Their lips met—their kiss sinful and rough and desperate. Persephone felt feverish and frenzied. The adrenaline made her bold, and she reached into his pants, working his cock with her hand. Hades groaned, his teeth skimmed her bottom lip as he pulled away to explore her jaw and neck and breasts.

He looked stunned when she pushed him away. They stood apart for a moment, breathing hard, hot and wet and wild. Then Persephone planted a hand on his chest and directed him backward until the back of his knees hit the bed.

“Sit,” she commanded.

He did, and she held his gaze as she knelt before him. His eyes glitter like obsidian.

“You look like a fucking queen,” he said.

A corner of her mouth lifted. “I am your queen.”

She wrapped her hand around his length and stroked him from root to tip, her thumb moving lightly over the head of his cock.

“Persephone.”

He growled her name, and she took him into her mouth. Hades moaned, his fingers twining into her hair. She took him deep—to the back of her throat, and then into the side of her cheek. She paused to lick and suck, reveling in the taste of him.

“Yes,” he hissed. She could feel him growing thicker, pulsing, and when he came, she drank from him like she had never tasted anything so sweet. Hades drew her to her feet—he kissed her, possessed and paralyzed her. He left her dress in a puddle on the floor and guided her to his bed, divesting himself of his own clothes before covering her body.

He was warm and solid, and he fit against her like he was made for every contour of her body. As he loomed over her, she reached up and drew a piece of his silken hair around her finger.

“Why do you wish to be married?”

Hades’ brow rose, clearly the question amused him. “Haven’t you always dreamed of marriage?”

“No,” she said, and she was being honest. She had never really considered marrying someone as a possibility before. Her mother made sure she never met anyone for the first eighteen years of her life, and once she was free, she was so focused on college and landing a job, she hadn’t thought much about relationships. “You didn’t answer my question. Why is marriage important to you?”

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully. “It became important to me when I met you.”