“I haven’t wanted to share you with the voyeurs from the upper city.” He says it so simply, as if he’s not dropping a bomb. Hades tugs off the throw blanket I’ve curled up under and tosses it onto the floor. “You’re right, though. It’s possible they haven’t moved yet because we haven’t forced them to.”
I go a little melty at the feeling of his hand closing around my ankle. It’s always like this with him. I keep waiting for the intensity to fade, for ready access to each other to wear off the shine of having sex with each other. It hasn’t happened yet. If anything, the last couple of weeks have made me want him more. I’m Pavlov’s dog. He touches me, and I’m instantly aching for him.
What were we talking about?
I give myself a mental shake and try to focus. “Are we trying to make them act?”
“We’re trying to hurt them. Or him, at least.” Hades slides his hand up my calf to hook the back of my knee and tug me down the couch to him. We came straight up to his room after having dinner at a charming little restaurant down the street, so I’m still wearing one of the flirty dresses Juliette put together for me. From the heated way Hades rakes his gaze over me, he likes it even better when it’s bunched around my upper thighs. “Show me.”
I reach down with shaking hands and pull my dress up, just a little, just enough to give him a look beneath it.
Hades raises his brows. “Look at you, wearing panties like a good girl.”
“Yes, well, sometimes I like the tease.” I let the skirt fall to my waist and tug my panties to the side. It doesn’t matter that Hades has seen and had his mouth over every inch of me. It feels wicked to do this, and riding the edge of that feeling is an addiction I’m not sure I’m ever going to shake. I can’t think about that now, can’t contemplate after.
After the winter is over. After I’ve gained my freedom. After I walk out of Hades’s life forever.
He tugs me another few inches closer and leans down to settle between my spread thighs. A single look and I release my panties and prop myself up on my elbows. Hades presses an openmouthed kiss to the silk. I whimper. “Gods, that feels good.”
He seems to have no interest in moving my panties out of the way, working me through the fabric slowly, getting me all wet and slippery. It’s only when I’m breathing hard and fighting not to lift my hips that he looks up. “We’ll have a party tomorrow.”
“A…party.”
“Mm-hmm.” He finally, finally nuzzles the panties to the side and gives my pussy a slow, thorough kiss. “Tell me what you want. Describe it in detail.”
I have to bite back a moan. “What?”
“Now.”
I stare down at him. He wants me to describe what I want right now, while he’s tongue-fucking me? Apparently so. I bite my bottom lip and try to focus through the waves of pleasure he’s sending through my body. I’ve had a lot of time to get to know my tastes and Hades’s tastes, but this feels like a completely different level. “I, uh, I want…”
I don’t want to tell him.
I dig my fingers into his hair and lift my hips to give him better access. The next lick never comes. Despite my grip on him, Hades lifts himself easily away from me. His brows draw together as he searches my face. “With all we’ve done in the last few weeks, what could you possibly want that has you hesitating now?”
“I like being with you. I love what we do together.”
He frowns harder. “Persephone, if I wasn’t ready to give you whatever you need, I wouldn’t have asked.”
I don’t want to. I really, really don’t want to. It’s too wrong, too dirty, even for us. I know it’s hypocritical in the extreme to call Hades out for holding back with me and then turn around and do the same to him, but it feels different. It is different.
He moves while I’m still fighting with myself, sitting up and hauling me into his lap. My back to his chest, my legs spread to the outside of his thighs. Just like I was that night where he made me come and then I rode his cock in front of everyone.
The same night that seeded the fantasy I’m afraid to put to voice.
Hades slides his hand into my panties to palm my pussy and push two fingers into me. Then he stills, holding me in place in the most intimate way possible. “You’re tense, little siren. Is this bringing back memories?”
“Of course not. Why would you say that?” I speak too quickly, my voice too breathy to make my bravado the least bit convincing.
He kisses my neck and moves up to my ear. “Tell me.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Do you think I’ll judge you?”
It’s not that. I whimper as he curls his fingers along my inner wall. Just like that, the truth spills from my lips. “I don’t want to do anything you don’t want to do.”
He goes still for one long moment and then chuckles against my skin. “I hit a nerve that night, didn’t I?” Another delicious curl of his fingertips. His voice rumbles in my ear. “Say it. Tell me what fantasy you’ve had playing in the back of your mind since that party.”
My resistance crumbles. I close my eyes. “I want to be the one on the dais. Not in the shadowy corner with you. Right out there in the spotlight while you fuck me in front of everyone. Where you claim me and make me yours
