But Hades is being pushy, and as much as part of me enjoys it in a kind of baffled sort of way, the rest of me can’t help but push back.
He rises slowly to his feet, towering over me, and my body tenses in anticipation. Even with the irritating conversation, my earlier orgasm was…beyond words. He claimed my pleasure as his due, and it took him approximately thirty seconds to figure out how to wind me up and set me off. If he can do that with his fingers alone, what can he accomplish with the rest of his body?
More selfishly, I want to touch and taste him. I want to get beneath the fancy black suit and see everything this man has to offer. I haven’t craved someone so intensely since… I can’t remember when. Maybe Maria, the woman I met in a little hole-in-the-wall bar just outside the upper warehouse district a few years ago. She turned my world upside down in the best way possible and we still text sometimes, though our time together was never meant to be more than a fling.
Am I destined to have connections with people I’m only meant to be with for a short time?
The thought depresses me, so I put it away and reach for Hades. He catches my hands before I can touch him and shakes his head slowly. “You seem to be under the mistaken impression that you can simply reach out and take whatever you desire.”
“No reason not to take it when it’s what we both want.”
He drops my hands and takes a step back. “Get some sleep. We have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
It’s only when he reaches the door that I realize this isn’t a bluff. “Hades, wait.”
He doesn’t turn, but he does pause. “Yes?”
If humiliation could kill, I’d be a puddle of goo on the floor. Pride demands that I let him walk out of this room and curse his name until I finally fall asleep. I can’t hold a grudge nearly as well as Psyche or Callisto, but I’m no slouch. I instinctively know exactly what he wants from me, and I hate it. Yes, I definitely hate it.
I lick my lips and try for an unaffected tone. “You promised me a second orgasm if I behaved.”
“Do you really think you’ve behaved, Persephone?”
Every time he says my name, it feels like he’s running rough hands all over my bare skin. I shouldn’t love it as much as I do. I certainly shouldn’t want him to do it again and again and again. He still hasn’t looked at me. I lift my chin. “Do you know, I’m just hedonistic enough to be orgasm-motivated. I suppose I can promise to be on my best behavior tomorrow if you make it worth my while tonight.”
He laughs. The sound is a little ragged, almost rusty, but as Hades laughs, he turns to lean against the door. At least he’s not leaving yet. He slides his hands into his pockets, a move that should be completely mundane but has me fighting not to clench my thighs together. Finally, he says, “You’re making promises you have no intention of following through on.”
I give him innocent eyes. “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You, little Persephone, are a brat.” He gives another rusty chuckle. “Do those assholes in the upper city know that?”
I want to slap back with a quip, but for some reason, the question gives me pause. “No.” I shock myself by answering honestly. “They see what they want to see.”
“They see what you want them to see.”
I shrug. “I suppose that’s a fair assessment.” I don’t know what it is about this man that tempts me to put down the sunny persona—or weaponize it—but Hades is under my skin. I might be impressed under different circumstances. He is so determined to see me, when I am equally determined not to be seen. Not in that way. Vulnerability is an invitation to be cut down and taken apart piece by piece. I learned that the hard way the first year my mother took over as Demeter. The only people I can truly trust are my sisters. Everyone else either wants something from me or wants to use me to further their own agenda. It’s exhausting and so much easier to give them nothing at all.
Apparently that isn’t an option with Hades.
He’s watching me closely, as if he can draw the thoughts directly from my head like warm taffy. “I don’t expect perfection.”
That makes me give a scratchy laugh of my own. “Could have fooled me. You want perfect obedience.”
“Not really.” Now it’s his turn to shrug. “The game can be played many ways. In a single scene, most things are negotiated beforehand. This situation is infinitely more complicated. So I’ll ask you again—what do you want? Perfection obviously chafes. Do you want me to force obedience? Allow you your freedom and punish you when you step out of line?” His dark eyes are an inferno just waiting to burn me up. “What will get you off the hardest, Persephone?”