A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(69)

She didn’t respond. “Answer, goddess.”

“Have you slept with her?”

It was the only question that mattered.

He stopped dancing, and those who shared the floor with them did, too, watching with obvious interest. “It sounds like you are requesting a game, Goddess.”

“You wish to play a game?” she scoffed, stepping away from him. “Now?”

He did not answer, and simply held out his hand for her to take. A few weeks ago, she would have hesitated, but tonight she’d had a few glasses of wine, her skin was hot, and this dress was uncomfortable.

Besides, she wanted answers to her questions.

She pressed her fingers into Hades’ palm, and the god smiled wickedly. His fingers closed over hers and they teleported to the Underworld.





CHAPTER XVIII – A TOUCH OF PASSION



Hades appeared in his office. The last time Persephone had been here, she and Hades had played a game of rock-paper-scissors. A fire crackled in the hearth, but the heat wasn’t necessary. She was already an inferno from their dance and that smile he’d offered just before they teleported hadn’t helped—it had promised something sinful.

Gods. Would it ever be possible to control her body’s reaction to him? She was terrible at resisting him, and maybe it was because the darkness in her responded to the darkness in him.

Hades offered her wine, and she accepted a glass while he chose his usual—whisky.

He lifted his gaze and asked, “Hungry? You barely ate at the gala.”

Persephone narrowed her eyes. “You were watching me?”

“Darling, don’t pretend you weren’t watching me. I know your gaze upon me like I know the weight of my horns.”

She looked away, cheeks coloring. “No, I’m not hungry.”

Not for food, anyway—but she didn’t say that out loud.

He accepted this and walked to a table in front of the fireplace. It was like the one in Nevernight, and instead of sitting side-by-side, Hades and Persephone took up opposite ends of the table.

A single deck of cards waited. She never imagine that a few pieces of plastic would hold so much power—these cards could take or bestow riches, they could grant freedom or become the jailer. They could answer questions and strip away dignity.

Hades took a sip from his glass and then sat it down with an audible click, reaching for the cards.

“The game?” Persephone asked.

“Poker,” he said, taking the cards out of the box. He started to shuffle them, the sound drew Persephone’s attention, as did his graceful fingers. The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and she took a breath before asking, “The stakes?”

Hades smiled. “My favorite part—tell me what you want.”

A thousand things came to her at once and all of them had to do with returning to the bathes and finishing what they started.

Finally, she said, “If I win, you answer my questions.”

“Deal,” he said, continuing to shuffle the cards. When he was finished, he said, “If I win, I want your clothes.”

“You want to undress me?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Darling, that’s only the start of what I want to do to you.”

She cleared her throat. “Is one win equal to a piece of clothing?”

“Yes.” He eyed her dress, and it really wasn’t fair because it was all she had on except for her jewels so she touched her necklace where it dipped between her breasts and Hades eyes followed. He seemed to assess her jewels.

“And...what about jewelry? Do you consider that undressing?”

He took a sip from his drink before answering, “That depends.”

“On?”

“I might decide I want to fuck you with that crown on.”

She smirked. “No one said anything about fucking, Lord Hades.”

“No? Pity.”

She leaned over the table, and though she felt shaky inside, she managed in as steady of a voice as possible, “I’ll accept your bargain.”

His brows rose, eyes alight. “Confident in your ability to win?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Hades.”

Except that she was—afraid that she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him when he came for her. She was very aware of the fluttering inside her. It sat, low in her belly, reminding her that Hades’ lithe fingers had been inside her. That he had drank her passion and need from her body and he hadn’t finished.

She needed him to finish.

Persephone shivered.

“Cold?” he asked as he dealt the first hand.

“Hot,” she said, and cleared her throat.

Heat pooled at her core and suddenly, she couldn’t get comfortable. She shifted, crossing her legs harder, smiling at Hades, hoping he couldn’t tell how terribly nervous she was.

Hades laid his cards down—a pair of kings. She clamped her lips together, glaring, before she laid down her cards, already knowing she had lost. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes brightened with lust.

He sat back, assessing. After a moment, he said, “I suppose I will take the necklace.”

She reached to unclasp it, but he stopped her. “No, let me.”

She hesitated, but slowly dropped her hands into her lap. Hades stood and walked to her side, the click of his shoes making her heart race. He gathered her hair into his hands and drew it over her shoulder. When his fingers touched her skin, she inhaled and held her breath as he unclasped the necklace. He let one side drop, and the cool metal fell between her breasts. As he pulled it away, the chain slid along her collarbone, and was soon replaced by his lips.