[ How anyone, god or not, could marry Aphrodite and not make her feel loved is beyond him. Maybe her husband is a miserable bastard, it makes Fjord feel better to imagine so.
He also feels her hesitation, relieved when she kisses him back. Fjord wraps an arm around her and rolls them on the plush tent floor (not into hot chocolate, thankfully) where his broad shoulders can be a wall between Aphrodite and the rest of the world. He brushes back her hair as the kiss parts, settling comfortably with a goddess scooped up in his embrace, her bare legs across his lap to be petted and stroked in slow caresses. ]
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He also feels her hesitation, relieved when she kisses him back. Fjord wraps an arm around her and rolls them on the plush tent floor (not into hot chocolate, thankfully) where his broad shoulders can be a wall between Aphrodite and the rest of the world. He brushes back her hair as the kiss parts, settling comfortably with a goddess scooped up in his embrace, her bare legs across his lap to be petted and stroked in slow caresses. ]
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