The Oracle of Delphi (Greek Myth Fantasy Series) by Elizabeth Rose

holding back in fear of hurting her.
    “I am not fragile,” she told him. “I want to experience the act of coupling to its fullest. Please do not hold back and cheat me. I have been waiting for this my entire life.”
    With her words of permission, he thrust into her with the power of a demi-god. Unaccustomed to the act, she tensed then fell into his rhythm and relaxed. Flesh slapping against flesh, she watched Perseus come close to fulfillment, the intriguing act claiming her attention. But once he realized she did not join him, he flipped over on the bed, dragging her atop him, their connection never broken.
    “Ride me,” he told her.
    “What?” She was aghast. Never had she thought of coupling in this way.
    “Ride me astride,” was all he said, moving beneath her.
    With eyes closed, she rode him to the top of Mt. Olympus as if she were riding a stallion, legs straddled over him. Her body moistened with pleasure, the tingling nearly driving her out of her mind. He filled her completely, and her senses heightened to their extreme. She experienced the pleasures of passion she had always dreamed she would. She did not stop until she reached the sky. His name spilled forth on her lips in a cry of release. Her dream was no longer a dream, but reality. Perseus was her husband, and she was now his wife.
    His hands held her hips while helping her move rhythmically, as he, too, rode to his peak. And when he pulled them away, she collapsed beside him upon the bed. Sated and spent, she basked in the pleasures of having made love for the first time. With their breathing labored, it was many minutes before either of them spoke.
    “Well,” he said, his hand rubbing over her buttocks, but his eyes focused on her face. “The symbol is removed. We have proof of our consummated marriage.”
    “That we do,” she agreed, wondering how he knew the symbol was gone without looking. “Please tell me, what did the symbol look like?”
    He smiled and turned to hold her in his arms, his eyes closing in sleep. “There never was a symbol, Princess. You should not always believe everything you hear.”

Nine
     
     
    Andromeda woke to find the bed next to her empty. Sun streamed in from the vent hole in the roof, and the coals were cold upon the hearth - just as cold as her cold-hearted husband. Her anger still flared at Perseus and the little trick he had played on her last night.
    If there was no symbol on her backside, then he should have told her instead of tricking her into coupling with him. She threw back the covers, looking for her clothes. The wedding gown lay on a chair, neat and folded, but Tartaras could freeze over before she’d wear it again.
    She walked over to the wardrobe on the far wall, wondering why she had not noticed it the night before. Flipping open the double doors, she found many gowns suitable for a princess. She chose a short, honey-colored one, the plainest of them all. Pulling it around her and fastening the thick belt, she planned on looking as plain as she could from now on so Perseus wouldn’t get the idea of trying to couple with her again. She chose a long violet cape for travel, fastening it over one shoulder with a large gold clasp.
    Slamming shut the wardrobe doors, she made her way to the bedside to retrieve her sandals. Bending over to pick them up, she found herself once more in the same position that started all this last night.
    “Princess, you seem to like bending over the bed,” came Perseus’s voice from the doorway. “Perhaps tonight we can try that position for coupling. I think you’d enjoy it.”
    She snapped upright and turned so quickly she fell upon the bed, tangled in her own cloak.
    “Now, now,” he said, coming to lend her a hand, “I know you find it hard to leave the bed after last night, but I really don’t think we have time for a romp right now.”
    She slapped his hand away and sat up, hurriedly lacing on her sandals.
    “Romp?” She couldn’t help but hear the