31. SURRENDER
Chapter thirty-one
SURRENDER
Vladya surveyed the sight before him, satisfied. Aekeira lay bound to his bed, naked, tied securely by the ropes that held her wrists to the headboard, her legs spread wide for him.
Her skin glowed in the dim light. She was breathtaking.
The voices in his head roared, but he forced them into the background. Lust clouded his mind, his dick so hard it ached. He wanted to bury himself deep inside that warm heat calling out to him.
But first.
Vladya moved to the dresser, rummaging through the drawers until his fingers closed around the familiar handle of a sturdy whip.
He had fantasized about this moment more times than he could count, imagining how it would feel to finally wield it against a skin. To simply let go and watch the beautiful trails of blood.
Aekeira made a small sound, her wide eyes trailing his every movement. Fear was there, but also... trust.
And those lips. Full, pouty, and painted with a deep red that seemed to beg for his dick.
The whip could wait.
Vladya let it fall to the floor with a soft thud, his focus shifting entirely to her. Climbing onto the bed, he positioned himself beside her, his face hovering inches from hers. His hand shot out, gripping her hair, holding her head in place, he crashed his mouth onto hers in a kiss that was filthy, raw, and utterly unrestrained. He took her thoroughly, pouring his frustration, his hunger, his need into it.
He devoured her mouth, showing her how he would soon take her body, swallowing her gasps.
When he finally pulled away, her eyes were glazed over, lips red and swollen. The tension drained from her, leaving her pliant beneath him. Vladya couldn’t help but growl softly.
Aekeira was unbelievably sexy. The sight of her now, at his mercy and so aroused, did things to him. Wicked, wicked things.
And he needed to fuck that mouth.
Undressing quickly, his clothes fell away one by one until Vladya lay naked beside her. Rising above Aekeira, he straddled her face, his fingers slipping beneath her head to cradle it, lifting her.
“Open,” he ordered softly.
Aekeira blushed a fiery red, parting her lips. Slowly, he fed her his manhood, groaning as his length disappeared into the warmth of her mouth.
He pushed deeper, and she choked a little. Vladya didn't ease up, staying there, forcing her to feel him in her throat and adjust to him. Aekeira couldn’t take all of him, but he didn’t mind.
When Vladya mounted her, he would make sure she took every inch. For now, he was content.
Pulling back a bit, Vladya allowed his shaft to slip out to the tip, hovering just above her parted lips. Then, he pressed forward again, captivated by her mouth stretching wide to accommodate his fat dick, the flushed color of her cheeks, her soft little chokes, and those wide brown eyes. He was entranced. Addicted .
"I’m going to fuck your mouth now.” Arousal and need pounded through him. “I will wreck your throat, fast and hard, push your limits, and probably get carried away. But if it becomes too much, if you can’t handle it, yank your bound hands twice. Do you hear me?"
Aekeira hesitated, then nodded.
Pulling back, he slammed into her again. And again. And again.
Vladya fucked her mouth the way he had always wanted. His greedy eyes took in every detail of her face. His hand buried in her silky hair tightened as he pushed further in until he was buried in her throat. Fuck!
Aekeira gagged, her eyes watering.
“Take it,” Vladya hissed, pleasure coursing through him as he felt her throat constrict around him. “Come on.”
Thrusting harder, faster, he watched tears well in her eyes, spilling over her cheeks. Her nose flared with each breath, her body writhing beneath him.
Sensation flooded his entire being. It didn't feel as he had hoped. It felt better .
The damned voices in his head had gone quiet, his beast humming with satisfaction.
Vladya couldn’t help it, so he took, and took, and took. His breath became ragged, thighs shaking with the force of his hunger. His balls pulled tight. Fuck, he was about to release.
Releasing her hair, Vladya stroked her forehead tenderly as he fucked in again. "I’m going to come in your mouth. Swallow every last drop."
The flush on her face traveled down to her neck. So adorable.
With one final thrust, he held himself deep, feeling her soft, muffled cries vibrating around him. Vladya's hand drifted lower, grazing over her breast, pinching her nipple.
A tremor moved through over her body, her throat tightening, sucking , on him. The sensation sent him over the edge.
Vladya spurted with a low, drawn-out moan, tensing as he emptied down her throat, utter bliss cascading through him. She swallowed as much as she could, and when he pulled back, the rest splashed over her face, neck, and hair.
Seeing her covered in his semen was a whole new level of satisfaction. Aekeira was so hot.
He caressed her cheek, and whispered, "Good girl."
It didn’t escape Vladya's notice that his voice was still deeper than usual, his instincts more beast than male. But for the first time in days, Vladya felt better. Hell, he felt better just by having Aekeira here with him.
Rising, he stepped off the bed, standing at the foot to survey her again. Her musk hung heavy in the air, but the sight of her dripping womanhood from that angle was even better.
"Looks like someone enjoyed having her throat wrecked," he drawled, staring pointedly at her swollen clit, rosy peak nipples, and trembling thighs.
Aekeira whimpered shyly and squeezed her eyes shut.
Chuckling, he arranged a wet cloth and wiped her face, hair and neck clean, before he picked up the discarded whip.
Aekeira's eyes snapped open, that look of dread returning.
Aekeira felt like she was on fire. Her jaws ached, and her throat felt well-used. But she was so aroused, even the soft breeze seemed too much on her sensitive skin. Aekeira was ready for anything he wanted.
Until his hand reached for the whip again.
Her eyes fixed on the sturdy whip Lord Vladya held, and a wave of apprehension rolled through her. She tried her best to stay calm, forcing herself to breathe evenly. When he raised the whip, her heart skipped a beat, and she squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the strike.
Where would it land, her thighs, her stomach, or where she was even more vulnerable…
A helpless cry escaped her lips. She tried to squeeze her legs together, but the bounds stopped her. Aekeira waited, tense, expecting the blow.
But it never came.
Slowly, she opened her eyes. Vladya was watching her, his brows furrowed in deep thought. The whip had lowered, hanging limply in his hand as if his will to strike had vanished.
"I'm... confused," Vladya muttered, almost to himself. Conflicted. “There are so many voices in my head—all screaming, all telling me how to hurt and destroy. But when it comes down to it, when I raise the whip on you, they fall silent.”
Bewilderment was evident in his voice. "He wanted this, the beast. But when I raise the whip... the urge disappears . Replaced by this need to protect you.”
Aekeira blinked at him, trying to make sense of his words. She didn’t fully understand. Not what he was saying, nor what it meant for them.
"The urge is still there. I still want to use it," he said, his grip on the whip tightening. "But not on you." Yellow flashed in his dark, wild eyes. "Tell me someone who has hurt you."
Aekeira’s heart raced. "I-I..." Her mind blanked as she struggled to process his demand.
"Give me a name," Lord Vladya growled through gritted teeth, as if he were barely holding back the storm. He looked savage, feral, and deeply enraged. "Who has hurt you recently? Give me someone on whom I can unleash this darkness inside me."
A name surfaced in her mind before she could stop it. "Slavemaster Tyke," she blurted out. Then immediately regretted it, biting her lip. "Forget I said anything—"
Vladya’s expression darkened further. His voice was icy, controlled. "Was it before or after the warning I issued him?"
"Lord Vladya…” Aekeira tried to avoid his gaze. She knew the dangers too well—slaves who reported slavemasters or soldiers often found themselves in even more perilous situations. She had learned that lesson from Amie. There was never true safety in speaking out.
"Was it before or after?" he snapped.
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. "After. But—"
Lord Vladya grabbed the discarded sheet and threw it over her, covering her exposed body. "Yaz!" he barked, his voice reverberating off the stone walls of the chamber. “Get in here. Now.”
The soldier entered, and Aekeira turned her face to the side, swallowing her sound of embarrassment at being caught in such a humiliating position.
Yaz, however, remained stoic. His eyes fixed forward, his voice as emotionless as always. “Yes, My Lord?”
“Bring me Tyke,” Lord Vladya commanded, his tone as sharp as the whip he clutched tightly. “Right this instant.”
When the door opened once more, Yaz entered, the slavemaster Tyke trailing nervously behind. Glancing around the room in confusion, he cleared his throat. “My Lord, y-you sent for me...?”
Vladya stopped his pacing, turning his full attention to the slavemaster. “Kneel, Tyke.”
Tyke dropped to his knees.
“You’ve earned a reputation as one of the best masters in the fortress,” Lord Vladya said smoothly. “And for that, I have chosen to give you an honor. You will be on the receiving end of this whip. What do you have to say to that?”
Tyke’s throat bobbed. His gaze locked with Aekeira's on the bed, and a resentful glare contorted his features. Then, he looked up at Lord Vladya, puffing out his chest. "It will be an honor. As My Lord wishes."
Lord Vladya positioned himself, and the first crack of the whip sliced through the air. Followed by another, and another.
Slavemaster Tyke tried to stifle his cries, but after the fourth lash, he was openly screaming.
Aekeira tried to count the lashes but lost track after thirty. Deep welts and bruises crisscrossed his back, each strike leaving a fresh mark.
Lord Vladya showed no mercy, his arm rising and falling with unrestrained power. Tyke’s flesh became a raw, bloody mess.
By the gods. Is this what was meant for her? Aekeira shuddered. No wonder he had warned her, urged her to run.
Unable to bear the sight any longer, she buried her head in the silken sheets, her body wracked with tremors at every strike. Arousal waned, leaving her cold despite the warmth of the sheets around her.
Finally, the strokes ceased. Only the slavemaster’s whimpers and ragged breaths remained.
Tentatively, she lifted her head, peeking out from beneath the sheets. Slavemaster Tyke lay crumpled on the floor, his body battered and bleeding.
Lord Vladya crouched before him, lifting the man’s chin casually, forcing him to meet his eyes.
“I lied, Tyke,” Lord Vladya said calmly. “This is not an honor strike. This is a punishment.”
He nodded toward Aekeira, who flinched at the acknowledgment. “You hurt her.” His hand caressed a trail of blood from the slavemaster’s cheek. “The next time you do, I will have your colleagues whip you in front of the entire square, where every slave and master alike will witness it. Do you want that?”
Slavemaster Tyke’s eyes went wide, terror flashing across his face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “No, Your Highness. Please, I swear on my life it will never happen again!”
“From today onward, you are responsible for her protection,” Lord Vladya continued coolly. “Ensure that none of the other slavemasters mistreat, overwork, or even look at her the wrong way. If I receive even a whisper of a single complaint… you will answer for it. Do you understand?”
Slave Master Tyke bristled. “B-but, My Lord, it’s not something I can control, it—"
Lord Vladya’s brows ascended to his hairline. “Did you just question my orders?”
He shook his head so hard it was a wonder how it remained attached to his shoulder. “I will guard her with my life! Your command is my duty, My Lord.”
Lord Vladya straightened. “Get out.”
The slavemaster scrambled to his feet, and scurried out, leaving them alone once more.
As Lord Vladya turned to face her, some of the wildness that burned in his eyes dimmed. He must have read something in her expression because his face went blank.
Without a word, he moved around the bed, untying the knots that bound her wrists and ankles. Aekeira barely noticed the immediate relief from the pressure, all her attention focused on him.
Once he freed her, he turned away, throwing a command over his shoulder. "Go."
She sat up, watching him disappear into an adjoining room. Part of her was relieved by his order.
On one hand, Aekeira truly did want to run after witnessing, a show of that lurking violence in his gray eyes. He had told her before, she had known this would happen, but there was a difference between knowing and knowing .
On the other hand, a larger part of her wanted to hold him. To hug him close to her chest.
Aekeira didn’t believe he had punished Slavemaster Tyke simply as an outlet for his violence. There were countless prisoners in the fortress he could have chosen, yet he had singled out the one who had hurt her.
He had done it for her .
To protect her.
Heavens, I love this male.
Fear, deeper than any Aekeira had known before, overwhelmed her. Her vision blurred, her world spinning. She sat back on her heels, shaken to the core.
It had been easier when she hadn't put a name to the emotion. She had felt something for him for so long, but had stubbornly tried not to identify it.
It was simpler to ignore, easier to fight, when it was just that feeling.
"You should save your tears, Aekeira," Lord Vladya stated, his blurred figure now standing at the foot of the bed. "I am a monster, and there are more paths like this one to walk in the future. I do not need to deal with… this . Leave and have your breakdown elsewhere. I do not have the patience for petty little humans who—"
Aekeira moved to her knees on the bed, closing the distance between them, and threw her arms around his waist.
"Thank you," she whispered, her voice still hoarse from taking him deep in her throat. She blinked hard, tears flowing freely, her vision clearing. "I am grateful, Your Majesty."
Lord Vladya stood rigid against her, stiff as a board.
Aekeira only tightened her hold, allowing the tears to flow without restraint. She loved him. She. Loved. Him.
She had feelings for this male who had hurt her more times than she could count, who teetered on the edge of madness. Who scowled at the world and had no smiles to share, who had known so much pain and found comfort in his darkness. And yet, she loved him with a fierceness that frightened her.
He was no fairytale prince. No shining knight she’d dreamed of as a young girl. He was far from perfect.
He was scarred, wounded, and dangerous.
But he was hers .
This love was not gentle or kind. It was raw and painful, like a fresh wound that would never heal.
Was love supposed to hurt this much? Aekeira wondered. Because hers did.
She buried her face against his chest, letting the tears fall unchecked. The warmth of his tensed body against hers, the strength of his presence, was both a comfort and a reminder of the danger he was.
But Aekeira didn’t care.
She loved him—flaws, darkness, and all.