Defying a Goddess

John stared at Emily—her pleading eyes, the flushed desperation in her cheeks—and then at Jane, who lounged back in her seat with a smirk that didn’t belong in a classroom. His stomach twisted. "I can’t do this to her," he said, voice low. "I don’t even really know her."

He turned to leave, the weight of the moment pressing against his ribs. Jane sighed dramatically, lifting her hand. A sharp *snap* of her fingers cut through the air. Behind him, fabric rustled, seams strained, and Emily let out a startled gasp. John whipped back around.

Cat ears twitched atop Emily’s head, furred and velvety. A tail flicked behind her, curling around her thigh as her hips widened, her breasts swelling against the suddenly taut leather of her crop top. Her skirt shrank, riding high enough that the shadow between her thighs teased more than it hid. Jane propped her chin on her hand, grinning. "You really gonna turn God down," she drawled, "when she can make your *dreams* come true?" Her fingers traced John’s jaw, slow and deliberate. "I’ve seen your sketchbook."

Emily shuddered, pupils dilating into slits as she pressed her thighs together. "M-master," she whimpered. The word dripped with needy surrender—nothing like the quiet, studious girl who’d sat three rows over last week.