For Scarlet, Gideon had arranged a lingering bath a few hours before, and had given her a clean white robe. Only, that robe was composed of lace and that lace conformed to her curves. She'd never felt lovelier, before or since.
When the two men stepped into her cell, she threw back her hood in eagerness, and her long, dark hair cascaded over her shoulder, brushed and silky for once. Gideon reached out, pinched a lock between two fingers, and brought the strands to his nose. He breathed deeply his gaze perusing her.
"Hideous," the Gideon between her legs breathed just as the Gideon in the dream rasped, "Exquisite."
A blush stained her cheeks, then and now. But she wasn't the exquisite one, and she knew it. There was no more gorgeous sight than Gideon. His black hair rose in spikes, his blue eyes were bright, the midnight lashes framing them like feathered fans, and his lips still swollen from her earlier kisses.
He possessed a shadow beard, sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. There wasn't a flaw to him. He wore the thin silver armor she'd shown him in his dream of Steel, as directed by Zeus, and that armor was etched with jagged butterflies exactly like the tattoos they now bore.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" she asked nervously. Back then, her voice had lacked the...hardness of today, and even Scarlet had to acknowledge how sweet and innocent she sounded.
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life, sweetness."
Her blush intensified, and ever shy, she cast her gaze to the ground, lips curling into a happy smile. "I'm glad."
"Well, I'm not sure about this," Hymen said. He cleared his throat, drew his hood around his face to keep his features hidden in shadow. "If anyone learns of my part in this, I'll be executed."
Gideon's arm wrapped around Scarlet's waist, a clear gesture of possession. "I told you. No one will learn of it, and besides that, you've already been handsomely rewarded."
"But I—"
"Discovery is the least of your worries," Gideon barked then. "Marry us or feel the sting of my blade. Those are your only choices. And, Hymen. If you feel the sting of my blade, it won't be only once. No one will recognize you when I'm done."
Hymen shifted from one foot to the other, his fear palpable. "Of course, of course. We'll start now." The words rushed from him. "Gideon of the Greeks, tell Scarlet of the Titans why you wish to wed her."
Those piercing blue eyes met her dark black ones, and he took her hands in his. "From the first, you enchanted me. You are more than beautiful. You are smart and strong and determined. When I'm with you, I want to be a better man. I want to be worthy of you."
As he spoke, this long-ago Gideon, more ice melted around Scarlet's heart. But he wasn't finished.
"I want to provide for you. I want to give you the life you deserve. One day, I will. Because I know, deep in my soul, that to part is to die."
Tears flooded Scarlet's eyes.
"Scarlet of the Titans," Hymen said, a little choked up himself, "please tell Gideon of the Greeks why you wish to wed him."
While her knees knocked together, Scarlet struggled to find adequate words. Words that would tell this man exactly how she felt. "From the first moment I saw you, I was attracted to you and hated myself for it. But how could I have known that underneath your beautiful exterior was an irresistible mix of courage, passion and tenderness? You quickly proved your worth, and taught me mine. I was a slave, but you made me a woman."
His eyes were filled with tears as well, she noticed.
"You are my everything," she whispered, chin trembling. "My past, present and future. My heart. My life. To part is to die."
Hymen swallowed audibly. "Kiss now and forever-more seal this union."
Gideon didn't hesitate. He wrapped his arms around her, drew her close and pressed their lips together. Their tongues met, twined, his breath filling her lungs and her breath filling his.
They were one.
In the present, Scarlet allowed the image to fade. She realized she'd never released the headboard, and the metal was bent. Realized Gideon had stopped pleasuring her, but she hadn't noticed, so lost had she been in the memory. So lost, in fact, that real tears were now streaming down her cheeks.
They were streaming down Gideon's, too.
Their gazes met as they had inside that cell, and she saw the emotion swimming in those baby blues.
He was the same, yet so completely different. And the differences weren't physical, though his hair was now as bright a blue as his eyes. He was harder, harsher, more distanced. Before, he'd had an easy smile and had delighted in soothing her with his biting observations of both the Greeks and Titans.
"Do you know why this prison is so big?" he'd once asked her. "Tartarus is overcompensating for the size of his dick."
She'd nearly swallowed her tongue, she'd gasped so hard at his irreverence. She'd always wanted to insult her captors, but had been too scared. Gideon had given her the freedom to do so, to finally vent, even in so small a way.
Now, he opened his mouth, but no words emerged. Perhaps he didn't want to lie just then, and she was grateful. She was too raw, too vulnerable, as if her heart had been cut out of her chest and presented to him in a ribboned box.
Slowly he climbed up her body. Still not speaking, he kissed her. Again, she didn't protest. She simply opened to him, accepting everything he wanted to give. She tasted herself, sweet and warm, but also him. Wild and minty. Before, his hands had been all over her. They'd kneaded at her, both taking and giving pleasure. Now, he cupped her cheeks, infinitely gentle. Giving all, taking nothing.
And like that, the icy shell she'd spent centuries erecting stopped melting. It simply tumbled down, brick by frosted brick.
"Not going to...won't...don't trust me, devil." Gideon unzipped his pants. "Not going to..." Again, he didn't finish. He simply pressed his erection between her legs, hard and unbelievably thick, unyielding male to weeping female, and hissed. He didn't sink inside but rubbed...creating the first bloom of a fever. A slow burn, but all the hotter for it.
Trust him not to take what she hadn't offered. But really, she wouldn't have stopped him if he'd poised himself for penetration. Still. He never did. He contented himself with the rubbing and the kissing, tongues rolling, savoring, simply basking in all that she was, as she did with him.
For a moment, she pretended they were back inside that cell. That this man really was her husband. A husband who loved her, who placed her needs above all things, even himself. She pretended that he would return to her tomorrow as well, love shining in his eyes. She pretended their only obstacle was her imprisonment.
"Gideon," she moaned.
Perhaps he'd been doing the same, pretending, because the sound of her voice snapped him from that steady pace. His movements toughened, sped up. Became more frantic. He'd always been so gentle with her, treated her like a porcelain doll, but now...he was dirty and wanton, consuming, the friction sparking.
She drank him in greedily, luxuriated. And it was easy, so easy to do. To give herself. To lose herself. Even though he was different now. Maybe because he was different.
"Not...my Scar. Not my Scar. Don't touch me," he pleaded. "Please, don't touch me."
Touch. Yes. Must. She pried her fingers from the headboard, her hands falling on him, nerves tingling back to life as her nails grazed his skin, leaving welts. He roared, a song of absolute contentment tinged with utter despair. The past and present, discordant yet soothing.
"You...you..." he said, then stopped himself. "Scar." A prelude, a waiting storm. "Don't come, don't come for me, don't you come for me." With every word, his cock pressed against her clit.
Every muscle in her body stiffened, pain in its most exquisite form. The shadows danced faster...faster...the screams grew louder...louder...until hers joined the symphony, the edge of completion rushing to meet her halfway.