Bride of Fire Page 2

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  Persephone caught her breath as his words sank in. Vanished, without a trace. The earth had opened up and swallowed her. She had been alone; no witness to her abduction existed except the sky above. She swallowed the lump in her throat and whispered, “Why?”

  His arms caged her in a loose embrace. He didn’t pull her closer. Yet. “Why did I take you? I am a king without a queen. I chose you.”

  “I will not be yours.” But she couldn’t bring herself to break free, to draw away from him. The heat of his body drew her. She wanted to warm herself against it. She could almost imagine herself blossoming for him as if he were some dark sun and she a rare night-blooming plant like his orchid. Her nipples brushed his chest, and the thin satin felt like no barrier at all between them. The thought of standing before him naked heated her from the inside.

  He gave a low laugh. “You already are.”

  Could he sense her reaction to him? Did he know the curiosity he aroused? Did he know, oh gods, that her body warmed to his?

  “Return me,” Persephone said again, but this time her tone was unsteady, her voice a thread of sound.

  “No.”

  She licked dry lips. “After.”

  His eyes burned like dark flames. “After?”

  “If I go to your bed…if I give myself to you, will you let me go, after?” She forced the words out, forced herself to be clear and not flinch.

  “You think once will be enough for me.” His arms tightened around her, and she caught a sense of power barely contained. “You think I want only to be the first to claim you. Do not delude yourself, my sweet. I will be your first, your last, and your only. No man will ever have you but me. And I will never let you go.”

  “Please.”

  “Ask me anything else.” Hades drew her inexorably closer, by degrees, until her breasts were flattened against his chest and her body molded to his. His hands slid lower until they cupped the swell of her buttocks and pressed her hips tighter to his. She could feel him hard and engorged against her belly. The evidence of his desire made her tremble. And tempted her. To see, to touch…would he undress for her, display his dark, masculine beauty for her? Would she be allowed to explore his turgid shaft with curious fingers, to learn the shape and texture of him before he buried himself inside her? “All that I am, all that I have is yours for the asking.”

  He had set his mind on her. But men’s minds were changeable. He saw her as a prize, but once she submitted to him, he would tire of the game. Even if he did not, it was absurd. He would never be allowed to keep her. And she did not belong here, in this strange world he ruled.

  And yet.

  What would it be like, to sprawl on that huge bed with him? Beneath him? Could they satisfy their mutual curiosity with no harm done, no one the wiser? Could she satisfy this odd yearning he awoke in her, this ache?

  Being Hades’ cast off lover would hardly interfere with her life. He would send her back to where he had found her, and she would go on as she always had.

  Persephone let her hands rest on his waist and pressed her cheek into the curve of his shoulder. She spoke to the column of his throat. “Will you undress for me? You saw all of me when you removed my clothing. I wish to see all of you."

  She felt his body react, felt his hands grip her with fierce strength. Yet it was tempered strength. He held himself in check for her sake. That unexpected consideration made her throat tighten. He had offered her a flower. A lover’s gift. And she had accepted the offering. She had invited this moment, and now she knew he would be gentle with her. That eased her fear, allowing her to relax in his embrace.

  “I say I will give you anything you ask for, and you ask for my nakedness,” Hades murmured. His hands molded her buttocks, gripped, and kneaded the soft flesh. The heat of his touch burned through the satin. The unaccustomed sensation of a man’s hands on that tender part of her arrested her attention. It felt decidedly pleasurable. It made her want something more. For those hands to slide lower, to cup her between her legs.

  “I did not think it too bold a thing for a mistress or concubine to ask,” Persephone said.

  “It pleases me that my queen would ask it.”

  She shook her head, a tiny movement but she knew he felt it. “I am not your queen. I will not be your queen. But I will be your bedmate.”

  “You lie to yourself if you believe I will be satisfied to have you one time.”

  His ornate, erotic carvings flashed through her mind. He was a man of broad experience and exotic appetites, by all indications. What might he demand of her? Things no other would, she felt certain. To all others, she was Demeter’s daughter. Untouched. Untouchable. Only he dared to touch her. To take her for his own. “Perhaps you will need more than one time to be satisfied.”

  She could hope for that much. Although it was dangerous to want him at all. Hades was not a man to trifle with. If he would not relent, if he demanded she take her place at his side and rule in hell with him, what then?

  If she accepted, she would be bound to him eternally. Bound to this realm forever. Shut away from the warmth of the sun, the ripe fields, the woods and waters teeming with life. Trapped until the end of time with a man who did not, could not, love her. The lord of death did not know love.

  She shivered, suddenly cold despite the heat of his body against hers.

  Chapter Three

  “You’re chilled.” Hades held her closer, then swung her up in his arms in a motion so swift and sure her head spun. He cradled her across his chest and braced her with one arm. He pointed the other at the hearth. At his gesture, flames leapt up. The wall sconces caught and flared to life.

  “I’m all right.” But she clung to him and let him carry her to his bed. It was weak and foolish to swoon at this display of strength, to thrill at the power he wielded over the element of fire without thought. For now, this once, she could be foolish.

  He pulled the velvet cover back and lowered her to the bed. She wondered how she looked to him, draped in black satin and resting on more. Did he find her pretty? Would he compare her to the others he’d had here? Then his hands went to his clothing and she forgot everything else as he revealed himself to her. His shoulders were broad, his chest deep, his stomach ridged with muscles her fingers itched to explore.

  And below that, his hips and belly, long, strong legs, and between them, his cock, engorged and outthrust. She wanted to circle him with her fingers, to measure him with her hand. But when she reached for him, he caught her hands in his.

  “You will be my queen.”

  Persephone shook her head. She could not be his forever. She could be his now, however, and she wanted to be. That yearning that had caught her when she held the blossom that was not of her world rushed back. Aching desire. For him.

  “You deny me?” His face tightened and his eyes darkened. So fierce. He took her breath away.

  “I deny you nothing.” She undid the fold of fabric that held the sheet together and let the slippery satin fall, baring herself.

  “You will accept my bed, but not my throne,” Hades stated, staring down at her.

  Persephone inclined her head, not trusting herself to speak.

  “Then you will be a slave in my chamber, not my equal.” He took her shoulders and pulled her to a sitting position, ran his hands down her arms in a caress that awoke a skin hunger for more, and circled her wrists with his fingers. “My slave is not allowed to touch me.”

  She wanted to protest that, but pride kept her silent. A black satin ribbon glided across the room, appearing from thin air and arrowing to him as if brought forth by the power of his will, long ends trailing. Then she felt it wrap around her wrists, replacing his hands, binding her.

  “Slave or queen, you are mine and I will not let you go.” His dark eyes burned into hers. She could not look away.

  “You will have others,” Persephone said, knowing it was true. “You have had countless others before me, and you will have them after me.
Perhaps alongside me. You want me now, but desire is fleeting. In time it will please you to let me go.”

  And when he tired of her, she would not sit beside him, watching the parade of other women who took her place. Better her lonely meadow fortress than that bitter fate.

  “Was it fleeting desire that made me watch you all these months?” Hades caught her hair in his hands and let it trail through his fingers. “Was it a passing passion that drove me to plot a way to enter your world and take you from it? I am lord here. I can have any woman I please, and it has pleased me to take many. If I wanted only another novelty in my bed, I did not have to steal the daughter of Demeter.”

  His hands followed the long fall of her hair from the crown of her head to the sensitive nape of her neck, down the length of her spine to where it ended in a spill around her hips. “I want you and no other. I will have no other.”

  His voice rang with assurance laced with sexual intent. He wanted her. He would have her. Perhaps he would tire of her soon after, but for now, she had captivated the dark lord, Hades.

  “I do not deny you,” Persephone whispered. She could feel a fine tremor in her limbs, the ache in her center, a strange heaviness in her breasts. Ah, gods, would he not touch her soon? His hands on her hips felt strong and sure, his fingers caressing, holding her as he might when he lay beside her, or atop her, positioned for his possession.

  “You say you will not be my queen.” He shifted one hand, stroking it over her belly. “Will you change your mind if I get you with child?”

  Her breath caught. Could the lord of death give life? Was such a thing possible? “If you give me a child, I will cherish the gift.”

  “But you will not be my queen.” His eyes flashed. “You are stubborn beyond words. And since words will not serve us, it is time to be done with them.” His hand moved lower, cupping her pubic mound. The bold touch undid her. Her eyes shuttered as if to guard some inner part of herself while he had his palm pressed against the petals of her sex.

  “No.” His voice, low and commanding, was underscored by a light squeeze of his hand between her legs. “You will not look away. Open your eyes, Persephone. Watch what I do to you.”

  He stroked her, an intimate caress along her folds without attempting to part them. The heat and pressure of his hand soothed the ache inside her, but not enough. She wanted more. She raised heavy lids and let him see the desire in her eyes.

  “You want me.” Triumph lit his gaze and determination hardened his face. “Sweet Persephone, give yourself to me. I will give you everything you want.”

  He tempted her. How he tempted her. But if she lost her wits, she would be lost forever. “You cannot give me the sun shining on the fields,” she answered.

  “I can give you gold shining in the heart of the earth.”

  Cold metal. Beautiful, but not alive. He could offer her nothing but death. “I will not drink or eat while you keep me.” If she did, she would bind herself to his kingdom. Refusing any sustenance would force a time limit on her captivity; unless he meant to starve her, he would have to return her to her world. If time was short, surely she would not weaken in the face of his temptation.

  His lips tightened. “I will change your mind. I did not take you for a day’s dalliance.”

  If he bent all his will on persuading her, could she withstand it? She would be wiser not to find out. Better to distract him with what they could both have here and now.

  “Show me how you would use your slave.” She fell back on the bed in a pool of her own hair, her bound arms arching her spine so that her breasts her upthrust as if in offering. She slid her knees further apart, giving him easier access to the gateway to her body. Soon more than his hand would touch her there.

  “I will give you no cause for complaint,” Hades murmured. He rose up on his knees on the bed and lowered himself over her until his lips brushed hers in a fleeting caress. “I will give you no reason to wish to leave me, but you will be discontented with the role of slave. You will take your rightful place at my side. Your pride will allow nothing else.”

  Pride would keep her from surrendering her heart and her future, but nothing could keep her from surrendering to the passion he awoke in her. “Kiss me again,” she whispered. The brief pressure of his lips on hers had been the merest tease. Not enough to satisfy.

  “I will do as I please. You refuse to taste, but I make no such vow.” His mouth took hers, hot, hard, hungry. Heat to match his flooded her body. She opened for him, wanting a taste that held no substance and could not bind her. His tongue swept inside at her invitation, invading, seducing and conquering. As he intended to invade and conquer her body.

  Persephone trembled beneath him. She struggled against the satin ribbon that bound her, wanting her arms around him, her hands exploring his sinewy build. But it held her fast.

  He lifted his head, his expression too knowing. “Say the word, and I will free your hands.”

  She forced herself to relax. “You wish your slave bound so I will not forget my place.”

  “Your place is with me, stubborn Persephone. You will admit it before long.” His mouth trailed down her throat, lower, to the cleft between her breasts. He kissed the upper curve of each, then curled his tongue around her nipples by turn. Heat swirled and pulsed in her center. When he drew her nipple into his mouth and sucked, her inner muscles contracted and liquid heat coated the petals of her sex as if she blossomed for him here in this dark place.

  The erotic torment went on and on. He kissed and licked and suckled as if he had all the time in the world to amuse himself while she squirmed beneath him and felt her breath coming faster. The hot pleasure of his mouth on her breasts was not enough. Finally, he turned his attention elsewhere. He kissed his way down her torso, down to the soft skin of her belly, pausing to take a sharp nip at the sensitive indentation of her navel that made her pelvis rock up. He slid lower, settling himself between her open legs. His hands gripped her inner thighs and urged them wider apart. And then his mouth claimed her in a kiss that made her cry out.

  He licked at her folds as he kissed her there, searching out the entrance to her body and penetrating it with a thrust of his tongue. He withdrew it, only to thrust it inside her again, and again. His mouth searched out all her secrets, finding a hidden bundle of nerves that made her cry out again when he suckled her there.

  He kept up the pressure of his lips and tongue on that sensitive nub of flesh while he drew a hand up to trace the her intricate folds, first the outer, then the inner, and then his finger pressed deep within. She clamped tight around that invading pressure, but he would not retreat. He kept it buried inside her, stroking her inner walls with his fingertip until she relaxed by degrees. And then he added a second finger, beginning a rhythm of pushing deep and withdrawing that he echoed with the pressure of his mouth.

  It felt strange and unfamiliar, but so good. She began to crave the rasp of his tongue against that nub of flesh, the pressure of his fingers inside her, widening her, opening her. When he added a third finger, the sensation of being stretched to capacity made her breath catch in her throat while her hips worked frantically as she strained for something more.

  There must be more. Wouldn’t he give it to her?

  “You said you would give me anything,” she protested in a voice gone throaty with desire. “Give me what I need.”

  He raised his dark head. “What do you need, little slave? Do you demand something of me?”

  The words broke through the haze that clouded her mind as compulsion gripped her body. Could he outwit her so easily, tempt her to forget herself in the heat of passion? She forced herself to relax again, fighting the urgency that thrummed inside her. “It is not my place to make demands.”

  But she wanted. Oh gods, she wanted.

  Chapter Four

  His fingers moved inside her, hard and deliberate. Persephone let her head fall back, arching up, reaching for something with all her being. “Perhaps it pleases me to hea
r what my slave desires.”

  “You.” She spoke without hesitating. “You, Hades. Give me all of you.”

  He sat back on his heels. One hand ravished her sex. The other gripped the heavy shaft of his cock and stroked it. “Is this what you desire?”

  That, and more. There would be more when his body joined with hers, but what that more might be, she could not say. She nodded in silence, watching as he worked both himself and her with his hands.

  “It will be a tight fit the first time,” he warned her. He brought the head of his cock down to rub against the sensitive point his mouth had licked and sucked and continued to stroke the turgid length himself with his hand. “I will make it as easy for you as I can.”

  What was easy about this? She ached. She burned. She needed, and what she needed remained out of reach. She wanted to scream, but instead she rocked her hips in time with his hand, taking his fingers deeper when it was his cock she wanted there. She could feel the head of him, hard and hot above his penetrating fingers, but instead of thrusting it deep for her inner muscles to grip, he pleasured himself with his own grip.

  The feel of him there made her inner muscles clench and spasm around the fingers he pushed inside her. Need spiraled tighter. She jerked helplessly in the throes of it, and then her spine bowed as he pressed deeper and she found release in a blinding rush.

  She could feel his cock jerking against her, spilling hot liquid seed that coated her slick, swollen sex. He withdrew his hand from her, drew the head of his penis down to her opening and pushed it inside her with little resistance. He was still coming in thick spurts as he thrust all the way in, the fluid lubricating his shaft and easing his way. He lowered himself over her and kept thrusting in while her body struggled to accommodate the thick length of his cock.