Chapter X: Hades

CHAPTER X

HADES

Hades kept the tip of Cronos’s scythe.

He hated the feel of it—heavy and hot, as if the metal might burn through the fabric of his pocket and brand his chest. When he returned to his chambers, he reached inside to check it but found the metal was cool to the touch.

He was going to need it when he confronted Poseidon about how it had found its way inside a mortal man and far from his shores.

The blade itself was forged partly from adamant and had been given to his father by Gaia. It had the ability to wound the divine. Cronos had used it to castrate his father, and the blood that had dripped to the earth birthed the Furies, the Goddesses of Vengeance and Retribution.

Once Zeus had rescued Hades and Poseidon from Cronos’s bowels, they had taken his scythe, the weapon that had come to symbolize his power and struck fear in other gods, and tossed it deep into the ocean.

Then, Poseidon had been a different person, as they all had been, but it was never too late for regret, especially seeing the chaos his brother was so willing to cause.

Being mortal, Adonis would not have survived a single stab wound, much less the fourteen that had punctured his body. Equally as worrying was the fact that someone was still in possession of the rest of the blade. Being broken did not make it any less powerful.

What if these attackers went after a god? Even a minor one?

What things might spring from their blood?

Mortals likely did not understand the consequences of god killing, but Poseidon was well aware.

A shocking wave of hatred twisted his gut. He could not figure out who exactly he felt it for more—Cronos or Poseidon. Whatever game his brother was playing was dangerous. Something was happening, moving beneath the surface of the world. There were too many weapons that could cause harm to gods—first the ophiotaurus, now the scythe, and Demeter’s fucking snowstorm did not help mortal opinion of the gods. What was next?

The more he learned, the more he feared for Persephone.

He looked up, expecting to find Persephone sleeping or even awake and waiting for him, but the bed was empty. He panicked for only a second before managing to relax. He could feel her here in the Underworld, her presence skating across his skin as if she were beside him.

She was near.

He left their room and started his search of the castle, finding her rather quickly in the kitchen. She stood behind the island mixing some kind of batter in a bowl. She was completely oblivious to his presence, and he liked it that way for now. He could observe her freely, without any sort of mask she might put in place to hide herself.

He should not be surprised to find her baking—she did this often when she could not sleep. She hummed quietly as she sprinkled flour into the bowl and paused now and then to sip from a bottle of his whiskey, which was almost gone.

His brows rose at how easily she seemed to be consuming it, recalling that the last time she’d tried it, she hated it.

He wondered just how drunk she was.

When Persephone finished mixing, she poured her mixture into a pan, and he watched as she smoothed the spatula over the top and then brought it to her lips to lick away what remained.

She hummed her approval, which was Hades’s sign to make himself known, because he too wanted to know how it tasted—but on her tongue.

“How does it taste?”

He manifested behind her, so close his cock pressed into her ass. He leaned forward as she turned her head toward his voice and answered.

“Divine.”

She turned in the small space he had given her and gathered some of the batter onto her finger.

“Taste,” she implored.

Hades took her hand to lick at the batter, and then he closed his mouth over her finger and sucked hard and slow, holding her gaze until he was finished. The way she watched him made him groan, and his hips settled against hers, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

“Exquisite,” he said, his voice quiet. “But I have tasted divinity and there is nothing sweeter.”

He was trying to decide how to continue what they had started at Sybil’s when she turned away from him abruptly. She returned the spatula to the bowl and picked up the brownies. He took a step back as she shifted to the oven. He could feel and see the heat as she opened the door. It seemed to melt the very air.

“Where were you?” she asked as she slid them onto a rack.

“I had business,” he said, which he realized was not the best reply, especially when she slammed the oven door.

She turned to him, her gaze more of a glare. “Business? At this hour?”

His business was always at this hour, which was anywhere from the middle of the night to early morning.

“I make bargains with monsters, Persephone,” he said. “And you, apparently, bake.”

She did not like his answer because she did not come to him like he wanted. He thought of how he’d left her in the limo, desperate and wanting. Perhaps he was stupid to hope that when he came home, she would be waiting to rekindle that same wild desire.

Or perhaps she’d taken care of herself and did not need him, but she did not seem so much sated as she was tired.

“You couldn’t sleep?”

“I didn’t try,” she said.

Hades frowned and then nodded to the bottle on the counter. “Is that my whiskey?”

Hades wasn’t sure why she needed to look—she was well aware of what he was pointing out—but when she did not look at him again, he felt like perhaps it was an excuse to avoid him altogether.

“Was,” she answered, and he moved closer, coaxing her gaze to return to his and pressing his mouth to hers. She tasted like chocolate and whiskey, and it truly was divine. Her hands fisted into his jacket, and she pulled him closer, sealing their bodies together.

“I ache for you,” he growled against her mouth. He let his hands smooth down her back to her ass, squeezing her with one and moving the other between them to tease her hot center. Her breath caught in her throat, and he knew she was already wet for him. Perhaps her desire had not ceased since he’d left, and when he entered her body, she would be drenched and dripping.

Fuck.

His cock tightened at the thought, and he felt like his whole head was going to explode.

He continued to kiss her while he touched her, and though he’d have liked to lift her onto the counter then and taste her, he also recognized that the way this had begun was in the aftermath of that fucking game, and he needed to make a few things clear before they continued.

He moved his hand from between her legs and instead rolled his hips into hers.

“Let’s play a game.”

“I think I am done with games for the night,” she said.

“Just one,” he said—urged, really.

He kissed along her jaw and then reached for the batter-covered spatula she’d used earlier.

She looked at it and then at him.

“Never have I ever,” he murmured as he smoothed the batter over her chest.

Persephone shivered against him. “Hades—”

“Shh,” he said, and when she pressed her lips together in firm frustration, he touched the spatula to her mouth. When she started to lick at it, he pressed it against her lips as if it were a finger to hush her. “Stop. That’s for me.”

She held his gaze, and he felt her uncertainty and her curiosity. Her lips parted and she waited.

He continued. “Never have I ever wanted anyone but you.”

“Never?” she questioned. He didn’t think she even realized how skeptical she sounded. “Even before you knew I existed?”

“Yes.”

His answer sounded more like a hiss as it slipped between his teeth, but he was closing the distance between them, drawing his tongue over her mouth, sucking her bottom lip between his teeth. She tasted so good, so sweet, so right.

He let his body rest against hers as she found purchase against the counter, his lips teasing along her jaw as he whispered truths against her skin.

“Before you, I only knew loneliness, even in a room full of people—it was an ache, sharp and cold and constant, and I was desperate to fill it.”

“And now?” The question was almost a demand, as if she did not care about before anymore, just now, just this moment.

Hades smiled as he continued his exploration of her body, making his way to her chest.

“Now I ache to fill you,” he said and licked the batter he’d used to mark her skin. His hands moved to cup her breasts, and he teased her nipples, which strained against the silky fabric of her gown. She took that as an invitation to try to undress him, but he wanted control because he still had questions.

He let his hands fall to her ass again, and he lifted her onto the edge of the counter, spreading her legs wide as he stepped between them.

“Tell me about tonight.”

It wasn’t a question, and his hands smoothed over her thighs, beneath the hem of her dress. Persephone squirmed beneath his touch. He imagined if he were not wedged between her thighs, she would have them closed and rubbing together just to create some kind of friction to ease her suffering.

“I don’t want to talk about tonight,” she said in a breathy moan.

She reached for his hand and drew him closer to her entrance, and while he would not give her exactly what she wanted just yet, he would take pleasure in teasing her until she answered his questions.

He circled a finger along her opening, around her clit, but he did not touch it, though he could feel it straining and swollen.

“I do,” he said. “You were upset.”

Persephone didn’t look at him. Her eyes were closed, her brows furrowed in concentration even as she admitted, “I feel…stupid.”

Well, that was something at least, even if he did not like that she felt that way.

“Never,” he said as he slipped an arm around her shoulders, his finger dipping into her sweet heat. “Tell me.”

Her fingers dug into his biceps.

“I was jealous that you had shared so much with so many before me, and I know you cannot help it and that you have lived so long…but I…”

Her breath caught in her throat and her legs tightened around him as he continued to use his fingers and thumb to pleasure her, but it did not matter. He did not need to hear any more.

He leaned closer to her, his mouth hovering over hers. “I’d have had you from the beginning,” he said. “But the Fates are cruel.”

“I was only given to punish,” she said.

Those words were like a knife to his chest. She was referring to the fact that while the Fates had granted Demeter’s wish to have a child, it had come with one consequence—her life would be intertwined with Hades’s, one of the gods Demeter hated most.

As much as it seemed to be an insecurity for her, it also was for him.

Still, he refused to think too long on it—to consider that just as their futures had been woven, they could also be unraveled.

“No,” he soothed. “You are pleasure. My pleasure.”

He pressed his mouth to hers, fingers continuing to move inside her slick heat and tease her clit until her legs were so tight around him, he thought she would burst. That was the point he wished to drive her to over and over so that when she finally came, it would leave her in no doubt of his obsession.

He left her body, and she gave a guttural, angry cry. He liked it. He liked the wetness dripping from his fingers and the way she glared at him as he guided her to her back.

“It is you now, you forever,” he said as she lifted her heels onto the edge of the counter, letting her legs fall open. He braced his hands on her thighs, his eyes falling to her exposed, pink center. It was swollen and wet, and he bent to taste her, licking from the bottom to the top, suckling gently on her clit, which felt thick in his mouth.

He fucking loved it. His mouth watered for it, and she bent to his will beneath him, writhing beautifully as if she had never felt him this way before.

When he entered her, she practically suctioned to his fingers, her flesh so swollen.

It wouldn’t take long to bring her to release.

She groaned between long bouts of holding her breath, reaching to tangle her fingers in his hair, to hold him tight against her for fear he would stop—and stop he did.

“What are you doing?” she demanded as he pulled her up and off the counter.

She glared up at him as he held her, his fingers biting into her body.

“When I’m finished, the next time we play that damned game, you’ll walk away so drunk, I’ll have to carry you home.”

“So what? You intend to fuck me in all the ways I haven’t been fucked tonight?”

Yes, he thought, his cock straining. He wanted to feel her around him—all that swollen heat coaxing come into her body as if she were starved for it.

“Technically, it’s morning,” he said in a breathless chuckle.

“I have to go to work soon.”

“Pity,” he said and turned her around and pushed her until her cheek met the granite countertop.

She bent to his will, as malleable as ever, and when he sank into her, she gasped, back bowing beneath him as he pumped into her in short, measured thrusts. He moved his hand from the back of her head and cupped it over her mouth, letting his fingers dive past her lips.

She sucked them hard, and his dick grew taut inside her, his head swimming with nothing but her. Then he pulled her up, her back as close to his front as possible, his thrusts more like grinds.

“I haven’t forgotten your earlier claim,” he said, his mouth near her ear.

“I lied,” she said, her words barely audible, she was so lost in the pleasure of this moment.

“I know, and I intend to discourage such lies,” he said, mouth closing over her skin, sucking any part of her that was exposed to him. “I will fuck you to the point that you are desperate for release—over and over again so that when you finally do come, you won’t even remember your name.”

“You think you’ll be able to stop?” she said, breathless, and yet there was a challenge to her voice. “To deprive yourself of the satisfaction of my orgasm?”

He smiled against her. “If it means hearing you beg for me, darling—yes.”

He pushed her head toward his and their mouths collided. He felt completely out of control, and he refused to find it. All he wanted was to lose himself in this, in her.

He pulled away and turned her toward him, hooking her leg over his arm to enter her again, to kiss her again. He didn’t really care which position he took her in so long as he was inside her, so long as she was delirious with pleasure. And when her body began to quiver, he lifted her up and pressed her against the wall for support and continued his hungry exploration of her body.

“I love you. I have only ever loved you.”

The truth of those words tightened his chest.

“I know,” she said, a nearly inaudible reply.

“Do you?”

He was not sure she could ever understand the depth of his feeling, how completely and utterly grateful he was for every moment he had with her.

But then, he also could not pretend to understand her either.

As much as he had hoped, as much as he had wished for a reprieve from this world, a single bright spot in his life, she had too.

“I know,” she said vehemently. “I love you. I just want everything. I want more. I want all of you.”

“You have it,” he said, her declaration urging him on.

His mouth met hers and he held her to him tightly, one hand digging into her flesh, the other pressed to the wall for support as he drove into her, finally ready to make her come, ready to come himself.

But the distinct feel of Hermes’s magic entering the Underworld made him stop.

“Fuck!” he snapped with all the venom in the world.

It was the second time the god had interrupted them, and for that, he would pay.

He left Persephone’s quivering body, her angry and anguished cry making his body ache. She thought he only meant to torture her more before he allowed release, but she would understand soon enough.

He had just managed to adjust Persephone’s dress and himself when Hermes appeared. And while at first Hades had expected some sort of snide comment about the air smelling like sex and brownies or admonishing their fucking in the kitchen where food was made, Hermes looked completely…desolate.

Fuck. Something horrible had happened.

“Hades, Persephone—Aphrodite has asked for your presence. Immediately.”

Hades did not mind going, but Persephone?

He held her closer.

“At this hour?”

“Hades,” Hermes almost begged, his face growing paler by the second. “It’s…not good.”

Hades’s heart stuttered in his chest. Who was it now? he thought. Hephaestus?

“Where?”

“Her home.”