Archive of Our Own

The night they met, he hadn't realized who she was. He had gone to Greece to fight in the Revolution. One night, drinking at a bar with Bryon and Sam Howe and other Phillhellines (and he likes that word, all those "l"s tripping off the tongue), a beautiful woman walked into the bar, and even though they did't know who she was, they were all riveted by her. It was pretty much a given that either Jack or Byron would be the first to approach her. Jack, having two perfectly good feet, beat Byron to the punch.
He got more than he bargained for.

----

"Not yet, Jack." Aphrodite smiles sweetly and makes him stop. If Aphrodite tells you to wait, you wait, regardless of how much or how little self-control you might normally have. Jack groans in frustration. He is rock-hard and balls-deep inside the goddess of desire, and she won't let him finish. She whispers in his ear, "You trust me, don't you, Jack?" He nods. Somewhere deep in the back of his mind he thinks that perhaps he shouldn't trust her, that lust and desire are never things to be trusted- enjoyed, indulged, yes, but never trusted.

He's not tied up, he's not held down, he's under no contract, he's free to leave whenever he wants. But he can't orgasm until she says so, and so he stays. Jack enjoys making the implicit power explicit as much as the next guy, but Aphrodite is a goddess, and she loves power. Jack wants her, wants every inch of her, and she knows it, any one who knew how to look could see it on his face, but she can feel it. The feeling of his desire is as sweet as ambrosia, and she's going to take her fill.

She takes him in her mouth, slowly, sliding lips down to meet the base of his cock, tongue making lazy patterns on the shaft. She swallows around him. She would smile at the way he gasps, desperate, but it's hard to smile with a full mouth. Every time she feels him approach orgasm, she holds him there by changing her technique, or stopping, or simply through sheer force of her divine will. Jack would have thought it was impossible not to orgasm while Aphrodite deepthroated him, but that was before he met her. He's frustrated, but not too frustrated to enjoy a good thing while it lasts.

She straddles his face; Jack has a quick and nimble tongue. He does his level best to bring her off while she strokes him in her hand, stopping each time he gets to the edge. She comes five times before she dismounts and kisses his cheek, then his mouth, tasting her own sweetness on his lips.

"Please" he says. He aches, he wants, he needs. She smiles at him, sweetly. "Please what?" she asks.
"Please let me come" he says, his voice desperate, almost prayerful.

Aphrodite lays back on the bed, spreads her legs in invitation. "Be my guest," she says. Jack positions himself between her legs and slides into her, closing his eyes in bliss as he feels himself slide inside her, feels her warm wetness enfold him. Jack may be desperate, but he still has his pride, so he does his best to take his time, long, slow, full strokes, until Aphrodite is moving her hips underneath him, urging him faster and harder, and he obliges. She orgasms and the contractions bring him over the edge, finally, blissfully. He holds himself still letting the pleasure and relief wash over him for a moment before collapsing back on the bed. "Thank you" he breathes out.
"Oh, believe me, it was my pleasure" Aphrodite tells him before he slips into sleep.

When he wakes up again, he finds his head is in her lap and she is playing casually with his hair. He sits up and looks at her. She smiles. "You know, Jack, I almost want to keep you for my own, but the Fates have other plans for you." She hands him a seashell. "But keep in touch." She kisses him again, and he closes his eyes, enjoying the taste of her, the softness of her mouth. When he feels her pull away and opens his eyes again, he is sitting in a field, fully dressed, seashell still in hand.