"Not for much longer," Crowley practically purred, melting quite happily into her embrace. He wasn't mortal, and while he had no soul, he wasn't completely immune to her wiles. Honestly, he was in love with her as well, in his own way. But of course, he was hopelessly in trouble with the archangel that had saved his life. That didn't mean that Aphrodite still didn't hold plenty of sway over him.
Crowley leaned his head back to rest against the edge of the jacuzzi, letting out a rumbling sigh of contentment. The way she slotted against him, the way her fingers lightly traveled from belly to shoulders, it was comforting.
"I'm probably familiar with it," he mumbled lazily, "Picked up a lot of random talents in Mesopotamia, that might've been one of them." He hadn't realised his eyes were closed until he opened them to look at her gently, deep hazel looking into icy blue. His lips quirked up into a smile.
"Forgive me, my treasure," he huffed out a soft laugh, his arms wrapping around her, his hands gently moving up, fingers trailing lightly along her spine, "I'm trying this whole new thing. It's called 'not being a selfish self-serving bastard'. Feels funny." He rubbed his nose lightly against hers. "I know Lucifer. That Lucifer, I mean. He's a tricky bastard. And while I have every ounce of faith in you, my darling, I didn't like the idea of him having his hooks in you."
He kissed her gently. "But you're alright, of course. I needn't have worried at all."