Every part of me. Soft and tender. A slide like silk. Harder, more aggressive. They touch me everywhere. As if only using his corporeal body isn’t enough. As if he’s so impatient to explore every part of me, bring me every pleasure possible, that this was the only way.
I don’t know if it’s him or the smoke that plays with the pulse point at the juncture of my thighs, but it’s like having the heat of his mouth on me all over again. Moans tumble out of me as the sensation builds and builds, drawing me closer to bliss.
But it’s his eyes, devouring my reactions I don’t bother to hide from him, that truly catapult me higher.
With everything I am, I pour the sensations he’s creating in me back into him. I pour my need back into him. I pour my heart back into him.
This might be our only time, my only moment like this with him. Is he thinking the same thing? Is he determined to revel in it, and damn tomorrow and any consequences? The edge of desperation makes me want it to be everything. For both of us.
For the woman who has always craved love.
But also for the god who stands so very alone, managing the eternity of the souls under his care with more heart than any other god has shown us mortals.
His touch, against me, inside me, and everywhere, is like fire that threatens to both consume and to renew, burning at his will.
Like Hades himself.
“Please,” I whisper against his mouth. I’m so far gone at this point, I’m not even sure what I’m asking for.
But he seems to know.
We both reach for a kiss, each capturing the other’s sounds of pleasure with our mouths.
For a tiny second, I think this is too much. Too intense. Too necessary, as if I won’t be able to breathe without him after this.
Hades rears back, and his eyes go wide with a glimmering of what I think might be shock—and then their molten grey depths start to glow. “Lyra—”
A smile curves my lips. I did that. I made a god who values his control above all else completely lose it. He growls low in his chest before leaning down to nip at my neck, his hips never breaking rhythm until we both break.
The rush comes then and threatens to obliterate me, slamming through and cresting over me, tumbling me over and over and over. Hades gathers me closer as he follows me into the torrent on a shout. And I swear obsidian-tipped flames rise up in the smoke all around us.
Pleasure batters at us but then slowly eases, drawing us back down until we are like castaways thrown upon a shore the morning after a storm with the waves gently lapping at us.
And as the smoke dissipates, everything else about the world drifts away until it no longer exists for me—pain, fear, the past, the future, the gods and champions, the Overworld and Underworld, Olympus.
All of it is irrelevant in this moment. In this incandescent melding of bodies, minds, hearts, and souls.
Hades gathers me closer, burying his face in my hair as we breathe together. This time, his emotions, when they come, pour into me sweetly—unending, incandescent pleasure, a shattering kind of wonder, and soul-deep possessiveness.
I’m his. My heart claims him back as we cling to each other. Even if he can’t go beyond tonight.
part 7
my only hope
Victory or the grave.
Death wins either way.
90
The Answer Is No
To say that slipping into blissful sleep wrapped in your lover’s arms on a mountainside…only to wake up alone in your own cold bed is disorienting would be an understatement.
I didn’t expect cuddles and declarations of undying love. Obviously. Well…mostly. What my secret heart wants—for last night to have meant something—is a revelation that isn’t a thunderbolt. It’s soft, like butterfly wings.
This is different from my crush on Boone. That was a lonely girl’s innocent feelings, someone who simply wanted a connection and his was the only friendly face in the crowd. But with Hades…it’s something else.
With Hades, it’s still a connection, but it’s also protection, tenderness, and survival. It’s danger, frustration, and all his damned secrets and trusting him anyway. It’s fairness and respect and understanding.
It’s seeing and being truly seen in return.
And maybe…maybe it could be more.
Which is why this morning is jarring to say the least. Yes, we were both clear about what last night was, but this feels like either running or abandonment. I mean…not even a note?
Okay. Benefit of the doubt, I tell myself. Maybe Hades wanted to give me a little privacy. Or he’s asking the staff for my favorite foods for breakfast. Or he likes to shower early in the morning. I’ve decided that if gods eat, sleep, and fuck, then they must shower. Although that instantly-dressed-and-styled snap thing might indicate otherwise.
Or he knows today is the next Labor and I need to focus.
Except my head is entirely with Hades. And I can’t make that stop while I shower and dress, which I do with more haste than care, at least until I’m checking my vest. That, I take my time to go over carefully. Thankfully, Hades got my axe back from Hephaestus for me. I’d left it pinning that automaton’s tentacle in the window.
But Hades isn’t at breakfast, either. Charon and Cerberus are.
I give Ber’s head a scratch before I get myself toast and tea. Pretty sure my stomach wouldn’t appreciate more for a lot of very good reasons.
