Lame, with harsh features, brooding eyes, a wiry beard crackling with flame, and ropy muscles, the god mortals call Hephaestus is nobody's idea of perfection. Indeed, far from it. A lingering odor of burnt solder clings to him, adding to his manly stench of sweat and musk. His bed is narrow and lonely, his sheets filled with soot and regret.<br><br>Blacksmith to Olympus, he hides from his kin on an island in the Mediterranean, commissioned to forge a hero's sword from unbreakable metal. But a brief tryst with a minor water god distracts him. Aean is everything Hephaestus is not -- young, beautiful, sexy. He stirs in Hephaestus a savage lust the smith has never felt before.<br><br>Now Hephaestus wants Aean for his own, and he won't rest until the water god is his.

To Love a God

Too many things in this life were chosen for


Hephaestus—too many indignities were foisted upon him by others.


His ugliness, his lameness, his lot here in the bowels of the


mountain. If he wants a lover, he will decide to take one. He will


Still, it’s difficult to ignore the godling’s


siren call. Hephaestus tosses in restless dreams, hand fisted tight


around his erect cock, blood pounding in his ears and groin as Aean


whispers his name. The water god’s voice seems to pour from the


very rocks surrounding Hephaestus, and Thera grumbles with the


smith’s displeasure. Hephaestus loses himself in sleep, bedding


down on soiled sheets sticky with his own cum, angry at himself for


not being strong enough to resist his mortal urges. His dick is


sore from abuse, and his buttocks ache for the burn and stretch


they’d felt when Aean first plunged between them. In the depths of


his mind, Hephaestus relives those few wicked moments on his belly


Chapter 5