“Yes.” His rough voice in my ear. “Fuck, yes, I’m yours.”
I come hard, writhing against his hand and around his cock. Hades bends me back over the couch and finishes in a series of brutal thrusts. He pulls out, and I barely get a chance to miss the feel of him at my back before he returns and lifts me into his arms. After that first night visiting the winter market, I’ve stopped pseudo complaining about him carrying me around. We both know it’d be a lie if I kept it up, because I enjoy these moments just as much as he seems to.
He walks us into what’s become our bedroom and sets me down. I catch his wrist before he can move to the light switch like he normally does. “Hades?”
“Yeah?”
The urge to drop my gaze, to let this go, is nearly overwhelming, but after he’s demanded I be honest and vulnerable with him, I can demand nothing but the same in return. I meet his eyes. “Keep the lights on? Please.”
He goes so still, I think he stops breathing. “You don’t want that.”
“I wouldn’t ask for it if I didn’t want it.” I know I should stop pushing, but I can’t seem to help myself. “Don’t you trust me not to turn away?”
His breath shudders out. “It’s not that.”
That’s what it feels like. But saying as much puts him in a terrible position. I want his trust the same way he seems to crave mine; forcing the issue isn’t the way to get it. Reluctantly, I release his wrist. “Okay.”
“Persephone…” He hesitates. “Are you sure?”
Something flutters in my chest, as light and fluid as hope but somehow stronger. “If you’re comfortable with it, yes.”
“Okay.” His hands move to the buttons of his shirt and pause. “Okay,” he repeats. Slowly, oh so slowly, he begins to remove his clothing.
Even as I tell myself not to stare, I can’t help drinking in the sight of him. I’ve felt his scars, but they’re borderline gruesome to see in the light. The sheer danger he must have been in, the pain he survived, leaves me breathless. The burns cover most of his torso and down his right hip. His legs have some smaller scars, but nothing on the same level as his chest and back.
Zeus did this to him.
That bastard would have killed a small child the same way he killed Hades’s parents.
The desire to wrap this man up and protect him makes my tone fierce. “You’re beautiful.”
“Don’t start lying to me now.”
“I mean it.” I lift my hands and press them carefully to his chest. I’ve touched him there dozens of times now, but this is the first time I’ve seen him fully. Part of me wonders what happened to him in the years since the fire that has caused him to hide so effectively, even during sex, and the protective desire swirling through me gets stronger. I can’t heal this man’s scars, not internal or external, but surely I can help in some small way? “You’re beautiful to me. The scars are part of that, part of you. They’re a mark of everything you’ve survived, of how strong you are. That fucker tried to kill you as a child and you survived him. You’re going to beat him, Hades. You will.”
He gives me a ghost of a smile. “I don’t want to beat him. I want him dead.”
Chapter 21
Hades
I wake up with Persephone in my arms. It’s become my favorite part of the day, that first slide of awareness and the warmth of her. Despite what she said that first time, she’s a cuddler, and it doesn’t matter where we start out when we fall asleep, because she finds her way to me in the dark. Over and over again, every night we spend together in my bed.
If I was a hopeful kind of man, I’d see this as a sign of something more. I know better. She likes what we do together. She even likes me at least a tolerable amount. But the only reason we’re together right now is because we’re on parallel paths to make Zeus pay. The second that’s accomplished, this ends.
Neither of us is fool enough to believe the last few weeks are anything but the quiet before the storm. Everyone thinks Zeus is loud and brash, but he’s only that way to distract from what he’s doing behind the scenes. For three weeks, he’s been attending parties and acting as if nothing is wrong. Demeter hasn’t publicly followed through on her threat, but the shipments into the lower city have decreased a marked amount. If we hadn’t spent years preparing to be cut off, my people would be suffering right now.
All for pride.
I smooth Persephone’s golden hair back from her face. If I was a better man… But I’m not. I’ve set myself on this path and I’ll see it through to the end. I should be delighted that she wants to play out the fantasy I described to her that night. Maybe her fucking me isn’t enough to force Zeus’s hand, but every time she rides my cock in public, we get closer to that point. Every time the rumor mill swirls with what people have witnessed while visiting my playroom, her perceived value decreases in Zeus’s eyes. A brilliant move, even if I’m not making it for brilliant reasons.