"I am Aphrodite.
When I cry, you will taste the nectar of my love.
When I laugh, the world stills at my voice.
When I fuck, your lives will be destroyed."
Where pain is pleasure, ugliness is beauty, and passion is a curse.
A goddess is slain by h...
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g o d s , the ones with the power to lead this world, also have the power to destroy it
HER golden was breathtaking.
The type that constricted your airways and demanded attention. It seeped from the finest parts of her body and called for you to follow. And I did.
Right when she slipped from my grip, an unavoidable pleasure settled in me. She was the very meat that made any man hesitant to take a bite from. Tempting, yet raw and cold.
I'd thought back to moments before. Then moments from hours ago that had finally made me lose to her beauty. We were held in each other's embraces, teasing and seducing so normally.
The goddess was dangerous. I knew that one day her reckless behaviors would lead Graeae to cut my thread. Alas, her contribution to both my erections put me in a front row position to enjoy the pleasant show of her languid state.
The hard pain she inflicted to me was a short lived release. Just moments longer and I don't know whether my control would have held.
If she was a masochist, I was a sadist.
Her hands had been coated in blood, golden dress seeping like the chalice of wine the mortals offered for us. Zeusy she had called me. It was a mistake I didn't think she would make. I was Ares, god of war.
I was nothing like my foolish father...but at the same time, maybe I was. I, too, had become entranced with the goddess of love. Even after her antics with my father, my uncles, my brothers.
My father had managed to surpass me in the sense that he had dropped to his knees before her. It was unlike anything he had done for his other mistresses—even Hera for that matter. If she was involved in a situation, the ruler of the Gods would not hesitate to keep his hands on her, and at that, even in the most dire of situations.
"Leave." I whispered to her. I wished I could mutter in her ear that it was I, that she was wrong, that her mistakes were funny. But they were not, rather, they were mind boggling. She never made a mistake. My voice was strained where I knew hers would be teasing if she would have glanced to me under her long lashes, bronzed eyes gazing at me with ulterior lust. Dite's looks would have been misplaced, for her and I were not meant to be. We were opposites, and would remain so until she left yet again. But she wanted to be different for a reason.
I'm not sure she wanted to be accepted herself, so being cared for...taken in by the same people who couldn't see that the bigger picture was all a fairytale. The ones who got too close to any of us would suffer her wrath and be put in harm's way-- like my stupid sisters, Artemis and Persephone. Both laid shaken, crippled by the vixen I had held in my arms. They struggled to even stand as she bid them a silent farewell.
