A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(22)

“Where were you?” she asked, picking up the pan of brownies and sliding them into the oven. An overwhelming wave of heat hitting her face as she opened the door.

“I had business.” Hades replied, evasive as ever.

Persephone let the oven door slam and turned to him. “Business? At this hour?”

She wasn’t even sure of the time, but she knew it was early morning.

He offered a menacing smile and inclined his head. “I make bargains with monsters, Persephone.”

He glanced at the bowl on the counter. “And you, apparently, bake.”

She frowned.

“You couldn’t sleep?” He asked.

“I didn’t try.”

It was Hades’ turn to frown, and then his eyes shifted. “Is that my whiskey?”

Persephone followed his gaze to where she’d left the crystal container.

“Was,” she replied.

Then she felt Hades’ hand on her chin as he turned her face to his and pressed his lips to hers, lightly at first and then harder, moving closer, sealing the space between them.

“I ache for you,” he spoke against her mouth, his hands skimmed down her body, one hand squeezed her ass, the other pressed against the silk of her dressing gown to stroke her damp center through the fabric. Persephone groaned, her fingers digging into his shirt as heat blossomed in the bottom of her stomach, melting between her thighs. Every part of her felt sensitive and swollen.

Hades broke the kiss and Persephone hissed as he moved to press his erection into the warmth of her body.

“Let’s play a game,” he said.

“I think I am done with games for the night,” she said, breathless.

“Just one,” he said, kissing her jaw and reached for the batter-covered spoon she’d dropped into the mixing bowl earlier.

Her brows furrowed as she watched him, curious.

“Never have I ever,” he said, trailing the back of the spoon across her chest. The batter was cold, and she shivered.

“Hades—”

“Shh,” he said, smirking and traced the spoon over her lips. She started to lick the batter away.

“Stop.”

She froze, his eyes heated.

“That’s for me.”

She swallowed hard.

“Never have I ever wanted anyone but you.”

“Never? Even before you knew I existed?” she challenged.

“Yes,” he said, and he licked her lips before parting her mouth. He tasted like fudge and whiskey and he smelled like spice—a blend of cloves and geraniums and wood. His lips drifted to her jaw and her lips were left swollen from his kiss. He spoke against her skin, the words vibrating in the bottom of her stomach. “Before you, I only knew loneliness, even in a room full of people—it was an ache, sharp and cold and constant and I was desperate to fill it.”

“And now?” she breathed.

Hades chuckled. “Now I ache to fill you.”

His tongue touched her chest as he licked away the batter on her skin, and his hands came to rest on her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples through her nightdress. Persephone gasped, her fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, but Hades had other ideas as he lifted her onto the edge of the island, settling between her legs. He was so close she couldn’t continue undressing him.

“Tell me about tonight,” he said, hands trailing her thighs lightly, teasing her entrance. She felt so uncomfortably empty.

“I don’t want to talk about tonight,” she said, reaching for his wrist, she attempted to draw him inside her.

“I do,” he said, still circling her, sending a pleasurable thrill up her spine like a lightning strike.

“You were upset.”

“I feel…stupid,” she said.

“Never,” he breathed as a finger curled inside her. Hades’ arm kept her head from falling back, their eyes held as he begged. “Tell me.”

“I was jealous,” she said between her teeth, the ugly feeling tore through her just as powerful as the pleasure he was giving her now. “That you had shared so much with so many before me and I know you cannot help it and that you have lived so long…but I…”

Her words were swallowed by an overwhelming sensation—a wave of pleasure that rattled her brain and stole her words. She could barely breath and Hades chased that feeling, fingers spiraling deeper, thumb brushing lightly over her clit.

“I’d have had you from the beginning,” Hades said, his tone low, grating, sensual. “But the Fates are cruel.”

“I was only given to punish,” she said.

“No, you are pleasure. My pleasure.”

He kissed her mouth again as his fingers continued to work and their breaths mingled, coming faster until Hades pressed his palm to her chest and guided her onto her back. He stared down at her as he spoke.

“It is you now, you forever.”

As he bent, coaxing her legs wide, tongue tasting her swollen center, she arched off the granite counter upon which he feasted. His fingers and tongue moved faster, chasing her orgasm with each breathy moan, but before she could come, he stopped, straightened, and pulled her off the counter.

“What are you doing?” she asked as her feet touched the ground. There was something dark in his gaze and it was erotic and violent, and Persephone wanted to challenge it, to bring it to life.