Work Text:
Perseleia knelt and pulled Troilus to her.
“Little sunshine, go to Cassandra. Your father and I must speak of matters in private.” She said kindly as she shooed him towards his half-sister.
Apollo’s brows furrowed as he wondered what the goddess needed to speak to him about. What could be so important that she be separated from Queen Helen’s side? What was so important that she entrusted Queen Helen’s safety to his twin?
Perseleia’s face betrayed no emotion and she led him into his inner sanctum and ordered the priests and priestesses out.
When the last door shut, Apollo found himself pinned against the smooth stone; the cool temperature of the temple walls were stark as the goddess he yearned for, craved to be his above all else, was a burning sun pinning him to the wall as she devoured his lips like a starving wolf.
It was pure ecstasy.
A single taste of the goddess of loyalty ruined the taste of nectar for the god of the sun.
She left him dizzy.
She left him wanting.
She left him breathless.
Perseleia broke the kiss for air and whispered words that had his heart fluttering.
“I have wanted to do that for so long. I understand if you don’t feel the same, but I have to let you know. I had to tell you how I feel without the eyes of my father or your Grey-Eyed sister.” She spoke with no regrets.
Khaos help him.
Apollo pulled her back into another scorching kiss.
Tongues clashed and entangled.
He was going to kill the one who taught her how to kiss… after she kissed him again, and again, and again.
Teeth nipped and bit at lips.
Soft and desperate moans coaxed their way out of their mouths before breaking once more.
“I love you. I’ve desired you from the first time I laid eyes upon you. I’ve wanted you when you spoke of wanting a friend and was willing to provide one, my desires were set aside for yours. I fell in love when you raised Asclepius selflessly, when you carried him as if he were your own and raised him along the other demigods. I’ve loved you but could never tell you.” Apollo scooped up Perseleia in his arms, moaning as she wrapped her legs around his waist, as he felt her need for him. He moved so her back was against the cool stones and pressed against his warm body. “I love you Perseleia. I love you and I will never stop loving you.”
Her sea eyes darkened with desire.
One hand tangled and pulled on his curls, brown like the people of Ilum, and the other cupped his cheek in a tender embrace.
“I love you too.” The Goddess of Demigods, the Loyal One, Perseleia, spoke and Apollo wanted to weep of joy as he detected no lies.
The kiss that followed was no less scorching, but was softer, tender.
Perseleia rolled her hips into his and smiled as he groaned in her lips. His own hips bucked in response; he left her smile against his lips, rolling her hips more from the encouragement.
“Now fuck me like you mean it.” Perseleia teased him, her hitched breaths puffed against his own gasps.
He wanted their first time to be special, probably after their wedding when everyone would know he was hers and would hear her cries of pleasure as he could love her freely and without potential retribution from Athena or Poseidon. He wanted to lay her gently against his sheets and take his time, wanted to memorize her every twitch, every gasp, every desperate mewl as he traced his tongue over her body.
He didn’t want to fuck her against a temple wall just yet.
“No one can see us here.” Perseleia nibbled his earlobe and pressed kisses to his hot skin as she nuzzled into his neck.
Well, Apollo thought as he bucked against her hips, as Perseleia ground against him desperate for friction, they were gods and had all the time in the world.
He sucked and coaxed his mark into her tender neck.
He bucked and rutted against her center.
His fingers dug into her thighs with the intent to leave his claim.
Her desperate howls as she released were the greatest hymn that had ever been sung in his temple. And it was all for him.
He let her grind against him as she rode out her orgasm; her arms wrapped around his shoulders, a hand desperately tugging his curls as she sang for him. In her shudders, her head fell back in bliss, allowing him to kiss her throat and trace each change in her skin with his tongue.
“Need- need you now!” She gasped when she could speak once more.
“I know.” He kissed the curve of her jaw.
When she was ready, he carried her in his arms and placed her upon the golden altar. Apollo stepped back to unpin his cloak and chiton while admiring the now no longer untouchable goddess before him, breasts heaving as she gazed upon him with a hunger that matched his own.
Her beautiful sea eyes did not leave his own as she intentionally, slowly, teasingly, removed the golden pins of her peplos. Her eyes gleamed with delight as his breath hitched when Perseleia let the fabric drop and reveal her breasts.
He had seen breasts, many in fact, but they all paled in comparison to the beauty before him. Apollo had seen part of her breasts as she nursed Asclepius decades ago but that was different. She was feeding his infant son, they were only friends at the time so Apollo put the image of Perseleia’s breath out of his thoughts; he would not dishonor her with his thoughts then.
Her lips curled in amusement as she watched him watch her undress upon his altar. She raised her hips and shuffled the dress further down her body, eventually kicking the garments Athena had made specially for her, away.
She was gorgeous.
She was perfection.
And she was his!
Her breasts were plump after carrying and nursing Asclepius; unlike other goddesses, she didn’t care to change her appearance after birth, embracing the change as she started to be known as the Mother of Demigods. Choosing to nurse the infants left in her temples by desperate and destitute mothers. Claiming that she could not perform her godly duties in good consciousness if she disgraced mothers and all they sacrificed to bring a child into the world.
Her hips were wider after birth; hips not seen without a child perched on as she cared for the demigods in her care. Hips that humped against him desperately for release. Hips that Apollo intended to bury himself in and fulfill his desire for the past centuries.
Perseleia spread her legs, reclining back against the altar; the implication that she was offering herself as an offering to him was not lost on him.
If he were mortal, if he were just a man, his heart would explode at the sight of something so heavenly before him.
She curled a finger and beckoned him forth.
Apollo could only heed her command.
He knelt before his altar.
The scent of her was dizzying.
He licked his lips in hunger as he caressed one of her legs and kissed the crook of her knee. Her whimpered hums set fires throughout his body. He pawed and massaged his way up to her thighs, stopping just before her leaking cunt.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his breath causing her to twitch in desperation, pushing her hips towards his mouth in hope of his tongue.
His hands grasped her hips, traced the silvery marks she gained from carrying his son, and pulled her towards him. Her legs resting on his shoulders and her ankles locked.
Apollo grinned as she let out a delighted squeal and unable to contain himself, flicked his tongue to languidly lick at her clit, pleased as she bucked her hips in response.
Perseleia bit her lip to conceal her moans as his tongue traced his name against her cunt.
“Don’t. Sing for me.” He demanded before blowing against her sensitive nerves and drinking up her arousal.
Oh fuck!
It was all he could do not to come as she sang for him.
He was a god and he could easily recover instantly but he was determined to come in her first.
“Fuck! Fuck!” she gasped as she writhed against him, under his ministrations, against his bruising grasp.
He ate her like he was a dying mortal and she was his salvation.
He ate her and all he could sense was her.
Her thighs squeezing his neck and head as he dove his tongue deeper inside her.
Her gasps and squeaks and squeals and sighs as he circled her clit and nipped at it with his teeth.
The pain of her nails in his scalp and pulling on his curls.
He could feel sweat and ichor both upon his brow but all he could smell was the divine ambrosia of Perseleia.
Anything flammable in the inner sanctum caught fire.
He could hear cracks in the foundations and the stones and knew she was close.
Just a little more, a few more touches, a few more pets, and she was singing an aria only for his ears as the jars of wine and water for offerings and ceremonies exploded as the goddess lost control in her high; riding his face as she did.
Were he mortal, he’d have gladly given his life if only for this moment, if only for her to have her legs around his neck and coming into his mouth.
Apollo gently uncurled her legs from his shoulders and kissed his way up her body.
He was determined to take his time, to make this dream last.
“You have a lovely singing voice, my spring.” Apollo panted reverently against her ear.
“Just,” Perseleia croaked, “just for you, sunshine.”
Apollo preened at the nickname, her nickname, in this situation.
“I want you to sing again, can you do that for me?” Apollo teased.
Perseleia got that competitive look in her eyes and before he knew it, Apollo was thrown off and pinned on the altar with Perseleia looking triumphant atop him. His hands pinned above his head with her hands upon his wrists. Her hair, once neat and pinned in a braid, was loose and falling over her shoulders, tickling his skin where the dark tresses touched him. His mouth watered at the sight of Perseleia above him, hungry, needy for him.
“I don’t know, can I?” She teased back before shifting so she was straddling him.
The sound that escaped his lips was very undignified but only Perseleia was his witness and only she could coax such sounds from his mouth.
Her hand, no longer holding his wrist now that she was sitting up straight, kneaded her breast before traveling lower, down her stomach, between her folds for a few brief seconds before taking his cock into her hand.
I will not come, I will not come! He repeated the mantra in his head.
“Perhaps it’s time for you to sing, my dear Phoebus Apollon.” She stroked his cock with feather light touches that had him writhing in her grasp.
He thrusted into her hand once but Perseleia tutted as she lifted her hips and guided him inside her.
Oh…
Fuck!
Fuck yes!
Fuck him, he nearly came once she took him inside her.
Apollo let out a guttural groan as Perseleia began to rock her hips.
Back and forth.
So very slowly.
It was bliss.
It was torture.
It was divine.
It wasn’t anything like he dreamed it would be yet it was.
The sounds of flesh against flesh, of whimpering moans and prayers, no one could see in the temple, no one could listen in.
Gradually, Perseleia’s riding became erratic and Apollo’s hips thrusted up to meet her.
Apollo’s grasp on her thighs burned and where her hands were braced against his chest grounded him as she took him higher and higher.
“Ah-ah-” she whimpered.
Apollo sat up, embracing her as he did so, and cradled her cheek.
He kissed her tear stained cheek.
He nipped at her lip.
He held her tight as she shuddered once more in release.
“Oh gods, oh Phoebus!” She cried as she clung to him.
“I know. I’m here.” He promised. “I’m here.”
Apollo flipped them over so now Perseleia was laying upon his altar with Apollo on top.
“I’ll take care of you. I got you.” Apollo kissed her gently before thrusting deep inside her.
She hooked one of her legs around his hips and gasped as he thrusted into her without abandon. Her nails clawing scratches in his shoulders brought a smile to his face. Her moans were music to his ears as he pounded her sensitive cunt.
He knew he couldn’t last much longer (he could, he just didn’t want to), not when Perseleia was shuddering under him once more and her cries of pleasure were starting to turn to pain.
“Shit!” She whimpered.
Apollo knew she couldn’t handle much more so he came and did his final thrusts into her cunt.
As Perseleia wept from the pleasure, Apollo cradled her face and kissed her cheeks.
“Breathe, breathe.” Apollo said, stilling his hips but not leaving her warmth.
“I-I-”
“I know. I know. You did so great.” Apollo said in her ear as he kissed her. “Good girl. You’re my good girl.”
“I love you!” Perseleia whimpered. “My destroyer, my sunshine.”
“Yours.” Apollo promised, holding her in his arms.
While the goddess beneath him gasped for breath, Apollo took a look around his inner sanctum; it was scorched, stone columns were cracked, the only thing that was untouched was the statue of the god himself. Even the altar they laid on was crumbling beneath their burning bodies.
“Mine.” Perseleia held him.
“Forever, I’m yours.” Apollo vowed as he rested his head against her breast.
“Mine.” She said exhausted, closing her eyes.
“Yours.” He exhaled as he followed her into sleep.