Page 33 of His in the Dark

Yes. Idothink Persephone has eaten. If she hadn’t, she would not be capable of such a deep flush. She would be too weak to stand for as long as she has.

Perhaps she would eat out of my fingers. If not now, then soon.

I am not used to such powerful feelings of impatience, but Persephone inspires them in me.

Still, I keep them on a close leash. I want, very much, to run the pad of my thumb over the deep blush on her cheeks, but I do not. I bide my time, waiting, letting the tension between us increase.

I have not told anyone how strong it has become. I will not tell Persephone that, even now, a current pulls me to her. I am strong enough to resist…for the time being.

As much as I want to touch her, I want her to beg me first. I stand a short distance away, my guards behind me, just outside the door at either side of me, and wait.

Until Persephone lifts her eyes again, daring to meet mine for only a moment or two. It is a breathtaking sensation, and it is only her gaze connecting with mine. It feels like breathing deeply for the first time in months. It feels like bloodlust, only it is not a desire to kill or maim. I feel a deep desire for pleasure and to pleasure her in return.

“Your guards will escort us today.” I take one step nearer to her and watch her chest rise and fall faster, though she tries to hide it from me. Her instinct is to pull back initially. I despise it. She cannot hide anything from me. Not here. Not when I spend every waking moment thinking about the pink color on her cheeks and the curves of her body when she moves against me in her sleep. “Although I’m sure they are unneeded, given your state.”

The corner of Persephone's mouth twitches with disgust at my comment. Her eyes flicker down to the floor and to the left. She is ashamed, but she is angry as well. The two emotions warring in her are obvious.

Sheshouldbe ashamed for neglecting herself so. A Goddess such as Persephone, with so much power just outside of her reach, should be ashamed at her inability to see what I’moffering her. Her powerandmine. A crown for her head and a place at my side.

Though I must admit that I can admire her spirit. I admire her fight, even if I am certain she will lose. The game itself is … intriguing but not so much as the reward.

And what does it mean to lose? Persephone thinks it would be a great defeat, but I know better. It would be a triumph.

Closing the distance between us, I take another step. Persephone takes a long breath as if to steady herself. Her hands grip one another tightly, then relax.

She keeps her eyes lowered until I reach her and place two fingers underneath her chin. Persephone offers no resistance when I lift her face to mine. The heat of her skin against mine is everything, electrifying and alluring. I need more. More of her. More contact.

There is no resistance except for another flash of emotion in her eyes. Her lips tremble slightly, but she does not speak. I wait to see if my presence will compel her. If my eyes on hers are enough to break her. To bring the future tumbling in to meet us. To bringherfuture andherpower into their full, uninhibited form.

I can imagine the cries that would come from her mouth when she felt it. I can hear them reverberating in my memory as clearly as her screams, though I have not heard her impassioned moans.

I haven’t heard them yet. I have not drawn them out of heryet.

I will do so even if it requires sacrificing all of hell and burning it to the ground for her pleasure. Whatever her heart desires, I will discover it and I will bend the Underworld to her will.

Time passes slowly as I wait, inhaling the sweetness and warmth her skin creates against mine. Inhaling the flame-likeconnection between the two of us, burning invisibly through the air and binding us together as surely as the chains bind her to this realm.

I see,I want her to say.I see that this is not a cage, but a coronation. I see what it is to rule.

But she does not speak. I drop my hand to my side, and Persephone swallows, her head moving forward as if to capture my touch.

Victory. A small one, but a victory nonetheless.

“I do not deserve your anger,” I tell her. This is the truth, and it is time Persephone hears it.

“Are you not the God who took me in the night?” she snaps back, her voice clear and ringing. I do not care if the guards hear her words. They are loyal souls, and the plans of the Gods are not theirs to judge. Their tongues will not stay attached to them if they utter a word and they are aware of that.

“There are others that forced my hand.” Although I hesitate to confess such things, I add, “They would have hurt you.”

Her eyes narrow, darkening. “Lies.” The singular insult nearly hissed.

With my hackles raised, I respond easily, “I tell no lies, my queen.”

Her eyes flash once more atmy queen. Her teeth clench together, and then she bites at her bottom lip, stopping as quickly as she discovers herself doing so. The struggle she faces in her mind is clear in her expression.

Oh, it will be delicious to coax it out of her. She must feel it growing in her. She must know that she craves power, and even more so, she must know that she craves vengeance.

There are those who have betrayed Persephone, but she is not used to such impulses. She is not used to the resolve it requires to seek revenge that is well earned with a wrath deemed intolerable. It requires one to put aside the empathy they holdfor other people’s weakness. It requires a certain bloodthirsty yet righteous rage, and I have no doubt that if I nurture it in Persephone, it will create havoc on the Gods who have done this.

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