Persephone's bath
Des’s bedchamber rivalled that of the Gods on Olympus, Persephone was sure. Demeter preferred their small cottage. Even she could have had any palace she wanted.
Everything was decorated in dark gray. Masculine and hard. The bed frame and four posters were black wood, glowed in the firelight. The sheets were black silk. And he laid her down on the softness, her golden hair and white dress in stark contrast to the surroundings.
“You are so beautiful.” He picked a stalk of grass from her hair. “A bath, before we move forward.”
The door opened and several small fae came in, carrying buckets of steaming water. They filled a tub in the corner, then disappeared. Des stripped off her dress and picked her up. He kissed her hair, as he crossed the room to lower her into the hot water.
While she soaked, he brushed her hair and washed her gently. He gave special attention to her breasts, teasing the sensitive centers until she evaporated like the water curling into steam around her.
His long fingers slithered down her body, seeking refuge from the cool air of the chamber. Seeking her warm, willing cavern, a secret palace where desire reigned.
Des didn’t seek entrance with his dark rituals. He played with the bud where her arousal sprung from. His mouth was against her ear, whispering passionate vows as he twisted lust until Persephone wept in his arms.
“Please,” she mewled, stretching for completion.
“Do it yourself,” he hissed, his tongue flickering on her cheek. So hard it seemed as if the tip had two barbed points.
“How.”
“Rub against me, Princess. I’ll claim you as my Queen soon. Would you like that?”
“Des.” She was mindless in her frenzy for release so she wrapped her arms around his neck and allowed her body to take over. Her legs wrapped around his forearm and her body rocked herself against his hand. The base gesture splashed water over the edges of the tub, while the arousal overflowed through her body.
Faster. Harder. More. She squeezed Des harder, the release she sought tightened in her belly. If she pushed harder, she would erupt. Like a seed emerging from the dark soil, she would be new life as Queen.
The moment shimmered in the firelight. And Persephone burst, wailing like a harpy. Her trembling body fell apart, only held together by his touch.
Des’s soothing hands settled her, pulled her from the water into the cold bed chamber. The strength of her peak had blown out the fire and he placed her heated boys on the bed to cool and dry.
He renewed the fire with a few sticks before returning to her. Des sat beside her on the bed, stroking her pale, damp skin.
“They all think you are so innocent. Your mother would keep me so. But you seduced me. You begged me to defile you.”
“I want to be Queen.” His eyes flashed, and she pulled back. “Your Queen, Des.”
He smiled, flattering her and drawing her to his charm. “You will be. The Ceremony before all the souls, then a private one. Here.” His hand cupped between her legs, sending a shiver up her spine and creeping over her head.
Des left her with a kiss.