Bride of Fire (2 page)

Pride kept her spine straight, pride and the knowledge that she was the offspring of gods and cherished by them. Here was a woman who knew her worth. Yet she knew nothing of why he valued her. He’d stripped her of her gown and left her by herself to wake on his bed, accompanied only by the flower he’d created to seduce her senses and the carvings to seduce her imagination. She might guess what he wanted of her. She couldn’t know. He wanted that uncertainty between them.

He could see the rapid beat of her pulse at the fragile hollow of her throat and below that, the tightly budded nipples that stood out clearly beneath the satin she wore like a second skin. The fabric draped and clung, revealing every curve from the swells of her breasts to the pubic mound at the apex of her thighs.

“Persephone.” He shaped her name with his mouth and found the sound of it as pleasing as the sight of her here, in his chamber.

“Hades.” She inclined her head slightly, her voice low and musical. He wanted to hear that voice drop into a lower register, to go hoarse as she cried his name out in passion. “Return me at once.”

“You are in no position to make demands.”

Her chin rose higher. “You are in no position to debate. If you return me now, before I am missed, I will let the matter remain between us. If you keep me against my will, you will be forced to release me. You stand only to gain by giving me what I ask.”

“I stand to lose a great deal.” He stalked forward, feeling fierce and predatory at the very thought of releasing her. “Here stands Persephone, beautiful, untouched. A maiden. Mine for the taking. Let you go? How will I be compensated for such a loss?”

Her lips tightened. “You speak foolishness.”

“I speak the truth. You took the flower I offered you. I took you in turn. Now I have you here in my realm, in my chamber. I will have you in my bed. Having gone to great lengths to win this prize, I will not be robbed of it.”

“So you see me as a prize in some game.” She regarded him steadily. “You will not return me untouched?”

Hades came closer, until his body heat warmed hers from proximity and the heady scent of her made his head swim. He touched a fingertip to the pulse at her throat, and traced it down until it rested at the top of the fabric fold that marked her cleavage. He both heard and felt her sharp, indrawn breath, and felt the satin threaten to slip. His cock reacted, hardening in anticipation of the moment the sheet would fall away. His eyes burned into hers. “No. I will not return you untouched.”

He wouldn’t return her at all. He had chosen her, and she, whether she knew it or not, admitted it or not, had chosen him. He could not woo her any other way, so he had sent his blossom to speak for him. If she had not wanted it, he would have left her to her solitary wandering. But she had wanted it. Had clung to it tightly, and defied him over it as if she expected him to take it from her.

“Then you claim me as your bedmate?” Persephone tilted her head back to ask her question, not shying away from his gaze.

“Bedmate. Concubine. Mistress. Queen.”

She blinked, unable to hide her shock. “You would make me your queen?”

“I would.”

She considered that, thoughts flickering over her expressive face too quickly for him to read. “I would never be able to leave here.”

“You will never leave here in any case,” Hades informed her. “Refuse my bed, and you will still remain.”

“As your prisoner.” Was that hurt that flashed in her eyes?

“My guest.” He stroked his fingertip along the line of her cleavage, dipping lower. “All that I have is yours. My kingdom. My treasures. Myself. I will deny you nothing.”

“Except my freedom.” Her voice broke, cracking his heart in the process.

“I will never let you go.” His tone was harsher than he intended, but Hades was resolute. The sooner she accepted her fate, accepted him, the easier it would be for her. She must put aside the foolish hope that he might relent.

If she had not wanted him…well, that would be a different matter. But she hadn’t backed away from him, hadn’t resisted when he took hold of her. Instead, she had gazed up at him while she knelt in the grass as if she found him strange and wondrous. Her hands had trembled in his, but she had not pulled free. She had left them in his grasp. And when he bent to kiss her, she did not evade. She left her face upturned to his, and when his lips touched hers, she had opened them in invitation.

He had captured Persephone’s maiden imagination as surely as he had captured her body. Now he had only to capture her heart, and she would be his in full.

“You will not be permitted to keep me.” She spoke softly, but clearly.

“You are wrong,” Hades said. “I am lord here. My word is law. None grant me permission. I do as I will. And outside of my realm, sweet Persephone…” he bent to brush a kiss against her temple, “none know that I have taken you. To the world above, you have simply vanished.”

*****

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.

“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.