CHAPTERONE
One.Two. Three. Stay focused, Ashlyn.
That was easy to think but harder to do while brushing my lips lightly against the King of Hell’s.
Four. Five. Six.
Each frantic beat of my heart echoed in my ears, making it easier to keep count. How many beats did I need? Since I didn’t know how long it would take to prove my humanity, the more beats the better.
He opened his mouth and nipped my bottom lip, demanding my attention and sending a wave of warmth through me. I almost groaned and absolutely lost count for a few beats as I swam in the sensation of his lips against mine.
Not good.
Fourteen. Fifteen.
I tried to do the math in my head to distract myself from the feeling of him. If every seven heartbeats bought me a day, how many would I need for a week?
He lightly licked where he’d nipped me, which made me think of the last time he’d done that. The kiss had contained a level of heat that made lava rivers in Hell look like an ice bath.
I shivered lightly at the memory, and he groaned.
The sound sent a jolt of need through me, and my pulse sped up. I fought against the need to press closer to him, to open my mouth and welcome a real kiss, and reminded myself that a racing pulse was good. More beats meant more days.
That’s right, Ashlyn. Do the math. Focus.
I needed forty-nine beats for a week. Would a week be enough to prove to Hades that I was Ashlyn, not Persephone, his messed-up psycho queen?
What he’d said just before I started this kiss filled my mind.
“I will not be easily convinced, Goddess. For your sake, make this last.”
Yeah, a week might not be enough. Definitely need a second one,I thought, my fingers stroking over the skin of his chest. I caught what I was doing and tried to push back the need slowly pulling me under. What I was feeling wasn’t real. It was his magical appeal.
Twenty-five. Twenty-six.
His fingers brushed over the back of my hands, nudging them to move again. And they did. It was like I had no control over them. They smoothed over his silky skin, exploring the ridges of his pectorals and that tempting dip between them.
Gods, I wanted to lick him there.
My lips parted.
He growled and boldly stroked his tongue along the seam, coaxing me to open for him. My hands slipped to his shoulders. Whether to hold him back or brace myself, I couldn’t be sure. I didn’t care.
No, I needed to care. Why? I struggled to remember why letting him kiss me like this was a bad idea when it felt so very good.
He was Hades, ruler of the underworld, a slightly unstable but devastatingly sexy and delicious god who thought I was his long-dead wife. Kissing him was definitely a bad idea.
The tingle left in the wake of his tongue disagreed. It said that it was a very good idea to accept what he was offering.
I tentatively nipped his lip in return. He made a tortured sound, and his hands brushed over the backs of mine, nudging them from his shoulders and up the back of his neck to his hair. The soft, smooth strands teased my palms. I drew closer. One step. Then another. My chest pressed against his, adding to the sensation of his lips against mine.
His heat branded me.
His need called to me.
I belonged to no other.
Tangling my fingers into the dark strands, I opened and freely offered him more. He took it. His tongue explored mine with a gentleness that contradicted everything I thought I knew about him. Each stroke teased and added to the fire consuming me from within.
