exuded sex. She couldn’t help but lick her lips in anticipation. There was something to be said for the grudge fuck.
“Drinks or bottles, sweetheart?”
“If you don’t have a heart, why are you numbing yourself? Habit?”
“Because I still have a soul. Aphrodite couldn’t help me with that one.” He took another swallow.
“Aren’t you just the tormented creature? Next thing we know, you’ll be flinging the gates of Tartarus wide so all those you’ve punished can find peace in Elysium,” Hera sneered.
“What do you want ?” he growled. “I thought after yesterday’s little scene you’d realized your mistake.”
“I told you. I want to make you a king and be your woman. But with all that vodka in you, I don’t think you’re up to either task.”
“Keep pushing me, Hera. Without a heart, there’s nothing to keep my temper reined.” The expression he wore was hard and unforgiving.
“Do you want me to be afraid of you? I don’t fear you, Hades. I never have.”
He spun on his booted heel and crossed the room, backed her against the cold stone of the wall. Hera was breathless and maybe a little nervous of his intent, but whatever he wanted to do to her, she wanted it.
“Not even when you were young?” His whisper was close enough to brush her lips. “You were very much afraid of me then. I watched you in the shadows and when you fell down the rabbit hole to Tartarus, I thought you were a gift from powers greater than Olympus.”
She shivered, remembering his eyes on her all the time, how vulnerable she’d felt, exposed. What Hera would give to feel that again with him, vulnerable but soft, protected. Safe. Hera had feared him as a male, but she’d trusted him to keep her safe down here in the recesses of the world.
“You were beautiful, Hades. I was afraid, but I wanted you too,” she confessed.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and for one glorious moment, Hera thought he was going to kiss her. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
“So why didn’t you say yes when I asked your father for you?” he asked, his tone still seductive, but with an edge like a knife beneath every word.
“My mother said you were dangerous and wild, that you’d take me down to Tartarus and I’d never see Olympus again.”
“Do you remember when I kissed you the first time?”
“In Aphrodite’s grotto.” She leaned closer, but Hades captured her wrists and held them above her head. She yearned for more of his touch, but he kept a careful distance between them.
“You were asleep beneath the stars, with daydreams on your lips and moonbeams on your brow.” He took one lock of her hair between his fingers. “Your hair was a pool of crimson spread out behind you and your skin so luminous in that pale light.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Your lips were rose petals—parted in sweet invitation.”
She gasped and arched against him in an involuntary movement, her body reliving those memories on a cellular level.
“I awoke in your arms. Your hands were all over me and I wanted you to stop, but I wanted more too. I felt like I was on fire and frozen at once. Yes, Hades, I confess, I was afraid of everything you made me feel.”
“And now, what are you afraid of?”
“You’ll stop and I’ll never feel those things again,” Hera confessed and tilted her face up, hoping for his kiss.
“What if I told you that you won’t? That I’ll never touch you again?”
“I’d tell you to get your damn hands off me then because you’re touching me now and whether you want to admit it or not, your body still wants mine even if the rest of you doesn’t.”
“This is quite the change from little Miss Vulnerable yesterday. Zeus take another runner at it? Give you a little confidence boost?” he sneered.
“Don’t be a bastard to me because someone else hurt you.”
“There’s where you’re mistaken, sweetheart. I’m being a bastard to you because you hurt me,”
“Drinks or bottles, sweetheart?”
“If you don’t have a heart, why are you numbing yourself? Habit?”
“Because I still have a soul. Aphrodite couldn’t help me with that one.” He took another swallow.
“Aren’t you just the tormented creature? Next thing we know, you’ll be flinging the gates of Tartarus wide so all those you’ve punished can find peace in Elysium,” Hera sneered.
“What do you want ?” he growled. “I thought after yesterday’s little scene you’d realized your mistake.”
“I told you. I want to make you a king and be your woman. But with all that vodka in you, I don’t think you’re up to either task.”
“Keep pushing me, Hera. Without a heart, there’s nothing to keep my temper reined.” The expression he wore was hard and unforgiving.
“Do you want me to be afraid of you? I don’t fear you, Hades. I never have.”
He spun on his booted heel and crossed the room, backed her against the cold stone of the wall. Hera was breathless and maybe a little nervous of his intent, but whatever he wanted to do to her, she wanted it.
“Not even when you were young?” His whisper was close enough to brush her lips. “You were very much afraid of me then. I watched you in the shadows and when you fell down the rabbit hole to Tartarus, I thought you were a gift from powers greater than Olympus.”
She shivered, remembering his eyes on her all the time, how vulnerable she’d felt, exposed. What Hera would give to feel that again with him, vulnerable but soft, protected. Safe. Hera had feared him as a male, but she’d trusted him to keep her safe down here in the recesses of the world.
“You were beautiful, Hades. I was afraid, but I wanted you too,” she confessed.
His gaze dropped to her mouth and for one glorious moment, Hera thought he was going to kiss her. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue.
“So why didn’t you say yes when I asked your father for you?” he asked, his tone still seductive, but with an edge like a knife beneath every word.
“My mother said you were dangerous and wild, that you’d take me down to Tartarus and I’d never see Olympus again.”
“Do you remember when I kissed you the first time?”
“In Aphrodite’s grotto.” She leaned closer, but Hades captured her wrists and held them above her head. She yearned for more of his touch, but he kept a careful distance between them.
“You were asleep beneath the stars, with daydreams on your lips and moonbeams on your brow.” He took one lock of her hair between his fingers. “Your hair was a pool of crimson spread out behind you and your skin so luminous in that pale light.” He brushed the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. “Your lips were rose petals—parted in sweet invitation.”
She gasped and arched against him in an involuntary movement, her body reliving those memories on a cellular level.
“I awoke in your arms. Your hands were all over me and I wanted you to stop, but I wanted more too. I felt like I was on fire and frozen at once. Yes, Hades, I confess, I was afraid of everything you made me feel.”
“And now, what are you afraid of?”
“You’ll stop and I’ll never feel those things again,” Hera confessed and tilted her face up, hoping for his kiss.
“What if I told you that you won’t? That I’ll never touch you again?”
“I’d tell you to get your damn hands off me then because you’re touching me now and whether you want to admit it or not, your body still wants mine even if the rest of you doesn’t.”
“This is quite the change from little Miss Vulnerable yesterday. Zeus take another runner at it? Give you a little confidence boost?” he sneered.
“Don’t be a bastard to me because someone else hurt you.”
“There’s where you’re mistaken, sweetheart. I’m being a bastard to you because you hurt me,”
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