Goddess of Spring (Goddess Summoning 2)

Eurydice was chattering happily as she helped Lina out of her nectar-speckled robes. They were standing in the middle of the spacious balcony that looked out over the glorious rear grounds of the palace. Grounds that were decidedly empty of al spirits, male or otherwise, Lina noted. Directly in front of her was the basin Eurydice had ordered the servants to bring. Beside it was a smal table covered with bottles and sponges. Sitting closer to the basin than the table was a short, fat stool. Near the edge of the balcony was a chaise lounge that Eurydice had insisted the servants drag out of Lina's bedroom. On the chaise sat an intricately carved wooden tray, which held sumptuous pomegranate fruits, their skins already opened and spil ing forth their garnet-colored seeds. And, of course, there was also a crystal bottle fil ed to brimming with chil ed ambrosia. Lina grinned. A Goddess could certainly never have enough ambrosia.

The balcony itself was, like the rest of the palace, opulent and unique. It didn't just extend out and around the wal of windows. It curved gracefully, like one half of a Valentine's Day heart, until the balustrades opened to a circular marble staircase, which spil ed out into a flower-lined path, which led, like spokes in a wheel, to the first tier of Hades' gardens. It was her own private entrance to paradise.

Lina gazed out on the amazing scene while Eurydice unwrapped her clothes from around her. She hadn't been exaggerating when she'd said that the view was spectacular. And there was something about the light - it had begun to change. The pastel sky was darkening and the colors were deepening from pink to coral and violet to purple. Suddenly, torches flared alive al throughout the gardens, causing Lina to jerk in surprise.

"There is no need to worry, Goddess." One of the maidens who had stayed to assist Eurydice spoke up with the voice of a child. "The torches light themselves. There is no mortal man in the gardens to look upon your nakedness."

"What is your name?" Lina asked the young spirit.

"Hersilia," she ducked her head shyly.

"Thank you, Hersilia, for reminding me not to be so sil y." Lina smiled at the servant. Eurydice unwrapped the final layer of silky fabric from around her waist and bent to help her off with her leather slippers.

"Now just step into the basin, Persephone," Eurydice directed her. The marble basin felt cool against Lina's bare feet, and she decided that it was a little like standing in a giant cereal bowl. The lip of the bowl came up to her knees. She was about to say that she felt like a naked Fruit Loop when Eurydice climbed on top of the stool.

"You may bring me the urn."

The waiting servants formed an unlinked chain from the balcony, through the glass doors and into the bathroom. From mere they began passing hourglass-shaped clay urns fil ed with water, which, to Lina's delight, Eurydice poured in steaming waves over her head.

More servants dripped soap onto sponges soft as cotton bal s. Slowly, gently they began cleaning her skin. Lina's initial response was to stay very stil , with her arms held at a rigid T away from her sides.

Then Eurydice began to sing, softly at first, but soon the other spirits joined with her and sweet, feminine voices fil ed the balcony.

Pale, beyond porch and portal, crowned with hair of silk, she stands, she who gathers al things mortal within her soft, immortal hands.

Their song was slow and sensual, like the beat of bolero, and it stirred something deep within Lina. Intrigued, she accessed Persephone's memories. They sing ancient praise to the beauty of Goddess. They do you great honor. They did her great honor... Suddenly it didn't matter that she was wearing a borrowed shape. She was alive and beautiful and fil ed with the exquisite power of a goddess. Lina let her body go loose. She drew a deep breath and exhaled al the stress and cares and inhibitions of her mortal life. Her ivory skin tingled and she began to sway graceful y with the tempo of the song.

Her languid lips are sweeter than love who pines to greet her no mortal man shal meet her the Goddess solitary stands.

The hot water sluiced over her naked body, a river of silk the soapy sponges traveled along. Lina turned and laughed and reveled in the sensations cascading down her skin. She felt the evening air lick her sleek sides. It was warm, but in contrast to the heat of the water it brought gooseflesh rising on her skin and caused her nipples to pucker erotical y. Her laughter was infectious, and soon the maidservants joined her and the sounds of song and joy drifted through the palace and the gardens of the God of the Dead.

With slow, thoughtful steps Hades fol owed the snaking path that led from the forest, which separated his palace grounds from the Elysian Fields. The path took him through the third tier garden. He was glad that he had listened to Persephone's advice. Dido had been easy to find. Al he had had to do was to locate Aeneas. Her spirit had been nearby, pining miserably as she obsessively shadowed the warrior's every move. She hadn't wanted to drink of Lethe, such was the strength of her unrequited love, but Dido's soul belonged to Hades, and what he commanded she must do. As always happened, when she drew near Lethe her spirit had quickened. The river's seductive voice had entranced her, making her transition a gentle one. But it was not the memory of Dido that slowed the God's steps. It was Persephone. The Goddess haunted his senses. Though he had only held her in his arms briefly, he could stil feel the satin of her skin against his... taste the sweetness of her mouth... smel the scent of woman that clung to her body. He could stil hear her laughter. Hades swore under his breath. Was this what love was like? Must he be consumed with thoughts of her?

The laughter came again. Listening carefully, Hades halted. Then he drew a relieved breath. The sound wasn't coming from his imagination. It was being carried from the palace by the warm evening breeze. Now he could discern different voices along with Persephone's. Some were laughing, some were singing. Al were delightfully female. When Hades began walking again, his stride was no longer slow and thoughtful.

Entering the second tier, Hades scanned the rearview of his palace. Daylight had darkened to evening and the flickering torchlight that periodical y il uminated the gardens did little to aid his vision. As usual, the palace windows were gaily lit, and Hades thought he could see graceful, curving shapes outlined against the wal of windows that belonged to Persephone's chamber. He thought it odd that they appeared to be on her balcony. Hades increased his stride. When he reached the stairs that would take him up to the first tier, he was sure that he could hear the splashing of water. Taking the stairs three at a time, he climbed quickly up to the level of his palace. Here the greenery and flowers wound around in labyrinthine twists and turns, and Hades did not have a clear view of Persephone's balcony until he was very close to the edge of the gardens. The God stepped around an ornamental hedge and stopped like he had slammed against an invisible wal .

Persephone was naked. She stood in the center of a large marble basin, looking like an exquisite statue that had come to life. The stray thought passed through Hades' numbed mind that he suddenly understood Pygmalion's obsession with Galatea. Then his mind seemed to cease functioning completely and he became nothing more than a receptacle for the desire that scorched through his blood.

Eurydice was pouring trails of steaming water over Persephone while semitransparent maidservants lathered her skin and hair. The Goddess laughed and teasingly splashed water at the spirits, who were humming a slow, seductive tune between breathless, girlish giggles. The evening light was muted, but Persephone's body was silhouetted against the wal of glowing windows. Hades could see the flush that swept her ivory skin. His eyes ravished her body. His fingers tingled as he remembered how the delicate curve of her neck had felt under his too-brief caress. Hades'

gaze lowered to her breasts. The soft globes were ful and heavy. Their blush-colored nipples were taut, begging for the touch of his lips and tongue. His loins tightened and throbbed achingly with the heat of his lust. He ground his teeth together to keep from giving voice to the moan of frustrated desire that was building within him. But he did not turn away, he did not stop gazing at her. He could not.

Persephone's waist curved in, and then swel ed to flare into wel -rounded hips. Her legs were long and shapely. Hades' eyes were drawn to the inviting V of dark hair that formed at their junction. The curling triangle glistened with water, which dripped down her inner thighs. As if sensing him, Persephone's chin went up and her gaze shifted from the laughing servants to rove over the distant gardens. Hades was sure he would be discovered, but his dark cloak blended like night with the shadow of the hedge and the Goddess's eyes passed unseeing over him. Eurydice poured a final stream of water over Persephone and then the little spirit cal ed for a maidservant to bring her towels. They helped the smiling Goddess step from the basin and began drying her body.

Now was the time for him to turn away. Persephone's laughter floated to him and his eyes refused to leave her as they sought glimpses of her nakedness. His conscience told him he should go, but the voice of newly awakened desire and longing and loneliness drowned it out. The servants finished drying Persephone's body. Her hair drifted around her in long, damp tendrils, which Eurydice gathered and piled loosely atop her head. Then the spirit poured a thick liquid from a tal glass bottle into her hand and began gently massaging the oil into her skin. Two other maidservants joined her. Hades watched Persephone's eyes close. A sensuous smile curved her lips as the slick hands of the maidens anointed her body. Hades' breathing quickened. The glistening oil caught the flickering lights that shined through the windows of her bedchamber, and soon the Goddess's body glowed with a wet, luminous invitation.

The throbbing ache in his loins was unbearable and Hades' hand sought his engorged flesh. His breathing turned ragged as he stroked himself, quick and hard, never taking his eyes from Persephone's body. His focus narrowed until she was al that existed in his world. He imagined that it was his hands that were slick with oil caressing her breasts, cupping her luscious buttocks, traveling up her ivory thighs to find her moist core. There he wanted to bury himself, to pump his need into her and to be surrounded by her velvet heat. His orgasm ripped from his body, exploding with such hot intensity that it drove him to his knees. There he remained, knelt within shadow, alone, struggling to regain his breath. And, stil , his longing eyes locked on the Goddess.

"Persephone..." Her name was a harsh whisper on his lips.