He gave one last, long lick before he pulled away. "Are you sure?"
She nodded.
Reluctantly, he did as she asked and moved to stretch out beside her even though his own body was far from sated.
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."