Page 71 of Hades and Persephone: Threads of Fate

I sob harder, burying my face in the wet warmth of his chest, inhaling his scent and willing myself to forget.

But the images are seared there, like a scar on my mind. A scar no ointment can heal, no laser can burn away.

My body begins to shake. Or maybe it’s always been shaking, I’m not sure. I only know Hades holds me tighter, refusing to let go even as he asks, “What happened, Persephone?”

“I don’t know,” I lie.How can I tell him this truth?

I don’t understand it myself. How I keep seeing myself as this dark Queen, daughter of Demeter, and unloved concubine to Hades.

“Talk to me,” he begs, but I shake my head as I claw deeper into the safety of his embrace. I can’t get close enough to him. Can’t fully sink myself into the net of safety the dark danger that emanates from the man provides me.

“Why are you wet?” Somehow, I’ve stopped the flow of my tears even though I can’t quite defeat the tremble that rattles my limbs.

“Went for a swim.” He speaks the words into my naked shoulder. “You were asleep.”

I laugh, but the sound is unhinged. “I wasn’t asleep, I was passed out.”

Hades looses a tense chuckle, his big hands spreading over my naked back. “Will you tell me what you dreamed? What scared you so much?”

The nightmare flashes in my mind, and I answer with the rawest honesty I am able to give him. “I dreamed I lost you.”

His hands pulse against my back, pressing me deeper into his broad chest. Against my breast, I can feel the violent thunder of his heartbeat.

I wrap my arms around him, letting my lips drift over the wet warmth of his neck and tasting the salt of the sea. He inhales a sharp breath, his hands moving to my waist and holding me in place even as I spread my legs around his, aching to be closer, to sink into the safety ofhim.

“Please,” I whisper against the salty warmth of his throat, his jaw. “Please, Hades.”

“Please what, little goddess?” His voice is rough with gravel.

“Make me forget,” I plead, the irony of my nightmare of drowning in the Lethe not lost on me. “I want to feel safe.”

“You are safe,” he vows. “I will protect you, always.”

I touch my lips to his and he captures my mouth in a kiss, devouring my hesitancy as he invades me withhis tongue the way I wish he would invade me with his body. My own body begins to warm, the heat beginning in the marrow of my bones and quickly radiating outward to the flesh that presses against his.

He groans into my mouth, a hot spill of need tasting of fractured restraint. I open to him, deepening the kiss even as I spread my legs over his lap, sinking low. When my core meets with the hard swell of his cock, he rips his mouth from mine to shove me back into the bed. I think he’s going to leave me there, but he doesn’t. Instead, he falls between my legs, careful not to give me his weight, as he slams his mouth to mine once again.

The kiss is brutal, verging on violent. It’s tongue and teeth and possession. His hands roam my body as mine roam his. Under my fingertips, his muscles ripple and quiver. His hair is wet where it’s tied back at the nape of his neck, and I graze it with my fingertips as I run my nails down the length of his back. He hisses in through his teeth, dropping blazing kisses down the length of my neck and over my chest before he comes back to my mouth. He nips my lip and swallows my moan, his tongue sweeping over mine as he devours the remnants of the nightmare that threatens to cling to me.

“Please, Hades,” I beg. I’ll beg for forever if that’s what it takes.

His low growl is a sound of broken will that sparksthe wick of hope inside me. When he rears back on his knees between my legs, I hook his shorts with my fingertips. He freezes. Shadows twist in the flames that dance in the depths of his eyes. I tug them down his thick thighs, revealing the swollen length of his arousal.

He’s so big, I have to swallow the quick fear that spills inside me.

Determined to have him. To have himtake me, I don’t wait for permission to drive him to the edge of his control.

I wrap my hand around him, shocked at the heat that threatens to burn my palm. I stroke, watching as his eyes burn and a low hiss whistles between clenched teeth. My hand moves up to the tip, where I let the pad of my thumb slide over his slit, watching as he fights a twitch, before stroking down to the base.

He makes a low sound in a language I don’t recognize. I’m sure it’s a curse, but it might be a prayer. I continue to stroke him just like that, slow and maddening, until he catches my wrist in his hand.

“Please, Hades,” I say again, my eyes on his. “I want to feel you.”

“Feel me?” I’ve stripped his voice raw with want, and I love the sound.

Emboldened—determined to tempt him beyond his ability to deny me—I spread my legs wide and lay back in the bed. His gaze feasts on me, filling me with a need that burns inmy bones.

“I want to feel you here.” I touch myself between my legs, letting my fingertips drift featherlight over my core. Then I sink a single finger deep into my center, my breath hitching on a strangled moan. “And here.”

---