The beach sand burns under my feet. Ash clings to my skin from the cave. Furies’ words echo—terrifying beauty, blood dripping, wings spread. Alecto’s drachme heavy in my pocket. I strip bare, dive into the warm sea. Water laps my thighs, 30 degrees, jacuzzi bliss. Heart slows. Body floats. Then, ripple. Current against the tide. Panic spikes. Pulse hammers. Deep water hides rays, fish fleeing. Wall of water rises—solid, unyielding. Pushes me out. Invisible hand grips my waist, forces me seaward. Naked, exposed. Skin prickles. Cold creeps in. Hours pass. Muscles scream. Hallucinate hippocampi, massive char. No—real. Poseidon towers. Barbu, muscled like Zeus, trident gleaming. Eyes devour my wet curves. ‘Little mortal,’ he growls. Pegasus mentioned me. I spill the tale—Furies, Arachne, all. His jaw tightens at Alecto’s name. Dolphins fetch my clothes, drachme. But first, his gaze strips deeper. Heat floods my core. Nipples harden in the spray. He leers, unashamed. ‘Protected by those bitches,’ he mutters. Char surges. I cling naked to leather straps. His back shields me from waves, body heat radiating. Salt stings skin. Desire coils tight. Thighs slick, not just water.
Wind whips. Char skims waves like a beast. His arm brushes my breast—electric. I gasp. He chuckles, deep rumble. ‘Mountains of Olympus pale to your fire, bee.’ Hand grips my hip, pulls me against him. Cock hard through seaweed loincloth. Pulse thunders in my ears. Wall of water encircles us now, private. No escape. His mouth crashes mine—salt, fury. Tongue invades, claiming. Fingers dig into ass, bruising. I claw his chest, nails drawing blood. He roars, flips me face-down over the char’s edge. Waves slap below. Trident plants in sea, holding us steady. Rips my thighs apart. Cock thrusts in—huge, relentless. Stretches me raw. Pain blooms to fire. I scream into the foam. Hips slam, brutal rhythm. Skin slaps wet. Sweat mixes with brine. Heart explodes, each pound visceral. He bites my neck, fangs drawing copper taste. ‘Mine,’ he snarls. Waves crash higher, mirroring frenzy. I buck back, greedy. Clit grinds against leather. Orgasm rips—shuddering, endless. He floods me, hot seed pulsing. Body shakes. Collapse against him, spent.
The Fever
Char slows. Nereides arrive—sirens lithe, eyes hungry. They kiss air into my lungs later, lips soft, tongues lingering. But now, ashes settle. Skin still fever-hot, marked by his grip. Poseidon tosses clothes. ‘Dress, bee. Passe des Inconnues awaits.’ Drachme gleams in his fist. Nereides guide me down—hands tender on curves, massaging temples, easing pressure. Abyss cold, black. Their mouths on mine—sweet oxygen, teasing promise. Torches flicker. Current pulls to the glow. Pollution—bike, cola can—anchors reality. They release. I dive into the vortex. Heart steadies. Body hums with aftershocks. Fury’s gift? Or his? Lived. Burned. Survived unique blaze.