Beyond Trojan Walls

Claudia stared out to the distant dunes, her mind on the beach beyond, and the man she longed to be in the company of. A deep and resonate sigh came from her small frame. She knew she would suffer now, suffer until the next time she was to set eyes upon her warrior. She turned at the slamming of the door to her bed chamber.

“Claudia!” Hector barreled in to the room at full force stopping just short of the woman as he tossed his sword and sheath roughly on the bed. “Have you taken leave of your senses? How in the name of all that is good could you have done what you did and not imagine the consequences?”

"It is your fault, dear brother. I charge you with this crime as my accomplice," she stated, her face a mask of indefinable emotions.

His own eyes widened as he stepped closer, his arms flailing. “I? Your accomplice?” He grunted, a rough, distinctly male sound. “How so? Please, sister, enlighten me!”

"You..You..." She found herself nearly torn in two with images of Achilles filling her head. "You came to me and told me of the Greek warrior, told me of Achilles, knowing my curious nature. I had to know, I had to see, I had to..."

An angry frustration filled Hector as he paced past her, needing distance between himself the woman he loved so dearly. “Achilles? All this because you wanted to see the enemy? Wanted to see Achilles up close?” He whirled on her, his eyes a blaze of anger. “Did you see him, sister? Did you see this warrior who so piqued your curiosity?” He stepped closer, his eyes now narrowing. “And, pray tell me, where was MY SON while you were abating your curiosity in my armor and on my steed?” He sighed. “Did you not THINK? Claudia, we are at WAR. Achilles is the enemy, not some curiosity for you to study and learn warfare from!”

"He is not MY enemy, Hector," she shouted as angry tears sprang to her eyes and tumbled unchecked down her cheeks. "He is not my enemy," she whispered more softly and turned back to the view of the dunes. "Your son was safe, be certain of that, brother."

A single look at her face and his heart melted. Moving toward her, he placed his hand gently on her shoulder and followed her gaze. “Talk to me, Claudia. Speak to me of what is in your thoughts, my sister.”

"You cannot fathom what has happened to me this dusk, brother," she whispered, laying her cheek onto his hand and allowing her tears to wash the dust from his fingers. "So very much, Hector, that I do not even feel as if I am the same woman that left these walls."

Easing her shoulders so that her torso turned toward him, his hand lifted her cheek so that her eyes were level with his. A frightening feeling filled is stomach as he realized that she had probably come into contact with the warrior in question … and the thought of what might have happened to her made his blood run cold. “Tell me,” he said with trepidation.

"How can I tell you what I have learned of your enemy? How can I speak of what he is to me now? Hector, can you still love me upon knowing?" She questioned, her eyes wide and red-rimmed from her tears, begging him to understand, begging him to forgive her when she knew there was nothing to forgive.

Hector was even more concerned now, not knowing more heinous than anything he could imagine. “Claudia, you know that I love you more than any woman I have known.” His hand held her cheek as he pressed his forehead close to hers. “What did he do to you?” His voice held the barely restrained love of a brother who adored his sister and would protect her with his life.

"He has stolen my heart, Hector. I love him as I have never loved another. I want him with all my being, brother. Even now, here within my own bedchamber, I die slowly for wanting to be with him." She sobbed brokenly, her slight frame trembling under the emotional onslaught.

The man was astounded by what he heard … his sister who had always been so stoic and void of lover-like emotion … in love with Achilles. It boggled his mind … yet he still had to know. Her cheeks still in his gentle hands, he searched her eyes. “Has he … did he touch you, Claudia?”

"I am still pure, Hector. He did not touch me in such ways, there was but the meeting of our lips," she confessed, her heart breaking anew for not taking what she could while with her warrior. "I will not say I did not want such things to happen. I did desire such, brother; it was Achilles that would not partake."

Had she but blown on him, Hector would have fallen to the ground, so surprised was he by her words. “Achilles? Would not partake?” A slow smile traveled across his face as he pulled his sister into his embrace. “Claudia … I do believe … you have chosen wisely. I saw Achilles but a little while ago … and he kept your secret with respect and decorum.” He sighed with frustration then. “But that does leave us … the two of you … in quite a query.”

Claudia would not allow her surprise to show, surprise that Achilles hd kept her secret, and surprise that Hector approved of her choice in love. "It does, brother," she whispered. "I also came to be in the presence of Odysseus, my uncle, and he no more favors this war then we. He asked for my aid. He seeks to halt this war before it is begun. I told him I would dream upon it and come to him at dusk on the morrow, if our armies have not met, and tell him of what is to be done, Hector."

The warrior brother studied her words, and nodded, his hand stroking her cheek before he paced to the opened window and gazed out of it … his thoughts on the woman who would surely suffer the more time was taken to end this strife. “You will come to me with your dream before you share it with King Odysseus … will you do that for me, sister?”

"I will, brother, I will come to you. You must do this for me; keep the armies of Troy and Greece from meeting on the morrow. I must have time, Hector," she urged, her face brightening with hope, with the thought she would meet Achilles again very soon.

He looked into her eyes with skepticism and surprise. “I will do my best, sister. It is not entirely in my hands.” He kissed her softly on the cheek and smiled, turning to the side and raising his arm in a silent plea for assistance in the removal of the leather breastplate. “But for now, I shall see my son.”

"We shall see your son...." She went to him and began the task of removing his armor for him, a duty she wished dearly she could perform for another warrior. "He sooths my troubled thoughts, just to stare down upon his face makes me happy."

As the armor was removed, Hectored tightened the linen wrap worn about his slim waist and moved to the water bowl near the sunlit corner. Splashing the cool liquid over his face, neck and forearms, he shook the moisture from the front tendrils as he grasped the drying cloth and proceeded to remove the water from his skin. “Yes … he is a breath of sweet peace in a world that is becoming more and more unharmonious.” Moving to his sister, he threw his arm around her shoulder, ushering her toward the doorway. “Now, little sister … lead me to my son!”


Claudia rode toward the dune as she did the day before, wearing armor and sword, upon one of her brother's lesser horses. She had fought him fiercely to be allowed to come unescorted, to leave Troy alone, and in the end he had finally given into her. Now, she kicked the horse towards the ridge from which she had first glimpsed him, glimpsed Achilles.

The golden warrior stood, his foot upon the same stone, his eyes watching the horizon as he inwardly groused, feeling the presence of the Ithacan king so close by, staring at the armored, yet distinctly too small, form. “I don’t understand, Odysseus,” he said for the hundredth time. “Why here … why now … and why her?”

The older man smiled, a rugged and manly look coming upon his noble face. “Women can often be the answer to all of life’s problems, my friend. Wait … see what she has to say before we begin our campaign.”

She rode close to the two men and slid from the horsed back. In one swift movement, she whipped the helm from her head, her coppery tresses tumbling to her waist. "Greetings, uncle … Achilles."

Odysseus moved quickly to her side, taking her in a swift embrace and kissing her cheek. “Greetings, niece. What news have you?”

Achilles walked quickly to the side of the two, taking his place by the female warrior and daring with his eyes the king to speak ill of it.

When the none-too-gentle embrace ended, she smiled and was quick to wrap an arm around Achilles waist, a possessive gesture. She, too, dared her uncle to mention the intimacy of their conduct. "Before I speak of my dream, I must ask the both of you, to what lengths are you prepared to go to stop this war?"

Odysseus was the first to speak. “To the ends of my ability … I want peace for all.”

Achilles nodded. “I am prepared to risk all that I am.” His hand, resting gently at her hips, squeezed warmly.

The king was not oblivious to the intimacy, yet there were more important matters at hand. “What have you foreseen, niece?”

"Achilles will kill Agamemnon. And you, uncle, will invite him to do so by urging the king to set aside his anger with Achilles and make peace with him for the good of all. You will conspire, and the king will die. This I have seen." She glanced from her uncle up to Achilles, fearful of what she would see upon his face; fearful he would reject her dream and leave them no chance come together in a time of peace.

Steely eyes narrowed as Achilles tried to comprehend her words. He … kill Agamemnon? As tasteful as the words were to his silent pallet, it was a concept that was alien to him … assassinating a man for whom he had agreed to fight. “In this sleeping vision of yours, tell me … why? If you have seen him die by my hand … you must have seen a reason.”

Odysseus felt the man’s tension and looked toward Claudia, awaiting the answer before continuing the conspiracy.

She dropped her eyes away from him as she nodded slowly, a prick of jealousy at her heart as she thought of the dream. "There is a...a woman among you...Agamemnon will become in raged with your words Achilles and rain down his anger upon this woman as you and Odysseus are made to watch. Your anger rises to a fevered pitch when you can only see in your mind’s eye another being forced." She shrugged as if the information was nothing at all to her, but it scalded her throat to speak of.

Achilles turned to Odysseus, eyes narrowed and hardened. “Persephone. Agamemnon will become even worse to her … cause her even more pain?” He cursed violently and walked away from the two, his hand moving over his mouth as his anger rose. “I’ll slit his throat and praise the gods for the ability.”

Odysseus turned to Claudia. “Agamemnon has taken a woman to his tent … he uses her to keep the spirit of the men high and raucous for battle.” His eyes hardened. “He treats her little better than a dog in the streets … and Achilles finds it reprehensible and unworthy of manhood to treat any female such.”

"Is that the only reason, uncle? Does this woman, Persephone, have a hold upon him?" She questioned, her heart squeezed tightly in her chest with Achilles reaction.

A tender smile feathered the king’s face as he reached to put a comforting are around his niece’s shoulder. “His heart does not yearn for her, my niece. He thinks only to end a tyrannical hold of a giant over a weaker being.” He turned to see Achilles pace, the strong, noble arm still holding her in comfort. “Even he, the warrior that he is, will not engage an opponent weaker than himself … can you imagine what it does to his senses to see a woman of his culture being used in such degradation?” He smiled as his eyes returned to Claudia. “Such is the man you have chosen to love.”

"And I am the better for it. Understand, uncle, I do not doubt Achilles, but I had to know if another has claim upon his heart," she replied, taking comfort from closeness of the man at her side.

“If you wish his heart,” Odysseus said confidently. “Then go and claim it … for I believe with all of my heart that it is yours for the taking.”

"I am ravaged by fear, uncle." She allowed her eyes to slide shut for a moment to try and quell the doubts inside. "Were he to reject me, I would breathe no more, my heart would slow to naught, I would grow cold as my life drained from me."

Odysseus could not help but chuckle as he pulled her closer against his chest. “And until you risk such … you will never know.” He tilted her face to look upward into his eyes. “Come now … be the warrior you wish to be, fighting for your right to love that whom you love.”

"Of course, you are right about such things." She laughed lightly and leaned up to deliver a gentle kiss upon his cheek. "I will win him for my own, even if I must battle him until he tires to force him to love me."

“ENOUGH TALK,” boomed Achilles as he stormed toward the two. Taking Claudia’s wrist, he pulled her into the tightest of embraces, kissed her as soundly as he had ever kissed any, and stared into her eyes with intensity and authority. “Tell me this … how do I do it?”

"How shall I be rewarded for the telling, my warrior?" She wrapped her arms around him and melded tightly together. There was barely a space for sunlight between their bodies, hers instantly warming to his, humming for his attention.

His own flesh was not immune to the arousing intimacy between them … and he struggled violently to keep his mind set as his arms convulsed, squeezing her so tightly he was close to exhaling breath. “There is time to think on that later. Is there not a war you wish to quell?”

"Yes, desperately so," she responded, trying not to sound so very desperate for his touch. "As you have spoken the threat, Achilles, you will open the king’s throat and his life blood will spill upon the wood of his sailing ship."

He turned to Odysseus then and nodded, his mind reeling with the concept. “Then let it be done,” he said with ominous authority. Turning back to the woman, the warrior said softly, “Go … and stay safe, lest this does not transpire as the gods intended.”

"You will send me away now, Achilles?" She leaned away from him staring up into his eyes. "I come this distance only to be of use to you in military plotting?"

The warrior chuckled, his hand moving firmly press her to his body, his hand running along the back of the leather she wore. “Will your brother not be missing his armor, Claudia of Troy,” he said softly, for their ears alone.

"Hector had promised me this time with you without interruption. He will excuse my absence to those who seek me. I have spoken to him of you openly, Achilles, and he is pleased." She smiled up at him, hoping he would not send her back to Troy without a moment of privacy between them. She yearned to taste his lips, to feel his strong hands upon her body. She yearned to speak to him as she had the day before.

His eyes stayed melded with hers for long moments. Without raising them from her gaze, he shouted to the man waiting. “King … I will return to the men anon … then you and I will decide how best to go about this conspiracy.” He smiled. “I wish a time of solitude with the dreamer.”

Odysseus smiled, turning to his horse and easily hefting himself onto the animal’s back. “As you wish, so shall it be. Good day to you both.” Tugging the reins gently, he turned his mount and galloped away over the dunes leaving the two would-be enemies alone.

"Tell me, my beautiful warrior, of this time we will spend in solitude." She laughed then, her voice a soft song upon the wind as her hands began to roam.

Taking her hands in his, he urged her toward their stone, easing her down to sit upon it as he moved to his horse, extracted a blanket and spread it across the sand. “Hector truly allowed this … you to come here … knowing you would be meeting with me?” He turned then, taking her hand and gently pulling her to the middle of the spread.

"Yes. He allowed it and even, to my mind, encouraged it. I told you that I spoke to him of you and the time we spent. I spoke of things that I have felt and ...desired while in your company," she responded, gliding gracefully down to the blanket beside Achilles. "Is there anyone you can share such things with?"

A touch of sadness threatened to filter his eyes. “No. No one.” He sat beside her, his hard legs stretched out, his upper body held up by powerful forearms. “I have a cousin Patroclus.” He smiled at the name. “We are fairly close. But …” He sighed. “Even from him do I hide my private council.” His eyes returned to their former life. “How, Claudia. Tell me how to release this hold I have on my own emotion. How to learn to separate the warrior from the man.”

She took a wild risk, a heart stopping risk. "Love me and all will be clear, Achilles. Share with me all that is in your heart and mind and I swear I will cherish the man that we discover you to be." She lifted her hand and laid it gently at his cheek, willing him not to reject her open loving heart.

His hand moved to sooth the back of hers gently, a tender smile forming on his lips. “Would that I could be certain of such, little one.” Again, the sadness sprung to his eyes. “But how can I ask anyone to love me when I so detest what I am and what I have been made to become?” His full, lower lip quivered almost imperceptibly before he gained control of it. “Were I to unleash all inside my mind, you could come to despise me and all that I am … as so many of your people already do.”

"You risk death time and again upon the battle field, Achilles, but you will not take this small risk for me." There was a note of pleading in her soft voice, pleading for chance openness with her, pleading for the chance to be loved. "I do not give my word lightly, nor my heart, Achilles, and if I swear love then it is love you will have for all your days."

His words became louder in frustration. No, not frustration … fear. Fear in the knowledge that she would wear down his resistance and his world could be shattered with but a single rejection. “Do you not see? Not understand? I would willing die a thousand … nay, ten thousand deaths at the most horrible of hands rather than lose your respect … your caring …” His voice lowered, becoming almost tender. “Your love.”

"It is something that could never be lost to you, Achilles, do you not see? Not understand? My heart has found you and is now in your hands. If you turn me away and will not love me, then love will be lost to me forever more. I will never love another and that I will swear with my blood. I can feel it so deeply that I quake with it." She inched closer to him, waiting for him push her away, to pledge his own oath that he would never love her.

Hugging her tightly to his armored chest, he pressed his sun-kissed cheek against her smooth one and sighed heavily. “How can I feel such tender and gentle emotions at times like this, and feel the thirst of blood and need for revenge at others.” He pulled her at arms length harshly, never once loosing the contact of his hands on her shoulders. “Do you know why it galls me so, the horrid hold Agamemnon has over Persephone?”

"Tell me, my warrior," she urged, suddenly finding the image if him drying his wet body before the surf swimming through her mind. "I will hear your mind on this."

Achilles was silent a moment before resting his hand on the back of her neck. Easing her toward him, he rested his forehead gently against hers, unaware of the familiar gesture between her and her brother. “Each time Agamemnon treats Persephone with such degradation, each time he humiliates her in plain view of his men … each time he forces her in any way … I think of you and how my anger would know no bounds were he to but look at you with anything less than respect or admiration.”

"When I think I could not love you more than in this moment, Achilles, you speak to me words that make my heart swell and my love grows so that it can not be contained,” she confessed, his words heating her body and soothing her mind. She wanted this man and decided then she would not leave the beach until he had claimed her as his own. "Achilles, I want....I had a need for..." But how to tell him, how to make him understand.

His eyes narrowed in confusion, the heat of the moment causing great beads of perspiration to spread along his brow. “I have need,” he said softly, “of removing myself from this leather before I perish from the sweltering heat.” He smiled sweetly as he turned to the side, raising his arms as Hector so often had in the past. He did not ask, he expected her help, would be surprised if she refused. And yet he had to control himself from shivering in anticipation as he waited.

Her hand went quickly to the bindings, trembling slightly, but working each one with sure movements. "I have need to see you without this armor, as the glorious man you are, warm and golden fleshed." Her words were whispered, low and sensual, meant to create a moment unequaled between them.

A soft smile was all the proof needed that her words had her desired affect. “You have seen me before, have you not? And in much less dress than this armor, if my memory serves correctly.” Did she remember? Did she notice that day … the day he thought her to be her brother and boldly stood before the rider and dressed easily, as comfortably as he would before any other male. “Think you my body would have changed so much since that day?”

"A sight so wondrous I could never forget, Achilles." She leaned in and dropped a kiss against his hard bicep, where armor met flesh. "I pray to any gods there may be that sight never shall change at all."

Easing the unfastened breastplate from his chest, Achilles unceremoniously tossed the armor to the sand, his bronzed, smooth torso glistening in the brightness of the sunlight. Uncharacteristically, he allowed her to look her fill before pulling her toward him, his arms embracing her in a band of steel as his mouth claimed hers in a heated kiss, his tongue fighting with hers for superiority. One hand moved downward, grasping her delectable posterior and pulling her hips closer to his.

She moaned softly into his mouth, her lips suckling at his, her tongue dancing along his. Below, a dewy wetness collected between her thighs, causing an aching restlessness. Her hands glided along the hard angles of his back, digging her fingers into the flesh there.

With long, tender movements, strong male hands traveled the curves of her neck and shoulders. Easing his hand to the slim, feminine side, he began to work the fastens of the borrowed armor she wore with the swiftness of an experienced warrior … and lover. Easing the leather from her body, he turned his palm upward, allowing the sun, battle worn back to gently run along the rounded portion of the full, generous breast that thrust beneath the thin, linen undershirt beneath.

She gasped and leaned away, meeting his eyes with wonder and awe. His touch was more pleasure then her innocent mind could have imagined. She wanted more as a heavy throb claimed the most intimate part of her. "Achilles,” she moaned, her voice a plea for completion.

Eyes boring into hers, a tender smile upon his face, Achilles leaned his head forward, this lips taking the stiffened nipple into his mouth deeply, his tongue caressing the sensitive nub through the thin material, the short chemise dampening with the moisture of his heated mouth as he suckled deeply.

Her gasp transformed into a breathless moan of pleasure. Arching and surging to meet him, she sought more attention to her breast, a more harsh treatment of the full, bountiful fruits. Her fingers found their way into his fair locks, caressing his scalp gently.

Her sensuous noises were almost enough to drive him over the edge of control as he tore the delicate cloth from her cleavage, his mouth opening wide enough to pull a fair amount of the generous mound into his mouth, his teeth brushing the sensitive flesh as he continued to suckle deep and hard, all the while, his hand trailing to the leather leg armor and making quick work of removing the offending material from her fair skin, replacing the leather with the sword roughened male fingers as they trailed gingerly up her inner thigh.

"My beautiful Achilles, what is it you do to me? I burn so hotly for something I cannot name." She mewled, her head falling back upon her shoulders. All the while her thighs slowly, as if by their own will, opened to him.

His fingers inched toward the source of the dewy wetness he felt trailing down the satin of her skin as he lifted his mouth from its erotic feast. “Its name is not relevant at this moment,” he whispered as his mouth sought the curve of her neck … his tongue creating moist tracks along her throat. “Just feel … that is all, little one.” His fingers then came in contact with the dampened center of her womanhood, his index finger sliding along the fleshy line of separation there. “Just feel what you feel.”

"I can do nothing more at this moment," she confessed through a sultry purr, her hand roaming languidly along the sides of his torso, feeling the tight battle hardened muscles stretched across his rib cage. A soft imploring whimper came from her throat as he touched her along the feminine lips of her mound, her hips rolling to meet him in a primitive invitation.

He accepted her silent beckoning, his thick, battle roughened finger slipping slightly within the throbbing portal of her being, moving only enough for his finger’s tip to glide along the feminine rim, memorizing her feel, her scent, her desire for him all in a single touch. All the while, his mouth wreaked havoc on her senses kissing, suckling, and nipping softly at every portion of exposed skin he could find. His body, too, came alive at her innocent touches, sensing even now the erotic lover she would become in his bed.

"Achilles," she whispered softly, trying to push herself more fully against his invading touch, his teasing intrusion. His finger drove her mad with desire for him, eager to feel his full mastery of her body, but first..."I wish to see your body again. I wish to see the parts that I have dreamed of, longed for, desired."

With the most difficult of movements, he nodded, acquiescing to her request, snaking his hand around her back and, in one, expert roll, fell onto his back pulling her to lay atop him, his body a mass of tension and hardness at the intimate contact of his stiffened manhood to her soft, gentle hips. “I am your servant, little one,” he whispered in sultry, throaty tones. And, at that moment, he was, indeed.

Her eyes widened at the position, knowing just how a woman rode a man, and her voice rose in a hitching laugh. Lowering her hands, she pushed roughly at the leather that still incased his hips. "Rid yourself of this detestable garment, Achilles, or would you have me take your own sword and cut it from your body?"

A knowing smile came to his lips as he lifted his torso and, one by one, slowly unfastened the clasps that kept the armor secured to his body. With each clasp’s release, more intimate sections of skin were revealed to her view, each section just as tanned and golden as the last, until, finally, the strength of his shaft could be contained no longer and sprang to life, high and proudly in the bright sunlight.

She stared openly at that part of him, the thick elongated column of flesh, with the clear weeping droplet seeping from the small opening that crowned him. "And you think to put this inside of my body? It will never fit. Never," she proclaimed, as her delicate finger trailed along the underside of his shaft. "It is so large that it surprises me it fits to any woman."

He chuckled softly, his finger moving to graze her cheek as he strained to keep his body from exploding beneath her tough, determined to allow her all the time she needed to acclimate to him in any way. “T’will be difficult at first, of that I’m certain.” He lifted her chin causing her eyes to divorce the view of his throbbing member and concentrate on the truth in his eyes. “Nothing will happen that is not as you wish.” He chuckled again. “I may be a warrior … but I am a better man than Agamemnon.”

"How can you be certain that it will fit into me?" She asked as she continued to explore his shaft, feeling it jerk at her touch now and then, and finally she wrapping her hand fully around him and stroking upwards with a smooth glide of motion.

The thick veins in his neck protruded as he strained to keep control, her stroking bringing a need inside him to erupt with the intensity of Olympus, itself. He worked hard to keep his voice calm and soothing. “It is nature, little one,” he said softly. “Your body will expand as needed.” He kissed her cheek softly. “And, if the pain is too great, then we will end it … for I would rather fall on my own sword than hurt you any more than necessary.”

"I will not allow it, Achilles; I will not allow you to retreat no matter the pain. I will be a woman for you this day, I would not return to my empty bed chamber to think upon what could have been," she vowed stroking him more quickly, more surely, her eyes dropping to half closed in her lustful excitement. Below, feminine juices slicked his thighs as she straddled him.

He moaned, a sensuous, erotic sound, as he summoned all the strength he possessed and grasped her wrist … the wrist of the hand that was causing him such physical and emotional pleasure. “And this I swear to you … that nothing will happen between us this moment, or any other, lest I have your vow that you WILL tell me if the pain becomes too great … that you will not be a victim in my bed … that I will not be an antagonist between your thighs! I must have your vow!” He needed it … needed to know that he would not use her as so many others of his kind used their women … as he, himself, had done in his silly youth.

"I will speak of the pain if it is too great to bear, Achilles, this I vow to you," she whispered, easing down to place a far more intimate kiss upon him than before. Her lips slid along the slicked and salty crown of his member, something she had witnessed in her youthful spying. As a female being raised among males, she had often spied upon her older brothers, curious about the women that came to their chambers and why.

It took all the power inside Achilles not to thrust his hips upward as if he were an impetuous youth who knew no more of mating than what was visible of the sheep in the field. A large intake of breath and every muscle inside him contracted to a tense knot of desire as her tongue touched the hardness that frightened most women from his side. Hand moving to caress the fire that was her hair, he moaned slightly and offered a prayer of thanks to Aphrodite … on the off chance that she be real and listening. “Ah, little one,” he managed to say huskily. “Your mouth is the embodiment of every man’s dream.”

"I want only to be in your dreams, Achilles, loving you like this for all times," she purred sweetly against his shaft as she slipped him fully into her mouth, her small pink tongue creating a cradled friction along the underside of him.

In the fog of erotic desire that washed over him, Achilles was able to keep one thing present in his mind. Reveling in the sweetness of her mouth for as long as his body could stand without eruption, he pulled back his hip and slid his hands onto her shoulders, gently pulling her lips from his shaft. “I want not for this moment to be about me, dear little one.” He leaned down and kissed the lips that still had his body thrumming even though they were not longer attached to him. “I want this moment to be for us.” Another swift roll and he was on top of her, her back firmly against the blanket … the soft sand beneath as he maneuvered his hips above hers. “Please understand that the pleasure you sought to give me would have left me completely sated and satisfied to the point of oblivion.” His fingers easily found the portal to her femininity and moved to open her to him gently. “But if such had transpired … it would have been much too long before my body was able to seek the solstice that lies within yours.” At that, he slowly, tenderly pressed his heated manhood into the doorway of her womanhood, stopping only to allow her body to stretch and accommodate to his before he eased his hips forward, punching ever so slightly into her very soul.

"Achilles!" She gasped and withered below him, her body in the grip of searing pain and blissful pleasure combined into one whirlwind of sensation. "Oh Achilles!" The stretching inside her felt as is she was being pulled apart, her delicate body torn apart.

He sensed the tension in her tiny form and forced his eyes open, his own body a testament to tight restraint. He searched her eyes and saw the pain … his mind reeling at the thought of ending this tight, vice-like sensation that enveloped his throbbing manhood. “You are hurting,” he ground out, his hips lifting to withdraw from her immediately.

"NO!" She grasped and clawed at his hip, trying to keep him deeply seated inside her. "Yes, but it will pass in a moments time, will it not? Already I feel a measure of the pleasure to be had at this...this mating." She wrapped her legs tightly around him then, anchoring her heels at the back of his thighs, close up to his hind quarters so to urge him more deeply.

Unprepared for her intensity, the heels at his hips caused his body to fall into her fully, his long, steely shaft thrusting past the barrier of her maidenhead with much more force and violence than he had intended. A deep intake of breath tightened his chest as he realized what he had done … the pain he must have caused so ruthlessly pummeling into her … and a self-loathing overtook him. Stilled completely inside the warmth of her pulsing body, he breathed words he had never spoken before. “Little one … I am so sorry!”

Her breath stalled fully in her lungs and tears rolled fat and unchecked down her sun soaked cheeks … but she would not allow the pain of his hardness to steal these moments from her. She began to roll her hips against his forcing a rhythm of love making. "Do not be sorry, my beloved Achilles. I am yours in all things from this moment forth. I love you."

Looking into her eyes with incredulous awe, Achilles leaned forward, kissing her with the tenderness of a lover as his body began to lift, lower, thrust and pull backward, each movement a driving proclamation of his claiming of her. “I … love … you,” he whispered, trying the words on his tongue for the first time as they mixed with the erotic kiss that he had begun. He knew it would be a long time before he could say those words again, so alien were they to his being … but he also knew, as he rejoiced in the joining of their bodies, that she knew his feeling … that she would always know and always reciprocate in kind. It was as if the gods smiled on them at this moment in time as he worked her body expertly with his.

Claudia could not contain the emotion that swelled along with her passion inside her, as she rode the turbulent sea of their desire, meeting him thrust for thrust and begging with her suppliant body for more. "I love YOU, Achilles. I love you now and forever."

As gently as possible, with as much compassion as his heated body can muster … Achilles introduced Claudia to the ways of sensual pleasure, being certain to keep his own straining body contained until he felt the first true convulsions that signaled her climax was nearing. Allowing his own body full rein then, his tension heightened as the heated liquid that was his essence traveled the trail, ending in an amazing explosion, covering the walls of her womanhood as he pulsed and expended inside the warmth of her body creating a sated completion such as he had never known. Falling, he rolled to his side, never once breaking the connection their bodies held as he panted for life sustaining air while his arms held tightly around her.

Claudia laid her cheek against his chest, over his heart, the wild beat echoing her own. She felt fulfilled, happy, and above all else loved. "When next can we pleasure one another, Achilles?" She whispered, her tongue snaking out to lap as his glistening chest.

He chuckled in awed happiness, his arm tightening around her shoulders to pull her close. “By the gods, little one … should this vision of your see fruition we shall spend the rest of our days pleasuring each other.” His face fell slightly, his fingers beginning to slide through the tangled, fiery tresses. “I cannot stay much longer, Claudia. My men await my leadership. Without me in their midst, there is possibility they will listen to Agamemnon in my absence.” He kissed her forehead and nestled her face to his chest. “That would be horrendous for our cause.” It was time. Time for her to prove that she accepted him for what he was … a warrior.

Her eyes widened and a smile broke across her lips. She did not want him to leave her arms but she would accept it and ease his heart. "It is good that you know your men so well and can see their weakness and counter it. You will go to them now and be the man and warrior that has no equal." She leaned up and kissed him soundly on the lips. "You must see this cause through quickly. I look forward to growing large and round with your babies, Achilles," she teased nuzzling at his neck; but deep inside, she could not wait for exactly that.

His own smile mimicked hers as he returned her kiss soundly and rose, moving to gather his armor and hand her pieces to help him dress. “You will be weak from the trying to obtain such!” he said with a gleam of satisfaction.

"And I will then bask in my exhaustion, my love." She laughed lightly as she began securing him into the hard leather that protected his life. "Shall I inform my brother that you will be speaking to him of me?"

“No,” he said authoritatively. “That is something that I want to do man to man … warrior to warrior.” He turned to look tenderly upon her face. “But make no mistake … I will speak to him as soon as time permits.”

"Achilles …" She chewed uncertainly at her lower lip. “I cannot lie to him. He will ask me of our time together. He will see upon my face what has happened between us. I can not hide it."

Hector was a man of intuition and intelligence. That much was common knowledge throughout all the lands. Achilles smiled, tossing back a lock of golden hair that had escaped the confines of the leather thong. “If Hector is the man I think he is, he will see on your face that you are happy … and he will await my words to him.”

She nodded, hoping he was right … but fearing he wasn't. "Of course, he is all that you say and he will wait."

“And if he doesn’t,” he said, as his armbands were secured and tight. “Then tell him what you will, for I have nothing to regret or hide.” He leaned forward and kissed her with all the passion he could muster … then he bent and began applying her armor, as well. “Ride straight away to your dwelling. Stay safe, but keep yourself armed. This you will do for me?” His eyes bored into hers.

"I will arm myself for you and I will do anything else you ask of me, Achilles. I love you." She moved against him as the last of her bindings were secure. "Come to me soon? Come to Troy?"

He took her into his arms and kissed her gently. “I will come for you as soon as it is safe for me to enter your walls.” He smiled, his eyes alight with mischief. “The walls of your city, that is.” Another kiss, and he patted her well-formed backside before lifting onto her horse. “Now ride. And no matter what is ever told to you … doubt not that I love you.”

"There will never be a doubt in my mind of your love...." She smiled sweetly down to him as she held tightly to the horse below her as it tossed its head. "If ever you should think to visit me, there is a way into Troy that would assure you safe passage into my bedchamber. There are but four people who know of it..."

His eyes lit with mischief as a golden brow rose. “Four people?” He smiled seductively as he moved forward, allowing his hand to caress the smooth thigh, covered by the leather studded armor. “And who would these four be?”

"Hector, Paris, my father, the high guard, and of course I," she told him quickly the same mischief in her eyes. "How do you think I am able to come and go so freely from the city?"

“The high guard?” His thoughts became a whirlwind at that moment. “This could be in convenient. Bad enough, should I use this passage, that I may run into your father or brothers … a high guard would have a Spartan’s head on a spit.” His hand began to caress the skin beneath the thin separation between the armor legging and hip guard.

"Have I been discovered? The only other you would come face to face with in the tunnels is Hector. While the tunnels are known of, they are not used. Use them if your dare, Achilles, but keep in your mind that it is I alone that lay waiting for you." She laid her hand over his and leaned down to touch her lips to his.

He took the kiss with intensity and passion. “Tell me how to find the entrance,” he said as he began to back away, reaching for the reins of his own steed.

"The east wall, the entrance is disguised as an abandoned shepherd’s home. The door lies in the floor, Achilles," she whispered against his warm moist lips, her hand roaming along his neck. "The passage comes directly to my chamber, the only door there will be mine."

Easing away and jumping onto his animal, he smiled wickedly. “Rest well, little one. For you never know who may visit you in your dreams.” He kept his eyes locked on hers for a fraction of a moment, and then gathered his reins. “Now, ride! Keep your promise to me and stay safe and armed.” He tugged at the reins, turning the horse toward the encampment. “I love you! Farewell, for now.” And, as if on the wind, he rode off … golden hair blowing in the wind behind him.

She simply watched him for a moment, her heart beating wildly within her chest. Her love for him knew no bounds and, if not for her iron will, she would have called out to him, tried to entice him back. She respected him as well as loved him and would not do that to him. Once he disappeared towards the dunes, she turned her mount towards Troy and rode hard.


Persephone lifted the tent flap slightly, staring out the crack to the scores of men in the encampment. Closing her eyes, she turned and scanned the abode, searching for a weapon of destruction … a weapon to end her suffering, as the gods had seemed to desert her. Having Agamemnon gone, she scavenged the tent for anything.

The king of kings had not gone so very far, he stood just out of her sight watching her pilfer the interior of the tent. He silently urged her to pick up the small fruit knife near his plush seat, urged her to try and end her own life so that he might punish her for such and act.

Looking quickly over her shoulder, long blonde locks falling into her face as she sought, she came to the makeshift throne. A thrum of anticipation ran through her being as her eyes spied a glimmer in the shaft of sunlight. Running a delicate tongue over full, ripe lips, her hand grasped the paring knife in her tiny hand … fingers tightening around as if it were her lifeline instead of the element of her demise. Standing, she backed away from the velvet throne, staring at the weapon with determination.

Yes! Use it, my beautiful slave! Agamemnon’s mouth practically watered at the thought of hurting the woman, making her pay for defying him, punishing her. Inwardly, he laughed wickedly; realizing she could chose to use the knife upon him instead of herself. He, also, welcomed the struggle that would bring about.

Sighing and raising her eyes toward the tent’s ceiling, she almost scoffed at the gods she had recently turned from, Persephone grasped the dagger in both hands, lifting it to line perfectly so that it would fall, plunging between perfect breasts to pierce her heart … knowing that would be among the fastest of deaths. Closing her eyes, she wetted her lips again and began the silent count.

Before the count was finished, a strong bronzed hand wrapped around her own, forcing the dagger from her fingers. "Take care, Persephone, so that you will not fall upon such an object and injure yourself." Achilles voice was gruff but filled with compassion.

Vivid green eyes flashed into the warriors gaze as the woman’s shoulders squared with the noble sense to which she was born. “You only postpone the inevitable, Achilles.” She turned her back to him, her arm folding over her chest as her eyes glanced, unseeing, toward the pallet that was her bed. “You think to save me. In reality, you condemn me to further torture.”

"Quiet yourself, woman," he whispered, hissing near her ear as he appeared to lean in and pull her scent deep into his nostrils. "Your words are overheard and will bring you more pain."

Her hand moved to press against the smooth, coppered chest, her eyes hidden from any view save the soldiers. “Do it, Achilles,” she said, her fingers moving to dig deeply into the flesh of his powerful upper arms. “Kill me and have it done with? Surely there is nothing but death saved me … take me from this world?”

"I know there is more, I have heard it from one I trust as no other," he whispered, kissing her cheek lightly, making certain it appeared he was trying to seduce her instead of impart wise advise to her.

Turning her face to allow the kiss, her brows knitted, trying to understand his words. “You? Trust?” That thought was incomprehensible, for Achilles, the water, trusted no one … that was common knowledge. Leaning her head back in a seemingly seductive pose, she could not help but question … her demise temporarily forgotten. “From whom? From whom, and what have you heard?”

"It mattes not," he reached up, touching her, his fingers tangling in the long tresses. “You will know soon enough."

Agamemnon stood watching the scene unfold, his ire rising. Achilles was a thorn in his side he longed to be rid of, but simply could not. He needed the legendary warrior and it thoroughly galled him. "Achilles!" He backed as he strode from behind the cover of the tent fabric.

Persephone jumped back, the only sign of her fear the slight trembling of her fingers held tightly at her side. “Milord,” she said with all the nobility she could muster. “Achilles was doing no wrong.” Her life was forfeit, that was certain … but she could not allow the king to extract his vengeance on one who had done nothing, save show her kindness. “It was I who lured him here.”

"I doubt your words, woman, but it matters not," he barked, his angry turbulent eyes falling on Achilles. "What do you want?"

"I came to inform you that my men and I will not be fighting for you this day." Achilles dropped the news with as much grace and care as a hammer upon an anvil.

The blond moved between the two men, her regality exuding from every inch of her being. “He is a brash youth, your highness. Allow me to speak with him and set things to right.”

Achilles eyes bore heated anger. "I do not need your words to instruct me, you’re neither my mother nor my lover. You will keep your own counsel, Persephone"

Achilles’ words were harsh and sharp as a sword for a reason. He would not allow the king to think there was more in him for the woman than simple lust, for the king to know he felt sympathy for her would give him an advantage. She would be hurt because of such feelings, so he kept them carefully hidden.

With shoulders squared in humiliation, the woman nodded. “As you wish it.” Stepping back, she took what had become her place, easing onto the seat beside the king’s plush throne.

"Your counsel is not needed." The king looked to Persephone, his eyes swinging from Achilles to her. "If Achilles does not wish to fight then we will battle without him. The name Achilles will not be spoken when this battle is mentioned."

By this point, Persephone had internalized more than she could contain. To speak against the king was to court danger and death … and death was exacting what she was seeking. “Then more’s the fool, you are, sire. For without Achilles and his men, your campaign will crumble and fall, never to be thought of again.” Her eyes blazed into Agamemnon’s from across the room. “Your men need his … without them, you WILL fail.”

Achilles body tensed to the point of snapping, but to look at him not an eye would notice. He watched the scene with casual disinterest, hoping the woman would not push Agamemnon further. "We will not fight your battle this day." He turned and moved to a tray laden with fruit on a low table and popped a juicy fig into his mouth.

Persephone simply stared forward with eyes blinded by abuse and mistreatment. Back ramrod straight, she internally breathed a prayer that Athena would charge in, mystic sword crashing down and smiting Agamemnon as Persephone fled into the darkness, hiding from all in her shame and humiliation.

Agamemnon turned toward the golden warrior then, his eyes flames of anger as he boiled with the impertinence of the beautiful wench nearby. “Leave us,” he threw toward Achilles with rumbling rage. “GO!”

With deliberate slowness, the soldier finished his fruit and stood, moving unhurriedly toward the king. “I leave … but know this.” He stood face to face with Agamemnon, his body tensing. “I will not fight in battle … but I fear not battle with the gods … think you I’d cringe from the likes of you?” He kept the man’s gaze for a moment, turned, and departed into the night.

Persephone merely sat … awaiting the wrath of the royal as she stared with unfocused eyes into the void of space around her.

Turning to the woman a malicious light filled Agamemnon's eyes, turning them to a near amber color. "You hate your life so much here, woman? You would rather live as a shepherd’s wife?"

“My life is not mine to love or hate. My life is to be at the disposal of the king.” She spoke from rote … words that had been memorized over the horrid time of her entrapment by the king in question.

"Yes. Yes." He shook his head as if she were a simple child and went to his beloved throne. "Perhaps, when the war is over I should give you to the men. They will use you night after night until you are torn beyond repair."

She closed her eyes, knowing, in her mind, she was already beyond repair. Her eyes flicked quickly to ensure the knife was in its place and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was, Agamemnon moving it before sitting. “Shall I bring your food, sire?” The complacency she pretended made the bile to rise in her throat as she rose and moved toward the trencher, brushing past his knee as she reached for the food.

"No," he hissed and pulled her roughly across his lap. His hand fell soundly against the sensitive flesh of her hind quarters. A pleasurable laugh jerked from his throat with each new contact with her.

Tears welled inside her as the monster kind began his ritualistic torture. First this, then worse, but she would endure as much as possible before he would get what he wanted … before he heard her scream. It was then, at the moment when she knew his arm would soon tire, that the noise was heard at the tent’s doorway. “Your majesty, King Odysseus of Ithaca.” She breathed a sigh of relief knowing this to be the one man Agamemnon would try to impress.

Agamemnon shoved her roughly from his lap and motioned her prone form to a nearby pillow. He resumed a royal air there upon his throne. "Enter," he called loudly, casting a warning glance sidelong at the woman beside him.

Moving into the tent with the ease of a seasoned warrior and grace of a seasoned king, Odysseus nodded respectfully toward Agamemnon, his eyes immediately going toward the woman on the pallet. Even without the benefit of Achilles’ warning, stretched as she was in the lounging position, he could instantly see that Persephone was anything but comfortable. Keeping his anger reined at such injustice, her spoke eloquently. “Your majesty …. Persephone.” He turned toward the man sitting so cockily in his seat. “Let us begin this tomorrow. You and your men set sail on your ship and go by port toward the enclosure of the city. I and the others will attack on foot … that way we will surely divide and conquer.” Remembering Claudia’s words … Agamemnon’s blood spilt on the wood of his ship, he sought every way to have the distasteful king in place.

"No. I wish to stand before the walls of Troy and watch them crumble." Agamemnon refused the suggestion of battle tactics, his eyes narrowing on the man before him. "My friend, Odysseus," he cooed with false nicety. "Why would you have me sit upon my ship while my men lay siege to Troy. Have you heard talk that I have not?"

Odysseus took the newly formed like and expanded. “There has been speculation that the mightiest warriors of Troy will try and counter by sea through the port. We need the mightiest men for counter attack. Since we no longer have Achilles and his men … the next option would be you.”

Agamemnon shook his head. “No. I will stand on Trojan soil, not fall upon the city from the water. It is not to my liking." He dismissed Odysseus’ suggestion with no further intention of debating the issue.

“So be it,” the Ithacan king stated, reverting back to his original plan. As Agamemnon sniffed in dismissal, fingers absently fiddling with a paring knife, Odysseus walked near him as if to beseech understanding. Instead, a mighty hand reared back and flew forward in a ferocious punch, the strong fist of Odysseus connecting with the unsuspecting jaw of the man before him. As the body went slack, Odysseus looked toward Persephone, motioned for silence, and moved to the flap of the tent ushering in another man from an ally army. “Idomenus, come … hurry!”

Persephone watched as the men poured mead onto the unconscious king. Hearing her name, she snapped to attention at Odysseus’ voice. “Go with Idomenus. He will make sure you are seen among the crowd causing the men to focus upon you, thus giving me a chance to place Agamemnon where he needs be.” He moved to the still girl and touched her face, softly urging. “No harm will come to you this night. This I swear! After your round, he will see you safely in my tent where you will be protected.” He smiled tenderly. “Now go. Take your part in this war with pride.” He looked toward Idomenus. “Take her now.”


Turning here, twisting there, Achilles moved through the darkened maze, the only light the single candle held in his grasp as he moved steadily on. He was alone, this he knew, yet nothing could prevent the indescribable need to look over his shoulder, assuring himself that he was not followed. He knew what the morrow would bring … knew Odysseus’ plan to have Agamemnon on the ship in the port behind Troy. He also knew there to be a chance, no matter how slight, that fortune could frown against him making the day his last. And if it should be his last, then tonight he would surely live life to the fullest. The thumping of his heart was all that could be heard as silent footfalls continued down the corridor to its end … the hidden door at its finish. Looking around once more, he extinguished the burning light and softly tapped on the entrance.

There was a wide smile at Claudia's full lips. The knock could be only one person, the timber so strong and demanding she would have thought it was Hector; but he never knocked upon her door, he simply walked in as he pleased. "Enter," she called softly as the warm water in the basin below soothed her trembling limbs.

Eyes narrowed in stern protectiveness, Achilles eased the door open and moved into the dimly lit room. Seeing her form silhouetted by the moon shining through the window, he came close to losing his thoughts, so beautiful was she standing there at the bathing bowl. Moving closely to her, breathing in her scent, his words were much less stern than he had intended. “The door is kept unlocked,” he said tenderly, his hand reaching out to stroke the dampened tendrils. “How is this safe for you, when any can come and go as they please?”

"There is nothing for me to fear here, my love," she whispered sensually and motioned towards the dagger lying beside the bathing bowel. "I have kept my word to you. I am armed with a dagger at all times and if I've need to leave this house, I go escorted by Hector, Paris, or one of my father's guards." Her chest was rising and falling in quick secession, his form so exciting her. Her mind was a muddle but she knew that she must at least tell him that her vow had remained.

His eyes moved seductively over her outlined figure, the moonlight creating an angelic effect over the corner of the room. His hand moving from her moistened tresses to fit gently on the back of her neck, he easily pulled her from the basin, the flower petals floating inside creating the most sensual of scents. Easing her toward him, his free arm moved possessively around her waist moving her hips flush against his as his mouth moved to rain intimate kisses over her jaw line. He found himself vocalizing the words that made him feel overly territorial. “I trust no man to escort you save your family. No palace guards.”

"No palace guards," she repeated heatedly as her lips hovered near his. Below her fingers went quickly to the binding of his armor. "Now, Achilles, allow me a simple pleasure..."

With a touch of a smile, he lifted his arms slightly allowing her easier access as his eyes moved lightly around the room taking in the intimacy of her abode. The huge, soft looking bed, the delicacy of the accoutrement on her dressing table, the soft, gauzy material of the curtains gently blowing in the breeze from the window … as a warrior used to the hardness of encampments, this was a new aspect of life for him.

She smiled as she saw his eyes survey her room, taking in all the furnishings. "Is my chamber not to your liking, Achilles? Perhaps too soft and delicate for your warrior sensibilities?" It was a teasing jest and she leaned closer as the last binding fell away and ran her tongue in a long line along his bicep. "I would be agreeable to returning to the beach with you if you so wished it."

He chuckled almost nervously as his tongue ran along his full bottom lip, his arms lowering to slide seductively around her waist as his widened eyes still took in the room. “Soft and delicate … and much too fine for a soldier such as I.” He looked with something akin to lust at the smooth, satiny sheets … the material’s sheen shining in the luminous shaft of light from the window.

"Your belief is wrong, my beautiful warrior. I will introduce you to the softness...." She licked another line along the column of his throat as the armor was lifted free, her words trailing off to allow him to draw his own conclusion to them. "Bear all for me, Achilles? I wish to bath you as I have longed to do since watching you upon the beach."

Her words sent a thrill of anticipation running rampant through him … but also left a lingering sense of insecurity. He bathed religiously after each battle, but was always uncertain if it was enough. One more glance at the fine sheets and he realized himself much too filthy to lie upon them. Looking into her eyes, he smiled slightly as his hands moved to remove the remaining material that protected his hips and groin from the hard leather of the armor. Allowing the thickened linen to wisp to the floor, he stood before her, a statuesque form in all his glory.

As if reading his mind, tethered by a connection deeper than the collections of moments they had shared, she shook her head. "It is not what your mind tells you, Achilles. I simply wish to run my hand over your bare, wet flesh … to see your body glisten in the candle light..." Again, her words trailed off, not able to finish with their heated journey. Her body grew warm, much too warm, and there came the dewy droplets at the opening of her feminine mound. Turning, she reached for the linen cloth she had smoothed across her body moments before.

Twisting his neck, he watched her every movement as his mind tried desperately to believe her final words. Moving his arm, he allowed his thick, long fingers to swirl the water, the fragrance of the still, delicate flowers floating within the liquid bursting into the wafting air. “T’is is a sweet scent … fine and feminine.”

"And will you complain, lover, of leaving my bed in the morn and smelling of me?" She turned back to him with a sultry smile claiming her lips. The cloth glided across his wide, dark chest, followed by her fingers, kneading the flesh eagerly. "I could not eat nor sleep this day, for my eagerness of your coming was so great, my love. I feared you would not be able to part from your men and your duties and I would be left alone in my bed longing for you."

His eyes closed as she bathed him with the fragrant water, the erotic feeling more than he’d ever experienced before. “How could I not come to you after our time together?” He sighed gently as her touch grazed his abdomen, its hardened planes quivering just slightly at her contact. “How could I leave your body and not long for more? And as for complaining of leaving your bed smelling of you …” He smiled a dazzling smile. “Did I complain when I left the beach smelling of your sweet essence?”

"Did you? I do not remember smelling of fresh cut flowers then. I remember smelling much like you, of leather and sweat...." She ran the cloth slowly down his stomach, her delicate fingers tickling and teasing along the way, coming to a halt just above the thatch of golden hair from which his manhood would rise. Quickly, she jerked the cloth up and away from his skin, redirecting her efforts to his shoulders.

He chuckled then, the sound hiding his slight disappointment at her hand’s changing direction as his shaft jumped softly in anticipation of her touch. “It was not the scent of flowers that I remember, little one,” he said in husky tones. “It was the scent of our bodies mixed together that so invigorated my senses.” His hands moved to her upper arms, bracing himself there as he reveled in the intimate feeling of her preparing him for the soft, delicate cleanliness of her bed.

"A scent I remember also. Intoxicating," she whispered as she moved around his body, urging him to remain still as she washed and soothed the hard muscles of his back. And then, without giving him the slightest hint as to what her intentions were she knelt behind him, the clothing sliding into the separation between his rear quarters as she kissed and lapped at a well muscled cheek.

A sharp, deep intake of breath occurred as he felt the personal touch she created, the firm globes of his posterior tensing at the erotic sensation. Surprisingly, his long, thick maleness lurched upward in instant hardness as he came to the startling realization that this particular portion of his body was distinctly sensitive to her touch. “Woman,” he breathed. “What is it you are attempting to do to me?”

She avoided the question and asked one of her own; allowing her warm breath to flow over the wet flesh her mouth had occupied a moment before. "Would you have me stop, Achilles?" She traced a line around his hip and gingerly, hesitantly, touched that jutting part of him.

Again, his body moved instantly at her touch as he struggled to contain his breathing. “That question, you know the answer to, my lover,” he said softly, his hind quarters again tightening at the tickling contact of her breath. He wondered at the thought that he could have gone all these years and never known the sensitivity of that area. “Does my body seem to be in need of your stopping?”

"No. It would seem just the opposite, dearest warrior." Her light touch trailed down his twitching shaft and over the furred sacs below, testing the texture and the firmness. Lowering her mouth back to the firm, sun kissed flesh of his rear, she bit lightly, nipping and grazing him with her teeth. "You taste of fine, fresh figs, baked to ripeness in the Greek sun..."

A contraction of tenseness in the muscles of his bronzed globes betrayed his emotions as his head fell back, his long blonde locks tickling the flesh of his back as his tender, sensitive sacs tightened at her touch. “None has ever done such to me, Claudia,” he breathed, uncertain of why he felt it necessary for her to know such as the thick veins protruded within the hardened organ that was his manhood.

"Do you speak of touching you thus? Or do you feel your pleasure more deeply with me, Achilles?" She questioned just before her pleasuring took a painful twist. She bit roughly into his rear, curious to know his reaction as she grasp the base of his shaft and stroked him.

His neck muscles tightened as the biting ache actually caused his steel to jerk uncontrollably, even with her hand controlling its movement. He could feel the precious liquid forming at the tiny opening and almost moaned audibly. “Both,” he hissed between his clenched teeth, his body actually screaming for more. “That portion of my body has always been untouched by female hands … and yes. I feel the pleasure definitively more with you than with any other.” His eyes opened again and glanced the fine, satiny sheets … the same insecurity overtaking him, yet not manifesting enough to wane his hardened desire.

Claudia smiled against the smooth, salty skin before biting again on the opposite globe. "A pleasuring act I can lay claim to as the one and only," she purred against him, her hand stroking half his length with her small reach.

Achilles felt his legs begin to buckle, something that he had not experienced since he first lie with a woman many, many years ago. He lowered his hand and stroked his abdomen, loving the way his belly quivered at the tickling sensation which mixed erotically with the heated lust that formed in his rigid manhood. He closed his eyes again, imagining the reddened teeth marks on his buttocks, wishing that he could see her brand. “The one and only,” he breathed sensually, his breath ragged and lustful. “And know this,” he continued, his hand falling to her delicate wrist as he attempted to guide her rhythm. “You may not have been the first to have my body … but I swear you will be the last.”

"Are you pledging yourself to me, Achilles? Here and now?" She whispered as she worked her way around his body, biting once more at his firm cheek, lapping at fleetingly at his hip, and now located poised in front of him again, kneeling. Her luminous eyes stared up into his as she was in a position to stroke him fully.

Looking down into her eyes, his long, fair locks dusting his powerful, bronzed shoulders, he allowed his hands to wind into the fiery tresses, gently caressing her delicate scalp. “T’is a pledge, should you wish it to be.” He was still leery, his heart having been locked away for so many years. He would not care for or entertain the body of any other woman after Claudia … for who could want another after receiving perfection.

"Then a pledge it will be," she breathed against the crown of weeping erection. Her hand worked faster over him as her mouth claimed the prize below, kissing and licking at the sacs tight against his body. "You have my pledge was well, Achilles. I will love you and only you for all the days of my life and beyond. My body will know only yours and I will bare you strong and healthy sons from our unions."

In the instant before his mind was overtaken by the intense desire that claimed his body at the contact of her mouth with his most intimate physical areas, just a fraction before his mental acuity was struck short by the erotic thrum that raced through his body, he realized that the sheets remained untouched … and then it mattered not as his hands remained entangled in her beautiful hair, unconsciously guiding her mouth where his body instinctively needed it to be. “Then we must work together to end this altercation between our people so that we can be together as we have committed … no?”

"Yes, Achilles, we must and soon," she agreed as her lips kissed along the column of flesh where her fingers had been moments before.

“Ah, yes,” he found himself whispering, his neck and shoulders tense as his body sang for her touch. “Sweet, little one,” he cooed deeply. “Give a warrior what he wants … what he needs.” His fingers stroked through her hair as his body turned hot from the sensations she was creating. “Love me,” he finally said, as he felt his thick, hardened member begin to twitch violently at her contact.

She was eager to love him, to pleasure him, and with his words she slid the dewy tip between her lips and suckled, pulling him in inch by slow inch. She wondered for a moment after her boldness, how had she come to know just what to do for this man's pleasure … how to work his flesh so well that he would say such words to her, and then all thought was lost as his member nuzzled at the back of her throat.

His brace was almost broken as he felt his manhood pulled deeply into her mouth, her tongue and mouth creating the most wondrous of feelings throughout his entire body. He felt the hair on his legs stand as his hand moved to the back of her head on its own and began a none-too-gentle push. He vacillated between never wanting to lose this feeling and wanting to throw her to the floor and plunge his hardness so deeply inside her feminine walls that she would weep for mercy. “I shall kill any man …” he breathed in ragged gasps, “any man who even looks upon you with thus in his eyes.”

She cut her tearing eyes up to his and was met with the smoldering intensity of his lust. She tried not to protest his demanding actions, but she could not breathe and she had begun to panic. Clamping her small hands at his thighs, she tried to push him away from her so that she could gain a breath and take him more slowly, she was new to this pleasure and found it harder than it appeared.

Feeling her slight withdrawal, Achilles controlled his raging need and placed a hand on either side of her head, forcing her eyes to his again. “Never,” he whispered through his desirous lust. “Never do I wish to see the alarm … the fear in your eyes that I see now.” The feel of her mouth on him was as intoxicating an experience as he had ever encountered, yet he would willingly give up any pleasure to be had to see her comfortable again.

Her eyes softened then and the fear disappeared as if wishing it away had been enough. Slowly, she drew him all the way back into her mouth and took a deep breath before swallowing him into the tight encasement of her throat. She fought not to gag, not to allow her throat to convulse with the invasion, and finally she won the battle with her body and could comfortably take him in the depths of her throat.

Overwhelmed with the feeling of his enlarged manhood clamped so very tightly in the moist, heated chamber of her mouth and throat, his knees obviously buckled as he felt the lava like liquid travel to the very tip of his shaft, the fluid that was his essence dripping into the void of her throat as he sought to control its hot, shooting stream from erupting. “Lovely little one,” he whispered hoarsely, his own throat practically closed tight. “Oh, do what you will with your soldier.”

She did just that. With her tongue as a cradle caressing the underside of his jerking shaft, she began moving him in and out of her bird like throat, swallowing tightly around him each time so as to add to the friction pleasure. Her own body trembled with desire, with need, and a thin line if liquid heat ran along the inside of her thigh.

Panting, breathless with a desire born of what could only be the gods, he could contain his body no longer as her stimulation wreaked havoc on his senses. Trying to remain quiet so as not to alert any to his presence, he gritted his teeth, eyes shut tight as his orgasmic fury came in swift, heated streams from his body, pouring uncontrollably into hers as her name hissed through the slightly parted teeth.

Claudia drank down the warm stream that bathed her throat, only the slightest taste finding its way to her tongue. She moaned loudly against him as she began to rock her hips in a passionate dance of building need, her own eyes rolling in her head. She had never imagined such an act could be so intensely pleasurable for her as well as her lover.

It was a moment of erotic and emotional connection between the two as Achilles gave his body full rein inside the cavern of her throat. Just as sensual was the feel of the cool air kissing his intimate skin as his wetted, waned manhood slid from her mouth, only to be so-very-gently from her tender, yet lascivious lips. The moment was quickly broken, however, as a firm tapping was sounded at her door, followed by a distinctly feminine voice.

“My lady,” Melior’s melodic voice wafted. “I have need to speak to you concerning your nephew.”

In an instant, with the swift and purposeful movements of a skilled warrior in search of safety, Achilles bent and grasped the thin linen material, covering his intimate area from view as his eyes sought Claudia’s for a place to hide.

Claudia stood from her kneeling position facing Achilles, smiling with all the heat that was still simmering inside her. "Enter," she called out, her voice rising in a note of happiness.

With a look of surprise, the soldier rose to his full height, a hint of a proud smile upon his own lips as his eyes stayed locked on his lover’s as the door opened, the wet nurse stepping inside. “Claudia …” Melior’s words were broken off as she noticed the half-nude male standing so protectively beside the woman she had some to see. “My lady,” she said, confusion overtaking her. Her eyes scanned toward the armor discarded on the floor near them. Armor that was obviously not Trojan. Eyes widened, they flew back to Claudia.

"Melior," she greeted and then turned her eyes up to Achilles for a moment. "Do not be alarmed. I was not attacked by this beautiful Greek warrior. He is my lover, my mate, and someday soon I hope he will be my husband. He is Achilles."

Melior noticed the look of loving pride in the eyes of the soldier as he gazed down upon the woman she had grown to admire and love throughout her time in this home. Easing her concerns inwardly, she gave a respectful nod of her head in the direction of the god-like form. “Good sir, it is an honor,” she whispered.

Achilles returned the gestured. His arm snaked around Claudia’s waist for moral support as he came face to face with a member of her household … wondering if this woman would leave the room and go straight to his love’s warrior father, alerting him to Achilles’ presence.

Claudia would not let his concerns ripen. "Melior, I must ask that you mention Achilles’ visit to me to no one. He is not yet ready to approach my father on the matter of our union."

The woman nodded instantly and turned her eyes to the man’s. “Sir, are you hungry?” Her eyes then moved toward Claudia’s. “Should I bring some food?”

Achilles notably relaxed then, his hand gently resting along the perfectly rounded hip of his love. “I will admit to having missed my evening meal to slip away and travel here.” His skin warmed in a slight blush at admitting such to the woman by his side.

"Bring wine, cheese, and fresh dates," she instructed her most trusted woman, the only one in her household with whom she could be fully herself. "Now, what of my nephew?"

Melior stepped closer. “Helen … she will not leave his room and his eyes grow tired. Paris and Hector are in conference with your father and I hesitate to disturb them.” Her eyes brightened as she lowered her defenses enough to tease. “Certainly I would have thought twice of disturbing you had I know you had … a guest.” She chuckled slightly before again becoming serious. “As I am not a noble of the household I cannot insist she adhere to your nephew’s schedule. I thought …”

"But I certainly can. Tell Helen I have ordered you to bring him here, to me," she told the other woman in a brisk, frigid breath, her anger piqued that Helen would try and invoke Hector's lust through a show of affection for his son. "He will sleep here with Achilles and myself. If Hector should wish to have him upon his return, tell him where his son is to be found."

Melior’s eyes widened, her gaze again traveling Achilles’ half-dressed form. “Send Hector here, my lady?”

Achilles could not help but smile. He was used to having women gaze upon him with lust in their hearts, but never before had he been looked over by a woman as if measuring his worthiness to a beloved friend.

"Yes. You and Hector at the only ones to know of my love for Achilles," she explained, a smile of humor turning her lips up as she dropped her hand to stroke Achilles hard thigh.

Melior nodded again, the intimate gesture not going unnoticed to her eyes as she turned quickly and flew through the door, anxious to extract the child from Helen’s grip.

Achilles turned, his body beginning to liven again at her nearness, his hand moving to stroke the softness of her cheek as he leaned, depositing feather light flicks of his tongue along her lips. “What is this that has a babe sleeping by your side?” He knew he had no right to ask of personal goings on in the household, but he longed to know everything about her and her family.

She sighed in wondrous delight at his touch, all too eager to share the happenings of her life with him. "I care for my nephew. Hector's wife is dead and his son needs a woman to care for him. I would not let that duty fall to another for I love them both without reason. He is as much my child as Hector's now. Melior gives her milk for him. Will you share me with the babe this night? He will sleep in this chamber." She lifted her hand and pointed to a reed cradle situated in the corner of the room near the bed.

Achilles’ gaze followed her finger, his mind reeling. Hector? A child? As much hers as Hector’s? “Most certainly I will share you with this infant,” he said softly, his fingers caressing the sensitive skin along her throat. “But … Claudia … what part does Helen play in this scenario?”

She growled deep in her throat in disgust, her fury reaching her eyes and sparking wildly. "She is not...satisfied with Paris only...she would have Hector in her bed also. She seeks to win favor with him through his babe. She is an evil, I swear it, Achilles. It is not enough for her that she had broken the piece between our lands but now she seeks to turn brother against brother."

Achilles shook his head, his eyes closing as a sarcastic smile touched his full lips. “How can one woman seek to do so much harm?”

At that moment, there came another tap at the door as Melior entered with the baby in her arms, the wiggling infant obviously delighted to see Claudia. “Helen wishes to speak with you,” the woman said. “She is in a temper.” Handing the infant to his aunt, she stepped back with a satisfied smile. “He has been well fed this eve. Shall I sleep in the ante chamber, lest he have need of my breast in the night?”

"Yes," Claudia said taking the infant from her woman's arms and laying him against her shoulder, patting his back soothingly as he cooed. "Tell Helen I will not permit her counsel this night. Tell her that Hector's child is mine as well in blood and she has no claim upon him. Tell her also, if she seeks to have Paris speak to me on her behalf I will have her denied the infant and will have the guard keep her from Hector's chamber from this night forth. You, Melior, have leave to remind her of my place in this household."

A look of surprise and pride settled upon the woman’s face. “As … as you wish, Claudia,” she said softly, backing toward the door, her hand grasping the handle, her eyes focusing on Achilles momentarily. “And I shall return with your sustenance.” Turning, she hurried out, closed the door and scampered down the corridor.

Achilles watched the portal close before moving his gaze to the woman and child. Easing to the chair beside the dressing table, he sat and tenderly viewed the loving scene. “You have made an ally for life in Melior this night,” he said, smiling as she handled the infant. “Treating her as a friend instead of servant … she will certainly be filled with loyalty for you until her dying day.”

"And I her, Achilles, make no mistake about it. I would take another's life without a blink of the eye for her." She eased the infant down her bosom and into the cradle of her arms, dropping gentle kisses all about his smiling face. Her face beamed with the light of love for the child in her arms. Slowly, she moved across the chamber to Achilles, easing onto his bare lap and tilting the baby so that he could watch him also. "So innocent, nothing but love in him, not a care in this world."

Achilles’ thick finger moved to the infant’s hand, its tiny grasp holding tightly to the digit … a smile lighting the warrior’s face as he experience the joy to be had in the domestic pleasures of home and hearth. “But Claudia …” His eyes lifted to hers. “What of the time when Hector marries again? When the child receives another to call mother?”

"Hector will marry well, Achilles, and I will love his wife and call her sister. We will share the life of this child." She giggled as she glanced from the babe to Achilles. "Think you that I may have my own babe to mother whence that time passes?"

The man shrugged, his arm snuggly around her middle as his finger danced within the grip of the infant, his little eyes staring up into the gaze of the warrior. “The reality is, Claudia … my child could be growing inside you as we speak.” His eyes moved to hers, a tender smile on his face. “I would never wish your love for this babe to diminish … but from your words, I admit to being a bit worried in that respect.”

"Oh, Achilles, I could never love out child less than this. I would love him as the moon loves the stars, as the sun loves the sands. I would love the child you create inside me with all of my heart. Your son and Hector's son will be brought up as brothers." She stared into his eyes, tears brimming there. She then realized the infant in her arms was yawning and she handed him over to Achilles.

With a confused furrow to his brow, Achilles took the bundle of wriggling flesh, the helpless baby encircled by strong, protective arms. The discomfort his face exhibited was not shown in the tender hold he kept on the child. “Claudia??”

"Hold him while I tend to his bed." She giggled, padding over to the reed bed and arranging the linen there. From the corner of her eye she watched, eager to see Achilles interact with the babe he held so carefully.

“Yes,” he said in mock gruffness as he positioned the child’s bottom to nestle in his lap, his large hand holding gently the downy head upright as the infant’s bright, observing eyes roamed the room. “But blame me not if he’s returned damaged. I’m a warrior, not a baby’s maid.” His face softened into a smile as the child laughed a gurgling laugh at the tickling finger Achilles administered to the chubby belly.

You are meant to be a father, that is certain, my love. She knew it was true in her heart; he was made not only to be a warrior, but a father also. "You will not damage him, Achilles, I see caring for him in your eyes," she teased, returning to the two.

Looking up into her gaze, he lifted the squirming mass to her arms and handed the child over. “I’m hardly worthy of that fine bed, much less the child in your arms.” He shrugged slightly as he watched her gently take the child from him. “You forget, dear little one … I am the warrior, Achilles.”

"I forget nothing, my love. I see much more than just the warrior. I see the warrior, the man, the leader, the father you will be." She smiled sensually over her shoulder as she laid the infant on his back and rubbed his stomach until his eyes slid closed.

He stood, then, and wandered over to where she stood, his hand resting softly on Claudia’s shoulder as he looked down at the tired babe. “How can Helen look down into this face and seek to use his innocence for her own gain?” His arms moved of their own accord to wrap tenderly around her waist, pulling her back against the solidity of his chest.

"She has never known love for a child, and if the gods are merciful she will not ever know it. I shudder to think of the mother she would be to Paris' child. I would raise yet another nephew before I saw one of my own damaged by her," she swore, turning in Achilles embrace, his flaccid member brushing softly at her belly.

Leaning forward, his mouth found hers in a loving kiss, the long locks of his golden hair falling to skim softly along her cheeks as his tongue slipped boldly within the mouth that had given him so much pleasure but a few moments ago. Just as he pulled her tightly to mold her body to his, a soft tap came again at the door … Melior with the promised sustenance. Achilles lifted his head, a gentle smile of amusement on his face.

"I can see I will cry for you this night, Achilles, if we are not left to our privacy." She sighed, her head dropping momentarily to his chest. "Enter," she called softly, attempting not to wake the sleeping infant.

The woman came into the room, a tray heavily loaded with various forms of succulent food and wine. Moving quickly and keeping herself silent, she moved to the bedside table and placed the tray there before nodding and turning toward the ante chamber door hurriedly to allow the two their privacy … a secret smile on her face.

Claudia was quick to return the woman's smile, appreciative of her service to her, to them. "Now you cannot accuse me of being cause to miss a meal," she teased Achilles with a pat upon his chest.

He chuckled heartily at her words as he moved gingerly toward the tray, taking a handful of figs and partaking of one with as much regality as he could muster. Being unused to dining with feminine company of the noble class, he had to resist consuming voraciously and eating with some sort of gentility. “Will your lady leave us in peace now?” he asked with a seductive smile as he reached out, offering her a fig from his hand.

"There is no doubt, lest the babe starts to cry for a feeding," she answered, tilting her head to accept the tasty fruit from his hand.

“Which, no doubt, he will,” Achilles said, his body coming to life as she took the fig with erotic slowness. His arm moved around her and pulled her tightly to his form, his hardening desire becoming more than obvious against the flatness of her abdomen. “In battle, soldiers are taught to make the most of the time given them.” His breathtaking kiss was fast and plundering as his hand dropped the remaining figs to splay sensuously across the small of her back, easing her even further toward his hard body.

"Yes," she purred softly at his touch. "You are no in battle here, Achilles, and you will eat to retain your strength" She reached out then plucking a fig from the tray and lifting it to his lips, all the while reaching between them and stroking him. She was determined to keep him ready, but to feed his hunger as well.

The response to swallow was almost lost to him as the succulent oral stimulation was mixed with the heady, hot feel of her delicate fingers fondling him with such assertive boldness. His eyes stayed locked to hers as his own fingers grasped the thin material of her dressing gown at the curve of her feminine hip and slowly began to bunch, causing the hem to rise until his fingers could touch the soft, satiny skin along her upper thigh.

"You seek to distract me from my task, my warrior?" she asked, caressing the heavy sacs below his member, rolling them along her fingers. "You will eat, Achilles."

His jaws slowly worked the fig as his fingers slowly moved from her silky thigh to the firm, pliable flesh of her perfectly rounded posterior, kneading in the like rhythm of her own hand that worked him so efficiently into a state of needy arousal. “Will you leave me so unsatisfied, yet with a filled belly?” He gave her the perfect look of mock innocence as his fingers moved from her sensitive buttocks to travel the path toward her most intimate of areas.

"I will slake all of your needs, Achilles. I will provide everything to you. I will be everything to you." She gasped breathlessly as she continued to ply him with fruit, yet feeling unmistakable path of his fingers.

His free hand grasped her wrist, pulling the fig so deeply into his mouth that his tongue caressed her fingers, separating each one and lavishing them with oral attention in turn. All the while, his erotic fingers found the sensual flesh of her woman’s lips, his index finger sliding along and inside the slick separation, and gently touching the portal so ready for his body.

"Achilles, tell me quickly..." She bit roughly at her bottom lip to seal the heavy moan inside her. "Is your hunger eased?"

The tip of his finger inserted as if on its own as Achilles stared into her eyes, wanting to see erotic desire there. “The hunger of my stomach has been sated,” he said in husky tones, his legs bending slightly as his finger moved further within her body, swirling in gentle circles. “The hunger of my body has only begun.”

"You should ease your hunger now," she urged, her curvaceous hips rolling against the pleasuring extension of himself. "Please, Achilles."

His eyes narrowed for the slightest of seconds, still unwilling to soil her fine sheets with his warrior’s skin. He was experienced, however, and quickly wrapped his arm around her waist, lifting her delicate body from the ground and carrying her across the room. Lacking complete gentility, he thrust her back against the wall furthest from the baby’s cradle, his body’s weight holding her steady as his hand extracted from her body to grasp firmly his raging shaft and guide it into her waiting portal.

Claudia had given the change of position hardly a notice, her mind consumed thoroughly by her lover's touch. "Now, Achilles, join with me now. Slide yourself into my eager body, my love," she whispered as her eyes met his.

Her words arousing him even more fully, the soldier thrust into her fully, his hips and body pounding into her with the intensity of a battle … a lover’s battle meant to determine which body was in the most need. Trying not hurt her tiny form, he could not resist trying to drive deeper and deeper within the walls of her body, seeking refuge there … seeking love in the only way he knew how.

"Yes, Achilles! Yes...." She gasped, clutching roughly at his shoulders, digging her small crescent nails into his flesh. "Is my sheath not a perfect fit to your sword? Do I not hug you with perfection? I can feel you so deep, Achilles, battering at the door of my womb."

“The pain is past,” he hissed through gritted teeth as he continued to pummel his manhood into her quivering womanhood, opened to him and grasping him so tightly that he felt that most intimate part of him would snap. “Your body is so matched to mine … I fill you to capacity and you squeeze me so tightly I’m like to cry out for mercy.” He felt the first signs of climax run through every vein in his body … as it settled heatedly and with great intensity at the very portion of his velvety steel that so hammered her woman’s cavern.

"No pain only pleasure, my love..." She swore, riding hard upon his thick column of pulsing flesh. "You will not cry for mercy, you will shout my name as you spill your seed deep inside me, Achilles. I see it now, you straining to prolong the pleasure....."

“Prolonging the pleasure … for both of us … my love,” he panted, his body betraying him as his hips thrust forward one last time before the explosion within her body sent stream after stream of his creamy essence pouring into her, the heated essence seemingly never ending as his shaft jerked and twitched within the overly tight confines of her canal. As his essence depleted inside her body, his legs began to grow weary … his body straining to hold her in the perfect position before betraying him to slide down to the floor. He was careful, very careful not to allow their bodies to detach, finding a desperate need for the intimate contact as his back touched the ground and her body fell upon his torso.

Claudia laid her head against his shoulder, panting in the aftermath of their lovemaking. She was loved and she loved in return, she rejoiced in that as her heartbeat echoed his. "Achilles, take me to our bed."

With a tender smile, he acquiesced, his body tensing only slightly at the thought of befouling her bed. Easily shifting and lifting her slight frame from the floor, he walked the distance to the bed, easing her softly onto the smooth, satiny sheets, her head falling into the deep pillow. Moving to sit gingerly beside her, he moved his head toward her, his arms sliding beneath her back to pull her toward him, his lips claiming hers in a tender, loving kiss.

She returned the kiss with a soft brush of her tongue, a suckle at his lower lips, as she pulled him with her to the sheets. "What is your great pleasure, Achilles? The one that no other can equal." she asked, ready to comply with any fantasy he chose to deliver to her.

Feeling the softness of the sheets on his sun kissed back, he sighed, until her words floated to him through the sensual fog created by simply being near her. Lifting his head, he looked into her eyes, willing her to understand. “Any pleasure I have ever dreamed of has been brought to fruition each time our bodies connect.” He moved then, allowing his leg to throw over her hips and straddling her body in an intimate touch, his flaccid member nestled between the dewy flesh of her womanhood. “No man could love another more than I love you … and no man cold desire another more than this body desires yours.” He dipped forward, his tongue running gently along the dusty rose circles around her nipple as he sighed contentedly, his hips moving to drench his fallen sword in her honeyed juices. “Even when my shaft is softened, my body continued to ache for you.”

She stretched sensually against him, her body rubbing enticingly against his. "We shall have to harden your shaft again," she responded, her heart near bursting at his words of love.

Knowing that it was more than possible for her to accomplish such, he continued his trail of kisses, allowing their bodies to explore and memorize one another. Hearing a slight movement from the cradle nearby, he stopped momentarily. Hearing nothing more, he smiled at Claudia wickedly and continued his seduction.

Her eyes met his and she couldn't keep her words to herself, her breasts ached mercilessly, nipples points of fire that needed easing. "Suckle me?"

Achilles’ eyes became heated torches as his head bent, his mouth quickly, desperately clamping onto the stiffened peak, his tongue rolling and dancing along the nipple, only to be replaced by the deepest of suctions as his lips created a vacuumed seal over the sensitive flesh. After thoroughly sating the one, he moved his mouth to the other, allowing his stubbled cheek to run across the sensitive nipple first. “Oh, my love … what shall I do,” he almost mumbled, his tongue wetting the jutting peak quickly, as he blew onto the nipple to heighten her pleasure. “What shall I do when we have a babe of our own and these treasures are for him alone?”

"They will never be only for a child, my love. Will you not be eager to taste my milk, dropping sweet and full onto your tongue?" She gasped, her fingers tangling in the golden locks of his hair. Smooth round hips began to move of their own accord, seeking fulfillment for that most intimate of clefts.

“Woman of Troy allow such,” he asked in awe as his mouth moved to cover the breast so in need of his attention. Suckling, nipping, enjoying the full, ripe breast much more than he should, he felt his manhood again harden, creating a cradle of her fleshy, feminine lips as he became stiffer … and heavier to her moist heat.

"Yes. Husbands enjoy their woman's milk as much as the babe. It is common, said to stir the blood like nothing more can," she told him in breathless pants, her lower lips rubbing swiftly along the velvety skin of his shaft, lubricating it.

Her words excited him beyond, his mouth loosening long enough to utter a single word … “More!” Returning his mouth to its mission, his fingers moved between them, moving his throbbing organ as his remaining hand instantly found her woman’s entrance and opened it wider. Easing the tip of his shaft inside, he felt the rush of hardening flesh as he immediately became ready to thrust himself into paradise.

She pushed at his chest, wanting something a bit different in their mating, wanting to explore the ways their bodies could come together. "Take me as a ram takes a ewe in rutting, Achilles."

He rose then and looked into her eyes as if seeking confirmation. It was then, looking into her eyes, that he realized … what if their plan failed? What if her vision of the future had been wrong? What if this was the last night they would spend together? It was all too incomprehensible and he kissed her with a ravaging passion … a passion that would surly extract his thoughts and bury them deeply inside her mind. With a hard and fast roll, he flipped her to her stomach, his hand running pointedly, sensually along the line of her spine and stopping at the delicious dimpled flesh just above her glorious buttocks.

She eased to her hands then, drawing her knees below her and presenting her gloriously displayed femininity for his entrance. "I have lain in this bed, Achilles, imagining such a thing as this, you entering me wildly as I seek to pull you deeper and deeper inside."

Easing himself into the perfect position, he allowed his hands first to slide along her rounded flesh before slipping to stroke and ready the feminine flesh he so desired to take. “I fear you will be sore on the morrow,” he said softly, erotically as his fingers found her point of passion. Grasping the base of his shaft, he moved to guide his body into hers, his sword thick and long and in need of being sheathed.

"Then I will be sore, my love, there is no help for it. I am strong and can take such treatment; there will be no damage beyond the morrow." She tried to sooth his worry, his concern, as she withered against his touch. "Please, Achilles, I can wait no longer."

“You will wait as long as necessary,” he said as his hands firmly grasped her hips, his own hips easing forward. “I swear you will find it worth the wait.” All at once, he thrust hard into her, a cry of ecstasy sitting at the tip of his tongue as he felt her body convulse onto his.

She was mindless with the wild convulsing inside her, the blissful pleasure radiating down into the channel that Achilles now invaded. She clamped tight around him, hugging and releasing over and over, his name a soft cry upon her lips.

Resting inside her contraction canal for but a moment, the soldier took battle, pumping and thrusting inside her until his body seemed an extension of hers. He began to mumble erotic words with each thrust, each pound into her body creating an erotic link between the two that would never be destroyed. And then, as suddenly as the Trojan War had begun, he erupted inside her, his body tense and strained with the need to drain completely into her all of his life giving force.

She whimpered and moaned quietly as she felt the thick warm fluid filling her, leaking out to coat her lips, sealing them together in their lovemaking. "There are so many ways to pleasure one another will be ever know them all?" She sighed as she sank down on the bed, pivoting on his still hard shaft so that she faced him again.

His lips moved to trail loving, yet heated kisses along her back as his body began its slow cool. “Never,” he whispered. “For we shall create a myriad of techniques ourselves, my love.” He pressed his cheek to her shoulders, hoping he would live long enough to do just that.

Turning against him she laid her lips gently against his. "I love you, Achilles. Upon the morrow we will meet in a new world with peace between out lands."

He smiled tenderly, his hand moving to stroke her cheek. “For the sake of our unborn children, Claudia, I pray that you are right.” With a gentle kiss, he pulled her to nestle her back against his chest, wrapping her in the love and protection of his arms.