“Thank goodness that’s all it was,” the goddess exhaled.
Riona speared a potato. “Why? What did you guys think?”
Hades sipped his wine before answering. “My first thought was that he found out who your father is, and decided to rod you.” The disgusted look on Riona’s face must have broadcast her confusion. “Lightning rod you, Riona. And now not only shall you survive, you’ll be my witness. Thank you for that, by the way.”
“I was afraid he would ask that stooge, Mortimer, to do it. Such a kiss-ass.” Persephone’s nose wrinkled as though she smelled something foul. “You’re much better. Well, then...”
The lamb disappeared from their plates before Riona decided to speak again.
“And what about that part where he said something about Dee and the woman he’s going to spend the rest of his life with?”
For the first time that evening, her hosts’ reactions split down the middle. While Persephone’s eyes reflected her concern, Hades showed about as much change in his demeanor as if Riona just said, “Oh look, someone has sown an ostrich leg onto my forearm.” Persephone, it seemed, picked up on it immediately. She turned to her soon-to-be-ex and belted him in the arm. “What do you know?”
He kept his eyes on his plate. “Do you accuse me of premonition, wife?”
“I accuse you of keeping secrets, and practice leaving off that wife part.”
With deliberate leisure, Hades masticated his food with measured precision. The laissez-faire disregard for Persephone’s concern soon had her flexing her fingers, and Riona imagined the goddess plunging them into Hades’ nostrils and pulling out his brain.
Finally, her shrill, teakettle voice cracked out, “Hades!”
The crisp linen napkin had specks of oil from the corners of his mouth after he dabbed at it. “I do so love it when you scream out my name. I’m going to miss that. No, I’m not surprised by what he said,” he continued, now speaking to them both. “Forgive me if I sound like an old romantic, but I believe in the concept of soul mates. I believe there is one perfect person for every other person in this world, or any world. Oh, sure, there are others who may suffice for a time, but when your soul finds its other half, it cannot again be separated without suffering tremendous loss. Of all the people who deserve a reimbursement from karma and fate, don’t you think Dionysus has earned that?”
Persephone mumbled. “I thought you hated Dee.”
“Why? Because he threatened to cut my head off, toss my limbs to crocodiles, and fillet my torso after I defended Zeus’ innocence when Clare died? Please, that was the ranting of a zealous youth who already held me in contempt for what he perceived as his sister’s sadness. Oh, make no mistake, he and I will never be what the mortals call ‘BFFs’ these days, but I wish him no ill. If he has finally stumbled upon the woman he’s meant to be with, I hope the fates allow them many years together.”
Gawking, Persephone eyed her husband from the corner of one eye. “What have you done with my real husband?”
“Mrs. Romani,” Hades said, turning to the witch and ignoring his wife, “may I tell you a story?”
Riona barely had her mouth open to ask what kind of story when he plowed forward.
“I have a very distinct memory of the happiest and the most frightening moment in my life; And having lived the better part of four thousand years, that’s no meager statement. But one of the reasons I can recall it with such clarity is because those two moments happened simultaneously. You see, when the first rapture hit, the nephilim were being struck down left and right. My brother led our people high into the mountains, while I fortified the Underworld, and prepared for the onslaught. I summoned the stone of the Earth, using it to block off all entrances to my realm, and protecting the souls who dwelt there under my aegis. And in the midst of all this, knowing my duty to defend my kingdom, my heart called out for Persephone. I had been pursuing her for months. I could still taste her on my lips and remembered the heat of her body against mine from the night before. I feared she would be taken from me before I could tell her how much I loved her. You see, until that moment, I hadn’t realized I did, even though we’d already been planning to wed for quite some time. Oh, I was entranced by her, and considered her a prize, no doubt. But at that moment, that precise moment, when I understood both how much she meant to me, and how I couldn’t bear to be without her, I knew how it felt to be alive for the first time ever. I swore I would do whatever lay within my power to protect her.”
Riona couldn’t help her curiosity. “What happened?”
“He made a deal with the devil, and lost the Underworld,” Persephone interjected. “The Grigori were thrown out of Heaven for fighting alongside the nephilim, and refusing to join in our genocide. They asked Hades for sanctuary, and he agreed, but only if they brought me to him alive and safe. Lucifer accepted it. Only, I was already alive and safe. I was hiding in a cave on Olympus. No one ever would have found me there.”
Hades’ gaze turned steely. “Lucifer did.”
“Only because he disguised himself as you, using that stupid, archangel, morphing thing,” she muttered. “I came out of the cave when I heard what I thought was Hades’ voice,” she told Riona. “Lucifer was on a chariot, and he scooped me with one arm and ferreted me off. I was so confused and scared, when I got to the Underworld, and Hades asked me to wed him right there on the spot, I did. The details of the contract were drawn up after the dust from the rapture settled. Had a few good years there for a while, didn’t we, Dez? Until the Grigori turned on us and overthrew you, that is.”
Dez? Riona stole a quick glimpse at Hades, but he only had eyes for Persephone. The god leaned forward, taking his wife’s slender fingers between his own, and raising them to his lips.
“I’ve never regretted losing the throne as much as I regret losing you. If Dionysius has found his soul mate, I hope they have forever, because I’m learning what it’s like to lose your other half and... Steph, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Not even the devil himself.”
Two blinks and one tear. That was the only thing that came after Hades’ words before Persephone launched herself at him.
Riona sat in a solid block of shock as the goddess straddled her husband, fisting the collar of his dark blue, form-fitted t-shirt, and pulled his mouth on hers. Though Hades’ eyes momentarily went wide, he eased into the act immediately. The table blocked Riona’s line of vision, but she was pretty sure he was hitching up the hem of her skirt and getting ready to kebab the goddess.
Riona took a sip of her water, chiding herself that the low hum of arousal she felt in the pit of her stomach was entirely inappropriate. As was her staring. She should have left, and allowed them some privacy. And that’s exactly what she planned to do, she decided, as Hades ripped down the front of Persephone’s shirt, sinking his mouth onto what Riona felt sure must’ve been one of the sweetest breasts in the ancient world. She lectured herself, commanding her legs to obey and carry her out of the garden, especially when Persephone arched her back. Between her movements and Hades’ groans, Riona suspected Persephone was actually in flagrante at that very moment. Her speedy gasps were kinda creepy, as Riona realized she was breathing only at a slightly slower rate than her friend. By the time she found herself cornering a hedgerow that obscured her viewpoint of the amorous couple, the lamb, potatoes and wine were sent with a whack of Hades’ arms into the bushes, although dishes left near the edges rattled with his every thrust and increasing momentum.
Riona pressed her back into the foliage, and felt a tickle on her arms. Looking behind her, she realized the leaves of the shrubbery were waving in an invisible breeze. Their shuddering moved in time with Persephone’s increasing moans of delight, like the goddess was projecting her sensations onto the plants in order to share the pleasure.
“Worth... you,” Hades ground out between thrust. “Every... thing... was... worth... you.”
God, how could Persephone throw that all that away? Hades invited his enemy
in, and lost his kingdom to the Grigori, and all to ensure Persephone’s safety. If a guy ever did that for Riona, only a crowbar could separate them.
That damned inner voice nagged her again. Someone had done that for her...
Her eyes about bugged out of her head. The caterwauling accosting her ears fell away as Riona ported. Her incarnate being was following the urgency of her need, and taking her to the feet of the person who sacrificed everything he had for her.
She forgot about the chance that her mortal form could melt away in Hell until she was already standing in it. Luckily, it didn’t. At the same time, the inherent understanding that she didn’t belong there overwhelmed her.
However, looking down at the unmade bed Marc lay in, she decided that this was exactly where she needed to be.
Chapter 28
A familiar perfume roused him from slumber, and Marc rubbed his eyes, trying to convince himself it was only a dream. She couldn’t really be there, it was impossible. Then he remembered he was a demon now, and when demons slept, they did not dream.
Riona’s eyes fell the rise of the sheet, focusing on the pitched tent like Indiana Jones eyeing a South American icon while palming a bag of sand in one hand. He couldn’t decide whether to pull her attention to him being awake, or allow her to get her fill, while hoping it might inspire her to do a lot more than look.
After a full thirty seconds, though, it just got awkward.
“Riona.”
“Huh?”
Her head jerked up, and he saw that sexy blush of hers covering her cheeks, giving her hair a run for the money.
He wanted to ask her what she was doing there, how she got there, and if anyone knew that she was in Hell. Instead, he heaved himself up on one elbow, and with his free hand, flexed his fingers, inviting her closer.
She trained her eyes on the wall. “I can’t.”
“You mean you shouldn’t,” Marc said, rolling slowly off the bed. “We both know you shouldn’t, but let’s discuss the coulds rather than the shoulds right now.”
As he reached her, she pivoted. He used the position to press himself into her backside, putting his hands on her hips and bringing her back against his chest and stomach. When she bent slightly, tucking her ass closer to him, his eyes rolled into the back of his head. Holy hell!
“Please, Marc, I’m so...”
He released one of his hands to sneak around her front, tucking it inside the waistband of her jeans. “Wet, Riona,” he purred, teasing her. “You’re so wet is what you are. Just how long were you watching me?”
“It’s not... I wasn’t watching you. I saw... Ohhhh...”
Her voice trailed off as he regulated a rhythm, slowly stroking the sensitive pearl beneath his control. With every pulse, his hips shifted, inducing a parallel friction on him. His other hand undid her zipper and tugged at the fabric.
“Something that inspired you, obviously,” he replied as her panties fell to the floor. Riona leaned forward, placing her hands over her head and planting them on the wall. It took all his restraint not to take her right there, but he wanted her on edge. He wouldn’t last long once he was inside. “I’m okay with that, as long as you let me be the art. Now, let me paint.”
“Marc, the devil...” she huffed, trying to distract him. If he couldn’t pick up on how she moved like a puppet under his control, which was all aimed toward getting her to climax, he was crazy. “He can be defeated.”
Marc grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked, bringing the side of her face back to him. The angle of her torso that ensued, combined with the grip he had on her, made her cry out, though she didn’t know if it was for pleasure or pain. Maybe both.
He spoke into her ear. “I know, but right now, let’s focus on you, Keystone. Is what I’m doing pleasing you?”
“Hell ya.” Riona took one of her hands off the wall and moved it down to where his paused, as he shifted his fingers slightly. As she did so, a guttural gasp emanated from her throat. “But do it like this,” she said, moving his index and middle fingers in a pattern that more suited her.
Even though his every fantasy was playing out, Marc suddenly found himself awash in confusion. “You want me?”
“Not... why... I’m here.” Speech became a problem as her body responded to his efforts. “But, God, yes. Always... wanted... you.”
Fuck. He was done for.
Marc stumbled backward, though his erection looked up at him with a puppy dog eye when it sensed the growing distance. Confused, and hardly able to stand, Riona turned, her face full of misunderstanding and hurt. He ran his fingers through his hair, taking a moment to reorder his mind. This was lust, straight up and unrestrained, and Riona willingly surrendered to it. But she would hate him the moment she realized what she’d done. She’d hate him, and any hope he had of winning her heart would be swiftly gone.
“Marc?”
He looked up, seeing her unlace the collar that held the slit of her tunic closed. Even with it on, he saw how her pert breasts perked up, twin peaks rubbing against the pink cotton of the loose-fitting top.
“Make love to me?”
Resistance: the word was foreign in origin and lacking all context. Hell shuddered around him the moment he entered her. Wet , pulsing, and humming, the feel of Riona riding him was everything he’d ever dreamed. He captured her mouth, licking her lips, and ready to put a hole in the wall, he was pounding into her so hard and fast.
One hand circled her throat while the other cupped her thigh, hitching her leg onto his hip as he drove deeper into her.
“Tell me why you’re really here,” he said with a slight squeeze around a throbbing artery in her neck.
“Because the Grigori didn’t always control Hell. Oh, right there, harder.”
His eyes and mouth wanted to devour her, but they both needed release and had to get past it. “Like this?” he said, angling and lifting her about two inches higher up the wall.
“Hell, yes. Like that. Oh...”
Patience.
“Why’s that important?” he demanded, tempering his own pace so he didn’t go off before she did.
“Because you can defeat them.”
“How? Jesus...” No, not yet. He didn’t want this to be over. Ever.
“The Angelic Blade!” She called out, her voice dissolving into moans. “It can kill angels when they’re in Hell or in Heaven.”
“You’d give it to me? Ah, shh.... I’m... agghhh...”
To his surprise, she anchored her hands on his shoulders and took over, moving her body up and down him as he came. The moment he felt himself erupting inside her, her body answered in kind. A chorus of screams and moans crashed down on him as he felt her tighten around him before she relaxed with a final tremble.
He held her and remained motionless for a moment, loath to let go, and unwilling to let the moment pass. He reveled in the perfection of it, wondering if he could ever repeat it again, or if it even happened at all. He knew they were together on borrowed time. Plus, Azazel would surely have his ass when he found out Marc slept with Riona.
If he found out.
Marc pulled back and locked his gaze on hers, studying Riona’s expression. As he feared, the euphoria was already waning, and hints of shame and confusion were creeping back in. He had to work fast, before she managed to get away.
“Riona, are you saying you’d give me the Angelic Blade? That you’d trust a demon to strike down the Grigori?”
“A demon? No. Never.” She brushed a kiss across his lips, though he could feel the uncertainty radiating from her. “But you? Yes.”
“Riona?” He slipped out of her, ignoring how hard and ready he was, and wanting to take her again right then and there. But, really, how long could her presence in Hell go unnoticed? She should go before someone caught on to it and showed up. “Get your clothes back on.”
“My... what?” Her feet touched the floor, and she looked down, as if realizing for the first time she was half-naked.
&n
bsp; Marc sighed, crossing to where her jeans lay crumpled up on the floor. He slipped her panties back on – the last thing he’d ever think of doing with Riona’s panties – and convinced her to step into her pants.
“How would you get it to me?”
“I’ll leave it on the balcony at Zeus’ tonight at the party. Can you go there to pick it up?”
Marc smiled. “After the way I just got into your pants, you think getting into Olympus would pose any problem?”
He waited for her hand to connect with his face, but to his surprise, she just stood there, albeit, stunned.
“Wait, what? My pants? What... What just happened? Oh, no. Oh, my god. I didn’t... Shit. Shit!”
Steeling himself for the inevitable, Marc planted his hands on the sides of her face and brought his lips to hers. “We made love, Riona. Made love, not had sex, because I love you, and much as you try to resist it, you love me too.”
Tears welled in the corners of her eyes. “I couldn’t stop myself. Fucking angel, fucking spark of life crap! Look, I’m married. Shit, Marc, I’m married, and I...”
“Stop, you’re not going to remember a thing when I’m done with you. You’re just going to remember telling me about the blade, okay?”
“I’m... what?” She looked at him like he was crazy. “Oh, my god, we... But it was really good, and... God, I’ve needed that for so long.”
“I know, baby, I know. But it’s best for both of us if you forget about it for now. After I take care of the Grigori, I’ll come for you. Nothing will stop us then.”
“Forget? How?”
He pointed at his eyes, calling up hellfire to back up his strength, and placing her under his thrall. “Riona Dade...”
“Romani.”
He sighed. “Listen to me, and uncoil your memory. We never made love. You came here only to offer me the blade. I didn’t touch you, or give you what may have been the best orgasm of your life.”
“But you did!”
He should have known that casting a memory charm on her would have been hard.
Hex Goddess (All My Exes Die from Hexes Book 3) Page 19
