A Soft and Tender Bite

Semi-darkness reigned in the bedroom, thick with the scent of flowers. Poseidon laid Circe down on the bed and hovered over her, kissing her carefully. She timidly wrapped her arms around the god’s neck, still unused to the idea that she, too, was allowed to move. To embrace. To take the lead. Before, when they stole away together, it was always in another room or at his place. Now Circe had let him into her own bedchamber — and was looking forward to a pleasant night. But her plans were shattered by a loud, indignant "Meow!" Poseidon flinched, pulled away from Circe’s lips with a low growl, and rubbed his leg. "What was that?" he demanded, glaring at the enormous cat. She was lashing her tail, crouched on her hind legs, clearly ready to attack the god again. "That’s Goldie. She’s just not used to you." Circe knew the cat was actually furious that her spot on the bed had been taken, but decided not to say so — Poseidon already thought she spoiled her daughters and her animals far too much. The god heaved a heavy sigh and grabbed Goldie by the scruff as if she were a kitten, intending to evict her from the bedroom. The cat, feeling herself a victim of tyranny, dug in all four paws, biting and scratching furiously. "Goldie, calm down." Circe sprang from the bed in alarm, hoping to help, to soothe her pet — but it was too late. Poseidon managed to carry Goldie to the door, shove her into the corridor, and bolt the latch. "I’m sorry!" Circe turned her guilty gaze to the god. "Please don’t be angry with her. She doesn’t know you, and she’s afraid you’ll hurt me. Does it hurt? I have a healing salve." Poseidon frowned. The marks of teeth were clearly visible on his palm, but there was no blood. "It’s fine. It’ll heal. But this little beauty is not sleeping with us anymore," he concluded darkly, then spread his arms in invitation to finish what they’d started. Circe ignored the gesture and walked over to the carved chest in the corner of the room where she kept her stock of medicines. "Let me find that potion after all," she said, shyly tossing her hair from her breast to her back. "I feel awful. And… she’ll get used to it, she won’t bite, I promise. Tonight, of course, she can stay out." Circe found the right ointment and settled beside Poseidon on the bed, taking his broad, cool palm in hers to treat it carefully. The god didn’t object. He only watched her with a gaze both hungry and fascinated — a look that frightened her and stirred long-buried, forgotten feelings. With Poseidon, everything was easy, good, pleasant. He joked, laughed, was careful and tender. So Circe had broken her rule about not letting men into her life. The god had become familiar, almost dear — his voice, now whispering like a gentle surf, now roaring like a storm, sounded to her like music. And she had no doubt: Goldie would get used to him too. After all, cats love fish, and Poseidon could certainly offer fish. "Give me your leg too." Circe stood and made him rise so she could reach better, then gave a small snort at the sight of a slight redness, generously applying the healing potion. "Well, well. You once told me that bites could be pleasant," she recalled his words: I don’t bite unless asked. Some people like it. Poseidon smiled slyly. "They can. But not that kind." He reached for her, kissed her neck, and gave it a gentle nip. Circe shuddered in surprise, feeling pleasant goosebumps scatter across her skin. "You also said you don’t bite without permission. Because I could bite too, you know," she warned. His broad, rough tongue ran tenderly over the spot. Poseidon pulled back from her neck and looked into her eyes. "You do understand I never meant to hurt you, right? Come on, you try." Circe looked at him in surprise, but curiosity won. She touched her lips to his neck, drew in the cool, salty skin, barely grazing it with her teeth. "It feels strange — biting you," she admitted, licking her lips. "Well, maybe it’s just not your thing," Poseidon said with a smile, wrapping his arms around her. "Some people like it. Can I try again?" "Bite me?" Fear and curiosity warred inside Circe, but she trusted Poseidon. "Only a little. I don’t like pain. And I don’t like causing it, either." She tilted her head back, baring her neck. Poseidon drew her closer, pressed his lips to her skin, long and thoughtful. He let go, kissed another spot, sucked the skin, barely catching it with his teeth. Then kissed it again. Circe’s breath hitched; a pleasant tremor ran through her body, and her head fell back further, opening more space for these unfamiliar caresses. "Well?" Poseidon whispered into her ear, giving her earlobe a small nip. "Good," Circe breathed with pleasure. "I thought your teeth would be sharper." "They are sharp." Poseidon smiled and returned to nuzzling her neck. "I just don’t want to hurt you, so I’m careful. Do you want to feel how sharp they are, hmm?" He drew her skin between his lips, caressing with his tongue and teasing with the tips of his fangs. Circe shuddered with a flash of fear — but her arousal only grew stronger. Neck caresses had always driven her wild. "You’ll puncture some artery or something. Is it dangerous?" she asked uncertainly, though she made no move to escape. "Oh, come now. How could I ever hurt you?" Poseidon said gently, releasing her skin — there would surely be a bruise — and returning to soft kisses. "Just a small hint of something more, to make it feel sharper. So… will you take the risk?" He smirked with satisfaction and latched onto her skin again. These caresses resonated inside her more intensely than usual; her thighs tightened with tension, and Circe shifted in Poseidon’s strong arms, feeling warmth and tenderness rise within her like a wave. She was afraid, but far more intrigued. "All right. Let’s try a little sharper — since you’ll be careful." Poseidon began stroking her back and sides, clearly sensing her arousal. "My curious girl," he whispered solicitously, his hands drifting meaningfully down to her hips. "Don’t worry. I would never harm you." "I trust you." Circe pressed closer, moaning softly at his touch, rubbing her whole body against him, already knowing how much he loved her reactions. His kisses grew hotter, hungrier, making her writhe in his arms. At one moment, Poseidon pressed his lips harder to her neck, and Circe felt the tips of his sharp teeth pierce her skin ever so lightly. She couldn’t help but cry out, trembling — it was sharp. The god immediately began lapping at the tiny wound with broad strokes of his tongue. "And how is it? T-tasty?" Circe asked, then blushed at her own suggestion. Poseidon, it seemed, knew no embarrassment. He grinned broadly and licked his lips predatorily, as if savoring her blood. "Delicious. Very!" He kissed the bite tenderly. "And you? If you don’t like it, we won’t do it again." He pressed against her with his hard length and rubbed suggestively — and Circe responded to his motion, having no objection to continuing. But his question made her think. "It feels a little strange, but almost not painful. More unusual and interesting," she admitted. "What does it taste like?" Ashamed of her own boldness, she pressed her lips to his in a deep, passionate kiss, tasting her own blood on her tongue — iron and bitter herbs. "In your blood I taste the sea and the sun. And the sweetness of desire," Poseidon purred, kissing her back hotly. Circe pulled at the chiton on his shoulders; its ties came undone by themselves, obeying the god’s will. It filled her with delight: how wonderful that he didn’t object to her initiative. "Can… can I have a little of your blood, too? Later… for research?" she asked playfully, giving his lip a small bite. Poseidon frowned slightly. "Only a little," he said, a sly smile crossing his face. "On condition that you let me bite." Circe hadn’t even hoped he would agree. She closed her eyes in satisfaction, burying her hand in his thick, dark hair. "Just a little, and with a thin needle — I promise. Then you can bite… but also just a little, and gently." "I’ll hold you to that," Poseidon said, baring his shark-sharp teeth in a grin, his hands already roaming over Circe’s body, slipping under her chiton. "And I promise to use it at the most unexpected moment." She shot him an indignant look, and he laughed softly, kissing her nose. "And very tenderly." A new kiss — or was it a bite? — joined their lips, and Circe forgot for a while about all the potions and research in the world. In all the world, only two remained: Circe and Poseidon. And their new pleasure, discovered entirely by accident, thanks to a cat.