Page 44 of Queen of the Underworld

His queen.

She shook her head, dislodging those thoughts. She was just caught up in her captor, and maybe she wanted to rebel a little. It seemed like a reasonable excuse for the way her body was heating and that wicked ache was building inside her, making her breasts feel heavy and the apex of her thighs tingle. She wanted to rebel against her mother and what better way was there than to seduce the dark god-king of the Underworld?

“Seduce?” She swallowed and gave another hard shake of her head, but that word remained lodged in it, the wicked images it conjured turning the heat in her veins into an inferno.

One that had her fingers tracing down from her neck to the valley between her aching breasts.

Could she seduce Hades?

Not surrender to him, but seduce him?

He would steal control and take all of her. It would be too dangerous. He was too dark, turned too easily, and thought he could take what he wanted without any regard for what she wanted. He was too used to being a king—a ruler—issuing orders and having people obey.

He would do the same with her.

She didn’t want that.

She didn’t want to be another possession to him, or another subordinate. She wanted to be more. Did Hades even know what he wanted when he said she was his queen? Did he simply desire one because his brothers had theirs, because he thought taking her from Olympus would strike a blow at his brother, or did he want one because he recognised that he was lonely? In either case, did he want her to be his queen because he felt she could serve him well, or because he felt something for her?

She rubbed her head, trying to stave off a headache. If he just wanted a queen, then he could find another for the position. If he wanted her—truly wanted her—then he was going to have to work for her heart and she wasn’t going to make it easy.

He would need to change and learn to control his darkness.

She wasn’t sure that would be easy for him. This world of darkness had seeped into his soul to blacken it, transforming him into a male everyone feared, one who was quick to rage and thought everyone should obey him. His soldiers respected him, but it was done out of fear. People prayed to him, but it wasn’t done with love—but fear.

Everyone feared Hades.

Except her.

She had seen past the veil, through his mask to the other side. She had glimpsed his pain. His loneliness. It echoed the one inside her. She would draw that pain up, would ease that loneliness, and show him that he wasn’t alone and he wasn’t unloved, and that there was someone in this world who understood him and didn’t fear him. There was someone in this world who could see past the stories told about him to the male he really was.

She had never felt useful before, had never felt anyone would want her help, or that she could even really help someone. Everyone always ended up looking to her mother instead of her.

But she felt she could help Hades.

And she wanted to help him.

Shewouldhelp him.

It wasn’t going to be easy. It would be dangerous and a battle she might lose, but for the first time in her life, she was going to fight.

Because her heart whispered Hades might be worth it.

What would he be like tonight at dinner? The almost-gentle male or the darkly demanding one?

Her finger drifted lower as the ache built and she couldn’t stop herself from imagining his breath against her nape, his mouth close to her ear, and his hands caressing her flesh. She tried to curb her desire, but he wouldn’t leave her mind, and a mischievous part of her whispered that it would be better to face Hades with her lusts sated so he couldn’t see the heat of them in her eyes and act upon them.

Her cheeks flamed at the thought of touching herself—flaring hotter than the sun as she thought about touching herself while thinking of him—but curiosity had her finger skimming lower and lower.

She had never felt pleasure before, even by her own hand. She had never felt the heat of desire, so she had never really thought about exploring her own body. But now she was curious and aroused, and very alone. She glanced around, poking her head over the sides of the tub to make sure that was still the case, and her thoughts turned even more wicked.

What if Hades returned and caught her pleasuring herself?

What would he do?

Her eyes slipped shut and she imagined him striding towards her, a stricken and hungry look on his face, his blue eyes wide as he watched her hands. She cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of them, and stifled the cry that wanted to leave her lips as she brushed her hard nipples. Sparks shot through her body, like tiny bolts of lightning, and she did it again, a gasp leaving her as they grew more intense. By the gods! She arched her spine and her hands became Hades’s hands, the side of the tub behind her becoming the hard planes of his chest. She moaned as he cupped her breasts, as he thumbed the peaks and dropped his lips to her throat, sending shivers dancing down her spine.

His fangs scraped her delicate skin and she shivered at the feel of them and the threat of them piercing her flesh, and arousal pulsed through her, powerful and shocking, at the thought of him biting her. She wanted it. It was wrong of her on so many levels, but she wanted his fangs in her throat, holding her in place as he explored her.

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