Page 32 of His in the Dark

Color that is not from crying or raging or screaming. It would be the smallest sign of her acceptance. It would be the smallest sign of her submission. And my condemned soul relishes in her submission. Every little piece of it.

And I cannot put into words how dearly I want it. I cannot say how much I need to see her submission before my eyes.

I know she ate before. The plate was empty when I woke, the delicate pastries no more. Persephone slept on the pillow, unaware that she had stayed in the bed next to me all through the night.

I did not wake her to tell her I’d discovered her betrayal. That’s how she will think of it. A betrayal to herself. She tried to keep herself away, and she could not. My failing is my inexperience. I’m not accustomed to company.

If that is betrayal, I am greedy for more of it. I need to take her to that betrayal with my hand in her hair, my grip so strong that she finally understands who has the power in my realm and whocouldhave the power, if only?—

I cannot think of thisif only.It is a mistake.

So I do not make that mistake. Instead I pause for another second, giving her time to arrange herself.

The two guards outside my bedchambers keep their attention carefully away. This weakness of mine… her existence, is more than evident I’m sure. I do not keep them here to notice such things, and neither of them breathes a word.

With desire ringing in my blood, I open the heavy door and stride in.

Persephone isn’t sitting on the plush rug I’ve offered for comfort, as she has been. She stands in the center, her hands folded in front of her and her head bowed. She’s quiet and submissive, even in her stillness. That is not what I expected of such a strong goddess.

My cock hardens from the sight as I enter but keep the door open. Questions riddling my mind as I memorize her position. The thin silk fabric draped delicately over her curves.

Fucking gorgeous. But I do not trust it.

I didn’t expect her to break so quickly. From how she struggled and wept, I thought it would take longer. Years perhaps. Decades. An amount of time that would try my patiencealthough forthis, forher, I’ve done everything I can to be patient.

My pulse beats at the sight of her standing there. She could be a queen, still. Could be strong, still. Could be a goddess, still.

She will. I’ll not live in a world where she does not reign beside me righteously and with the same powers as I.

Still, this presentation is … more delicious than the wine I offered her.

She's beautiful, with a little color to her cheeks. Her long lashes are downcast, brushing against high cheekbones. Her full lips are no longer so dry and cracked as they were.

It brings me to my next offering for her. The sexual pleasure I’m aware she’s … not familiar with. I will fix it. I will tempt her. I will educate her as well.

“Persephone,” I say. Her eyes flick up to meet me. I hold up a hand and gesture to the guards at my side. “If you are ever tempted and I am not here there are men outside the door who could satisfy other needs…”

I let the suggestion hang in the air. In the silence, a revulsion twists in my gut. It sickens me to think of her indulging herself with another man, but such measures are necessary. Persephone cannot be allowed to think she is here to be worn to nothing. I want her to play… even in my absence. The thought of men with her, pleasing her, softening and warming her, it gave me great pleasure before this moment. But as the words escape, I question them. What possessiveness has come over me that I would selfishly hold her to a standard I do not express myself?

The only part of her I wish to break is her willful resistance to her own power. I want Persephone to be free of the lies others have told her. I want her to be free to dwell in her power.

I want her craving the pleasure I intend to give her. If she does not crave me at this moment, she may crave others.

For a moment, Persephone does not understand. She looks at me, her eyes wide, confusion darkening their color.

Then my offer becomes apparent, and a fresh blush spreads across her cheeks.

“I offer myself,” one of my guards says, his voice calm and quiet, though of course I can hear the arousal underneath his breath. Anger bristles through me. Who would not be aroused by my Persephone? A gorgeous Goddess or rare balance. It would be a rare person indeed. He does not step forward, but he is ready—if I gave the order, he would be with her in moments.

Dressed in armor, their presence is for protection but her desires are to be met with enthusiasm, my orders.

"No," Persephone says quickly almost with shock as well as fear, then clears her throat. I give no sign of how this pleases me to hear of their denial but still the thought lingers, she is not educated in the pleasures of flesh.

Is this because Persephone has decided to submit to me? Is it because, in her most secret heart, she has given into her desires? I do not know, but I do not give any sign of my speeding heart, nor the flicker of pleasure I feel at her words. "No, thank you, but no."

“The offer stands if you change your mind,” I state easily although every nerve ending in me lights aflame. I need her to desire these things.

She casts her eyes back to the floor and swallows hard. Minox I believe was right in his suggestion. After all, the offerings have been accepted in her loneliness.

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