushed, her green eyes squeezed shut, and her lips trembled as she whispered, “Aaah… Artemis…”
Before she could finish, I silenced her with my mouth, plunging my tongue between her lips. The taste of her, sweet and intoxicating, filled me as I explored her mouth with fervor. She gasped, her green eyes flying open in shock, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she melted into the kiss, her knees trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed her.
“Hmmff~~~” Her muffled whimper vibrated against my tongue as I devoured her, my hand slipping further under her dress. When my fingers brushed against her bare, slick folds, I smirked against her lips. She wasn’t wearing anything beneath her dress, and the wetness coating her told me everything.
“Your pussy is telling me you’re thirsty, Atalanta,” I murmured, trailing a finger along her slit, teasing her entrance without yet giving her what she craved.
“H… Haaamnnn!” Her loud moan was swallowed by my mouth, her hands clutching at me desperately as her body betrayed her protests. Her legs trembled, her thighs parting slightly despite herself, inviting me deeper into her forbidden warmth.
Scooping her slick essence onto my finger, I raised it between us, holding it as a tangible testament to her arousal. My other hand cradled her flushed face as I pressed my lips to hers, my tongue sliding over her trembling mouth. “Look,” I murmured against her lips, my voice low and teasing. “It’s proof that your pussy is horny, Atalanta.”
Her face burned crimson, her green eyes widening in mortification as her gaze darted to my glistening finger. “Hmpmpff!” she tried to protest, but her words were muffled as I kissed her again, deep and slow, leaving her with no room for denial. The proof was undeniable, slick and shining on my fingertip.
Finally, I parted from her lips, watching as she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling in ragged breaths.
“Haaaa❤️…haaaa❤️…haan❤️…” she whimpered, her voice quivering, her resolve crumbling before me.
Smirking, I licked my finger clean, savoring her taste, rich and intoxicating. Her eyes darted away, a futile attempt to escape the intensity of the moment. I wouldn’t let her hide. I caught her chin, guiding her face back to me, and pressed the same finger against her lips.
“Suck it,” I commanded, my voice dripping with authority as I trailed my finger across her trembling lips before slipping it past them. Her mouth parted reluctantly, and I pushed my finger in deeper, pressing her tongue down. “Good girl,” I whispered, the praise meant to tease as much as to coax.
Her soft lips closed around my finger, her tongue timidly working against it. Meanwhile, I crouched down, lifting her dress slowly, reverently, until her untouched pussy came into view.
What a sight. Her folds were glistening, untouched, yet betraying her arousal with every drop that trailed down her thighs. Artemis’s oath had kept her pure, but here she was, dripping with need, her body betraying the divine vow.
Unable to resist, I leaned in, my tongue darting out to catch the trail of her essence running down her thigh. The softness of her skin and the taste of her arousal sent a shiver through me.
“Hmfghhh!” Atalanta bucked against me, her muffled protests swallowed by the fingers still playing with her tongue. Her knees wobbled, her strength faltering under the onslaught of sensations.
I licked a slow path up her thigh, savoring every inch of her skin until I reached her soaked pussy. Pausing, I admired the beauty of it—pristine, untouched, yet glistening and inviting. Then, without hesitation, I flattened my tongue and gave her a long, deliberate stroke, drinking in her wetness.
“HMNFff❤️❤️~~~!” Her moan was loud, broken, spilling from her throat as her body shuddered, releasing even more of her sweet nectar onto my tongue.
“You’re so wet,” I chuckled darkly, my breath warm against her trembling core. My lips and tongue returned to their task, lapping and savoring her virgin pussy, my hands gripping her thighs to hold her steady as I worked her into a frenzy.
The room filled with the obscene sounds of slurping and Atalanta’s helpless moans. My tongue delved deeper, exploring her, teasing her, claiming her in ways no one else ever had. Her body writhed against me, her thighs pressing into my face, her attempts to resist fading with every passing second.
When she came, it was sudden and intense, her juices flooding against my tongue as her body convulsed. I drank her in greedily, licking every last drop as her cries echoed in the room.
Finally, I stood, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. Atalanta slumped against the door, her body trembling, her breaths shallow and uneven. Her green eyes were glazed, her lips parted as she barely managed to suck on my fingers, her energy spent.
Withdrawing my fingers from her mouth, I licked them clean of her saliva, savoring the lingering taste of her. “It’s time to wake you up,” I said with a wicked smirk, leaning in close, my eyes locking onto hers as I prepared to take her further down the path of no return.