The Greek Gods of Romance Collection

by Winters, Jovee

  I nodded. “I miss my friend.”

  His eyes closed. “Friend,” he said scornfully. “Just friends. That is all I’m ever fit to be, is it not, little ass?”

  I flinched, hating the way my pet name sounded on his tongue right now. Because it wasn’t said with affection or love, but scorn. Maybe even hate, and I would die if that were so. I’d told myself earlier that I would leave, but that had been a lie, too, because I needed him.

  I needed my Hephaestus back, and I needed him to need me too.

  I crawled toward him, and when my fire licked at his twisted foot, he froze. His eyes opened, and he looked at me like a man staring down death. But he did not turn back.

  “Are we just friends?” I whispered.

  He laughed, but the sound wasn’t pleasant. It was pain filled. “You’re my only friend, Aphrodite. So I beg of you now, please don’t do this. Don’t make me lose my only friend.”

  I reached for his face, pausing midway, expecting him to move. But he didn’t. And when I touched him, I felt the breath scissor out of his body. And now it was my turn to tremble.

  “I am incapable of staying faithful to just one,” I whispered. “I never have, and I know I never could. I’m just not built that way, but I cannot just be friends anymore, beast. I simply can’t.”

  He shook, grasping tight to my wrist. So tight that it was both incredible pain and incredible pleasure. I leaned into him dizzily.

  Years of dreaming, yearning in agonized silence had brought me here. The fantasy so huge that I knew he could not live up to it. And yet with one touch I felt undone.

  I could not remain faithful, and yet I could never think of a time when I’d wanted anyone as I wanted my Hephaestus now. Not even Ares. Ares had never felt like home.

  “Friend,” I murmured and leaned up on my knees, waiting. Hoping, dreaming, yearning… all those things and so much more.

  Halfway knowing he would banish me as he always had before.

  But with a hungry groan of desperation, Hephy’s lips found mine, and I was lost. Consumed by his fire.

  We burned golden, the two of us, as we finally gave in to years of built-up passion and tension. And I’d been right… he hadn’t lived up to my fantasy. His touch had exceeded it. Blown my expectations to smithereens.

  It was so much more than I could ever have imagined. The first press of his lips was manna, and the first swipe of his tongue was heaven.

  I sank my fingers into the thick ropes of his hair and savaged him. Attacking him with a ferocity of unspent lust he’d incited in me for so very long. Desperate for everything. All of him.

  I’d never been so out of control before. So lost to the passions.

  But I burned brighter and brighter, and he moaned as I shoved his loincloth aside and grasped hold of his firm, sleek, steely rod in my fist.

  This wasn’t going to be a slow, exploratory feast of the senses. No, it was going to be an explosion that would lay waste to us both. But I’d waited too long. Too damn long.

  “I hate you,” he moaned even as he sank to his knees before me and gently pressed me back.

  “No,” I whispered, “you don’t.”

  His breath caught as I guided his cock toward the entrance of my very wet sheath. “And godsdamn you for it,” he grunted as he pushed in, and I screamed, coming instantly.

  My fires raged out of control. Burning through his forge, destroying my beloved throne and causing his own fires to rage within.

  We were a nova of heat. Of flame. And fire.

  “So good,” I sobbed as I wrapped my arms around his neck, “so, so good.”

  He bit my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth before sucking on it. I raked my nails over his back, scoring grooves into his tight flesh, bleeding him. My passions were his, and his were mine.

  His touch consumed me. Obliterated me completely, and I sobbed as I came. I’d never cried before, but I’d never had such incredible sex. And it wasn’t as though he were doing anything other than what so many others before him had done. But I’d finally recognized something that I’d never known before.

  Sex was everything when you actually deeply, madly, and wildly loved your partner. Ares had been fantastic, one of the best I’d ever had. But Hephy, for all his lack of finesse and polish, had brought me to new heights of ecstasy.

  “I love you, beast. I love you,” I cried into his chest when it was over, and he held me like a fragile little doll.

  Crooning in my ear. “And I you, my dove. I you. And I always will.”

  I looked at him, no fires curled around me. It was just me, just plain Aphrodite, but he looked at me as though I were his sun. My heart quivered because I knew that even if I wasn’t the most beautiful woman in all the worlds, to him, I always would be. “I cannot change who I am, Hephy. Not even my great love for you could do it. Mostly because it has never changed me, and I know myself well enough to know this, but I will always love you.”

  He shook his head and laid a finger over my mouth. “I love all parts of you, little ass. Even the parts that can never fully be mine.”

  I smiled, so happy that it was almost pain because a part of me still wasn’t sure that this was real at all.

  “But I can promise you one thing. I bind my heart to yours completely. Fully. And my body too. And though I might on occasion do as I do, I will not return to your brother.”

  He shook his head. “I would never ask that of you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t.” I placed my tiny hand over the spot over his heart and felt that steady and beloved thump beneath my palm. “But I know of the bond between you two. And I would never wish to make you believe that I in anyway still wanted him. I would never want that for you. Not ever.”

  “He will hate me. I have never taken anything away from my brother.”

  “But you did not take me, beast. I came willingly. I choose you.”

  His breathing stuttered, and he pulled me in tight, and I felt the great tension roll through his big body. And then in that broken, husky tenor of his, he whispered, “No one has ever chosen me before.”

  Warmed down to my toes with overwhelming adoration for the male beneath me, I kissed his chest. And already I could feel the desire coursing through my body, making me soft and needy all over again. And Hephaestus was just as ready as I was. I could feel him growing thick beneath me. I purred.

  “Then let me show you just how very much I want you again. And again. And again. But first, my beast, you must bathe. The madness has run its course, and you stink!”

  He gasped, and then he laughed, and all the pain and fury and tension of before were gone, and in their place were us. Just us.

  He hugged me tight and whispered heatedly, “Only if you wash me.”

  “Deal,” I said with a kiss.

  Chapter 42

  Hephaestus

  When it was over, she stood up and did as she’d done the night prior. She left without a goodbye. Without a final look. Head held high.

  But my world had been shaken to its very core.

  No one whispered between themselves. But they all looked at me.

  She had loved me.

  Me.

  The beast.

  Her beast.

  I grabbed my chest and squeezed it tight, moaning in distress as I looked all around me for Themis. I would beg. Plead if I had to. I would shame myself completely if I must. But I had to speak with Aphrodite. I had to know. Had to know how she still felt.

  She’d loved me. Fiercely. Passionately. It hadn’t been an act at all. Because I’d seen Aphrodite when she’d lied, and she’d never been any good at it.

  The thought was so astonishing that all strength suddenly left my body, and I collapsed in a not so graceful heap to the cold, hard marble ground beneath me.

  Strong hands suddenly rested on my shoulders. And when I looked up, it was my brother who looked down on me with his dark and serious eyes.

  He knelt before me. Studying me. I felt boneless. Empty
. Like I wanted to cry, though I never could. But that same powerful emptiness that accompanied tears was upon me. I’d lost her.

  Forever.

  He shook his head. “She is not the same, brother. And I fear we have made a grave mistake.”

  I croaked, wishing I could speak back. Wishing I could tell him that I agreed. That he must stop this. End this. Find some way out of this for her. She was too pure, too brave to endure this ridiculous sham of a trial any further.

  And then I remembered that in her body were his children. And it was like a fist to my gut all over again. That same sense of loss, of betrayal washed over me. And I didn’t know what to think or how to feel, because I knew without a doubt it wasn’t the same woman anymore, and yet the very real consequence of actions taken would soon be upon us.

  Those were not my children. But she would always be the woman of my heart.

  He sighed. “We have not spoken, you and I, in far too long. And there are few in this life that I give a damn about. But I vow to you that when the time is right, I will mend this. I will make this right again. For both of you.”

  And with that solemn oath, he was up and striding off. An enigma and a man that, deep down, I’d never stopped caring for. Even after all he’d done to me.

  But then who could blame him. Aphrodite was a temptation impossible to resist for anyone.

  Aphrodite

  * * *

  I sat at the entrance of the Elysian Fields, watching the lovers reunite, tears coursing down my cheeks.

  I was a wolf.

  A wolf, yeah, right.

  A wolf who could not stop sobbing. I wrapped my arms tight around my middle. It was easy to be haughty and proud when I was surrounded by the vultures but so much harder in the quiet of night when it was just me and my thoughts and nothing but the memories to keep me company.

  Reliving those memories, seeing them in such exacting detail, brought it all back. The highs and the lows of our very long and complicated relationship. And then there were the gifts.

  Those beautifully thoughtful gifts made by hands that should never be able to craft anything so delicate.

  I watched as my bird flew, wishing I could be that bird. Wishing I could fly away to a place where no one knew me and there wasn’t any more pain. Just joy. Just happiness.

  I felt her presence before she even spoke.

  “Dites,” Caly said softly.

  I glanced over my shoulder. She stood as a human-looking woman, bare of feet and wrapped in turquoise silks. She had a lovely body and had every right to feel proud of it.

  In a lot of ways, Caly reminded me of me, and in other ways, she was far stronger than I would ever be.

  Caly hadn’t broken when she’d lost Hades. She’d simply reformed herself. Became a fighter. A monster. She’d become bigger and badder than she’d been. She’d have survived.

  Me, all I could do was cry.

  Swiping angrily at my cheeks, I shuddered and turned back around. It was the damned hormones. I’d always heard pregnancy turned women crazy. Of course, apparently, this body had been pregnant before, which should have given me a leg up on all of this weird moodiness, and yet I was clueless at to how I should feel or what I should even do.

  “You are lost, my pretty friend. But Caly is here to perk you up.” She grinned.

  I snorted and rolled my eyes.

  “Oh no, it’s absolutely true. I have just the remedy for these blues.”

  I thinned my lips.

  She shrugged. “C’mon, did you honestly think your best friend forever didn’t come prepared?” And then she whipped her hand inside of her chest and tugged, pulling out a bottle of Zeus’s personal ambrosia. The good stuff. The stuff that would make you as high as a kite in next to no time and have you doing things you’d rue the next day, but gods, it was a magnificent tumble from grace.

  I giggled, covering my hand with my mouth.

  “Now, I’m sure you’re wondering how I did this. Well, let me just say”—she reached back inside of her chest, which was a little on the disturbing side, but one never said so to Caly—“Dionysus and I are well on our way toward having a glorious friendship. That bastard has stickier fingers than me, if you can imagine.”

  I snorted, because oh boy, did I know that. Dionysus and I had gotten into lots of trouble in our time, lots and lots. Like the one time he’d dressed in drag, flown us to Vegas, and gotten a group of partying geriatrics to streak down the strip. Needless to say we’d all been busted and had been forced to spend the night in county lockup, but it had been so worth it.

  Hephy had come and posted my bail the next day. The eyes of the cops when they’d seen him coming for me, it made me giggle all over again, and I hadn’t even taken a sip of the loco juice yet.

  She handed me my cup, shoulder bumping me. We tapped cups, and I drank deeply.

  Yes, I was pregnant. But I was also a goddess. There wasn’t a damned thing passing through my steel womb. My children were perfectly safe, and I so needed a break from all the noise in my head.

  We sat back, enjoying the breeze and the happiness of reuniting families down below us.

  After a while, she sighed and refilled both our cups. “It’s going well, you know. I think at this point everyone knows you’re definitely not the same she-bitch. And holy hell, woman, you were heinous.”

  I snorted and scratched at the back of my head.

  “Making Hector watch while you went down on another woman. That’s like next-level savage. Nim taught me that phrase. Apparently, it means like wicked low or something. Like worse than anything I’ve ever done, anyway.” She shrugged.

  The mug hovered at my lips, and I cocked an eyebrow, mouth thinned with displeasure.

  She held up a hand. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Just stating facts. Anyway, that bitch wasn’t you, Dites. You know that, right?”

  I shrugged.

  “Gotta watch more of that shit show tomorrow. Sorry, babe. Silver lining, though, I never knew Horatio was quite so hung.”

  She neighed, and I gasped and slapped her on the shoulder.

  She giggled. And that loco juice, oh, it worked its magic. By the end, we were laughing at the dancing mushrooms with dongs the size of an excited ass all around us.

  And Caly made the most amazing sounds with her mouth that had me in stitches, and I laughed and laughed all night.

  It was a good night. But the morning, that was another thing entirely.

  Chapter 43

  Hephaestus

  Today I brought her a fiery ember from my eternal flame that I’d made some slight alterations to, if one knew where to look. I didn’t know why, other than seeing her fire the other day had made me think that maybe Aphrodite would enjoy it as I did.

  Fire could destroy, but fire could also create something divinely beautiful. Something pure and perfect. Aphrodite had always been like fire to me.

  I placed the floating blue flame upon her throne and waved my fingers through its heat. I didn’t know what I was doing with all these gifts, but I couldn’t speak. And these gifts, they were words.

  Words of contrition. Of mercy. Of begging her forgiveness.

  When she appeared today, she did not look well at all. Still heart-stoppingly beautiful, but there were dark circles under her eyes, and her pearly skin was washed out.

  She had to be nearing the end of her pregnancy, and I wondered if she was unwell because of it.

  I swallowed hard, fingers flexing as I wished for the umpteenth time that I could go to her. But as always, I could not.

  Themis walked into the great hall, and I shook my head. I looked at Aphrodite and only at her. She’d ignored my fire today.

  She’d merely stood there. And finally, Hades had been forced to take it away before she’d sat down.

  No matter how much I looked at her, though, she would not meet my eyes.

  I shuddered.

  “And so it resumes,” Themis intoned, and the colors shifted, and the room became so
mething else, but I did not care.

  The only thing I cared about hated me, and she had every right to do so. Every right in the world.

  Aphrodite

  * * *

  Caly had been right. It was a shit show.

  I was abominable.

  A monster.

  Dressing him up like a court jester and parading him through the balls I’d known he’d hated. Calling him my ape. My monkey boy, created just to serve me.

  Tossing bananas at him and smirking at the cacophony of laughter my awful mockery had elicited from the others.

  The hate I’d felt for him had been so palpable, so thick that tears rolled down my cheeks from shame.

  I kept telling myself it wasn’t me. That wasn’t me. But it was me.

  I’d never been quite so cruel, but I’d not always been with him as I was now. And being forced to watch my cruelty, so close, I knew that deep inside of me, there was a part of me that could be just as mean-spirited and ugly as that bitch had been.

  She’d taken a different path in life than I had. She’d never made honest and true friends who’d helped her grow and mature and learn that she was so much more than she’d believed herself capable of. She’d only been consumed by beauty and passion, and in her constant pursuit for more and more of it, she’d grown ruthless and forbidding. Her arrogant pride, that was also as fragile as spun glass. If that Dite had ever even perceived an insult—whether intended or not—she’d become a raging ball of petty vindictiveness that knew no bounds.

  I’d hear her laugh, so like my own, when she’d force him to bed others in front of her. Giving him the impossible task of forcing him to make at least a hundred orgasm before he could take her. But of course, he never could. And she never had to feel his touch. She grew colder, each act more brutal than the last, until one day, I saw her look down upon him as if he weren’t simply just beneath her, but nothing at all. And what I couldn’t fathom, couldn’t understand, was why she’d clung to the obviously fake marriage as she had.