It was her dagger, Persephone realized, recognizing it from the design of the hilt. She made a small sound of disbelief as Hades used the edge of it to tickle her collarbone.

“At least you did not try to leave unarmed,” Hades said. She traced the curve of one breast using the tip of the blade, although she did not press hard enough to break the skin.

Persephone couldn’t bear to look, but she also didn’t dare look away. There was something hypnotic about the play of light on metal, the way the tendons in Hades’ hand stood out where she gripped the dagger.

The blade trailed down, over the plane of her stomach and across the rise of her hipbone. It dipped under the left tie holding Persephone’s underwear together and moved away from her body, sawing through the fabric.

The last thread broke and the tie fell away. Hades repeated the movement on the right side and then used the tip of the blade to pull away the remaining cloth, removing the last scrap of Persephone’s modesty.

Persephone was grateful for the obscuring gloom of the night. Her hands clenched and unclenched, the unpleasant lump of her bound wrists digging into the small of her back. When Hades set the dagger down and ran her hands over Persephone’s hips, she exhaled in a hiss. “You said you would only look.”

“I know.”

Hades’ hands trailed upward, briefly cupping her breasts. She pinched a nipple, and Persephone flinched, shoulders rising as she pulled at her bonds.

“We are not wed,” she ground out between her teeth.

“I know. I am all the things the legends say I am.”

“Merciful?” Persephone tried, as though Hades had a better nature that was vulnerable to flattery.

“Not today.” Hades pressed her knee in between Persephone’s legs, spreading them. With her ankles bound, this pushed her legs to either side, exposing her sex. Hades placed a hand on the inside of Persephone’s thigh, her fingers cool against her flushed skin. Hades exhaled in a hiss. “So soft.”

Persephone turned her head to one side and bit her tongue. The dreams of the earth called out to her, but her head was too clouded to sink down in their embrace.

Hades ran her fingertips from the inside of Persephone’s knee along her thigh, pausing when she reached her sex. She crooked her fingers in a single, long swipe, and Persephone gritted her teeth together not to scream as Hades’ calluses ran over her overly sensitive flesh.

Much to Persephone’s shame, Hades brought her fingers up to inspect them, seeing how they glistened. She placed them between her lips and ran her tongue over them, her eyes dark with lust. “Which one of your nymphs has tasted you?” she asked.