Debauched (Hades and Persephone Book 3) Read online

Page 18


  He pressed a kiss on my neck. “Didn’t you spend nights pleasuring yourself, subconsciously yearning for the day I would walk into your life and fulfill your needs?”

  I squeezed my eyes shut, letting the muscles of my core adjust around his girth. They fluttered and spasmed and squeezed with an intensity that built and built, pushing me toward a dangerous precipice.

  “That would make sense.” My voice raised an octave, becoming breathy with a surge of pleasure. “It would explain why only the anti-heroes got me hot.”

  Hades tightened his hands on my hips. “You look an absolute delight, trembling around my cock.”

  I swallowed over and over as every nerve surrounding my core sang a chorus of appreciation for Hades’ impressive endowments. Was this what it felt like to have the body of a goddess? Sex with him was twice as pleasurable as it had been with the vessel.

  “Why does this feel so intense?” I moaned.

  “Because you’re finally home.”

  The line of kisses he peppered across my jaw felt like heaven, and he massaged my breasts, his fingers rolling my thicker nipples. Molten ecstasy melted through my insides, making me hotter, wetter, slicker than ever.

  I slid down another inch and moaned. As I fully sheathed his erection, my clit ground against him, making sparks explode behind my eyelids.

  “Now, I’ve had your virginity three times,” he murmured into my ear. “How many husbands could be so lucky?”

  “Who was your first?” I asked.

  Hades drew back and stared at me with a confused frown. “Before Persephone, I thought love was for the poets and sex for the beasts. My life was an endless devotion to the dead, until I met her.”

  “And now?” I murmured.

  “You, my darling Kora, have ended two thousand and twenty-one years of pain.”

  We made love staring into each other’s souls, as though this was the first time and we were committing it to memory. Hades kneaded my breasts as I raised myself up and down his thick shaft.

  Pleasure rippled through my core, radiating up to my belly and down my inner thighs. I bit down on my bottom lip, my core clamping around his girth.

  I cried out as he rolled my nipples between his thick fingers. “You’re so beautifully tight.”

  “And you’re so bloody big.”

  “Any complaints?” He flashed me a grin.

  “None whatsoever.” I placed my hands on his muscular chest, leaned toward his mouth, and met his lips in a kiss.

  Hades held my hips and pumped into me with a deliciously slow rhythm that seemed to last forever.

  Just as our lovemaking reached a crescendo, his eyes widened, and blood poured from his lips.

  “Hades?” I grabbed his shoulders.

  He coughed out another mouthful of blood. “Don’t stop.”

  “This is killing you.” I scrambled off his erection, making him groan.

  “I’m…” he said through wheezing breaths. “Immortal. Get back on my cock before the healer arrives.”

  My eyes bulged. “You called her?”

  “She’s monitoring my vital signs.” He pushed himself up on his elbows and stared at me through hooded eyes. “Hurry.”

  I grabbed a sheet and wrapped it around my body and threw another one over Hades’ huge erection in time for the Healer Iaso to hurry into the room.

  Chapter Twelve

  I paused at the doorway that led to the airlock, casting Hades one last wistful glance over my shoulder. He sat up, still coughing blood, with Healer Iaso placing both hands on his back. Guilt clutched at my heart with both fists, pulling me to despair. I wasn’t helping Hades by frolicking around with him across the Fifth Faction or by indulging him with strenuous sex.

  It was time to focus on honing my plant magic and producing the full-strength panacea. With a pained sigh, I stepped out into the void and headed back toward the palace.

  I teleported to a clearing in the greenhouse, where the existing panacea plants grew in a circular configuration. The dryads had planted them in sandy soil at three-feet intervals, allowing for future growth. It was easy to tell them apart. The aloe-panacea, which the dyads had grown themselves by planting panacea seeds, were a paler green than the one I had germinated, which towered over their plants.

  A small hand slipped into mine, and I glanced down to find the mahogany-skinned dryad gazing up at me with a broad smile. The autumn leaves in her hair seemed a little more abundant than they had been last time we’d met. Perhaps the healer had been helping them get over the fire Mother had started when she’d possessed this body.

  “Hello,” I said to her. “Where’s your little friend?”

  She tugged my arm, flicking her head toward a row of dwarf apple trees that lined a path leading to another clearing.

  “You want me to come with you?” I asked.

  She gave me a firm nod, turned around, and broke into a run. I followed after her at a brisk walk, hoping the smaller dryad was all right. We passed four-and-a-half-foot-tall trees laden with red fruit that filled my nostrils with the scent of ripe apples. My mouth watered, and I plucked one from the tree as we passed.

  The clearing she took me to was a circular space about twenty feet in width. Six other paths led out from it, each lined with food-producing plants.

  I turned to the dryad and frowned. “Why have you brought me here?”

  After releasing my hand, she jogged to the middle of the circle and dropped to her knees. I tilted my head to the side, wondering what she was doing, but when she dug through the earth with her hands, I walked to her side.

  A tuft of lemon grass emerged from the soil, followed by a sleepy little face.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Do you two sleep in the ground all the time?”

  The larger dryad nodded.

  “Oh.” Still kneeling, I brushed off a bit of dirt from the smaller dryad’s green hair as she climbed out from her hole in the ground. “Good morning. I came here to practice my plant magic. Can you two help me?”

  They stood side-by-side, staring at me through wide eyes. Neither of them spoke, which was peculiar because I knew they were capable of forming words, but I sat back on my heels and gave them time to consider my request.

  The smaller dryad turned to her friend and smirked. Her companion returned the expression, her brown eyes twinking with mischief.

  My eyes narrowed. “What are you two planning?”

  They rushed at me and flung their arms around my neck. “Can you make us a daisy shower?” asked the larger one. “And a bed of couch moss?”

  I patted their small backs, waiting for them to release their tight holds on my neck. “Sure,” I murmured. “If you can show me how.”

  The smaller of the pair darted down a path lined with raspberry canes, and her friend disappeared between a clump of dwarf palms that grew dates the size of my fist. I ran a hand through my hair, wondering if I should be doing something else instead of playing with the dryads.

  Hades was still suffering the effects of flesh-eating pollen, Samael and Mother were out there, trying to take over the Factions of Hell, and I still needed to check on Dami and Macavity.

  Common sense slapped me upside the head. The sooner I healed Hades, the sooner we could deal with the threat of Samael and Mother. The dryads were my best chance of mastering my plant magic. Even if hanging out with them was fun, it was probably the most important thing I could do right now to help win this covert war within Hell.

  “Kora?” Tiny footsteps padded toward me.

  I turned to find the taller dryad holding a small plate containing four different types of seeds.

  “You want me to germinate these for you?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  “Which one first?”

  “Daisies.”

  I took a pinch of the small beige pellets, placed it on the earth, and pushed my magic into them, just as Mother had taught me when I was younger. The seeds sprouted and grew into perfectly formed daisies of
about two inches in height.

  “No,” the dryad said.

  “What’s wrong?” I turned to her and frowned.

  “I need a daisy shower.” She stood on her tiptoes and stretched her arms above her head. “This high.”

  “Oh.” I chewed on my bottom lip. “You want me to make you a giant daisy?”

  She gave me an eager nod.

  I gulped. Mother had never taught me how to do anything but channel the magic she’d given me into plants. Most of the varieties we grew in the greenhouse were self-aware, but they didn’t look much different from non-magical plants of the same species.

  The dryad placed a hand on my shoulder. “You can do it,” she said in a soft voice. “Persephone made us nice things all the time.”

  “Right.” I took a few more seeds from her plate, shuffled to the side, and placed them on the earth.

  This time, instead of charging the seeds with enough magic to make them grow, I used the advice Hades gave me about materializing things and pictured a five-foot-tall daisy with a massive flower head.

  Instead of germinating, the seeds clumped together to form a teardrop-shaped bulb, which grew roots before sprouting a thick pointed shoot. The shoot inches off the ground, widening as it stretched up toward the artificial light.

  My breath quickened as the plant grew taller, thickened, and split. A closed flower of white petals emerged from within the shoot, complete with a sturdy stem. As the stem grew to four-and-a-half, the petals opened, revealing the circle of orange florets.

  It was just as I had imagined—an oversized daisy. I turned to the dryad and smiled, but she frowned.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It’s just a flower,” she replied.

  I rubbed the back of my neck, my brows drawing together to form a tight V. “But isn’t that what you wanted?”

  She shook her head. “This isn’t a shower.”

  “Oh.” I exhaled a long breath. “You want a plant that can draw the moisture out of the ground and push it out through its florets?”

  She gave me a firm nod.

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. She was asking for a plant equivalent to a sunflower shower head, but without a water supply. How on earth was I going to do that? Hades had told me gods had the power of creation. I just needed to forget what I’d learned from Mother about being helpless and trust in my capabilities.

  “Let’s try one more time.” I took a few more seeds, shuffled to the other side, and went through the same process, this time imagining the daisy with the expansive roots of a coconut palm, which was capable of sucking up large quantities of water.

  The plant grew to the same size as before, and as the flowerhead formed, I placed my hands on the stem and commanded it with my magic to bend forward to mimic a shower head.

  Water drizzled down from its florets. It was yellow and smelled of petals, and not as copious as a regular shower, but I was almost there.

  The dryad shoved her plate of seeds under my nose in a silent command to try again. I picked up another batch and scooted to the side. In the end, it took another five attempts to create a shower to her exact specifications, which included water that smelled of crisp apples instead of plants.

  I clapped my hands together, thoroughly sick of daisies, and desperate to move onto the next project.

  Her friend emerged from the path with a small clump of moss, which she deposited into my hand.

  I turned to her, my brows raised. “You want me to make a bed?”

  She nodded.

  My eyes narrowed. This time, I wanted to know exactly what they wanted, and every specification they required before embarking on another of their plant-related projects.

  “How big?” I asked. “And where do you want it?”

  She jogged to the other side of the clearing, lay on the ground, and stretched up her arms. As I walked toward her, she rolled around three times and giggled.

  I lowered myself to my knees. “So, you want a bed large enough for three dryads?”

  “Four,” she said.

  “Any other requests before I start?”

  She shook her head, making the strands of lemongrass rustle.

  “Okay.”

  It turned out that making a bed of moss was far easier than creating a shower out of a daisy. That, or all that hard work creating the flower to her friend’s exacting demands had developed my plant magic skills. The bed of moss turned out perfectly, with a raised headboard that the dryads loved.

  As they jumped on its springy surface, I rubbed my hands together, readying myself to create another panacea plant. This time, I wouldn’t just use my plant magic. This time, I would picture it as the most potent healer, and one strong enough to fix Hades’ lungs faster than the pollen could tear out its tissues.

  “Your Majesty?” asked Healer Iaso from behind.

  I turned to find her floating two bodies of human-looking men, each unconscious and wearing gray jumpsuits. “Who are they?”

  “I’ve inoculated them with the same spores that have afflicted my patient,” she said in a voice that implied I shouldn’t mention the identity of the person to whom she was referring.

  “Right.” I scrambled to my feet. “Where did you get these men?”

  She swept her hand to the center of the clearing, and I took a better look at the men. Their skin was pale and glistening with a sheen of sweat. Although both were unconscious, blood bubbled from the corners of their lips and streamed down their nose.

  I gulped. If these were humans she’d grabbed off the street to use as test subjects, I wasn’t sure how I would react.

  “Prisoners, Your Majesty,” she replied. “His Majesty decreed that those affiliated with King Samael were to be weeded out and destroyed.”

  “Okay.” I wiped my damp palms on my dress. “Are we going to test the panacea?”

  “I would like you to extract the pollen from their lungs,” the healer said.

  “Isn’t this something you can do with your magic?” I asked.

  She exhaled a long, weary breath. “This is a sentient type of grain that’s capable of reproducing to maintain its population. Each time I empty a subject’s lungs of the substance, the particles replicate themselves until they’ve eaten through the entire chest cavity.”

  “I had no idea,” I murmured.

  “It’s one of the most devastating weapons I’ve dealt with,” she said, her lips pursing with disapproval. “It’s as though whoever created it made the spores determined to destroy their target.”

  “So, what do you want me to do?” I asked.

  “Command the pollen to leave,” she said.

  My brows rose to my hairline, and I gazed down at the unconscious men. Their chests rose and fell with uneven breaths, sometimes pausing as though unsure which way to move. My stomach clenched. They weren’t capable of regenerating their tissues, and the longer I left them in this condition, the more damage the pollen would make.

  “Do you think that will work?”

  A small hand tugged at mine. It belonged to the dryad with the green hair and skin, who stared up at me with eyes that reminded me of the forest. “Try.”

  “You’re right.” I turned to the healer and smiled. “But let’s not do it in the dryad’s living area.”

  We followed the little creatures down a path lined with peach trees laden with fruit. Healer Iaso floated her patients behind us, who remained unconscious for the short walk to another clearing bordered by nut trees.

  The healer placed both men on the earth. “If you can cleanse these prisoners of the pollen without damaging any other organs, we might be able to try it out on our special patient.”

  “Let’s try.” I knelt beside the first prisoner.

  He was a blond man with a trimmed mustache that was already splattered in blood. Streams of red liquid poured from the corners of his lips, down his cheeks and onto the ground.

  “Any ideas on how I should approach this?” I asked.

/>   Healer Iaso placed her palm on the man’s breastbone. “When I tried this on another subject, all I did was command the discarded tissue to rise. I caught some of the spores, which died upon contact with the air, but it made no difference.”

  “Because the pollen reproduced?” I asked.

  She knelt beside me. “Which is why I would like you to command it all to leave.”

  With a nod, I stared into his chest and pictured tiny specks of yellow. “Okay, pollen,” I said. “You’ve completed your mission. Now, float and return to sender.”

  Healer Iaso snorted. “Nice touch.”

  I waited for something to happen, but the blond man jerked forward and coughed out a mouthful of blood. My stomach lurched. “Did I do it wrong?”

  Magic poured from beneath her hand, filling the man’s chest cavity. With her other hand, she raised a drop of blood and separated it into smaller particles. “I’m afraid that cough was a coincidence,” she said. “Will you try placing your hand on his chest and commanding the pollen directly?”

  “All right.” I did as she asked and repeated the words, this time imagining them streaking out from his lips.

  Instead of a fine mist of power that I had pictured, the pollen came out in a stream of mustard yellow that made bile rise to the back of my throat. I swallowed hard, my nose wrinkling.

  When it stopped running freely from the man’s lips, Healer Iaso gathered the pollen and placed it in a jar.

  I pulled back my hand and stared at my empty palm. “Did I get it all?”

  She leaned forward and placed a glowing hand on his chest. “Yes, Your Majesty, and they don’t appear to be reproducing.”

  “And his lungs?” I asked. “Can you repair them?”

  She gave me a firm nod. “There may not be much point, considering his execution is in an hour.”

  “Right.” My shoulders sagged. It was hard to feel like he deserved this punishment, even though he had been caught wanting to defect to Samael. I turned my gaze to the second man. “What do you want me to do about him?”

  “Order the pollen to stop.”