A Touch of Chaos (27 page)

“I am in love,” he said. “There is a difference.”

Persephone's smile widened, and Hades lowered to kiss her, slipping an arm behind her neck. This time when he started to move, it was slow and deep. He was aware of everything that was her—the way her nipples scraped against his chest, the way her knees pressed in at his sides, the way her fingers dug into his biceps.

She held his gaze until she couldn't, and her head rolled back over his arm. Her body was tightening, growing taut beneath him. She was close to release. He felt the burn of his own in the bottom of his stomach, the pressure building at the base of his cock.

He bent and kissed her neck, licking and sucking the skin before burying his face in the hollow of her shoulder. His knees dug into the bed on either side of her ass as he moved a little faster, a little harder, a little deeper.

One of Persephone's hands twisted into his hair, clamping down on his neck as her cries filled the room, one for each new thrust, and then her grasp on him tightened all at once from the inside out, even her breath held, and she began to shudder beneath him as her orgasm hit.

He plowed through it, rocking into each wave until he could no longer contain the pressure building in his own body. He came in a blinding rush, aware only that his body was trembling and his arms and legs were numb. When it passed, he realized that he had collapsed against Persephone and that her fingers were sifting through his hair.

He lifted himself a little, shifting his weight so he wasn't suffocating her, though she did not seem to mind.

“Are you well?” he asked.

He loved staring at her, but especially after sex. He
liked knowing that he was the reason for the flush on her cheeks and the swell of her lips.

She smiled, her gaze heavy-lidded.

“Yes,” she whispered. “And you?”

“I am more than well,” he said.

Neither of them moved, content to lie in the aftermath of their lovemaking.

“I missed this,” Persephone said, and Hades noticed that her eyes were welling with tears as she brought her hands up to cover her face.

Hades frowned and bent to kiss her fingers. “You do not have to hide from me,” he said. “I want all of you, even your pain.”

He waited for her, and after a few deep breaths, she dropped her hands. Her eyes were still watering, and tears spilled down the side of her face.

“I do not know why I am crying,” she said, taking a trembling breath.

“You do not need a reason,” he said, though he would argue that everything she had been through in the last month was reason enough. This was likely the first time she'd had the space to let her body stop fighting, and the reality of the world was crashing down on her all at once.

Hades shifted onto his back, bringing Persephone with him, and he held her as she cried until she was silent and sleeping in his arms.

Hades woke a short time later to Persephone grinding against his cock.

She was already wet and her hands were flat against his chest as she moved. He groaned, his fingers splayed
across her waist, digging into her heated skin. She lowered and kissed him. Her mouth was hot, and her breasts brushed against him just as maddeningly as her slick sex. He took them into his hands, squeezing them together, twisting her hard nipples before he took them into his mouth.

As he devoured her, he felt her hand slip between her thighs. She straightened, riding her fingers as she straddled him, using her thumb to rub her clit. With her other hand, she touched her breasts. She kept her eyes closed, her head rolling from side to side, her breaths setting a pleasing rhythm as she moved back and forth and up and down, chasing some kind of feeling building inside her.

His chest felt so heavy under the weight of his desire, he could barely breathe as he watched her. There was a part of him that wanted to join and a part of him that was content to watch this escalate, to feed the fire of his need for her until he was at his absolute breaking point.

He would see the fucking stars when he was finally inside her, but for now, fuck, she was beautiful, and she was his for an
eternity
.

Her hand fell from her breast to her clit as she worked herself harder and faster, and then she went rigid and fell forward on his chest, her back curling as her orgasm tore through her.

She lay there a moment, breathing hard, before she moved her hand from between her legs and brought her fingers to his mouth. He sucked them hard before releasing each slowly, and then their mouths collided in a wet kiss. Hades bent his knees, which brought his length firmly against her ass, his hands already digging into that soft flesh and spreading her wide.

She seemed to understand what he wanted and sat back, reaching behind to run her palm over the head of his cock before she rose and slid down him with a moan.

Hades took a deep, audible breath, and Persephone smiled at the sound, rocking back until he was fully and completely encased in her warmth. She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his chest, then let her tongue slide over each of his nipples. She moved as if she were about to put her mouth on his, only she didn't.

Instead, she rose until he was barely inside her before coming down hard. Then she did it again and again, and slowly her pace began to increase until the sounds of their flesh slamming together filled the room. He loved it, wanted more of it. His hands tightened on her waist, and when she grew tired, he took over, thrusting into her. He couldn't decide what he liked most: the way her breasts bounced as he took her or the look of ecstasy on her face. Both filled him with an insatiable lust.

He shifted, framing her face with his hands, holding her in place. The instructions were clear—
look at me
.

She did.

Her hands flexed over his shoulders, her knees pressed in on his sides, and her mouth hovered over his, her breath hot on his lips. His eyes fell there, and then he kissed her and rolled, bringing her beneath him. He ground into her a few times as their tongues clashed before rising to his knees. He gripped her thighs and pulled her closer until he could feel her ass against his balls, and then he drove his hips into hers, his muscles tightening with each arch of her back and twist of her fingers into the sheets.

Then she started to move, and he was completely
lost, unaware of anything save her. His fingers spread across her skin as he gripped her hips harder. He knew she was close when she reached for his thighs, when she ground into him to ensure he stayed in one spot, so he trapped her clit between his fingers, sliding up and down. As her climax swelled, so did her clit, and the urge to take it into his mouth was too overwhelming to pass up.

He withdrew from her to the shock of Persephone, whose cry of frustration was silenced by a deep moan as his mouth closed over the swollen bud, sucking and licking until the first wave of her orgasm hit. As she writhed, he kept pressure on her clit with his fingers and slammed into her again, letting her muscles contract around him and coax him to release.

He groaned as the first stream of come burst from him. The second made his arms shake, and after the third, he collapsed against Persephone's slick skin. He rested his head against her breasts as her fingers shifted through his hair. He was so content and his eyes so heavy, he could have fallen asleep, but then Persephone spoke.

Her voice was almost jarring after they'd spent so long in silence, save for their ragged breaths, though sometimes Hades felt like their bodies said more than words could manage.

“How do I know if my mother was fated to die?”

That
is what you're thinking about right now?

It was what he wanted to ask because he'd much rather know that she was thinking about him and how he'd just fucked her utterly and completely mindless.

Except that, apparently, he hadn't.

He'd have to try again.

Except he knew why she was asking this question. She was trying to find a way through the guilt, to lessen the blame.

He lifted his head and met her gaze. “Do you think knowing will make accepting your role in her death easier?”

Her breaths grew heavier, and he knew she was about to cry. He shifted higher up her body so their faces were aligned.

“I don't know how to live with this,” she said, her body quaking beneath him.

He shifted to his side, pulling her back to his chest, curling himself around her as she sobbed. It was all he could offer. He had nothing else.

Theseus waited by the door of Zeus's office wearing the Helm of Darkness. Hypnos, God of Sleep, whom Theseus had plucked from the Underworld during his attack, had taken the form of a colorful bird and was chained to a perch nearby.

Across the room, Hera stood before a row of tall windows overlooking the vast estate she shared with the God of the Sky on Mount Olympus. She was dressed in a silk robe, cinched tight around the waist. She had anointed herself with oils that smelled both sharp and sweet, and when she moved, her skin glistened. She was sure to be an inviting treat for Zeus, who would not see that she was too proud to be beautiful and too severe for seduction, because despite his wandering eye and raging cock, he loved her.

“What is taking so long?” Theseus demanded in frustration.

He checked his watch.

They had been waiting for over an hour, and he was growing impatient. This was only the start of his plan, but its success would determine how the rest of the day—and those following—unfolded.

“You expect Zeus to be mindful of my time?”

“Any man would be mindful of time when sex is on the table,” he said. “Unless, of course, he is not motivated by the promise of your body.”

Theseus noted how the goddess stiffened and glared in his direction, though she could not see him.

“I
asked
for a meeting,” she said.

“So you thought to lure him with the promise of what? Talk?”

She ignored him, and there was silence in the room.

“Are you certain you can seduce him?”

“Do not mistake my disgust for an inability to execute this plan,” she snapped and returned her gaze to the window. “He is probably off seducing some lowly mortal.”

Her words rang with bitterness, and Theseus found that he did not understand her jealousy. If she did not love her husband, why should she care who he fucked? It was not as if she did not benefit from his power and title, but he did not often understand human emotion, and gods seemed to be more human than even mortals.

It was an attribute Theseus did not possess. The closest thing he had ever felt to passion was violence.

He liked violence, preferred it, and his future would be full of it.

Suddenly, the air in the room felt charged with electricity, and Zeus appeared as quick as a lightning strike, his presence just as thunderous. Though Theseus
had a lot of contempt for the God of the Sky, the truth was that his very presence commanded attention. Even Hera could not deny it as she whirled to face him, though she would likely claim she was only playing a role.

“My king,” Hera greeted.

“Hera,” Zeus said, his voice a low rumble. His eyes glittered darkly as they trailed down her robed body, lustful despite the loss of his balls at the hands of the goddess Hecate. “You have not dressed for the day.”

“I have not dressed at all,” she said and let the silk slip from her shoulders, pooling at her feet.

The air in the room became thick and heavy with Zeus's desire but also his suspicion.

“Why did you summon me?”

“Is it not obvious?” she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. “It is not usual.”

Hera let her eyes drop for a moment, and she took a step forward before meeting his gaze again, almost shyly. “I hoped we might put our differences aside.”

Zeus also stepped closer.

“We have many, Hera,” he said, though his voice had grown quiet—the tone of a lover and not a king. Perhaps that was Zeus's greatest downfall. At heart, he wished to be a romantic and not a ruler.

“Have we not always overcome?” Hera asked. Now she was so near to Zeus, her breasts brushed his chest.

“This is a trick,” he said.

Hera's eyes flashed. “Can I not desire my husband?” she asked, her tone hinting at the fury boiling in her blood.

Theseus wondered if her anger would sway him or if it would ruin this moment.

Zeus studied her for a long moment, his eyes falling to her lips.

“I have dreamed of it,” he admitted quietly. “But I can hardly believe it is true.”

“Then touch me,” she said. “And know that I am real.”

Hera reached for his hand and guided it to her breast, where Zeus's eyes stayed as he squeezed her, pinching her nipple between his fingers. Hera's breath caught, and she closed her eyes. Her mouth was tight, and her arms went to her sides, fists clenched. They were signs that could be interpreted as desire, and they seemed to satisfy Zeus, who bent his head closer to Hera's.

“I cannot please you the way I wish,” Zeus said, and she opened her eyes to hold his gaze. “But I can bring you pleasure all the same.”

It took Hera a moment to speak, to gain control over her voice as she managed to lie.

“All that matters is that it is you.”

Zeus kissed her, and his hands sank into her skin as he brought her slick body to his.

When he broke away, he spoke, his mouth close to hers. “You know it has only ever been you,” he said, impassioned. “I have only ever loved you.”

“Shh,” Hera implored. “Do not speak. Love me instead.”

Zeus's eager mouth closed over hers again before he kissed along her jaw and down her neck. Her fingers tangled into his graying hair as he made his way to her breasts, lapping at the oil coating her skin.

“You taste so good,” he said with a growl.

Like sleep
, Theseus hoped, annoyed that this was
taking
so long
. He glanced at Hypnos, who remained on his perch, eyes averted from Hera and Zeus's painful display of affection.

Had Hypnos given Hera a fake potion? It would be one way to enact revenge.

If something did not happen soon, Theseus would snare Zeus and Hera together. What torture it would be for the Goddess of Marriage to be trapped beneath her husband, who would then know her seduction had only been a scam.

There was a part of him that wanted to witness that aftermath.

Zeus continued his descent, and as he lowered to his knees, Hera turned her head to the ceiling.

“How long does it take?” she asked.

Zeus chuckled, assuming her frustration was borne from ignorance.

“Patience, my pearl,” he said. Hera's gaze dropped to his, and his expression grew very serious, his eyes shining with a strange light. “I will kneel for no one but you.”

Hera let her hands thread and twist into his hair as he pressed kisses to each of her thighs, his mouth inching closer to her sex.

He groaned, and then his head fell heavily against her legs.

“Zeus?” she asked and then took a step back.

He swayed and then fell to the ground with a hard smack.

“By the gods, that took long enough,” Hera said, snatching her robe from the ground and securing the tie firmly around her waist. “I shall have to bathe in acid to scrub the memory of his touch from my skin.”

She shuddered visibly.

Theseus removed the Helm of Darkness while Hypnos transformed from a chained bird to a chained god.

“If you had used the potion the way I instructed, you would not have had to endure such…torture,” said Hypnos haughtily. “It was meant to be consumed, not licked from your body.”

“I
told
you,” Hera snapped. “Zeus will not accept food or drink from me.”

“Could it be because the last time you offered him a draught, he woke up in chains?”

“Perhaps he should not wake up at all,” said Hera, glaring down at her sleeping husband.

“As much as I would like to indulge you,” said Theseus, “we need him.”

“
You
need him,” Hera countered. “I am not trying to win Cronos's favor.”

“But you are trying to win a war,” said Theseus.

“Yes,” Hera hissed. “And you released the one Titan who has had endless time to dream of all the ways he will take his revenge against the Olympians.”

“Perhaps you should cease considering yourself an Olympian.”

“Do you think that will matter? Cronos does not forget transgressors.”

“A trait you seem to have inherited from him,” said Theseus.

“And
you
inherited your father's arrogance,” she countered.

“I did,” he said. “But at least mine is not unfounded.”

He had killed the ophiotaurus and eaten the golden
apple. He was now destined to overthrow the gods, and he was invincible.

“Well?” Hypnos snapped. “What now?”

Theseus summoned the net with his magic and laid it on Zeus as if it were a blanket, covering his entire body. It was so finely made and so light, it was hard to believe the mesh could restrain a god.

“He will hang in the sky as he hung me,” said Hera. “Let the Olympians bear witness to his shame.”

For a brief moment, Theseus wondered why he hadn't considered trapping her and Zeus. He was under no grand illusion. He knew the goddess had only allied with him in the hope of overthrowing Zeus and taking the throne for herself.

What she failed to understand was that the future of the world did not include Olympians.

“Only Olympians?” Theseus questioned.

Hera stiffened. “The mortal public cannot know. They will question our power.”

“They already question your power,” said Theseus. “And now they will know you can be defeated.”

Hera's mouth tightened, but Theseus held her gaze.

“The lightning bolt, Hera,” Theseus said. “Bring it.”

She did not move.

As he stared at her, four of his men entered the study, all demigods of varying parentage. Two dragged Zeus away, and two dragged Hypnos forward.

“Release me!” Hypnos snapped, struggling in their grasp, but Damian and Sandros, the sons of Thetis and Zeus, maintained their hold.

The god glared at Theseus.

“What are you going to do?” he asked.

“Use you,” said Theseus as a blade materialized in his hand. He jabbed it into the god's neck. Blood gushed from the wound, bathing Theseus in a spray of crimson. Hypnos's eyes went wide, and he gave a few gurgling breaths as he fell to his knees, his white wings spread wide before he tipped forward and landed on his front.

He did not move again.

Theseus looked at Hera.

The goddess had yet to witness the effects of the Hydra's venom or the power of his weapons firsthand.

He was satisfied with the fear in her expression.

“The lightning bolt, Hera,” he said again.

This time, she did not hesitate.