For the Love of Hades (Loves of Olympus 2)

Her words were angry. “Tell me why it is your smile and your voice that I listen for, for the sound of it is sweeter than anything else. Tell me why my mind and body ease from your scent… your touch. Tell me why my body aches and warms in places I’d not known existed until I felt the brush of your lips…”

“Stop!” He held up his hand. He could not listen. He could not breathe.

She stepped closer, her eyes aflame. “Why?”

He fell silent. He tore his gaze from her, searching for some distraction. Her fingers released her tunic and exposed her fully to him. He could feel the heat of her, for her curves nearly brushed against him. He swallowed, damning the longing that curled his fingers.

Sadness tinged her voice when she spoke. “You are not mine, I know that. But I would make you mine. In my heart, my soul, we are joined.”

“I cannot give you what you want,” he whispered, hating the desperation that colored every word.

She touched his cheek, shaking her head and moving one step closer. “I want you, Hades. Whatever you would give to me, I will take.”

He was lost then, he knew it. As did she. Her breasts throbbed in time with her rapid pulse, grazing his chest rhythmically. He felt his response. As did she.

He denied himself no longer, grabbing her to him, frantic in his need. His nose trailed down her neck and across her shoulder, inhaling deeply. Her body pressed against him, breast to chest, mouth to mouth. It was heady and hot, tender and right. She shook, a soft groan escaping her. She felt it too, this craving. A hunger he roused within her.

/> He pressed his lips to her throat and heard her whimper. He lifted her, carrying her back to his bed and laying her upon the furs once more. He did not hesitate this time, but let his mouth claim hers. His hands stroked the length of her, from neck to hip. Wherever he touched her, she trembled and sighed. He smiled against her lips, startled by this newfound power. She should be his, like this, for all time. She was made for him.

He rested, propped on one elbow, to watch. The vision, his hand upon her so, made him hunger for more. He caressed her side, his fingers trailing across her collar bone to cup her breast. She filled his hand and drove him mad with wanting. His thumb grazed her nipple, plucking it gently between forefinger and thumb until it pebbled hard from his touch. His lips followed, licking and nipping until she was writhing beneath him. The taste of her, the feel of her… how could he feel such tenderness and such crippling hunger for this woman?

Never had he felt so engorged with heat. His need bordered pain. When she parted her legs, he did not hesitate.

She wrapped her arms about him, kissing him deeply. His eyes sought hers, her hand found his. She stared up at him. He moved, pressing the throbbing tip of himself against her. Her heat startled him, warming him as he entered her. He did not stifle the groan that ripped from his throat as he breached her untried flesh. When it was done, he stilled, finding some thread of control to cling to. She was hot, her muscles cradling and clenching about him.

He stared down at her, knowing… and accepting that she had changed him forever. She was his, his and only his… No, she was his now, he cautioned himself. He did not care for the rage that swept through him at such a thought. Or the pain that swiftly followed.

“Hades.” Her hands cupped his face, smiling up at him. “Now you have all of me.” Her words inflamed him.

“Do I?” his words were strangled. His body demanded more. Was it only his body that demanded more? His heart ached…

He kissed her, ashamed of his selfishness, exhilarated by her love. He moved, unable to fully leave her before sliding deep once more. She gasped, but did not look away.

He groaned, the spasm of pleasure on her face affecting him to his core. She moved beneath him, each stroke deeper than the last. He gritted his teeth against the sharpening of his pleasure. She clung to him, her breathing labored. Her hands slid, holding tightly to his hips, and the fire in his blood roared. His rhythm changed, unleashed by the feel of her quivering about him. Each thrust was primal, hard and fast. He pushed into her, deeply, reveling into her every shudder.

Her cries grew ragged, breathless and raw. He watched her body flush, watched her nipples peak tightly and her body stiffen about him. Deep inside of her he felt her climax, her long, slow contractions driving him harder. She cried out. Her nails pierced his skin, clawing his back. He could not stifle the throaty groan that ripped from him as his release, wave upon wave, followed hers.

Such passion was new to him, giving him both exquisite satisfaction and bone wrenching grief. He rested his head upon her chest, fighting panic. He’d held her at bay for a reason. Releasing her without this intimacy would have been painful enough. But now… he swallowed, closing his eyes. He drew in long, slow deep breaths, listening to the rapid thrum of her heart. Her soft skin beneath him, the light press of her hands upon his back eased him.

He would not think of the days ahead.

He would savor what magic they’d shared. He lay, propped on top of her, with no desire to leave her. In the seconds afterward, his chest grew heavy and languid. He savored the sound of her heart, the rhythm of her breathing. Her hands moved slowly, tracing his back with her fingertips. The feel of her hands on him eased him all the more.

But how did she fare? Panic rose within him, but he forced himself to move, rising above her on his elbows.

She smiled, rosy and delighted. “Oh, Hades. That was… that was just as I knew it would be.”

He could do nothing but smile back, albeit reluctantly. “Was it?”

She shook her head quickly. “No, not at all. How could I have imagined such… such…” She laughed, cupping his face. “Kiss me.”

He laughed too, all too eager to kiss her. And though he’d meant to give her a chaste kiss, it quickly gave way to more. His body was not done with her. And so he kissed her, and reveled in the catch of her breath and the silk of her skin beneath him.

###

The fire burned low in the grate, casting leading shadows onto the ground. Erysichthon stared straight ahead, unable to make out the flames or the contents of the room. His eyes clouded and burned. He would move, he would leave this room with its smells of sickness and wasting. Yet, he could not. He’d not the strength to move. So he stared, unseeing, into the dying fire.

He would starve. There was no hope for it.