His brow arched and his smile grew mocking. “Alliance?”
She felt her cheeks grow hot. “Your…”
“My marriage… You refer to my marriage?”
She answered him quickly. “It was most… unfortunate.”
His sudden burst of laughter startled her, and relieved her. Her words were thoughtless. He had every right to be offended. And yet he laughed. Such a laugh, beautiful and rich.
“It was, indeed.” His smile transformed him, making him even more handsome to her delighted eyes. “But I was married, Persephone.”
She took her time, soaking in the warmth of his smile. “I’m not so naïve as you think. I know love is a rare exception, even in marriage.” She smoothed a midnight lock from his forehead, finding the courage to go on. “I know she didn’t love you as I do. She didn’t love you as you deserve.”
Hades swallowed, pleasing her with his flustered expression and rising color.
“I did little to encourage her affections, withholding my time and attention…”
“Your time? Attention? What of your love?” She wanted to know. Had he loved her? Or was it as Hermes said? Had it been his pride, and not his heart, that had been so devastated? She didn’t know which would be worse, for him… and for her.
He said nothing, but his eyes bore into hers before slipping to her mouth.
She smiled.
He reached up to cup her cheek, shaking his head slightly. “I know nothing of love, Persephone.”
His words sliced through her. She did not worry that she could teach him love. That would be a joyous task. But she was sad that such a task was hers. He’d lived too long without knowing the blessings and comfort of love, even that of brotherly love, and she ached for his solitude. She placed her palm on his chest, looking at her sun-kissed hand upon his alabaster skin. His heart raced beneath her hand, giving her hope. They may have a chasm of differences between them, but it was not enough to stop her. She wanted him to be hers, irrefutably and for all times.
“Then let us learn of it together.”
“I cannot,” he repeated, gruff.
“Shh. In time, you might.” She placed a finger over his lips, shuddering as his lips kissed her fingertip. She removed her hand, placing it upon his chest once more. His heart thumped all the more. “Your heart tells me all I need to know.”
“When you…tire of me, of this, you are free to go.” His words were soft. “You owe me nothing, nor I you.”
She scowled at him, irritated at his quick dismissal. And he laughed again, the sound of it filling his chamber and her heart.
She slid from his hold, stretching as she stood. She wondered if she looked changed. She felt it. And she savored every ache, every surprising tug and soreness. He had left his mark upon her, and she was pleased by it. Did he look upon her? She grew nervous. Was he pleased by the sight of her nakedness? She’d been told she was lovely; she wanted him to think so.
“I’m hungry, my lord.” She glanced at him. He was watching her, most intently. Good.
His voice wavered, “Are you?”
She nodded, thrilled by the tightness of his mouth and the rigid line of his jaw. “And a bath? Better yet, is there a lake suitable for such things? A swim would be most welcome.”
His eyes traveled the length of her, making her body tighten and rise in welcome. She heard his sudden intake of breath and wondered at it. She had no wish to keep her heart’s desire from him. Her body, it seemed, felt the same. Should she? Was her behavior wanton? Anxiety rose, forcing her to seek out her discarded peplos. She found it, a forgotten heap, in the corner. She stooped, grasping the linen in her hand and shaking it out.
When she turned, she jumped. He was there.
He pulled the peplos from her hands and reached for her. His body and face were rigid, fraught with need. Smiling, she pressed herself against his bare form. He stared at her, his mouth finding and parting her lips without mercy. She swayed against him, stunned by his hunger for her. And her need for him. The desperation to join, to embrace him with her body, was sudden. His hands lifted her and she wrapped her legs about his waist.
The cool stone of the wall pressed into her back, while his hands tightly gripped her thighs.
She’d n
o breath in her lungs when he thrust up and into her. She whimpered as he entered her, her legs tightening about him. Her eyes met his and held. Between the cold marble at her back and the heat of his chest, the depth of his invasion, she could only feel. She held on to him, his every movement racking her with pure sensation. His hands cupped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh. She sucked in breath, his hands, his body, their rhythm, bringing her to a violent climax. She cried out as his body stiffened against her. He pressed his face against her throat, groaning brokenly.
Little was said afterward. She was too stunned, her body so drained she feared she would not manage to stand. He was equally dazed, though his hands held her close. Her legs spasmed, forcing her to lean into him. He turned, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he stepped away from the wall.