SWNOVELS Neon Gods: Chapter 13
Persephone has put me in an unenviable position. She’s right—we need to get the word out that we’re together sooner rather than later—but she’s also proving time and time again that she will put her health and safety last in her long list of priorities. Those fuckers in the upper city might applaud her for that, but down here, it means I can’t trust her to be honest with me. Which means I could harm her if I’m not careful.
I don’t want to be careful. Fuck, but I’ve never been so close to losing control with another person before. Every smart comment out of those pretty pink lips and sign of arch amusement in those hazel eyes makes me want to drag her down into the dark with me. To divine all her darkest, filthiest fantasies that she’s barely been able to admit to herself she wants…and then give them to her.
That doesn’t explain why I took her to the greenhouse, though. That place has nothing to do with reputation or sex. It’s one of my few refuges. I only took her there because it seems like she could use a little refuge right now, too. That’s it. Simple, really. No reason to look further into it.
I flip a page in the book in my hands and watch her eat out of the corner of my eye. Her motions are short and irritated, but she’s stopped staring at me like she wants to stab me with her fork.
It takes longer than I expect before she sits back with a sigh. “I can’t eat another bite.”
I ignore her and turn another page. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to go back and figure out where I actually was in this book, because I’m sure as hell not reading it right now. Persephone huffs out a low curse that almost, almost makes me smile and slouches back against the couch.
Within five minutes, she’s snoring softly.
I shake my head and stand. How in the gods’ name did she manage to make it this far while ignoring her most basic needs? Her mother has been Demeter for years. A person can only charge blindly ahead for so long before everything collapses around them. Apparently no one taught Persephone that lesson.
I send a text to Charon, and a few minutes later, he and two others appear to silently take the food away. I pull a throw blanket out from the small chest tucked against the wall and drape it over Persephone. She looks smaller in sleep. That has instincts I thought nonexistent rising to the fore. Then again, everything about this woman fucks with my instincts.
I watch her sleep for a few moments, measuring her breathing. She’s fine. I know she’s fine. I don’t know why I’m so sure the moment I turn around, she’s going to be rappelling down the side of my house or creating chaos.
My original plans for tonight need an update, which means I need to make a few calls.
By the time Persephone wakes a few hours later, I have things in motion to my satisfaction. She sits up like someone fired a gun next to her head and blinks at me. “I fell asleep.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you let me fall asleep?”
She sounds so accusing that I almost smile. Again. “You needed it. You have an hour to get ready. Juliette already sent over a few things for tonight. They’re on my bed.” When she just stares at me, I make a shooing motion. “You’re so determined to convince me that you’re fine. Unless you really aren’t feeling up to this…”
“I’m fine.” She nearly gets tangled up in the blanket as she stands but manages to right herself before she takes a tumble. Persephone gives me a sharp look. “I have my own room, you know.”
The longer she’s here, the harder it is to remember that she’s not really mine to protect. I’ve promised her safety, yes, but the mundane day-to-day things don’t fall under that umbrella. Unless I want them to. I have no business telling her that she’s staying in my room going forward, no matter how appealing I find the idea. “Get ready.”
She frowns but finally moves into my bedroom. Persephone pauses just inside the door. “If I take too long, are you going to kick down the door because you’re sure I’ve collapsed?”
It’s a good thing I don’t feel guilt, or I might be blushing. “You have a history of ignoring your body’s needs. And that’s in the last forty-eight hours alone.”
“That’s what I thought.” She gives me a positively angelic smile; if I had hackles, they’d be raised seeing that. Persephone bites her bottom lip. “Why don’t we save the dramatic entrance? You can play guard dog and supervise at the same time.” She presses her fingers to her temple. “I’m not in danger of passing out, but one can never be too sure, right?”
Heat courses through me, and I have to lock myself down to resist taking a step toward her. “You wouldn’t be trying to tempt me into losing control, would you?”
“Of course not.” She turns and there’s definitely a little more swing in her step than there was earlier. As I watch, Persephone pulls her sweater over her head and drops it on the floor. She’s not wearing anything underneath it.
Even as I tell myself to hold firm, I follow her into my bedroom. She pauses in the doorway to the bathroom and works her leggings off, bending at the waist. Fuck. I am treated to the sight of her round ass and then she disappears into the bathroom.
Following her in there is a mistake. She’s attempting to top from the bottom again, and if I let her direct this…
I’m having a hard time remembering why I need to keep control. She might light the spark that turns us into an inferno, but I’m too dominant to let her drive things for long. I’m also self-aware enough to realize when I’m making excuses. That knowledge isn’t enough to keep me from following her into the bathroom.
Persephone meanders into the walk-in shower as if she isn’t temptation personified. I like that she’s not the least bit self-conscious about being naked in front of me. That she’s fearless enough to grab the tiger by the tail. Fuck, I kind of like her.
“Persephone.”
She stops and glances over her shoulder at me. “Yes, Sir?”
She knows exactly what she’s doing to me, and the little brat is enjoying every moment. Truth be told, I am, too. I take a position on the bench near the entrance of the shower, well out of the water’s spray. “Come here.”
Her smile is nothing less than radiant. She waltzes back to me and stops right before her knees touch mine. She’s a golden goddess with long, blond hair, her body a temptation I have no intention of ignoring. “Yes, Sir?”
“Your mouth is being obedient, but your actions aren’t.”
She does that adorable lip-biting thing again, her eyes dancing. “I suppose that means you want to reward my mouth.”
That surprises a laugh out of me. It feels as rusty as it sounds, but I like the way her lips curve in response. It’s not her beaming sunshine smile. No, this expression is genuine amusement. I snort. “I’m not remotely surprised you jumped to that conclusion.”
She leans forward a little, putting her rosy nipples right at eye level. “Do I get to name my reward?”
I shake my head slowly. “You’re wasting time. Shower, Persephone.”
She hesitates a beat, as if I’ve surprised her, and then moves to obey. Within a few seconds, hot steam is curling around me. She steps beneath the spray and runs her hands over her body slowly. Teasing me. Teasing herself. I don’t know which is her main goal, but it doesn’t matter. My cock is so hard, I can barely think straight enough to remember why I can’t touch her. Not yet.
If I start, I won’t be able to stop. Last night was my limit. If she wasn’t practically begging for my cock, I might have a better chance of resisting, but Persephone wants this even more than I do, which is something I didn’t think possible twenty-four hours ago. Now? I don’t trust us together. If I drag this woman to my bed, we won’t surface for days, weeks even. It might result in a whole hell of a lot of pleasure, but it won’t do a damn thing to strike at the heart of Zeus. What the rest of Olympus doesn’t know won’t hurt him.
Which is the problem.
Persephone plucks her nipples and skates her hands down her stomach. I’m already shaking my head. “No.”
“No?”
“You heard what I said.”
She props her hands on her hips. “You want me.”
“Yes.”
“Then take me.”
Yeah, it’s official. I like her. I bite back a grin. “I will. When I’m ready.” I push slowly to my feet. “You seem to have things well in hand. Don’t take too long. Whether you’re ready or not, we leave in…” I check my watch. “Forty minutes. So you’d better hurry.”
Her curses follow me into the bedroom. It’s only then that I allow myself to grin. I didn’t expect to tango with her, let alone to enjoy it so much. I head back into the study and sit down to wait.
Thirty-eight minutes later, Persephone sweeps into the room. “Tell me the truth, Hades. You have a Princess Leia fetish, don’t you?”
I stare at her. Speechless. I’m fucking speechless. She’s twisted her hair up into a style that looks almost like a crown, and she’s wearing the clothing I set out for her. It’s a bra and panty set that would be mundane if not for the silk straps that crisscross around her breasts and waist and hips. I can admit that skirt is strikingly similar to Leia’s bikini costume, with a long, sheer panel in the back and a narrow one in the front.
She looks like a present I can’t wait to unwrap.
I make a spinning motion with my finger. Persephone huffs but obeys, turning slowly. Both the bra and panties are technically full coverage but they’re lace and give a tantalizing peek-a-boo to both nipples and pussy. I want her on my mouth, and I want it now.
By the time she faces me again, I have myself under control. Mostly. I stand and hold out my hand. “I have something special planned tonight.”
“I should hope so. It took me a full twenty minutes to get into this thing.” She tugs on one of the straps and winces. Each step she takes toward me puts her legs on display. She’s magnificent. I cast a look at her feet, and she quickly cuts in before I can say anything. “I have small bandages on. I didn’t need the large ones.”
It’s tempting to check, but the fiery look in her eyes says she’s just waiting for me to try so she can tear me a new one. I’m not willing to say I’ve been overly careful with her, not when apparently I have to be careful for both of us, but I plan to keep a close eye on her tonight. The thought makes me smile. “Let’s go.”
We walk out of the room together to find Charon waiting. He flicks a glance over Persephone but keeps his attention on me. “We’re ready.”
I don’t entertain as often as I used to. There are other locations around the lower city that cater to the rich and kinky who are looking to get their rocks off playing on the dark side. My home isn’t open to just anyone; it’s strictly invite only. There was a time in my early twenties where I didn’t give a fuck who showed up, my recklessness giving my parties nearly legendary status, which only added to the myth of Hades. That was a long time ago. Now, I pick and choose who walks through those doors.
Tonight, I’ve loosened the reins a bit, have picked a select few names off the long waiting list. Charon and my other people will ensure the new invitees stay in the appropriate places and don’t get any funny ideas about snooping. “Two people at the door?”
“Yes, Hades.”
“More at the other entrances.”
He doesn’t roll his eyes, but he looks like he wants to. “We went over the entire plan earlier. I’ve followed it to your specifications. We’re all good. No one will end up where you don’t want them.”
It doesn’t feel like enough, but it will have to do. “Good.”
We make our way down to the door I showed Persephone yesterday. It’s so glossy, it’s almost a mirror as we approach, and the reflection of me in my suit and her in that outfit… Persephone is a pretty present—a pretty captive—and I’m the scary fucker who will cut down anyone who tries to take her from me.
I give myself a mental shake. No use thinking like that. She might be mine for the duration, but she’s not really mine. She’s not for keeping. I can’t afford to forget that, not even for a second.
Charon takes up position next to the door. I adjust Persephone’s hand against the bend in my arm. “We’re about to have an audience. It’ll be real this time.”
She takes a deep breath. “I’m ready.”
She’s not, but that’s part of what tonight is about. Easing her into it. Staking my claim, yes, but doing so in a way that doesn’t throw her into the deep end to drown. “I’m your anchor. Remember that.”
Her lips quirk like she wants to make a smart-ass response, but she finally nods. “I can be obedient.”
I laugh. Fuck, that’s four times in a twenty-four-hour period. I ignore the surprised look Charon sends me and nod at the door. “Let’s go.”
Walking into the room is always a bit like walking into another world, but tonight the effect is more pronounced. The lights are all lowered, making the room appear larger than it really is. Persephone nailed it on the head yesterday; it really is the antithesis to Zeus’s banquet hall. The silvery light cast onto the ceiling by the water gives the impression that we’re somewhere below the surface of the world. A true Underworld fantasy.
The lights aren’t fully lighting up the dais yet. That will be the signal that the show is about to begin. Right now, people are mingling on the couches and chairs. Some chatting, some already getting their own little parties started. The rules of the upper city don’t apply here, and the people invited to cross the river tend to throw themselves into pleasure with a reckless abandon.
I slow down, giving Persephone time to acclimate to the lower lighting. Giving our guests time to see us, to realize that things are finally getting started. Eyes turn our way, and a low murmur surges through the room when they realize who’s on my arm.
I guide Persephone to the dark throne situated against the wall in the center of the room. It’s dramatic as fuck and absolutely ridiculous, but it serves its purpose. A king is only king if everyone around him acknowledges it. I might never set foot in the upper city again, but it advances my interests to remind every single person in this room who rules here.
I have a reputation to uphold, after all.
I sink into the chair and pull Persephone down to sit on my lap. She’s so rigid, I might as well have a statue perched on my thighs. I raise a brow. “You’re going to be sore if you don’t relax.”
“Everyone is staring,” she says out of the corner of her mouth.
“That’s the point.”
She looks at her clasped hands, her jaw tight. “I know that’s the point, but knowing it and experiencing it are two very different things.”
This right here is why I changed my initial plans for the night. She’s too fucking fearless—she rushes forward even when her mind and body are screaming at her to slow down. I sink back farther into the chair, taking her with me. At first, she resists, but when I give her a significant look, she allows me to arrange her so that she’s leaning against my chest. “The show’s starting soon.” And then she’ll be too distracted to worry about everyone else in the room.
“What show?”
I allow myself a smile and loosely wrap an arm around her waist. Throughout the room, the lights dim the tiniest amount, and the ones aimed at the center dais brighten a little. “Do you remember being on display?”
“Of course. It happened yesterday.”
I settle her more firmly on my lap. Another night, it would serve my interests to keep her off-center, but I want her at ease. “You won’t be up there tonight.”
I don’t miss the way her muscles subtly loosen. I know the idea of being watched turns her on, but she’s also new to this. Being thrust into the center would be too much, too soon, and I can’t deny that I very much want her to enjoy this time with me. “I won’t?”
“No. Now relax and enjoy the show,” I murmur in her ear. “It’s just for you.”