It was her ritual, a part she was born to play; and in the past she had rued the very core of it. Even now, in the back of her mind she wondered why she was allowing herself to go through with a degrading ceremony where she--a goddess--was used as nothing more than a brood mare. Yet, she could not, or did not, want to stop. Whether it be her brother's lingering lust or her own needs, she was more than happy to take a lead and gladly return the kiss.
One of her own hands moved to grasp high on Demeter's bicep , the other returning to grasp gently at her ribs, and she stepped in to brush their breasts together, trying to get closer in the only way she knew how when it came to Demeter.