I Enslaved The Goddess Who Summoned Me

“I’ll do my best.” Aphrodite nodded, though her playful pout returned as she stepped closer, her delicate fingers trailing up his arm before settling around his waist. Without warning, she pressed her soft, warm body against his back, her arms wrapped around him in an intimate embrace. She leaned forward, her lips grazing his neck, leaving a series of lingering, featherlight kisses. “Why don’t you show the same worry for me, Nate?” she whispered, her breath warm against his skin.

Nathan tensed, feeling the heat of her touch and the intoxicating scent that clung to her. Aphrodite was the goddess of love and beauty, and every part of her was crafted to allure. His body responded immediately, an involuntary reaction to her closeness. Her scent was sweet and heady, her hair brushing softly against his shoulder, and the faint hint of her perfume filled the air, potent and alluring. For a moment, he almost gave in, tempted to pin her against the bed and make her his, to release the tension that had been building.

But Nathan managed to resist, his willpower honed from countless encounters. “Do I need to?” he replied coolly, his voice masking the struggle within.

Aphrodite gave a soft, frustrated sigh, her pout deepening. “Hera despises me, and Ares is always on my heels, constantly pestering me to sleep with him,” she complained, her tone a mixture of irritation and weariness.

Nathan raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you already sleep with him?”

“That was ten thousand years ago,” she muttered, a hint of regret in her voice. “I was young, foolish… and a bit too impulsive back then.”

“Then refuse him,” Nathan said simply, shrugging off the complications with practical indifference.

Aphrodite’s expression turned to one of mild frustration, her lips pursing as she searched for the words to explain. “If only it were that simple. I… I made a deal with him. I asked him to step in for Apollo, to lend his war magic to the Trojans so they could counter Athena’s influence on the battlefield.” She paused, her gaze troubled. “If Ares realizes I’ve manipulated him, he’ll pull his support—and without that, Troy’s defenses will weaken. »

“I thought he hated Athena?” Nathan asked, arching an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t he help you out just to have the satisfaction of humiliating her?”

Aphrodite sighed, frustration evident in her voice. “He doesn’t like her, true. But his obsession with me overshadows everything else. If I don’t give him what he wants, he’s the kind to make sure he gets it… one way or another.”

Nathan’s eyes widened. “You’re saying he might even switch to the Greeks’ side just to force you into bed?” He shook his head in disbelief. Ares’ motivations seemed shallow, driven by little more than primal urges.

Didn’t he have any ambition beyond satisfying his lust?

He’s no better than Poseidon, still hunting for Khione, all just to fuck her.

“It’s entirely possible.” Aphrodite nodded, a flicker of unease crossing her face. She couldn’t gauge how Ares’ obsession for her had festered and grown over the millennia, and that unknown threatened to unravel everything.

Nathan watched her, realizing that the weight of this burden went deeper than she let on. There was something somber in her expression, a vulnerability she usually concealed behind her allure and confidence. But then again, Aphrodite had saved him more than once and been his ally here, risking her own standing among the gods. Her favor had been instrumental in keeping him alive.

Yes, he had his reasons for joining the Trojans and earning Apollo’s favor to save his own life, but a small part of him knew it wasn’t enough to repay her fully. Aphrodite hadn’t just set him on this path; in her own way, she had been a lifeline.

He took a breath, steadying his resolve. “What do you want me to do about it? Ares is stronger than me, and I’m already on thin ice with enough of the Olympians,” he admitted, though he could sense her distress and was willing to offer what little he could.

Aphrodite looked at him, taken aback. She hadn’t expected him to respond so earnestly. Was he truly willing to fight for her? She had always assumed he acted out of duty to Khione or the bond he held with others, and while Khione might hold a special place, Aphrodite’s connection to Nathan was far less tangible. He had no reason to go to such lengths for her.

“Did you hear me?” Nathan asked, turning to face her fully, his eyes searching hers.

Aphrodite steadied herself, her mind racing. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, thoughts tumbling in a chaotic whirl. For a fleeting moment, she considered spilling everything, unraveling the tangled web of peril that ensnared her, a trap that even Nathan, with all his impossible luck and reckless charm, would not escape unscathed. The danger she was in went beyond the mortal realm, beyond the understanding of even the bravest souls.

But no, she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. It was too soon, too dangerous to involve him in a fate so twisted. Because she really loved him.

She smoothed the anxious tremor in her voice and plastered on a teasing smile, her eyes sparkling like stars caught in the flush of twilight. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about me! I’m just… disappointed you don’t pay attention to me anymore,” she pouted, her voice a melodic tease, light and airy as if her heart wasn’t clenching with fear. She knew how to wield her beauty, knew how to distract and disarm with a single glance, and Nathan was no exception.

Nathan’s brow furrowed, confusion clouding his usually carefree expression. But before she could gauge his reaction, before she could prepare herself for whatever words he would hurl her way, he closed the distance between them in a single, swift movement. “Wha—?” she started, but the question died on her lips as his mouth crashed onto hers with a force that stole her breath.

Aphrodite’s eyes flew wide, her mind going blank with shock. In all her long, endless life, no one—

no one

—had ever dared to kiss her like this. It was raw, hungry, a claiming rather than a kiss. The kind of kiss that left no room for games or pretense, a kiss that demanded surrender. She had been worshipped, adored, and revered, but never…

never

had anyone dared to take.

His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she gasped into his mouth as her ample breasts were crushed against his chest, the soft mounds straining against the thin fabric of her dress. Nathan’s hands were rough, insistent, his fingers splayed possessively against the curve of her spine. Her nipples stiffened at the contact, hardening into aching peaks that rubbed tantalizingly against the coarse material of his shirt.

Nathan’s eyes blazed with a fire that sent shivers cascading down her spine. He looked down at her, eyes drawn to the generous swell of her breasts, the deep valley between them that seemed to promise all sorts of forbidden pleasures. Her dress was a flimsy thing, almost translucent, clinging to her curves, barely containing the soft flesh that threatened to spill free.

His tongue plunged into her mouth, tasting, exploring, ravaging. She tasted sweet, like honeyed ambrosia, like something divine and forbidden, and it drove him wild.

His free hand slipped lower, fingers brushing against her thighs, rough palms caressing the soft, silky skin.

Aphrodite’s knees went weak as his hand slid up, up, beneath her dress, and she gasped, her voice a breathless moan that vibrated against his lips. “Hmmmff❤️~~~” Her thighs parted almost instinctively, granting him access, and his fingers found her bare, wet and ready. There were no barriers between them; she hadn’t bothered with undergarments, confident in her allure, never expecting someone to take advantage of it so brazenly.

Nathan’s fingers teased her slick folds, spreading the wetness that pooled there, and Aphrodite shuddered, her hips bucking involuntarily into his touch. When his thumb found her clitoris, rubbing in slow, deliberate circles, her head fell back, lips parting in a silent cry of pleasure. Her pussy clenched around nothing, desperate and needy, a wet heat that he could feel pulsing against his fingers.

He broke the kiss just long enough to watch her face, the way her pink eyes glazed over with lust, her cheeks flushed a deep, enchanting red. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body quivering like a taut bowstring ready to snap. Nathan smirked, his eyes dark with mischief and triumph. “Such a good girl, cumming so easily for me,” he whispered against her lips, and he wasn’t disappointed. He could feel it, the way her pussy tightened, a fresh rush of wetness as she came undone around his fingers.

Without breaking eye contact, he brought his fingers to his lips, licking her cum clean, savoring the taste. “Even your cum tastes divine,” he murmured, voice low and rough, and the words sent another shiver through her. Aphrodite’s knees buckled, and she leaned against him for support, her body still quaking with aftershocks of pleasure.

Nathan pulled away abruptly, leaving her breathless, trembling, her heart racing in her chest. He stepped back, his eyes never leaving hers, that wicked smirk still playing on his lips. “I have a feast to attend,” he said, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just turned her world upside down. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, leaving Aphrodite standing there, her dress rumpled, her body aching for more, her lips tingling from his savage kiss.

As the door closed behind him, Aphrodite pressed her fingers to her swollen lips, her mind a haze of confusion and desire. She was the goddess of love, the embodiment of seduction, and yet… yet she had been the one left wanting, the one who had been taken.