CHAPTER 8: The Butterfly
Lucifer leaned against one of the standing stones, his back to the scene in its center. He could hear her moans, whimpering, sweet gasps of delightful surprise as Pan slowly traced tiny foreign patterns over her flesh with his fingertips, touching her in no other way. Herne was curled about her, cradling her curvy yet petite body to himself.
As Herne and Pan caressed her, Eros rose and came to stand beside him, wing to wing. "She is a remarkable female," Eros said conversationally, watching her being slowly driven mad with want, despite the uncounted number of orgasms she had already had.
"Yes," Lucifer said tersely. "Was this your idea, then?"
Eros looked mildly offended, but his eyes twinkled. "Would I do something so painfully transparent?"
"Yes."
Eros threw his head back and laughed. "It could have been worse. I could have invited Bacchus to the party."
Lucifer failed to repress the shutter. "You do not want him around that one. Someone would end up dead." He glances back at the woman purring contentedly in the arms of the two horned deities, seemingly just as deeply pleased by delicate sensuality as she was by roaring sexuality. "Dionysus, however... he enjoys a show. Surprised you didn't court him."
Eros shrugged. "I didn't want to overwhelm the poor girl. Besides, D has an annoying habit of critiquing mid-orgy. It gets annoying."
"Why did you ask me here, Eros?" His own mind was a wire mesh tangle of thoughts, worries, suspicions and doubts. He couldn't remember ever feeling so driven to distraction by a human before... if human was all she truly was. Hell, giving his old man the finger had been less stressful than trying to maneuver with this woman within the confines of divine law.
"So that you can see she isn't a woman to be kept... or caged. She is a butterfly finally finding her way out of a chrysalis. Let her alight upon you, dust you in her colors, but if you try to capture her for yourself and keep her in a glass jar, you will destroy what you love best about her."
Lucifer turned to him with an almost feral, self-loathing grimace and a snarl but kept his voice low, so as not to disturb the petite priestess in her... meditation. "You think I have not discovered this? Do you think I don't see that she does not *shine* when she just... lets go and abandons herself to any; man, woman, god... it does not matter. She is..." he looked back over his shoulder. "She is... Lilith, less the impulse control issues. She is Delilah less the treacherous intent. Mary Madeline without the shame. Salome..."
"With all nine veils wrapped around your heart and head?" Eros murmured in acknowledgment and appreciation. Lucifer have a tiny nod. "Whomever came up with the line about letting a love be free may own it once it returns never understood love is not about ownership... it's about generosity of spirit. You can't steal love, take it from someone else and claim it for yourself. You can only GIVE of yourself and be willing to accept the gift of love in return. But we choose where we give it. And so does she. You own some piece of her that she has willingly gifted you; I know not when. But I can see the tether on you as clearly as I see your wings and not your horns when she is present."
"I have not loved much in my existence. Save a father who condemned me for questioning his edict. But humans... they are so brief. So fragile and imperfect."
"Does THAT look fragile and imperfect?" Eros asked nodding back to the altar table where the scene had changed to Gwen settling herself on Herne's cock, facing away from him whilst Pan stood before her. She descended on his proud erection like a woman possessed, taking it immediately into her throat without a hint of preparation. The groan that tore from Pan's chest sounded like a living thing as he balled his hands at fists at his side after to keep from grabbing her bobbing head. His eyes rolled back and his jaw drop.