At this sound, he drops almost into a crouch, his hands roaming down to the backs of my thighs. To my surprise, he grips my thighs and picks me up, wrapping my legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. He walks us through the room, but I don’t worry about where, trusting him to figure out the details. He reaches our destination and sits with me straddling him. I hear the groan of the leather couch as our weight settles onto it. His hands travel back up to my behind, giving another quick squeeze, and then continue their perusal up the curves of my torso. His hands grip my waist and pull me tight against his hard chest.

            I put both of my hands on his chest and unbutton his shirt enough so that I can fully play with the hair peeking out. He groans at the sensation, and I can feel him growing through his pants. With the way we’re positioned, he’s pushing right into my most sensitive spot, a spot that is desperate to feel him. I move my hips, rubbing myself against him through our pants. Oh, how I wish there weren’t so many layers between us. Just as I’m building up a steady rhythm, his hands quickly move to my hips and still my movements. He pulls away from the kiss and I’m left panting, wanting for him. An embarrassing whimper escapes my lips at the loss of this contact.

            He brings a hand up to cup my cheek and gently strokes it, looking deep into my eyes. “Pers, you’re going to be my undoing.”

            His words make me feel bold. “Then let go,” I beg him. I can see the war raging in his eyes, one side begging him to wait, the other screaming how much he wants this. My eyes plead with his. I can see when his decision is made. He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw.

            “Not yet. We talked about this last night. Soon, but not yet.” His voice is firm, but not quite as firm as it was last night. I can hear the struggle in his voice. I fight the voice in my head telling me to take advantage of his struggle and continue moving on him until he eventually gives in. I don’t want our first time together to be something he regrets, because it wasn’t exactly how he pictured it. I carefully lift myself off of his lap, and turn my back to him. I’m not as embarrassed as I was last night, but I am disappointed. I know he’s not rejecting me, but there’s still a sting from feeling like he doesn’t as lost in me as I do in him. I decide to stroll over to the wall full of books and distract myself with the titles.

            I hear Hades sigh behind me, and the couch groans as he lifts off of it. “Please don’t be mad at me,” he begs from over my shoulder. His voice sounds broken. I turn to look at him, and there’s sadness in his eyes.

            “Hades, I’m not mad. Well, not at you. I’m a little mad at myself for not being able to control my urges around you. This is all new to me, and while I understand that you want this to be perfect, the only thing I want is to be with you. I’ll try to stop pushing, but if you keep doing things like this morning…” I trail off and feel my cheeks heating up. He chuckles at the recollection.

            “Darling, I plan on doing no such thing. I want to drive you wild. I want you begging me, when you just can’t take the torment anymore, and our little games aren’t enough for you. It’ll come, that I promise you.” He comes up behind me and places a soft kiss on my shoulder. “For now, I need to get some work done. Why don’t you pick out a book and stay with me? We can take a break later and have lunch together. Oh, and you said something about how my couch wasn’t to your liking, so you should probably reevaluate it.”

            I turn around and see three soft, blue pillows of varying sizes along the couch. There’s a green blanket draped over the top on the side closest to his desk, and a black one with hints of red in it draped along the top of the other side. Next to the couch on the green blanket side is a beautifully and elaborately carved side table, complete with a bright reading lamp and a coaster holding a glass of ice water.

            I smile up at Hades. “Much better,” I approve. I go back to perusing the books, eventually settling on a romance titled For the Love of the Gods. I’m surprised Hades has books like this in his office, but I don’t question it as I want back to the couch, book in hand, grab the green blanket and wrap it around myself before settling onto the couch. As I try to get comfortable, I realize something is missing. “Hades?” I catch his attention. He’s studiously bent over his desk, lost in his work, but he quickly looks up and lifts an eyebrow in question. “I believe I mentioned something about a footstool,” I remind him.