What was it about the rough mess of a war god that did it for her? It must have been something primal and pure, an innate desire to be taken by the strongest man in the room. She wasn't above that sort of thing as a goddess.
Or maybe it was just that Peitho was a very horny goddess.
She wasn't quite so drunk as Ares, but no one could threaten her of being sober.
"I do adore to be appreciated," she said as she came across to him, ignoring the gazes of others in the room. Peitho, too, liked an audience. Why else would she have a home entirely bound in un-curtained floor to ceiling windows?