Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
They may not be able to hear her, but I can. I both revel in the fact that she’s here now, and loathe that she screams in agony. I should know the sound of each breath she takes. I should know the force of each sob that tears from her throat. I should know the rhythm of her heartbeat at every second.
Nothing should be kept hidden from me. Nothing will be kept hidden from me. This is my realm, and she is mine to do with as I please.
Regardless of the whispers and the fear and judgement from those under my control.
I should stop feeling so much about it, or it will consume me.
“Have you learned anything more?” I question Minox. He’s been watching Persephone while I’ve taken to the courts to calm the disturbance. I may not stay in the room to assure her security all day, but I haven’t let her pass the time unobserved.
“She is lonely, my Lord. She cannot seem to stop crying.” He pauses, as if to carefully consider his next words. “Perhaps…companionship?” Minox offers.
I haven't been able to allow it... I do not trust what I wish to do to her. There’s a desire and a temptation that I barely control in her presence. I cannot offer Persephone more companionship than I have already given, or I will shut the door to the bedroom and never emerge again. It is not often I fear for what I may do, but the consequences are severe and the Fates have warned me.
“Or delicacies of another nature?” he suggests in my silence.
As if I have not considered as much already. As if I have not been holding myself back from gifting her delicacies in every flavor possible. Pleasures of the tongue, yes, but also the body. The pleasure of submission. The pleasure of—
We come to an abrupt stop outside my bedroom door.
A scream tears through the closed door, ringing in my ears.
Minox’s face remains carefully calm. “This is where the spell was cast. No one outside this line will be able to hear her.”
“Good.” The single word is uttered beneath my breath lowly as my hands flex and my muscles tense. She wants war, my beautiful vengeful queen. I’ll be damned if her defiance doesn’t turn me on more than before.
“If you need anything, my Lord—”
“I know where to find you.” I finish the sentence for him more angered by the disruption of my thoughts than anything. I pine for her. I’ve never desired such sinful addiction as I do now.
“Hades!” She screams my name as if a curse. I fucking love it.
Minox inclines his head again and glides away, disappearing into the shadows before he has left the light of the sconces.
It can't be unnoticed that his footsteps, without mine, are much quieter than the noise we made when we were together. It must have been me who was so loud.
Was I trying to warn her? Was I trying to inspire that titillating flush of fear down the front of her chest?
Did I want her to hear me coming? Did I want her to tremble, and blush, and try to think of some way to escape, any way to escape, before returning to the knowledge that such a thing isn’t possible?
Did I want her body to respond to me, slick between her legs, the damp, pink flesh aching to be touched? Did I want her to get wet, thinking of me, and did I want her resolve to weaken just a little more? My cock hardens at every thought. I ache for her in every way.
Have I fantasized, at least once, about how it will sound when she begs for me?
Of course I have. Before she was even in my grasp I memorized the soft gasp of surprise from her sleep where I stalked her.
Quietly, I enter the room as calmly as possible and close the door behind me. The soft click is all that can be heard over her heavy breathing. Anger simmers in the room, the magic and tension palpable. Persephone has not seated herself at the table, nor stayed in bed. Sometimes, I think of her waiting for me to return, her head held high and her power flowing all around her.
It crackles in the room as she stares at me, her wide eyes red rimmed and her pale skin dull from the chill. The darkness in her eyes has never been so threatening. As if she’s nearly a different Goddess entirely. If only for a moment. Her eyes narrow and she looks away.
She sits at the center of the dark rug midway between the windows and the table. From here, I cannot see much but the top of her head, and the tangle of her hair.
Persephone screams again. It’s more of a complaint than a full-blooded scream. Her voice cracking.