A Touch of Darkness (Hades & Persephone #1)

by Scarlett St. Clair

  He accepted this and walked to a table in front of the fireplace. It was like the one in Nevernight, and instead of sitting side-by-side, Hades and Persephone took up opposite ends of the table.

  A single deck of cards waited. She never imagined that a few pieces of plastic would hold so much power—these cards could take or bestow riches, they could grant freedom or become the jailer. They could answer questions and strip away dignity.

  Hades took a sip from his glass and then set it down with an audible click, reaching for the cards.

  “The game?” Persephone asked.

  “Poker,” he said, taking the cards out of the box.

  He started to shuffle them, and the sound drew Persephone’s attention, as did his graceful fingers. The air in the room grew thick and heavy, and she took a breath before asking, “The stakes?”

  Hades smiled. “My favorite part—tell me what you want.”

  A thousand things came to her at once and all of them had to do with returning to the baths and finishing what they started.

  Finally, she said, “If I win, you answer my questions.”

  “Deal,” he said, continuing to shuffle the cards. When he finished, he said, “If I win, I want your clothes.”

  “You want to undress me?” she asked.

  He chuckled. “Darling, that’s only the start of what I want to do to you.”

  She cleared her throat. “Is one win equal to a piece of clothing?”

  “Yes.” He eyed her dress, and it really wasn’t fair because it was all she had on except for her jewels so she touched her necklace where it dipped between her breasts and Hades eyes followed. He seemed to assess her jewels.

  “And...what about jewelry? Do you consider that undressing?”

  He took a sip from his drink before answering. “That depends.”

  “On?”

  “I might decide I want to fuck you with that crown on.”

  She smirked. “No one said anything about fucking, Lord Hades.”

  “No? Pity.”

  She leaned over the table, and though she felt shaky inside, she managed in as steady of a voice as possible, “I’ll accept your bargain.”

  His brows rose, eyes alight. “Confident in your ability to win?”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Hades.”

  Except that she was—afraid that she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him when he came for her. She was very aware of the fluttering inside her. It sat, low in her belly, reminding her that Hades’ lithe fingers had been inside her. That he had drank her passion and need from her body and he hadn’t finished.

  She needed him to finish.

  Persephone shivered.

  “Cold?” he asked as he dealt the first hand.

  “Hot,” she said, and cleared her throat.

  Heat pooled at her core and suddenly, she couldn’t get comfortable. She shifted, crossing her legs harder, smiling at Hades, hoping he couldn’t tell how terribly nervous she was.

  Hades laid his cards down—a pair of kings. She clamped her lips together, glaring, before she laid down her cards, already knowing she had lost. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and his eyes brightened with lust.

  He sat back, assessing. After a moment, he said, “I suppose I will take the necklace.”

  She reached to unclasp it, but he stopped her. “No, let me.”

  She hesitated, but slowly dropped her hands into her lap. Hades stood and walked to her side, the click of his shoes making her heart race. He gathered her hair into his hands and drew it over her shoulder. When his fingers touched her skin, she inhaled and held her breath as he unclasped the necklace. He let one side drop, and the cool metal fell between her breasts. As he pulled it away, the chain slid along her collarbone, and was soon replaced by his lips.

  “Still hot?” he asked against her skin.

  “An inferno,” she breathed.

  “I could free you from this hell,” he said. His lips trailed up the column of her neck and she swallowed hard.

  “We’re just getting started,” she answered.

  His breathy laugh was warm against her skin, and she felt cold when he pulled away and returned to his seat to deal another hand.

  Persephone smiled when their cards were on the table and said, “I win.”

  Hades kept his gaze narrowed upon her. “Ask your question, Goddess. I am eager to play another hand.”

  She bet he was.

  “Have you slept with her?”

  Hades’ jaw tightened and after what seemed like an eternity, he answered. The word was like a stone, dropped right in the pit of her stomach.

  “Once,” he admitted.

  “How long ago?”

  “A very long time ago, Persephone.”

  She had other questions, but the way he said her name—soft and gentle, like he really regretted having been with Minthe at all—kept her from saying anything else. It wasn’t really an option anyway. He’d already given her two answers—she’d only won the right to one.

  She swallowed and looked away, surprised when he asked a question.

  “Are you…angry?”

  She met his gaze. “Yes,” she admitted. “But…I don’t know why exactly.”

  She thought it might have something to do with the fact that she was not his first, but that was silly and irrational. Hades had existed in this world far longer than she, and to expect him to abstain from pleasure was ridiculous.

  He stared at her for a moment before dealing another hand. Each snick of the cards made her more and more tense. The air in the room was thick with the deal they’d made. When he won the second round, he requested her earrings. That was slow torture, as he’d taken them out and nibbled her earlobe. She’d gasped at the scrape of his teeth, clenching the edge of the table to keep from threading her hands through his hair and forcing his lips on hers.

  When he sat down in front of her again, she was still trying to catch her breath. If Hades won the next round, he’d ask for the only thing she had left—her dress. She’d be naked before him, and she wasn’t so sure she could withstand him undressing her.

  She was spared from finding out when she won the next round. She had another burning question.

  “Your power of invisibility,” she said. “Have you ever used it...to spy on me?”

  Hades seemed both amused and suspicious of her question, but she was asking for a very important reason. She needed to know if he had been in her bedroom that night or had her desire for him simply caused her to fantasize?

  “No,” he answered.

  She was relieved. She’d been completely consumed by her own pleasure and hadn’t thought twice about the appearance of Hades at the end of her bed...until after.

  “And will you promise to never use invisibility to spy on me?”

  Hades studied her, as if he was trying to figure out why she was asking this of him. Finally, he answered.

  “I will promise.”

  As he started to deal another hand, she asked another question.

  “Why do you let people think such horrible things about you?”

  He shuffled the cards, and for a moment, she thought he might not answer, but then he said, “I do not control what people think of me.”

  “But you do nothing to contradict what people say about you,” she argued.

  He raised a brow. “You think words have meaning?”

  She stared at him, confused, and as he continued to speak, he dealt another hand.

  “They are just that—words. Words are used to spin stories and craft lies, and occasionally they are strung together to tell the truth.”

  “If words hold no weight for you, what does?”

  Their eyes locked, and something changed in the air between them—something charged and powerful. He approached her, cards in hand, and placed them on the table—a royal flush. Persephone stared at the cards. She had yet to reach for hers, but she didn’t need to. There was no doubt in her mind that he had won this round.
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  “Action, Lady Persephone. Action holds weight for me.”

  She rose to meet him, and their lips collided. Hades tongue twined with hers, and his hands gripped her hips. He twisted, sitting down and dragging her into his lap. He pulled the straps of her dress down and cupped her breasts, squeezing her nipples until they were taut between his fingers.

  Persephone gasped and bit down hard on his lip, eliciting a growl that made her shudder. His lips left hers and descended upon her breasts, licking and sucking, grazing each nipple with his teeth. Persephone clung to him, fingers twining in his hair, freeing it from its binding, pulling the strands harder the longer he worked.

  Then she felt his hands pulling up her dress, and he lifted her, laying her back on the hard table.

  “I have thought of you every night since you left me in the bath,” he said, and spread her legs wide, pressing in against her. “You left me desperate, swollen with need only for you,” he gritted out. For a moment, she thought he might leave her desperate, but then he said, “But I will be a generous lover.”

  He lowered and kissed the inner part of her thigh, following with his swirling tongue until he reached her center. Then his hands spread her further and she felt him there—a testing tongue, then a deeper exploration, and she arched off the table crying out. She reached for him, wishing to tangle her fingers in his dark hair, but he grabbed her wrists and held them against her sides and spoke against her. “I said I would be a generous lover, not a kind one.”

  She writhed against him as he worked, pressing her hips into him just to feel him deeper, and he delivered, releasing her to sink his fingers into her damp center. She couldn’t stop the moans from escaping her mouth. He drove her to the edge, and she resisted, wanting to prolong this ecstasy as long as possible, but he grew fierce and wicked, and she called his name over and over again—a chant that matched his strokes until she came apart.

  She had no time to collect herself. Hades reached for her, dragging her to his mouth. She tasted herself on his lips and reached for the buttons of his shirt, but Hades caught her wrists, stopping her. She was even more confused when he pulled the straps of her dress into place.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded.

  He dared to laugh.

  “Patience, darling,”

  She was anything but patient—the heat between her legs had only been stoked, and she was desperate to be filled.

  He gathered her into his arms and strolled out of his study, into the palace halls.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, hands fisted into his shirt. She was ready to rip it from his body—to see him naked before her, to know him as intimately as he knew her.

  “To my chambers,” he said.

  “And you can’t teleport?” she asked.

  “I’d prefer the whole palace know we aren’t meant to be disturbed.”

  Persephone blushed. She only shared half of that wish—and it was to not be disturbed.

  He held her close as he walked, and the reality of why they were going to his bedroom descended. There was no returning from this—she’d known that from the beginning. The evening they shared in the pool had been one of the most exhilarating experiences of her life, but this night would be one of the most devastating.

  Their darkness would come together. After tonight, this god would always be a part of her.

  After they were inside Hades’ chambers, he seemed to sense the change in her thoughts. He lowered her to the ground, keeping her close. She fit against his body perfectly, and she had the fleeting thought that they were always meant to come together like this.

  “We don’t have to do this,” he said.

  She reached for the lapels of his jacket and helped him out of it.

  “I want you,” she said. “Be my first—be my everything.”

  It was all the encouragement he needed. Hades lips met hers—softly at first, and then they came together more urgently. He tore away and turned her around, unzipping her dress. The red silk fell away, puddling on the floor at her feet. She still wore the heels but stood naked before him.

  Hades groaned and walked around to face her. His shoulders were bunched, his hands fisted, and his jaw clenched, and she knew he was doing everything in his power to maintain control.

  “You are beautiful, my darling,” he said.

  He kissed her again and Persephone fumbled with his shirt until Hades took over, making quick work of the buttons, then he reached for her, but she took a step back. For a moment, Hades was confused, and then Persephone said, “Drop your glamour.”

  He looked at her curiously.

  She shrugged a shoulder. “You wish to fuck me with this crown; I wish to fuck a god.”

  His smirk was devilish, and he answered, “As you wish.”

  Hades’ glamour evaporated like smoke curling into the air. The black of his eyes melted to an electrifying blue, and two black gazelle horns spiraled out of his head. He seemed bigger than ever, filling the whole space with his dark presence.

  She had no time to enjoy the look of him, because as soon as his glamour fell, he reached for her and lifted her off the floor, depositing her on the bed. He kissed her lips again, and then her neck, trailing his tongue over one nipple and the other. He stayed there for a while, working each into a tight bud. Persephone tried to reach for the button of his pants, but he pulled away, laughing.

  “Eager for me, Goddess?” he asked, kissing down her stomach, and then her thighs. He sat back on his knees, and Persephone thought he was going to press his mouth to her core once more, but instead he stood, removing each of her shoes and then the rest of his clothing.

  She would never tire of seeing him naked. He was sin and sex, and his smell was all around her, clinging to her hair and to her skin. Her eyes fell to his arousal, thick and swollen. She reached for it, unafraid, unthinking, and as her hands surrounded his hot shaft, he hissed.

  She liked the sound. She worked him—up and down, from root to tip and with each groan that escaped his mouth, Persephone grew more confident. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of his cock.

  “Fuck.”

  And then she took him into her mouth and Hades braced himself against her shoulders. She didn’t know what to do—she had never done this before, but she liked the taste of salt on his skin. Her teeth grazed the top of his head as she moved him in and out, and soon his hips moved, too—harder and faster until he pulled her away.

  Confused she asked, “Did I do something wrong?”

  His laugh was dark, his voice husky, his eyes predatory. “No.”

  His hand gripped the back of her neck and he kissed her, his tongue reaching deep before he tore away and said, “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you.” She was breathless and desperate.

  He pushed her back, and climbed over her, covering her body with his, stretching out so she felt the press of his erection against her stomach.

  “Tell me you lied,” he said.

  “I thought words meant nothing.”

  He gave her a bruising kiss, and his touch lifted heat from her skin, searing a path everywhere he went.

  “Your words matter,” he said. “Only yours.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him against her heat.

  “Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Tell me,” he said. “You used words to tell me you didn’t want me, now use words to say you do.”

  “I want you to fuck me,” she said.

  He groaned and kissed her hard before teasing her by moving his cock up and down her damp entrance. She pulled him toward her, urging him inside and Hades laughed—she growled, frustrated.

  “Patience, darling. I had to wait for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice quiet, sincere—and then he filled her completely.

  She cried out, head falling back into her pillow. She covered her mouth to keep quiet, but Hades removed her hand,
holding her wrists above her head.

  “No, let me hear this,” he said, savagely.

  He impaled her over and over again. There was nothing slow or gentle about his movements, and with each thrust, he spoke, and she cried in ecstasy.

  “You left me desperate,” he said, pulling out until he was barely inside of her. Then he thrust into her hard.

  “I have thought about you every night since.”

  Thrust.

  “And each time you said you didn’t want me, I tasted your lies.”

  Thrust.

  “You are mine.”

  Thrust.

  “Mine.”

  He moved deeper and faster, pumping into her. She lost herself in him, and pressure built in her stomach and exploded. Hades came soon after. She felt him pulse inside of her and then he withdrew, a gush of warmth spread over her thigh. He collapsed against her, sweat-soaked and breathless.

  After a moment, he drew back, pressing kisses to her face—her eyes, her cheeks, her lips.

  “You are a test, Goddess,” he said. “A trial offered to me by the Fates.”

  She couldn’t think straight enough to respond. Her legs felt shaky, and she was gloriously exhausted.

  When Hades moved, she reached for him, “No. Don’t leave.”

  He chuckled, kissing her once more. “I will come back, my darling.”

  He was gone a moment and returned with a damp cloth. He cleaned her, and then moved her, fitting her back against his chest, and pulling her close. Wrapped in his warmth, she fell asleep.

  Sometime later, Persephone woke to Hades grinding into her from behind, his arousal hard and thick against her bottom. As he gripped her hips, he trailed kisses up her neck. Her need for him overpowered her exhaustion, and she turned her head, meeting his soft lips, desperate to taste him again.

  Hades guided her onto her back and climbed on top of her, kissing her until she was breathless. She tried reaching for him, wishing to twine her fingers into his soft hair, but he restrained her, pinning her wrists over her head. He used the position to his advantage, nibbling her earlobes, kissing down her neck, and grazing her nipples with his teeth. Each sensation drew a breathy moan from Persephone’s throat, and the sounds seemed to fuel Hades’ lust. He made his way to her thighs and wasted no time parting her legs and lapping at her wet heat. His fingers joined, thrusting into her hard and fast, working her until her moans came in quick succession, until she could hardly take in breath, and when she came, it was with his name on her lips—the only word she’d spoken since this began.