I asked him for it.
For the blood, for the rust,
for the sin.
I didn’t want the pearls other girls talked about,
or the fine marble of palaces,
or even the roses in the mouth of servants.
I wanted pomegranates—
I wanted darkness,
I wanted him.
Image by Enrique Meseguer from Pixabay
When Persephone woke, it felt as if she’d slept for days. As she stumbled from bed, she tried to determine how much time had passed.
Time meant nothing in Des’s world. Except for the ghosts, he lived alone. He was alone until her. Until now.
Persephone smiled as her eyes fell on the steam curling from the tub near the fire. The moment her toe touched the water, her ghostly attendants entered, assisting her with bathing.
The dullness of sleep ceded and Persephone glanced around. “Where’s Des?” she asked, not expecting an answer from them, but him to appear as if summoned by her request.
“Hades awaits you,” the whispered answer echoed. Did she hear them, or was it only in her mind?
“He’s waiting? Where?” She stood, splashing water over the sides.
“Chamber,” echoed twice.
The third voice dissented. “With the dead.”
Persephone swallowed, then sighed as a black robe dropped around her shoulders. She could dry before the fire. If there was a chair.
A hand urged her forward to a soft chair close enough to feel the heat of the fire. The water drops on her skin sizzled as she sat staring into the dancing flames, recounting her journey so far.
She must remember to have Des send a message to her mother. Demeter may be worried about Persephone’s absence. She missed mother, despite longing for freedom.
At least, she should have not been impulsive when Des asked her to become his Queen in name. And body. If not her soul.
Persephone stood resolutely and found the perfect dress for her first day as queen. The bottom hem hugged her upper thighs, just covering her curves. Her long legs, always hidden by modest skirts, were not free. Black fabric hugged her body to her chest. And the top wrapped around her shoulders. Down her arms, the skin peeked through tiny crosses of ribbon, matching the open back.
She lined her eyes in dark coal and covered the lids in smoke. Lips painted red, she stared in the mirror as one attendant braided her long, blonde hair. She placed the black crown studded with black jewels: obsidian, diamonds, pearls, and tourmaline.
Staring back at her was Hades’s Queen of the Underworld. The sheltered maiden no longer existed.
“Take me to Des. Hades.” She turned. “Bring me a cape.”
A long, black shawl fasted around her shoulders. Persephone marched toward Des.
She found him on his throne, passing judgement of souls. Shaking the temptation to watch him, she took her seat beside him.
Des paused and took her hand. “You look beautiful. Ready to greet your subjects?”
She looked into the black onyx of his eyes., stirring desire between her legs. “Yes, sir.”
He pulled her from the chair and claimed her lips with a deep kiss until she forgot everything. With only his mouth, he made her tremble. He could have her on the floor, but he led her down a long hallway. Tall doors carved with dark scenes opened to a large room. Empty candlelight danced on the stone walls.
Souls rushed around her, cold brushing her skin. “Meet your queen,” Des boomed, filling the room.
More Souls came closer. Touching her, pulling at her. Icy fingers caressed her, squeezed her, pinched her covered and exposed flesh. Icy fingers groped her chest, legs, thighs.
Under her skirt.
She gasped, stumbling back. Their ethereal bodies shuddered and exploded as she broke through them. Only to coalesce when she turned to examine the destruction.
Another frozen hand slipped between her legs, making her squeal and gasp, freezing in the spot for a moment.
A squeeze of her breast broke the spell. She stumbled away from them toward Des, watching the scene.
“They want your warmth. Your life. Your desire.” His voice echoed in the crevices of the grey stone. She watched the shadows on the wall, only two — her and Des.
“You’re well on your transformation. Lost your innocence now.”
Persephone bowed her head, nodding. “Some of it.” She shifted, rubbing her legs together. The greedy, icy hands touching her aroused her.
Des stood behind her, his solid warm body pressed to her back. He cupped her breasts, squeezing tight.
She leaned her head against his shoulder. He pulled her dress around her waist, one hand scratching up her inner thigh. “Use my hand to touch yourself.”
Covering his hand with hers, she moved him over her intimate center, cupping the warm flesh. With his first two fingers, she dragged it between the soft folds, wetting the tip, then over the sensitive nub on top.
“So wet,” he groaned, kissing her neck.
She shivered, thinking of the icy fingers touching her earlier.
“They touched you and you liked it.”
“A little.” She squeezed her eyes shut, moving his fingers in a circle around her clit, seeking the sensation that made her legs flutter. Her movements became more erratic as the sensation eluded her.
“No, no. Let me.” He pushed her hand aside to give him room to caress her in smooth circles around the tip.
Persephone sighed, relaxing her head on his shoulder while he took care of her desires. Pushing her higher, Des moved faster. Round and round. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body clenched, swaying, reaching for relief.
“Yes, little Queen. Soon.” Des lifted her into his arms, carrying her from the chamber of whispers back to their private space.
He stripped her before depositing her on the bed, setting her crown on the table near the bed beside a platter of fruits and cheeses. Once he was disrobed, he joined her, kissing her neck and breasts. Finding her lips, he pulled her over him, her long legs straddling his hips.
“Fuck me,” he rasped, laying back on the pillows.
She shook her head. “I don’t know how.”
“I’ll guide you.” He gripped her hair, stretching her up then down onto his lengths. His hips jerked, pushing the last inch into her so she was fully inside. “You know the rest.”
Persephone looked down at her husband, lover and King. A god with infinite power who now surrendered his pleasure to her. If she moved with the confidence of a queen, she would take them both to bliss.
Tentative hip rolls first, then bolder, faster thrusts when Des smiled and moaned.
Faster. Harder. Deeper. More. Her heart thundered in her chest as an orgasm roared through her.
More.
He grabbed her hips, driving into her as her inner walls squeezed him. Des groaned, jerking into her.
Persephone watched with hazy eyes as ecstasy flooded him under her motions. As the heated blood cooled, she collapsed on him, resting on the thump of his heart.
Love beat against her cheek, tightening her chest once more. The people worshipped the Gods. And he worshipped her.
“I love you,” she whispered.
They lay together for a long time. Des pulled the plate of food closer, tempting her despite her heavy eyelids. She looked at the plate of delicacies. Her hand reached out and plucked a pomegranate seed from the red pulp. She sucked the juices from her fingers, then the seed slipped down her throat and she reached for more, but the heaviness dragged her down.
Des bit into the pink flesh of a peach while she lay on the pillows. She wanted to taste everything, but the heaviness won. She closed her eyes, letting the darkness consume her again.