by Winter Fox
Just when I was sure I’d lose consciousness, he slowly withdrew his finger from me. After a couple of minutes of short, sharp panting, I managed to get my breathing to slow down a little. I had to admit that every part of my body below the waist felt a thousand times better than it had twenty minutes ago.
He slid his hands underneath me again, only this time he turned me onto my back. He carefully straddled my body, and his cold eyes—because they were so cold right now—looked over my exposed breasts. He frowned at the bruising he saw on my nipples.
“I should have taken those clamps off you sooner. I was just so distracted by everything else.” He spoke so quietly, I barely heard him.
I nodded; letting him know that it was okay. He’d done so much for me. When he suddenly stroked a finger softly across my bruised left nipple, I cried out in pain.
“The ointment won’t help with bruising like this,” he said. Then his left hand reached out to brush a finger over the other nipple. His touch pulled the same response from my mouth as before.
“You enjoy hurting me,” I gasped.
He shook his head slowly from side to side. “No. But I need to remind you that this is all a result of your decision to run.”
He bent forward, leaning over me and sucked one bruised tip into his warm mouth. It hurt, and I lifted my arms, trying to push him off me, but he held them down easily. Then, he sucked a little harder; before swapping his mouth to the other nipple, and repeating the process.
When his mouth let go of my throbbing breast, he also released my hands, and sat up straight so that he was looking down at me. His eyes were still so cold, and there was no trace of humor on his lips.
“Your wounds will heal, given a little time. Your indiscretion has set your training back by a week or so. But you are still scheduled to be handed over to your new husband on Christmas Eve.”
My eyes widened. “What? What do you mean my new husband? I thought I was supposed to marry you.”
For just a second, I was sure I saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes, but as quickly as it came, it was gone.
“A long time ago, yes. Things are different now, and a man like me has no use for a wife.” His voice was almost robotic.
Fear gripped me now. “Who am I going to marry? Please not Erebus? Adonis please tell me?”
He shook his head slowly. “That really is the final time you’ll get away with using my name, slave. From now on, you will only ever refer to me as master. Is that clear?”
I thought about hitting him. Everything was falling apart. All of the hope, which Emma had helped to grow inside me, turned into ashes in my chest. He was a monster, after all.
Noticing the tell-tale flinch of my hands as they curled into fists, Adonis shook his head again. “The time for bad behavior is over, eighty-eight. I have seven weeks to make a slave, and a wife out of you. I won’t tolerate any more of your shit.”
He stood up from me now, sliding off the bed, and starting toward the door. The sudden departure of his warm body only served to enhance the coldness which was crippling me.
“You will be calm. You will be respectful. You will be obedient. You will fuck me whenever I tell you to, and you will make me believe that you are enjoying every single second of it. Do I make myself clear?”
I struggled to find the words. All of it: the hope the promise, the future, faded away into nothing. I would be a captive for my whole unnaturally long life. This man would not help me.
He paused at the door, staring at me. My silence was not an option.
“Yes, master.” I choked the words out.
He nodded, but there was still no sign of emotion on his face. “And then on Christmas Eve, you will be handed over to my father. I will witness you becoming his wife, and then I’m going to be leaving on a very long holiday.”
Charles Olympus. I was going to be married to Charles Olympus. As his words settled in my mind, I started to feel myself falling apart. What possible future was there for me now? Although it was strangely fitting that the man who had taken possession of me when I was six-years old would be the one to break me completely. In some fucked up way, it was as though everything was completing a full circle.
As though it was always supposed to end this way.
Then my mind made a sudden discovery. I realized that I wasn’t afraid of marrying Charles. Not even a little bit afraid. Because I’d never get a better chance than this, and he’d never get to lay a single fucking finger on me. My internal dragon uncoiled, and roared in anticipation.
Because I was going to kill Charles Olympus on my wedding night, and I would have my revenge.
I tried to keep a lid on the excitement which roiled inside me. All I needed to do was be the good girl Adonis wanted me to be, for seven short weeks. I could do that. If it meant a night alone with his father, then I could do it.
I returned Adonis’ stare. My green eyes as cold and hard as his blue ones. “Yes, master,” I said softly.
I couldn’t be sure. But as he softly closed the door behind him, I was almost certain that he had he had wanted me to argue.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
He didn’t come back the next day. Or the day after. In fact, the only person I saw for the next two weeks was Emma. I was grateful for the time to allow my body to heal, and after nine days I was confident that I was back to full health. Yet still, Adonis didn’t come back, even as the sun began to set on the fourteenth day of his absence.
Emma was my saving grace during this time. I was pretty sure that I would have gone stir crazy in that room by myself, if she hadn’t of visited me every day—leaving me books to read during the evenings. I eagerly devoured everything she brought me, and the stories mostly helped to keep my darkest thoughts away.
It was only when I lay in bed at night that I allowed myself to fantasize about the moment that Charles would take me to his bedroom, and instruct me to remove my clothes.
Instead of doing what he asked, I would step forward—pulling the knife from where it was hidden, underneath my bridal gown—before plunging it into the side of his neck. I would stand and watch as he gurgled, and choked. Dropping to his knees on the blood soaked floor.
“That was for my father,” I would say, as he shuddered into deathly stillness on the floor.
It didn’t escape my attention that I was strangely torn between these two men—this father and son duo. I hated Charles, and I wanted to believe that I also hated his son. Adonis was the one who was responsible for stealing me away from the life which I had built from nothing, after all.
And, yet, on the nights that I let my mind wander freely. It would usually stray back to the memory of Adonis opening his arms to me; before sweeping me up, and saving me from Erebus and his friends.
Or I would remember the first time that I tried to seduce him; trying to distract him from killing me, for pulling the knife on him. He had pinned me down, and fucked me with such animalistic brutality, and yet, every single second that he was inside me had felt like I was in heaven.
Fourteen days without seeing him seemed like torture. Adonis had become an addiction, and I constantly wanted more. I had begun understand the true nature of an incubus seduction.
Over the last few days I had settled into a seriously fucked up routine, which had begun on the tenth day of my isolation. And it was starting to make me doubt my own sanity.
As I lay in bed on day ten—physically healed, and with the mental scars of my time with Erebus fading by the day—I found myself unbearably turned on. I rolled on to my side, clamping my thighs together, trying desperately to ignore the throbbing need which was growing between my legs.
Unconsciously, I had been thinking of Adonis, remembering his expert tongue on my clit; his blue eyes burning into mine. And, now I was tortured by the desperate need for a release.
When I realized the feeling wouldn’t go away on its own, I had rolled onto my back, sliding my hand down beneath the blankets. I was sleeping naked—refusing to wear
any of the underwear in my closet—and I quickly found the tiny, tingling bud which was the source of my discomfort, with the tip of my finger.
I traced circles over and around the most sensitive part of my body, and I writhed in pleasure on the bed. Imagining his face between my legs, his mouth in place of my fingers, I cried out softly. Then, slipping two fingers inside my wet folds, I found a quick rhythm which took me first to the edge of orgasm, and then beyond. All the while I imagined that it was him, inside me; fucking me hard and fast, as we both came together.
Every night since, I’d fucked myself to orgasm while imagining it was Adonis who was taking me there. And, every night after I came, I would lie in the dark and hate myself a little bit more for letting him so far inside my mind.
On my fourteenth night of solitude, I had managed to keep reading until the clock on the wall reached eleven-ten. But the need for release continued to gnaw at me; until with a long sigh, I gave up. Putting the book down on the bedside table, I slid my hand under the blanket, and gasped in delight as I found my tingling clit.
I realized that I had held out for so long, I was already soaking wet between my thighs. In one swift movement, I closed my eyes, and pushed my fingers inside myself; pretending that it was him.
I felt a sudden weight on the bed, and a large warm hand clamped over my mouth, making my eyes fly open. The hand deadened the sound of my scream in my mouth; but I stopped struggling when my eyes met the cold blue gaze of my nightly tormentor.
Adonis made a show of looking down to where the blanket peaked guiltily between my legs; lifted by the mound that was made by my hand. He looked back to me, and pressed a finger against his lips, before lifting his hand off of my mouth.
Be quiet.
I lay silent and still. My breaths coming in short, sharp pants.
Painfully slowly, he pulled the blanket away. Inch by inch exposing my naked body. He deftly straddled me, and I realized with a jolt, that he was naked also.
How long was he watching me? I blushed.
Then he leaned forward, and laid his full lips against my neck; trailing a thousand kisses down across my soft flesh. Over my collarbone he kissed, and nibbled my skin; before steadily finding his way down my body to a nipple, which was so taut that it screamed of my excitement to him.
He captured the hard peak in his mouth, and bit down hard enough to draw a small cry from me. Holding my nipple between his teeth, he shook his head back and forth.
Silence.
I bit my lip, and dug my fingers into the blankets, praying that I could keep quiet as he instructed. He traced his mouth across my chest, and sucked the opposite tip into his mouth. His hand came up and settled over the other, discarded breast. I unconsciously lifted my body from the bed, pushing against both his hand and mouth.
He smoothly made his way further down my body, trailing his soft kisses over my stomach and the curve of my pubic bone. My legs were closed, and as he reached the tight “V” between my thighs, he raised his hands, wanting to open me up to him.
Before he could lay one finger on me, I shifted, and spread my legs as far apart as I could take them. I bared everything to him, and I offered myself willingly. My green eyes stayed focused on his blue ones the entire time. Telling him, I’m yours, take me.
He needed no second urging, and he fell upon my glistening pussy with his mouth. He licked, and sucked, and swirled his tongue over my sensitive bud. Even though my legs were wide, he pressed his hands against my thighs, as though desperate to find a way to get even closer to me.
Then without warning, he pushed his tongue deep inside of me, licking me clean, and tasting my juices. I bit back a cry, and ground down with my hips, trying to take more of this man, this demon, this monster inside of me.
When he took his tongue away, I felt the loss of him keenly. But I didn’t have long to wait for more fulfilment. He raised himself on his hands and knees above me; before dropping his head down, and capturing my mouth with his.
As he pushed his tongue past my lips, I tasted my flavor in his mouth, and I knew what he wanted. My own tongue responded by snaking around his, taking back what his mouth had stolen from my body. As he kissed me—deeper than I had ever been kissed in my life—he settled his body between my legs, and positioned himself at my slick entrance.
Please? I wanted to beg. But I kept the silence he craved, and instead used my body to show him what I wanted—what I needed. I arched my back up from the bed, sliding myself a little further along his shaft. My whole being called to his, asking him to give me what I needed. And I felt his body twitch in response. Then, I braced myself for the impact of his first brutal thrust.
But the brutality never came.
He lowered himself down, oh, so slowly, inching his way inside me—taking his delicious time. His mouth never left mine, but the urgency of his kiss slowed, and his tongue was suddenly gentle against my own.
He rested his elbows at either side of my shoulders; before placing one hand on each of my cheeks. Pulling back from the kiss, he stared into my eyes with such intensity that I felt as though I had lost myself to him completely.
When he reached the full depth of me, he paused for an instant, and we both stared at each other through the dimly lit room. Neither of us spoke—there was nothing to say. All that there was, was us. Existing only within the arms of each other. Just he and I, bound in this moment together.
Adonis started to slowly and gently make love to me, and it was the most beautiful feeling I had ever experienced in my life. I had been bereft, and alone in this world since I was six-years old. Now, I finally belonged. Within those arms, I was home. I was safe. I was his.
I reached up to wrap my arms around him, and with every tentative thrust of his, I pulled him down against me. Wordlessly asking him to go deeper, and to stay inside me for longer. I arched my back from the bed, wrapping my legs around his waist, and we became entwined—our bodies moving as one. Coming together, and then parting for a brief and sorrowful instant.
My orgasm began as a tiny flame within my belly, growing slowly hotter with every movement, until there was a furnace raging inside me. He sensed my impending release, and sped up ever so slightly in an attempt to bring me to my fulfilment, and to find his own release.
Every sense was so heightened, that I could hear the blood coursing through my own veins. I could feel his heart hammering inside his chest, and I knew that we were both so close to the end. We had to reach our release together.
As the furnace within my stomach erupted into a volcano, I was overcome by pulsing waves of pleasure which tore through every single nerve in my body. I was so far gone that I couldn’t even remember my name. So, I just gave myself over to each and every wave of agonizing perfection as it came.
Adonis’ body stiffened, but he kept the rhythm between us, despite finding his own release; burying his face against the soft skin of my neck. I was surprised to hear him utter a small cry against my hair. Then I felt him twitch within me, and the warm heat of his pleasure filled me—marking me as his.
When we were completely exhausted, and all was quiet, I lay in his arms, with my head on his chest: satisfied, happy, and complete. We still didn’t speak, but he kept laying small, silent kisses against my copper hair, and one thumb absently circled the skin of my upper arm. It didn’t take very long before I fell asleep like this, wrapped in the strong arms which held me.
I woke up to darkness, just a few hours later. I was alone in the bed, and I couldn’t explain it, but I felt a cold certainty within my stomach.
The dragon within me, seemed to feel it too, and she whimpered; before hiding her head sorrowfully beneath her wing.
Tomorrow, we would return to our training. Tomorrow, we would be as master and slave. Tomorrow, none of this would matter. And what had happened earlier, would never happen again.
Tonight had been his way of saying goodbye.
Chapter Thirty
Adonis
Adonis had wai
ted until she was captured by a deep, and peaceful sleep, before he slid his arms out from around her soft, warm body. He covered her with the blanket, so that she wouldn’t get cold, before grabbing his hastily discarded pile of clothes from the floor.
When he was dressed, he gave her sleeping form a last glance; before resurrecting the cold mask of indifference on his beautiful face.
Once he stepped outside of this room, his father would be able to observe him on the house cameras, and he suspected that Charles would already be pissed off that Adonis had disappeared into eighty-eight’s room for the last two hours.
He entered his office—closing the door behind him—and picking up the cell phone he’d left on his desk. As he’d expected, there was a text message from his father.
What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing, boy? Disappear into her room like that again, and our deal is off.
He dropped his cell back onto the desk, and walked toward the single camera, which was hidden in one of the books that stood on his floor to ceiling shelving. He knew that his father would be watching him right now. Charles had the patience of an apex predator, stalking its next meal. He would have sat and studied the camera outside eighty-eight’s room until he saw his son leave.
Adonis lifted his hand toward the camera, and flipped his father the finger; before pulling the wiring out of the back of the device—instantly killing the video and audio at the other end. Smiling grimly, Adonis counted to three in his head. The desk phone rang right on cue.
Taking his time, he walked around the desk, and sat himself comfortably in his leather chair. Grabbing his whiskey—but ignoring the glass—Adonis picked up the phone.
“Hello Charles,” he said smoothly.
“What the fuck are you playing at, you little shit?” Charles snarled.
Pulling the lid off the whiskey with his teeth, Adonis spat it across the desk; before taking a long draught, straight from the bottle.
“My office is the only room which is just for me. I wanted a break from starring in your little movie.”
