“A warning.” The words grated between his teeth. Finally, he could take it no longer. His hands fastened on her bare thighs, and he was rewarded with the sound of Persephone’s breath catching in her throat. He tilted his head a little so that their lips were level. Her hands had moved, fingers tangling with his hair at the base of his neck. “But we both know you don’t listen, even when it’s good for you.”
“You think you know what’s good for me?” Her lips brushed his as she spoke. “You think you know what I need?”
He chuckled, and his hands traveled beneath her dress, seeking her heat. Persephone gasped.
“I don’t think, goddess, I know. I could make you worship me.”
The air around them felt heavy and charged, potent with their hunger. Hades found it impossible to concentrate on anything but her—every part of her body that touched his, the smell of vanilla in her hair, the way she bit down on her lush lip as she stared at his own.
Then she kissed him, and he opened for her, their tongues sliding together, tasting, exploring, demanding. His hands moved to her back and he pressed her close, his arousal fitting between her thighs, growing harder as she became more frenzied, fingers coiling into his hair, forcing his head back, kissing him deeper and harder than he had ever imagined. He couldn’t help wondering… Was this the reaction of a woman who believed he was tense and cold and boorish?
When she pulled away, it was with his lip between her teeth. She leaned in, her tongue touching his earlobe, then her teeth.
“You will worship me,” she said, grinding against his cock. “And I won’t even have to order you.”
Oh, darling, he thought. If you only knew how I worship you now.
His hands dropped to her thighs again, gripping her tight. Something primal was unfurling inside him, and he wanted to know what it would feel to be inside her. He could have her like this, seated in the back of this car. He would take pleasure in the way she moved up and down his shaft, her breasts bouncing as she found release.
And despite his vivid imagination and his desperate wish to have her in any and every way, he found himself shifting her so that she was cradled against him and lowering her dress. He managed to shimmy out of his jacket and covered her with it. He had to remove the temptation or at least restrain it. He would not let her regret him.
And yet, as their passion dissolved into an awkward and abrupt silence, he could not shake the feeling that maybe she already did. He glared out the window, though he felt her gaze on him. After a moment, she spoke, her words heated and whispered.
“You’re just afraid.”
She was not wrong.
He was afraid that even by some miracle she decided she did not hate him, the Fates would take her from him. It was an all too real possibility, especially after the disaster that was this evening. Sisyphus had slipped through his hands again.
When they arrived at Nevernight, Antoni helped Persephone out of the cabin of the limo. Hades took over from there, leading her into the club, nodding to Mekonnen as they passed. Before they entered the main part of the club, Hades used his glamour so that they moved unseen across the packed floor, up the stairs, and to his office. He was too nervous to teleport with her at the moment and did not want to make her sick, fearing she had too much to drink.
Once they were inside his office, he dropped his glamour and crossed the floor to his bar, pouring her a glass of water.
When he looked up, he was struck by her beauty. Why did it hit him differently every time he looked at her? Tonight, she wore teal, and it made her skin look bronzed and her hair look like spun gold.
He pushed the glass across the table. “Drink.”
She approached as he poured himself a drink. As he finished, she swiped it from the table.
“Persephone,” Hades growled, and she smiled, his glass raised to her lips.
“Yes, Hades?”
Her voice was husky and made him grip the edge of the table hard. She sipped the whiskey and then turned, strolling across the floor. Her hips swayed, drawing his attention.