I push slowly to my feet and smooth back her hair. Fuck, she’s so beautiful, she steals my breath. I want her more than I’ve wanted anything else in my life, a fact I’m not prepared to look too closely at. I twist her hair around one fist and give it a tug. “If it’s too much, slap my thigh.”
“It won’t be too much.”
I tap her bottom lip with my thumb. “Open.”
Persephone is all wicked pleasure as I ease my cock into her mouth. I start off slowly, letting her adjust to the angle, but the dark desire to do exactly as I described is too strong. I pick up my pace, thrusting deeper into her mouth. Into her throat. She closes her eyes.
“No. Don’t do that. Look at me while I fuck your mouth. Witness what you’re doing to me.”
Instantly, she opens her eyes. Persephone goes loose and relaxed, submitting to me fully in this moment. I know it won’t last, which makes it all the sweeter. Pleasure builds with each thrust, threatening to tear me to pieces. It only gets more intense when tears slide from the corners of her eyes. I cup her face and wipe them away with my thumbs, tender even in this moment of restrained brutality.
It’s too much. It will never be enough. “I’m going to come,” I grind out.
She runs her hands up my thighs and gives me a squeeze. An assent. It’s all the permission I need to let go. I try to keep my eyes open, try to savor every moment of this gift she’s giving me as I drive into her willing mouth and orgasm. Persephone drinks me down, holding my gaze. She looks at me like she sees me. Like she’s loving this just as much as I am.
I’ve never felt so fucking owned in my life.
I don’t know what to do with it, how to process it. I force myself to release her, and she gives my cock one last lazy suck before leaning back and licking her lips. Tear tracks mark her cheeks and she grins, looking particularly pleased with herself. It’s a contrast I don’t know what to do with so I yank her to her feet and kiss her, hard and thorough. “You’re a gift.”
She laughs against my mouth. “I know.”
I back her toward the door to my bedroom. “I have things to do today.”
“Do you?” Persephone laces her arms behind my neck and beams at me, totally unrepentant. “I guess you should do them.”
“Mmm.” I catch the backs of her thighs and lift her to topple back onto the bed. “In a little bit.” I kneel at the side of the bed and push her legs apart. Her pussy is pretty and pink and oh so wet. I part her lips with my thumbs and exhale against her clit. “You liked it when I fucked your mouth.”
“I really, really did.” She lifts her head enough to look down her body at me. “I told you that I can handle anything you can give. I should clarify. I crave anything and everything you do to me.”
Sweet fuck, the trust she places in me. I’m still not sure I deserve it.
I hold her gaze and circle her clit with the tip of my tongue. “I suppose business can wait a little longer.” Her smile in response is reward enough, but I have her practically vibrating with the need to ride my face…
Actually, that’s a fantastic fucking idea.
I slide her up the bed and crawl onto the mattress. “Come here.”
Persephone is already obeying, following my lead to climb up to straddle my chest. I slide down and then there she is, right where I want her. “Don’t hold back, little siren. You know you want to be wicked.”
She gives an experimental roll, and I reward it with a long lick. It doesn’t take long before Persephone is rocking against my mouth, chasing her own orgasm even as I lose myself in the taste of her. She comes with a cry that sounds a whole lot like my name, her body shuddering above me as she grinds down against my tongue.
It’s not enough. How many fucking times will I think that before I acknowledge that it will never be enough? It doesn’t matter. At least once more.
I topple her back onto the bed and keep eating her out, driven by the need to make this… I don’t know. I want to ensure that no matter where she goes or how much time passes, she’ll always remember this.
That she’ll always remember me.
Chapter 18
Persephone
Hades and I don’t make it out of bed until nearly lunchtime, and only then because my growling stomach seems to offend him on a personal level. Which is how I end up sitting at the kitchen island with three plates’ worth of food in front of me. I’m still picking through the fries when Hermes strolls into the room.