Persephone’s first thought had been wrong. Hades wasn’t completely nude. She was wearing that awful thing again, the degenerate thing Persephone could not bear to name, this time strapped to her thigh instead of being worn like an undergarment. It pressed against Persephone’s hip, cold and dead, and she shrieked.

“No need to be frightened,” Hades murmured. She shifted so her back was against the bed head and pulled Persephone on top of her, facing her. She reached around and loosened the tie that held Persephone’s braid, then ran her fingers through her hair.

In the dark, her hands were warm and gentle, but Persephone couldn’t forget how they had felt before—hard and merciless. “I want to go—” Persephone began.

Hades pressed her fingers against Persephone’s lips. “No more of that tonight.” She reached down between Persephone’s legs, making her flinch. “Did you enjoy being over my knee?” Hades asked.

“No!”

“Liar.”

Hades grabbed her by the hips, lifted her up and placed her back down, impaling Persephone on her phallus.

Persephone whimpered and bit back a curse. She had cried so much already that night, but new tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Shh. You can accept this.”

No, she couldn’t. She would never stop fighting, never stop seeking her freedom.

“Shh, Persephone. Do not cry, dearest.” Hades kissed her cheeks, twice on each side. Her fingers traced down Persephone’s spine, her hand resting on the small of Persephone’s back to keep her in place.

This was still new, this sensation of being split open, of her inner walls stretching to accommodate a foreign invader. Persephone froze, her mouth open in a silent cry, and then Hades moved, and the phallus moved with her.

Persephone gasped, placing her palms on Hades’ chest to brace herself. She clamped her eyes shut, pressing her lips together. She wouldn’t make another sound. She wouldn’t give her the satisfaction—

“Move with me,” Hades said, her voice husky with desire.

The air seemed to leave the room, for she couldn’t breathe, much less move. There had to be a magic key, some secret incantation she could say to unlock Hades’ heart and make her stop, but whatever it was, Persephone lacked the wiles to know.

Hades flexed her thigh impatiently, and Persephone whimpered.

The sooner she did as Hades requested, the sooner this would be over.

Locking her arms around Hades’ neck for balance, she moved, only a little at first, rising up from her knees and settling back down again. She heard Hades sigh in the darkness.

“Here,” Hades said. She took one of Persephone’s hands and guided it in between her splayed legs.

Persephone knew the mechanics of how this worked by now, but she had never touched anyone like this before. Hades was wet and warm; so very warm. And when Persephone’s fingertips slid over her clit, Hades groaned, the sound filled with need.