CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
34
Xul
There’s a twisted beauty in tormenting Elarabeth, my exquisite flower. A rare bloom that thrives on defiance, yet withers under the touch of her deepest fear.
I meant every word when I threatened to use her most primal fear against her: snakes.
They inspire both fascination and revulsion, but Elara’s fear goes beyond mere dislike. It’s a terror she masks with practiced nonchalance, a secret her mother, Emilia, unwittingly exposed.
It became a key, a way to finally crack Elara’s carefully constructed facade. This wouldn’t be some fleeting nightmare she could wake from. It would be a living hell, a visceral manifestation of her deepest dread. And one she couldn’t escape.
“Xul, you cunning bastard,” I murmured, a dark chuckle rumbling in my chest.
A silent chuckle escapes my lips as I witness the slow-motion collapse of her composure.
The mere mention of serpents sends a tremor through her which threatens to spill a tear.
But that tear, will be crimson, a testament to the exquisite agony I’ll orchestrate. Blood would stain not just the floor, but my hands, my tongue, a coppery tang mingling with the primal musk of her fear as I ravaged her.
There would be blood until her pussy bled under my wrath. And this wrath of mine would not be gentle but a painful descent into a personal hell, a symphony of pain orchestrated for her exquisite pleasure – or rather, her exquisite demise. But it’s still pleasure.
“Don’t let it touch me,” she whimpered, the defiance finally fracturing. A pathetic whimper replacing the usual steely glint in her eyes.
Elarabeth Vance, I’m just getting started with her.
The mere mention of snakes sent a delicious tremor through me. It was like the sweetest music to my ears, a symphony of raw fear and vulnerability. Elarabeth’s voice, laced with terror, filled the air. Even before the real entertainment began, her screams were a captivating melody.
My hand drifted upwards, tracing a path from her abdomen towards the delicate column of her neck – the very source of the sustenance I craved.
Her skin flushed under my touch, and in the deepest recesses of her mind, I sensed a flicker of defiance. A futile attempt, of course. As if fleeing this precarious perch on the table were even a remote possibility.
The thought of Elarabeth, stripped of her magic and rendered utterly vulnerable, was intoxicating. Stuck here with me, no chance of a vanishing spell whisking her away. A cruel smile played on my lips. A vulnerable Elarabeth held a strange allure.
My hand, currently resting gently on her neck, felt impossibly light. Did she truly believe I would remain gentle? The need to exert control, to feel the life drain from her with each gasp for air, was a rising tide. My desire was a serpent, coiling within me, waiting to unfurl and possess her completely.
As if on cue, her thoughts flared, a ludicrous escape plan brewing. This was my cue. “Think twice about leaving this table, Elara,” I murmured, my voice a low caress. “The alternative might just involve some of your more… unpleasant nightmares.” Snakes, of course. And one thing Elara knew about me: I never made empty threats. Her defiance crumbled, replaced by a grimace. The escape plan, as flimsy as a cobweb, evaporated into dust.
A low tremor ran through Elarabeth as the words left her lips. “Xul, please,” she rasped, desperation lacing her voice. “I’ll do anything you ask. Absolutely anything. Just... don’t involve snakes.” Her voice cracked with a tremor that almost elicited sympathy. Almost.
“Drowning you while I fuck you? Acceptable.” she choked out, the words a desperate plea on the verge of a sob. “Just no snakes.”
The desperation in her plea, the pathetic attempt at a bargain, was almost comical. Her fear was a tangible entity in the space, thick and suffocating. But the thought of her willing to accept drowning, but not snakes, only fueled my desire to torment her further.
“Then you’re ready,” I purred, the response a far cry from what she craved. But what could be more fun than torturing Elarabeth Vance, if not with her greatest fear? Anything else would bore me to death. The gods knew how long I’d dreamt of this moment, of Elarabeth at my mercy. The way I craved to strip her bare, the cold steel of my blade whispering against her throat, a single twitch away from drawing blood while we fucked.
Back then, I’d yearned to unleash my fury upon her, but fate had other plans.
Now, however, she was mine, bound by my magic. She wouldn’t leave here unscathed.
A strangled plea escaped her lips. “Please,” she rasped, the word grating from her. Apology never suited Elarabeth.
The moment I’d sent that summons, a thinly veiled command for her presence, I knew this day would come.
The heavens themselves could bear witness to the machinations brewing within me.
Elarabeth Vance would fall. She would relive, in excruciating detail, the torment she’d inflicted upon me. The depths of my suffering all those years ago were unspeakable, but one thing was certain – she would endure them. She would writhe under my wrath, and in the end, Elarabeth Vance would kneel before my cock.
“You know those words hold no sway over me,” I growled, my fingers tightening around her throat just enough to restrict her airflow. This was the shit I craved, the control and fear radiating from her. “Last words, Sweetheart?” My tone was a silken threat.
Elara, with a defiant glint in her eyes, met my gaze. She knew words were futile against me. Instead, she contorted her face in a mask of disgust, her silent rebellion. “You’ll regret this,” she hissed, the threat laced with venom. But the unspoken command that curled silently through the air sent shivers down her spine. Snakes. They slithered into view, their sinuous bodies winding around the table legs, a silent symphony of scales scraping wood. Her defiance faltered as the cold touch of their presence reached here. “I mean it, Xulin Vimic,” she hissed.
I chuckled, a dark rumble in my chest. Elarabeth Vance, always the queen of empty threats. “After this, my exquisite Elara,” I purred, my tongue darting across my lips, “I’m particularly curious about the details of your vengeance.”
“Don’t you dare ‘Elara’ me, you bastard! You’re—” Her defiance fractured into a shriek as one, then two serpents had breached the table’s surface, exploring the soft flesh of her abdomen. “Alright, alright! I take it all back! Just get these damned things off me! I’m going to die!” Her previous bravado crumbled entirely, replaced by raw terror. My grin widened, a predator savoring the shift in power.
“Of pleasure, El!” I corrected with a smirk, savoring her capitulation.
“Are you out of your damned mind, Xul?” She rasped, her voice tight and restrained. “There’s nothing inherently… pleasurable...” She trailed off as another serpent slithered sinuously up her arm, eliciting a flinch. She knew, with a chilling certainty, that any sudden movement would send the rickety table tumbling – and her with it. “Please,” she hissed, a tremor lacing her voice. “Get it off me.”
Instinctively, I withdrew my hand from her throat, the phantom warmth of her skin lingering on my fingertips. A slow smile played on my lips. “This,” I purred, “is just the beginning, Elarabeth.”
Her honey eyes flared with disgust. “Wh-what…” she stammered, the word thick with contempt.
“Let’s play a little game while we get started,” I suggested, my tone smooth as silk.
“There’s no ‘we’ in this game,” she spat, defiance flickering in her defiance. “And I certainly don’t recall consenting to be… tormented by these…” she choked on the word, her face contorting in revulsion.
“The moment you allowed me in, Elarabeth,” I said, my voice dropping to a husky whisper, “the game became a shared endeavor.”
She scoffed, a harsh, humorless sound. “Shared? Right.”
“A simple game, truly,” I continued, savoring the defiance in her eyes.
“Simple? Hardly!” she spat back. “And what’s my reward in this little game of yours? Oh, wait, let me guess – torture?”
A slow smile spread across my face. “Pleasure, Elara,” I corrected, my voice smooth as velvet. “Though you seem to be confusing it with something far less pleasurable.”
Elara’s jaw clenched tight. “Using snakes as aphrodisiacs? Now that’s a new low, even for you.”
“Pleasure is subjective,” I countered, my voice a low rumble. “What terrifies you, Elarabeth, might very well arouse you.”
“Well, it arouses you, but it’s torturous to me,” she shot back.
A strangled laugh almost escaped me. “Alright, sweetheart. Since you’re so keen on throwing around the word ‘torture,’ let me enlighten you on what it truly means.” My hand snaked up, finding purchase in her hair. A subtle twist elicited a wince.
“Torture,” I growled, voice a low rumble, “is a viper clinging to your most sensitive flesh, slithering where only I should be.” Her gasp was sharp, punctuated by a flicker of fear in her eyes. “Torture,” I continued, voice dropping to a husky whisper, “is that same serpent coiling around your throat, constricting with every desperate gasp as I fuck you with relentless abandon, forcing you climax on my own terms.” The grip on her hair tightened further, eliciting a muffled moan that sent a delicious tremor through me. “Torture,” I finished, voice hard with barely contained desire, “is where one writhes in agony while the other basks in the throes of ecstasy.”
Her gaze locked with mine, a single tear glistening on her cheek. Was she trembling for me already? And I hadn’t even begun.
A cruel smile played on my lips. “Now, my exquisite flower,” I murmured, savoring the tremor in her body, “since you’re so keen on the word, choose your poison. One of these exquisite tortures will be your delightful reward.”
Her eyes widened in terror. “Oh no... No no no no, Xul!” she stammered, her voice trembling.
“Or perhaps,” I leaned in closer, my voice a husky threat, “I can offer you a taste of all three.”
Internally, a fire roared in my loins. This, this was how you threatened someone. Not with empty barks, but with the promise of a pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
Words were weapons, and in my hands, they were turning the tables.
All this posturing, this dominance play, it was arousing, a prelude to the inferno I intended to unleash in that very place I’d fantasized about for so long – a hell on earth, scorching hot and entirely ours.
“I don’t want to choose. In fact, I choose none. All of this is crazy. You’re crazy, Xul,” she spat, her voice laced with defiance.
“So, you’d prefer I choose for you?” I challenged as I couldn’t help but smirk at the “crazy” label she’d slapped on me. Fine. I’d show her crazy. I could have her gasping, blood blooming on her skin from my forceful touch, right here, right now. That would be true madness.
“No!” she shrieked, the tremor in her voice a delicious counterpoint to the defiance.
“Then what do you choose?” I pressed.
“You leave me with no choice!” she cried, frustration coloring her cheeks.
“Very well. Decide. I’m getting impatient.” I murmured, my grip on her hair loosening for a fleeting moment before tightening again. I yanked a thick strand, forcing her face closer to mine. “What will it be?” My breath mingled with hers, hot and heavy.
“I’m still thinking...” she pleaded, voice strained.
I couldn’t resist. My lips slammed onto hers, a bruising kiss that spoke volumes of my simmering desire. Gods, I yearned to sink my freaking fangs in, to taste the forbidden nectar that pulsed beneath her skin. I was like a starved man presented with a feast, Elarabeth the most tempting morsel I’d ever encountered.
“There’s nothing to think about, El,” I growled against her mouth, hunger twisting my gut. The scent of her blood, sweet and intoxicating, filled my senses, even through the haze of passion. I could almost taste it on my lips, so close yet so tantalizingly out of reach. But restraint held me back. Her blood comes with climax under her torment, and climax is what I intend for her.
My explanation, I daresay, offered scant opportunity for contemplation. It was deliberately designed to leave no room for ambiguity. A straightforward response, that’s all I desired.
Her answer hung in the air, a twisted choice between three. One: I possess her with the chilling presence of the snake slithering against her skin. Two: a shared violation, both the serpent and I claiming her. Three: a brutal dance of pain as I take her, the agony fueling the encounter. Ultimately, they all led to the same destination – my mouth slick with the evidence of her release.
Impatience clawed at me as I waited for her decision. Then, her voice, breathless between my kisses on her lower lip rose, “The first one...”
A dangerous smirk tugged at my lips. Did she knows what she’d chose? Clearly not. I paused, savoring the anticipation in her eyes. “Torture number one, huh?” I growled, my voice a low rumble. My kiss returned, deeper this time, a fiery exploration as I growled between our lips, “Torture number one commences now.”
Just as my lips were about to return, the snakes slithered, their bodies finding purchase on Elara’s arm. Her breath hitched in a shudder, a primal repulsion against their cold touch.
The “torture,” as she called it with a strained emphasis, was about to begin.
Just as the serpents began to tighten their grip, her voice, strangled but defiant, cut through the tension. “Before you commence your little ‘torture,’ ” she emphasized the word with a sardonic twist, “I require some light.”
“Light is unnecessary, Elara,” I countered, my voice a low rumble. “Your own imagination should be the most potent aphrodisiac.”
“I insist,” she pressed, her voice strained. “I need to see the face of the sadist who finds pleasure in tormenting me with serpents.”
“If that’s what you truly want, then very well, Elarabeth,” I conceded, my voice husky, returning to our kisses. This time, they were gentle, a stark contrast to the raw hunger clawing its way out of me. “But this vision...” I murmured between breaths, “it might haunt you.”
Unspoken words hung heavy in the air as my lips grazed hers, my desire a drowning tide.
Gods, all I craved was to fill her with the heat of me.
With a flick of will, I conjured three lanterns. They hovered high above us, casting an unnatural red glow. It was a reflection of the dangerous hunger consuming us both.
The crimson light glinted off her molten honey eyes, transforming her from a princess into a queen of shadows, a creature of untamed desire. Me, the devil to her angel. I, the god. The master.
Then I noticed a flicker of unease in her dulled eyes. “You don’t like it?”
A hesitant nod was her reply. “No...”
“You asked for light,” I said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “And I gave you one.”
“Red isn’t my happy color,” she choked out, the vulnerability in her voice ripping a hole through my chest.
“Red defines us, Elara,” I said, the words heavy on my tongue. “More importantly...” I trailed off, the hunger twisting in my gut. “It’s the color of your blood.”
Unable to resist any longer, I leaned in and nipped at her bottom lip, the taste of salt and fear intoxicating. The hunger was a wildfire, consuming everything in its path.
“Xul, what the hell—” Elarabeth’s words died in her throat, strangled by the serpents I conjured around her wrists. My vision blurred, not with tears, but with a crimson hunger that gnawed at my insides.
The scent of her blood, a heady mix of forbidden fruit and summer rain, filled my senses.
It was the very essence life itself, rich and intoxicating, the very thing I craved.
This was the essence I longed to lose myself in, the forbidden wellspring she stubbornly kept from me.
Now, for a stolen moment, it was mine.
All mineeee.
The vitae that flowed into me was pure, untouched – a testament to her sheltered life. A cruel twist of fate, for it wouldn’t remain that way for long. She reveled in the stolen intimacy, yet despised the tremor of pleasure that ran through her. It was a dance we’d performed countless times before, a waltz of denial and forbidden desire.
The moment my lips tore away from hers, a primal roar echoed within my soul.
It was the beast awakened, the insatiable hunger now a possessive inferno. I had tasted Elarabeth, and claiming her was no longer a desire, but a primal necessity. She wouldn’t vanish again, leaving me adrift in this soul-sucking emptiness. Not this time. No fucking way.