Spoils 03

Kissing Lenneth had been a mistake. In more ways than one. And yet Lezard didn’t entirely regret it, the man remembering the way Lenneth’s soft lips had felt against his own. They had trembled with uncertainty at that first touch, Lenneth hesitating in response to his own mouth’s movement upon hers. She hadn’t known what to do, as though the Goddess had had little experience when it came to kissing of any kind. She hadn’t gasped at that first touch, but her eyes had widened at his approach, Lenneth unable to remain completely unaffected by what he had attempted to do.

She had tried at first to remain unmoving, frozen in place so that even her hand had stopped it’s squeezing of his groin. How long had he endured such an unfeeling reaction, neither warmth nor revulsion flavoring her response? Seconds surely, though it had felt like a small eternity, Lezard’s own lips demanding one moment, and gently coaxing the next. Slowly, she would respond, Lenneth’s lips doing more than just tremble.

It had been sheer heaven when Lenneth had begun to kiss him back, her clumsy attempts made all the more charming by the way the Goddess had tried to mimic
Lezard’s own movements. His own grip on her had loosened, Lezard trusting the instincts that had told him there would be no attempt to bolt from Lenneth then. Lezard had never imagined such an easy surrender from her, but he hadn’t been about to complain!

He had been happy, and growing more so the more ardent the kiss became. What Lenneth didn’t know about kissing, had quickly been forgotten by the sweet pressure of their lips, and the firm, unrelenting squeezes she performed over his groin. He might have been embarrassed by how quickly he responded to her, but Lezard dared a lesser man not to react to the feel of a Goddess’ hand on his dick!

The details became a little hazy then. Lezard could remember making a sound, a guttural growl from deep inside him. He had actually pressed them together as close as possible while still clothed, and still that hadn’t been enough, Lezard trying to eat Lenneth down by kiss alone. How had he found the strength to pull back long enough for them to both breathe something other than each other? He simply didn’t know, Lezard recalling how he had touched their foreheads together, so that he could gaze soulfully into Lenneth’s eyes.

What could have been the start of a profound moment, had been ruined by Lenneth. By the words she had spoken. She had been breathless from the kiss, but her words had held a cold, unfeeling air to them. As though she was asking out of a mere professional curiosity, Lenneth otherwise unaffected by the kiss they had shared. What should have been provocative, had instead quickened to cool off his ardor. The sheer bliss that had coursed through him? Gone within a second, Lezard losing that insane high he had been riding.

His sense of elation gone, Lezard had realized he hadn’t made Lenneth swoon with his kisses. She wasn’t accepting him out of any sort of sudden affection, nor had she been caught up in the moment. He hadn’t been able to affect her that way, hadn’t been able to move a heart that was hidden with his words or his actions. For all his passion, his love for her, Lenneth remained at a distance from him. Transformed into someone he could not reach, not yet at any rate. Maybe not ever, though Lezard refused to consider that as a possibility.

It was ironic. He had strove so hard to become a being worthy of her. To become a being that was her equal and more. All in order to gain Lenneth’s interest, to gain her notice. He wanted to love her, to be loved by her in return. He had foolishly staked not only his existence, but the existence of all of Creation towards that attempt. Towards the hope of love returned. He had chased after his dream, of bringing his fantasy into reality. Only to be hit with the unexpected.

Lenneth as she was now, bore very resemblance to the woman he had fallen for. Her eyes were dulled from their normal brilliance, though it wasn’t true despair that showed in them. There wasn’t much of any emotion in them, Lenneth seeming to have locked away all feeling. Not even hate was maintained, Lenneth practical as she looked at him. She had resigned herself to her fate, to the fate Lenneth imagined Lezard had picked out for her. Not even his claims for otherwise moved her, Lenneth neither happy, nor angry that Lezard had gone to such lengths for her.

Those moments, those unfeeling responses, they unsettled him. They turned everything he had believed would happen upside down, leaving Lezard with little idea of how to right them. Of how to fix this situation, fix her. He wanted to heal her, to help Lenneth get over the hurt of the mistreatments she had alluded to. Those mistreatments he had been unaware of, Lezard knowing far too little of the actual woman he had pursued over time and creation. He STILL didn’t know much about her, about the real Lenneth, the woman behind the actions of a kind and giving Goddess. He wanted to learn, wanted the chance to get to know her. Even with her past proving far uglier than he had dared dream.

But then Lezard hadn’t given much thought to imagining Lenneth’s life before his intrusion into it. Into the things she had endured, the hardships she had suffered. The people she had known, the men who might have come before him. His jaw actually clenched at that, Lezard remembering how Lenneth had alluded to a history rife with exploits of the sexual kind. Such was his nature, that Lezard felt insanely jealous of any and all who might have so much as looked at Lenneth. It was almost more than he could bear, to think she had been intimate with another, with several others.

He didn’t let the jealousy blind him to the sad reality of those associations. To the fact such trysts had done something to Lenneth, twisted her inside, to the point she had gladly deadened her emotions. The image of the unfeeling Goddess, the cold, practical woman who was ready to do whatever it took to please him, was burned into his mind. That was not the Lenneth he had come for, not the Lenneth who had moved his heart to actually feel. That Lenneth was something else, someone who was damaged. A woman who presented a challenge of a different kind.

It was a challenge he had not anticipated. That encounter with Lenneth had proven just how woefully unprepared he truly was, Lezard unnerved by her behavior, by the cold practical way she had approached him. In that moment, for all the illusions that spoke of his power over her, it had been Lenneth who had taken control of their dealings. She had set him off balance, with her words, her looks, even the delicate placement of her hand over his groin. All three combined, made it difficult to think, and Lezard realized Lenneth could have easily led him into bedding her before either one of them was ready.

That would have been the true disaster then. For all his love, all his obsession, and the desires that heated his blood, Lezard knew enough to realize that taking Lenneth now, would have accomplished nothing. Nothing save to prove to her that Lezard was the same as all the men and women that had come before him. And that was the last thing he wanted!

And so he had walked away. The cost of leaving Lenneth’s side was minimal in comparison to the price he would have paid to have bed her then and there. To have her body was meaningless if he could not have her heart as well, her heart, and that fiery spirit he had born witness to in the recent past. He needed, wanted THAT Lenneth. Not the cold, unfeeling doll she played at being now.

He knew, just KNEW, the other Lenneth still existed. She was simply buried somewhere deep inside Lenneth, hidden away under that doll like guise. It would take some time, Lezard having to reach in deep to drag out his spirited Goddess once more. But he WOULD get her back. Even if it took all of eternity to coax her out, Lezard would preserver. He was after all a relentless being, capable of many grand feats. Becoming a God was just one of the many miracles he was capable of performing. Restoring the spirit to a Goddess broken by a millennia of abuse could not be any harder than displacing Odin from his throne.

Of course, ridding Creation of Odin had been no small feat. Nor an easy or quick task to accomplish. That Lezard considered the task of restoring Lenneth’s spirit equal to the difficulty of taking Odin’s power for his own, proved how strenuous an endeavor he lay out before him. A different man might have given up before he even started, thinking it too much work for any one woman. Lezard would have considered those other men fools, weak and hardly worthy of their heart’s devotion if they could give up at the idea of making an effort.

Lezard knew first hand that effort. He had after all, crossed time, thrown off the shackles of his own mortality. Climbed to the heavens, and stolen a God’s power. All to chase after his dream, to bring that fantasy to life. He would be a sorry excuse for a man, to let a set back to his love deter his interest now. He wasn’t, and a set back was nothing now that he and Lenneth had all of eternity to be together. He merely had to exercise patience, that same patience that had allowed him to wait out an opportune moment to strike against Odin. That patience would lend itself well to his pursuit of Lenneth, perhaps being the only thing to comfort him on the cold, lonely nights of eternity.

The first of those lonely nights loomed before him, Lezard’s body still a tingle with the arousal Lenneth had caused within him. Even the knowledge that Lenneth had touched and kissed him, not out of desire, but out of a twisted sense of duty, could entirely calm his body down. Not when her hand had felt so wonderful, her touch there as masterful as her kisses had been clumsy. It made him groan, the sound a mixture of lust and disappointment, his cock seeming to stiffen completely at just the memory of what Lenneth had attempted to do to him.

He couldn’t afford to think too much about it. Lezard would go mad otherwise. Mad with desire, mad with longing for Lenneth. As it was, he ached, his body hungry and making demands. Lenneth had escalated things to this point, for Lezard had never intended to allow things to go as far as they had on this, their first night together. For all his fantasies, even he had known it would have been too much to ask of her. And then Lenneth had set his world upside down by gripping him where she had.

Another moan escaped him, Lezard staggering into the bedroom that was down the hall from the room he had left Lenneth in. He was making a concentrated effort not to think, and yet could not keep the memories from coming. From filling his mind, and overriding his senses. Lezard would barely get his clothes off, the newly made God practically diving for the tub of tepid water. Cold, but not enough to put out the fire raging in him, Lezard allowing himself to sink down to his chin in the water.

Trembling, with sweat beading upon his brow, Lezard fought to think of something, anything other than the touch of Lenneth’s hand, the sweet softness of her lips. He even tried to call upon the jealousy he had felt, the anger that had stirred within him at the thought of those who had abused Lenneth in the past. Even as he rasped out murderous promises, Lezard intent on hunting down and killing those who had hurt his beloved Goddess, his hands were moving. Gripping himself firmly at the base of his cock. He shook harder with the effort to keep from moving, and yet inch by inch, those hands of his stroked forward.

The feel of his hands gliding over his rigid skin, it made him lose control. Water sloshed over the sides of the tub, Lezard moving not only his hands, but his body as well. Thrusting into the squeezing fists he made, his eyes fluttering close. His breath came out ragged gasps, sound he attempted to silence by biting down on his bottom lip. He tasted blood when he tried to moan out Lenneth’s name, Lezard refusing to alert her to the lewd act he was performing. An act that was made all the more obscene, for he was using Lenneth, the memories of her to help hurry him to his release.

He had been aroused for too long, his release almost hurting when it came. He spurted seed into the remaining water, and felt instantly ill. Disgusted with himself for what he had just done, with how he had lost control. He couldn’t even feel relief, knowing his desire had been sated temporarily at best. He still wanted Lenneth, Lezard would ALWAYS want her. But for now, he would use this moment, these feelings of loathing and disgust, to serve as reminder that Lenneth was dangerous in a way he had not predicted.