“Have I given you reason to think such things?”
She stared, unable to answer. She didn’t want to say that Yuri had planted the idea in her head. The thought had been there before—a seed planted early on. Yuri had merely watered it and now it was growing, as wild as the black vines that sprouted from her magic.
Hades spoke faster, demanding. “Who has given you doubts?”
“I have only just started to consider—”
“My motives?”
“No—”
He narrowed his eyes. “It seems that way.”
Persephone took a step away, the bookcase pressing into her back. “I am sorry I said anything.”
“It is too late for that.”
Persephone glared. “Will you punish me for speaking my mind?”
“Punish?” Hades tilted his head to the side, and he moved closer, hips leaning into hips, leaving no space between them. “I am interested to hear how you think I might punish you.”
Those words wound her tight, and despite the heat they inspired, she managed to glare at him.
“I am interested in having my questions answered.”
Hades jaw tightened. “Remind me again of your question.”
She blinked. Was she asking him if he had only chosen her because she was a goddess? Was she asking him if he loved her?
She took a deep breath and peered up at him through her lashes. “If there were no Fates, would you still want me?”
She couldn’t place the look on Hades’ face. His eyes were a laser, melting her chest and her heart and her lungs. She couldn’t breath as she waited for him to speak—and he didn’t. Instead, he reached for her with one hand and clasped her jaw. His body vibrated—she could feel the violence beneath, and for a moment she wondered what the King of the Underworld intended to unleash.
Then his grip softened, and his fingers splayed across her cheek, eyes lowering to her lips.
“Do you know how I knew the Fates made you for me?” His voice was a hoarse whisper, a tone he used in the darkness of their room after they made love. Persephone shook her head slowly, ensnared by his gaze. “I could taste it on your skin and the only thing I regret is that I have lived so long without you.”
His lips trailing along her jaw and across her cheek. She held her breath, leaning into his touch, seeking his mouth, but instead of kissing her, he stepped away.
His sudden distance left her unsteady, and she leaned against the bookshelf for support.
“What was that?” she demanded, glaring at him.
He offered a dark chuckle, the corners of his mouth lifting. “Foreplay.”
The he reached forward, swept her into his arms and over his shoulder. Persephone gave a small yelp of surprise, and demanded, “What are you doing?”
“Proving that I want you.”
He strolled out of the library and into the hall.
“Put me down, Hades!”
“No.”
She had a feeling he was grinning. His hand crept up between her thighs, parting her flesh, and diving inside of her. She gripped the fabric of his jacket so she wouldn’t fall off his shoulder.
“Hades!” she moaned.
He chuckled, and she hated him for it. She released his long locks and yanked on the strands, pulling his head back, seeking his lips. Hades’ was obliging and braced her against the nearest wall offering a vicious kiss before pulling away to growl in her ear.
“I will punish you until you scream, until you come so hard around my cock, you are left in no doubt of my affection.”
His words stole her breath and her magic awakened, warming her skin.
“Make good on your promises, Lord Hades,” she said against his mouth.
Then the wall beneath Persephone gave way and she yelped as Hades stumbled forward. He managed to prevent them both from landing on the floor, and once they were steady, he guided her to her feet. She recognized the way he held her—protectively, an arm wrapped high on her shoulders. She craned her neck and discovered they were in the dining room. The banquet table was crowded with Hades’ staff, including Thanatos, Hecate, and Charon.
The wall they’d been pressed against was a door.
Hades cleared his throat, and Persephone buried her head into Hades’ chest.
“Good evening,” Hades said, she was surprised by how calm he sounded when he spoke. He wasn’t even breathless, though she could feel his heart beating hard against her ear. She thought Hades would excuse himself and vanish, but instead he said, “The Lady Persephone and I are famished, and we wish to be alone.”
She froze and jabbed him in the side.
What was he doing?
All at once, people started to move, clearing away plates, silverware, and huge platters of untouched food.
“Good evening, my lady—my lord.”
They filed out of the dining room with glittering eyes and wide smiles. Persephone kept her gaze lowered, a perpetual blush on her cheeks as Hades’ residents paraded into the hall to dine elsewhere in the palace.
When they were alone, Hades wasted no time leaning into her, guiding her back until her legs hit the table.
“You cannot be serious.”
“As the dead,” he answered.
“The…dining room?”
“I’m quite hungry, aren’t you?”
Yes.
But she had no time to respond. Hades lifted her onto the table, stepped between her legs, and knelt as a servant would kneel to their queen. Her dress rose as his hands trailed up her calves. He teased, lips skimming the inside of her thighs before his mouth found her core.
Persephone arch off the table and her breath hitched as Hades worked, his tongue ruthless in its assault, his short beard creating a delicious friction against her sensitive flesh. She reached for him, tangling her fingers into his hair, writhing beneath this touch.
Hades held her tighter, his fingers digging into her flesh to hold her in place. A guttural sound escaped her when his lips fastening around her cleft and his fingers replaced his thrusting tongue, filling and stretching until pleasure exploded throughout her body.
She was sure she was glowing.
This was rapture, euphoria, ecstasy.
And it was all interrupted by a knock at the door.
Persephone froze and tried to sit up, but Hades held her in place and growled looking up at her from his place between her legs.
“Ignore it.” It was spoken like a command, his eyes ignited like embers.
He continued ruthlessly, moving deeper, harder, faster. Persephone could barely stay on the table, she could barely breath, feeling as though she were clawing her way to the surface of the Styx again, desperate for air, but content in the knowledge that this death would be a happy one.
But the knock continued, and a hesitant voice called out, “Lord Hades?”
Persephone couldn’t tell who was on the other side of the door, but they sounded nervous and they had reason to be, because the look on Hades face was murderous.
This is how he looks when he faces souls in Tartarus, she thought.
Hades sat back on his heels.
“Go away,” he snapped.
There was a beat of silence. Then the voice said, “It’s important, Hades.”
Even Persephone noted to heightened alarm in the person’s tone. Hades sighed and stood, taking her face between his hands.