Page 60 of Hades

I lifted my hands in surrender and walked back to my bike. Leaning against the seat, I stretched my legs out in front of me and crossed my arms over my chest.

And I waited.

Hours passed. Neither of us moved. The sun began to fade, and eventually, Cerberus lay on the ground, chin in the dirt, but his eyes stayed open. Watching. Waiting. Ready to tear me apart if I made one wrong move.

I scrolled through my phone, reading texts from Zeus and Atlas, both asking where I was and when I was coming home.

I didn’t give either of them an answer.

They knew where I’d gone when I left. Both had given me shit about what had quickly become an obsession after only one taste. That was all it took. One kiss, one look at her face as it transformed into euphoria when she came against my cock, and I was done. Ruined for anyone else. Branded by a woman I hadn’t even fucked yet.

I hadn’t even been inside her and I knew.

The God of the fucking Underworld brought down by his queen before he’d even claimed her. Before he’d felt her tight pussy clenching around his cock. Before he’d made her scream his name while he buried himself so deep she’d never get him out.

The squeak of the screen door caught my attention, but I didn’t look up. My attention stayed firmly on my phone as the corners of my mouth twitched into a grin I’d never let her see. Not yet. Not until she understood exactly what she’d done to me.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice cold and distant.

I leaned to the side, slid my phone into my back pocket, and crossed my arms over my chest. Then I looked at her.

She was so fucking beautiful standing on the porch, her arm wrapped around the post as if she needed something to hold her up. As if seeing me had knocked the breath from her lungs the same way just the thought of her had knocked it from mine.

I didn’t speak. Instead, I let my eyes roam over her perfect body, remembering the way she’d submitted to me shamelessly. The way she’d let me take control. Let me own her pleasure. Let me make her come so hard she’d forgotten her own name.

I remembered the way her lips felt against mine. Soft and sweet and hungry. The way her hand twisted in my shirt, pulling me closer. Demanding more. And the heat of her pussy as she ground against me, seeking release from the torment I’d put her body through. The wet heat soaking through her panties. The way she’d whimpered when I’d worked her clit with my cock still encased inside my jeans.

Fuck. My cock was already hard. Already aching. Already demanding I claim what was mine, and I hadn’t even seen her naked.

Cerberus had stood up, his eyes never leaving me. When I straightened from my bike and dropped my hands to walk toward her, he snarled again. Low and threatening. A promise of violence if I took one more step.

“You want to call him off?” I asked, letting the smile spread across my face. She shook her head, and I knew exactly what she was doing. She thought she was safe from me. Believed her dog would keep me from claiming what was mine. From taking what I needed.

She had no fucking idea.

“I know you’re pissed, baby. But club shit got in the way.”

She raised a brow at me, waiting for a better explanation. Only, she wouldn’t get one. I couldn’t tell her about Alex. About the email. About the clusterfuck waiting to explode. Couldn’t explain that I’d been so focused on keeping my brothers alive that I’d forgotten to take care of my queen.

I took a step forward and Cerberus’ ears flattened against his skull. His lips pulled back further, exposing more teeth. More threat.

“Baby, I don’t want to shoot your dog, but I will defend myself if I have to.”

It was bullshit, but she didn’t know that, especially judging by the way her eyes widened with fear. I’d never hurt Cerberus. The dog was protecting what was his. Doing his job. I respected that. Understood it. Would have done the same goddamn thing if someone threatened what was mine.

Then her eyes narrowed, and I saw it. Saw what had pulled me in from the start. Saw the darkness that swirled behind her gaze. The darkness that told me if I killed her dog, I’d join him moments later. That she had the means and the will to make me suffer before I died.

Fuck, she was perfect.

I cocked my head as I studied her. She was taller than most women, about five-seven, maybe five-eight. But she couldn’t have been more than a buck twenty soaking wet. Delicate bones and soft curves wrapped around a core of steel that would cut anyone who underestimated her.

She had a cockiness that told me she wasn’t afraid of me. Wasn’t intimidated by my size or my reputation or the violence I carried like a second skin. Her hand found the necklace at her throat as she considered what I’d said. A nervous habit, I noted. She gripped that thing like it anchored her to something solid.

“Go home, Brock.”

“I can’t do that, baby. I know I fucked up, but I didn’t have your number to let you know I wasn’t coming back.”

She snorted and turned away from me. Dismissing me like I was nothing. Like I didn’t matter. Like I hadn’t made her come so hard she’d nearly collapsed in my arms.