Neon Gods (Dark Olympus 1)

“Prove it,” Demeter snarls.

I sense her behind me a moment before Persephone lightly touches my shoulder. In the monitor, I see her at my shoulder, wrapped in my sheet. Her hair is tangled and there’s whisker burn on her neck and what little of her chest is in view. She leans down and glares at the screen. “I am where I want to be, Mother. I’m very happy with Hades.” She reaches over my shoulder and shuts the laptop.

I twist slowly to look at her. “You just hung up on the Thirteen.”

“Fuck them.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or bundle her up and take her somewhere that will protect her from Zeus’s inevitable revenge. “Persephone.”

“Hades.” She matches my censoring tone. “They weren’t going to believe you if they didn’t see it for themselves, and half of them still won’t believe. Letting Zeus rant just wastes everyone’s time. You should be thanking me.”

“I should be thanking you?”

“Yes.” She climbs into my lap and straddles me. “You’re welcome.”

I let my hands rest on her hips. “They have no idea who you truly are, do they?”

“No.” She runs her hands up my chest, her expression contemplative. “But then, I don’t really know who I truly am, either. I was hoping getting out of Olympus would help me figure it out.”

I cover her hands with my own. “You’re still getting out of Olympus.” It pains me to say it, but none of that leaks into my tone. I made a promise, and no matter how much I’ve enjoyed going round with her the last few days, I will hold to it. We have until April. It will be enough.

It has to be enough.

She gives me a sad little smile. “I’m going to have to call my sisters soon to check in again if you don’t want them storming the place.”

“I’ll get you a phone today.” I pause. “One that isn’t tapped.”

“Thank you.” She gives me a beautiful smile. I stare up at her in something akin to shock. I’ve seen Persephone cunning and sunshiny and angry. I’ve never seen her like this. Is this happiness? I’m afraid to ask, only to find it’s just another version of her usual mask.

Persephone presses a quick kiss to my lips and then slides off my lap and down to the floor to kneel between my thighs. She gives me an expectant look, and I put aside my tangled feelings to focus on the here and now. “Want something, little siren?”

She runs her hands over my thighs and bites her bottom lip. “You promised if I hit my knees and asked nicely, I could have your cock.” She reaches for the front of my slacks. “I would very, very much like your cock, Hades. Please.”

I catch her hands. “You know you don’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” She gives me an imperious look, as if she’s indulging me. “Telling me I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do is ridiculous, because I want to do everything with you. Absolutely everything.”

She’s just talking about sex, but my heart still gives a dull thump in response as if waking from a long sleep. Rusty and unused but still alive. I release her and press my shaking hands to the arms of my chair. “Then don’t let me stop you.”

“I’m so glad you’re seeing things my way.” She opens my slacks and draws my cock out. Persephone licks her lips. “Oh, Hades. I kind of wish I had any artistic ability at all, because I would love to paint you.”

I’m still processing that strange statement when she leans down and takes my cock into her mouth. I expect… I don’t know what I’m expecting. I should realize by now that Persephone is never quite what I think she’ll be. She sucks me down as if she wants to taste and luxuriate in every inch. A warm, wet slide that has every muscle in my body going tense. I fight to hold still, to let her have this moment as she finishes her exploration and looks up.

Her eyes have gone dark and the color is high in her cheeks. “Hades?”

“Yeah?”

She kneads my thighs with her fingertips. “Stop being so freaking nice to me and tell me what you want.”

Shock has me answering honestly. “I want to fuck your mouth until you cry.”

She gives me a beautiful smile. “There. Was that so hard?” Persephone inches back. “You play the big, bad wolf, but you’ve been so careful with me since we met. You don’t have to be. I promise I can take everything you give me.” She lets the sheet fall to the floor around her. The woman says she wants to paint me, but she’s the artwork, the very picture of the siren I’ve named her.

I’m starting to think I would gladly drown for this woman.