She was found in the old temple. She had hidden behind the old altar in hopes of escaping. They backed her into a corner. She had found an old sword. It was heavy and awkward for her, but she was determined to keep them away or make them kill her. Death by the sword was preferable to being used until she died. She was exhausted, hurt, and weakening.
A huge man appeared behind her attackers. Her heart sank. He stood seven feet tall or more. Long, raven black hair swirled around massive shoulders. His muscles rippled as he moved with cat-like grace. One by one, he killed the men threatening her until he alone faced her. She did not relax, although the old sword was now almost too heavy for her. She looked up into golden topaz eyes that gleamed with amusement. That made her angry. She tightened her grip on the blade, her eyes cold. The huge man before her was impossibly handsome.
“Why did you kill them?” she asked coldly. “Weren’t they your friends?”
The amusement flared brighter. He shook his head slowly. “You came in here for sanctuary,” he said. His deep, rich voice resonated in her. “They profaned by attacking you.” He gestured at the blade she still held. “You did well with my blade. Even though it is not suited to you.”
Her mouth was suddenly dry. She was in an old temple of the War God. He smiled slightly as he saw the knowledge light her eyes. She sighed and lowered the blade. Then she wiped off the blood and offered it back to him, hilt first. As he took it, the blade changed, becoming bright and clean. A mortal man had stolen his blade, diminishing his power. This woman had, unknowing, restored him. The exhaustion and pain finally caught up with her. She collapsed without a sound. He sheathed his sword and gently lifted her in his arms. Mist swirled in the temple. When it cleared, only the bodies remained.
He laid her on soft cushions and removed her tattered clothes. A basin of warm water with healing herbs in it appeared at his elbow. He carefully cleaned the cuts and scrapes. Then, stripping off his clothes, he again lifted her in his arms and carried her to a steaming pool. He entered it, lowering both of them into the soothing warmth. His hands gently caressed her as he cleansed her body. Her breath was warm and soft on his skin as he held her.
He felt desire stirring and was a little surprised. His usual release was in the midst of war and battle when he would ravish as many women as he could find. It was not always satisfactory, but it…eased…his need. He stroked her body, cupping her breasts, feeling her nipples harden under his hand. He rose from the pool, cradling he against his chest. He again laid her among the soft cushions. He lounged beside her, gently caressing and stroking her.
She finally stirred and awakened to his arousing touch. She opened her eyes to look into his topaz gaze. She saw desire and lust. She felt his massive penis stirring against her. She reached up to touch his raven black hair and run her fingers through its silky softness. Her fingertips caressed his lips. He leaned down to kiss her with soft hunger. She yielded to his kiss, feeling his hunger arousing her. His massive penis suddenly surged to full erection. She softly caressed the hot length. He was easily as long as her forearm and as thick. The fist-sized glans burned her fingers as she stroked it.
“God of War,” she murmured, “will you accept an offering given freely?”
