Page 50 of His in the Dark

My grasp on the thoughts I had prior to stepping into this room slips away as Persephone guides her gown over her hips and lets it fall to the floor. It seems to fall forever—for as long as I was trapped in the dark, at least—and then finally the fabric lands.

It no longer touches her.

There is nothing between us but air and crackling tension.

Persephone shifts her weight, lifting her hands to let her hair fall back over her shoulders. Almost no part of her is obscured from me now, save the shadows between her thighs, hiding the soft warmth. What little firelight comes from behind me seems to caress her skin.

I find myself jealous of that firelight. I find myself wishing there was nothing but darkness between us, and that the space itself was nothing.

Persephone lowers her eyes, then brings them back to mine. “Do what you want to me,” she says easily. She nearly whispers, “Have your fill.”

The air between us is thicker than it's ever been, humming with a sort of desperate tension. Is that coming from her or coming from me?

Her chest rises and falls with her quickening breath and I’m entranced. I cannot deny it.

I take a step toward her, then another, unable to keep myself away. But I do not throw her down on the bed, though I pine for touch too.

Instead, I lift my hand to the side of her neck and stroke my fingers along that fluttering pulse of hers, putting a bit of magic behind my touch. For her to feel what I feel. For her to know her power over me.

Persephone takes a quick breath, and I put more magic in that light, teasing touch. A flame bursts from my fingers. It will not hurt her. It will not burn her. It will sensitize her skin. It will make her come alive in ways I’m certain she has not felt.

She gasps aloud this time. Persephone can feel it—I have no doubt. She can feel my power in the form of fire dancing along her skin and flowing into her veins.

The darkest parts of me beg my body to fall to my knees and worship her, but I do not. I resist the weakness inside of me that craves her companionship.

I circle her, gracing my fingertips along the curve of her shoulder, and then the dip at the base of her spine, little flickers of flame and power. The shivers and goosebumps that follow in the wake of my touch have a delicate beauty to them. As does the soft gasp and scent of her arousal. She pines for me as I for her.

When I arrive back at Persephone's front, her nipples are peaked, and she's clasped her hands in front of her. I touch each one of her knuckles in turn. Persephone flips her hands over so her palms are up, and I give the center of each hand a lick of the fire.

Her pupils have gone wide with darkness. She looks up at me, her lips parted, her breath coming fast and more shallow than it was before.

The tension is still strong. She’s still holding tight to the confidence she found while I was away.

But her desire is growing stronger. Or else that ismydesire growing stronger. It is becoming impossible to tell the difference.

I choose the former for the sake of my sanity.

I put the pad of my middle finger between her breasts and draw it down over the naked flesh of her stomach. Her belly contracts slightly as I skim my fingertip over her belly button, and then—slowly—travel lower.

Persephone is the one who moves in first. She steps closer, one hand rising to the collar of my robe. She curls her fingers around it and holds on, and then—then—she inches her feet apart, spreading her thighs.

My cock aches and every muscle in my body tenses with the need for more.

I let my head lean forward and inhale the scent of her hair. Persephone is already in need. Her arousal evident from her flush and the manner in which she trembles before me.

Slowly, with a gentle touch, I explore her folds, finding her wet, welcoming opening and teasing just so. Persephone does not close her thighs. I circle that place, my cock growing hard and impatient.

Instead, I move my fingers back up through her sweetness and find her swollen clit.

Persephone’s lips part with a gasp when my fingers settle over that place, her thighs trembling around my hand in an effort to stay open for me. A few light circles is all it takes to have her panting and holding onto my collar with more force. The pull in the air between us grows stronger as Persephone gasps, and then?—

Then there is magic in the air, as if it was always with her, but could not be found. Persephone cries out, her legs barely holding her upright. I tease her clit as she finds her pleasure, then slide my fingers back down and push them inside her to feel the flutters and clenches of her release.

“Oh,” she breathes. “Hades—” The sound of my name on her lips is divine.

She clenches down hard on my fingers, her orgasm heightened and extended.

I withdraw my fingers and find her clit with the pad of my thumb.

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