“Is her body tenderer? Is she overly grumpy?”
“Yes. Do you think it could be a virus? You would think with them being immortal, they couldn’t get sick.” Rhys didn’t think Cara was the only one being moody.
“I think I may know the problem. Deena suffered from the same illness a couple of times.”
“Really? What do you think it is?”
Arriving at the table, Rhys loaded a plate full of eggs and bacon then finished it off with a heaping helping of biscuits and gravy. The men were immortal, but their stomachs refused to give up the ritual of a hearty breakfast. No longer having to worry about the ramifications of such gluttony on their human bodies, they enjoyed the heavy meals prepared for them.
Rhys handed Jericho the huge plate of food. “I think you should take her breakfast in bed. If she eats it, she’ll be in a better mood. If not and she instead runs for the bathroom, then congratulations.” Rhys grinned at Jericho’s uncomprehending expression.
“Congratulations?”
Rhys sat, filling a plate for himself.
“On becoming a father.” He waited for his words to sink in.
“You think she’s pregnant?” Jericho made the statement, dumbfounded. “She can’t be pregnant. I had a vasectomy.”
“You mean the human body that is no longer on Earth was unable to produce children. I’m willing to bet that a demi-God, which is what you are, would have no problem fathering children though. From what I remember of my History lessons at University, the Gods are very prolific.”
Jericho’s eyes narrowed. Rhys felt sorry for Cara. From the look on Jericho’s face, he was about to give his fiancée hell.
“You would think that Cara would inform me of that little detail.”
“Maybe she didn’t know. That could be why she hasn’t told you. She could be unsure of your reaction.” Rhys began to feel nervous for the woman. He liked Cara and enjoyed watching the closeness the couple shared.
Jericho turned without another word, holding the plate as he precariously left the room.
“That wasn’t very nice.” Rhys jumped at Fate’s voice behind him.
Fate gracefully took a seat at the table. “She was going to tell him, Cara was just building up her courage. It is so difficult when others interfere.” Fate stared him straight in the eyes, letting him see her displeasure.
Rhys sat quietly, watching as she took a piece of bacon and with her teeth tore it in half. Rhys’s balls curled into themselves for protection.
Fate smiled as she poured herself a glass of juice. “It was quite fortuitous that you walked by his door at that time and he confided in you. Of course, with two children yourself, you easily recognized the symptoms.”
Rhys began to feel like he had done exactly as she had wanted, and he didn’t appreciate the feeling.
“I take it you are going to be a grandmother?” he said, losing his appetite.
“Yes, I am ecstatic. This one will be the first of many.” When a faraway look entered her eyes, Rhys had an uncomfortable feeling she was counting her future progeny.
He decided to be upfront about his relationship with her daughter. “Broni and I—”
Fate cut him off. “There is no Broni and you. You are merely using my daughter to satiate your physical needs. Broni knows this and accepts it. I, however, do not.”
Rhys did not know what to say at Fate’s censure because he felt anything he said would damn him further in her eyes.
“I have agreed to accept Broni’s decision, for now.” Fate took a drink of her coffee.
“For now?” Rhys questioned, hoping the woman didn’t think he would change his mind.
“Until I don’t, and you will know when that happens.”
Changing the subject, she asked how his visits to the various battlefields had been progressing. He found himself drawn into a long conversation about the outcomes of several battles, even arguing several tactics the commanders had used without success.
Rhys was surprised to discover he liked Fate. She was extremely intelligent and had a grasp on events that rivaled the great minds of known time. She was also easy to talk to, so it was disappointing when she rose, stating she had work to do before excusing herself.
Rhys worked out alone, missing Jericho’s company and deciding to shorten his workout time to find Broni. He found he was actually looking forward to beginning their day.
Chapter 17
It was the bloodiest battle they had been sent to; the casualties were massive. While Broni watched Rhys’s reaction to the bloodbath taking place before them, she was cringing inwardly. As a warrior was slaughtered before her in a gruesome manner, unable to bear the sight, she turned away.
However, Rhys observed the battle differently, analyzing it from both sides, weighing the pros and cons of the strategies the two opposing antagonists were using. Broni smiled at his clenching hands, unconsciously wanting to join in the fight. She was glad he couldn’t; there wasn’t going to be a survivor from this particular battle.
“They’re Vikings.”
“They are. No one survives this battle.” Broni pointed to a large man lying nearby. “He is their leader. His son will grow to be famous, becoming one of their best warriors. A leader known through time. He almost conquered the world.” A proud smile played on Broni’s lips. “If he had not died, I think he would have.”
The battle ended, and as Broni had stated, no one was left standing. Rhys felt a deep sadness at the men lying before him. After Broni gripped his hand, returning him to his room, she moved away from him, never touching him longer than it took to move from one place to another. It was dark outside and the room was softly lit with candlelight.
“I need a shower, will you join me?”
Broni looked at him in surprise. Rhys never wanted intimacy between them out of the bed, so hesitantly, she agreed.
They disrobed before going to the bathroom, which was the epitome of decadence. The shower was made of marble and the water rained down from the ceiling like a small waterfall. Broni took the soap and lathered herself, unsure of what to do, having never showered with a man before. Rhys took her hand with the soap, moving it where he wanted. Her hands were guided over his large chest then downward toward his hips. The soap fell to the floor of the shower as he slid her hand over his slick flesh toward his protruding cock. He braced his arm on the wall abov
e her head at her gentle touch.
“Harder.”
Broni took his slippery cock in her hand, beginning a rhythmic stroking that had him thrusting his hips forward, giving him the friction he needed. After a while, Broni removed her hands, letting the falling water remove the soap. When he was clean, she dropped to her knees, taking him deep in her mouth. Her tongue curled underneath the broad head, sucking strongly as he began a fierce rhythm that took him to the back of her throat.
Broni gripped his balls in her hand, applying a delicate pressure, and when she swallowed on the head of his cock buried in her throat, he came. Broni delicately used her tongue to tease him as he slid from her warm mouth. Her body was on fire. Sucking on his cock had aroused her; she’d enjoyed it as much as he had.
Rhys dried them off before taking her arm and leading her to his bed, but before she could climb onto the bed, he stopped her. He put a hand on her back and pushed her downward until she lay bent over the bed with her feet barely touching the floor. Broni felt Rhys’s thigh part her legs, his cock sliding deep within her wet pussy. She was ready for him, but it was still tight with no foreplay. A small scream escaped her at his hard entry.
Not giving her time to recover, he began to thrust deep within her. Broni felt the strength of his thrusts and began to quiver with an impending orgasm. Rhys thrust faster, driving them both toward a climax.
After Rhys’s cock slid from her, she turned to leave, yet his hands circled her waist, lifting her onto the bed.
“My hair will get the pillow wet.”
“It will dry.”
Rhys’s hands roamed her still water slickened flesh. Taking a nipple between his lips, he was just beginning to play with it when Broni stiffened with a gasp.
“Get dressed.”
She was being called and was expected to obey immediately. Hurriedly, they dressed in silence. When their shoes were on, Broni grasped Rhys’s hand. The call was becoming more urgent. She was usually called by Fate, but this summons was from Mother herself.