Chapter 66

66

“Is this really necessary?” Persephone asked right before Hades grabbed her from behind and wrapped an arm around her throat.

“I’m not letting you walk into an unknown situation,” he growled in her ear, “I don’t care how public it is, until I’m confident you have some basic skills to take care of yourself. That’s twice you’ve been kidnapped so you’ll forgive me if I’m a tad overprotective of what’s mine. Now. Again.” His arm around her neck cinched tighter.

Just for his comment about her being his, she jabbed especially hard with her elbow into his gut, like he’d spent the last few hours teaching her. She went to stomp on his instep, too, but he maneuvered out of the way. She growled in frustration and he only tightened his arm more.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh. He was fucking laughing at her?

She tried to scream her fury but it was muffled by his giant stupid arm restricting her airflow. Not completely, but enough to be uncomfortable.

The next thing she knew, he’d swept her legs and had her on the mat, his big body crouched over hers.

“How many times do I have to tell you to turn your head to the side to free your airway? You get too excited about jabbing me but you’d be passed out before you had the chance to do any real damage or escape if you don’t remember the basics.”

She bit the inside of her bottom lip. Don’t scream in his face. Don’t scream in his face. It’ll only make him more smug.

They’d been at this for hours and she swore they spent far more time down on the mat, him pinning her and droning on about defensive moves than actually practicing them. She’d told him that yesterday in the bathroom had been a one time slip up and she meant it. They were not back together.

“Turn your head to the right so your windpipe isn’t obstructed, then attack only long enough to get free.”

For once she’d like to get the jump on him.

“All right.” She raised her arms above her head, giving a little stretch that made her breasts jiggle. A thrill of satisfaction went through her when Hades’s gaze dropped to her form-fitting t-shirt.

“I’m sooo tired,” she mock-yawned. “You’re so big and strong. Fighting you is hard work.”

Hades’s brows knitted together. Oops, she overdid it. Rubbing a hand over her upper chest to distract him, she offered an innocent smile. “Grab me again?”

This time when his arms closed around her, she turned her head. Her hand went to his groin, but instead of striking, she cupped the hard ridge and gave it a good rub with her palm. Hades stilled, holding his breath as if wondering what she’d do next.

She lifted her legs, creating unexpected dead weight. When he lurched forward, off balance, she twisted out of his grip and scurried away. Hades landed on the floor.

“Ha!” She did a victory dance. Her would-be attacker lay face down on the ground, unmoving. Oh crap. “Hades? Hades? Did I hurt you?”

She worried her lip, tip-toeing closer. He’d hit the floor pretty hard. Had she hurt him somehow?

Her foot nudged his side and he snapped into action, grabbing her ankle, pulling her leg out from under her. She shrieked but he caught her and cushioned her landing.

Persephone found herself once again on her back with a large, aroused male rearing over her. With a stone expression, Hades grabbed her hand and brought it back to the front of his workout shorts, using her palm to stroke himself, harder than she would’ve done. His eyes were steel. “You think this is funny? A game?”

She shook her head, wide-eyed. Her hair spilled over the floor. “Hades, I was just?—”

“You touch anyone else like that, I’ll kill them.”

She flinched at the vow. He smiled, the corners of his mouth turning sharp. “Other than that, well done.” He raised her palm and kissed it.

She gave a tentative smile. “Thank you?” Her voice went breathless as he licked up her lifeline, a tongue stroke she felt in her groin.

“Hades,” she wriggled. “Let me go.”

He shook his head. “You made a mistake, angel.” Slowly he lowered himself over her, keeping her pinned. He shook his dark hair from his face. “You should’ve run while you had the chance.”

With a hard hand gripping her right breast, he lowered his head to nip and suck at the vulnerable junction of her throat. And everything in her rose up—all the longing and bone-aching need—a dizzying rush of arousal. Yesterday hadn’t been enough. It would never be enough.

She was almost too far gone when Hades slid his hand up to lightly collar her throat.

“Persephone,” he growled. “My own.” His hand flexed, lightly squeezing the way she used to love, used to beg for, when she was old Persephone and willing to succumb, to let him subsume her until she was completely under?—

“Mine,” he said, and it was enough to jar her back to reality.

She jerked her knee up—he twisted to block it, but she rammed his inner thigh until he rolled off of her.

She rose, tugging her clothes back into place, willing herself not to face her husband. She could see him in the wall mirror, though. He sat, face carefully blank, watching her from the floor. Part of her longed to comfort him, but to what end? There was a chasm between them, filled with secrets and lies. She couldn’t breach it, not even for a moment. Not even for him.

It was better this way. She would leave and shower and change, and stick to the plan.

“I told you earlier. Yesterday was a mistake. I’m not yours.” She headed for the door. “Not anymore.”