Page 23 of Perfectly Matching Again

As if to push her further, Demeter spoke up again. This time her own voice was clear as crystal and not a note over the necessary level of decibels to be heard by the meddling gods and goddesses.

“You all have interfered enough. And don’t you forget that I still wear this ridiculous bond you’ve thrust on me, big sister.” The mocking tone did decidedly sexual things to Erato’s insides. “Enjoy your evening.”

Demeter turned away, pulling Erato slowly after her. Not that she would have stayed, because no way Erato would’ve allowed Demeter anywhere out of her sight after their dance and their kiss and whatever it was that the Goddess of Harvest just did, that made everyone in the room look at her in awe.

Erato cleared her throat as she walked backwards.

“And with that, I have to leave you, immortals. Thank you for the dinner and the show. Please do not call or write. Grand things await your faithful muse. Oh and Hera, would you take care of this for me? There’s a dear.” Just before the thread snapped at her wrist, she handed Hera—really only because she was the closest—her empty flute and was gone, pulled behind the unstoppable force that was Demeter, determined to exit the ballroom and leave the Olympians far behind.

She was on Demeter the second the door to their hotel suite closed behind them, only to be stopped by a firm hand to her sternum.

“Ah-ah-ah!” The hand might’ve been firm, but the voice was honey itself. Soft, enticing.

“Wha…” Erato’s question was cut off by a bruising kiss. A kiss that ended her train of thought. A kiss that took her breath away and rendered her helpless, hanging on every touch of those lipsthat took and took and took from her, and she was ready to give till she dropped.

Dropping, however, was not an option because a knee insinuated itself between her legs and was more than enough leverage to keep Erato upright. Every time she slid down the mahogany oak of the door, the knee pressed up against her already sensitive flesh, not helped by her very tight leather pants—yes, of course Erato wore leather pants to an official function, why would she not, when her ass looked like that—and she lost another little piece of her already far gone mind.

She had been with goddesses, muses, mortals. She even got seduced by a Fate once. Though Erato preferred not to speak of that incident. But absolutely nobody on Earth, Olympus, or the Underworld had power over her like Demeter did.

One look, one touch, one kiss and Erato melted, lost her mind, forgot her concerns about even attempting to dream about the one Goddess who was so off limits she might as well not exist at all.

But when Demeter’s lips nipped at hers, when Demeter’s teeth none too gently tugged at her lower lip, when Demeter murmured words that Erato was too distracted to pay attention too… When all of that combined Erato forgot why the Goddess of Harvest was off limits for a lowly muse.

Although the words… Maybe she should pay more, because the words…

“I think you have already touched enough, Erato. I think during our first night together you touched and kissed and licked and fucked and while I was left so satisfied, so thoroughly debauched… I was also left bereft of my chance to ravish you.”

Yeah, the words robbed Erato of the last vestiges of intelligence. She nodded, mutely, her mouth hanging open and Demeter’s finger traced the lower lip before her teeth bit it again, sending shock waves down Erato’s body.

“Do you know how difficult it has been for me all these days?” Demeter pulled on the tails of Erato’s shirt and slid her hands under it, as her voice continued to mesmerise, to entice, to bewitch. “Do you know? Seeing all this skin, day after day, and not having any memories of touching it? Or tasting it?”

Erato nodded, then realized she should be shaking her head and then simply lost herself in the intensity in Demeter’s eyes. Eyes that smiled at her gaucheness. Eyes that held her captive and yet, eyes that were filled with nothing but, dare she say, affection? Sure not. This was just sex. Lust. And lust was something safe, something Erato knew, something she had been good at all her life. After all, everyone said so. Everyone used her for it and she found it her safe space. Affection wasn’t something she felt safe in. Affection was not something that was for Erato.

Oblivious of Erato’s dilemma, Demeter kept kissing, kept caressing, and kept speaking.

“What do you say, darling? How about I do the touching tonight?”

Erato blinked, her doubts giving place to curiosity.

“Youaretouching?” She phrased it as a question, because the hands on her abdomen were decidedly there and decidedly touching and so Demeter’s question was strange.

“That isn’t what I envisioned when I said I would like to be the one doing all the touching, darling.”

Okay, the darling together with the wandering fingertip edging closer and closer to her breasts wasn’t helping Erato’s mind grasp the full scope of the question. Until Demeter took a step back, then another, and then reached into her open suitcase and produced a pair of silk scarves.

Yeah, Erato clearly did not grasp the gravity of the situation. She was instantly wet. Instantly on fire and possibly dying. Her heart had surely stopped.

“Yes!”

She was aware she was shouting. She was also aware she was dropping her pants, cursing their tightness and throwing herself on the bed all in the span of the next few seconds.

Demeter watched her with amusement and again, something that Erato did not necessarily recognize since it had never been directed at her, but it looked too painfully close to affection.

Demeter’s hands on her wrist and the feeling of silk securing her to the headboard took care of her thoughts and in no time, all coherent thinking was forgotten.

All she had left was the sensation of Demeter’s skin on hers as the binds were tightened. Of Demeter’s hair trailing down her body, of Demeter’s voice murmuring how beautiful she was, how hot.

“So hot, you have gotten me in a state, Erato. A state of wanting to take all my clothes off. And wanting you to watch. You have such expressive eyes, I can feel you watching me, you know…”

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