Page 14 of A Contemporary Mythos Thanksgiving
“Brothers, until we meet again.” After Hades bowed, he ported both himself and his Queen back underground.
Poseidon raked a hand through his beard, nodding to Cordelia as she whispered. “Zeus,” he beckoned once she looked at us with anguish creased in her brow.
Zeus patted my shoulder—a signal for us to stand up and greet the day finally. “Yes?”
We met them halfway, standing toe-to-toe.
“We’ve waited long enough. You gave us your blessing, and Hephaistos said he’d port us any time we were ready.” Poseidon snapped a sidelong glance to Cordelia as if he were getting last-minute confirmation, and she nodded. “That time is now.”
“Triton insisted on going, and he’s been on a work trip at sea, but he returned this morning. It’s perfect timing,” Cordelia added, looping her arm with Poseidon’s.
Zeus nodded, his brow creased with thought. “Then go. But I expect regular updates whether via message in a bottle or a carrier parrot, or whatever you need to do to get them to me.”
Poseidon chuckled and extended his arm to the King of the Gods. “You have my word, ‘lil bro.”
The two god-kings locked arms, and I lurched forward to hug Cordelia. “Please be careful. The Age of Piracy can’t be like what Disney cracked it up to be. It seems so incredibly dangerous. But then again—” I leaned back, still gripping her shoulders. “You are Queen of the Seas. Those pirates won’t know what hit ‘em.”
We exchanged warm smiles, and she gripped my shoulders right back. “I’ll let you know first thing if I happen to run into Johnny Depp. Promise.”
We both laughed and re-joined our kings. Poseidon gave a final wave before they disappeared in shimmers of mist and sea spray.
Sighing, I scanned the table littered with leftover food—tons of it. “What on Olympus are we going to do with all this food? I could make it disappear, but it seems like such a waste.”
Zeus’s arm snaked around my waist, the hard impression of his cock straining against his tunic pressing to my lower back from behind. “I have always enjoyed—food play.”
“Why, my King—” I reached a hand to scrape my nails against the back of his head, a moan escaping my throat. “Are you suggesting we fuck on the table with the remnants of our first Thanksgiving meal together?”
He snarled against my nape, licking and nipping at my skin. “That’s precisely what I’m suggesting. I want to lather mashed potatoes over every square inch of you and take an eternity to lick it all away.”
The thought alone had me sopping wet, and I pinched my thighs together. “What else do you want to use? Tell me.”
“Make you sticky with mango only to kiss it away. Hand-feed you pieces of meat like a godsdamned caveman. And we won’t be finished until this table looks like an absolute fucking massacre.” His hands found my hips, grabbing them and using them to turn me around to face him.
“What are we waiting for?” I raised a single brow.
Within seconds Zeus had my back to the table, both of us naked, our clothes disappearing into the Olympus wind in swirls of sparks and smoke. He grabbed a slice of mango from the tray, a devilish grin curving his lips as he dragged it over each of my collarbones before trailing it between my breasts and finishing with a circle around my navel. Keeping the slice in hand, he lowered his mouth to my stomach, his tongue swirling, licking, and nibbling, following the juicy, sticky trail upward.
When he reached my neck, he slid the slice over my lips and I opened my mouth, letting some of the sweet nectar collect on my tongue before taking a bite—citrusy and sweet. He tossed the half-eaten fruit aside, pushing his lips to mine, tangling our tongues so he, too, could taste the sugary bliss erupting in my mouth.
I reached behind me, scooping a dollop of mashed potatoes onto my fingers before unabashedly wiping it over Zeus’s mouth once he peeled back. He narrowed his eyes, but with a wide grin, I lurched forward and kissed the potatoes away, not caring our faces were smeared with it. As our lips slid over the other, the starchy notes from the potatoes mixing with the tart mango, Zeus leaned over me, ladling more of the potatoes into his palm. He covered my breasts with them and just above my clit as if it were whipped cream instead.
“That big a fan of potatoes, babe?” I hitched a knee at his side, urging him closer.
A deep chuckle floated from his belly, and with slow, calculated strokes, he swirled his tongue around one breast, ridding it of potatoes before flicking the nipple with the tip. “Who doesn’t? It’s all about what you feel is the most superior form. And, my dear queen this—” He took as much of the other breast as he could into his mouth, sucking and nibbling the potatoes away. “—ismine.”
The words held multiple meanings. Were the potatoes his superior? Were my breasts his? WasIhis? All were true.
When he reached the potatoes strategically above my sex, I arched my back from the table, relishing in the tease as he licked it away, skirting his tongue over my pubic bone, but never diving further. I’d have whimpered in protest before he loomed over me and pushed himself in, making me gasp.
He thrust in and out of me, the motions making the wooden table beneath us creak with every other stroke. I wrapped my legs around his waist, smiling up at him, biting my lip at seeing dried mashed potatoes laced in his beard.
He grinned back and took my wrists in one hand, slamming them to the table above my head, pinning them there. While he kept rolling his hips, he plucked a sprig of fresh basil leaves from the center-piece décor, twisting the stem between two fingers.
“Do you know about the effects basil can have?” His voice was husky, dominant, and at the same time, soft.
“Aside from it making things taste—” I moaned as he shifted to rub at that sweet spot within me. “—aromatic?”
“That’s precisely where the effect comes from—the scent it gives off.” He traced the leaves between my breasts, letting them delicately pass over my nipples.
