“It is you, Hades,” she whispered, placing her hand over her chest. Her heart seemed to stop as she waited for some sign, some reaction, to her clumsy confession. “It is you.”
His face revealed all.
Gone was the blank mask he wore. His pain and anger vanished, replaced by doubt and disbelief. His eyes widened, the crease marring his brow deepening as he searched her face. His inspection was wary, until his eyes fastened on her lips. The muscles in his throat and jaw flexed, his nostrils flared slightly.
She saw it, knew it for what it was. His mind might resist her, but his body did not. It was a start…
Ignoring the nervousness that tightened her stomach and squeezed her lungs, she moved forward, slid
ing onto his lap. He stiffened, but she did not hesitate. She faced him, her legs resting on either side of his thighs. He was very warm. He could toss her onto the floor, order her to leave, curse her… but she would not make it easy for him.
Her eyes met his, trembling from the hunger that gripped her. Did he feel it too?
She placed her hands on his shoulders and met his gaze. “I beg of you,” she whispered, leaning so close that her breath mingled with his. Dizziness swept through her, the heat in her belly making her light-headed. “Fight me no more.”
His eyes strayed to her lips again. She felt his hands twist in the fabric of her peplos, pressing against her hip. Whether he meant to set her away from him or draw her close, she could not tell. Mayhap he didn’t know either. She would help him decide.
Her hand lifted, brushing the midnight hair from his forehead and trailing down the side of his face. His eyes closed when her thumb grazed the slope of his cheek and nose. Her skin tingled at the contact.
Such fine features, so strong and handsome.
She exhaled slowly, the sound echoing in the still chamber. Her eyes dropped, tracing his lips, and her hand followed.
His hand caught her wrist, stilling her. His eyes were dark, almost black, as they bore into hers. But his hand trembled about her wrist, and her heart ached for him. She drew his hand to her lips, pressing a kiss on each of his knuckles and cradling his hand to her chest.
She heard his sharp intake of breath, but did not stop. She placed his hand against her cheek, holding it in place as she leaned forward to kiss him.
Once her lips found his, any hesitancy left her. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, yet not close enough. Her mouth clung desperately, breathing in his breath as his lips parted beneath hers.
His hand slid from her cheek, and she tensed, waiting for him to set her away from him. But he freed her hair, spreading the heavy locks about her shoulders.
He pulled back, staring at her, her face, her eyes, and her lips. His eyes were not so guarded, his desire warred with fear. “Persephone…”
“I will not leave you, Hades. Not tonight, nor tomorrow, never of my choosing. I swear it…” She spoke desperately. “I love you. You have my heart. Please… take the rest of me too.”
Chapter Fourteen
She was pressed against him, not in sleep or from illness. But because she chose to do so. It was the sweetest torture. Her every curve invited him. Her every breath mixed with his, and her words… She’d spoken them without hesitation.
She loved him. She would stay with him. Her words warmed him, melting the shards of ice from around his ill-used heart.
Her hair surrounded him. Her scent, flowers and earth and woman, tempted him sorely. Everything about her bid him welcome, enticing him to rise against her and make her his.
He could not think… Such feelings overtook his reason and will.
Her lips caressed his forehead, his cheek, the tip of his nose, the corner of his mouth… He breathed raggedly. Her lips were feather light upon his. She teased him, tugging upon his lower lip in earnest.
He gave in with a growl, turning into her kiss, mindless. His mouth parted beneath hers and his tongue invaded the hot wetness of her mouth with dizzying effect. Her hands tightened upon him, willing him to her. He caught her strangled cry with his mouth, his lips sealed to hers.
She wanted him.
His grip on her peplos loosened, but the satin skin of her thigh demanded his touch. She gasped as his palm caressed her flesh, sliding high beneath her tunic. She broke free from their kiss, her hands kneading his shoulders as his fingers gripped her hip.
His lips left hers. This was wrong. This was madness.
Her face was perplexed, startled by these new sensations perhaps? Her eyes were lustrous, sparkling as they regarded him. A joyful smile tugged at her mouth, weakening his resolve. Her hands wound through his hair, pulling him to her, eager for another kiss… He could not deny her. His hands anchored in the thickness of her locks, giving him leverage to greedily deepen his kiss and admit defeat.
For make no mistake about it, she had defeated him.