Trapped for decades, Aphrodite, goddess of desire, has finally been freed. Now in a mortal's body, she must shape her host to her will.
Phaedra Laskaris doesn't want a man. But since the strange statue crossed her path, her will has not been her own. Her eyes are straying to her foster-son, Nick. And one amazing night she gains a new body, a new purpose, and Nick becomes Aphrodite's Lover!
~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~
She barely remembered the drive home. By the time she arrived back at her apartment, her slacks were unzipped and gaping wide. At every stoplight her hands had dipped helplessly below the waistband, frantically fingering herself.
She stumbled up the stairs to the apartment she shared with Nikki, empty to everything but the insatiable need inside her. Her fingers fumbled as she tried to slot the key into the lock, and once inside, she left her clothes behind her as she made a beeline for the bedroom. By the time she pushed open the door to her bedroom, her slacks were down to her knees, and she half-hopped, half-hobbled to the bed, where the shoved them down and off her legs with quick jerks of her arms.
She laid back with a groan, her eyes closed. Unbidden, her right hand plunged into her cleft, two fingers rigid and slightly curled. She had never masturbated often. But this was less a desire than a need, a panting need to climax. Her free hand squeezed her paltry breast, fingers clenching, as her hips rose up to meet her thrusting fingers.
Goddess...Goddess, please. I need...I need...
~I can grant you what you wish,~ a voice seemed to murmur in her ears. ~But there will be a price. There always is. Great gifts demand great sacrifices.~
“Anything,” she panted. “Please!”
~So be it.~
It started at the same time as her climax, that too-seldom-experienced feeling of joyous release. As the muscles of her belly and womb tensed and relaxed, as her mind spiraled upward in bliss, the pounding heartbeat in her ears and the thrusting rhythm of her fingers began to merge.
And her body changed.
She first noticed it in her breasts. Looking down over her chest to the slightly rounded expanse of her belly, she gasped. Her breasts were growing. The skin over her chest seemed to tighten, then expand, her flat, saggy bags blossoming with every breath. As she watched, disbelieving, the new flesh spilled up and over her clutching hands. They grew in a pulsing rhythm, each heartbeat increasing her bust-size. She filled her hands with them, as if she could stop the growth, somehow force her body back into its flat-chested rut. But the feel of her hot fingers made her tilt her head back and moan in wanton pleasure.
And that was not the only change. Her entire body was slowly transforming before her very eyes. Her skin grew richer, smoother, darker, losing its sallow hue. It almost seemed to glow in the dim light of the room. The low rise of her belly sank, her navel becoming a wonderful dimple in a smooth plane of taut skin. While her waist drew in, her hips grew slightly, the jutting bones of her pelvis now clothed with sleek flesh, wonderfully curved. Her thighs were more attractive as well, no longer skinny, but subtly different, drawing the eye.
Pain spiked in her left side, and her head spun as she gasped in agony. Then her eyes filled with sudden tears. Her scars, her burn marks, the physical residue of a fear-filled night thirty years in the past, were disappearing. Ropy, knotted masses of skin were transformed into unmarred flesh, smooth and sensitive as a child's. Even as she watched, the last traces of her burns faded away.
And then it stopped. She lay for a moment on her bed, gasping in confusion and sudden, heart-stopping wonder.