The chase has lasted nigh the entire day. She should find it frightening, the pursuit of a lustful god, but it feels more like a game than a threat, and his eyes, in the first moments of their meeting, shone with something beyond base desire. He is quick and nimble, yet unhurried. He has pursued her across fields and into the cover of the trees, his light steps silent as he glides and leaps toyingly from branch to branch. When his laughter falls from above to grace her ears, she can't help but echo it, the honeyed warmth catching. The girl twists around the trunk of a tree, unable to keep the smile from her face as he appears before her, his body moving with fluid grace to shift her movement so that she flows with his motion, dropping to the grass in an elegant tangle.

She knows that others have suffered this fate at the hands of his kith and kin, both willing and unwilling. Her own ravishing, she thinks, will be sweeter. His eyes ensnare hers, depths of a hazy, almost indefinable shade of brown that reminds her of the spiced smoke of the incense her mother sometimes burns, the light of the approaching sunset playing in the colors in ways that steal her breath. He pins her, so gently she might not be trapped at all, his lips descending towards hers to find them more than accomodating. The gods, for all their failings, are spoken of as though they are as hard, as cold as their stone counterparts in the temples. She finds this one to be a creature of heat, firm in all the right places, where wiry muscle coils taut beneath pliant, dusky skin. His hands caress, making her intimately aware of her own body.

He moves to join them, claiming the gift no mortal man has yet been able to earn from her, and when pain first begins to surrender to the greater authority of ecstasy, she whispers his name, more fervently than in her worship of him. "Hermes..."

The act lasts for what seems an eternity, sensations melding together until she ceases to think of anything but the god inside her, giving, taking. As one wave crests, another begins to build, her senses distilled to an elemental state of awareness; he is, in that moment, the only force she needs, beyond sustenance, water, or air. The last wave is stronger still. It overwhelms her as he falls prey to his own undoing, the sudden pulse of heat in her center driving her crashing with him back to earth.

He holds her as the world reasserts itself around them, the feel of his lithe weight atop her a comfort. His lips ghost across her face, her cheeks, her eyelids, at last settling upon her lips in a tender kiss.

The god leaves her with a comfortable ache between her thighs, his scent on her skin, whispered endearments. Will he return? Who can say? The will and motivations of the immortals are often obscure to her kind. But she knows she loves him, dearly, and whether he comes for her again or not, she will carry the memory of this day with her always.