Page 53 of Hades

Having Aradia wrapped in my arms and my lips pressed against hers is the best feeling I have experienced in over fifty years. When she leans forward, deepening our kiss, I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my lap.

She lets out a playful squeal, and I can feel her lips smiling against mine. I want to take my time and kiss every inch of her body, but she feels so good in my arms. Gently, I pull back just enough to look into her eyes.

“Are you sure you want to be kissing me?” I ask her, and I’m too much of a man to admit I’m scared of her answer.

“I have been thinking about kissing you for so long, but you didn’t come back.”

Embracing her tightly, I sit back so that she is almost forced to straddle my lap. “I came back every day. I brought you food, and supplies and I would sit and watch over you while you slept,” I admit. “I didn’t know how to tell you I was sorry.”

“You could show me how sorry you are,” she whispers in my ear, and I am instantly rock-hard.

“Fuck, woman. You haven’t been down here so long that you’ve taken a liking to torture, have you?” I ask, but as I do I grab her firm ass and pull her against my cock so she can feel what she’s doing to me. “I have waited for you for so long,” I growl into her ear.

Her fingers are beneath my t-shirt, teasing my abs with her gentle touch. Gripping her firmly and holding her against my body, I maneuver myself until I can stand. Aradia wraps her legs around my waist and tightens her hold, pressing herself against me.

“We shouldn’t be here,” I whisper, and with nothing more than a thought, the walls of Treachery Prison melt away, leaving us standing back in our little cabin in the woods.

Glancing around, Aradia gives me a mischievous grin before she playfully nips at my ear. “I want you so badly,” she moans. “I can’t believe you kept everything,” she adds as she pulls back, but only enough to snake her hands up my abs and over my chest.

Closing my eyes, I savor her touch, and she quickly pulls my t-shirt up as high as my grip on her will allow. Securing her with one arm, I reach back and pull it up, over my head, removing it completely.

“Is that better?” I ask, but I can tell by her ogling smile it’s exactly what she wanted. “I think your time for being in charge is over,” I inform her as I walk us the few steps over to the bed and set her on the edge. “It’s been so long. I have every intention of taking my time with you and I’m going to worship every inch of your body,” I tell her as I grasp the hem of her tank top and lift it up over her head. As I do, her once-matted hair cascades in silken waves over her shoulders.

A look of sheer delight emanates from her as she runs her fingers through the silky locks. “Thank you,” she whispers. “The spring water pool could only do so much,” she jokes.

I took great care in choosing the black lace bra she was wearing, though I didn’t think I would ever have the luxury of seeing her wear it so soon. She might have been in Treachery Prison, but I ensured she never went without anything she needed, including things like this.

Gently, I trace the outline of the lace that cups her full breasts perfectly.

“This one is my favorite,” she admits as she arches her back into my touch. “Thank you for bringing them,” she breathes out as my thumb caresses her nipple.

“Mine, too. But your bare skin is far too perfect to remain covered,” I tease just before flicking the center clasp between her breasts. “You are so fucking beautiful,” I manage to say as I take in her naked form. “I have been lost without you by my side,” I admit as I pepper her neck with kisses.

The memory of her body was seared into my brain. I know every curve, every freckle and every secret spot that makes her crazy. Kneeling, I grip her knees, spread her legs, and pull her toward me. She lets out a wicked squeal as my lips connect with one pert nipple, and I give it a gentle tug.

Her nimble fingers reach for the button of my jeans, but I’ve already told her she isn’t in charge. Gripping her wrists, I pull her arms behind her back and hold them securely. “I already told you that you weren’t in charge. Are you going to be good and let me worship you?” I ask in earnest.

“I’ve just been imagining you naked since my first memory of you returned,” she informs me, and I want to yell in joy hearing those words.

“You remember me?” I ask, and she gives me an adorable shrug before she leans forward and gives me a gentle kiss on the lips.

“I remember you naked,” she teases. And if I weren’t rock hard and ready to devour her body, I’d probably ask her to elaborate. But as it is, I’m barely keeping myself under control.

“Well, then I think it’s only fair that I get to see you naked first,” I say as I let her hands go and quickly undo the button of her jeans before lowering the zipper, revealing the black lace top of her panties. “Matching set, for me,” I tease, and she gently pushes me.

“As if I had a choice. At least you have good taste.” She smiles.

“Speaking of taste,” I nearly growl out as I grab the denim of her jeans and tug at her pant legs. “These need to go.”

She obliges by lifting her hips so I can slide them down her legs. The sight of her in nothing but a lace bra and panties is something I have fantasized about for more lifetimes than I care to admit.

“You are so beautiful,” I say again, and I’ll continue to say until I take my last breath. “You might want to lean back. I’m going to be here for a while,” I insist as I plant a gentle kiss on the inside of one thigh and then the other.

I hear her let out a tiny moan as I repeat the process, kissing one thigh then the other until I’m pulling at the lace of her panties with my teeth. The sweet scent of her arousal is all the encouragement I need as I slip a finger under the lace and tug it to the side. She’s so wet that her slit glistens, beckoning me forward.

Peppering kisses from one hip to the next, I tease her with little flicks of my tongue, letting her taste explode in my mouth. Spreading her legs wide, I press my tongue against her and drag it from her entrance to her clit, savoring her taste. Ambrosia may be the drink of the gods, but it has nothing on the taste of Aradia. Savoring her, I flick my tongue, teasing her clit and earning her soft pleas for more.

Giving her a moment to catch her breath, I circle her swollen clit with one finger before sliding it deep inside her. When I add a second, Aradia arches her back off the bed at my sudden and relentless invasion of her pussy, which I have no intention of stopping.

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