Of Love and Forge: A Neosphere Novel (Beyond a Contemporary Mythos) by Carly Spade

Author:Carly Spade [Spade, Carly]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-02-26T16:00:00+00:00

Orion: You got it. 😉 🍑🍑🍆🍆

There were far safer places I could’ve ported, given the hunters were still after us, but Heph’s home did feel safe. The constant adrenaline spikes from potential danger at any moment also didn’t hurt. Having my powers back after losing them felt like a rebirth—a rising phoenix from the god of the forge’s flames, flickering and radiant. The god of fire, volcanoes, and Olympus’ forge was finally mine, and he stood right in front of me. So, why did I have no frigging clue what to do with him? A rare occurrence for me. Heph had me dizzy and nervous in all the best ways.

In a desperate attempt to do something rather than stand there butt naked and frozen like Boreas in the summer heat, I raised my palm, sending a spiraling glow at Heph. It swirled around him, de-materializing his clothes with every pass. He locked our gazes as each inch of him revealed masculine, tanned perfection. A snarky grin slid over his lips as my powers neared his raging erection, my heart thundering in my chest, pausing before exposing him—all of him.

I chewed on my thumbnail as I perused my territory—carved muscle, so, so tall, a masculine scattering of hair over his chest, stomach, and limbs. And his cock? Any being who turned down Heph because of the face scar had no idea what they missed. Their loss. All mine.

I had my power back, but I couldn’t pinpoint what Heph wanted, what he needed in a lover. It made me borderline disoriented. Should I pounce him? Go down on him? Ride his face? Or maybe none and all of it.

Heph curled his finger and beckoned me. “C’mere, love-y goddess.”

Any being I’d been with in the past wanted me but feared what I was. Not Hephaistos. The confidence bursting from him like a molten geyser had my stomach in pleasured knots. I couldn’t be sure if he wanted me to leap on him or take my time, but I’d been waiting an eternity for this moment, patience be damned.

I ported in front of him because I damn well could now, and I’d missed it, crashing my lips against his, scraping my nails against the back of his head. The kiss wasn’t sweet like when we’d confessed our love for each other—this one was raw and ravenous—a winding top so taut from centuries of denial about to spin way out of fucking control. His tongue plunged into my mouth, and I sucked on it before he wrapped an arm around my waist, his hand grabbing my ass—hard. He whirled me around, and with a light nudge, my back fell onto his bed.

His bed. His domain—filled with reminders of who he was, why I fell for him, and scents of oil, smoke, and musk. I trailed my fingers down his arms and chest, dirtying him like when he forged the sword for me—performed for me.

He peeled back, glancing down at the black smudges coating his body, his skin sheening with sweat and grease.

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