Wicked Charming Cruel

by Emmy Chandler

  “Thank you.” Yet she turned away from the garden and wandered into the kitchen, where she seemed startled to see her handmaid waiting in the doorway that lead to the servant’s own small bedroom. “Annah! I didn’t realize you were here.”

  “I’ve been helping with the arrangements all day,” the maid said. “I hope they’re to your liking.”

  “They’re lovely,” Maari said, and though she’d said virtually the same thing to Jude, the sentiment seemed much more sincere—and warmer—when she addressed her servant. Her focus traveled over the cabinets and the refrigerator. “Is there… Is there food?”

  “A limited selection,” Jude told her. “Your maid sent a list of groceries, and I approved everything that wouldn’t require heat or knives to prepare.”

  “It’s mostly fresh fruit,” Annah added.

  Maari exhaled slowly. “You think I’ll try to hurt myself.”

  “Because you threatened to do that very thing. I’ve decided to take the threat seriously.” At least until she had a child, whom she would presumably feel obligated to protect. “There’s a guest bath down here.” Jude motioned toward a closed door off of the living room. “And the maid’s room has a small restroom of its own. Of course, both rooms upstairs also have facilities attached, and all of the linens and household supplies have been fully stocked. Annah will deliver your things to the central laundry daily. If you need anything else, just let me or one of my brothers know, and I’ll make sure you get it. Within reason. But none of the other servants will have access to your suite without special permission.”

  “Thank you.” But Jude could tell she was hardly listening. “What’s through there?” Maari gestured to the double doors at the back of the living area, opposite the tall wall of windows.

  “That leads into the first-floor corridor. Those doors will be kept locked, as will the one upstairs.”

  “There are two entrances?”

  Jude nodded. “This was originally two separate spaces, renovated years ago into a two-story apartment.”

  “And is that—” Maari suddenly darted across the kitchen and knelt in front of a small, temperature-controlled cabinet with glass doors. “Wine.” She tried to open the cabinet, to get to the selection of cabernets, pino noirs, and merlots on display, but the door wouldn’t budge. “It’s locked. Why would you give me wine, but lock it up?” She turned to give him a look of betrayal.

  “Because opening a bottle requires a corkscrew—”

  “And I could use that as a weapon.” She stood, and her frown was almost adorable. “I could use the bottle as a weapon too, you know.”

  “I am aware. You may have wine, within reason, whenever one of us is here to open the cabinet and remove the cork.”

  “Now?” Her eyes lit up with the possibility. “You’re here now. Did you bring a—?”

  Jude smiled as he pulled a small folding corkscrew from his pocket. “I will open one for you, if you will share it with me.”

  “Yes. Fine. Unlock it. The thing that truly makes my captivity feel uncivilized, other than the lack of clothing, is the lack of wine.”

  “Well, both of those have been remedied today. At least for the moment.” Jude tapped an icon on his com device, and the wine cabinet popped open. “Pick whichever one you’d like,” he said, as he took two glasses from an upper shelf.

  Maari selected a cabernet, but instead of following Jude toward the staircase, she took down a third glass. “For Annah,” she said, when he arched one brow at her.

  Jude frowned, but then he set the glasses down and uncorked the bottle on the kitchen counter.

  “I’m surprised you let me have glasses,” Maari said as she half-filled one of them and handed it to Annah.

  “Thank you,” the maid said.

  “You may take it to your room,” Jude told her sternly, and the maid nodded, then disappeared into her small private quarters. “The glasses are shatterproof, as is the front of the wine cabinet, every mirror in the apartment, and all of the windows.” He slid the corkscrew into his pocket and picked up the bottle, then motioned for her to follow him with the glasses. “Shall we?”

  Maari followed him upstairs and set the glasses on the coffee table in front of the small sofa. While she settled onto the left-hand cushion, tucking one leg beneath her, he poured them each a generous serving. As he sat, he handed one of the glasses to her.

  She immediately took a long sip, and her eyes closed as she processed the simple pleasure. “Thank you. It’s wonderful.”

  “I’m glad.” He couldn’t resist a smile as he watched her. “So, how was your day in the garden?”

  She opened her eyes to frown at him. “Do we have to talk? Can’t we just enjoy the wine in silence?”

  Jude cocked his head at her. “I remember a time when you practically begged me for conversation.”

  “Fine. Let’s talk about my day.” She took another long sip. “You know Malac is trying to seduce me, right?”

  Jude snorted. “I am aware.”

  “Are you also aware that it won’t work?”

  “I am.”

  “But you’re going to let him try?”

  “He wouldn’t be dissuaded. And he isn’t ready to hear that he doesn’t stand a chance.”

  She drained her glass while she thought about that. “But you think you do?”

  “I suffer no such delusion,” he assured her, careful not to let a bitter note leak into his voice.

  “Yet you still hope to get me pregnant.” Maari scooted to the edge of the sofa, and against his better judgment, Jude watched her pour what remained of the wine into her glass. “So what’s your plan?” She scooted back, already sipping again.

  “You’re a smart woman. I’m betting you’ll see the wisdom in your cooperation, and I don’t think you’re going to need Malac’s manipulations in order to get there.”

  “The wisdom. What wisdom?”

  “You’re here to save lives, right?”

  “Yes. The million-plus people in Stead Delayne. The people you threatened to slaughter, if I didn’t give myself to you. They are the only reason I’m here.”

  Jude nodded as he set his glass—still virtually untouched—on the coffee table, preparing for the inevitable hysterics that would follow his announcement. “How worried do you think they would be right now, if they knew how badly you were failing them?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m here. I spread my legs for you three every fucking day.”

  “That’s only part of your obligation. What did you agree to, that day in Saintton, Maari? What did you tell the council you would do, to save those lives?”

  “I agreed to give you my body, and I have.”

  “You agreed to be our concubine and our…?” Jude held her gaze, silently insisting that she finish the sentence for herself. That she admit to her breach of contract.

  “Your breeder,” she whispered, as fear slowly rolled over her features.

  “Yes. And if you fail to give that last part of yourself to us—if you refuse to truly accept our seed—I will have no choice but to tell the council that you’ve abnegated your responsibility. That you’ve thrown Stead Delayne to the wolves.”

  “You’re the wolves!” Maari cried, her hand clenching around the unbreakable stem of her glass.

  “Indeed. You agreed to this, Maari. You agreed to be bred by us. If you don’t let that happen—if you don’t give us a child, soon—I will consider this a forfeiture of your part in the peace accord. I will send the allied army to march across Bannon and destroy your homeland.”

  Horror took over her features. “You don’t mean that.”

  Jude took her glass, empty for a second time, and set it on the table next to his. Then he took her chin and made her look right into his eyes. “Try me.”

  She jerked free of his grip and scooted back until her spine hit the arm of the small sofa. “You’d kill more than a million people if I don’t get pregnant?”

  “Getting you
pregnant is our job. I’ll kill more than a million people if you don’t at least give us a fair chance at that.”

  “Why?” Her horror seemed to leak straight from its source, in her soul.

  The whole truth—it wasn’t so much that he wanted her pregnant as that he wanted to avoid the consequence of not having her pregnant—wasn’t something he wished to share with Maari at the moment. So he told her another truth. “Because you are mine, and I will have every…single…part of you.”

  5

  Maari

  “You’re serious.” Maari stared into Jude’s ice-blue eyes, looking for any sign that he was bluffing. She found none.

  “As serious as your obligation to us is.”

  “That’s absurd. That’s…monstrous. You’re a monster.” She grabbed his still full glass from the table and gulped from it.

  Jude pried the glass from her hand, and some of the wine sloshed over the rim to ruin the white background of her new floral dress. “I don’t want you drunk.”

  “I don’t want you at all,” she spat at him.

  “We both know that isn’t true.”

  “It is.” It was both true and false, at the same time. She wanted him, and she hated him. “Give me the glass.”

  “No.”

  “You just told me that if I don’t get pregnant, you’re going to kill a million people. That’s a lot of pressure to put on one set of ovaries, Jude. Give me the fucking glass, and go open another bottle.”

  He sighed. Then he handed the glass back to her.

  Maari gulped the entire thing without taking a breath, desperate for the numbness that would come with intoxication. Then she stood, and on her way to the stairs, she wobbled on her feet.

  Jude lurched after her and slid into her path, blocking the way. “Where are you going?”

  “For more wine.” Maari tried to push past him, but he scooped her up in both arms.

  “You’ve had quite enough.” Instead of leading her back to the sitting area, he carried her into the beautiful taupe and gold bedroom, and as he laid her on the massive four-post bed, her anger melted into wine-saturated tears of frustration.

  “You ruin everything. It was such a perfect day,” she sobbed as Jude slid her shoes from her feet and dropped them on the floor.

  “You were right.” He pulled his shirt off and dropped it next to her shoes. “I am a monster.”

  “Go away.”

  “No.” Next to go were his shoes, and when he dropped his pants, freeing a huge, throbbing erection, Maari scooted backward across the bed, away from him. But he caught her ankle and pulled her back, her skirt riding up behind her on the thick new comforter.

  “Please. I’m still sore from last night,” she sobbed. “I don’t want—”

  “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” Jude pushed her skirt up and spread her legs, and as he stared down at her sex, pleased that Malac hadn’t given her any underwear, his erection grew even thicker.

  “But you said—”

  “I know what I said. I’m going back on my own word tonight. Just this once.” He ran one hand slowly up her thigh, and Maari quivered under his surprisingly tender touch. “But after that, if you still insist that you won’t be bred, you’d better get used to having my cock in your ass. Because pregnant or not, you will still be my concubine.” He slid two fingers inside her, and his thumb began to gently circle her clit. “And there will be very stiff consequences for your refusal to cooperate. Long before I’m forced to report your rebellion to the council.”

  Sniffling, Maari tried to twist away from him, but his free hand clamped down on her other thigh, pinning it to the bed. Holding her wide open while he stroked into her. And to her unending frustration, she felt moisture begin to gather around his fingers as her passage swelled around him from increased blood flow.

  “That’s all you,” Jude whispered, a groan riding the words as his fingers arched up inside her. “The effects of my bite have worn off. That would have been true a month ago, if you hadn’t been bitten by all three of us at once. Tonight, you aren’t wet because of my bite. You’re wet because you want me.”

  She shook her head, her hair snagging on the comforter. “It’s a defense mechanism. My body would rather feel pleasure than pain.”

  “I think Orlann would disagree with you on that point.”

  “Fuck Orlann.”

  Jude chuckled. Then he withdrew his hand and tugged her into a seated position, her legs dangling from the side of the mattress. But when he tried to pull the dress over her head, her eyes filled with tears and she clutched at the material.

  “Don’t.” Her knuckles turned white as she fought his grip, trying to keep the dress. “Everything you want from me is already accessible. Just do it, then get out.”

  “I want you naked.” Jude grabbed the low neckline of her off-the shoulder dress in both hands and ripped it, the muscles in his arms standing out with the effort.

  “No!” Maari shrieked as the material tore asymmetrically to her waist, exposing one bare breast. She clutched at the ruined fabric. “I love this dress. Malac made me earn it,” she sobbed, her words slushy with both tears and wine. “You ruin everything!”

  “The dress was already ruined, from the wine sloshed on it.” Jude took another double handful of material and ripped the skirt all the way to the hem, then he pulled it free of her body and dropped it on the floor. “I will get you a new dress.”

  “I don’t want anything from you!” Maari kicked him in the stomach, and while he stumbled backward, caught off-guard, she scrambled off the other side of the bed and ran for the door. But three glasses in, she lacked both coordination and speed, and Jude was suddenly there in front of her, closing the door. Standing in front of it.

  This time when he reached for her, she let him pull her into a tearful embrace, because there was no real way to avoid it. Jude always won. He always got what he wanted. “You kicked me,” he murmured into her ear as he stroked long, dark hair down her back.

  “You ruined my life,” she sobbed into his chest.

  “Well, I guess that’s true. So I’ll let it go this time. But if you kick me again, can you guess what I’m going to do?”

  “Put your cock in my ass?” She tried to push her way out of his embrace, but he held her tight.

  “Well, that’s not a bad idea, but I was going to say that I’ll have to restrain you.” He shrugged. “But maybe I’ll do both.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, come be a good girl, before I lose patience with my poor, drunk little princess.”

  Jude picked her up again and carried her across the room, over a floor littered with discarded clothing, to lay her on the bed. This time he crawled over her, settling between her thighs, and he claimed her mouth as he slid inside her slowly. Gently.

  Maari groaned into his mouth, sucking greedily on his tongue when his pelvis brushed her clit. Her hips arched up to meet him, elongating his slow strokes as his chest scraped against her breasts with every motion.

  “Why are you only like this when I cry?” she asked when he finally gave up her lips.

  “Shhh…” Jude nudged her chin to the side as his hips pistoned slowly, and he sucked her earlobe into his mouth, his breath a series of warm, soft puffs sending chills down the length of her neck.

  “I mean it. Why are you only nice to me in bed when I’m crying?”

  “Because you don’t fight me.” He slid one hand beneath her knee and opened her further so he could thrust deeper.

  “If I stop fighting, you’ll be nice all the time?”

  Jude lifted himself so that he could look down at her, holding himself as deep inside her as he could go. “You know I can’t be nice all the time.”

  She nodded, blinking back more tears. “And you know I won’t stop fighting.”

  “That’s part of what I love about you princess. But for tonight, let’s do this the easy way. Let me be a nice guy. Come for me, Maari,” he said, and she groaned as her body b
egan to tighten around him with a familiar pleasant tension. “Come around my cock, and let me fill you up. Don’t you want that?”

  “Yes,” she groaned. So he stroked into her harder. Faster. He drew soft little gasps from her with every thrust. Every brush of her clit. “Jude…gods, please.” She was so close. She just needed—

  He slammed into her again, as his cock swelled inside her. “Come for me, Maari. Without the bite. Without pain. Just you and me. Come for me.”

  One more thrust, and she fell over the edge with an obscene moan, muscles spasming around him as her hands clutched at him. As tremors of extasy rolled through her.

  Jude came with a groan, shooting inside her, shoving himself as deep as he could go, again and again.

  Afterward, he lay next to her, propped on one elbow as he stared down at her. Maari tried to turn her head, but he grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. “Tell me you’ll make use of what I just gave you, Maari. Tell me you will lie here on your back and focus on conceiving. Swear it.”

  “I can’t. I—”

  He let go of her chin and his hand trailed down to cup her right breast, kneading gently. “You can. You told me you can choose to conceive, even if you’re not in love.” He leaned down and took her nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, his tongue undulating against the sensitive peak. “So choose to,” he murmured against the side of her breast. “Make use of that beautiful nursery. Give yourself the child you know you want. Save all those precious Stead Delayne lives.”

  “You would really kill them?”

  Jude rose again, staring down into her eyes, but the ice she expected to find in the crystalline blue depths of his was not there. Instead, she found fire. Vicious blue fire, flaring like the hottest part of a candle flame. “I will kill every last one of them, Maari.” His hand trailed possessively over her breast to spread out across her flat stomach, as if he could will her to conceive. “Unless you give me what I want.”