A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(63)

“Do you know all of my powers, Persephone?” he asked, finally leveling his gaze with hers.

It was really hard to think when he was so close, and she looked at him warily, wondering what he was getting at.

“Some of them,” she said.

“Enlighten me.”

She recalled the passage she’d read about the Lord of the Dead’s magic.

“Illusion,” she said.

And as she spoke, he leaned in, lightly kissing the column of her neck “Yes,” he said.

“Invisibility?”

A press of his tongue in the hollow of her throat.

“Very Valuable,” he mumbled.

“Charm?” She breathed.

“Hmm.” The hum of his words vibrated against her skin, lower this time, closer to her breast. “But it doesn’t work on you...does it?”

“No,” she swallowed hard.

“You seem to not have heard of one of my most valuable talents.” He pulled the towel down, exposing her breasts, and took one tight bud between his teeth, sucking until a guttural sound escaped her mouth. He pulled back and leveled his gaze with hers. “I can taste lies, Persephone. And yours are as sweet as your skin.”

She pushed at him, and he took a step back. “This was a mistake.”

That part she believed. She had come here to meet the terms of her contract. How had she ended up naked in a pool with the God of the Dead? Persephone grabbed her clothes from the floor and moved up the steps.

“You might believe this was a mistake,” he said, and she paused, but didn’t turn to look at him. “But you want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.”

She shivered and then ran.





CHAPTER XVII – THE OLYMPIAN GALA



Persephone couldn’t sleep.

She felt charged as unspent energy coursed through her veins, making her body feel flush beneath the blankets. She pushed them off, but found little relief. Her thin cotton nightgown was like a weight against her skin, and when she moved, the fabric brushed against her sensitive breasts. She curled her fingers into fists and clamped her thighs together in an attempt to stop the pressure building in her core.

And she could think of no one else but Hades—the press of his body against hers, the heat of his kiss, the feel of his tongue tasting more than the skin of her collarbone.

She sighed, frustrated and shifted in bed, but the pulsing didn’t stop.

“This is ridiculous,” she said aloud and got to her feet. She paced her room. She should be focusing on fulfilling the terms of the contract with Hades, not kissing the King of the Dead.

Stupid favor, she thought.

Each time Hades kissed her, things went farther and farther. Now she was being brought to the edge of something she didn’t understand—something she hadn’t explored and couldn’t shake.

She looked at her bed—the rumpled comforter made it appear like she’d shared it with someone. She clenched and unclenched her firsts. She had to make this feeling go away or she wasn’t going to sleep and she had too much to do. She and Lexa had to go shopping and get ready for the Olympian Gala.

She made a split decision and stepped out of her panties. The cool air eased the tension in her core—just barely. It also made her hyper-aware of the dampness between her thighs. Lying down again, she moved her legs apart and drew her fingers along her thigh until they trailed her sex. She was wet and hot, and her fingers sank into a part of her she had never touched. She gasped, arching her back as she pleasured herself. Her thumb found the sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs—and she worked it the way Hades had taught her, until her body felt electric and waves of pleasure made her dizzy and unaware.

She rolled onto her knees, working herself hard, imagining it was Hades hand in place of hers, imagining that she could fill his hard length inside her. She knew that if Minthe hadn’t interrupted, she would have let Hades take her in the pool. That thought spurred her on. Her breath came harder and she moved faster.

“Tell me you’re thinking about me.” His voice came from the shadows—a chill breeze against a bright flame.

Persephone froze and rolled, finding Hades standing at the end of her bed. She couldn’t tell what he was wearing in the dark, but she could see his eyes, and they glittered like coals in the night.

When she said nothing, he prompted, “Well?”

Her thoughts scattered. A small shaft of light fell across a cheekbone and his full lips. She wanted those lips in all the places she felt fire. She rose onto her knees and kept his gaze as she removed her nightshirt completely. Hades growled low in his throat and braced himself against the footboard of the bed.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I was thinking about you.”

The tension in the air thickened. Hades spoke in a growl that made Persephone’s skin prick.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

Persephone began where she left off. Hades inhaled between gritted teeth as he watched her pleasure herself. At first, she maintained eye contact, reveling in the feel of his eyes roving every inch of her skin, reveling in this sin. Soon the pleasure was too much, and her head rolled back, her hair spilled down her back, exposing her breasts for Hades’ viewing.

“Come for me,” he urged, and then commanded again. “Come, my darling.”