Neon Gods (Dark Olympus #1)(101)
She’s a little wobbly as I help her up and guide her into the position I want, bent over the chair back. I nudge her feet wider and step back to get a good look at her.
Fuck.
The trust this woman places in me. It makes me want to be a better man, to ensure I never fail her. She shivers, and I close the distance between us, smoothing my hands over her ass and down her back. “Ready?”
“Oh my gods, just fuck me already.”
A chuckle moves through the room in a wave, multiple voices joining mine in response to her. I give her ass a light smack. “Impatient.”
“Yes. Very.” She wiggles a little. “Please, Hades. Don’t make me wait any longer. I need you.”
In the end, I don’t want to tease her any more than she wants to be teased. Another time, perhaps. The need is riding too high tonight. I free my cock and grip her hip as I guide my length into her. Persephone lets out a low moan that almost masks my sharp exhale.
I’ll never get tired of this, either. The way she clamps around me as if she never wants to let me go. How she pushes back against me, needing me as deep as possible. Her little whimpers and moans.
The rest of the room might think they’re getting access to this, too, but their only role here tonight is to amplify her pleasure.
I reach down and wrap her hair around my fist, tugging until she looks up into the darkness surrounding the dais. “They’re watching. Greedy for whatever bits of you we’ll allow. Tonight, they’ll be chasing their pleasure to the memory of me fucking you.”
“Good,” she moans. “Harder.”
I give a rough laugh and obey. Fucking her in harsh strokes even as I hold her in place. There’s no hiding from the fact that we’re on display, and from the way she clenches around me, she’s loving every moment of it.
And then she’s orgasming, her cries sharp and needy. It takes everything I have not to follow her over the edge, but tonight is about her. Not about me. I take a slow breath and ease out of her so I can tuck my cock back into my pants. Then I pull her up and toss her over my shoulder. Persephone’s squeal has me biting back a grin. I turn in a slow circle. “I hope you enjoyed the show. It’s over now.”
“We did!” Someone from the audience shouts. It sounds a bit like Hermes.
I shake my head and climb off the dais, Persephone’s laughter trailing behind us. She sounds so fucking happy, the sound a perfect match to the warmth in my chest. I stride to the throne and sink onto it.
This is our kingdom, our throne, ours.
Persephone’s still laughing a little as she arranges herself on my lap. “‘I hope you enjoyed the show. It’s over now.’ Really?”
“Succinct and to the point.”
“Mm-hmm.” She shifts to straddle me. “I was going to suggest a second throne down here.”
I grip her hips lightly, letting her guide this. “The person who created this one still lives in the lower city. I can commission a second if you’d like.”
“No.” She palms me through my pants. “I like sharing. It gives me access to you.” Persephone leans down until her lips brush my ear. “Did you hold off coming so I could fuck you on this throne, Hades?”
“Yes.”
She laughs again. Gods, I love her laugh. “Insatiable.”
“Only for you.” I smooth my hands up her sides. “I love you, little siren.”
“I love you, too.” She kisses me, a slow, decadent kiss that makes the room spin away for several long moments. Persephone digs her hands into my hair and grins against my lips. “And it’s a good thing you’re just as insatiable as I am, because I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”
Coming Soon:
Electric Idol
“Bring me her heart.”
“Yes, you said that already.” I don’t look up from my phone as my mother paces from one side of the room to the other, her skirt swishing about her legs. Knowing her, she chose her clothing today in order to maximize her dramatic flouncing.
She’s nothing if not a showwoman.
“And yet you’re still sitting here.” She spins on her tall heel and glares down at me. She’s fifty, and though she’d skin me alive for saying as much in public, no wrinkle or gray hair betrays her. She spends a fortune to keep her skin smooth and her hair a perfect icy blond. Not to mention the countless hours with her personal trainer to accomplish a body twenty--year--olds would kill for. All in the name of her title, Aphrodite. When one has the role of the goddess of love, one must meet certain expectations.
It’s unfortunate for everyone that my mother takes replicating the original Aphrodite’s reputation to heart. The goddess wasn’t exactly known for her even temperament, after all, and my mother is even worse than her namesake.
“Eros, put down that goddamned phone and listen to me.”
“I’m listening.” My bored tone betrays my waning patience, but I’d like to fast forward past all the dramatics to where she tells me what she wants done and I take care of it so she can keep her hands lily white. “You’re going to have to be more specific, Mother. Do you literally want her heart?”
She makes a sound suspiciously like a hiss. “You are such a little shit. Call me by my title or nothing at all.” This is the Aphrodite she doesn’t show anyone else in Olympus. Only I get the dubious privilege of witnessing what a monster my mother truly is.