Hypnos, Ancient Greek god of sleep and trance, sat on a barstool at the kitchen island and drummed his fingers on the marble countertop.
What
is
this?
He wondered, focusing on the unsettling sensation that bubbled in his stomach beneath his rock-hard abs. He ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair and sighed.
Is this what the mortals call anxiety? Or is it nervousness, perhaps?
With a soft growl, he stood up and brought a fist down on the stone. "No more!" he declared to the empty space. "It's time to take your mind off this blasted date." Because, deep down, Hypnos knew that he was worrying about his date with Mariah. It was that night, and somehow even the prospect was giving him these strange flutterings.
The god paused for a moment and focused. In mortal terminology, it was as if he was composing a text message, something like:
Hey, babe. Wanna come over? Netflix and chill?
But, as a god, he didn't need to bother with that pesky technology. Instead, he sent out just a sliver of his power, the message conveyed on a strand of thought that reached across space and time to the intended receiver.
For several moments, there was no answer. Then, the equivalent of the
ding
of a text tone and the response flew back to him in an instant.
On my way.
Thank god most of these immortals never have anything to do,
Hypnos thought to himself as he composed his features into a casual, relaxed expression.
Most of them have never earned a night's sleep in their lives.
The god was on the verge of summoning a glass of water, just to keep him occupied, when there was a shimmer in the air before him and Antheia stepped through the ripple and into his kitchen.
The golden blonde looked ravishing, as always, her hair tumbling down her back and over her shoulders, her body wrapped in a white and gold sari that shimmered in the bright morning sunlight. She cast him a glance and her bright blue eyes glinted with a suppressed gleam of interest as she furtively eyed him up and down.
Hypnos didn't need to dress to impress. His chiseled figure was on full display as he leaned bare chested against the counter, a clingy pair of joggers scarcely doing more than emphasizing his sleek legs and the bulge of his package.
Antheias' pink lips formed into a scowl. "Hmmph," she snorted, practically turning up her nose at him. "So, this is what I am to you, huh? Just a booty call? Some silly bimbo you think you can summon with a snap of your fingers anytime you want some tail?"
Hypnos just gave her a cheeky grin, his own dark eyes seeking hers. He saw through her facade, just like always.
Always the same,
he thought.
Putting on a show of resistance but secretly desperate to submit.
He saw Antheia's eyes flicker furtively to his crotch but didn't let his smirk of victory show through.
It's like a drug. Their only chance to utterly give up control.
The handmaiden of Aphrodite avoided his gaze, knowing that if she met his deep eyes she would be unable to resist.
Hypnos stood slowly, like a jungle cat stretching out its spine on a tree branch and then unfolding itself to its full, powerful size. "Would you like to go?" His voice was slow and soothing as he stepped toward the goddess, his bare feet soft on the cool tile.
Antheia didn't move, her eyes downcast.
The god of sleep could sense her inner, trembling desire, and knew what he needed to do to unleash it. "Because if you wish, now is your chance to leave." He stopped before her, mere inches from her luscious body, and didn't speak.
"No..." Her voice was a soft murmur of longing, and Hypnos felt a surge of triumph.
With the tip of one finger, he reached out and tilted back her head. As her eyes met his and he unleashed his power through the connection, her lips parted into a soft gasp of pleasure.
"Yes..."
The blonde's eyes glazed over as her will disappeared and was supplanted with only a burning desire to obey. Her eyelids fluttered and when they opened again they met the god's with a look of utter submission.
Her voice was now low, throaty and completely erotic. "How can I please you, Master...?"
Hypnos felt the resonance of her voice strike straight through the worry that had been consuming him and touch a deep, primal part of his being. It sent a jolt of arousal straight into his cock, stiffening his length until it was pressing insistently against the material of his pants.
He stepped in closer, his hands rising to explore Antheia's sari-clad body. The god's fingertips roamed over her, the cloth delightfully light and airy to the touch.
Hypnos heard Antheia's breath catch as he traced a fingertip across one full breast and around her nipple, before he bent his head to gently kiss the side of her neck. Then, his lips brushing against her hair, he murmured, "On your knees."
The goddess slid gracefully to the floor, reaching up without being told to stroke and fondle the outline of his throbbing cock. Her skilled fingers coaxed and massaged, begging him to begin in earnest.
Feeling his own desire rising, Hypnos took a slow, calming breath, and then gently released his need for control. As the air escaped his lips, he opened up his power and it surged between them.
At his feet, Antheia shivered, trembled and then, with a gasp, came.
* * *
Cock still slick from its time between the goddess's lush pink lips, Hypnos slid inside of Antheia with ease.