Page 50 of Hades and Persephone: Keeper of Sins

I frown, sitting back in my chair. “Why does it feel like you know so much more about me than I know about you, Hades?”

“Because I prefer to talk about you, Persephone.”

I hate that his words set off fireworks inside me. I hate that I love the sound of his rough voice, and ache in the dark of the night to know what it would feel like to have his voice whispering, rough and hungry across my naked flesh.

Alarmed, I sit up straight in my seat. I shake the vision from my mind and wish I could shake the sting of red that tints my skin in the same way. I can’t.

“You’re blushing,” Hades notes.

“Am I?” I play daft, nibbling on another shrimp.

“You are.” He studies me. It only makes me hotter. “Why?”

“No reason.”

“There’s always a reason.”

I challenge his gaze with my own. “Maybe I don’t want to tell you.”

“Why?”

I nibble the corner of my lip. “Maybe it’s private.”

“Well, now my interest is piqued. You have to share.”

I feel breathless. “I don’t.”

Hades leans into the table, the scent of himinvading my space like I wish he would invade my body. God, what is wrong with me? When did I become so—sex-crazed?

And what is it about this man that makes me want to offer every inch of myself to him? What is it about him that makes me long to shatter my innocence?

“Persephone.”God, the way he says my name.With the hint of threat wrapped up in decadent warning dipped in a delicious dare.

I shift in my seat, desperate to relieve the pressure I feel between my legs.

Hades’ nostrils flare.

My heart thunders.

I swear, I see fire in his eyes.

Forgetting the bustling restaurant around us, I decide to enter this game he wants me to play. I take him up on his dare. But first, I lift my water to my lips, swallowing deep and licking the cool drops from the edge of the glass. Hunger flares in his eyes.

I’m playing with fire.

The man is far more experienced than me in the art of seduction.

But I want this. Him. Us. Shattered innocence and that rough whisper against the soft of my skin.

What if I did this with him? What if I gave him me these next months?

It wouldn’t have to mean anything more than what it is. I’d be sure to keep my heart firmly in check. Under lockdown. But I’m going tobe twenty next spring. I’m nineteen now, a woman. Young, yes. But a woman all the same.

I know what I want. This isn’t a conclusion I’ve come to quickly. It’s been a build-up of need and desire for weeks. This is not impulse. I’ve dreamed of him. Fantasized and hungered. I’ve worked through the guilt of it, the improperness and the disappointment my parents would feel knowing I had been with a man so much older.

So, they don’t have to know.

I can do this with Hades. Have a summer fling. I can explore myself as I explore him. And then I can return to my life back home in Alberta.

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