Page 58 of Hades and Persephone: Keeper of Sins

Sin. This is a sin.

Mom and Dad would be so disappointed.

Say yes.The echo of his words rattles inside me, warring against the teachings of my past. I still have my clothes on. I haven’t really sinned. Not yet.

And still, I’ve never experienced a moment so driven by sensation. I’ve never felt so alive. As thoughevery atom that crafts this body I possess has been fashioned to respond exclusively to this man. Hades.

God, I need him. I need his touch.

Say yes.I can do this. Heat flares inside my body. His touch is like liquid fire—magma against my flesh. The print of my hands streak against the obsidian slab of his desk as I push myself back into him. He’s so hot, and yet I crave this heat. My body aches for his hot touch. For the sear of his possession.

He’s so tall that when I push back into him, I feel the hardness of his arousal against my spine. My head falls into the crook of his broad chest, and when he dips his head, I feel the brush of his rough beard whispering over the skin of my temple.

Say yes.A whimper falls from my kiss swollen lips, and a sound of rough pleasure drips from the deep of him. I shudder against his body, my eyes sliding down to the hand that toys with my pink panties. A flutter of something quick and intense spreads in my chest at the sight. His hand is so big against me there. His skin so much darker, the burnished gold of his tan stark against the pale of my untouched skin. And his fingers—they aren’t the slender fingers of a boy-man. They are thick, veined, and rough with callouses. I feel that roughness when his thumb slides up and down in the space between navel and the apex of my thighs.

Warmth floods me, spilling into my panties at the sight of his big hand against me, claiming so much of me.

I can do this. More, I want to do this.With him.

Say yes.Three months. I have three months with this man before I’ll return home to Canada, and most likely never see him again. Three months to explore the woman I feel myself becoming with a man who has the life experience to know definitively who he is. Three months to feel everything that I want—need—to feel.

Three months…

“Say yes, Persephone.” The command in his voice paired with my own inner need renders me helpless to do anything but comply.

“Yes.” He looses a sound of pure male hunger, raw with need.

My knees buckle and I would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for the unending strength of his arms. One moment, I’m standing and the next his massive weight is pressing into my back, pressing me back to the desk. I ache to look at him, to watch his face as he does whatever it is he is going to do to me. But I can’t see him like this. Still, there’s something about the way his body covers mine against the desk, so big against my much smaller frame, that spills another burst of wet need into my panties.

He sucks in a breath as a deep rumble of pleasure sounds from him. I get a sharp moment of fear that he can smell my arousal, but I know such a thing is impossible and brush it off quickly. His hand pushes lower, beneath the band of my panties. I suck in airthat sears my scorched lungs, pushing my hips back. I’m not sure if I’m trying to give him room to touch me or if I’m trying to escape him—afraid of this unknown that is to come.

Either way, I am unprepared for the hardness of his arousal that meets my butt when I do. I am even less prepared for the way he grinds his hips into mine, the pipe tenting his pants pressing into the crease of my butt still covered by my shorts.

A low growl sounds from behind me, from over me, and his other hand is suddenly shoving at my shorts. Quick fear lashes at my innocent heart as my shorts fall to the floor around my ankles. No man has ever seen me naked.

I can do this. I want to do this. I’m just afraid.This is normal.

“Hades,” I gasp as he shoves his hips back into me. Fitting that hard pipe of arousal between my butt cheeks as he slides his hand deeper into the front of my panties to palm my sex.

He pulls in a breath through his teeth, releasing through his nose. It almost sounds like he’s practicing a calming technique, and my sex clenches at the thought that I could be driving this experienced man to the edge of his control in such a way he is forced to search for calm.

Yes, I want this. I want to drive him to the edge of control. I want him crazed with desire. I want to push him.

I don’t know who I am anymore. But these next three months are the perfect time to find myself, I decide.

I roll my hips back into him, delighted when he gifts me a deep groan of tortured need. I want more.I am ravenous.

“You’re so wet for me, Persephone.” His voice is dark, bursting with spilled shadows as he presses his lips into the skin of my shoulder. I feel teeth slide over me as he pushes a single finger between my slit, gliding easily in the wet between my legs. He groans. “So warm.”

My breath hitches and I bite down on my lip to keep the sound of pleasure and new sensation from escaping as Hades finds my clit with the pad of his finger, rolling over and around it until I am confident I’m going to die from sensation overload.

“I—” I gasp. “Hades, I can’t?—”

My hands slide over the surface of the desk, searching for something to hold onto—to cling to as he strokes my core with two fingers now. His fingertips tease my entrance, sliding back to my clit, circling and stroking down again. He does this for what feels like eternity, and entirely not long enough.

When I’m gasping and panting, sweat clinging like dew on my skin, bones trembling and weak with need, Hades hooks me with an arm around my torso, under the breasts that heave with heavy breaths. He holds me against him, hot breaths spilling over my shoulderand between my breasts as he watches his hand move in my panties.

He speaks something in a language I don’t know, but somehow feels familiar. It’s filled with hot, dark heat that ignites my boiling blood with deeper, more persistent need.

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