Hekades: Checkmate, Part II

“The best thing about the queen, Hades, is she can move however she wants. Forward…back…” I roll my hips to the rhythm of my words, smiling when his arms tighten as he wills them still. “Sideways, up or down…”

Content Warning: Sexual Content

 

Hades…

His fingers sink deep into the backs of my thighs, his hips driving me against the door. I cannot breathe between the pressure of his body against mine and the look in his eyes. The fire inside him is raging, consuming all the air in the room. I realize that I can no longer tell if he is in control. The thought chills the blood in my veins, then sets it on fire. 

His right hand captures my jaw, the pressure of his fingertips forcing my mouth open. His teeth grazing my lips, Hades holds me there, feeding off my frustration. He slides his other hand up my side, stroking my breast through the thin fabric of my dress, continuing to tease me with kisses he won’t let me return. 

It’s punishment, sweet and severe, for making him wait. And it makes me angry. I’ve waited forty-thousand years, awake and aware of every excruciating moment spent wanting him. He has only had to bear it for an hour. I can taste the rage infusing my hunger. I struggle in his arms, unsure who or what I am fighting. A dark smile touches his lips as he meets my resistance, his arms tightening around me. 

With a savage grace, Hades slips his hands under the curve of my ass and sweeps me across the room towards the bed, seating himself on the edge, settling me astride his lap. A deep rumble escapes him as he slides his hands up my back and curls his fingers around the neckline of my dress. He gathers the fabric in his fists, pulling it tight across my throat. Like lightning before thunder, I see the violence flash in his eyes before the words leave his lips.

“You will not be needing this.” 

He tears my dress from me like it was nothing, stripping me down, tossing the remnants aside. I tell myself it is the cool of the room that sends a shudder through me, but my body calls me out, twisting my belly with desire. Hades hums with pleasure as his eyes, then his hands slide over my body, exploring my curves, tracing the lines where pale skin meets black lace. I hold my breath, wondering, hoping my lingerie meets the same fate as my dress. 

Sweeping one long arm beneath my hips, he lowers his head to my breast. His breath is warm against my skin through the lace. He brushes his lips back and forth over my nipple, teasing it to hardness. Whimpering in desperation, I grind myself against him, lost to every nip of his teeth, every stroke of his tongue, the rough slide of lace against my skin. 

Hades lifts his head, seeking my eyes. Hands curling over my shoulders, he pulls my body down roughly against his. His hips move against mine, rocking me back and forth, an echo of the rhythm that will undo me later. The feel of him, hard between my thighs, draws a primal sound from my throat. 

I can feel my desire inside me, pacing, like a wild thing. It’s the same desire he woke that night in the garden. Trapped by duty. Caged by a secret. Left to die. But Hades has been rattling its cage for weeks. And it’s grown strong on the scraps he’s fed it, sharpening its teeth on the bones he’s thrown. Evolving into need.

“This… you belong here,” Hades whispers against my mouth. His tongue flicks over my lips,  baiting the thing he has freed. Lacing my fingers behind his neck, I kiss him hard, devouring him like I’m starving, relishing the groan his mouth offers up to mine.

I break the kiss, gasping first for air, then in shock as he tangles his hands in my hair, slowly winding the length around his fist. He wrenches my head back, his laugh low and dark at the sound of pure longing that escapes me. His lips are a brand on the underside of my chin, searing a path down the taut line of my throat. The lower his mouth moves, the harder he pulls on my hair, arching me away from him. 

Hades trails his hand up the center of my body, his fingers slipping under the clasp of my bra to unhook it. With agonizing slowness, he pushes the lace aside, working it down my arms and casting it to the floor. I’m trembling with anticipation and at his pleasure, waiting for him to give me mine. I cry out at the sudden, hot lash of his tongue on my nipples, then gasp when the cold brings them to aching peaks…like fire, then ice, then nothing again. I can’t see him, not bent back like this, but I know he is looking, admiring. 

And then his mouth is all over me, moving from one breast to the other, biting, sucking, flicking my nipples with his tongue. His hand in my hair is unyielding, his mouth relentless. His other hand slips between my thighs, his fingertips barely sliding beneath the lacy edge of the thong he has yet to strip from me. With slow, circling strokes, Hades teases me through the thin layer of fabric, touching me, not touching me. I thrust my hips toward him with a wordless cry, straining for the release he is promising and denying me all at once. 

“Mmm…am I keeping you from something, Hekate?” 

His low chuckle vibrates against my chest. He’s making me wait. Again. It’s delicious madness, and yet, still madness. The spark of my anger leaps to life again, too hot this time to be drowned out by desire, but not strong enough to tell him to stop. Because I don’t want him to stop.

I just want him to pay.

Hades tortures me a few more moments, then releases me, easing his hands up my back to help me straighten. I am light-headed from being inverted, from being teased until I can barely breathe. The irony is not lost on me – he has had me upside-down and breathless for weeks. But it’s the smirk on his face that undoes me. My fingers glide up his neck, twining into his thick hair. The tinge of orange in his eyes is still there, reminding me… 

I am not mortal, Witch Queen.

He spoke those words to me, a reminder to me of who and what he was. That day, I was standing on the edge, but I am well beyond that now. With a wicked smile, I clench my hands, taking fistfuls of his hair. Leveraging strength that would shatter a mortal lover, I tighten my grip. His eyes tighten as I force his head to the side and hold him still. The pressure of his hands on my hips increases, a warning that his strength remains untried. 

“You’re the one drawing out the game, Hades,” I hiss in his ear, grinding my hips against him. “Then again, after forty-thousand years, what’s a few more minutes, hmm?”

My teeth find his neck. Attempting to pacify my frustration, I bite him… hard. The sound he makes is satisfying. I explore the lines of his shoulder with my tongue, the sweet salt of him easing the craving that’s been building for weeks. His hands curl around my ass, his long fingers stroking my inner thighs. I feel my control starting to slip and counter it by pushing him backwards onto the bed and pressing his arms up over his head, holding him there. 

My hair spills to either side of his face as I stare down into his eyes. Fuck, I want him. By all the gods not us, I want him inside me. But not yet.  “I hate to inform you, King, but the Queen isn’t going down without a fight. It’s my move. Keep your hands where they are.”

Hades visibly swallows hard, then a wicked smile slides over his face as he nods a wordless promise. I walk my hands down his arms, his chest, his torso, pushing against his ribs to leverage all the power into my hips. I move my body, working a tortuous rhythm against his. A low rumble sounds in his throat, his eyes closing involuntarily from pleasure. His hands clench, unclench, but there’s nothing to hold on to but his word. And that suits me fine.

“The best thing about the queen, Hades, is she can move however she wants. Forward…back…” I roll my hips to the rhythm of my words, smiling when his arms tighten as he wills them still. “Sideways, up or down…”

His jaw clenches as I writhe against him, moving the way queens move – however the fuck I want. The rhythm I’m dancing to now is the flicker of heat in his eyes, as I test his resolve. I grind myself against him, drenching him in the heat between my thighs. 

“Queens can move as much or as little as they like.” Leaning forward, I undulate against him, brushing my bare breasts against his chest, watching his face. He flashes me a warning look that I ignore. “Shall I move more, Hades?”

I don’t wait for him to answer, because I don’t care what he wants. What I want is to see that precious control of his up in flames. I curl my fingertips around the waist of his trousers, slipping my fingers against the taut flesh of his torso. His voice is rough-edged with hunger, his eyes burning through me as I circle my hips. I toss my hair back over my shoulders, letting him see me. The sway of my breasts as I move, the way I touch myself, knowing it will burn him down faster. 

There is nothing teasing in the way my hands unfasten his trousers or work them off his hips. His clothing is in my way, a very bad place to be. Sliding off his lap, I make short work of the rest, kicking his trousers and briefs aside. I can feel him watching me as I stand over him, my eyes devouring every naked inch of him, taking my time, readying my vengeance.

I place my hands on his knees, feeling my way up his legs, my thumbs kneading a path up his inner thighs. I lean over him, sweeping my hair back and forth over his skin. He shivers, straining for a touch heavier than silk. Placing a kiss on the angular jut of his hip bone, I work my way across his abdomen, tracing the omega tattooed there with my tongue before moving lower. Anticipating what I’m about to do, a low groan stirs deep inside him, followed by his sharp intake of breath.

Skía!”

It takes four strokes of my tongue, and Hades has broken his promise. His hand is in my hair, my name is on his lips, his body is at my mercy. I am drunk on the power I’m wielding, the taste and feel of him. His hand tightens in my hair, trembling, letting go, tightening again. He groans as I rake my nails down his sides, a shock of pain to go with the pleasure. I can feel his control fraying. It does nothing but make me want to push him farther. He took his time, had his fill. I will have mine. 

When I decide I have, I slow my pace, stop, release him. As I straighten, I feel him move. The infernal glow is back in his eyes, his breathing ragged, the fire I fed now raging. I slowly back away from him, smiling.

“Queens…were made…to bring down Kings. Your move.” 

Hades drinks in my words as he sits up, shifting to the end of the bed. He stands slowly, drawing himself up to his full height. His desire is evident, and there is a strange ease in his movements that sends a tangled rush of fear and desire through my body. His eyes never leave mine as he circles me, driving me like prey towards his bed. The only thing left of the well-composed, polished King is the predatorial slant of his smile. 

“Oh, Skía,” he murmurs, “we are well beyond games and innuendo now, my dear.”

I force myself to stand still, watching him prowl around me. This hunt is over. It was over the moment I walked through the door, and I know it. Breathless and shaking, I summon the words my body needs me to say. 

You were the one that said we were finishing our game. So finish it. Takethe goddamnedQueen.”

Hades closes the distance between us, and his mouth is on mine, deliciously bruising. He pulls away, hooking his thumbs in the thin straps of the lace thong circling my hips. Eyes boring into mine, he hisses, “So be it.”

The lace rends in his hands. The seam burns a line across the inside of my thigh as he rips it off my body and flings it aside. His mouth ravages mine, dismissive of my surrender, determined to raze my senses to the ground. His hands wrap around my hips, pushing me backward onto the bed, following, cutting off any hope of retreat.

The weight of Hades’ body on mine is exquisite. Tens of thousands of years apart, and there is nothing between us anymore, just his skin against mine. No more secrets. My body is an open book beneath his hands. No more games, black and white blurring into the exact shade of his eyes. 

His arm slips beneath the hollow of my back as he lifts me, tilting my hips up to his. Suddenly, all the buried emotions, all the unanswered lust, everything I have denied all these years surges to the surface. I wrap a leg around him, arching towards him as he leans over me, his eyes darkening. I’m done waiting. If he doesn’t do it, I will

I don’t have to.

His hand slips up to cradle the back of my head, his fingers twining in my hair, making sure I’m looking at him as he claims my body. 

The moment he begins to move, a wave of pleasure washes over me, and I can no longer hold his gaze. His mouth finds mine again, his kiss matching the pace set by his body. I can’t escape the ebb and flow of his tongue as he swallows every sound I make. He crashes into me again and again, obliterating the last of my walls, rolling through me like a tide – powerful, rhythmic, unrelenting.

Hades pulls back slightly, his voice thunderous and soft. “Look at me, Skía.”

This time, I’m not closing my eyes.

I open my eyes and fall into his. My hands cling to his shoulders as his body rages against mine, intensity increasing. I cry out his name as the last of my control goes under, tossed by the storm of him. I can’t breathe. My body is heavy, every nerve alive, unable to resist the ruthless press of him against my chest, wanting all of me. 

This is what it feels like to drown, I think. I stare up at him, lingering for eternity on the edge before my body cannot take anymore. Lips parting, I gasp for air and find only him pouring into me. I quake uncontrollably beneath him, torrents of pleasure coursing through me as his body surges against mine. I can feel him cresting, see it in his eyes. With a deep groan, he comes crashing down, taking me under with him one last time.

Hades lowers his body to mine, gathering me up, rolling me over alongside him. I am strewn across him; my hair and my limbs are beautiful wreckage on the shore of his body. No words pass between us for a long time, just the sound of us catching our breath, slipping into the calm after the storm.

He’s the one that breaks the silence. A throaty hum emanates from his chest as he wraps an arm around my waist. He tilts my face up to his, kissing me softly, first the corners of my mouth, then fully.
Now…you are mine,” he breathes against my lips. “And this time, I am not letting you go.”

Hear From Our Scribes

Subscribe To In The Pantheon

%d bloggers like this: