Chapter 36 Playing with Fire
Luz tugged on her jacket that evening, already half out the door of our dorm room. “I’m going to keep May company at the hospital. She’s wound tighter than a violin string.”
“That’s good,” I said, leaning back in my desk chair. “I’ll just be working on the next episode.”
Luz arched one perfect brow. “Work, huh?”
“Yes, work.” I folded my arms, trying to look serious.
She didn’t even pretend to buy it. “Sure. You’re absolutely not waiting for a certain broody professor to come knocking.”
Heat crawled up my neck. “He doesn’t just show up—”
“Uh-huh,” Luz smirked, swinging her bag over her shoulder. “Just do me a favor, amor. If you two are going to… you know…” She made a vague gesture. “At least put a sock on the door. I really don’t want to come home at two AM to find Hades’s bare ass in my dorm room.”
I nearly choked. “Luz!”
“What?” she said innocently. She plucked a box of condoms off the shelf and lobbed it at me. “I’m just saying. Boundaries. And protection. Estoy seria.”
I buried my face in my hands as she cackled her way out the door.
The latch clicked shut, and silence dropped over the room.
I genuinely did intend to work on the podcast script, but all I could think about was his mouth on my neck, his hands on my body, the way he’d lost control when I pushed too far.
My skin felt too tight, too overheated. I tried to focus on my notes. I opened the document, stared at the blank page, and then closed it five minutes later.
Cold shower. That’ll help.
It didn’t.
The water ran cold over my flushed skin, but instead of cooling me down, every droplet felt like his fingertips trailing across my shoulders, down my spine. I pressed my forehead against the tile, trying to breathe through the ache building low in my belly.
I circled my clit with clumsy fingers, imagining his touch instead of mine. But my own fingers felt wrong. Too soft, nothing like the confident pressure of his calloused hands. I tried harder, faster, my breath coming in frustrated gasps as the orgasm stayed just out of reach.
I gave up with a strangled sound of annoyance, shutting off the water and stepping out still trembling with unfulfilled need.
I yanked one of his button-ups from my drawer and dragged it over my head.
Dark blue, soft from years of wear, still smelling faintly of him.
The scent wrapped around me like a physical presence, making the ache between my thighs pulse harder.
I’d stolen it last week. He’d watched me put it on with a look that said he knew exactly what I was doing and found it both amusing and arousing.
Wearing it now felt like bait deliberately set.
I sat cross-legged on the dorm floor, the hem of his shirt brushing my thighs, staring at the space where I knew I could call him.
This was reckless and potentially dangerous. We’d agreed that using his divine name was for emergencies only. For life-or-death situations. Not for desire that felt like it might consume me.
Fuck it.
I flattened my palms to the cold linoleum floor. I took a breath, steadying myself. The air seemed to shift, listening.
“Hades,” I whispered.
The shadows bent inward like they were inhaling. The temperature dropped. The air thickened, static crackling over my skin. The lights flickered, and my laptop screen went dark.
He materialized out of shadow and smoke. His eyes burned with divine fire, barely contained power thrumming beneath his skin. Shadows writhed around his feet like eager pets, spreading across the floor, reaching for me.
He wore a black shirt that clung to every muscle, black pants riding low on his hips, and no shoes. The shadows wreathing him made him look beautiful and utterly inhuman.
Dangerous.
“Melanie—” His voice resonated with divine power that made my bones vibrate, urgency lacing his words. His gaze swept the room, assessing threats. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
His hands were already on me, checking for injuries with practiced efficiency. He tilted my chin up, scanning my throat for bruises. His other hand ran down my arms, pressed against my ribs, and slid lower.
He was in full protective mode, divine power humming beneath his skin, ready to destroy whatever had threatened me.
I smiled. “No, no. I’m fine. I just… missed you.”
The shift was immediate. His shoulders stiffened, the panic in his eyes morphing into confusion, then slow comprehension, then something wicked.
“Tealeaf,” he exhaled hard. The shadows around him coalesced and tightened, responding to his barely contained power. “You summoned me, used the emergency protocol, because you missed me?”
He kept his voice carefully controlled, but I could hear the layers underneath. Relief, frustration, disbelief at my audacity. His eyes lit with feral energy waiting to be unleashed.
I lifted my chin, meeting that infernal gaze. “It seemed like the quickest way to get you here.”
“The quickest—” He cut himself off, laughing in a way that sounded caught between amusement and the desire to either kiss me or strangle me. “I have a perfectly functional phone, Melanie. You could have called or texted me.”
“This was faster,” I pointed out, letting the shirt slip off one shoulder. “And more fun.”
“This was insane,” he corrected, his lips twitching as his eyes tracked down my body, taking in his shirt on my bare skin, the way my nipples were visible through the thin fabric. “What if I’d been in a meeting?”
“At nine PM on a Wednesday?”
His eyes narrowed. “I was grading papers.”
“So you were alone,” I concluded, tracing a finger down his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palm. “And now you’re here. Problem solved.”
He stared at me like I just told him I decided to juggle live grenades. “You called the God of the Dead for a booty call?”
I stepped into him, sliding my arms around his waist, tilting my face up to meet those still-glowing eyes.
“Sorry,” I said, trying for sheepish and failing. I gave him a cheeky grin. “But you’re here now. And Luz is gone for the night…” I rolled my hips against him, his hard length already straining against his pants. “And I’m not wearing anything under your shirt.”
I let my hands slide lower down his back, feeling the muscles tense. And because I was apparently begging for trouble—
I pinched his ass. Hard.
He let out a lethal growl, vibrating through my bones and straight between my legs. The shadows reacted, billowing outward and consuming the space between us like a tidal wave.
They seized my wrists with cool, firm pressure, yanking me off my feet and throwing me back onto my bed before I could even gasp. The mattress bounced beneath me, my shirt riding up, exposing me.
Invisible bonds wrapped my ankles, spreading my legs wide, coiling up my calves and thighs. He loomed above me, one hand closing careful but firm around my throat. His weight settled over me, caging me in, his eyes blazing like glowing embers.
His thumb stroked once along my pulse point, feeling it race, the other hand sliding up my thigh, stopping just short of where I needed him most.
“Melanie.” His voice was rough, edged with his last thread of control. “You summoned Hades, not Kian. Not Aidoneus. Do you understand the difference?”
I nodded, anticipation and arousal stealing my voice.
“Words,” he commanded, his grip tightening fractionally. “I need words.”
“Yes,” I managed, breathy and desperate. “I understand.”
“If we do this, if I give you what you’re asking for, I won’t hold back the way I usually do. You’ll get the god, not the man. The shadows, the darkness, all of it.” His glowing eyes burned into mine. “Do you understand what that means?”
My breath came faster, my hips shifting against the mattress, seeking friction. “Yes.”
“Say it clearly. Tell me what you want.” His hand tightened on my throat, cutting off just enough air to make me dizzy.
“I want you,” I breathed. “All of you. The god, not the man. No holding back.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes. “You sure about that, Tealeaf?”
I lifted my chin in challenge. “Try me.”
His laugh was wicked. He leaned down until his lips brushed my ear. “You want danger?” His voice was pure menace, resonating with divine power that made my core clench. Invisible caresses traced up my thighs, creating goosebumps. “Then don’t you dare beg me to be gentle.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Who says I would?”
He paused, his eyes narrowing as they tracked the thin walls of my dorm room with obvious disdain.
Shadows pooled and gathered around him like smoke learning to move, then rippled outward in waves.
They seeped into the corners of the room, coating the walls like liquid night, pressing into the spaces between the cinder blocks and cheap drywall.
The air itself seemed to thicken, compress, becoming heavier and more enclosed.
“Better,” he murmured, satisfaction darkening his features. His hand found my jaw, tilting my face up to his. “Now no one can hear you scream my name.”
His mouth crashed onto mine before I could think. His teeth caught my lower lip hard, making me gasp, arching under him.
He groaned deep in his chest. “Fuck, you taste like ambrosia and sin.”
The shirt I’d stolen hung open around my thighs, and his free hand slid beneath it with deliberate slowness, calloused fingers dragging across my ribs, my stomach, leaving trails of fire. He palmed my breast roughly, pinching my nipple hard enough to make me cry out.
The shadows drifted across my skin like phantom fingers, a hundred unseen caresses.
One ghosted up the inside of my thigh, feather-light, then retreated just before reaching my core.
Another swirled across my breast, circling my nipple.
It retreated, circled again, and retreated, never quite giving me what I craved.
I whimpered, trying to arch into the touches, but the bonds held firm.