“You liked my finger in your ass earlier.”
“I didn’t.”
“You came.” I can hear his grin.
He pushes in and I whimper, tensing every muscle and I don’t move, don’t breathe. I can’t.
“Your asshole is even tighter than your cunt.”
I can’t speak. My hands are flat on the desk and I’m staring at the wall. I can feel the evidence of my arousal streak down my inner thigh as he pushes his finger in and out and in and out.
“Mmmm.” It’s that rattle again and then something warm and wet is on me, on my thigh. I look back to find it’s his tongue. He’s licking that smear of moisture up to its source.
“Please.” Please what? What am I asking for? Begging for?
He’s moved his hand from my lower back, but he doesn’t need to keep me pinned, not when he’s hooked his finger in my ass. I crane my neck to look at him, find him watching me. I see him drop his sweats.
I draw a sharp breath in and close my eyes when he begins his slow stretch of my pussy, his thick cock sliding into the wet passage, pushing through any resistance and when he slides his other hand between my legs and takes my clit between two fingers, I come.
It’s pathetic. He hasn’t even begun to fuck me yet, not like I know he will. I’m coming and I can’t hide the fact. I know he feels me as my walls squeeze around both his finger and his cock. When he begins to move, when he begins to fuck me, really fuck me, he’s rough and hard and I come again.
His breath is ragged, and I open my eyes and turn to watch him. He’s looking down at himself as he fucks me and seeing him like this, it sends me into another abyss of pleasure, one more orgasm when I think I can’t take anymore.
When my knees buckle, he holds me up, thickening inside me as he thrusts one final time and I watch him come. Watch him fill me up and all I can manage is an exhale. His name on my breath.
“Hades.”
It’s so soft I don’t even think he hears it and I know as I take his seed that I am finished. That I was always ever finished with him.
Hades.
He was my savior once.
Twice.
Now he’s become my tormentor.
And I don’t ever want him to let me go.
13
Persephone
I wake to someone humming softly.
Blinking against the bright light, I open my eyes and see a woman I don’t recognize opening the curtains.
I rub my eyes, opening them again, but she’s still right there.
She turns to me as I sit up, being reminded instantly of how my night ended. Well, how my morning began.
I tug the blanket up as I realize I’m naked.
“Good morning, Miss,” the woman says.
“Who are you?” I ask, looking on the other side of the bed, finding it empty. The only evidence that Hayden slept here the dent in the pillow.
“My name is Anna. Mr. Montgomery sent me.” As she says this, she pours coffee from a silver carafe and brings it to me.
“I’m sorry, who sent you?” I ask, taking the coffee as there’s nowhere for her to put it since the majority of my furniture is gone.
“I work for Mr. Montgomery. Would you like breakfast brought up or will you dine downstairs?”
“What?” I give a shake of my head, blink but find her still standing here and the coffee in my hands still steaming.
“Breakfast—”
“No, that’s not…I’m sorry, but what are you doing here?” We let our staff go weeks ago.
“Oh, anything you need.” She checks her watch. “You are expected at Mr. Montgomery’s office soon. He chose some clothes for you.”
“Pardon?” He chose clothes for me? I look at the dress hanging on the closet door, the matching pumps. “Unbelievable.”
“The car will be here in an hour,” she says, checking her watch.
“What time is it?” I turn to pick up my phone but almost spill the coffee as I reach for it on the floor.
“Quarter past ten in the morning.”
“That late.” I push the blanket off to get up but remember my state of undress and stop.
She politely busies herself picking up my discarded clothes. I grab Hayden’s shirt which is still on the foot of the bed, putting it on. I smell him on it and hate that I’m inclined to inhale deeply.
“Listen, Anna.” She turns to me. “I don’t know why Hayden—Mr. Montgomery—sent you, but I don’t need a housekeeper.” Lie. I can’t exactly manage this house on my own. “I appreciate your help, but you can tell him I don’t need you.”
“I’m sure you two can discuss it when you see him this morning. Shall I bring breakfast up? Cook has prepared something warm.”
“Cook?”
She nods.
I just stare at her as she picks up the coffee tray. “No. Thank you.”
“I’ll be downstairs then.”
There’s a cook too?
When Anna leaves, I walk into the bathroom and switch on the shower, looking at my reflection in the mirror as the water warms up. The bags under my eyes seem to have lessened. I guess the seven hours of sleep I must have gotten after that session in the study did the trick. I can’t remember the last time I slept so well and so long.
And I can’t remember how I got to bed.
I shake my head, tell myself that I hate Hayden, and step into the shower. I shampoo and condition, being gentle as I wash between my legs. I’m tender and it’s no surprise. The man is a giant.
When I’m finished, I wrap a towel around my hair and one around my person. I roll my eyes remembering the language of the contract. I bypass the dress and pumps and opt for a pair of jeans, an oversized sweater, and a pair of boots that won’t have me breaking my neck as I trudge around town in the snow.
I pull my wet hair into a bun at the top of my head, drop my phone into my purse and walk out of the bedroom, rifling through my bag for the keys to my Jeep as I go.
Anna is still humming when I get downstairs, but I don’t stop to tell her I’m leaving. Instead, I grab my coat and walk out the door well ahead of the car Hayden is apparently sending for me.
The driveway’s been plowed and I’m guessing I have Hayden to thank for that. The Jeep handles snow well so a few minutes later, I’m on my way to the club.
I dial Lizzie, but the phone goes directly to voice mail. I leave her a message anyway. I ask when she’ll be home, also telling her not to be surprised by our new maid and cook because I have a feeling they’re not going to up and leave on my word. Hayden’s people only jump on his command.
With the roads as they are, it takes me twenty minutes longer than yesterday to get to the club. When I walk in, I see Peter.
He looks as thrilled to see me as I am to see him. He opens his mouth and I just hold up a hand.
“If you’ll just let him know I’m here,” I say, heading him off, even taking off my coat and handing it to him.
He smiles, looking relieved, and gestures for me to take a seat on the cognac colored Chesterfield. The fire crackles in the fireplace and the smell of the cinnamon rolls a waiter carries into the dining room makes my stomach rumble.