“We play by my rules,” Persephone said.
They sat across from each other before the fireplace in their bedroom, a table and deck of cards between them.
Hades raised a brow. “Your rules? How do they differ from the established rules?”
“There are no established rules,” she said. “That’s what makes this game so fun.”
Hades frowned and she knew this was exactly the kind of game he hated. He needed structure, guidelines—control.
“Just listen. The goal is to collect every card in the deck,” Persephone said. “Each of us will lay down a card at the same time. If the cards add up to ten or you lay down a ten, you slap the deck.”
“You…slap the deck?” Hades asked.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because that is how you claim the cards.”
He cleared his throat. “Go on.”
“Outside the rule of tens, there is a rule for face cards,” she explained.
She had to give it to Hades, he did make a show of interest in the rules of the game, more than likely because he was interested in the stakes. “Depending on the face card you draw, you have a certain number of chances to get another face card or the player who laid down the first face card takes all the cards.”
“Okay,” he said very deliberately.
She continued. “And last, if you slap at the wrong time then you have to put two cards at the bottom of the pile.”
“Right,” he said. “Of course. What is this game called again?”
“Egyptian Ratscrew,” Persephone said.
“Why?”
She frowned. “I-I don’t know. It just is.”
Hades raised a brow. “Well, this should be fun. Let’s get to the important part—stakes. What do you wish for if you obtain this…whole deck of cards first?”
Persephone considered this before saying, “I would like a weekend,” she said. “Alone. With you.”
Hades lips quirked. “You are wagering for something I would gladly give—and have, many times.”
“Not a weekend sequestered to your bedchamber,” she said, rolling her eyes. “A weekend…on an island or in the mountains or in a cabin. A…vacation.”
“Hmm. You aren’t giving me a very good reason to win,” he said.
Persephone smiled. “And you? What do you wish for?”
“A fantasy,” he said. “Fulfilled.”
“A…fantasy?”
“A sexual one.”
It took everything in her not to stutter.
“Of course,” she managed smoothly, taking a shallow breath. Now who was making it hard to want to win? She bit her lip. “Can I ask what this sexual fantasy entails?”
“No.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Do you accept?”
“I accept,” Persephone said and as she spoke, she squeezed her thighs together, feeling a jolt of heat pool low in her stomach. She hoped she could focus enough on the game to actually attempt winning.
She cut the deck and gave each of them twenty-six cards. The first card she put down was a two of spade. Hades placed a queen of clubs.
“That means I have three chances to get another face card,” she explained.
Her next card was a king.
“Now you have four chances to get a face card.”
“Alright.”
His first card was a five of diamonds, the next a three of clubs, the third a jack of hearts. Then, it was Persephone’s turn—luckily, she laid down another face card.
“Now you have one chance to draw a face card,” she said.
What he drew was a ten of spades.
Lightning-fast, Hades’ hand came down upon the deck with a loud bang.
Persephone flinched and stared at him in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to move so fast—or to remember the rules so well.
“What?” he asked when he noticed her expression. “You said to slap.”
“That wasn’t a slap, that was more like a collision.”
He smirked. “I just really want to win.”
She raised a brow. “I thought you were intrigued by my wager.”
“Yes, but I can make your wager come true at any point.”
“And you do not think I can make your fantasy come true at any point?”
Hades’ lips quirked. “Can you?”
They stared at one another for a heartbeat. The tension between them gathering rapidly, a storm on the horizon. Part of her wanted to discard the game completely just to embed his body into hers.
Then Hades spoke, his voice low and gruff. “Shall we continue?”
Their game progressed—a near-endless exchange of cards. At one point, Hades only had one card left—Persephone’s victory was at hand. She was so excited she could taste it.
“Do not look so smug, darling. I will come back with this card,” he promised.
And when he laid the card down, it was a ten.
He slapped the deck and claimed the cards—a winner.
Persephone glared.
“You cheated!” She accused.
Hades chuckled. “A loser’s claim.”
“Careful, my lord—you may have won but I am responsible for the experience. You want it to be good, don’t you?”
She wasn’t even sure what he was going to ask for—a fantasy of some sort. What did he wish for? She thought of the time he’d threatened to take her in his glass office. Perhaps he had darker wishes—submission or bondage or roleplaying. She could barely breath as she waited for him to speak—to instruct.
Then he stood, loosening his tie and cufflinks. Persephone tilted her head back, gaze trailing the planes of his well-muscled physique.
“Ten seconds,” he said.
Persephone brows furrowed. She’d expected other words to come out of his mouth like…undress or maybe kneel.
“What?” Maybe she’d misheard him. There was no way she’d misread the tension in this room. Her gaze dipped where his erection strained against his slacks.
She hadn’t.
“You have ten seconds to hide. Then I will seek you out.”
“Your fantasy is hide and seek?” she asked.
“No. My fantasy is the chase. I am going to hunt you and when I find you, I will bury myself so far inside you, the only thing you’ll be able to say is my name.”
That seemed fair.
She feigned considering this proposition and said, “Will you use magic?”
His smile widened. “Oh, this will be much more fun with magic, darling.”
She narrowed her eyes. “But this is your realm. You will know everywhere I go.”
“Are you telling me you don’t wish to be caught?”
It was her turn to smile. Without another word, she teleported and appeared in Hades’ garden. She had landed in the open, upon the black stone path that wound through colorful flowers and dark trees. She darted into the foliage, ducking under curtains of wisteria and parting willow branches.
She felt Hades appear. He was heat, a flame that warmed her skin and she was drawn to it like a moth. She pressed herself into the trunk of the willow, watching him through its graceful limbs.
He turned in her direction, taking deliberate but careful steps toward her.
“I’ve thought of you all day,” he said, and a thrill went through her. She peeled herself away from the tree and wandered along the garden’s edge. Hades continued following and talking.
“The way you taste, the feel of my cock slipping inside you, the way you moan as I fuck you.”
Persephone came to the garden’s wall, heart beating faster. She was trapped. She turned to find Hades blocking her way, his gaze hungry. He stuck one arm out and then the other, caging her between him. His breath caressed her lips as he spoke.
“I want to fuck you so hard your screams reach the ears of the living.”
Persephone’s lips curled, and she leaned close, tongue flicking out to taste his lips before she asked breathlessly, “Why don’t you?”
Then she vanished.
She appeared in Asphodel, at the center of their crowded streets. It was a market day, which meant the souls were out in droves, trading the goods they made in the comfort of their homes. The yeasty smell of bread, bitter teas, and sweet cinnamon wafted through the air.
“Lady Persephone!”
“My lady!”
“Persephone!”
The souls called and began to crowd her. The children were especially happy to see her and squeezed between the older souls to reach her, hugging her legs and grasping her hands.
“Come play with us, Persephone!”
“I’m so very sorry, everyone. I’m afraid I’m…in the middle of a game with Lord Hades.”
“What kind of game?” One of the children asked.
“Can we play, too?” Another said.
She really should have kept her mouth shut, but when Hades arrived, the souls of Asphodel turned their attention to him.
“Hades!” the children cried and bounded toward him. The Lord of the Underworld caught one—the smallest child, Theo—and lifted him into the air. The child giggled and Hades smiled. It was a breathtaking smile and it hit her heart like an arrow. Once again, she found herself thinking of Hades as a father.
She swallowed.
“Hades, play with us!” they cried.
“I’m afraid I have made a promise to Lady Persephone I must keep,” he said. “But I will make a promise to you now—Lady Persephone and I will return to play as soon as possible.”
He leveled his gaze with hers, and it was clear he was still intent upon his goal.
“We shall visit soon!” Persephone promised and vanished. Hades followed—she could feel his magic twining with hers, and when they appeared, it was in the Asphodel Fields.
He kissed her, and for a brief moment, Persephone forgot that they were in the middle of a chase. It was rough and his tongue clashed with hers. He drank deep, as if he wished to consume her essence. Her fingers dug into his muscled arms as she held on, drowning in his power.
She managed to come to her senses and pull away. Hades looked surprised, and his eyes darkened. He gripped the front of her dress and drug her against him, tearing the fabric in two so that it exposed her breasts. He took each one in his hand and covered them with his mouth, working her nipples with his hot tongue until they were taunt. Then he kissed up her neck, his hands replacing his tongue as they pinched each tight bead.
Persephone’s head fell back as she gasped, and Hades growled low in his throat. “Surrender.”
Her head spun, surrounded by his scent. He had pulled away enough so she could see his face and as she met his gaze, she answered. “No.”
It was one of the most difficult things she’d ever done in her life.
Then she vanished.
This time, she appeared in Hades’ cavernous throne room. Despite having multiple windows, much of the room was left in darkness. She ascended to the throne and took a seat. The obsidian was slick and cold against her arms and back, and despite the fact that her dress was torn, she sat with her back straight, breasts exposed.
If Hades thought this was his win, he was mistaken.
When he materialized and saw her upon his throne, his eyes seemed to darken, and his lips curved into a seductive smile. He was ravenous, and his desire permeated the air. It smelled like spice and smoke and she leaned toward him, wanting to taste it.
“My queen,” he said, and started toward her.
“Halt!” she commanded. To her surprise, Hades immediately obeyed, though it was clear he hadn’t wanted to—his hands fisted, and his jaw tightened, his shoulders tense. Before he could protest, though, she gave another command. “Undress.”
He watched her a moment, and his lips curled. “For someone who doesn’t like titles, you sure are commanding.”
She glared at him. “Must I repeat myself?”
Now Hades was smiling. He lifted his hand, and Persephone stopped him.
“Not with magic. The mortal way. Slowly.”
“As you wish,” he said.
Hades took his time unbuttoning his shirt and pants. He removed his shirt first, showing off his burnished skin and the muscles of his arms and stomach. Next, he slid out of his pants, revealing his thick and heavy erection.
By the time he was finished and stood naked before her, she sat on the edge of his throne, her hands gripping the arms. She considered reaching for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock, but refrained.
“And your hair,” she said. “Take it down.”
He reached up, massive muscles flexing, as he untied his usually slick-backed hair. The long, dark locks fell around his shoulders in waves making him look feral and untamed. It thrilled her.
But there was one more thing she wanted.
“Drop your glamour,” she said.
The corners of his mouth lifted. “I will if you will.”
She stared at him for a moment then released her hold on her magic. It was like letting a heavy cloak drop from about her or shedding skin that had become taunt and vaguely uncomfortable. Hades’ eyes swept her whole body—from her slender, white horns that twisted out from a head of unruly, golden hair to her bare feet, dirty from running through the garden and Asphodel. It shouldn’t feel so intimate because the way he looked at her was familiar, but when his dark eyes met hers, she felt like she might implode from the intensity.
He dropped his glamour next. Persephone loved watching Hades transform. His magic evaporated like smoke, peeling from his body to reveal the ancient god beneath. Hades wasn’t often in his Divine form, which was strange considering he encouraged Persephone to remain in hers. His horns were black, lethal, and yet, graceful, having the same slender curves as a gazelle’s. The dark of his eyes burned away to reveal electric blue irises.
She stood then, studying him as intently as he was her, and approached.
“Don’t move,” she whispered.
She thought she heard him groan, but she couldn’t be sure.
She placed her palm on his chest. His body was an inferno beneath her hand, as hot as the River Phlegethon. His skin was smooth and his muscles hard. She explored him—his abs and his sides, moving lower until her hand came into contact with his erection. When her fingers closed around him, Hades inhaled, his hands fisting so tight, she was sure he had pierced flesh.
She looked up at him, stroking him until a thick bead of come glistened at the tip of his cock. She removed it with her finger and brought it into her mouth. Hades watched like a predator. She was pushing his limits, but that’s what she wanted.
She returned to his throne, never taking her eyes off of him, the taste of him upon her lips, and said, “Come.”
Now Hades grinned. “Only for you.”
She considered vanishing again, but Hades was on her instantly. He shredded the rest of her clothes and picked her up from his throne by the waist. She had no desire to resist him. She melded with him—chest to chest, legs around his waist, soft skin to iron muscle.
Hades drove into her and a guttural cry escaped from deep inside each of them.
“I was beginning to think all you wanted to do was stare,” he said against her skin.
She answered with a moan as he leveraged her weight and started to move in and out. Every slick inch of him filled her to bursting.
“I wanted you,” she managed. “I wanted to fuck the moment we were alone.”
Her voice was a whisper now, husky and thick with pleasure. Each time he thrust, she stopped speaking, reveling in the pleasure wracking her body.
“And instead of fucking, you asked for a game, why?”
“I like foreplay,” she said, nibbling his ear.
Hades’ chuckle turned into a growl and he kissed her hard, slamming into her for a few uncontrolled moments. Persephone’s cries filled the throne room but softened when his momentum slowed. It was sweet torture—he was dragging her to the edge of a cliff, holding her over by a thread.
Hades was the ultimate addiction. He was a glorious high, an intoxicating bliss she wanted all the time.
“I hate waiting for you,” she said.
“Then find me,” Hades said, kissing down her neck.
“You are busy.”
“Dreaming about being inside of you,” he said.
She managed a breathy laugh.
“I love that laugh,” he said, kissing her.
“I love you,” she said.
Something changed when she uttered those words. Hades met her gaze and held it as he seated himself on the edge of his throne. Persephone kept her legs wrapped around his waist.
“Say it again,” he said.
She studied him for a moment and twisted his hair around her fingers. It would be her lifeline because she knew by Hades’ voice and the way he looked at her, she was about to be consumed.
“I love you, Hades,” she said softly.
His smile was breathtaking, and he kissed her, helping her move up and down his shaft.
“I love you. You are perfection,” he said, squeezing her bottom where he still held her. “You are my lover. You are my queen.”
He leaned back and slipped his hand between them. A new sensation accosted her as he stroked her cleft. She groaned and took control, riding him harder, faster, feeling him deeper than ever before.
Hades responded, meeting her thrusts. The pounding of their bodies was vicious, and they came brutally. Persephone collapsed against him, their bodies slick and hot, as they struggled to catch their breath.
After a few moments, she felt Hades kiss her hair.
“Why is this the first time I am hearing about your fantasies?” she asked.
When he did not immediately respond, she looked at him.
“How do I verbalize such a thing?” He asked.
She shrugged. “I suppose you just…tell me what you want,” she said. “Is that not what you would want from me?”
A smile pulled at his lips. “Yes,” he answered. “So tell me, what is your fantasy?”
Persephone did not expect that question, and despite the fact that she lay in her lover’s arms, naked and covered in sweat from lovemaking, she blushed.
“I…do not think I have one,” she said.
“You’ll forgive me if I do not believe you,” he said.
“No,” she said. “I won’t—it is in your nature to detect lies.”
Hades offered a small laugh and then, “But what will it take? To learn of your fantasies?”
Persephone did not respond immediately as she traced her finger along his well-muscled chest.
“One day…I want you….to restrain me,” she said.
She noted how hard Hades swallowed, but he did not laugh and for that, she was grateful.
“I will always do as you ask,” he said.
They were silent for a long moment, then Persephone spoke.
“And you?” Her voice was quiet. “What other fantasies live in that head of yours?”
Hades chuckled, his arms tightening around her slick body.
“Darling, every time I fuck you it’s a fantasy.”
