He had wanted to spend the night between Persephone’s legs, giving and receiving pleasure.
At that thought, he turned, and found the object of his scandalous thoughts a few steps away. His eyes were immediately drawn to her bare back, and he thought of how she had arched against him in the pool, desperate for pleasure. He approached, and he knew she felt him because she straightened and turned her head so that he could see the side of her face—delicate nose and pretty lips.
“Anything to critique, Lady Persephone?” he asked.
“No,” she said quietly, thoughtfully. “How long have you been planning The Halcyon Project?”
“Not long.”
“It will be beautiful.”
He leaned close, fingers skimming her shoulder, tracing the edges of the black appliqué that snaked down her back. She was warm, her skin soft, and she shivered each time they touched skin to skin.
“A touch of darkness,” he murmured, fingers trailing down the inside of her arm until they tangled with her own. “Dance with me.”
She turned to face him, head tilted so that their gazes met. He could see clear to her bright soul, and his darkness was drawn to it.
“All right.”
He drew her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles before leading her to the floor. He pulled her close, their hips touching, and he growled low in his throat. His cock grew taut, reminding him of the baths and how much he wanted to be inside her. He wondered what sort of headlines would splash across the media if he kissed her now and took her to the Underworld.
Hades abducts Persephone, he thought, fingers tightening around hers and her hip as he guided her through a dance, their gazes unwavering, the heat between them building, an inferno that became as cold as ice when she spoke.
“You should be dancing with Minthe.”
He gritted his teeth. “Would you prefer that I dance with her?”
“She’s your date.”
“She is not my date.” He had to work to control his frustration. “She is my assistant, as I have told you.”
“Your assistant doesn’t arrive on your arm to a gala.”
He recognized Hecate’s words as she spoke and seethed.
“You are jealous,” Hades said, smirking.
“I’m not jealous!” Her eyes flashed. “I will not be used, Hades.”
He frowned. “When have I used you?”
She stayed silent, her frustration palpable.
“Answer, goddess.”
“Have you slept with her?”
He froze, and so did everyone else who shared the floor.
“It sounds like you are requesting a game, goddess.”
“You want to play a game?” She jerked her hands away from his. “Now?”
It was the only way he would answer her question, and she knew it. He held out his hand for her to take, eyes alight, begging her to reestablish their connection.
Come with me to the Underworld, he thought. You will not come back the same.
He knew when she had made her decision, because her gaze became fierce and determined—she would have what she wanted. Then, her fingers curled into his, and he smiled, teleporting to the Underworld.
CHAPTER XX – A GAME OF PASSION
Hades appeared in his office, hand still twined with Persephone’s. His body was tight with anticipation, and his mind whirled with the possibilities of this night. Why had she been so eager to know about his relationship with Minthe? If he answered, would she succumb to him?
They stared at one another for a moment, and Hades released her hand, fingers trailing her palm. He reached to untie her mask. The movement felt intimate but right, and he had never felt so much longing. It curled in the bottom of his stomach and made his throat feel tight.
“Wine?” he asked as he approached the bar, removing his own cumbersome mask.
“Please.” She spoke quietly, and his chest felt heavy as he imagined that word poised upon her tongue as she begged him to fill her.
He poured her a glass and slid it toward her. She took it, her graceful fingers curling around the stem as she sipped. Hades watched her a moment, distracted by her mouth and the way her tongue snuck out to moisten her lips. Her gaze burned his skin, eyes starved.
“Hungry?” he asked. “You barely ate at the gala.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You were watching me?”
“Darling, don’t pretend you weren’t watching me. I know your gaze upon me like I know the weight of my horns.”
She averted her eyes, blushing. “No, I’m not hungry.”
Pity, he thought, pouring himself a glass of whiskey.
They found themselves on opposite ends of a table before the fireplace, a deck of cards sat at the center.