Thalia can't wait any longer

The hall still hummed with low conversation and the clink of cups when Thalia’s patience finally snapped. She had spent the entire meal pressed against Nereus’s side, thigh glued to thigh, fingers wandering higher beneath the table with every passing minute. When the last of the venison platters was carried away, she leaned in so her lips brushed his ear.

“Enough waiting,” she whispered, voice thick with want. “Come with me. Now.”

Before he could answer she stood, seized his wrist in a firm grip, and tugged him up from the bench. A few knowing smiles and quiet chuckles followed them as she led him through the torchlit hall and out into the cool night. Nereus let her pull him along; the heat radiating from her palm and the purposeful sway of her hips left little room for protest.

Her shack stood near the western edge of the square—small, thatched, its door already ajar with a single oil lamp burning inside. Thalia kicked the door shut behind them and turned on him in the same motion. She shoved him back against the cedar wall, mouth crashing into his, hands tearing at the belt of his tunic. The linen fell away; she pushed him toward the low pallet, shedding her own green shift in a single impatient yank.

Naked, she was all taut muscle and soft curves—breasts full and heavy, nipples already peaked, the dark triangle between her thighs glistening in the lamplight. She shoved him down onto the wool blankets and straddled him at once, knees bracketing his hips.

“No teasing tonight,” she growled, guiding his cock to her entrance. She was soaked; he slid in with one rough thrust, both of them groaning at the sudden, tight heat. Thalia set a punishing rhythm—hips slamming down, grinding hard, nails raking red lines across his chest. Nereus met her stroke for stroke, hands gripping her ass, fingers digging into flesh as he drove upward into her.

She rode him like she was claiming territory: fast, fierce, unyielding. Her breasts bounced with every impact; sweat slicked their skin where they met. “Harder,” she demanded, voice raw. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

He flipped them without warning, pinning her beneath him. Thalia laughed—wild, breathless—and wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back to pull him deeper. He pounded into her relentlessly, the wet slap of flesh echoing in the small space, her cunt clenching around him like a fist.

“Cum inside me,” she gasped, nails scoring his shoulders. “Fill me—please, Nereus, I need it—give it to me—”

The plea undid him. He thrust once, twice more, then buried himself to the hilt and came with a low, guttural groan. Thick pulses jetted deep inside her, flooding her pussy as she shuddered and clenched around him, milking every drop with rhythmic spasms.

For a long moment they stayed locked together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on their skin.

Then Thalia disentangled herself with brisk efficiency. She rose, legs slightly unsteady, and moved to the wooden chute set into the floor beside the pallet—the same dark opening Nereus had seen in Juno’s shack and in Ziva’s temple. She squatted over it, thighs parted, and bore down. His semen spilled from her in a slow, viscous stream, pearly white against the shadowed mouth of the pipe, vanishing down into the unseen vessel below with faint wet sounds.

Nereus watched from the pallet, chest still heaving, brows drawn in quiet puzzlement. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again. Whatever questions rose to his lips stayed there; the act felt too ritual, too deliberate, to interrupt with words.

Thalia straightened, wiped herself with a soft cloth from a nearby basin, and turned back to him. Her expression was sated, almost lazy now. “Stay,” she said simply, climbing back onto the pallet and tugging the wool blanket over them both. “Sleep here tonight.”

Nereus let her pull him close. Her body curled against his—warm, soft in the aftermath, one leg thrown possessively over his hip. The lamp burned low, casting long shadows across the cedar walls.

He lay awake a little longer, listening to her steady breathing, feeling the faint ache of use in his muscles and the strange, hollow echo of release followed so quickly by ritual offering.

He closed his eyes at last, Thalia’s arm draped across his chest, her breath warm against his neck.

Outside, the village slept under starlight.