As much as I am loathe to admit it, this is what I knew would happen. Worse, I wanted him to kiss me. To fuck me.
To make me cry his name as I came.
He pushes me back toward the bed, half carrying me, the onslaught of his kiss never giving up an inch.
With every passing second, I feel my resolve against Hades weakening. Every brush of his lips on mine, every stroke of his fingers up and down my body. There’s something different in him. I’ve felt him changing, slowly, a more vulnerable side emerging from the darkness.
But it requires anger to bring it out of him.
His tongue plunders my mouth and I find myself meeting it eagerly with my own. I can feel his desire to dominate, to possess me, and it doesn’t scare me like it used to. I welcome it.
“Hades,” I murmur against his lips. He takes my lower lip between his teeth and tugs, swift and hard.
He pulls a groan from my lips with the ease of a puppet master playing with a marionette.
“Quiet, lass.” His growl sends shivers through my body and my nails dig into his chest. Slowly my eyes lift to meet his penetrating gaze, and what I find there makes me pause.
The familiar arrogance has lifted slightly, and a hint of vulnerability is there. “I’m not going anywhere.”
My hands trail to the buttons on his shirt and slowly I slip them open one by one. His grip is firm on my hips, but when I hit bare skin, a slight tremble rolls through him.
Leaning forward, I press my lips to the place that I can see his pulse beating strongly beneath his warm skin. I don’t know how long this softer, gentler Hades will stick around, just as I’m not sure I want him to. There’s something deliciously appealing about the darker, dirtier side that he presents to the world.
“Hades—” I try again.
A strangled groan escapes him seconds before he rips my hands away from him. I’m spun around and dropped unceremoniously into the chair I’d just vacated, then Hades is on his knees in front of me, yanking my dress up and pulling it off in such haste that it gets tangled around my wrists.
“I said, quiet,” he commands with a fierce glare. He kneels down and pulls my ass to the edge of the chair, forcing my legs open with a ruthless grace. He rips my panties down my legs and puts his mouth on my slit. He moans as he tastes my dripping pussy, lapping up every drop that is escaping me. He takes no mercy on me, driving his tongue into me, holding my legs open with his large hands.
“Oh my god, yes,” I breathe, my fingers reaching to tangle in his hair, but he stops me with one hand on my wrists.
“No. Ye dinnae get to touch.”
There he is. That’s the villain I know.
Hades dives back in, his fingers joining his mouth on his assault of me. Somehow, he manages to slide three of his thick fingers into my slick pussy, stretching me almost to the point of pain. But my discomfort quickly morphs to pure pleasure as he sucks my clit into his mouth.
“Hades. Please. I need…”
He sucks harder, his tongue greedily licking. In the deepest part of my being, I feel the orgasm building. But it isn’t until he slides his free hand around to form a V around my clit that the combination of sensations has me chanting his name like a prayer.
The entire time I cascade over the edge into my release he doesn’t let up, not stopping his assault until I’m a shaking mess, slumped back on the chair. Only then does he slide his fingers out, and when he captures my hazy gaze, he licks his fingers one by one.
“Come.”
Hades stands up and lifts me into his arms in one move. It’s an oddly intimate position, cradled against his chest. Unexpected coming from the man who weeks ago was tying me up and putting his thumb in my ass.
He stretches me out on the bed. Propping myself up on my elbows, I watch Hades as he stands at the foot of the bed and agonizingly slowly removes his shirt, then his pants, then his underwear until he’s naked in front of me. The man is truly a work of art, and unbidden a rush of warmth floods between my legs. I ache for him. All of him.
He fists his cock and looks me in the eyes.
“Are ye ready for me to stretch this pussy out and make ye scream my name?”
“Yes,” I whisper, not taking my eyes off him.
“On yer knees.”
I scramble to do as he bids me. He moves around to position himself before me, his cock jumping as I take him in my hands. The tangle of his fingers in my hair stings as he guides my head to where I know he wants me. Yet I resist when he pulls my head toward him. I want to push him, to see his reaction. My reward comes in the form of a deep growl. His hand tilts my chin upward.
