Forever Love

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Forbidden love in ancient Greece.
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Alainn
Alainn
61 Followers

She woke with her body humming in sweet reminiscence. Without opening her eyes, she arched her back and stretched her arms with feline grace. As she settled back onto her pallet, she pillowed her covers around her nude form, and luxuriated in the silence that surrounded her; remembering.

The son of slaves, a person hardly considered by society as human, Dion was a creature of utter perfection. He was sleek of body, with golden skin, dark hair, and black eyes that pierced as well as enveloped with their profound depth. Eyes that followed the every movement his mistress made with complete devotion and silent love.

How could she not notice such divine masculine beauty? How could she not respond to his eager faithfulness, his willingness to please? Oh, yes, she was married; married, in fact, to a member of the Senate. And, yes, Athenian law as well as her own, personal religious beliefs strictly forbade laying with a man not her husband. But how could she refuse the love he offered? How could she ignore Dionysus's madness running hot through her veins?

So, she took him into her marriage bed; the fine linens and embroidered draperies a sumptuous backdrop complementing the mating of their bodies. A mating of their hearts.

It was there that she allowed Dion to touch her with more than his watching, worshipful eyes. With a reverent caresses, his work roughened hands made her body tremble. With his hot, moist mouth, he adored every inch of her skin, until she was liquid silk. His breath, warming; his body, igniting. With Dion, she turned into a goddess of unquenchable cravings; ravenous for nothing less than everything.

He taught her the secrets of her femininity, nudging her infant bud into full bloom with patience and skill. When she blushed at his ardent ministrations, he delved deeper; his tongue creating pure ecstasy in the heart of her womanhood with long, loving laps. His fingers worked magic from within, relentlessly caressing until she was begging to be filled completely. Then, with a scrape of teeth and a swirling tongue, she died from the pleasure that burst into iridescent completion.

But he brought her back to life, her Dion, with drugging kisses of languid passion. He clasped each of her hands in his own, so that each tiny fist was completely enfolded within. The long, hard body she had admired from afar was stretched and pressed flush against her soft womanly curves. She could feel the steel of his arousal on her leg; his length from knee to her upper thigh caused a stir of longing as well as a touch of fear. He was so much man. Almost too much.

His dark, musky scent was overpowering and shattered her sanity until she was nothing but a confused mix of sensations. The soft crinkle of hair that swirled into circles along his body warred with the softness of her skin. The hardness of his muscles barely confined within his hot, velvet skin a seductive contradiction. Captured there beneath him, she felt so small and fragile; womanly. Every touch spoke epic poems from the heart, every kiss a dance of love. How she had lived this long without such sensations, without his touch, she could not believe. How she would now live without him, she did not know. She was spiraling into a whirlpool of obsession for this, possession for him.

And then he slid a knee between her legs, and spread them gently open. She opened willingly, embraced Dion's body with open arms and an open heart, and when he slowly pushed himself inside, his thickness stretching and filling, she cried tears of joy. He fit perfectly; their bodies the key and lock to the other's pleasure.

She wrapped her body around his, tightening a passionate noose with her arms and legs, and pulling him deeper within his sheath. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, their hearts beat as one. Her breath would suspend when he pulled away, then she would gasp sharply when he thrust back in. Her world was centered on what fantasies this man wove and fulfilled for her, and she soared in his arms, the colors forming and blinding her.

In the language of the slaves, he murmured a soliloquy to her beauty that she could not understand, but which sent her body into such wondrous convulsions that she cried out with sheer delight. Then, with a guttural moan, Dion's body flexed powerfully within hers, and as he spilled his seed across her womb, he whispered, "σ' αγαπώ." I love you.

The words now echoed in her head. σ' αγαπώ. I love you, I love you, I love you. One single moment of absolute love and joy, and sheer pleasure. σ' αγαπώ.

A sharp clang shot through the tiny room, and Evadne was thrust from her reverie into the harsh reality. The embroidered canopy melted away, leaving a stark ceiling of gray stone. The soft linens became a tattered horse blanket, the worn fabric rough and scratchy against her delicate skin. Pleasure turned to pain; pain of extreme hunger and thirst, pain from the lash and salted wounds.

Brutal hands yanked her from her pallet of molded hay, and she stumbled blindly into the light of day. The heat from a sun Evadne had not felt in weeks was almost unbearable. Sounds of a jeering, screaming crowd assaulted her ears till she thought they'd bleed. Rocks pummeled her already torn skin, and she bit back a gasp when one marked her temple.

"Whore!" Evadne could hear them now, could hear their hateful curses echoing through her head. "Whore!"

Tears streaked through the blood and grime that covered the face that had once captivated. She was stripped of her clothes so that they might parade her through the heart of Athens like the whore they accused her of being.

Finally, up a wooden staircase they went, to a platform constructed just for her. Waiting there was her husband, the Senator Andries, and a burly stranger with a nastily curved sword. Evadne stood proudly before her husband, looking him in the eye, and willing him to forever be haunted by what he condemned her to.

Raising his voice so that the crowd might hear, the Senator spoke: "Evadne, you are charged with adultery; a crime punished by death." The crowd cheered morbidly. "But we will be lenient and allow you to live, if you were to name your lover."

Silently, she turned away from her husband, and faced the blood lusting crowd. Her eyes traveled one last time along the marble columns and carved statues of her beloved home, white stone gleaming beneath the deep blue of the sky. Then, when her gaze searched through the crowd, it settled on a man standing tall and still in the center of the crazed population.

Evadne smiled. Her memory came flooding back to her - each touch, each kiss - and knew that having his love was worth such a death. She knelt without resisting on the hard wood planks, her eyes never leaving her lover's.

σ' αγαπώ. Hands and lips caressing until their bodies sang.

Evadne saw Dion pull a small sickle from his waistband.

σ' αγαπώ. Being filled and connected; the two of them merging into one.

A shadow raised his arms, a shade of a sword in hand.

σ' αγαπώ. His tears falling as he spilled life and love into her willing body.

As the black silhouette descended, Dion, with a loving smile and whispered words, plunged the wickedly sharp knife deep into his heart.

σ' αγαπώ. διά πάντοσ. I love you. Forever.

Alainn
Alainn
61 Followers
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