A Touch of Ruin (Hades x Persephone #2)(98)

“I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t,” she snapped. “You are only saying that to appease me and I hate it. Is this why you want a queen? So you don’t have to attend these events?”

“No, I wanted you,” he said. “And because of that, I wished to make you my queen. There are no ulterior motives.”

But she hadn’t missed that everything he’d just said was in the past.

She narrowed her eyes.

“Look, Hades. If you don’t…want this anymore I need to know.”

Hades’ head jerked and he stared at her.

“What?”

Obviously, she wasn’t making sense. “If you don’t want me—if you don’t think you can forgive me, I don’t think we should be in a relationship, the Fates be damned.”

It was the first time Hades moved since he’d entered the room.

He took deliberate strides toward her and spoke as he moved.

“I never said I didn’t want you. I thought I made that clear yesterday.”

She rolled her eyes. “So, you want to fuck me? That doesn’t mean you want an actual relationship. It doesn’t mean you will trust me again.”

Hades stopped inches from her and narrowed his eyes. “Let me be perfectly clear. I do want to fuck you. More importantly, I love you—deeply, endlessly. If you walked away from me today, I would love you still. I will love you forever. That’s what Fate is, Persephone. Fuck threads and colors…and fuck your uncertainty.”

His bent closer to her as he spoke, his face inches from hers.

“I’m not uncertain,” she said. “I’m afraid, you idiot!”

“Of what? What have I done?”

“This isn’t about you! Gods, Hades. You’d think you of all people would understand.”

She turned her head away, unable to look at him.

After a moment, Hades spoke again, urging, “Tell me.”

Persephone’s mouth quivered. “I’ve longed for love all my life,” she said. “Longed for acceptance because my mother dangled it in front of me like something I had to earn. If I adhered to her expectations, she would grant it, if I didn’t, she’d take it away. You want a queen, a goddess, a lover. I can’t be what you want. I can’t…adhere to these…expectations you have of me!”

There was something freeing about saying all of that out loud. She suddenly felt lighter, like she’d let go of a boulder she’d been carrying on her back.

“Persephone—” Hades’ fingers pressed beneath her chin. She met his gaze. “What do you think of when you think of a queen?”

Persephone’s brows knitted together, and she shook her head as she admitted, “I don’t know. I know what I would like to see in a queen.”

“Then what would you like to see in a queen?”

“Someone who is kind…compassionate…present.”

Hades’ thumb brushed her lips. “And you do not think you are all those things?”

She didn’t answer, and Hades said, “I’m not asking you to be a queen. I’m asking you to be yourself. I’m asking you to marry me. The title comes with our marriage. It changes nothing.”

Persephone swallowed. “Are you asking me to marry you again?”

“Will you?”

Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t answer. For the last few weeks, she and Hades hadn’t exactly been on speaking terms. They had too much to reconcile. Her eyes watered, and tears streaked her face. Hades brushed them away.

“My darling, you do not have to answer now. We have time—an eternity.”

Their lips met—their kiss sinful and rough and desperate. Persephone felt feverish and frenzied. The adrenaline made her bold, and she reached into his pants, working his cock with her hand. Hades groaned, his teeth skimmed her bottom lip as he pulled away to explore her jaw and neck and breasts.

He looked stunned when she pushed him away. They stood apart for a moment, breathing hard, hot and wet and wild. Then Persephone planted a hand on his chest and directed him backward until the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Sit,” she commanded.

He did, and she held his gaze as she knelt before him. His eyes glitter like obsidian.

“You look like a fucking queen,” he said.

A corner of her mouth lifted. “I am your queen.”

She wrapped her hand around his length and stroked him from root to tip, her thumb moving lightly over the head of his cock.

“Persephone.”

He growled her name, and she took him into her mouth. Hades moaned, his fingers twining into her hair. She took him deep—to the back of her throat, and then into the side of her cheek. She paused to lick and suck, reveling in the taste of him.

“Yes,” he hissed. She could feel him growing thicker, pulsing, and when he came, she drank from him like she had never tasted anything so sweet. Hades drew her to her feet—he kissed her, possessed and paralyzed her. He left her dress in a puddle on the floor and guided her to his bed, divesting himself of his own clothes before covering her body.

He was warm and solid, and he fit against her like he was made for every contour of her body. As he loomed over her, she reached up and drew a piece of his silken hair around her finger.