Page 103 of Bride of Death

My palm drops from the wall as I turn to face him fully, my opposite hand still on my dick.

He notices but doesn’t comment. “What do you want, Hades?” I ask him.

“Right now or in general?” he inquires.

“Both,” I say, knowing my answer doesn’t actually matter. He’ll tell me whatever he feels like sharing.

His gaze captures and holds mine. “I want you to respond to my previous questions about my mate because I’m thinking about asking you to kiss her.”

My back stiffens. “Are you going to tell me to fuck her?” I demand, far too aware of his kinky preferences.

He frowns. “I saidkiss,notfuck.”

I glare at him. “So you’ll let me kiss her but not fuck her?”

His jaw clenches. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me, Maliki?”

I huff and return to my shower, done with this conversation. He says something I purposely tune out while I dampen my hair, then I pointedly give him my back as I work on lathering my hair up with shampoo.

His gaze practically burns against my skin when I pick up a soap bar and use it to cleanse myself—all while not looking at him.

Yet I can feel him very much admiring me.

It’s always been this way, his eyes on me with a mild curiosity that is borderline erotic. But really, it’s an evaluation. Like he wants to make sure I’m sexually competent for his uses.

I’ve waited eons for him to do something other thanwatch.

Not because I want him to touch me or fuck me. That’s not my interest.

No, my desire has always been toshare.

I want to feel him inside a woman while I fuck her, to experience his power as we take a female to new heights.

Thatis my kink.

I like pleasure.

Giving it. Receiving it.Sharing it.

And I know he would be masterful in bed.

So I’ve spent millennia proving to him that I can keep up. That I, too, know how to command a bedroom.

Yet all he’s done iswatch. And now he wants to watch some more?

“No,” I tell him after I’m done rinsing off. “No, I will not fuck her for you.” I grab a towel and use it to dry myself off. “If you want me to touch her, then you’ll have to touch her, too.”

“I saidkiss,” he reiterates through his teeth. “I also don’t think she wants me to touch her.”

“And whose fault is that?” I ask him, tired of this circular discussion.

Leaving him, I head for my closet, not caring at all that my hair is still dripping with water.

Naturally, Hades follows. “How are you going to feel when you find out this is all a lie? That Persephone is playing a game and manipulating you?”

I grab a pair of sweats and turn around to face him. “She’s not Persephone. And you can’t punish Sera for the sins of your soulmate.”

His jaw ticks. “Then answer me hypothetically, Maliki. How would you feel if you found out she’s just a deceptive Omega with a penchant for betraying her lover?”