My Lord Hades (11 page)

Smiling, she raised her hand, palm up, and breathed, “Hades.”

He appeared before her, a strange look crossing his face. His calloused hand caressed her cheek and his warm mouth slanted across hers, demanding and hard. His arm slithered around her waist, drawing her closer. She stiffened and melted in equal measure. Her heart raced in a heady mixture of fear and pleasure. Just as she was starting to think Demeter was right about men, Hades ended the kiss.

He rested his forehead against hers; his entire body shuddered once, before he stepped away.

Wrapping his cloak tight around him, he hid his face. “I’m sorry. I should go before…”

“Before you ravish me?”

She hadn’t meant to say it, but the moment the words left her lips, she was glad she had. His head jerked up, his face stricken, and his beautiful blue eyes met hers.

“Yes,” he hissed. “Yes. Is that what you want to hear? That you set me aflame! That I want you as I have never wanted another woman! Does that please you?!” he snarled.

She felt the pain, the shame, and the fear in his voice and in his words. She wanted to soothe him, to make all right in his world, but she didn’t know how. Taking a hesitant step toward him, she reached out to touch his face, to caress the haggard look from it. She saw herself, an image through his eyes. Her long hair pooled around her head, a beatific smile curling her lips.

“I don’t understand, Hades.” He shook his head, turning away, and she panicked. “Please

don’t go. I want you to stay. I want to…” What did she want of him? And was it fair to ask it of him? “I’ve so many questions and I know you can answer them for me.”

“It would be unwise, Persephone.”

“Probably. But it would be nice to know men aren’t the monsters everyone keeps telling me they are.”

He remained with his back to her so she glided toward him and did something that placated her mother when her mood was foul. She wrapped her arms around his waist and snuggled up to his back. He stiffened.

“I want to understand the relationship between man and woman,” she murmured into his

back. “I want to understand why Athena and Artemis bemoan it while the nymphs and Aphrodite pursue it. I want to be with you.”

“Persephone,” he groaned. “You don’t know what you ask of me—”

“I ask you to be my friend. To speak truthfully with me. To kiss me again,” she said shyly.

He turned in her arms and gazed down at her for several seconds, though it could have been an eternity.

She stared right back at him.

“You’re a bold woman.”

She frowned, not sure if that was a compliment or a complaint. But then it didn’t matter for he was kissing her again. His hands came around her, lifting her into his arms, all without breaking contact with her lips. She gasped, and his tongue caressed the tip of her tongue.

HADES HADN’T meant any of this when he’d come to the garden. He just wanted to be

close to her, but she was standing in the garden, waiting for him, calling him to her. He’d responded like the brutish barbarians of his time, and been horrified by it, but right now, nothing could stop from kissing her.

Her tongue tentatively touching his. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck as he carried her to a secluded alcove. He broke the kiss long enough to lay her down on a bed of creeping thyme. The minty fragrance filled his nostrils as he knelt down beside her.

She was a vision in her creamy night rail. The edge of the dress riding up her shapely thigh and front pulled tightly over her breasts. He could almost see the hardened nipples through the cloth.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, demanding the throbbing erection between his

legs to behave. This wasn’t a dream, and as tempting as she looked staring up at him with those eyes darkened by passion, he wouldn’t take full advantage of her innocence. However, he would dispel the notions Artemis and Athena had placed in her head.

He caressed her soft cheek with the back of his fingers and she purred like a cat, arching into his touch. “The relationship between a man and a woman can be a beautiful thing, Persephone, although some find it otherwise. Men have much to offer women; their protection, their strength, and their shelter. But women have just as much to offer, and theirs is far more precious. They give men a home to return to, companionship during the lonely nights, a meal to sustain the body, and love to sustain the soul. A woman should be cherished by her husband.”

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers. Her response shocked him. She deepened the kiss, her tongue tracing his lips, pushing into his mouth to mate with his tongue. He pressed her deeper into the thyme, enjoying the soft give of her body.

She moaned in his mouth, her back arching upward and her pelvis grinding against his

engorged cock, in a movement as old as time. She was giving herself to him and only his self-control kept him from taking her. She couldn’t know what she was giving him.

HER BODY tingled and burned. Her belly fluttered and her loins ached. She was lost the

moment his lips touched hers. Her body came alive, demanding something she couldn’t explain.

Her hips bucked under him and the warning of earlier did nothing to dispel her desire to kiss him.

And his words to her, combined with the softness in his eyes as he spoke, only fueled it.

His hand stroked her cheek, trailed down the side of her neck, and traced the edge of her bodice. The delicious sensations he produced from her body made her shiver and crave more.

He started to pull away and she protested, writhing on the ground and releasing the sweet scent of thyme to envelop them. Pushing past the cloak, her hands roamed the hard planes of his chest, shoulders, and his back, willing him to experience the same need with her.

His fingers brushed the side of her breast and came to rest on her waist, while his other hand caressed the bare skin of her thigh. She gasped and arched against him, seeking more of what he was giving her.

“Persephone.”

The simple sound of her name on his lips was both a plea and a request. His husky voice held such longing and hunger. And it shocked her to realize that she mirrored it.

His hands slid off her body and his mouth descended upon hers. Her wanton behavior

shocked her, and yet she knew that if she had the experience she might ravish him instead, such was her desire for him.

“Please.”

“No, sweetling. Not this way,” he murmured in her ear. He drew her close to him, holding her tight. “This is but a taste of the pleasure that can be found between a man and woman.”

She wiggled against him, nestling closer, nipping at his neck, his jaw, his lip. She wanted to taste more of this pleasure. It felt so good. It felt so right.

“Please. No more, Persephone. I don’t have that much control.” His body slid off hers, and he lay beside her, pushing her head down on his shoulder. “I would have you as my wife before I show you the other pleasures.”

And with those words, her desire was doused. Marriage? Was he asking her to marry him?

Did she want to marry him?

She shook her head. He wasn’t asking her, he was telling her. If she wanted him, she would have to marry him. And she wasn’t ready for that, not yet anyway. Not until she knew her own mind. Not until she unlocked her memories.

THE EARLY morning light streamed through the canopy of leaves above his head and he

frowned at them. He couldn’t remember why they would be there. Last he remembered he was

drinking his dinner, striving to drown the desolation in his heart, and find blessed

unconsciousness.

Had he wandered into the Elysian Fields to sleep off his drunken stupor?

He hoped so because the images flashing before his eyes promised nothing good. He saw

Persephone dancing. He was drinking and staring out of the window overlooking the Elysian Fields. She was calling him to her. She was naked before him. He was touching her breast. They were kissing. They were on the ground, his hand on her thigh. The pure ecstasy on her face as he entered her, as she wrapped her shapely thighs around his waist and pulled him closer to her.

A soft groan beside him and the warmth laying there snuggling closer to his side, caught his full attention. He jerked his head toward the woman sleeping beside him and grimaced at the stab of pain in his brain. His vision sparkled with white lights and his stomach churned threateningly.

He waited for several more minutes before carefully glancing down at his sleeping partner.

There was no mistaking the auburn hair hiding most of her face or the small hands curled up under her chin. He rolled, rising up on his arm, trying to convince himself that one of the nymphs had crawled into his bed and that he wasn’t so stupid as to…to what? Come to Demeter’s garden and make love to her daughter!

He winced, cursing himself all kinds of fool. It looked as if his hope to lose consciousness had backfired. Fearing the worst, he quickly checked her vitals, relieved to find her whole, if not several steps closer to unlocking her latent powers. Had he ravished her as his sketchy memory seemed to suggest? Did this mean she was the one meant for him since the beginning of time?

Before the world was born? Was she a Phlegethon daemon-god like him? Could Persephone be

his wife, his queen, and his companion? Was it possible that she would share the long years of her life with him?

She’d never want for anything he could provide. She’d be able to enjoy the riches of the

Underworld, the diamonds and rubies and sapphires and opals. She could adorn herself with wealth that goddesses and mortals dreamt of, and he’d see to her every need. He’d keep her safe.

He’d cherish her. And maybe she’d melt the coldness in his warrior’s heart. Maybe one day he wouldn’t only lust after her but love her fully.

Or had imagined it all? Maybe nothing had happened between them? Maybe it was more

innocent then as it looked?

He reached for her shoulder to awaken her.

“Persephone! Where are you?”

Persephone sat up. Their heads collided. He winced. She stared at him in wide-eyed horror.

“She can’t catch you here,” she breathed, her voice shaking with terror. “Go, now! I’ll meet you here this afternoon.”

She rose, caressing the scared side of his face and kissing him, before rushing away. Relief washed over him. She didn’t hate or fear him. She feared for him if they were caught together.

And she was fully clothed, as was he, so he hadn’t ravished her as his brain seemed to think.

“Aunt Hestia! What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same, my dear. I came to speak with your mother and found her near

frantic. She’s tearing the suite apart looking for you. I promised to look for you in the garden with the flowers. But, my dear, what have done to your nightgown?” Hestia sounded shocked.

“You’ve grass stains on your bottom.”

Stifling a laugh, Hades grabbed his black cloak and threw it over his shoulders before placing the helmet of invisibility on his head. He wondered what excuse Persephone would tell her aunt and mother, but he wouldn’t stay to hear it. He had work to do.

He headed for the back corner of the garden, and in the space of a second, he arrived at the doorstep of his palace. There were a few hours before noon and he had some preparations to attend to, like asking Thanatos if men still paid a bride price. Because if they did, he needed to collect some gems. He also needed to prepare rooms for Persephone.

Hades entered his palace and sighed. A ragtag group of magical outcasts were waiting for

him. He’d made his call nearly a week ago, but the steady trickle of minor gods, daemons, and magical creatures were still arriving at the palace.

He introduced himself to the group as God of the Underworld, waited for the expected

exchange of looks, and laid out the simple rules they would follow in his kingdom, and gave everyone the duties they would perform in the Underworld before dismissing them to their tasks.

There were a few questions and protests that were systematically dealt with, and at last he was alone in the throne room. He slumped in his seat, feeling more like a defeated foe than a ruler. It was surprising at how quickly he settled into his new prison and how easily the denizens of the Underworld had been to accept the rule of a former occupant of Tartarus. Although it probably helped that he had intimate knowledge of the dark side of this terrible place as well as a personal claim to the lighter side.

He looked over at the throne beside him, imagining her sitting beside him. His companion, his wife, his queen, his equal.

Hades absently twirled the stem of small spring of lavender between his thumb and

forefinger, inhaling the sweet fragrance. The gentle scent calmed him as little else could and after the day he had, he needed it. Dealing with the furies was never a pleasant task. One would think the women would bathe the blood off once in a while, so their prey couldn’t smell them come.

Thanatos approached the throne, his steps as silent as a light breeze through leaves. “Still thinking of the girl?”

Hades lifted his eyes to the god. He couldn’t remember a time when Thanatos hadn’t worn a broad smile on his eternally young face. Even the platinum blond goatee he’d managed to grow didn’t take away from the youthful glow.

“What girl?”

Thanatos placed his hands behind his back in a parody of a steward and clucked his tongue while shaking his head sadly. “The girl who gave you the flower, oh fearless leader. You get this misty look in your eyes every time you look at it. So why don’t you bring the lady down here and make her your bride?”

“Mind your own business, Thanatos.”

“My business is this world. And since you happen to be the leader of the Underworld right now, you’re part of my business.”

“And if I tell you to jump in the River Lethe?” he growled.

“Then the Fates would be very angry with you, my liege. Since I would be unable to collect the shades of the dead,” Thanatos said without smiling, though his eyes twinkled with suppressed mirth. “Besides if you have a queen that makes you as happy as this woman apparently does, then when I petition for something, say a raise or a vacation, then you’ll be in a good mood and grant my request.”