The god spun her around to face him and kissed her, pressing her into the mirror, savoring her mouth before lifting her and entering her again.
Persephone groaned, fingers twining into his hair, and when he pulled away, his eyes glittered.
“I have never loved anyone as I love you.” He spoke like he was confessing. “I can’t put it into words—there are none that come close to expressing how I feel.”
Persephone tightened her hold on him, bending toward his lips.
“Then don’t use words,” she said.
Their lips collided and they slid to the floor. Persephone’s knees were bent, pressing into the hard marble floor as she straddled Hades, but she didn’t even notice, too focused on the pleasure building inside her. She twined her fingers with Hades, and guided his arms over his head, rocking against him.
“Fuck,” Hades cursed, breaking her hold. He gripped her hips and helped her move faster, harder. Their eyes held until the pleasure became too much. Persephone’s head lulled back as she came, and Hades followed soon after.
Persephone collapsed onto his chest, breathless and sated, comforted by the feel of Hades’ arms around her. They didn’t speak for a long time—not until their breathing had evened and their hearts had stopped racing.
Hades broke the silence.
“Marry me.”
Persephone sat back. Hades was still hard inside her, and the movement made eyes glittering like coals.
“What?”
There was no way she heard him correctly.
“Marry me, Persephone. Be my queen. Say you’ll stand by my side...forever.”
He was serious and she was...confused. Not about her love for Hades—but so many other things.
“Hades...I....” she couldn’t figure out what to say. “You were just angry with me.”
He shrugged. “And now I am not.”
“And you want to marry me?”
“Yes.”
She stood, stumbling back as her legs struggled to hold her up. Hades held out his hands to help steady her, but she refused them.
“I can’t marry you, Hades,” she answered, her eyes were welling with tears. “I…I don’t know you.”
Hades brows knitted together. “You know me.”
“No, I don’t,” she argued, indicating to her surroundings. “You kept this place from me.”
Hades dipped his chin, eyes narrowed. “Persephone, I have lived forever. There will always be things you learn about me and you should know you won’t like some of them.”
“This isn’t one of those things, Hades. This place is real, and it exists in the present. You hired Leuce to work here. I deserved to know just as I deserved to know about Leuce!”
When he said nothing, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was afraid,” he snapped, and fell silent. His words were angry, and she wondered if he was more frustrated at having to say something like that out loud or at having those feelings at all.
“Why?”
“Obviously because of your moral compass.” He got to his feet and took a few steps away. She couldn’t really explain how those words felt, but she wanted to argue that her moral compass wasn’t very high, seeing as how she had turned Minthe into a mint plant and watched Hades torture a mortal.
He sighed. “I wanted time to think about how to show you my sins. To explain their roots. Instead, it seems, everyone wishes to do it for me.”