Acheron

Artemis draped herself across his chest, listening to his ragged breathing. He was still hard and stiff.

"Does it hurt you to stay like this?" she asked, brushing her hand over his cock.

He drew a sharp breath as if her caress pained him. "Yes."

"Can you not pleasure yourself?"

"I can." He studied her face. "Would you like to watch?"

Before she could answer, his hand enclosed around hers, holding her palm against him.

Acheron closed his eyes at the heat of her hand against his cock. Sex meant nothing to him. It never had. It was just something that was expected of him.

He'd masturbated before crowds and with lovers more times than he could even recall. For some reason, it seemed to give other people pleasure to see him come. He barely felt the momentary release of hormones anymore. It was a piercing pleasure, quickly gone.

He'd long ago learned to want something more than this.

But it wasn't meant to be and he didn't know what it was he craved anyway. Artemis was here because, like many others before her, she was curious about his body. She might come back to visit him. She might not.

There was a time when he would have been beaten had a lover not returned for him.

Back in Atlantis, everything had hinged on his ability to make people crave him. How much sleep he was allowed. How much food.

How much dignity.

If his lovers didn't feel well sated after leaving him, he was beaten for it.

Now his father would beat him if he ever learned of this. The king demanded celibacy from a man who had never known it. But in truth, he liked being with Artemis. Her touch was gentle. Her skin creamy and soft.

Sucking his breath in, he imagined what it would feel like to slide himself inside her body. No, better yet, he imagined what it would be like to have her hold him cradled against her as if he mattered. The very thought of someone caring about him, really caring about him was almost enough to make him smile. But he knew better.

What he had was a stupid dream that had been fed by Ryssa and Maia at a time when he'd been gullible. Those illusions were long shattered.

Artemis was a goddess. He was lucky she would even deign to be in the same room with him. He would please her because that was what they'd trained him to do.

There could never be any kind of relationship between them. No doubt she'd vanish as soon as this was over. He'd be alone again.

Nothing in his life ever really changed.

Artemis watched Acheron's face while he used her hand to stroke him. It was odd to touch a man like this and she wondered what thoughts were in his head. Normally she could hear mortal thoughts when she wanted to, but for once she couldn't.

How very strange…

He stiffened ever so slightly before his hot seed shot through her fingers. Instead of crying out as she'd done, he merely sighed raggedly, then released her.

She ran her hand through his warm moisture, studying it. "So this is what makes women pregnant."

"In most cases."

"In most?"

He shrugged. "Mine is harmless enough."

"How so?"

"I was sterilized at puberty, Goddess. My kind always are. No one wants to be made pregnant by a whore."

Artemis arched her brows at his disclosure. "Humans can do such a thing?"

"No, but the Atlanteans can. They taught the procedure to the Apollites."

She studied his fluid again. " 'Tis a shame they did that to you," Artemis said quietly. "You are far too beautiful to be made sterile. Shall I fix you?"

"No. There's no reason to. I told you, no one would ever welcome a child conceived from me."

It was the pain in his silvery eyes as he spoke that brought an unfamiliar ache to her chest.

Her poor human.

He looked spectacular lying back against the white linens that only emphasized the wide expanse of tawny masculine skin. Every muscle of his body was a study in perfection. He was so inviting. Warm. And he was completely unabashed about his nude sexuality. About what they'd done. He wasn't cocky or arrogant that he had touched her.

He treated her like she was…

Human.

Most of her family couldn't stand her. Humans feared her. Even her handmaidens laughed among themselves, but kept their guard up whenever she drew near.

But this man…

He was different. He held no fear of anything or anyone. Like a powerful, untamed beast, he was defiant and bold. Unyielding in her presence. He was docile now, but the power of him was undeniable. It was frightening even to her.

"Have you any friends?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"Why not?"

"I suppose I'm not worthy of any."

Artemis frowned at his reasoning. "It can't be that. I haven't any either and I am more than worthy. Perhaps there is a flaw to us." She paused as she thought about that. "No, that can't be right either. I have no flaws and yet I'm as alone as you are."

Never before had Artemis realized just how alone she really was. Her twin brother had friends. He had lovers. Apollo was the closest thing to a friend she'd ever known, but even he was reserved around her. Apollo never invited her to do things with him unless it involved destruction or punishment. He didn't laugh with her or ask her to go out carousing or gaming.

For the first time in her life, she realized just how lonely she was.

"Will you be my friend?"

Acheron was utterly stu

She cocked her head as she watched him with a small puckering of her divine brow. She was shimmery and ethereal-far beyond the reach of something like him. "Well, yes. I mean, we can't let others know it, but I like what you have shown me. I wish to learn more about this world and about you." She smiled warmly at him as if she were truly sincere with her offer. It reminded him how rare such a thing as sincerity was. And friendship…

It was an elusive dream he dare not allow himself. People like him didn't have friendship. Any more than they had love or kindness. Yet he found a foreign part of himself aching for want of it.

Aching for want of her.

"So, are we friends? I promise you, you'll never regret it."

This had to be the strangest moment of his life and given the oddity of his existence, that said a lot. How could a whore be the friend of a goddess?

Acheron pulled the blanket from the bed and wiped himself clean. "I think you would regret being my friend."

She shrugged. "I doubt that. You're human. You'll only be alive… what? Another twenty or so years? That is so little time that it hardly matters and I doubt I shall be your friend once you grow old and unattractive. Besides regret isn't something an Olympian feels."

She smiled as she traced his lips. "Kiss me. Kiss me and let me know that we are friends."

It was a ludicrous thought and yet he found himself doing just as she asked.

Friends.

The two of them. He wanted to laugh at the thought. Instead, he closed his eyes and breathed her in. Her hands were sublime in his hair. And as they kissed, he wanted her friendship with a desperation that made him ache. His only hope was that he'd be worthy of it.