A Touch of Darkness (Hades x Persephone #1)(71)

She writhed against him as he worked, pressing her hips into him just to feel him deeper, and he delivered, releasing her to sink his fingers into her damp center. She couldn’t stop the moans from escaping her mouth. He drove her to the edge, and she resisted, wanting to prolong this ecstasy as long as possible, but he grew fierce and wicked, and she called his name over and over again—a chant that matched his strokes until she came apart.

She had no time to collect herself. Hades reached for her, dragging her to his mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and reached for the buttons of his shirt, but Hades caught her wrists, stopping her. She was even more confused when he pulled the straps of her dress into place.

“What are you doing?” she demanded.

He dared to laugh.

“Patience, darling,”

She was anything but patient—the heat between her legs had only been stroked, and she was desperate to be filled.

He gathered her into his arms and strolled out of his study, into the palace halls.

“Where are we going?” she asked, hands fisted into his shirt. She was ready to rip it from his body—to see him naked before her, to know him as intimately as he knew her.

“To my chambers,” he said.

“And you can’t teleport?” she asked.

“I’d prefer the whole palace know we aren’t meant to be disturbed.”

Persephone blushed. She only shared half of that wish—and it was to not be disturbed.

He held her close as he walked, and the reality of why they were going to his bedroom descended. There was no returning from this—she’d known that from the beginning. The evening they shared in the pool had been one of the most exhilarating experiences of her life, but this night would be one of the most devastating.

Their darkness would come together. After tonight, this god would always be a part of her.

After they were inside Hades’ chambers, he seemed to sense the change in her thoughts. He lowered her to the ground, keeping her close. She fit against his body perfectly, and she had the fleeting thought that they were always meant to come together like this.

“We don’t have to do this,” he said.

She reached for the lapels of his jacket and helped him out of it.

“I want you,” she said. “Be my first—be my everything.”

It was all the encouragement he needed. Hades lips met hers—softly at first, and then they came together more urgently. He tore away and turned her around, unzipping her dress. The red silk fell away, puddling on the floor at her feet. She still wore the heels, but stood naked before him.

Hades groaned and walked around to face her. There was tension in his shoulders—he was wound tight.

“You are beautiful, my darling,” he said.

He kissed her again and Persephone fumbled with his shirt until Hades took over, making quick work of the buttons, then he reached for her, but she took a step back. For a moment, Hades was confused, and then Persephone said, “Drop your glamour.”

He looked at her curiously.

She shrugged a shoulder. “You wish to fuck me with this crown, I wish to fuck a god.”

His smirk was devilish, and he answered, “As you wish.”

Hades’ glamour evaporated like smoke curling into the air. The black of his eyes melted to an electrifying blue, and two black gazelle horns spiral out of his head. He seemed bigger than ever, filling the whole space with his dark presence.

She had no time to enjoy the look of him, because as soon as his glamour fell, he reached for her and lifted her off the floor, depositing her on the bed. He kissed her lips again, and then her neck, trailing his tongue over one nipple and the other. He stayed there for a while, working each into a tight bud. Persephone tried to reach for the button of his pants, but he pulled away, laughing.

“Eager for me, Goddess?” he asked, kissing down her stomach, and then her thighs. He sat back on his knees, and Persephone thought he was going to press his mouth to her core once more, but instead he stood, removing each of her shoes and then the rest of his clothing.

She would never tire of seeing him naked. He was sin and sex, and his smell was all around her, clinging to her hair and to her skin. Her eyes fell to his arousal, thick and swollen. She reached for it, unafraid, unthinking, and as her hands surrounded his hot shaft, he hissed.

She liked the sound. She worked him—up and down, from root to tip and with each groan that escaped his mouth, Persephone grew more confident. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock.

“Fuck.”

And then she took him into her mouth and Hades braced himself against her shoulders. She didn’t know what to do—she had never done this before, but she liked the taste of salt on his skin. Her teeth grazed the top of his head as she moved him in and out, and soon his hips moved, too—harder and faster until he pulled her away.

Confused she asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

His laugh was dark, his voice husky, his eyes predatory. “No.”

His hand gripped the back of her neck and he kissed her, his tongue reaching deep before he tore away and said, “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you.” She was breathless and desperate.

He pushed her back, and climbed over her, covering her body with his, stretching out so she felt the press of his erection against her stomach.

“Tell me you lied,” he said.