Neon Gods (Dark Olympus #1)(31)
She nods. “I already said I did.”
I concentrate on moving slowly, because the alternative is to fall on her like a starving creature and undo all the fragile trust I’ve built. She’s soft and wet and hot as fuck. I work two fingers into her and she lets loose the most delicious whimpering sound and clamps around me. I explore her slowly, looking for that spot that will make her go molten, but it’s not enough. I need to see her. See all of her.
Soon.
I reach down with my free hand and hook her thigh, lifting it and spreading her wide to give me better access. Putting her on display for an audience of none. I’ve always liked to play publicly, and I can’t deny how intensely I anticipate claiming her like this in front of a crowded room. Her response tonight indicates that she’ll get off on it just as hard as I will.
I stroke her clit with my thumb, experimenting until I find the right motion that has her whole body going tight. I lean down until my lips brush her ear. “Tomorrow night, this room will be filled with people. Everyone showing up to get a look at your pretty pussy, to hear how sweetly I can make you come.”
“Oh, gods.”
“Will you put on a good show for them, Persephone?” I can’t help dragging my mouth along her neck. It’s like the realization that I can touch her however I want, that she’s dancing on the edge of orgasm, that she wants more… It’s finally hitting me. This woman is mine, even if it’s only for a few months. It’s heady knowledge.
“Hades, please.”
I go still, and she tries to roll her hips to keep fucking my fingers. That earns her a nip on her shoulder. “Please what? Be explicit.”
“Make me come.” Her inhale is ragged. “Kiss me. Fuck me. Just don’t stop.”
“I won’t stop.” My words come out as a growl, but I don’t give a damn. I kiss Persephone and resume driving her toward orgasm. She still tastes like summertime. I want to wrap her up and keep her safe. I want to fuck her until all her masks shatter and she cries as she comes around my cock.
I want.
As much as I intended to draw this moment out, we’re both dancing on the edge of control. I press the heel of my hand against her clit, giving her that extra bit of friction. She moans, breathy and low, and I’d give anything to hear her make that sound again. To know that I’m the one causing it. “Let go. I’ve got you.” I move back to her neck, kissing her as she writhes against me. Her breath comes in harsh pants and then she tips over the edge, her pussy clamping around my fingers as she orgasms.
I gentle my touch, towing her back to earth even as I lift my head. Persephone shivers in my arms, leaning against me and letting me carry her weight in a way that indicates a trust I don’t deserve. I ease her leg back down, but I can’t quite help kissing her neck one last time. We haven’t even had sex and I’m already craving the feeling of her in my arms, her taste on my tongue, with a desire bordering on frenzy.
I have to close my eyes for several long moments to fight down the impulse to lay her down on this dais and fuck her now. The reasons why I shouldn’t feel flimsy as spiderwebs, easy enough to tear through without a second thought.
Not yet.
It takes effort to lock myself down, to retreat behind the cold mask that usually feels more natural than my actual self. I shift back from Persephone, keeping a hand on her hip in case she wobbles. She doesn’t. Naturally.
I ignore her questioning look as she turns to face me. I can barely look at her for fear that the need coursing through me will take control, so I scoop up the discarded dress and drag it over her head. She gives a muffled curse but manages to get her arms in the proper place and pull it the rest of the way down her body. It was a tantalizing tease even before I knew everything that lay beneath it. Now I have to concentrate to keep myself on task. It would be so easy to fall into this woman and spend the rest of the night learning what I can do to draw those delicious whimpers from her lips. To memorize the taste and feel of her until I’m imprinted on her skin.
Impossible. If I give an inch, Persephone will run a mile with it. I may not know her well, but I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt. This woman is no blushing princess in a tower. She’s a goddamn shark, and she’ll attempt to top from the bottom if given half a chance.
My reputation, my power, my ability to protect the people in the lower city, they all depend on me being the biggest, baddest motherfucker this side of the River Styx. That reputation is the reason I don’t have to bloody my hands; everyone is too scared to test me.
If a pretty upper-city socialite starts leading me around by the cock, that will jeopardize everything I’ve spent my entire life fighting for.
I can’t allow it.
I scoop her into my arms. For such a big personality, she feels so small when I hold her like this. That sends protective instincts I thought nonexistent rising to the surface. With each step toward the door, it’s easier to ignore my body’s demand for her. I have a plan, and I’m sticking to it. End of story.
Persephone leans her head against my shoulder and looks up at me. “Hades?”
I sense the trap, but I couldn’t ignore this woman if I wanted to. “Yeah?”
“I know you have this plan for tonight and tomorrow.”
“Mm-hmm.” I open the door and pause to ensure it’s closed firmly behind us. Then I start down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. Five minutes and we’ll be back in her room so I can get a little distance between us.