His breath was ragged, his chest rising and falling with the weight of restraint. But he obeyed. He was on his back before her now, hands limp at his sides, waiting.
“Tell me,” she murmured, shifting her weight down onto one elbow. “Tell me how much you want me.”
His mouth parted on a sharp inhale, his whole body shuddering beneath the weight of her words.
“More than breath,” he rasped, eyes dark, wide. “More than my own life.”
Penelope felt her own breath hitch, but she would not let him see how his words struck her. Not yet. Instead, she let her nailsscrape lightly down his neck, watching the knot in his throat bob as he swallowed.
“More than the sea?” she teased, her voice a low hum.
A muscle in his jaw flexed.“More.”
She tilted her head, letting her fingers trail lower, just ghosting over his collarbone. “More than your kingdom?”
His eyes burned into hers, hands twitching at his sides. “I have no kingdom without you.”
The words sank deep into her chest, warmth curling low in her belly. This was not the man who had fought for Troy or outwitted monsters.
This was not Odysseus, King of Ithaca.
This was not Odysseus, hero of the Trojan War.
Not Odysseus, tricker of gods.
This was her Odysseus - as he truly was.
She cupped his chin, tilting his face further, forcing him to look at her. His pupils were blown wide, his lips parted, his body strung so tightly she thought he might unravel at the slightest touch.
“And what will you do,” she whispered, “to earn me?”
His hands shook.
“Anything.” The word tore from him like a prayer. “Everything.” His fingers dug into his own thighs, his voice wrecked, ruined. “Just tell me.”
Penelope let the silence stretch, watching him, savoring him. He had been gone for twenty years, and now he was here. And more than that… he washers.
She leaned in, her lips grazing his ear. “Beg for me, husband.”
A sharp inhale. A tremor in his shoulders.
And then…
“Please,” he choked out, voice hoarse, breaking.
It was not a command. It was not a demand. It was surrender.
And gods, it was beautiful.
She dragged her nails lightly, barely, over his scalp, threading through the curls at the nape of his neck.
He whimpered.
Gods. Her breath caught at the sound.
"Not enough," she murmured, her voice soft, indulgent. She pressed a kiss to his temple, feeling the heat of his skin beneath her lips. "Not yet."
A broken sound left him, something between a groan and a plea. His hands twitched at his sides, fists clenching and unclenching.
