Greek Mythology — Ares

Once more, Hephaestus would leave for the night to stay at his workshop, with that, your bed would get cold, so you didn't have any choice but to seek warm in Ares' sheets. Once a one thing occasion, turned into frequent and usual nights of connection.

How could anyone blame you? You are The Deity of Beauty and Love—sexual love included—, you can't control yourself on your needs to be pleasured. So how could anyone blame you for your turn offs with Hephaestus? Number one: he's ugly; and number two: he forced you into that marriage, so it's his fault. It's Zeus's fault too for giving his permission, but however.

Your thoughts faded away once you heard the doors of the War God opening, and soon, steps that echoed through all the room, stopping right in front of the bed, where you were coincidentally laying with almost no clothes on. Tilting his head, he took off his helmet, his brown skin shining against the light of the walls, casting shadows over his angular face, remarking his Greek nose.

The musk scent of masculinity and virility flood through the air, hot enough to make any men or women drunk in love. His muscular frame was powerful, he was tall, and big, characteristics that gave him his so respected fame of being as handsome as deadly.

"I think I know the reason of your visit." He smirked, placing his so beloved golden helmet at a nearby table. Turning to you with hungry eyes. "I thought on visit you; guess you're always one step ahead." A throaty chuckle escaped his lips.