A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone 1) - Page 88

She shivered and then ran.

CHAPTER XVII – THE OLYMPIAN GALA

Persephone couldn’t sleep.

She felt charged as unspent energy coursed through her veins, making her body feel flushed beneath the blankets. She pushed them off but found little relief. Her thin cotton nightgown was like a weight against her skin, and when she moved, the fabric brushed against her sensitive breasts. She curled her fingers into fists and clamped her thighs together in an attempt to stop the pressure building in her core.

And she could think of no one else but Hades—the press of his body against hers, the heat of his kiss, the feel of his tongue tasting more than the skin of her collarbone.

She sighed, frustrated, and shifted in bed, but the pulsing didn’t stop.

“This is ridiculous,” she said aloud and got to her feet. She paced her room. She should be focusing on fulfilling the terms of the contract with Hades, not kissing the King of the Dead.

Stupid favor, she thought.

Each time Hades kissed her, things went farther and farther. Now she’d been brought to the edge of something she didn’t understand—something she hadn’t explored and couldn’t shake.

She looked at her bed—the rumpled comforter made it appear like she’d shared it with someone. She clenched and unclenched her fists. She had to make this feeling go away or she wasn’t going to sleep, and she had too much to do. She and Lexa had to go shopping and get ready for the Olympian Gala.

She made a split decision and stepped out of her panties. The cool air eased the tension in her core—just barely. It also made her hyper-aware of the dampness between her thighs. Lying down again, she moved her legs apart and drew her fingers along her thigh until they trailed her sex. She was wet and hot, and her fingers sank into a part of her she had never touched. She gasped, arching her back as she pleasured herself. Her thumb found the sensitive bud at the apex of her thighs—and she worked it the way Hades had taught her, until her body felt electric and waves of pleasure made her dizzy and unaware.

She rolled onto her knees, working herself hard, imagining it was Hades hand in place of hers, imagining that she could fill his hard length inside her. She knew that if Minthe hadn’t interrupted, she would have let Hades take her in the pool. That thought spurred her on. Her breath came harder and she moved faster.

“Tell me you’re thinking about me.” His voice came from the shadows—a chill breeze against a bright flame.

Persephone froze and rolled, finding Hades standing at the end of her bed. She couldn’t tell what he was wearing in the dark, but she could see his eyes, and they glittered like coals in the night.

When she said nothing, he prompted, “Well?”

Her thoughts scattered. A small shaft of light fell across a cheekbone and his full lips. She wanted those lips in all the places she felt fire. She rose onto her knees and kept his gaze as she removed her nightshirt completely. Hades growled low in his throat and braced himself against the footboard of the bed.

“Yes,” she breathed. “I was thinking about you.”

The tension in the air thickened. Hades spoke in a growl that made Persephone’s skin prick.

“Don’t stop on my account.”

Persephone began where she left off. Hades inhaled between gritted teeth as he watched her pleasure herself. At first, she maintained eye contact, reveling in the feel of his eyes roving every inch of her skin, reveling in this sin. Soon the pleasure was too much, and her head rolled back, her hair spilled down her back, exposing her breasts for Hades’ viewing.

“Come for me,” he urged, and then commanded again. “Come, my darling.”

And she did with a strangled cry. Sweet release pulsed through her and she collapsed onto the bed. Her body shook, coming off the high. She breathed deep, inhaling the smell of pine and ash, and as she regained her scattered thoughts, the reality of her boldness descended like her mother’s wrath.

Hades.

Hades was in her bedroom.

She sat up with a start, scrambling for her nightshirt to cover her bare skin. It was a little ridiculous, given what had happened between them. She

started to lecture Hades on his abuse of power and breach of privacy when she discovered she was alone.

She craned her neck around the room.

“Hades?” She whispered his name, feeling both ridiculous and nervous at the same time. She pulled on her nightshirt and slipped off the bed, checking every corner of her room, but he was nowhere to be found.

Had her desire been so strong she hallucinated?

Feeling uncertain she climbed into bed, eyes heavy, and fell asleep to the rhythmic reminder that hallucinations don't smell like pine and ash.

Tags: Scarlett St. Clair Hades & Persephone Fantasy
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