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Rage Regret & Redemption	By : Liliana Category: S through Z > Troy Views: 10162 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Troy, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Please note that the disclaimer, pairing and warnings for this story are given at the begining of the first chapter.
CHAPTER THREE:
The willing touch of the young prince's lips against his own, sent Achilles' thoughts reeling.
{ He would do this?... After the pain and shame I have reaped upon him?... He offers his body to me?. }
Like most other warriors, Achilles had sated his pleasure with captives, though unlike other Greeks, he had never brutalized those taken as spoils of war. Yet always he had known that the bodies beneath him, if given a choice, would not have yielded to him, no matter how much care he took with their flesh.
But then, his beloved cousin had fallen and for the first time, Achilles had delivered cruelty and humilliation to one he held under his power.
The one who now sought his mouth.
The mighty Greek felt himself yield to that tremulous overture, his lips parting as he began to return the tender kiss. Once more, his hand came to rest on the dark curls, cupping the back of the Trojan's head as he took control, deepening the play between them. He heard Paris utter a soft moan and he answered it with one of his own, his other hand coming around to wrap around the prince's waist, drawing their bodies close. The contact sparked a hot fire that re-kindled the desire in Achilles' cock, which had started to soften when he made the decision to let the other go.
{ So good... Gods!, he feels...so good. }
Paris felt his body being pressed against the sculpted form of Achilles and his own senses, already swooning from the kiss, became flooded by a surge of passion so strong that it's force surprised the young Trojan.
Always, he had been the seducer. His face and figure possessed of such beauty, that maidens and matrons alike had often been reduced to begging for his touch. And he had bestowed it, like a bee in the summer season, going from flower to flower and taking his fill of nectar from each.
But then he had accompanied his brother on a diplomatic mission of peace to the harsh land of Sparta and there, he had found the most breathtaking flower of all.
Helen.
Her beauty had pierced his heart and from the moment of their very first meeting, he had desired no other. When he found that she returned his feelings, Paris had been certain that at last, he had found love. A love so encompassing, that he had thrown all consideration by the wayside to bring her back to Troy with him, thus also bringing war to his people's very doorstep.
And now, he found himself in the arms of his enemy, trembling with the overpowering need to...
Surrender.
Gods!... Was this what had made all those females yield to him?. Was this what had glazed their eyes with insensate bliss, as he braced himself above them?... This desperate need that Paris now felt to spread his own legs and let Achilles do what he willed?.
The mere thought of it caused another wave of desire to come crashing into him and Paris moaned again, his arms coming round to entwine behind the Greek's neck. He tried to press his body even closer, but their positions and the chair Achilles was seated in, prevented it. Paris broke the kiss with a gasp, his swollen lips exhaling a ragged breath, while his eyes showed the full extent of his need to the other.
" Please....please..." He begged.
The words were as a spear, hitting Achilles' very core in a way that no other weapon had ever even come close to doing. He looked into those liquid brown eyes, shining with such desire and vulnerability, and the full import of what this Trojan prince was pleading for him to take hit like a hammer blow at the end of that spear, sealing his fate.
Achilles rose from the chair and half-carried Paris to the large bed. There, he eased the prince down onto his back and then stood for a moment, drinking in the sight of the smooth, young body laying before him in wanton splendor. Slowly, deliberately, Achilles began to remove his own garments until he, too, was exposed fully to the other's sight.
Paris' eyes dilated as he took in the Greek's magnificent physique. Chiseled and muscular in a way that he, Paris, was not, Achilles exuded power and with his golden hair and sky-blue eyes, he looked nothing less than a God incarnate; Perhaps even the son of Apollo himself. The young Trojan felt yet another powerful stab of desire constrict within his gut and his cock, slim and straight, jolted in response.
The involuntary gesture brought a smile to Achilles' lips. Was there a sight more compelling than that of one awaiting to be taken for the very first time?. The trembling of the body, the shy desire in the eyes, the blush coloring smooth cheeks. It was the sweetest nectar, this...
And the closest a mortal could ever come to tasting the Ambrosia of the Gods.
Every breath was leaving Paris in shallow pants, as he watched the Greek collect a stand holding a small bowl of some liquid, before bringing it to a rest beside the bed.
" Spread your legs, Paris." Achilles said, locking his gaze on the prince.
The voice was low and sensual and Paris moved his legs apart with a hitched sigh. Achilles climbed onto the bed, settling on his knees between them, as proud and strong as the shaft that jutted from his center. Then, like a feline, he moved forward until his arms were braced besides the prince's head, though he was careful to not lower his body in contact, just yet.
Paris looked up to sky-blue eyes that were alive with restrained desire and he had to fight the urge to thrust his hips up into the space of air between their bodies, a space that was like an invisible blanket of charged sexuality.
Achilles lowered his lips and placed a soft kiss upon Paris' brow, then repeated the motion on the side of one temple, before moving to trace the ear with the tip of his tongue. Paris let out a moan at the touch, arching his head back and Achilles took advantage of it, bitting gently into the offered neck. Paris' entire body rippled and his breath came out as a sob. The Greek warrior brought his head back up, so that their faces were almost touching and the prince could not stop the next words from leaving his mouth.
" Achilles... need...I need..." He whimpered.
" I know.." Was the soft reply.
Then Achilles pressed their lips toguether, even as his body lowered to do the same.
The feel of their shafts touching for the first time was like a lighting bolt, thrown from the very hand of Zeus, making Paris groan raggedly into Achilles' mouth, as his whole body arched into the contact. Achilles, too, felt the current coursing between them and his kiss deepened to become a passionate demand. When at last he broke it, it was to move his lips in a downward path upon the smooth plains of the Trojan's heaving chest. When he reached one hardened nipple, there like a dollop of dark honey, Achilles paused to twirl his tongue around it in flickering cadence. Paris entangled his fingers in the golden hair.
" Aaaah..." He cried. " Aaaah..."
The Greek warrior could not help but to grin in satisfaction at hearing the prince's cries of pleasure. He lightly pinched Paris' other nipple as he slowly continued his trek down, kissing and licking at every bit of the trembling body beneath him, as if he was relishing a feast.
And he was...
At last, he came to the apex of the young Trojan's parted legs and there, glistening in the soft light cast by the fire, he saw pearly drops leaking from the tip of an achingly-hard cock. His head dipped to taste of them and he felt Paris' fingers tighten almost painfully in his hair.
" Yes!...yes... Oh, Yes!..."
Achilles responded by lazily swiping his tongue from the root of the shaft, to the very top, before swallowing the whole between his parted lips.
" Gods!!..."
Paris arched clear off the bed, throwing his head back as his eyes closed in ecstasy. He nearly came undone then, but for the way Achilles' hand tightened around the base of his member. Slowly, deeply, Achilles sucked him. Up and down, over and over, never altering the steady pace, until the prince was reduced to insensate tears. Only then, did the Greek warrior cease his sensual torture, releasing the nearly purpled shaft from the heated prison of his mouth, yet keeping his hold upon the root of it.
The young Trojan's hands, which had fallen to his sides, were clutching spasmodically at the bedcovers and Achilles reached out to one of them, gently caressing his fingers across the whitened knuckles. Paris' breath was hitched by shuddering sobs, and he felt as if he could not get enough air, but then a voice washed over him like a soothing balm.
" Shhh...beautiful one. Let yourself step back from the precipice. Easy now...easy..."
The gentle command proved effective and paris felt himself gain some measure of control. His eyes, glazed with pleasure and moistened by tears, looked at the Greek warrior with such longing that Achilles found himself in a struggle to retain his self-control.
A moment later, Achilles let his eyes leave the prone body of the prince of Troy and fixed their attention upon the stand he had ealier placed by the bed, or more specifically, upon the contents of the ceramic bowl atop it. Paris was now ready for the next step.
And so, Achilles dipped his fingers in the fragrant oil...
TBC...
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Rage Regret & Redemption