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“Spread your legs,” Kore tells her. His words are a soft command that does things to Hades' heightened senses. “This flower likes to study others,” he says. His smile teasing when he adds, “I want to know if you’re just as poisonous and as sharp as me.”
Hades opens her thighs, dropping her knees to the side as she parts herself to his gaze. Kore’s eyes remain that midnight shade, still dark with desire, and she wonders what color they turn when he’s consumed with lust. To test him, Hades squeezes—tightening her core and then relaxing. She grins when his lips part, ever so slightly as Kore watches her body flutter for him—like a flower blooming beneath his touch. Hades' petals, sweetened with poisonous honey. A treat Kore will crave endlessly once he has a taste. Though she is feared, Hades is addictive. An endless yearning comes over the bed partners she’s known, a consuming need to hold her and possess her once they’ve had a sample.
Come, my daffodil. Let me ruin you, too.
“By Chaos,” Kore whispers, still staring at the slick, pink skin between her thighs. “Those are the prettiest petals I’ve ever seen.” He keeps his voice even, as if Hades' cunt does not affect him. As if she’s truly just another flower in Demeter’s greenhouse.
Yet, she knows. Hades can see the tension in his shoulders and the tightness of his forearms. She wonders why he’s drawing it out, why Kore is punishing them both—until she remembers Rhea once said that drawing out pleasure makes it more intense. Hades never tested her mother’s ridiculous theory. She’s a busy goddess; Hades doesn’t have time for senseless explorations.
Kore settles back, comfortably holding his weight on the balls of his sock-covered feet. He’s too calm for a young god. She’s both annoyed and impressed by his control.
“A flower that pretty should grow on a vine,” Kore says. A devious grin steals across his pleasing, peachy lips. Nothing grows in the Underworld. There is not a plant that Demeter would make that could survive here, and before her, the Titans didn’t feel the need to put flora or fauna in shadow. Before them, the Primordials didn’t see the need either, and as a result, there has never been a true bloom of life in the Underworld.
Not until Kore.
From the floor, dark-purple vines spring to life. Curling around Hades with the same warmth of Kore’s hands. A startled gasp escapes her mouth, as the vines whisper over her legs and hold them firmly open. Other vines clasp her arms, tethering her to the hard ground while Kore watches with amusement dancing across his handsome face.
“How did you do that?” Hades asks, narrowing her eyes at him. Though she’s aroused, Hades' head isn’t clouded enough to ignore the fact Kore—a lesser god—created life in her realm.
“You’re spread wide for me, my queen. Do youreallywant to have this conversation now?” Kore challenges her with his tone and another of his charming grins.
A grin that grows wider as an errant vine slides against the soft skin between her thighs. She shudders, both from shock and arousal. Arousal intensifying when that skin-like vine strokes Hades open.
“Oh, how she blooms when petted,” Kore murmurs. He watches; his eyes are almost black now, the midnight blue shade eaten down to a tiny ring around his iris. “What else will open you up to me?”
The question feels loads, but reason flees Hades as more vines map her body. Tickling over her hips, up her sides, curving around Hades' breasts. When two small vines twist her nipples, Hades releases a moan.
“Harder.” She whispers, trembling in the hold of the vines while Kore watches her, from where he rests between her legs. He doesn’t comply, and she strains against her bonds. “Please.Harder.”
Kore’s smile is relaxed. Hades' focus locks on the vine curling inside of her; stroking her inner walls with the same light touch of a sweet lover. It’s as if Kore is all Hades feels—in her cunt, stimulating her clit, teasing her nipples, and mapping the unexplored bends and dips of her skin. Like the sensitive spots at the back of her knee and behind Hades' ear. He learns her without touching Hades with his hands; Kore maps her through creations. Hades fights the sensations, wondering if she can keep her mind, but pleasure steals her senses. Hades shudders as Kore presses closer to her, his wild scent filling her lungs while living ropes overstimulate her body.
“Please,” she whimpers, begging for something she can’t name. He’severywherebut somehow it’s not enough; Hades teeters on the edge of orgasm. Teased closer by the damned vines until they sense she isthere.Changing tactics to keep her release at bay. “Damnit, Kore,” she groans. Hades' lips catch over his smooth jaw as he presses even closer into her space.
“What do you want, my queen?” His voice pitched low, dark with his own desires. Lust she can feel through the magic of his creations.
What does she want? Hades is so drunk on desire, she’s not sure. She wants him everywhere and nowhere at once.
“Kiss me,” she whispers, as shocked as he is by her words. Hades is so close to Kore that she can see herself reflected in his gaze. Close enough that she can see he wasn’t expecting her to want the intimacy of a kiss. She always kisses her lovers—Hades never understood her brothers for avoiding such things. Maybe men get hit by love faster when they kiss, but she’s never felt that spark. Nothing makes her love someone she doesn’t want to love.
There’s a jolt now, like a tiny bolt of lightning striking between their skin. That’s what pushes Hades to release, the feel of Kore’s tongue learning her as his vines bring her over the edge.
“Like that,” he whispers against her cheek. His lips ghosting her skin as he speaks, “Show me how a queen falls apart with pleasure.”
Hades does. Her head falls back as the vines hold her steady—fucking her with intention. Kore’s magic wrings more from Hades' body than she’s used to giving. She comes again with bewildering force; Hades can feel the wetness seeping into the cotton of her discarded dress.
She lifts her head—a trying task—and watches Kore between lazy blinks. His dark gaze remains on the evidence of her pleasure. She’s too exhausted to wonder what he thinks about the mess she made. Even if she wasn’t tired, Hades doesn’t need to wonder. Kore reveals his pleasure as he rubs his fingers against her dripping, sensitive skin. She stares in disbelief as Kore brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking her taste from them with the same relish of a god feasting on Ambrosia wine.
Fuck, that’s hot.Her final thought before she passes out.
The vines keep her from falling against the hard floor, and as she falls into the darkness of sleep she hears Kore calling out to her.
“Oh, my queen,” whispers through her dreams. “Next time, I’m going to spend hours training your body.”
Hades dreams of vines on her skin, a warm man at her back, and gardening-rough fingers feeding her tiny, ruby-colored pomegranate seeds. In her dream, she hears Kore, his voice whispering, “Stay with me, my queen. Love me, please, no matter what.”
If she believed in harbingers of doom, Hades would worry when she wakes. However, Hades gave up on such prophecies long ago. She did away with them when all beings in the cosmos declared she was the worst omen of all.
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