Series: Willow Winters
Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74198 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 371(@200wpm)___ 297(@250wpm)___ 247(@300wpm)
I groan out loud. “I want you to put two of your fingers inside yourself.”
She nods her understanding and slides her other hand between her legs, her fingers tentative at her opening before pushing in. Persephone stifles a louder moan behind closed lips.
“Beautiful,” I praise, and catch myself on the frame of the mirror before I realize I have reached for it. “Take your fingers. Take them in deep.”
“Not as deep as you,” she breathes, almost a whine. “Not as good as you.” My love needs me. Fuck, I need her too.
“Pretend,” I order her. “Pretend it’s me. Pretend I’m there with you.” I stroke myself with more vigor. “Faster, my queen. Harder. Do not hold yourself back.”
I need this, I almost say but hold myself back. I’m too entranced by how she works her hips into her own fingers, her eyes closed. This is what she looks like when she thinks of me. This is what my queen looks like when she must take her pleasures in my absence.
I hate it, and yet I am proud of her. Proud that she can feel so deeply. Proud that she can take such joy in her own body. The duality is torture only because I have no choice in the matter.
Persephone makes a small feminine groan of pleasure, her fingers moving faster, and then she tenses, her body arching as she comes with a low cry. She closes her mouth and rides out her orgasm, pushing her face into the chair’s cushion to hide her sounds.
It’s more than pleasure surrounding her. It’s power. I can feel it through the mirror. The fires in my andron flare brighter, as if they can sense her power, too. She is every bit a goddess in her divine pleasure.
When she’s finished, she falls limp onto the throne, panting, and drags her fingers slowly away from her pussy.
Then she peeks out of the corner of her eye and lifts her slick fingers to her mouth. Oh fuck me.
I watch, wordless, as she sucks her arousal off her fingers, her gorgeous eyes locked on mine. I wish nothing more than to grab her wrist and lick her fingers myself. Mine. She is mine.
It’s only when her gaze falls to my cock that I realize I’ve paused my own movements. Although I’m harder than I can ever remember and in dire need. In need of her. My queen who escapes my touch.
Persephone watches me with something like concern in her eyes.
“What about you, my king?” she questions, her tone gentle.
“I—” I clear my throat again. I need Persephone to return to me. I need this torture to be over. “I don’t think it is wise to linger too long, when scrying. No one else should see you like this.”
She nods although the look in her eyes doesn't change. “Are you—”
“I am fine,” I answer. “I will be better when you return. I will have my pleasure then.”
Persephone quickly turns her head. Has she heard some sound? A warning that someone is coming.
“Do not drink from what your father offers,” I say, and Persephone looks back at me.
“You have said that about the wine, and I have listened. But why?”
“I cannot speak of what I know. Not here. Do as I wish, my queen.”
“I will,” Persephone promises, and then the mirror goes dark again.
Persephone
With bated breath I watch the door as the black glass stares back at me. The footsteps I heard in the hall grow fainter. It’s not someone coming to speak to me, then.
I stand on shaky legs and sink into the chair, a cream woven blanket tight around me. The fire blazes hot. I’m faintly covered in a fine sheen of sweat, but it’s more from my orgasm than the heat of the fire. It’s more from seeing Hades than any fire.
I close my eyes for a few moments, thinking of him. The relief of seeing him and even pleasing him in that way is immense.
I drank in the sight of his face.
The difference in how I felt about the god prior to being with him and now is like night and day. He didn’t look as he did when I met him in the Underworld. He’d seemed cold, then. Cold and powerful and almost unfeeling. It’s apparent Hades tried not to show his feelings as we were scrying, but I saw them on his face. The smallest muscles betrayed that he’s unhappy about this arrangement. His desire for me is evident. And I love it.
He misses me. I miss him as well.
My heart beat faster as I touched myself. The act felt illicit, like I wasn’t supposed to enjoy my own body, and certainly not in front of the king of the Underworld during the act of scrying. It was sexy and passionate. Forbidden and heated. My heart sped up from the sensation, and of course from thinking about the way he touched me when we were in bed. I needed every second of that moment with him. I need it again as soon as it can be granted.