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Hades nods once as if I’ve made the offer aloud. He takes Meg’s hands and guides them behind her back, mirroring the same position I’m in. “Use his cock, love. Take exactly what you need.” He resumes stroking her clit, a possessive touch that conveys the truth. My cock might be hers, but he owns everyone in this room.

Meg’s strokes lose their smooth rhythm, and Hades is there with his free hand, gripping her hips and forcing her to keep up the motion that will send her over the edge. I’m close behind, every muscle in my body coiling tighter and tighter as I fight off orgasm. She has to come first. She has to.

Hades ensures it happens. He presses hard on her piercing and her pussy clenches so tightly around my cock that I curse. I forget myself, forget my orders. I grab her hips and drive into her again and again, chasing my own pleasure as she milks my cock with wave after wave of orgasm. I slump back onto the couch, a boneless mess, and Meg does the same against Hades. He presses a kiss to her neck and strokes her stomach, her breasts, her arms, before shifting to give me a similar treatment. That little touch grounds me when I didn’t even realize I was floating. Hades carefully eases Meg down onto my chest and presses a soft kiss to my mouth that I’m too dazed to return. “Don’t move.”

As if I could even if I wanted to. I wave a hand vaguely and wrap my arms around Meg, cuddling her into me. She kisses my neck and nuzzles me, obviously as blitzed as I feel. Damn. I just… damn. I didn’t know sex could be like this. It was beyond good, beyond great. It was fucking life-changing.

And I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve only scratched the surface.

Hades returns quickly with blankets and a warm damp rag that smells faintly of clean laundry. He helps us sit up and cleans us up a little. Though he doesn’t linger on that aspect, there’s an element of softness in his caretaking that I didn’t expect. Maybe I should have. Several minutes later, he has us wrapped up in our respective blankets and leaning against him on either side. It feels so fucking right, I don’t bother to question it. Meg reaches across his lap and laces her fingers through mine, another little point of contact, a connection I crave as much as Hades’s warm strength.

I don’t know how much time passes while Hades acts as rock to our respective storms. Long enough that my heart is no longer trying to beat its way out of my chest and my breathing evens out. Finally, as if he’s as reluctant to break this peace as I am, he sighs. “I suppose it’s long since past time to talk.”

Chapter 20

Meg

I don’t have the energy for this conversation now, which must have been the point when we began this night. It doesn’t seem to matter, though, because Hades is speaking in that careful way of his that seems to come out when he’s negotiating. I push up a little, needing to see his face as he talks. My body resists the call to action, but I power through the languid feeling coating my muscles. Some things are more important than the afterglow. On his other side, Hercules does the same, shifting back to rest against the arm of the couch. His legs are still pressing against Hades; he doesn’t seem to be able to give up that contact any more than I can.

Hades plays his fingers along my knee and sighs. “I targeted Hercules specifically.”

I know that already. He does nothing without reason, and we were in that restaurant with the sole purpose of netting Hercules. “Yes, I’m aware of that, even if you didn’t bother to tell me.” My voice comes out sharper than I want it to, giving too much away, but I can’t seem to help myself. My defenses are down, crashed to pieces by these two men.

He continues as if I haven’t spoken. “I did intend him as a gift to you, love. But that’s not the reason I picked him specifically.”

A gift. I still haven’t quite wrapped my mind around the fact that Hades knew exactly how messed up we’d gotten and instead of talking to me like a normal person, he served me Hercules on a platter. I don’t know that I can throw stones at this point, though. As Hades pointed out, I didn’t exactly tell him everything I was feeling.

Maybe he’s right. We aren’t normal people to fix our problems in that way. And I can’t deny that Hercules’s presence helps in ways I wasn’t expecting. Not solely in prodding us to talk to each other, but he’s a soft ooey-gooey center to all our harsh edges. He blunts us, allows us to connect in a softer way.