A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(30)

“We do not get along well enough to be housemates, Hades.” He looked amused, and she lifted her chin. “How often am I allowed to come here and work?”

“As often as you want,” he said. “I know you are eager to complete your task.”

She looked away, and then bent to scoop up a handful of the sand. It was silky and fell through her fingers like water. She considered how she would plant the garden. Her mother could create seeds and sprout them out of nothing. Persephone couldn’t touch a plant without it wilting. Perhaps she could convince Demeter to give her a few of her own seedlings. Divine magic would have a better chance in this dirt than anything a mortal might offer.

She thought through her plan, and when she rose to her feet, she found Hades watching her again. She was getting used to his gaze, but it still made her feel exposed. It didn’t help that she only wore Hades’ black robe.

“And…how shall I enter the Underworld?” she asked. “I’m assuming you don’t wish me to return the way I came.”

“Hmm,” he said, tilting his head to the side, as if considering something. She had only known him for three days, but had seen him do this before when he was particularly amused. It was a move he made when he already knew how he was going to act.

Even with that knowledge, she was surprised when he took her by the shoulders and pulled her flush against him. Her arms shot out, fitting against his chest. When his lips met hers, she lost her grip on reality. Her legs gave out, and Hades arms slipped around her, holding her tighter. His mouth was hot and consuming. He kissed her with everything—his lips and teeth and tongue—and she reciprocated with just as much passion, and though she knew she should not encourage him, her body had a mind of its own.

As her hands moved up his chest and around his neck, Hades made a sound deep in his throat that both thrilled and frightened her. Then they were moving, and she felt the stone wall at her back. When he lifted her off the ground, she wrapped her legs around his waist. He was so much taller than her, and this position allowed him to trace her jaw with his lips, nip at her ear, and kiss down her neck. The sensation made her gasp, and she arched against him, driving her fingers through his hair, loosening the tie that held his dark strands in place, and when his hands moved under her dress, grazing soft, sensitive skin, she cried out, gripping his hair in her hands.

That’s when Hades pulled away. His eyes were alight with a need she felt deep in her core, and they struggled to catch their breath. For a long moment, they remained still. Hades hands were still under her robe, gripping her thighs. Neither of them was sure what to do—she wouldn’t stop him if he continued. His fingers were dangerously close to her core, and she knew he could feel her heat. Still, if she gave into this need, she couldn’t say how she might feel after, and for some reason, she didn’t want to regret Hades.

Maybe he sensed that, too, because he pried his fingers from her flesh and lowered her to the ground. His dark hair fell in waves well past his shoulders, and created a dark halo around his face.

“Once you enter Nevernight, you have only to snap your fingers, and you will be brought here.”

The color drained from her face, and she stopped breathing for a moment. Of course, she thought. He was bestowing favor. In the aftermath of the kiss, Persephone felt ashamed. Why had she allowed this? Why had she allowed things to get so intense? She knew not to trust the God of the Underworld—not even his passion.

She tried to push him away, but he didn’t budge.

“Can’t you offer favor another way?” she snapped.

He looked amused. “You didn’t seem to mind.”

She blushed and touched her tingling lips with shaking fingers. Hades eyes flashed, and for a moment, she thought he might pick up when they left off.

And she couldn’t let that happen.

“I should go,” she said.

Hades nodded once, then he wrapped his arm around her waist.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

Hades snapped his fingers. The world shifted, and they were in her room. It was still dark outside, but the clock beside her bed read five in the morning. She had an hour before she had to be up and ready for work.

“Persephone,” Hades voice was a low rumble, and she met his gaze. “Never bring a mortal to my realm again, especially Adonis. Stay away from him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How do you know him?”

“That is not relevant.”

She tried to draw away from him, but he kept her where she was, pressed against him.

“I work with him, Hades,” she said. “Besides, you can’t give me orders.”

“I’m not giving you orders,” he said. “I am asking.”

“Asking implies there’s a choice.”

She wasn’t sure it was possible, but Hades held her tighter. His face was inches from hers, and she found it hard to meet his eyes because her gaze kept falling to his mouth—the memory of the kiss they’d shared in the garden, a phantom on her lips. She shut her eyes against it.

“You have a choice,” he said. “But if you choose him, I will fetch you, and I might not let you leave the Underworld.”

Her eyes flew open, and she glared at him.

“You wouldn’t,” she said between her teeth.

Hades chuckled, leaning in so that when he spoke, his breath caressed her lips. “Oh, darling. You don’t know what I’m capable of.”