Eight
Persephone
I am havinga hard time picturing this event as one for a hospital. Everything is done in glittering golds and endless black. The roofs are high and the lights are low. The live band plays songs I don’t recognize in melodies that are easy to move to, though I don’t understand the words. People swirl on the dance floor in gowns that are extravagant in a way that I’ve never seen before.
To say I’m overstimulated is an understatement.
I lean closer to Hades. “This is insane.”
He lowers until his gravelly voice whispers against my ear. “The wealthy often are.”
Like every time Hades speaks with his lips so close to my skin, I shiver. I can’t help myself. I can’t get a handle on the way he affects me. I’d thought that letting myself be with him, letting myself experience the forbidden pleasure that is him, I would be less tempted.
It’s been the opposite. I’m even more tempted. More hungry for him.
Every time he kisses me, I feel him deeper inside me.
Every time he touches me, I’m left craving more.
I don’t understand how I’m going to walk away from him when this affair is over. I am going to be in ruins, like the temples I spend my days uncovering. Like them, I’ll be caught in an eternity of despair for what once was.
Hades leads me to a large round table where a gentleman in a black suit fills our glasses with champagne. People continue to dance, and Hades leans in close. “You look uncomfortable.”
I’ve never worn a dress like this. For one thing, Mom would lose it over this slit. Dad’s head would spin, because the dress fits like a second skin.
“I’m fine.” I glance down at the black satin that clings to my body. The slit is wide enough to show my leg all the way to my hip. Even though the material pools to the floor, I feel half undressed.
Hades’ eyes drag the length of mybody. Heat flares in the deep of my belly, mirroring the blaze I see in his eyes. “Is it the dress?”
“I’ve never worn anything like it.”
“You are beautiful,” Hades murmurs, stealing my breath. His hand moves from the table to my lap. My heart skips at least an entire sequence of beats when his large hand curls around my thigh—the thigh left exposed by the slit.It’s such a possessive touch.
His fingertips dip between my legs, traveling higher. A shiver breaks out over the entirety of me, and my breath catches. My lungs burn as I gasp, “Hades.”
“Relax,” he purrs.
“I can’t,” I pant. “Not when you’re touching me like that.”
“Like what?”
God, my face is on fire.I’m going to burst into flames right here, right now. I hiss, “Likethis.”
Hades leans in to wrap me in woodsmoke and sin. His voice is as deliciously dark as his words. “How do you want me to touch you?”
My eyes connect with his. Opalescent obsidian and emerald clash.
My breath doesn’t catch. It is simply gone.
“I want you to touch me in a way that the whole world falls away.”
I’m not sure, but I think a low growl climbs up from the depths of him to invade the beauty of this ballroom. His hand stops moving on my thigh, his griptightening. In my lungs, the air is seized. For a moment, it’s just the two of us.
In a whisper, I call his name, “Hades.”
He blinks. There is a dangerous lilt to his words when he murmurs low, “You tempt me.”
“Good.” I rise to the challenge.