Satisfied At Last (Mythology Erotic Romance): Part Twelve of the Erotic Adventures of Heraklea by Roxie Noir Page A

eleven tasks she’d done had been light spots in her life. She’d gotten fisted by a shapeshifter, fucked three centaurs in one afternoon, two river gods at once; there was a dominatrix and a regular lesbian and the weird theatre where she’d had to perform for hundreds of horny men.
    And while she was here, she didn’t have to get married to anyone boring, or have anyone’s heirs, or worry about shaming her parents. In theory, at least, she could have sex with whoever and whatever she wanted, and no one told her no or even seemed to notice.
    Well. The king had noticed, that was for sure. He’d been watching her latest encounter, with the titan Atlas, from a bush behind a tree — hardly inconspicuous, it was like he wasn’t even trying — but then, when she had finished herself and looked up, he’d been gone. He’d traveled across an ocean to watch her have sex with someone else and then he hadn’t even stuck around himself. Heraklea had absolutely no idea what to make of that. She guessed that maybe he just liked watching, but something there didn’t quite compute. If that was all he wanted, he could have ordered her to have sex with his guards — he knew for a fact she was willing, she’d offered more than once and had even outlined how she’d let them gang bang her — but he didn’t. Instead he sent her where no one else could watch.
    She thought all this as she walked through the palace to her quarters. It was the dead of the night and she was still tired and dirty. She had no idea where the king was, whether he had somehow gotten back before her or not. Even though she was exhausted, she wasn’t sure she could sleep in this state of constant unknowing, this state of thinking she might have to pack her bags at any moment, head back to Thebes, to her parents, to a tedious life of princessdom.
    Heraklea paused at the door to her quarters, her hand on the knob, and decided to go take a bath instead. That was where she did her best thinking.
    They were quiet and cold that late at night, but she found the one servant on duty and had him re-stoke the fire in the floor. Before long the place was hot enough to take her mind off of things and she sunk into the hot water, letting it rise to her neck, closing her eyes against the world.
    Then, footsteps. They were soft and wet across the marble floors, and Klea opened one eye, figuring it was probably the bath servant but instead, in front of her, stood one of the King’s personal guards. One of the ones she’d tried and tried to seduce but who’d remained perfectly stone-faced the entire time. Here he was, completely naked and glorious, looking like a statue of a god: perfect, chiseled abs, arms bulging with muscle, round ass like half a pomegranate, even his flaccid cock thick and long and beautiful. Inside, Klea mourned again that she’d never been successful with him. He wouldn’t even have to do anything, she thought, he could just lie there and I’d ride him like a bad pony and it would still   be great.
    “Occupied,” she said out loud. He’d never been nice to her, so why should she try?
    Instead of listening he walked down the marble steps and into the same bath as her, not even flinching when the hot water touched his junk. Then he sat there, stone-faced, and looked at her.
    “What?” she said.
    He leaned back, putting both his beautiful arms on the edge of the tub.
    “There’s a woman arriving tomorrow.”
    Klea blinked at him.
    “Okay,” she said.
    “The princess of Athens.”
    “Okay.”
    “She’s coming with her father, who’s on a diplomacy trip to Rhodes. Her father who would be terribly happy if he could secure a lasting peace with the king.”
    Klea blinked again at his face, and then slowly began to understand what he was getting at.
    “They’re going to get married?” she said.
    He shrugged. “It’s certainly possible.”
    She sat there, in the bath, mouth open. No one, until now, had told her a single thing about any