Last Courtesan of Olympus by Amanda Meuwissen EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author: Amanda Meuwissen
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
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Ascension
I loved my work, my expertise, my calling, as any acolyte of Aphrodite
should, and licked up Dax’s long, smooth shaft with a flick at his
leaking tip. He exhaled, a sharp hitch in his breath, as his hips heaved a
plaintive lurch. I swallowed him deeper, feeling his head paint the back of
my throat with a bob like the sweep of an artist’s brush.
But I was the artist here.
“Aikos…” Dax breathed my name with a mix of plea and praise and
gripped the base of my golden curls, urging me to finish him.
Perhaps I would, but my own cock hung heavy between my thighs,
greedy for like attention. Our credo was to always, always give pleasure
first, but to bask in it once earned.
I had more than earned mine.
I sucked the heady elixir from Dax’s cock as I pulled my mouth from his
shaft. He smelled like lavender and other infusions from our cleansing.
Every luxury had been insisted upon in honor of this day, steam and mud
Ascension
baths and water to purify us, finished with a rubdown of oils to anoint us
like gods. The taste of the remnants tingled on my tongue.
From between Dax’s thighs, I raked a hand up his hips and stomach, all
hairless. Every bit of him was hairless, aside from his eyebrows and long,
lovely locks, like an immortal statue carved by Pygmalion. He was
beautiful. Of course, he was, to be an acolyte of Aphrodite like me. Tan skin
never overly exposed to Apollo’s light, hair the richest shades of auburn,
and eyes large pools of brown, almost black, like the depths of the river
Styx. But he wore his hair longer than mine to hide the asymmetry in his
jawline.
Few could be as lucky as me and be gifted with true perfection.
My curls were both golden and reddish, like tales of heroes and kings,
my skin gently tanned but still fair, and eyes the bright blue of water closest
to the coast. Rounded muscles gave way to clean lines of definition, and my
ass was so coveted that Zeus himself would have relished in holding these
mounds between his mighty palms.
Dax was almost as ravishing as me. If he were a true match, I might have
envied him, and we never would have become friends—the top two
acolytes of our year to be given to the goddess. That was why we were here,
in the training salon, where we first learned to give and receive pleasure. As
the most sought-after of this year’s ascension, we were permitted to
“prepare” as we pleased. The others were no doubt fussing over their dress
tunics and the display of inferior calves.
I could have gone forth to the altar of Aphrodite to accept my assignment
as courtesan covered in cow dung and still been chosen by the best. I would
be given to the high priest of the temple atop Acrocorinth. The gods would
not dare condemn me with less.
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