Queen of His Heart by Marie Medina Read Free Book Online Page B

by a stranger, and Dionysus looked fabulous as he powered into the girl.
    “A reward, since Zeus sees you as the temptress,” Iris said with a sigh. “His words.”
    Hera rolled her eyes. “Hmph. More like he and Dionysus have had a few threesomes themselves.”
    This time, Hera saw the girl come, and she clenched her fists as she watched. Dionysus aroused Hera all over again as he spilled into the girl and smacked her on the ass. Every muscle on his perfect body flexed and glistened with sweat. She scowled once again at the pleasure on the girl’s face.
    “That orgasm was mine.” Hera smoothed her hair and adjusted her mask. “Are other gods the only ones off limits? Or will he stop me from finding pleasure with mortals as well?”
    Iris glanced to the ceiling, a look of concentration on her face, and Hera knew she was listening to Zeus. After a moment, she said, “You may dally with any mortal you wish, he says.”
    Hera raised one eyebrow. “But will he interrupt again?”
    Iris paused. “He says he won’t deny you again tonight. He simply didn’t wish to see Dionysus spill into you.” She drew closer and sat by Hera. “He looked quite angry when he sent me. I’ve heard Dionysus is an amazing lover.”
    “He is. I’ve been with him many times. Zeus never objected before.” She crossed her arms. “These moods of his, I swear.”
    Iris folded her hands in her lap. “Do you wish to send a message back?”
    Hera laughed without humor. “I’m sure he’s listening.”
    “Yes, I’d say he is.” Iris glanced back to the two-way mirror. “Oh my.”
    Hera turned to look as well. Whether the two young men had been interested in each other before or not, they seemed to be now. The short-haired man lay across the bed being vigorously fucked by the other blond. Dionysus stood behind the long-haired man, gripping his hips and taking him the same way. The man cried out in pleasure as his body moved between being buried in one man and being impaled by another. The girl reclined on the bed, fingering herself, but she soon came—at Dionysus’ bidding—and straddled the face of the man lying down.
    Hera sighed and stood up. “I think I’ll be leaving now.”
    Iris stood and opened the door for her. “There’s not really anything wrong with a devoted husband.”
    Hera smiled. “Then go home to yours. I’ll make sure Zeus doesn’t bother you anymore tonight.”
    Iris smiled and bowed before disappearing in a cascade of sparkles that reflected every color in the rainbow. Hera walked down the hall, considering each of the doors. Men and women filled each room, loving each other in various combinations. She raised both eyebrows this time. The party had proved to be more decadent than she had at first thought. She took a quick peek into each room, but she chose not to join any of them. She kept going until she reached a balcony, and she stepped out into the balmy air.
    Paris wasn’t far away. The city sparkled before her, and it looked quiet and peaceful, even though by this time of night there were likely many parties similar to this one going on. The streets of the more bohemian districts probably bustled with life and laughter.
    “Your costume is lovely, mademoiselle,” a quiet voice behind her said.
    Hera turned and saw a dark-haired young man sitting in the corner of the balcony. He likewise wore a toga along with a laurel wreath crowning his dark curls and a shining silver mask over his eyes, which looked dull and sad.
    “Thank you. I’m meant to be Hera, the queen of the gods.” She leaned on the railing. “And who are you?”
    “You may laugh.”
    She smiled to encourage him, sensing his shyness. “I won’t. Tell me.”
    “Herodotus, the man who chronicled the Persian wars.”
    “Yes, I know who he is.”
    That made the young man’s face brighten a bit. “I teach history for an affluent family.”
    “I see. And what is a history teacher doing here?”
    “Chasing a young lady who doesn’t