He kissed her harder, consumed by the feel of his cock in her hand. It was like all sensation in his body came from this one place, and she had all the control—she could bend him and break him, and he would let her.
“Kneel,” she said, and the breathless order sent both of them to their knees.
Persephone urged him onto his back and crawled up his body, her slick heat settling over his arousal as she straddled him.
His hands splayed across her thighs, digging into her skin as she lifted herself and guided him inside her. He could barely contain himself, and as she slid down, he thrust his hips upward. Their bodies slammed together, moving the same or at different times. It didn’t matter so long as they were inside each other, so long as they were drowning in this ecstasy that moved through their bodies like blood.
“Yes,” he hissed. “Fuck.”
He sat up, gripping her with one hand while the other moved between them so he could stroke her clit. Her body wound so tight that when she came, she shuddered around him, and it was enough to coax him to release. He groaned and fell back, bringing her with him as he continued to thrust deeply into her. After, they lay there for a while, quiet and content, until Persephone rose to her feet, legs shaking.
“Are you well?” he asked, holding on to her as she steadied herself.
“Yes,” she said with a smile, laughing a little. “Very.”
He stood and dressed and then took her hand.
“Are you ready for bed, my darling?”
“As long as you are coming too,” she said, arching a brow.
He smiled. “Of course.”
They cut through the garden, and he was pleased with the easy silence between them, though as they continued toward the palace, he thought more on what she’d said in the field—about wanting more and fearing he would not want her.
“What is it?” she asked as his steps slowed.
“When you said you wanted to…try…things with me. What things, exactly?”
He liked that she still blushed.
“What are you willing to teach?”
“Anything,” he breathed. “Everything.”
She studied him, tilting her head as if considering what to do next. “Perhaps we should begin where we failed. With…bondage.”
There was something about this that felt completely unreal, like every fucking fantasy he’d ever had was coming true in this tempting form.
He’d never had any doubt that she was made for him, but she proved it every day.
“Are you sure?” he asked, brushing a stray piece of hair from her face.
“I will tell you when I feel afraid.”
He was glad they could begin again, even if it meant standing on the ruins of trauma. He drew her closer, his hand on the back of her neck, his forehead against hers.
“You hold my heart in your hands, Persephone.”
“And your cock too, apparently,” said Hermes, amused.
Hades tore away from Persephone, growling Hermes’s name, but his frustration quickly turned to dread when he saw what the god was wearing—gold robes.
“I thought interrupting now was probably better than a few minutes ago,” Hermes explained.
“You were watching?” Persephone asked, cringing noticeably.
“To be fair,” said Hermes, “you were having sex in the middle of the Underworld.”
“And I have thrown you just as far,” Hades said. “Need a reminder?”
“Ah, no. If you are going to be angry at anyone, be angry at Zeus. He sent me.”
“Why?” Persephone asked, apprehension already seeping into her voice.
“He’s called for a feast,” Hermes said.
“A feast?” She looked at Hades, and he ground his teeth. “Tonight?”
“Yes. In…exactly an hour,” Hermes said, looking at his wrist, which conveniently bore no watch.
“And we must be in attendance?”
“Well, I didn’t just watch you have sex for nothing,” Hermes replied.
Hades was already thinking through how he would punish the god for that.
“Why must we attend? And why at such short notice?” she asked.
Hades knew why—because this was meant to be their engagement feast. A misnomer if there ever was one, given that at the end of the event, Zeus would decide whether they could wed.
“He did not say, but perhaps he has finally decided to bless your union.” Hermes chuckled. “I mean, why would he call for a banquet if he was going to say no?”
“Have you met my brother?” Hades asked.
“Unfortunately, yes. He’s my father,” Hermes said, and then he clapped his hands, rubbing them together—eager for drama, no doubt. “Well, I’ll see you two soon.”
Hermes left, and Persephone turned to Hades.
“Do you think it is true? That he is summoning us to bless our marriage?”
Blesswas a generous word.
“I will not venture to guess,” he said.
She frowned and paused a moment before asking, “What do I wear?”
He almost laughed, but considering they were about to present together at an Olympian feast for the first time, the way they dressed needed to make a statement, to convey they were already united even if Zeus said no.
“Let me dress you.”
She narrowed her eyes, suspicious. “Do you really think that is wise?”
“Yes.” He hooked an arm around her waist, bringing her flush against him. “For one, it will not take long, which means we have approximately fifty-nine minutes for anything you may desire.”
“Anything?” she asked, rising higher on the tips of her toes.
“Yes,” he whispered, his blood roaring to life beneath her stare.
“Then I desire,” she said, voice quiet and breathy, “a bath.”
Hades laughed, grinning wide, and it felt good to laugh given the evening they were about to have.
“Coming up, my queen.”
CHAPTER XXXIX
HADES
Hades took his time admiring Persephone.
When it came to dressing himself, he preferred simplicity, and while he’d applied the same concept to the gown he’d manifested for Persephone, on her, it was magnificent. There was something regal about the way it draped over her body. She wore it like a queen.
“Drop your glamour,” he said, the words a low command.
She did not hesitate, and he felt a rush as her magic slipped away. He liked watching her transform, as he imagined she did him. They so rarely existed in this state together, it felt sinful and almost erotic.
“Just one more thing,” he said, and as he lifted his hands, a crown of iron grew between them.
“Are you making a statement, my lord?” she asked as he placed it on her head.
“I thought that was obvious,” he said.
“That I belong to you?” she asked with a pointed stare.
“No,” he said, tilting her head back. “That we belong to each other.”
He pressed his lips to hers in a tame kiss, conveying nothing of the desire raging beneath his skin. Seeing her like this was a dream.
“You are beautiful, my darling,” he said, his voice quiet, admiring.
She was quiet too, studying his face, and he grew worried when he couldn’t quite place her expression.
He touched her cheek softly. “Are you well?”
“Yes. Perfect,” she said and offered him a smile, though he knew it wasn’t completely genuine. She likely dreaded facing the Olympians, and he could not blame her. It took a lot to interact with them, to keep up with their mind games. Tonight would be trying for him, worse for her. “Are you ready?”
“I am never ready for Olympus,” he said. “Do not leave my side.”
Hades took her to the courtyard of Olympus, where Tyche’s funeral had been held. Far above them, atop the mountain, was the Temple of the Sun, where music and a cacophony of chatter already proved to be both lively and exhausting.
He wondered if Helios would join the festivities, given that the temple was usually where he resided during the night after he returned from his journey through the sky. Hades dreaded the thought but knew the God of the Sun would likely be there. It did not matter that he hated Hades—gods would congregate anywhere there was sure to be wine, ambrosia, and drama.
“I am assuming that is our destination?” Persephone asked.
“Unfortunately,” Hades replied.
He would have teleported, but he was in no hurry to reach their destination. Besides, if they walked, Persephone could see more of Olympus rather than Olympians, and that would benefit them both.
They made their ascent, and while he had no particular interest in the home of the gods, he enjoyed watching Persephone appreciate its beauty. It wasn’t as though he didn’t recognize its splendor. It just wasn’t something he valued—a kingdom at the height of the world that only served to remind mortals of what they could not have. At least within his realm, there was always one truth—everything came to an end.
They arrived at the Temple of the Sun.
He had tried to prepare himself for this, but he hadn’t had enough time, and it was far worse than he imagined. There were too many people, and they were all crowded on the porch of the temple, talking all at once.
He hated it.
Until it was silent, and every pair of eyes turned to them.
He hated that more.
Beside him, Persephone squeezed his hand, and when he looked down at her, she was smiling. She looked…enchanting.
“It seems I am not the only one who can’t help staring at you, my love,” she said quietly. “I think the whole room is enthralled.”
He grinned. “Oh, my darling. They are staring at you.”
He could sense the fear rising in the room as they made their way onto the floor, the crowd splitting to accommodate their presence. Those gathered here were minor gods, the favored, nymphs, satyrs, and other servants of the Olympians. Like mortals, they all had their own opinions of him. Some were indifferent; most were afraid.
“Sephy!”
Persephone released Hades’s hand as she turned to see Hermes barreling through the crowd. He was wearing a bright yellow suit. It was embroidered with flowers.
It was probably the ugliest thing Hades had ever seen.
“You look stunning!” Hermes told her. He held her hands aloft, inspecting her gown.
“Thank you, Hermes, but I should warn you—you are complimenting Hades’s handiwork. He made the dress.”
There were a few gasps from the crowd and a wave of murmurs.
No one had stopped watching or listening to them since their arrival.
“Of course he did, and in his favorite color,” Hermes mused.
“Actually, Hermes,” Hades said, “black is not my favorite color.”
Another round of whispers. He felt like he was having a conversation with a crowd.
“Then what is it?” someone shouted.
Hades smirked as he answered, “Red.”
“Red?” another demanded. “Why red?”
He looked down at Persephone, his hand splayed across her waist. “I think I began to favor the color when Persephone wore it at the Olympian Gala.”
There were a few sighs, but one voice carried over the crowd.
“Who would have thought my brother to be so sentimental?” Poseidon said with a humorless laugh.
Hades had not seen his brother since he’d taken Dionysus to his yacht to rescue Ariadne. He stood across the room with Amphitrite on his arm, and Hades wondered if Poseidon’s wife knew about that encounter and the horrible things he’d threatened.
“Ignore him,” Hermes said. “He’s had too much ambrosia.”
“Do not make excuses for him,” Hades said. “Poseidon is always an ass.”
“Brother!” Zeus boomed, and Hades took a deep breath as he prepared to face him. Zeus pushed through the crowd until he reached them, slapping Hades on the back. He seemed jolly and exaggerated. He was either drunk or his balls had started to grow back. “And gorgeous Persephone. So glad you could make it.”
“I was under the impression we did not have a choice,” she said.
Zeus’s laughter burst from deep in his throat. “You’re rubbing off on her, Brother,” he said and elbowed Hades in the side. There was an angry glint in his eye, as if he did not like Persephone’s tone, but Hades did not care, because he loved it. “Why wouldn’t you come?” Zeus continued. “This is your engagement feast after all!”
“Then that must mean we have your blessing,” Persephone said and then added pointedly, “to marry.”
Zeus’s laugh was dull, though he tried to hide it behind a boisterous tone. “That is not for me to decide, dear. It is my oracle who will decide.”
“Don’t call me dear,” Persephone said.
“It is only a word,” he replied, tone devoid of any humor. “I mean no offense.”
“I don’t care what you intended,” Persephone said. “The word offends me.”