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It wasn’t often that you were allowed time in Lord Hades’ domain.
The Underworld was not a place for the living, for the most part–-or at least that’s what you used to believe. That it was a place for heroes of old to rest and their villains to burn and suffer. For the common mortal to wander. Back then you imagined, as one might do, that a place such as the Underworld must have smelled awful. Like moldy flesh and dusty bones, or sulfur and rot, or blood.
Right now, though, it smells like flowers, linen, and sweat.
“Fuck,” Zagreus groans through his teeth, and you answer with a pathetic, unintelligible noise of your own, half muffled by the mattress pressed solidly against one side of your face. The bed itself responds with a rhythmic creaking in time with the dull slap of the Underworld prince’s hips against the swell of your ass cheeks.
With each thrust, his hard cock fucks into your deepest parts, its thick length carving a raw and dripping path straight through you. One of his hands rests firmly on your upper back, pressing you down into the bed, while his other hand grips your hip, pulling your ass up into him. Your body submitted itself to Zagreus willingly, but his strength ensures it. During these moments, he is the only god to which you ever prayed.
“Are you ready to cum for me?” he asks, more lewd than most would expect and infuriatingly calm. However, you can’t hear him. Every muscle in your body is tensed: your fingers digging desperately into his bedsheets, your eyes screwed shut, your legs spread and your hips moving back into him to hit right there inside you--
“I can feel you, so close to bursting. So fucking tight around me. But I need to hear you.” Suddenly, his movements stop. The sweet, painful fire building in your core loses its bite, and you whine. People worship you, ask for your blessing, for your strength. And now you mewl like a pitiful little slut. Zagreus chuckles.
“Use your words. Or have you forgotten–”
“Please.” Finally, you find your voice, hoarse and broken as it is. “I want to cum, Zag, I need to cum. On your cock. Right now.”
There are actual tears building behind your eyes. No one has been able to satisfy you like this in centuries. No one can fill you, make you see stars like Zagreus can. The problem is that he knows this.
“Zag–-”
“Lie on your back.”
He abruptly slides his cock out of you, and you whine even louder in protest. You could swear the empty feeling inside you breaks your heart. A sudden smack leaves a sharp sting on your ass, and one surprised squeak later, you’re quickly rolled over onto your back by his large, warm hands.
That was another thing about the Underworld you didn’t expect: its warmth.
You’re pulled out of your half-dazed thoughts again by the motion of Zagreus raising one of your legs to rest in the crook of his neck and shoulder. His free hand once again pulls you closer by your hip, then slides casually down your lower stomach and even farther to brush over your most sensitive, aching places. You exhale shakily.
“Y/N… look at me,” he commands softly.
Your eyes trail from his still hard cock lined up against your entrance, to his pale, hard stomach and abdomen glistening with sweat, to his broad shoulders, and finally to his face. Each of his eyes dance with a special kind of fire, marking him as the son of life and death. Both are focused on you so intensely you feel them relight the spark deep inside you into a sudden, overwhelming flame. The crooked smile growing on his face tells you he can feel it, he can see it inside you, your desperate and primal desire.
And he wants to feed it until it consumes you both.