Page 85 of Where Darkness Bloomed
Just as she thought she would break, he shifted. His forearms braced against her thighs, holding her open, immobile. With slow possession, one finger slid inside her. It curled just as his thumb pressed gently, precisely. Right where she needed.
The breath she’d been holding spilled out in a ragged sound against his neck, her hips rolling into his hand.
Another finger joined, filling her as she buried her face against histhroat. His palm pressed low, fingers plunging and a sharp cry broke from her, hips bucking.
Breath hissed between his teeth, and his other hand clamped to her hip, holding her still. The movement pushed him harder against her backside, and she panted, writhing in his arms.
“Be still.” His breath dragged roughly against her skin. “Let me feel you.”
But she was already slipping, tumbling helplessly toward that blinding edge again, every muscle drawn taut, every breath stolen by his touch.
Her hips rolled again as his fingers plunged, curling deep, his thumb circling softly.
The wave broke. It splintered through her, crackling down her spine, through her limbs. Something like a sob came from her throat, raw and shaking.
Behind her, he shuddered, his touch gentling into slow, soothing strokes as the last waves surged. Her head fell back against his shoulder, breath coming in broken gasps.
When she sagged against him, boneless and dazed, he slowly withdrew his hand. His palm slid over her ribs, finding the frantic beat of her heart. His hand rested there, steady and firm, as he eased them both down into the cool hollow of bedding.
When her eyes fluttered open, he was looking down on her with eyes darkened by hunger. But something else, too—warm, soft as silk.
The fear she’d once known was gone, burned away by the glowering heat he had coaxed from her, fanned higher with every touch.
He shifted beside her, one arm looping around her waist, the other cradling her head. They lay wrapped in stillness, eyes locked in the hush that followed.
A question stirred within her, hesitant. “It wasn’t the same… as before.”
His jaw flexed, a faint tic of tension. “No,” he said quietly. “You were untouched. I would not cause you pain again tonight.”
For another moment, his gaze lingered on her, unreadable. Then he dipped his head and kissed her, slow and deep. His arm tightened at her waist, pulling her fully into him, the heat of his body forming a wall around her. Within it, she breathed him in—cedar and smoke and stone. The scent of deep places, wild and vast.
Her fingers drifted over the solid plane of his chest, tracing the cut of muscle. Down the lines of his abdomen. Thenlower—
A deep groan vibrated through his chest. His hand closed firmly around hers, halting her descent. She looked up.
There was no mistaking the heat in his eyes, but he guided her hand back to his chest, splaying her palm over his heart.
“Sleep.”
It was soft command, made gentler by affection as his lips brushed her brow. But it stung all the same.
Flushed, Persephone withdrew her hand, folding it tightly against her own chest. She said nothing. Only tilted her face away, breathing as evenly as she could, hoping he didn’t see the sting in her eyes.
Hades reclined again, slipping into effortless repose. One arm tucked behind his head. The other cradled her low against his side, his hand splayed possessively over her hip, the breadth of him swallowing her.
But even without looking, she felt the heavy press of his gaze as it traced the tremor in her breath, the small retreat of her body. The silent wound.
At once, he stilled. A sharp inhale came just above her head—
In one swift motion, he rolled her beneath him. The whisper of distance between them vanished as he pressed her into the bedding, arms braced on either side, caging her without force.
Shadows draped his shoulders, cast by the brazier’s glow, as he grasped her wrists and drew them above her head. His grip was firmer this time, and a shiver chased down her spine.
Fierce eyes swept over her flushed face, her parted lips. His gaze dipped to her chest, where her breasts rose and fell with each rapid breath, the hardened peaks betraying her arousal. His free hand lifted, calloused fingers cupping one breast, weighing it gently in his palm. His thumb swept slowly over her nipple—once, then again. A slow drag sparking heat beneath her skin.
When he spoke, his voice was low and rough, thick with arousal. “You think I don’t desire your touch?”
His hips shifted, grinding against her in a slow arc. She felt him then, thick and rigid, pressing against her core. A wild, breathless sound spilled from her throat.
