A Touch of Malice (Hades & Persephone #3)(8)

“Is this pleasure?” he asked again as he moved, setting a slow rhythm that made her aware of everything—each increment of his cock as it reached deep, the slamming of his balls against her ass, the way each thrust stole the breath from her lungs.

“Is this pleasure?” he asked again.

She turned her head toward his, gripping the back of his neck. “It is ecstasy.”

Their lips collided in a vicious kiss and there was no more talking, just gasps, desperate moans, and the slamming of bodies. The heat grew between them, until Persephone could feel the perspiration from their bodies mixing. Hades’ pace quickened, one hand kept her leg curled around his own, the other was at her throat, holding her jaw between his fingers with the lightest pressure— and he held her like that until they came.

Hades’ head fell into the crook of her neck where he pressed kisses to her skin.

“Are you well?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whispered.

She was more than well. Sex with Hades always went beyond her expectations and every time she thought they’d reached their peak— nothing can get better than this—she was proven wrong. This instance had been no different, and she found herself wondering just how much experience the God of the Dead had—and why was he holding out?

Hades withdrew, and Persephone rolled to face him, studied his face, glistening after their lovemaking. He looked sleepy and content.

“Has Zeus approved of our marriage?”

Hades stilled, as if his heart had stopped beating and he had ceased breathing. She wasn’t sure what he was reacting to—perhaps he realized he’d forgotten to talk to her about this, or he realized he’d been caught. After a moment, he relaxed, but a strange tension settled between them—it wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t the elation they usually reveled in after sex.

“He is aware of our engagement,” he said.

“That is not what I asked.”

She knew him well enough now—Hades never said or offered more than was needed. He stared at her for a moment before answering, “He will not deny me.”

“But he has not given you his blessing?”

She wanted him to say it, though she already knew the answer.

“No.”

It was her turn to stare. Still, Hades remained silent.

“When were you going to tell me?” Persephone asked.

“I don’t know,” he paused and to her surprised added, “When I had no other choice.”

“That is more than obvious.” She glared.

“I was hoping to avoid it altogether,” he said.

“Telling me?”

“No, Zeus’s approval,” Hades said. “He makes a spectacle of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“He will summon us to Olympus for an engagement feast and festivities, he will drag out his decision for days. I have no desire to be in attendance, and no desire to have you suffer through it.”

“And when will he do this?” Her voice a breathless whisper.

“In a few weeks, I imagine,” he said.

She stared at the ceiling, the colors swirling together as her vision clouded with tears. She wasn’t sure why this made her so emotional—maybe it was because she was afraid, or maybe because she was tired.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? If there is a chance we cannot be together, I have the right to know.”

“Persephone,” Hades whispered, rising to his elbow, he loomed over her, brushing at her tears.

“No one will keep us apart—not the Fates, not your mother, and not Zeus.”

“You are so certain, but even you will not challenge the Fates.”

“Oh, darling, but I have told you before—for you, I would destroy this world.”

She swallowed, watching him. “Perhaps that is what I fear the most.”

He studied her a moment longer, thumb brushing her cheek before his lips touched hers, then kissed down her body, drinking deep between her thighs and when he rose again, there were no other names upon her lips but Hades.



***

Later she woke again to find Hades returning to their room, fully dressed.

Her brows knitted together as she rose into a sitting position, eyes still heavy with sleep.

“What’s wrong?”

The god grimaced, his gaze hard and a little unkind as he answered, “Adonis is dead. He’s been murdered.”

She blinked as a wave of shock shivered though her.

Persephone did not like Adonis. He had stolen her work and published it without her permission, he’d touched her even after she’d said no, and he’d threatened to expose her relationship with Hades if she didn’t get him rehired at New Athens New s. He deserved a lot, but he hadn’t deserved to be murdered.

Hades crossed the room, returning to the bar where he poured himself a drink.

“Adonis. Murdered? How?”

“Horribly,” Hades replied. “He was found in the alleyway outside La Rose.”

It took Persephone a moment to think, her mind not quite able to catch up with the news. The last time she’d seen Adonis was in the Garden of the Gods. She’d turned his arms into literal, wooden limbs and he’d groveled at her feet, begging to be returned to normal. She’d done so under the condition that if he touched another woman without consent, he would spend the rest of his days as a corpse flower.