A Touch of Chaos (Hades x Persephone Saga Book 7)

Hades followed Persephone into the queen’s suite where Harmonia lay near death, clinging to life by a frayed thread. He had sensed the change in her before they left but hoped the Fates would let her live for as long as possible. They did not like when their chosen allotment and destiny were disrupted, which was likely why she’d held on this long, but even they would not stop a thread from snapping if the soul decided it was time.

It was the only mercy they ever granted.

He did not approach the bed with Persephone, choosing to stand apart from the others, watching as Sybil, Leuce, and Aphrodite shooed Opal off the bed and pulled the blankets back, allowing Persephone to lay the Golden Fleece over Harmonia. They all silently waited for its power to take effect.

Hades had been able to feel it, a warmth that seeped deep into his skin. In truth, he felt better than he ever had, even before his imprisonment in the labyrinth. He hoped the same would be true for Harmonia.

“She’s taking deeper breaths,” Sybil said, voice rising with hope. She leaned over her, smoothing her hair. “Harmonia, we love you. So much.”

The color returned to Harmonia’s face and lips, and then she stirred, and suddenly, everyone burst into tears.

When Harmonia opened her eyes, she frowned. “Why is everyone crying?”

Her question was followed by a round of harder tears and laughter and Opal yipping and chasing her tail.

Hades’s gaze shifted to Hecate as the goddess approached.

“The fleece was not easy to obtain, was it?” she asked.

“I did not expect it to be easy,” said Hades. “But I have to admit, I thought Ares would be more moved by Aphrodite’s plight.”

“Few among the gods have any love for Ares and his violence,” said Hecate. “He likely saw an opportunity to gain his father’s favor.”

And in the process, he’d sacrificed the friendship of the only goddess who had ever offered him kindness.

“I do not know how he will retaliate,” said Hades. “It was Persephone who ended his bloodlust.”

“He will likely wait for the battlefield,” said Hecate. “He will want her distracted, given that he has lost to her one-on-one.”

Though he had already targeted her during battle before.

“Aphrodite will be devastated,” Hades said in a low voice.

“She will,” said Hecate. “But it will give way to her rage, and that is the level of power we need right now.” They exchanged a look. “It will not be long now,” she said. “Once the first blow is struck before mankind, the war for dominion over Earth begins.”

That was what Zeus and his loyalists failed to understand. This was not just another attempt to overthrow the King of the Gods. It had become more than a fight for a single throne. It was a fight for every throne on Olympus, a fight for worship from a population that had been shown the neglect of the gods, and Hades feared that by the time they realized it, it would be too late.

“Enjoy tonight,” said Hecate. “It may be the last you have alone for quite some time.”

She left his side, and Persephone approached, her eyes swallowed by darkness. Her face was flushed, and he could feel that same warmth in the pit of his stomach.

They left, teleporting to their chamber.

Their gazes held, and so did the distance between them.

Hades could feel the tension building. It tightened every muscle in his body and thickened his cock.

“I have no intention to rest, no desire to sleep,” he said. “I want to spend every second making up for each day I was absent from you.”

His words were met with a pleasing shiver. It made her nipples hard beneath her shirt.

“Then why are you wasting precious time talking?”

His lips twitched.

Spoken like a true queen.

And then there was suddenly no space between them as they came together, their mouths colliding. Hades drove her back into the post of the bed, gripping her hard as he ground into her, the friction sending a dizzying thrill straight to his head.

He smoothed his hands over her ass and then dragged her up his body, and as she twined her legs around his waist, he carried her to bed where he kissed her harder and deeper, until his lungs burned from drowning in her.

Only then did he move on, trailing his lips along her jaw and neck, pulling up her shirt for access to her breasts, which he lavished with his tongue while she raked her fingers through his hair until it was free from its tie.

As he made his way down her stomach, Persephone started to shimmy out of her jeans, and Hades chuckled.

“Always eager,” he muttered as he helped, stripping the jeans from her legs.

He took a moment to appreciate the way she looked before him—body flushed and open, her sex already wet, soon to be full of his come.

“Hades,” Persephone whispered his name, a note of worry in her tone.

He met her gaze, and he thought that she had never looked more beautiful—more his. The vibrant green of her eyes was swallowed by the darkness of her pupils, filled with a desire for him. Her lips were swollen from their kiss, her skin marked by his mouth.

“I want you to feel me inside you for weeks after this night,” he said. “When you are on the battlefield, this is what you will fight for, the pleasure of being beneath me again.”

Her eyes narrowed. He could not tell if she liked his words, but then she sat up and her mouth was level with his cock, which pressed, thick and heavy, against the rough material of his pants.

“And what will you fight for, King of the Underworld?” she asked.

Despite the layer between them, he could feel the warmth of her breath on him, and it made him regret that he was still clothed.

He stared down at her, trying to imagine how he must look right now. He felt rigid, and his energy was angry and a little violent, a storm that made the air between them crackle.

She unbuttoned his pants and took out his cock, handling it as if it belonged to her—though he supposed it did.

She shifted forward on the bed, jerking her hand up and down his shaft.

“Will you fight for this?” she asked as she licked him from root to tip, ensuring her eyes met his as she collected the come that had beaded at the top.

He filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly, fisting his hand in her hair as her mouth closed around him.

“Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, throwing back his head for a moment as he focused on the warmth of her mouth, the pressure of her tongue, the feel of her hand wrapped around his flesh. Somehow, though she only held this one part of him, she managed to invade his entire being.

His fingers tightened in her hair, and she let him slide from her mouth between the firm hold of her lips, gazing up at him with those eyes, clouded with things he recognized—grief and anger and violence—and he wondered if they would ever have taken root in her soul if they had never met.

“I like your mouth, my queen, especially when it is around my cock,” he said, brushing his thumb over the swell of her bottom lip.

“I am waiting for your answer, my king,” she said.

What will you fight for on the battlefield?

He studied her, very much aware that his heavy cock remained between them, wet from her mouth and aching.

“Do you ask because you do not know or because you wish to hear me say it?”

“It does not matter,” she said. “I gave you a command.”

“Oh, it matters, my love,” he said. His hand slipped to her neck, and she tilted her head back farther. “If the first, I shall have to remind you of my devotion, but I warn you, it will not be kind.”

He did not have that sort of control within him tonight, but she knew that. She could feel it just as much as he could feel the violent storm of her emotions.

“I did not ask for kindness, my king,” she said. “You promised to fuck me.”

He would have laughed, not at her but in disbelief that any of this was real, had her words not made his ears ring and the blood rush right to the head of his cock.

His mouth came down on hers, and he guided her to her back, kissing her with his teeth and tongue, ruthlessly claiming her mouth. His hand was still wrapped around her throat as he thrust his cock against her naked flesh. The friction felt so fucking good, but it did little to relieve the ache of his need for her, especially with the way she writhed beneath him.

He released her and slipped off the bed to remove his clothes. He liked the way she rose onto her elbows to watch him, her breasts heavy, her nipples peaked and rosy, her legs open.

He looped his arms under her knees and jerked her toward the side of the bed. He bent over her and took her mouth, kissed between her breasts and her stomach, and then knelt between her thighs, where his lips and tongue caressed that sensitive skin, retreating when he came too close to her sex, enjoying the way her color deepened and her clit swelled beneath the teasing.

“Hades,” Persephone gritted out, digging her heels into his shoulders.

He chuckled, dragging his nose along the inner part of her thigh. Her frustration was palpable, her body wound so tight, he wondered if she would explode the moment his mouth touched her.

She glared at him, and he held her gaze, his mouth hovering over her heated flesh.

“I did not promise kindness,” he reminded.

He noticed how her skin pebbled at the feel of his breath.

“No,” she said. “But I will hardly remember the feel of your teasing on the battlefield.”

He didn’t recognize the laugh that came out of his mouth.

“Oh, darling, I will never let you forget it.”

His hold tightened as his mouth came down on her.

At the first touch of his tongue, she sighed. The sound went straight through him to the head of his cock, which brushed against the cool silk draped over the bed. It made the roar in his head louder and his desire burn hotter.

Fuck.

Despite her eagerness, he started slow. Even if she did not realize it, he was at her command. Each deep moan, each choked breath guided him to continue with the pressure and pace of his tongue.

When he took her clit into his mouth, circling and sucking, he slipped his fingers inside her.

Fuck. She was so wet, she felt like silk.

He couldn’t wait to feel this all around his aching cock.

He curled his fingers inside her and kept his mouth on her clit, setting a ruthless pace. She squirmed beneath him and seemed torn between grinding into his face and retreating altogether, both desperate and overwhelmed by the pleasure. Still, he held her there, tightening his grip. He could feel her rising toward release, tensing and easing until her muscles finally locked and her orgasm descended.

He kept the pressure on her clit, each pass of his tongue eliciting a harsh cry from her open mouth. When she finally relaxed, he released her and rose to his feet, climbing into bed and sliding between her legs.

He stroked the head of his engorged flesh through her slick heat.

“Hades, please,” she moaned, trying to shift closer.

“Do you remember what I said?” he asked.

“That you would not be kind,” she said, and then she reached and wrapped her fingers around his wrist—the same hand that held his cock at her entrance—and whispered, “I can handle you.”

Those words were enough, and he slid inside her with a single hard thrust.

Persephone gasped, and he bent to take her mouth against his, setting a pace that had her rocking beneath him.

“Yes,” she moaned, wrapping her legs around his waist, her fingers digging into his back as she anchored herself against the onslaught.

She took him like a queen, like she was fucking made for him. He moved his hand to her neck and kissed her again, their mouths colliding in a jarring kiss before he sat back. His hand remained on her throat while he slipped the other beneath her knee. He did not cease moving inside her, pounding into her warm flesh, but he did increase the pressure on either side of her neck.

“Oh, fuck,” Persephone breathed, and her hands came down on his arm. Each word she spoke was punctuated by the slam of his hips against her. “It feels so good.”

Her fingers bit into his arm, and the sounds that came from her throat grew louder, a keen cry that made the bottom of his stomach burn.

Fuck, she was perfect.

“Look at me,” Hades commanded, and she opened her eyes, beautiful and green, clouded with lust and love.

He released her neck and bent over her, planting his hands on either side of her face. Their breaths were heavy, their bodies warm and slick, and Hades’s cock throbbed inside her, but he had to say this.

“You asked me what I would fight for on the battlefield,” he said. “It is this. It is to have you look at me with these eyes. You worship me with these eyes.”

A smile curved Persephone’s lips. “You are a romantic, my king,” she said.

“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.