Page 54 of Elysium

“NOT SO FAST.” She pushed against his shoulders, slipping out of his grasp. She strode past him, towards their chambers. “If you think you can just do whatever you want, wherever you want, you’re sorely mistaken, king.”

She looked over her shoulder to see Odysseus stalking after her. His chest was heaving with exertion, tunic still askew. “Stop, wife.” His voice was thick, dangerous.

“No, husband.” She tossed back at him, climbing the stairs. “I don’t think I will.” She could feel him behind her, feel the heat that radiated off of his body. He reached out, trying to grab her around the waist.

She dodged his hand.

“Now, Odysseus, think for a moment. Are you trying to pull us both down the stairs?”

“If it gets my hands on you, I would throw myself off the top of a cliff. If it gets my lips on yours, woman, I would careen into the ocean off of the tallest ship's mast.”

Penelope kept just out of his reach. He might have been lithe enough to avoid arrows and swords, but he was still a hulking mass of a man - easy for her to skirt around.

“You’re slowing down, old king.” She muttered as she turned, slamming their chamber door in his face.

Grinning to herself, she hurried, sitting on the edge of their bed. Penelope crossed her legs, delicately laid her hands on her lap, and waited for him to open the door.

The sight that laid beyond the door sent a rush of heat to her core. His hair was wild, eyes alight with desire, maybe even a little bit of rage. And as he shut the door behind him, as he prowled around their bedroom, she felt nothing but yearning.

And perhaps the need for some retribution.

Odysseus stood just a breath away now, pinching her chin tight between his fingers. When he drew her eyes to meet his, she bit her lip, tamping down the shudder that wracked her body. “You dare chide your husband? Old, my queen?” He asked, dropping his lips to hers.

She pulled back, jerking her head out of his grip. “The truth, dear king, can hurt.” She mused, straightening a strap on his tunic.

“You could have had your pick of the young men that came to my home, wife.” His mouth was hovering over her pulse point. She wondered if he could feel the way he was making her heart race. “And yet… you still waited for your old husband.”

His mouth connected with the skin of her neck, and she almost bent to his whims right there. Penelope inhaled sharply, doing her best to keep the moan she felt building inside.

“They begged for me, Odysseus.” Her voice was breathless, lost in the sound of her husband’s heavy breathing. “Begged to touch me, to be near me.”

“Is that what you want, wife?” He growled, his lips against her ear. “Do you want me to beg?” He slipped from her, running his hands down her curves as he knelt on the ground before her.

He began bunching her dress up in his hands, planting kisses across the tops of her thigh. “If you wanted me on my knees, woman, you just had to ask.” He grinned, nipping at her gently.

Her fingers found his tangled locks, tugging him back to meet her eyes. Using her other hand, she traced the hard line of his jaw, running the pad of her thumb across his lips.

“No, Odysseus,” Penelope said finally, drawing her foot up and placing the sole of her sandal against his chest, pushing.

He teetered back, making space for her to stretch out her leg.

“I don’t just want you to beg.” His grin stayed wicked as he unlaced the shoe, pressing his lips to her ankle, her calf, anywhere he could reach.

“You said you’d throw yourself off of a cliff for me, king.

Show me, Odysseus. Show me how deep the thread of your desire runs. ”

His breathing faltered, hands trembling against her ankle. He drew up her other foot, removing her other sandal. “Tell me,” his voice was not as strong as it was moments before. His eyes pleading. “There is nothing I would not do for you, Penelope.”

“You would not sit quietly during your son’s forum this morning, husband.” She kept her words clipped, trying to stay aloof.

“How could I?” His words turned sincere, quiet. “I have so little time left with you, Penelope. You captivate me. The minute you’re in my sights, my mind and body just react to you.” His hand brushed up her calf, eyes looking down as he knelt before her.

“Such devotion Odysseus,” she crooked her finger, beckoning him to come close. He shifted, pressing down on one knee to stand. “Ah, my king…” She leaned forward, pursing her lips as she shook her head. “I didn’t say you could stand.”

She watched a flicker of confusion, then maybe a hint of anger flick on his face. “You think you’re the only woman that could make me beg, wife?” His words sliced through the air, hanging between them. Penelope saw right through him. He wanted control, he wanted the power back in his hands.

“Yes, Odysseus, I am.” Delight licked through her, followed by desire as his hands hit the ground.

She shifted away from his reach, settling herself on the chaise near the balcony.

“You said you would crawl to me, husband.” Penelope reached up, unknotting her hair and letting the curls fall over her shoulder. “Here’s your opportunity.”

The sound of heavy breathing filled the space between them.

She couldn’t tell where his breathing ended, and hers began.

He moved closer to her, cloudy eyes never leaving hers.

The desire leaked from every pore of his body as he drew closer.

“My king,” she whispered, ghosting her fingers along his cheek.

She sank to her knees in front of him, close but not touching. “Help me from this dress?”

She gathered her hair up in her hand, turning so that he could reach the ties on her shoulders. “Thank you,” Odysseus breathed, dragging his fingertips along her arm. Taking his time, he untied one strap. He paused, moving to press his lips to her skin.

“I didn’t say you could kiss me yet,” Penelope scolded him, frowning as he pulled back.

Penelope let her fingers linger on his jaw a moment longer, savoring the tension in the air, before leaning in just a fraction of an inch.

His breath hitched, chest rising and falling like a man amid battle.

His eyes were darker now, a storm brewing behind them, and it thrilled her to see him like this… so completely undone by her.

"Is this what you want, husband?" she whispered, just close enough for him to feel the heat of her breath against his lips, but not quite enough to touch. Her voice was slow, deliberate… each word punctuated by the intensity between them.

He groaned, his fingers twitching by his sides, as though fighting the urge to grab her, to pull her into him and claim what he wanted.

Penelope could see it in the way his body flexed, the tension coiling tighter in his muscles.

But she held him there, just out of reach, watching his struggle, savoring it.

"You will beg," she said, a slight smile curving on her lips. "Just not yet."

Penelope slid her hand down the front of his tunic, pushing it aside slowly, trailing her fingers over the muscle of his chest, feeling the firm heat of him. He sucked in a breath at the touch, eyes flickering down to her fingers as if mesmerized.

Her smile widened as she unknotted the tie that held his tunic together. She was in complete control now.

"Stand up," she ordered, her voice low and commanding.

Odysseus hesitated for a beat… just a beat, but he obeyed, standing up and giving her the space she wanted. His eyes were glued to her, unwavering.

Penelope stood, taking in the sight of him, standing there, desperate, waiting for her. And she let the moment stretch, savoring the absolute silence between them.

"Sit," she commanded, her voice cutting through the stillness.

Without another word, Odysseus obeyed, his body moving with a fluid grace to sink down onto the bed. His breathing was heavier now, his desire painfully evident.

She moved slowly, straddling him, the tension in her movements unmistakable. The weight of the moment pressed in on them, every inch a test, every breath a challenge. She leaned forward, just enough to brush her lips against his… just enough to make him burn, but never enough to satisfy him.

"You’ll have to do better than that," she teased, her voice breathless with mock sweetness.

Odysseus gritted his teeth, the desperation in his eyes almost palpable. He reached for her, but Penelope stopped him, her hand coming up to his chest, holding him back just enough to feel the power she still commanded.

“Tell me, husband,” she moved her mouth to his ear, nipping at the lobe gently. “Tell me what you’re going to do once I let you touch me.”

She felt his hips rock gently, heard him inhale sharply. “Can I-” His hands hovered over her hips, trembling with desire withheld. “Can I touch you?”

“No,” she pressed a kiss to his pulse, running her tongue along the length of his throat. “Answer my question, husband.”

Odysseus groaned, low and guttural, his head falling back as if he were barely holding himself together. “Anything,” he ground out, voice rough with restraint. “I’ll do anything.”

Penelope hummed, amused, dragging her nails lightly over his shoulders, pushing his tunic down his arms, watching his muscles jump beneath her touch. “That’s not an answer,” she murmured.

His fingers clenched into fists at his sides. “I’ll worship you,” he rasped, voice raw, head tilting back toward her. “I’ll kiss every inch of your skin until you can’t remember your own name.” His breath was shallow, desperate. “I’ll make you tremble, make you cry out, make you beg me -”

She pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him, and his whole body shook. “Beg you ?” she echoed, an amused lilt in her voice. “I don’t think so, my love.”

Odysseus let out a frustrated moan, his hands hovering by her thighs, aching for connection, but knowing better than to disobey. His restraint was breaking, cracking apart at the edges, and she could see it.

She could feel it.