Page 26 of The Night Belongs To Lovers

Both gods let out a joyful laugh at that last statement. Olympius had attempted humour, which was something he rarely did.

“I am sorry, my love, for allowing doubt to infect my senses. Can you forgive me?” Coriolanus felt ashamed to have allowed himself to fall victim to suspicions like a mortal. His worries over the past year were all for naught, for Olympius truly loved him.

“There is nothing to forgive. I love you unconditionally. You are a singular entity, Coriolanus, as much as we are a united pair. I only seek to understand your uniqueness, your complexity, though I may often appear humourless in the attempt.”

The shame vanished, and Coriolanus felt an indescribable joy. He planned to show his Maker how much he adored him, knowing the older god would reciprocate in kind.

With a single-minded, erotic purpose, Coriolanus advanced toward Olympius, employing the quickness he had inherited from him, and took hold of his Maker in a grand embrace. Tapping into the invisible forces and natural elements of Tellus-Mater, orGaia, to Olympius, Coriolanus concentrated as his Maker taught him and willed himself off the ground into the air, towards the night sky and high above the Volscian lands.

Only once had Coriolanus asked Olympius why he used the Greek names for things, as a Roman father had raised him. His Maker only said that the gods were far older than Roman nomenclature.

Driven by the zeal of the love-struck, Coriolanus stripped his lover of all clothing with speed equating his desire, allowing the finegarments to fall to the earth one piece after another. Then, with a mischievous grin and a nod to himself, he got the message across to Olympius to do the same to him.

When both of them were completely naked, they entwined their godly limbs. As hands roamed sensuously over immortal bodies with abandon, the lustful gods groped and clutched at hard muscle and unblemished flesh. Enchanted blood flowed to all their erogenous zones, greatly heightening the sensations of touch and response for each god.

Cocks hardened, and as Olympius’ form was smaller than Coriolanus’ towering build, his swollen shaft poked and rubbed against the warrior-god’s taught furry stomach, the coarse hairs sending shivers throughout his pale body. The fibres both tickled and caused arousal.

Coriolanus’ shaft throbbed between Olympius’ slim yet powerful thighs.

The Roman colouring of Coriolanus’ skin was still apparent, as he had not spent nearly enough time apart from the sun to begin losing pigment. Hence, a flush of pink appeared, caused by the rush of blood and excitement.

Olympius could see the radiant expressiveness of his lover’s bright copper eyes in the moonlight, so penetrating, drawing him in. His body pulsed with energy, his flesh near-glowing in the darkness of the night. His hunger was insatiable.

Without wasting another second, inherently knowing each of them had willed their unbreakable skin to becometemporarily penetrable, Olympius released his fangs and sank them deep into the warrior-god’s neck, sending shock after shock of sensations through both their bodies. It was unlike anything a mortal could hope to experience.

The intimacy between gods went beyond the pleasure derived from mortal sex, more profound than any orgasm the human body could generate. But for two gods whose souls were connected, the bliss was transcendent.

As his Maker greedily sucked the godly ichor out of him, Coriolanus felt a part of his spirit leave and enter Olympius, merging with his lover’s immaterial essence; this happened whenever they shared blood, but never with a mortal, no matter how much scarlet liquid they consumed. The gods knew from this that they were indeed two souls broken off from one, finally reconnected.

Unfortunately, as soon as either god retracted their fangs, the soul portion returned to its original host. Being together as individuals was wonderful, but nothing connected them more or felt as incredible as when they fed off each other and became one.

Coriolanus, incapable of holding out any longer, his eyes rolled back into his head from unbridled euphoria, extended his fangs and bit down hard upon Olympius’ shoulder, taking in a rush of red ecstasy to satisfy his craving for communion. This shared act of blood drinking was no prosaic feeding; this was lovemaking.

The two gods remained bound together in passion for some time, sharing memories, knowledge, and emotions, the enchanted blood moving back and forth between their immortal bodies as bothsucked and drank. And though he did not like that Olympius had closed-off places within his mind, Coriolanus respected his Maker’s privacy, even thoughhewas entirely open to his lover.

Eventually, the pleasure and pain of their godly intercourse became too overwhelming, threatening to place them both into a state of torpor which could send them falling out of the sky.

And there was still the business of war happening far below them.

To gods, engaging in pleasure while humans died fighting their vendettas was not something they felt one way or another about. Mortal lives were but the flicker of a candle: gods were of the Eternal Flame.

Coriolanus, however, was an exception. He had not been a god long enough not to feel responsible for the death toll, and he was genuinely concerned for his men. Knowing innocents were always caught in the crossfires of war did not make it easier to stomach. He was a military General and invariably practical in the face of war, but he was not an unfeeling bastard.

Each god sensed their partner’s fangs withdraw but with such swiftness that neither felt or heard anything as the tiny sabres exited the flesh. Immediately, they both willed themselves to be once more invulnerable. As they gazed into each other’s eyes, orbs that glowed in the night sky’s darkness, the gods engaged in a passionate kiss that would inspire envy in the deities of love and lust.

Reluctantly, the two naked immortals left the sky, though still intertwined, dropping in a haze of bliss back down to earth.

Right before setting foot on the ground, Coriolanus released his love from their embrace so Olympius could resume his lofty stance above the grass and soil.

“I no longer have anything to prove here, Olympius,” the warrior-god confidently stated. “I’ll recall our forces, for Antium’s defences, its warriors, have proven no match for them. The great Volscian city is defeated, burning. I am satisfied. And the survivors will spread the word of our might. Let’s soon be off to set up camp far from here.”

“As you wish, beloved. I will return to the night sky and search the lands to the east for a hospitable site for our next encampment. I shall return soon.”

With that, Olympius recovered his clothing and took to the sky so quickly as to become invisible, even to Coriolanus’ godly vision.

CORIOLANUS

The Present

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