Does Your Mother Know

by Bronwyn Green

  Does Your Mother Know?

  By Bronwyn Green

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

  Resplendence Publishing, LLC

  2665 S Atlantic Avenue, #349

  Daytona Beach, FL 32118

  Does Your Mother Know?

  Copyright © 2011 Bronwyn Green

  Edited by Michele Paulin

  Cover art by Les Byerley, www.les3photo8.com

  Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-369-0

  Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  Electronic Release: August, 2011

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

  To Michele, who saw something worth saving.

  Chapter One

  She walked away from the snug, stone cottage nestled in the valley. With each step, the weather grew colder. The leaves around her changed from soft greens to vibrant golds, burgundies and oranges, flaming brightly against the painfully blue sky. The sky faded as the dwelling became a tiny dot on the horizon. The blue, that once hurt to look at directly, darkened to a pewter gray as the leaves drifted from the trees, becoming dry and brittle before they even touched the ground.

  Her mother was in fine form today. The more she raged, the more quickly the land died.

  Persephone sighed. It didn’t change anything. The woman could throw as many tantrums as she liked, but Persephone had had enough. She loved her mother, of course, but she’d been held hostage to the woman’s unfulfilled dreams for too long. Just because Demeter chose to live a miserable, bitter existence didn’t mean she needed to trap her only child within it.

  Persephone drew her cloak more tightly around her shoulders as she continued to push forward. The overly sweet, sickly scent of rotting apples filled the air, clinging to everything around her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the sheep, looking for shelter from the buffeting winds, reeked of the decaying fruit.

  Dark storm clouds roiled overhead, throwing needle-like raindrops to the earth. Icy wetness seeped through the thin wool wrapping her body, and she shivered beneath the increasingly heavy weight. She could put a stop to this. If she returned home, all would be forgiven as if it had never happened. In fact, her mother would pretend it never had happened then light and warmth would return to the land. But Persephone was tired of being a captive in her own home. She wanted more than to tend the gardens and fruit trees. Her mother might be content to cut herself off from physical contact, but Persephone wasn’t.

  She wanted things. Things she couldn’t even name. Dark things. Things that made her body ache with needs she couldn’t describe, let alone explain. Needs that kept her awake at night and distracted during the day. Needs that twisted her dreams into writhing, pulse-pounding visions of equal parts torment and ecstasy. Needs that became more pronounced every time she saw him. Needs that made her cross from the land of the living and into the dead.

  * * * *

  “Does your mother know you’re here?”

  Persephone shrugged. “Does it really matter to you?”

  A slight grin curved his firm lips as he watched her creep nearer. He pushed away from the pillar he’d leaned against. “Not particularly.”

  Long, midnight hair spilled over his muscular shoulders, falling to the middle of his back as he stalked toward her, his movements predatory. He circled her almost warily as if she might run from him. Her heart was in her throat, but she was rooted to the spot, watching the firelight play off the shifting muscles beneath his skin. She lifted her hand as he drew nearer but just as quickly dropped it to her side and clutched her skirt.

  Turning away from him and the nearly hypnotic pull he had on her, she looked around the chamber she’d been brought to. Thick, yellow candles stood in wrought-iron stands around a huge bed in the back of the room. The flickering flames glinted off silver goblets and bowls on a nearby table and paintings graced the cavern walls.

  Her mother had lied again. What a surprise.

  There were no bodies writhing in pits of lava. No poor souls chained to the walls and being beaten. No pain, no crying, no blood, no torment, no wailing—well, there was wailing of a sort. Low, sensual cries echoed off the stone walls and caused the secret places within her to clench and ache.

  His dark eyes brightened as he watched her, almost as if he sensed her response.

  “Why are you here, Persephone?” His low voice rumbled through her, settling deep within her womb.

  She took a shuddery breath, feigning bravery she was far from feeling. “I want what you promised me.”

  His lips quirked, and he stepped closer, his fingertip trailing along her collarbone. The roughened pad sent shivers along her limbs, but she forced herself to stand still and hold his gaze.

  “I don’t recall promising you anything.”

  “Didn’t you?” Uncertainty pricked her when he didn’t respond. Had she misread his desire for her? She swallowed thickly, her pride and unfulfilled longing sitting heavily in her stomach. “My mistake.”

  Turning stiffly, she walked towards the arched doorway of his chamber but stopped as her cloak snagged on something. She glanced behind her. It wasn’t a snag at all but Hades with a handful of fabric in his grasp. Gently, he reeled her backward until his chest pressed against her back. The warmth of his body seeped through her rain-dampened cloak as his hands skimmed up her arms and over her shoulders. His fingers circled her neck and caressed the flesh as he leaned forward, his lips skimming the outer shell of her ear.

  “Unless you mean the promises I’ve whispered to you while you’ve slept.”

  Persephone turned to look at him, his hands still loosely around her neck. A tremor of unease skated along her spine at his admission. Maybe her mother had been right. These needs she had weren’t natural. Instead, they were the byproduct of insidious messages by the Lord of the Underworld. But as she stood there, his long fingers stroking her neck, she realized she didn’t care. She was empty and craving something more than harvesting fruit and tending the fields.

  Heedless of the consequences, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his bare chest, inhaling his warm, spicy scent.

  Chapter Two

  At the touch of Persephone’s tongue on his flesh, Hades’ fingers convulsed on her. His breath hissed through clenched teeth as she trailed her mouth over his chest to tease his tight nipple. Splaying his fingers through her hair, he cupped the back of her head as she nibbled at the tiny bud, his breath catching at the pleasure of her mouth on his skin. The velvet touch of her tongue mingled with the warmth of her lips, and sensation sang through him. He’d waited so long for her to come to him. In fact, he’d feared she never would.

  She sank her teeth into his pectoral muscle, and he dragged in a harsh breath. His hand tightened in her hair, and he yanked, tilting her head back until she met his hungry gaze. Her eyes were wide and dark as she stared up at him, her lips slightly damp and parted. Without a word, he leaned forward and captured her lips, claiming her mouth. The kiss was rough, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to welcome it, opening beneath the pressure of his lips and tongue. Moving closer, she pressed her soft, pliant curves against his body, groaning as he tightened his grip in her hair. The autumn-colored strands caressed his skin like a heavy fall of windswept silk.

  Her mouth reminded him of the sweetest fr
uit as he delved inside, stroking and tasting. He caught her tiny sounds of pleasure as she responded, tentatively at first, then growing bolder. His cock hardened further with each needy whimper.

  He nipped at her kiss-swollen lower lip before raising his head. “Is this the promise I made?”

  With one hand still tangled in her hair, he found the clasp of her cloak and unfastened it, letting the heavy, wet fabric fall from her shoulders to puddle at her feet. A shiver worked though her as his free hand slid from her throat to her waist, dragging her closer.

  Forcing himself to remain still, he barely managed to keep from thrusting his eager cock against the sweet softness of her mound. Now that he finally had her in his arms, the last thing he wanted was to frighten her away.

  She covered his hand with her own much smaller one and surprising him, dragged their fingers upward, until they covered her breast. Her nipple hardened immediately against his palm.

  “So responsive,” he breathed against her ear.

  She glanced down, seemingly mesmerized by sight of their laced fingers. Moving his hand in a circle, he palmed her nipple, a small smile playing at his lips as she arched into his touch.

  He dragged his fingers up to her shoulders, goose bumps following in his wake. Slipping his fingertips beneath neckline of her dress, he slid it down, slowly baring her shoulders then the upper swells of her breasts. The filmy material caught momentarily on her erect nipples, sending shivers of need racing through her. Her need mirrored his own.

  The crinkled nubs tightened further under his scrutiny, and he gave one last tug, dragging the fabric down until she was naked to the waist. His breath stalled in his throat. Pebbled, berry-colored tips sat atop full, creamy breasts. Her skin almost seemed to glow in the dim, candlelit cavern, practically begging for his touch.

  Her hands fluttered like nervous moths before settling at his waist, attempting to draw him closer, but he held his ground. He’d waited far too long for this. Up until now, he’d satisfied himself with fleeting glimpses and rare, brief conversations stolen before Demeter’s arrival. But now? Now, he had Persephone to himself. She’d come to him. To a place her mother couldn’t follow.

  Holding Persephone’s gaze, he cupped her breast in his hand, brushing his thumb across her sweetly distended nipple. Her skin felt almost cool to the touch, but that would change quickly. Rolling the tip between his thumb and forefinger, he walked her backward towards the bed.

  “Or perhaps this was the promise I made,” he rumbled against the shell of her ear, pinching her flesh lightly.

  Chapter Three

  Persephone closed her eyes at the sharp bite of pain that quickly morphed into pleasure as he squeezed harder before releasing her. Her breath shuddered as his lips trailed a heated path along her neck and over her chest. She’d imagined this moment so many times, but it was nothing like she’d envisioned. There was no way she could have anticipated the calluses on his fingertips or the delicious, wet heat of his mouth. Nor could she have envisioned how it would feel to have the thick column of his cock pressed against her mound.

  The back of her knees hit the bed as he engulfed her nipple in his mouth, toppling her onto the mattress. The pleasure of his earlier kisses was nothing compared to sensuous tugging on her aching flesh. She cried out when the almost sharp edges of his teeth scraped over the tight peaks. Her fingers scrabbled at his shoulders as a breathy moan escaped her lips. Sliding her hands into his hair, she clutched his head, refusing to let him move. She never wanted him to stop.

  Her folds dampened, and she shifted against him, against the hard ridge of his cock, to alleviate the ache between her legs. It didn’t work.

  He lifted his head, and his hair fell around them like a dark curtain obscuring everything but his face. “Is this the promise I made?” he asked, his eyes intense as they bored into hers.

  Lowering his head again, he pulled her other nipple into his mouth. Wet heat bloomed around her flesh as he drew on her, creating a rhythmic pulse, connecting her breasts and her womb. Nudging apart her legs with his knee, he settled in the cradle of her thighs. His weight pressed her into the bedding, sending fissions of pleasure racing through her to center in her groin. The thick ridge of his cock lodged against her mound. More than anything, she wanted him inside her. She lifted her hips, rocking against him.

  Releasing her nipple, he reached towards the silver bowl sitting alongside the bed. Holding a pomegranate aril to her lips, he traced her mouth with the tiny, succulent piece of fruit. As much as she longed to taste it, she could not.

  “I would take you for my queen,” he rasped, again following the seam of her lips with the aril.

  Holding his gaze, she slowly shook her head, regret heavy in her heart. To eat food in the Underworld meant she’d remain there forever.

  A half smile lifted the corners of his mouth, and he ate the seed. “All things come to me in time.”

  Taking a handful of arils, he popped them in his mouth before drawing her nipple between his lips again. He sucked hard, and the fragile flesh encasing the seeds burst against her skin. The juice was almost chilly compared to the heat of his mouth. Using his tongue, he rolled the tiny seeds around her aching bud, abrading it with the rough texture of the kernels. He repeated the torment on the other breast until she writhed beneath him, her nipples stained red from the pomegranate’s juice.

  Dragging heated kisses down her torso, Hades stripped the dress from her body. He sat back on his heels and stared at her until she fought the urge to cover herself.

  “Never hide from me,” he grated, leaning forward and pressing his lips to her stomach. Her muscles jumped beneath his touch, and liquid heat spread through her body, making her limbs heavy and her movements languid.

  He inched lower, his stubbled chin scraping her delicate flesh and making her cunt pulse with need. Spreading her legs wider, she hoped he’d take pity on her and touch her already. No man had ever touched her. Her mother had seen to that. Persephone smothered the sharp stab of guilt that surfaced at the thought of Demeter and focused on the man trailing his tongue along the inside of her thigh.

  Hades crept closer to her mound, and all thought that didn’t pertain to his clever mouth vanished. He dragged a single finger through her cleft before spreading her folds, and her body lifted upward.

  With a chuckle, he slung a heavy arm across her hips, securing her to the bed. The hair on his forearm abraded her over-sensitized flesh, and she squirmed beneath him. His warm breath bathed her damp flesh as he inched closer to her center.

  “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? For you?” he asked, his lips brushing her inner thighs.

  She shook her head, eyes squeezed shut.

  “Forever.” He shifted his grip on her and spread her lips wide, completely exposing her cunt to his gaze, and she felt his ragged inhalation deep in the pit of her stomach.

  Opening her eyes, she risked a glance at him. His gaze travelled up the length of her body to meet hers. An almost feral heat glowed in the nearly black depths, and she was powerless to look away. Her tummy trembled in nervous anticipation as he stared at her.

  Finally, he lowered his head to her mound. Dragging the tip of his tongue through her folds, he carefully avoided the sensitive bundle of nerves that ached for attention. She tried to lift her hips to urge him in the right direction, but he wouldn’t be hurried. Lapping at her, he gathered her cream on his tongue, darting inside her quivering opening as she writhed against him. Every caress of his mouth pulled yearning, wordless whimpers from her. She’d never imagined anything could feel as good as his mouth on her flesh.

  The taste of Persephone’s sweet arousal filled his mouth—even more delicious than the pomegranate juice. He continued to torment her, driving her need higher. He still found it hard to believe she was finally here. How many dreams had he sent her? Messages sent on the wings of sleep because he’d had so few opportunities to communicate with her. He’d waited for so long, he’d begun to think
it would never happen, but now that it finally had, he refused to lose a moment to indecision or pointless contemplation.

  His fingers replaced his tongue, stroking into her willing body, driving her need higher.

  “Is this the promise that I made?” he asked as he pushed into her quivering body.

  She nodded, shook her head then nodded again before closing her eyes, her head thrashing from side to side. He loved her responsiveness, the breathless way she clutched the bedding, twisting it in her hands. He loved the way her eyes squeezed shut and her teeth sank into her lower lip as she tried to hold back her cries. His cock jerked at each agonized whimper.

  The callused pads of his fingertips caught slightly as he slid them through her tender channel. Her muscles tightened, and her body tensed. She was so close.

  Without warning, he drew her clit between his lips and sucked hard. His name fell from her lips like a prayer as she strained against him. Her release pitched and swelled, washing over her as the prayer became an agonized cry resonating throughout the cavern.

  He wanted to push her over the edge again and again. More than that, he wanted to catch her every time she fell.

  Trembling, she urged him forward, clutching at his shoulders, seemingly desperate to have him fill her. Her eyes were dark and wild as she tugged at him. He understood. He wanted inside her just as badly. He’d had more women than he could remember, but none of them had him feeling as much like an untried youth as Persephone did.

  Grabbing another pomegranate seed, he again offered it to her, teasing her passion-swollen lips. “Be my queen.” The words tumbled from his mouth—half plea, half demand.

  The wildness faded slightly from her eyes, and she slowly shook her head, swallowing thickly. “I can’t.”