Page 99 of Hades and Persephone: Crown of Souls

“Please,” she cries out, and then her lips are on mine.

I kiss her, devouring her mouth and whimpers as I pull her from the bed. If I crawl into the bed in this form, the entire thing will go up in smoke.

She clings to me, her legs wrapping around my waist as I walk her to the bathroom. The little streams of blue aragonite that have been cut into the polished black stone of the floor sizzle and steam as I step over them. Even the water repels my Gods’ Form. How she clings to me, intact, is something I will never explain.

I redirect from the warm pool to the cold pool in the back of the room. The light that stretches from the raw aragonite chandelier is dimmer here, and I lay her down on the smooth stone that angles into a small, shallow pool of ice-cold water.

She doesn’t seem to feel the icy cold as I lay her in the shallow water. Her head is nearly all the way out, but the water is deeper by our hips, nearly covering her completely while I am mostly still exposed to the air.

My lips find hers again, seeking connection in this form that has never known connection like this before. I could change back. Could morph from beast to man. It would be easier for her, no doubt. But I can’t deny the need that pulses alive inside me now to take her like this. Raw. As I’ve never had her before.

She moans a breathy plea, her hands roaming over my body until that tightly wound need in her has me twisted up in the same vicious demand. Sanity winks in and out as her scent overwhelms me. I push her legs apart to settle myself inside, the weight of my cock falling against the warm wetness between her legs.

My rumble of dark pleasure wraps around the delicate plea of her soft moan. Cocooning it, capturing it as I’ve captured her heart. Teasing me with her very soul.

She rocks her hips, stroking my need with her own as I battle with my restraint. My body shakes as I hold myself up over her, bracing my weight so that I do not crush her in this form.

She’s so tiny.

“Hades,” she gasps, her mouth crashes against mine before she can speak anything more. I kiss her mouth the way I want to fuck her pussy. Roughly. Deeply. Possessively.

She moans into me, and I feel seed leaking from my tip to coat her sex. Desperation and hunger rage inside me as I work to move slowly. I don’t want to hurt her.

She is so soft.

“I need—” Her words are choppy. “I need you, Hades.”

Another dark rumble vibrates from the deep of me to invade our kiss. She sucks in a sharp breath as I shift my lips from hers, my fangs dragging carefully over the tender flesh of her very human skin.

Familiar, ancient pressure begins to pulse within my fangs. I reject the temptation of the ritual that would bind her soul to me for eternal protection.

I can’t?—

I haven’t even spoken to her about it.

She rocks her core against my aching length. Two ancient needs war within me. To fuck and claim. To bind.

Shards of sanity thorn into the swirling chaos of my madness to take all that she is and make every part of her mine. Those shards are the only thing that keeps me from sinking my fangs with their ancient venom into the delicate flesh of her throat. The only thing that keeps me from attempting to force an eternal bond. From an act that would only ensure I live wrapped in a regret I already know so well.

No, she needs to be willing.

If she is not willing, the bond will not take. Not properly. It will sour and turn brittle. In the end, it could very well be our undoing.

I swallow the venom that leaks from the tips of my fangs as I bury my sealed lips against her throat, inhaling the scent of her through my nose. She both calms the madness and inspires it.

“Hades,” she cries out again as I stroke her core with my tip. She’s so wet now, so swollen with need. “Please. I need you inside me.”

And I need your soul.

Pulling my face from the nook of her neck, I look deep into green eyes I could sink into and drown in. I bracket my weight with my forearm in the stone, palming the back of her head gently with my massive, taloned mitt.

The words to beg for her soul are on the tip of my tongue, but that is where they remain as I line myself with her hot entrance and begin to push.

A prickle of heat erupts over my form, swirling in the magma that veins the black of my flesh. Her mouth parts in a shocked O as I push again, stretching, invading.

She is so tight.

Her little pussy grips me in a vice that threatens to suck me dry, and she whimpers again.

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