Hades had not expected to leave Bakkheia in such a foul mood. If Persephone had heard the way he’d spoken to Ariadne, she likely wouldn’t speak to him all night, but Dionysus’s decision to essentially kidnap Phaedra and her son would have horrible consequences. He only hoped he could stop Theseus before the demigod saw them through, but those worries were for tomorrow.
Tonight, all he wished to concern himself with was Persephone.
Except when he returned to the Underworld, she was not alone. Hecate had joined her in his office.
“When I said wait for me, I meant alone,” he grumbled, though to be fair, he was not unhappy to see the Goddess of Witchcraft.
“Shut up!” Hecate snapped as she embraced him, and though her actions surprised him, he hugged her back. “You’re an idiot,” she said with her face buried in his chest.
He smiled softly. “I missed you too, Hecate.”
She pulled away and touched his face. He had never quite seen this look in her eyes before. It was almost like she was in disbelief—like maybe she had not been certain he would actually return.
That thought turned his stomach.
“You need to shave,” she said.
“Noted,” he replied.
“I will leave you,” she said, taking a step back. “But I had to see you—both of you.”
Hecate turned to Persephone and hugged her tight; then the goddess left, and they were alone.
It was the moment he had waited for, yet he did not close the distance between them. All he could do was stare at his wife, his goddess, his queen. She was so beautiful, his heart ached when he looked at her. He had spent most of his time in the labyrinth thinking only of her, conjuring her likeness from memory, and still he had not done her justice. He could never capture her truth—the unbearable beauty of her soul, the thing that called to him loudest, the thing that said they were made for each other.
Her eyes never wavered from his but seemed to burn brighter, fueled by the heat rising between them.
“We should bathe,” she said. Her voice was low and shivered up his back like silk.
He wasn’t going to argue. They were covered in mud and blood. Besides, he wanted to see her strip down to nothing.
“As you wish, darling,” he said.
He considered carrying her through the castle to the baths as both a way to announce his return and also communicate that they were not to be disturbed, but he decided that would take too long and teleported instead.
When they arrived, he was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of eucalyptus and lavender. The humid heat stuck to his skin and warmed his sore muscles. He hadn’t really paid much attention to how he was feeling other than the ache between his thighs.
They were still divided by that same distance, but it felt far more tangible than before, thick and heavy with desire.
Persephone held his gaze as she pulled off her tank top and shimmied out of her pants. She straightened and stood naked before him. He had seen her this way so many times, and he would never get enough of it.
“What are you waiting for?” she asked before she turned and entered the pool.
He watched her as she dove beneath the surface and pulled off what remained of his tattered clothes, wading into the water just as she emerged, her long hair plastered to her head.
He did the same and swam toward her. When he rose to the surface, he was inches from her.
Still, he did not take her into his arms, did not seal the space between them, save for his cock, which was so full and heavy, it pressed into her stomach.
“Everyone missed you,” Persephone said.
He did not expect to feel such a strong wave of emotion at her words, but he thought maybe it had something to do with the way she was looking at him. Like something inside her had been broken in the time he had been gone and she was trying to hide it. Then he saw it. Her mouth quivered, and her eyes welled with tears, and she shook her head as if she were telling them to go away but they came anyway.
“It was horrible without you,” she said.
He dragged her into his arms and held her tight, hoping that at some point, she wouldn’t tremble anymore.
“I am so sorry,” he said.
“I should be sorry,” she said, pulling away, brushing at the tears on her face. “I should have never left—”
He reached for her, his fingers closing around her wrists. “No, Persephone,” he said, shaking his head. “You knew exactly what I would do. I would have never let you leave with Theseus, never fulfilled that fucking bargain. I should have never made it in the first place.”
She placed her hands on either side of his face, fingers combing through his wet beard, and after a moment, she giggled.
He liked the sound. He wanted more.
“Hecate is right. You do need to shave.”
“You don’t like it?” he asked. “I was thinking about keeping it.”
“Hades.” She was not amused.
“Do you think it makes me look older?”
She pressed her palms against his cheeks and spoke very close to his face. “I think it makes you ticklish.”
“Does it?” he asked, nuzzling her neck. “Is this ticklish?”
She shivered. “Hades.”
This time, she breathed his name, and he wasn’t sure if it was a warning or a desperate invitation, but she didn’t push him away. She locked her fingers in his hair as he kissed up her neck and along her jaw.
“What about this?” he asked, teasing the lobe of her ear with his teeth.
That was when she jerked toward him and slammed her mouth against his.
Fucking finally, he thought, and his mind went blank. He pulled her flush against him and devoured her mouth, consumed by the feel of her body and the rush of blood in his veins. It made his heart pound and his cock throb.
She opened her mouth against his, and their tongues collided. He groaned at the taste of her, at the way she let him take control. He felt massive as he bent over her, his hand tangled in her hair at the base of her neck, but she clung to him and moved with him, kissing him with just as much passion as he gave.
His hands skimmed down her back to her ass, and he lifted her from the water, her legs twining around his waist. His head swam, desire roaring in his ears as her heat pressed into his aching arousal. He kissed along her jaw and down her neck as he carried her to the edge of the pool, where he let her sit while he took her breasts into his hands and mouth, licking and sucking her soft and silken skin.
“Yes,” she hissed, her legs widening—inviting.
Fuck, he loved this.
“Not so ticklish anymore?” he asked, sucking on one peaked nipple.
She drew in a sharp breath between her teeth. “You are impossible,” she said.
He smiled, bringing his mouth level with hers.
“But you love me,” he said, letting his nose graze hers, his lips hovering over hers.
“I hope that wasn’t a question,” she said.
“You can answer it all the same,” he said.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him close.
“Yes,” she said. “Yes, I love you.”
This time, she claimed his mouth, and her fingers threaded through his hair. His wound ached as she held him tighter, her heels pressing hard into his back, but he swallowed the pain.
Nothing would ruin this moment—not Theseus or his father’s fucking blade.
He was frustrated that he was thinking about them at all, especially with his cock nestled so snugly between Persephone’s thighs. That was what he should be focusing on, how good she would feel once he was inside her.
He kissed her harder on the mouth before making his way down to the juncture of her thighs.
“Hades, you’re…bleeding!”
Persephone’s voice rang with alarm, and she reacted immediately, closing her legs and jumping into the pool beside him. The water, he now noticed, was tinged with red.
Fuck.
This was exactly what he was hoping to avoid.
She reached for his hand, which he’d attempted to strategically place over the wound on his side. Her eyes widened when she saw it, and then her expression fell, and a haunted sort of look overcame her.
“You’re not healing,” she said and then moved back, pressing a hand to her mouth as if she wished to contain her emotions.
“Persephone, I’m fine,” he said.
Her eyes flashed with anger, and she dropped her hand. “You’re lying!”
“I do not want to deal with this tonight,” he said, straightening to his full height. “I just spent an immeasurable amount of time away from you. I want to make love to you, and I want to sleep.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me!” she said and then paused to shake her head. “Though I shouldn’t be surprised, given everything I was told while you were in the labyrinth.”
Hades’s brows lowered, and while he wanted to know what exactly she was referring to, engaging with it right now would get him further from what he wanted.
“Tomorrow, Persephone,” he gritted out.
“No, not tomorrow,” she said. “Fuck!”
She waded through the water to the steps, leaving the pool.
Hades turned to follow. He would beg. He wasn’t above it. “Persephone—”
She paused at the top of the steps, her body glistening in the low light of the bath.
“Harmonia isn’t healing either,” Persephone said, her voice trembling. “She’s not waking up, Hades.”
Suddenly he understood. She thought that would be his fate too.
He got out of the pool. “What do you mean Harmonia isn’t waking up?”
Persephone reached for a towel and wrapped it around herself as she faced Hades. “Theseus stabbed her, and the wound isn’t healing. She’s had a fever for days.”
Hades frowned at the news. It sounded like Harmonia had fallen victim to Cronos’s scythe too.
Persephone pushed past him, and he followed her down the hall toward their chamber.
“I did not hide this from you,” Hades said. “I forgot.”
She paused and turned to glare at him.
Like the idiot you are, he heard Hecate’s voice in his head.
“Are you serious?”
“I had other things on my mind, Persephone. That tends to numb pain.”
“So you’re in pain?”
He gave a frustrated sigh. “Yes, for fuck’s sake. I was stabbed.”
She whirled and continued to their room.
“I can’t believe you kept this from me just so you could have sex!”
He didn’t see the problem. It wasn’t his dick that was injured.
“We,” he said. “So we could have sex. Don’t make this one-sided. You were just as eager until you found out I was injured.”
“Because you’re hurt!” she shouted back.
“I feel—”
She whirled on him. He felt her anger like a physical slap to the face.
“If you say you feel fine one more time,” she threatened through clenched teeth. She didn’t need to finish that sentence. He felt like he could see his life flash before him because everything she wanted to do to him was reflected in her eyes, and unsurprisingly, none of it was sexual.
When they made it to their room, she flung the door open and called for Hecate.
Hades rolled his eyes.
Great. Now he was about to be lectured by both of them.
He summoned a towel, not particularly eager for Hecate to see his raging erection or the amusement that would light her eyes when she found out why they were fighting.
“What is it, my dear?” Hecate asked, appearing just as he finished wrapping the towel around his waist. She was dressed in dark robes. He imagined if she had not already been out in the world above causing grief, she had been about to leave.
Persephone turned to him. “Tell her!” she commanded.
He did not like being ordered, but he disliked that he had upset Persephone more.
“Theseus stabbed me with Cronos’s scythe. The wound won’t heal. I was going to come to you tomorrow,” he said pointedly. “But Persephone insisted.”
Hecate pulled the hood from her head, her expression far more concerned than he expected. She crossed the room toward him and bent to study the wound, then straightened, meeting his gaze. She seemed just as irritated with him as Persephone.
“Lie down,” she said, another order, and while it made him bristle, he didn’t protest.
He was very aware of Hecate and Persephone watching him and ground his teeth at the sharp stab of pain that shot up his side as he sat. He held his breath as he lay back, the pain turning to a dull throb.
He hadn’t thought twice about how good this would feel as he relaxed into the mattress, but after hanging from the ceiling for what felt like fucking days, this was like lying on a cloud.
“Persephone,” said Hecate. “Would you be a dear and bring me towels? A lot of them.”
“Of course,” Persephone said, disappearing into the adjacent bathroom.
Hecate looked at Hades. “You shouldn’t scare her like this,” she chided.
“It wasn’t my intention to scare her,” he said. “I was going to handle it.”
“Tomorrow,” Hecate said, almost mockingly. “When it might be too late.”
Hades averted his eyes, frustrated.
Persephone returned with a stack of towels.
“Your magic isn’t reaching the wound at all,” Hecate said. “I will not be able to do much beyond attempting to prevent infection.”
Persephone’s stare was hard, her eyes glassy.
He was frustrated that this was how he’d returned to her—far more broken than before.
Hecate placed the towels around Hades’s wound, creating a barrier, and then summoned a glass pitcher. “Could you fill this with warm water, dear?” she asked.
“You know you can use your magic,” Hades said when Persephone vanished into the bathroom again. “Why do you keep sending her away?”
“If I used my magic right now, the water would scald you to death,” Hecate snapped. “Besides, would you prefer I berate you in front of your wife?”
“I’d rather you not berate me at all,” he said.
“Then don’t—”
“Be an idiot,” he spoke over her. “I know. Believe it or not, I really try not to be.”
“Demeter is dead, Hades.”
Hades’s mouth parted, but he had no words to speak.
He was usually aware of every soul that came into his realm, save for the time he’d spent in the labyrinth, and he had been too distracted upon his return to take inventory.
“How?”
“Persephone,” she answered. “She needs you well and as whole as you can be—to lean on in grief but also in guilt.”
Hades swallowed hard, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.
He couldn’t figure out what he hated most about having been a prisoner of Theseus. Was it that he was separated from Persephone or that separately, they had gone through unimaginable things and neither had been able to be there for the other?
When Persephone returned with the pitcher of water, he couldn’t help seeing her differently. The thought made his stomach turn, filling him with guilt beyond anything he’d ever felt, but knowing what she had experienced, he now felt like he could see the burden of it upon her, hardening her features.
In some ways, he recognized her on a deeper level.
Hecate got to work, cleansing his wound, which wasn’t necessarily painful but definitely uncomfortable.
“Sybil said you mentioned that we may need the Golden Fleece to heal Harmonia,” Persephone said.
“That is likely the only way either of you will heal now,” Hecate replied.
Fucking great, Hades thought, except that Hecate and Persephone both looked at him. He must have spoken aloud. “The fleece is in Ares’s territory, and in case you’ve forgotten, we are fighting on opposite sides. He won’t give up the wool without a fight.”
“Then we’ll fight him,” said Persephone. “He will be more than eager anyway if he thinks he can capture me. Zeus has offered his shield as a reward to anyone who brings me to him in chains.”
Rage erupted inside him.
“What?”
“Perhaps you should have saved that piece of information for later,” Hecate said, slathering a layer of something clear and sticky over his wound.
“Do not act so surprised,” Persephone said as if she were unbothered. “You knew he would retaliate.”
That hardly mattered, and besides, while he’d expected Zeus to retaliate, he had not exactly expected a competition between their opposing gods.
“I’ll kill him,” he said.
“After you’re healed,” Persephone said.
He glared. He wasn’t sure he could promise that.
Hecate finished by bandaging his wound. It throbbed more now than it had before.
“Let’s hope by morning, you have managed to stave off infection.” She started to leave but paused, a stern look coming over her face. “Rest,” she said. “In case you need explicit instructions, that means you probably should avoid sex for now.”
“I could have gone my entire existence without ever hearing you say those words,” Hades said.
When she vanished, a strange tension filled the room, but it had nothing to do with desire. It was a clash of anger and fear, heightened on both sides. Persephone stood at the end of the bed. He wasn’t sure what she was staring at or that she was really seeing at all.
“Persephone.”
He called to her, and that seemed to shake her from her thoughts.
“Come, lie beside me,” he said.
If he couldn’t have the comfort of being inside her, he would settle for holding her close.
She didn’t move, and he felt dread creep into his chest. Had he already fucked this up?
“Persephone, please,” he said.
Finally, she moved, the bed dipping with her weight. He watched her crawl toward him across their sprawling bed, and when she rested against him with her head on his chest, his anxiety vanished.
“I’m sorry,” he said, kissing her hair.
She did not speak, and he could feel her tears on his skin. He considered asking her to look at him so he could brush them away, but if he did, then he would have to fight the emotion welling in his throat, and he wasn’t certain he was capable of facing that battle.
So he didn’t.
Hades woke to Persephone’s kiss.
He groaned and pressed one hand into her back. The other sought her breast, first through her robe and then sliding beneath it. He twisted her nipple between his fingers, pleased with her breathless groan.
He released her for a moment and tore the tie of her robe free. He rolled on top of her and buried his face between her breasts, kissing her there before lavishing each one with his tongue, licking and sucking her while she writhed beneath him and slid her foot along his engorged cock.
“Fuck,” he breathed as he brought his mouth to hers.
She pulled him down and he took the chance to dig his feet into the bed, grinding into her, flesh against flesh. He could barely think, it felt so good.
He moved to the side, and his hand swept lower, over her stomach to the apex of her thighs, where he circled her clit and let his fingers slide along her slick entrance.
“So fucking wet,” he hummed against her skin, kissing down her neck. He withdrew his fingers, coating her clit with that liquid heat until it grew hard beneath his touch, shifting over her again. He had every intention of kissing down her body and fucking her with his tongue when her fingers dug into his skin, halting him.
“Hades,” she said. He knew by the tone of her voice that she had surfaced from the haze of her desire.
Don’t say stop, he pleaded, but it seemed wrong to say those words aloud.
“Just let me taste you,” he groaned.
She sat up, which forced him to sit back on his knees.
“You’re bleeding,” she said.
He looked down at the bandaged wound, stained with crimson.
“I was probably bleeding before this,” he said, though those words likely didn’t help his case.
Persephone’s lips flattened, and she pulled her robe closed. “I’m sorry, Hades. I shouldn’t—I didn’t mean—”
“Never apologize for that,” he said.
They stared at each other, and he knew she felt terrible. She crawled to the other side of the bed.
He sighed, frustrated, and flopped onto his back.
His cock mocked him, pointing straight into the air. He lay there, silent for a few moments, before he wrapped his fingers around his erection. He couldn’t believe he was going to have to jerk off while his wife lay beside him, wet as fuck.
“What about ‘no sex’ is so hard for you to get?” Persephone asked.
“My fucking dick, Persephone,” he snapped. “That’s what’s hard.”
Silence followed his angry outburst. He let go of himself, placing both his hands beneath his head. In the quiet, he felt ridiculous for being so frustrated.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just…imagined all this very differently.”
After a few moments, Persephone whispered, “Me too.”
He felt her move, and then she was beside him, shedding her robe.
“What can I do?” she asked.
“Anything,” he answered. Excitement shot straight to the end of his cock.
She gave him a wry look. “That won’t hurt you.”
He pretended to consider her question, but he had a list of answers.
“Sit on my face,” he said.
Her gaze slid to his cock and back to his face. “I don’t think that will ease your…affliction.”
“I beg to differ,” he said. He saw her doubt and pushed forward, explaining, “Pleasing you pleases me. If you’re worried about hurting me, this is the best option. You have control. You’re the one who moves. I’ll just hold you.”
And fuck you with my mouth, he thought.
He could tell she was considering it, and then she rose onto her knees and guided her leg over him, straddling him with her slick heat. He brought his hands down on her thighs, feeling triumph for the first time.
“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked. Her palms were pressed flat against his chest, her breasts swollen between her arms.
“What are you worried about?” he asked, holding her glittering gaze in the dim light of their room.
“Hurting you,” she said and then added sheepishly, “suffocating you.”
“If this is how I suffocate, I would gladly drown in your heat.”
“Hades.”
“Put your weight on your knees, darling. I’ll do the rest,” he said. “Come.”
She relented and shifted up his body. His muscles tightened with excitement as her knees came to rest on either side of his face. She looked down at him, holding his gaze as he placed his hands on her legs and guided her down, his tongue running along her slick flesh. He was instantly consumed, overwhelmed by her pleasurable scent and the way he was able to watch her from between her legs. She let out an audible gasp, her hands slamming down on the headboard, and he buried his tongue in her heat, delighted when she began to move her hips.
“Ride, darling,” he said. “Like you are on my cock.”
He was eager to show her how good this could be for her.
She was tentative at first, but she quickly found a rhythm, and as she moved, he gripped her ass and spread her wider, taking her deeper. When she grew tired and was still, he would change his approach, kissing and licking and sucking her, rubbing her clit until her body began to shudder, and when he felt her climbing toward release, he climbed too. His muscles locked, and his hips shot off the bed, heels digging into the mattress as he held Persephone hard against his mouth.
She came with a sharp cry, her thighs pressing in on either side of his head. It was all he needed to release the pressure that had been building inside him. His orgasm tore through him, twisting every part of his body.
Fuck, he would ache tomorrow, but he didn’t care because as he came down from his high, his mind was finally quiet.
