What more could she do? ‘
Laying her head on the pillow, she put her mouth to his ear.
‘I love you,’ she whispered. For a moment there was no response, but then he sighed – a soft, almost inaudible escape of breath. Thetis tensed and began to rub her body against him, her fingers stroking the flesh of his inner thighs and loins. ‘I love you,’ she said, louder now. He groaned and she felt his penis swell in her hands.
‘Come to me,’ she called. ‘Come to … Derae.’
His body arched suddenly. ‘Derae?’
‘I am here,’ she told him. He rolled to his side, his arms drawing her to him, and kissed her with a passion Thetis had not experienced in a long time. It almost aroused her. His hands roamed across her body . . . searching . . . touching. She looked into his eyes; they were open, yet unfocused, and tears were streaming from them.
‘I missed you,’ he said. ‘As if they’d torn my heart from me.’
She drew him on to her-,-swinging her legs over his hips and guiding him home. He slid into her and stopped; there was no sudden thrust, no-pounding. Gently he dipped his head and kissed her, his tongue like moist silk upon her lips. Then he began to niove, slowly, rhythmically. Thetis lost all sense of time passing and, despite herself, arousal came to her like a long-lost friend. Sweat bathed them both and she felt him building to a climax, but he slowed once more and slid from her. She felt his lips upon her breasts, then her belly, his hands on her thighs, his tongue sliding into her, soft and warm and probing. Her back arched, her eyes closed; she began to shudder and moan. Her hands reached down, holding his head to her. The climax came in a series of intense, almost painful spasms. She sank back to the bed and felt the heat of his body as he moved upon her -within her – once more. His lips touched hers, their tongues entwining, then he entered her. Unbelievably Thetis felt a second orgasm welling and her hands pulled at his back, feeling the tension in his muscles as he drove into her with increasing passion. The spasms were even more intense than before and she screamed, but did not hear the sound. She felt the warm rush of his climax, then he slumped over her.
For a moment Thetis lay still, his dead weight upon her. Gently she pushed him to his back, seeing that his eyes were now closed. For a moment only she wondered if he had died, but his breathing was regular. She felt the pulse at his neck, which was beating strongly.
Thetis lay quietly beside the sleeping man for some minutes before silently rising from the bed. She dressed and returned to the courtyard where Mothac sat, nursing a goblet of wine.
‘Drink?’ he asked, not looking up.
‘Yes,’ she answered softly. Pouring herself a goblet of wine, she sat opposite the Theban. ‘I think he will live,’ she told him, forcing a smile.
‘I guessed that from the noise,’ he answered.
‘He thought I was Derae,’ she said. ‘I wish I was.’
‘But you are not,’ he said harshly, rising and scattering the ten drachms on the table before her.
She scooped up the money and looked at the Theban. ‘I did what you wanted. Why are you angry with me?’
‘I don’t know,’ lied Mothac, forcing himself to be civil. ‘But, thank you. I think you should go now.’
He opened the gate for her and then returned to his wine, which he downed swiftly, pouring another. Then another. But still Elea’s face floated before him.
The Temple, Asia Minor, 379 BC
The priestess stared at the open gate and the lush green fields beyond, focusing on the roses which grew up and over the lintelled opening – red and white blooms that filled the air with heady scent.
This time I will escape, Derae told herself. This time I will concentrate as never before. Steadying herself she walked slowly forward, her mind holding to a single thought.