The chamber was quiet except for the soft, rhythmic slap of skin against skin and the low, broken sounds spilling from Beatrice's throat.
She was on her hands and knees in the center of her bed, back arched like a drawn bow, golden hair cascading over one shoulder.
Hades moved behind her, deep and deliberate, every slow thrust rolling through her body like a wave.
Their joining was slick, warm, the intimate sound of her body welcoming him soft but unmistakable, like a whispered secret each time he sank home.
Beatrice's fingers curled into the sheets.
"Hades…" she breathed, the name trembling on her lips.
He leaned over her, chest to her back, one hand sliding beneath her to cradle a swaying breast, the other threading through her hair to turn her face to him.
He kissed her, messy and deep, swallowing every moan as his hips kept that steady, devastating rhythm.
"My love," he murmured against her mouth, voice rough with reverence. "Feel how perfectly you take me."
