Drag Me Down

“Persephone.” He hummed my name, trailing his fingers across my bare shoulder. His hands went lower, close to my breasts. Clenching my thighs together, I whimpered. His knee came between to nudge my legs apart. “Please,” I said. “Words, baby, use your words.” He encouraged me. “What do you want?” He asked, his deep voice was like syrup dripping onto my chest, making me wetter than ever. Suddenly my vision became hazy. Sounds morphed into voices from above my body, and the delicious heat disappeared. A splash of cold water woke me from my dream. “Seph, wake up!” Tilda, my roommate, stood next to my bed with a water sprayer. Half disappointed at the abrupt ending of sexy dream time, my eyes fluttered open. Lately I’d been having a bevy of vividly erotic dreams, always with the same person. I wasn’t complaining, but maybe it was my subconscious telling me I needed to get laid soon. “Ugh, this is way too early,” I rubbed a hand over my face. “No, it’s not! Class starts in ten minutes!” She adjusted her earrings and went back to her side, looking at the mirror. I shot up from my bed as soon as she said ten. “The f**k, Til!” I ran to my closet to grab my clothes before going to the bathroom. Tilda let out a wild giggle as she swiped on her eyeliner. Exactly ten minutes later I walked into my first literature class of my third year at Rose University. Though it was a stretch, I managed to change into something publicly acceptable, otherwise I’d be in my barely there sleep shorts and undershirt. I wore a black pencil skirt, tucked in purple v-neck and a simple silver metallic flower bracelet that I always wore coupled with black pumps. It was a new class called Myths Versus Reality with a new professor. As usual, most students were late. Some students were already in class, chatting about the holidays. Tilda and I sat near the middle on the left of the large lecture room. Then he walked in. A man came to the front and put his brown briefcase down. He was handsome as f**k. More than handsome, he resembled a god. Light blue galaxy streaks of soft hair, chiseled jaw, deep and entrancing brown eyes. He was tall, with wide shoulders. Lean, dressed in a black suit and white collared chemise shirt. My lips fell open slightly as I realized he was a god. I sensed his glamor, and knew he sensed mine too. His eyes flashed to mine and for a second I saw them flick to a molten gold color before returning to a deep forest brown. “I’m Mr Hans, substitute professor for today as your professor has come down with a case of chickenpox.” I realized three things at the moment when he passed by my row, and glanced at me with a look that read ‘we have unfinished business.’ One, he was here for me. Two, this gorgeous ‘man’ was Hades, god of the underworld. Three, I was truly, and utterly f****d.