It was a plea, but also a question. He wanted this desperately, could feel how much she wanted this, too. But there was a difference between wanting and being ready, and he would not push her if she needed time.
Except that she nodded, inviting his hand to part her flesh. His thumb brushed lightly over her clit, teasing along the entrance of her delicate and delicious flesh. She rose onto the tips of her toes, body growing rigid beneath his touch.
“Breathe,” he whispered, and when she did, his fingers sank deeper, eliciting a cry from Persephone and a groan from Hades. His head was clouded with lust. He wanted so much from this one instance, to explore her with his hand and his mouth and his cock. He wanted to take her in a million different erotic ways, and yet she was new to all of this, her body unfamiliar with this…invasion. He bit his lip hard to bring himself back to this moment, to focus on pleasuring Persephone, not his throbbing need for release.
This should be about her.
“You’re so wet.” The words came out like a hiss, his face buried deep in her hair. The smell of vanilla and lavender clouded his scenes. When he felt her nails bite into his skin, he guided her hand down to where his was buried deep.
“Touch yourself. Here.”
He showed her how to work her clit, lightly brushing the bundle of nerves that sat just above her moist heat, where he was still moving. He reveled in watching the erotic way she moved against him, rocking her hips, desperate to feel him deeper, and he was happy to oblige. He loved the way she moaned, the way her breath caught in her throat, the way her head lolled against his shoulder. He continued moving inside her while his other hand moved to her breasts, squeezing and kneading her nipples, and then he withdrew from her.
Persephone’s shocked cry made him smile, and she whirled on him. He was not sure what she had intended to do, but he didn’t give her a chance to follow through. He drew her to him, and his mouth descended upon hers, parting lips, tongues moving against each other with a desperation he had never felt before. It was the result of weeks of pent up need, and he would unleash it now, worship her until she was red and raw.
He broke their kiss and rested his forehead against hers, and he had the thought that he would treasure this moment—the pause between passion where they had shared so much and would share more.
“Do you trust me?”
“Yes.”
He studied her a moment longer, memorizing the honesty etched across her face, before kissing her and lifting her from the pool. He sat her on the edge and wedged himself between her thighs, hands anchored to her waist. He would stay here forever if it meant she always looked at him with those heavy-lidded eyes.
“Tell me you have never been naked with a man. Tell me I am the only one.”
It was a primal question, a strange need he felt deep in his stomach that vibrated through the thread that connected them. He wanted to be the first to explore her body, the only one to know its truth and bring her pleasure.
Her expression softened, and he felt her hand cup his face. “You are.”
Again, he kissed her and snaked his arms beneath her knees. He drew her forward until she barely rested on the side of the pool. His kisses dropped from her mouth to her jaw, to her chest and stomach, chin brushing the wet curls at her center, urged on by Persephone, whose hands threaded through his hair, pulling and scraping as sharp gasps and sensual moans escaped her mouth. It was an erotic symphony he could listen to for the rest of his immortal life.
As he covered her skin in kisses, tongue tasting, he found something he did not expect—a blemish on her perfect skin. Discolored patches of healing yellow-green, bruises splayed across her thighs.
He looked up at her. “Was this me?”
“It’s okay.”
Still he frowned, hating that he had hurt her and kissed each bruise, healing them completely as he neared her entrance. There was no waiting once he felt her heat. He had thought to tease her more, to illicit gasps of frustration and demands for his tongue, but he was weak, his restraint shredded. He descended upon her as if she were a feast and he starved. Her cry of pleasure shuddered through him, straight to his cock, reminding him that they had hours of pleasure to come.
He began with light strokes, brushing her clit and sliding over her damp entrance, but as her hands tightened in his hair and her cries became guttural, he pulled her closer, tongue reaching deeper, tasting sweet slick skin. She writhed beneath him, and he used one hand to keep her in place while the other teased that bundle of sensitive nerves. She grew taut beneath him, a dam ready to burst, and when she finally found release, he drank.
When he was finished, he rose to his full height and kissed her, his mouth still wet from her sex. She welcomed him, wrapping her arms and legs around him. She sat just above his cock, her entrance teasing his tip, and he grit his teeth to keep from impaling himself upon her. When he pulled away, his eyes bore into hers.
Let me have you, he thought. He watched as she pulled her lip between her teeth, another wordless invitation, but just as he moved to guide his throbbing member into her, he heard Minthe’s voice.
“Lord Hades?”
His teeth felt as if they would shatter. He had never hated a sound so much in his life, but this was one he would curse for the rest of his existence. He noted the way Persephone stiffened, and he held her in place as he pushed away from the edge of the pool, turning so that her back was to the nymph as she entered the baths. It was an attempt to preserve some of her modesty, even with her legs still around his waist.
Except Persephone surprised him by wrapping her hand around his cock.
They stared at each other, and if gazes could start fires, they would incinerate.
“Ha—”
Minthe stood at the top of the steps that lead into the baths. Her jaw had tightened, and her features grew rigid at the sight she had stumbled upon.
“Yes, Minthe?” Hades voice was strained, his anger and desire warring for dominance in his mind. Persephone’s hand stroked down his shaft, her thumb rubbing light circles over the crown of his cock.
“We…missed you at dinner,” Minthe was saying.
All Hades could think was, Why is she still talking?
“But I see that you are busy.”
Persephone’s hand moved down to the very root.
“Very,” he said between his teeth.
“I will let the cook know you have been thoroughly sated.”
Up to the tip.
“Quite,” he gritted out.
Minthe lingered there a moment longer, as if she wished to say something further, but—smartly—thought against it. She turned and left, and Hades reached for Persephone. They would pick up where they had left off. She had teased him enough, and now he would know what it felt like to be inside her, to be consumed by that mesmerizing heat.
Except she pushed away from him.
“Where are you going?” He followed after her.
“How often does Minthe come to you in the baths?” she asked as she stepped out of the pool.
“Persephone.”
Do not do this. Do not go there, he wanted to say, but she was not looking at him and she had covered herself with a towel.
“Look at me, Persephone.”
He was still in the pool, but he had moved forward enough so that the water came to his thighs. In some way, he felt just as exposed, his hard flesh on full display, so she could be left in no doubt of his want for her.
“Minthe is my assistant.”
“Then she can assist you with your need.” She dared to pin his cock with her vicious stare. His brows slammed down, and he left the water, arm sliding around her waist. He drew her to him.
“I don’t want Minthe,” he growled.
“I don’t want you.”
He wanted to snarl at the bitter taste in the back of his mouth as he tasted her lie.
“You don’t…want me?” he asked.
“No,” she said, but her voice was a hoarse whisper.
Hades’ eyes dropped to her kiss-swollen lips before lifting to her eyes once again. After a moment, he asked, “Do you know all of my powers, Persephone?”
He noted the way her throat constricted as she swallowed. He wondered why, after what they had shared in the pool, she was nervous. Perhaps she did not trust herself to maintain this façade of indifference.
“Some of them,” she answered.
He tilted his head, inching close. “Enlighten me.”
“Illusion,” she said, and as she spoke, his lips brushed along the column of her neck.
“Yes,” he whispered, continuing to explore and taste her skin.
“Invisibility?”
“Very valuable.”
“Charm?” she breathed as his lips moved toward the sensitive skin of her breasts.
“Hmm.” He paused and looked up at her. “But it doesn’t work on you, does it?”
“No.” She shivered as she answered, and a smile threatened Hades’ serious composure. He drew a finger down the center of her chest, hooking around the towel and exposing her breasts.
“You seem to not have heard of one of my most valuable talents.” He took one tight bud into his mouth and sucked, enjoying the way Persephone’s breath caught loudly in her throat. He pulled away and leveled his gaze with hers.
“I can taste lies, Persephone. And yours are as sweet as your skin.”
She planted her hands on his chest and pushed him away.
“This was a mistake.”
That was not a lie, and the truth of it shattered his soul.
Persephone gathered the remainder of her clothes and the crown Ian had made. She held them to her chest like they were a shield, as if she were ashamed of what she had let happen. Hades stared as she retreated up the stairs.
“You might believe this was a mistake,” Hades called, and Persephone halted, her head turning only slightly so he could see her profile. “But you want me. I was inside you. I tasted you. That is a truth you will never escape.”
And it was that truth that gave him hope, because Hades knew he could build affection with fire.
He watched as Persephone shivered and ran.
CHAPTER XIX – THE HALCYON PROJECT
Hades teleported to his chambers, naked, cock straining, desperate for release.
She left me, he thought as he took a long pull straight from the whiskey bottle he had swiped from his bar. He paced, body rigid. The more he moved, the more he was reminded of his need.
Fucking Fates. Fucking Minthe.
This is a taste of my own medicine, he thought. I left her, too. Is this how she felt?
The thought was both pleasing and agonizing at the same time.
He paused, drank once more from the bottle, and threw it into the roaring fire. It shattered, and for a moment, the flames raged, the perfect representation of how he felt on the inside. As the blaze died down, he braced himself against the table and wrapped his fingers around his swollen length, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes.
In the darkness of his mind, he teleported to Persephone, finding her splayed on her bed, legs apart, fingers buried inside her, giving pleasure just as he had taught her in the baths. Her heels dug into the bed, her back arched, her breathing grew heavy. She was beautiful, exposed skin bathed in moonlight—a silvery goddess in the throes of passion.
Then she moved onto her knees and rocked back and forth, rolling her hips as she rode her hand.
“Tell me you’re thinking about me,” Hades said, and his hand gripped his cock, stroking lightly, savoring the pleasure that rushed to his head.
Persephone turned, her wide green eyes meeting his in the dark. Even in this light, he could see her cheeks were flushed. Her hair fell in disarray around her face, and her nipples strained against her nightshirt.
“Well?” he prompted.
“Yes,” she breathed. “I was thinking about you.”
He growled low in his throat. “Don’t stop on my account.”
She rose onto her knees and pulled her shirt over her head. His eyes roved her beautiful body, full breasts and dark nipples. A small waist he wanted to hold as she rode him to release, and wide hips that would cling to him as he drove into her.
The goddess began again, parting her flesh to pleasure herself. For a while, they maintained eye contact, and as she moved up and down, Hades stroked himself, increasing in urgency the more he witnessed her passion, head rolling back, breasts bouncing, teeth biting down on her bottom lip. Soon his hips moved, thrusting into his hand.
“Come for me,” he commanded. “Come, my darling.”
Her cries gave way to his own as his body jerked, hand filling with hot release. He collapsed against the table, breathing hard. Despite his need to catch his breath, he laughed.
He laughed because he had just had one of the hottest sexual encounters of his long life. Because his goddess—his future wife—had pleasured herself—and she had thought of him.
***
“Tell me why you are taking Minthe to the Olympian Gala tonight and not Persephone?”
The question came from Hecate, who stood behind Hades as he adjusted his tie in the mirror. The Goddess of Witchcraft did not look pleased, looming in her purple robes, arms crossed over her chest.
The Olympian Gala occurred every year and was hosted at the Museum of Ancient Arts. It was an extravagant affair and an excuse for the gods to flaunt their wealth. The only reason Hades went was because the event doubled as a fundraiser. This year, the gala was themed after the Underworld, which meant that Hades and his foundation had a hand in choosing the charity.
“I am not taking Minthe,” Hades said. “She is my assistant.”
And he had not asked Persephone because she was going as an assignment for work, and taking Lexa.
“You do realize the only thing Persephone will see is you arriving at the gala with Minthe?”
Hades thought about the other night in the baths, when Minthe had interrupted them. Persephone had looked pointedly at his groin, his cock and balls heavy. He heard her words in his head. Then Minthe can assist you with your need.
Hades ground his teeth and turned to the goddess.
“I do not intend to arrive with her on my arm,” Hades said. “She is there to introduce the Halcyon Project.”
It was something his staff has been working on at The Cypress Foundation—a non-profit that would provide rehabilitation care to mortals for free. It was inspired by Persephone, whose words he could still hear clear as day. If you are going to request a bargain, challenge them to go to rehab if they’re an addict, and do one better, pay for it.
He had not been doing enough. If his true goal was to ensure that life in the Underworld was a better existence for souls, they had to have hope while alive. In the last few weeks, Hades had come to know more and more about hope than he ever imagined.
Hecate was staring, brow raised. “Does Minthe know that?”
“I have given her no reason to think otherwise,” Hades said.
The goddess shook her head. “You do not understand women,” Hecate said. “Unless you have made it explicitly clear, meaning unless you have said the words, Minthe, you are not my date, she will think exactly that.”
“And what makes you an expert suddenly?”
“I may not be interested in relationships, Hades, but I have lived longer than you and have seen these emotions destroy humanity. Besides,” she lifted her chin, “I overheard Minthe telling her minions she had a date with you this evening.”
“Her minions?” he asked.
“She has a group of nymphs she complains to about everything. You should hear the way she talks about Persephone.”
Hades’ eyes narrowed, and suddenly, he was full of curiosity.
“How does she talk about Persephone?”
Hecate’s eyes glittered menacingly as she described in detail the horrible things Minthe had said about the Goddess of Spring, including calling her a favor fuck—a derogatory term mortals used when describing someone who sleeps with a god in exchange for their favor. When Hecate was finished speaking, Hades only had one question.
“Why am I just now hearing about this?”
“I was gathering evidence,” she said defensively. “And if you think I let them get away with calling Persephone names, you’re mistaken.”
Hades waited, and Hecate finally explained.
“I…might have sent an army of poisonous centipedes to crash their picnic. The second time I sent blister beetles.”
“Second time? This has happened more than once?”
“What can I say? Minthe’s out of control,” Hecate said, ignoring the true nature of Hades’ question, which was why hadn’t she come to him earlier?
Hades turned from Hecate, swiping his mask off the table behind him.
“So,” Hecate hedged. “What are you going to do?”
“I will speak with Minthe,” Hades answered.
“Speak,” Hecate repeated. “You aren’t going to use this as an opportunity to…I don’t know…ban her from the Underworld?”
“Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear enough,” Hades said, and leveled his gaze with Hecate’s. “As you so…aptly pointed out in the beginning of this conversation. Trust, goddess, after I’m finished with Minthe, there will be no doubt in her mind of how she should treat Persephone.”
Hades moved to open the door, finding the nymph on the other side. Her hand was raised, as if he had caught her just before she was about to knock. She was dressed in emerald, and jewels hung heavy on her ears and neck.
“Oh,” she said, smiling wide, her eyes darting to Hecate, who still lingered in the background. They narrowed slightly before refocusing on Hades. “I…came to see if you were ready.”
“More than,” Hades replied, and before the nymph could react, he gathered his magic and teleported. They appeared in the Museum of Ancient Arts, just outside the ballroom where the dinner would take place.
“Favor fuck,” Hades said, as he secured his mask.
Minthe looked at him, a mixture of apprehension and fear on her face. “Excuse me?”
“Do you claim to not recognize those words?” Hades asked.
Minthe had nothing to say.
“The next time I hear that you have spoken ill of Persephone will be the last time you assist me,” Hades said. “Do I make myself clear?”
The nymph lifted her chin, eyes glistening with anger, but she remained silent, more than likely embarrassed and angry that she had been called out for her malicious behavior. Hades left the hall and entered the ballroom. He was greeted immediately by the sight of Persephone descending the stairs crowned with gold and dressed in fire.
He stared openly and hungrily. Her gown hugged her body, reminding him that he had seen her naked, touched her in the most intimate way, heard her breathe his name. He knew she thought similarly as her bottle-green eyes trailed his body, igniting him from the inside out, and then his thoughts became chaos and he wondered if she wore anything beneath that dress.
But as she stared, her eyes darkened. Hades stiffened as Minthe walked up beside him, and the rustle of her dress grated against his ears like a steel blade being sharpened.
He did not acknowledge the nymph, but it did not matter. He understood the expression on Persephone’s face. She had assumed what Hecate had predicted, that they had come together. Hades could hear Hecate’s smug voice.
I told you so.
Persephone downed her wine and then disappeared into the crowd, Lexa following close behind.
“I think you were just snubbed,” Minthe commented.
Hades’ mood darkened, and he skirted the crowd in an attempt to keep Persephone within sight. He wanted to explain before it was too late, but he found his way blocked by Poseidon. The god wore a flashy suit, and his hair appeared to have been gelled into something that resembled an ocean wave. Hades thought he looked ridiculous and wondered what Thanatos would think of his hair.
“Brother,” Poseidon said, and glanced over his shoulder to where Persephone stood with Hermes. “Am I keeping you from someone?”
Hades did not respond.
“She is beautiful,” he said. “I can tell even with the mask. Perhaps you’ll share when you tire of her.”
Hades narrowed his gaze, tilting his head as he took a step closer to his brother. They were equal in height, but not in size. Poseidon was bulkier, but Hades was stronger. If Poseidon needed a reminder, Hades was happy to oblige.
“If you so much as glance in her direction again, I will tear you limb from limb and feed your carcass to the Titans,” Hades said. “Do you doubt me?”
Poseidon had the gall to look amused, his aqua eyes sparkling, and he raised a blond brow. “Territorial much, brother?”
“That’s nothing. You should have seen what he did when I rescued her from drowning,” Hermes said, sauntering around them, wings dragging the ground. Hades took a step back.
“Did he piss in a circle around her?” Poseidon asked.
Hades’ jaw grew taut, and he turned his dark gaze upon Hermes, who had just started to open his mouth, when he looked at Hades and shut it. He had a feeling he knew what Hermes was about to say, that he had marked Persephone in another way via a bargain.
“What’s the matter, brother? Afraid her eye will wander?”
Hades felt the darkness rise in him. He would show Poseidon what it was to have wandering eyes when his were removed from his skull and tossed across this room.
But Poseidon was saved by Minthe, who appeared behind him. She slid her arm through his and offered a charming smile.
“Poseidon,” she said in a sultry voice. “It’s been a while.”
The God of the Sea gazed down at her, offering a wide, predatory smile.
“Minthe. You look ravishing.”
She pulled on Poseidon’s arm. “Have you found your table?” she was asking. “I would be more than happy to help.”
As she turned, she glared at Hades as if you say don’t start a scene.
When they were gone, Hermes spoke.
“If you don’t want Poseidon to be an asshat, you shouldn’t provoke him.”
Hades looked at the God of Mischief. “What did Persephone say to you?”
Hermes raised a brow. “Lover’s quarrel?”
He glared.
“I called her out for eye fucking you and she tried to deny it, but we all saw it—from both of you, I might add—and we all felt uncomfortable. Did you know she thinks you don’t believe in love?”
“What?”
“She seems rather bitter about it, too,” Hermes added, eyes wandering around the room. “Oh! Cherries!”
He started to take off but paused and looked at Hades.
“If you want my advice…”
Hades didn’t, but he also didn’t feel like talking.
“Tell her.”
“Tell her what?”
“That you love her, you idiot.” Hermes rolled his eyes. “All these years lived, and you are not the least bit self-aware.”
Hermes left then, and when Hades started to find Persephone again, she was no longer there. He gave a frustrated sigh, and his fingers curled into fists at his sides. There were so many words whirling in his head—words from Hecate and Minthe and Poseidon and Hermes. Strangely, it was something Hecate had said long ago that echoed in his mind now.
Persephone has hope for love, and instead of confirming that, you mocked her. Passion does not require love? What were you thinking?
He hadn’t been, that had been the problem.
Why did I let her think something so false? he thought, and then answered himself. Because I feared exposing the truth of my heart—that I have always desired to love and be loved.
He’d been hoping to guard his heart, build a cage around it so thick that nothing—not even Persephone and her compassion—would find its way through. Except now, she was the only person he wanted close to his heart. It was her compassion he sought. It was her love he wanted.
Because it was her he loved.
Those words impaled his chest and twisted there like a blade. He felt the ache all over his body, in the bottom of his feet and the ends of his fingers. He was left feeling shaky, raw, and exposed. He looked out over the crowd at the mortals and immortals gathered, who were oblivious to the fact that he had been utterly changed in this very moment, in the most bizarre place.
Why could he not have had this realization elsewhere? In the Underworld, perhaps? Poised over Persephone with his cock teasing her entrance?
“Fucking Fates,” he muttered.
“What was that?” Minthe asked, appearing at his side.
Hades glanced at her. “I trust Poseidon found your assistance pleasurable.”
“Jealous, Hades?”
“Hardly,” he replied.
“Don’t insult me,” Minthe snapped. “I did that for you. Everything I do is for you.”
They stared at one another. Hades was not sure what he should say. He was not ignorant to Minthe’s feelings for him, and he had to admit that he had never handled them well.
“Minthe—”
“I came to tell you it’s time for your announcement,” she said, interrupting him. “You should take your place.”
She gathered her dress in her hands and turned, strolling toward the stage. Hades followed behind, keeping to the shadows, his presence ignored as Minthe was introduced and took the spotlight. She looked almost gleeful as she spoke, no hint of her earlier frustration present, but she could not hide her heartbreak from him. He could see it in subtle ways—eyes that were not bright enough, a smile that was not wide enough, shoulders that were not tall enough.
“Welcome,” she said. “Lord Hades is honored to reveal this year’s charity, The Halcyon Project.”