Chapter 32 Daemon’s Devotion #2
Whipping around, I discovered that Einar had pursued me on my way out, pink in the face and a vein throbbing in his temple.
“I’m going now, alright? Leave me alone. Oww!” I cried complainingly as he grabbed my arm, though his grip wasn’t firm enough to be truly painful.
I saw Josh cast a disapproving look in the direction of Einar’s back.
“I’m asking you something and you’ll answer me before going anywhere!”
“My answer is that I thought I might help, an honest and well-meaning mistake, you ... bloody ... boorish ... brute!”
With a jerk, I escaped his grasp and finally stormed outside.
About an hour later, the sun was low and orange above the horizon.
I was returning to the camp from a secluded spot where I had tended to my more private needs when Einar appeared seemingly out of nowhere and crashed into me, embracing me forcefully without slowing his step.
His hands found their way underneath my top and ran up and down my bare back before one of them buried itself in my pants, its fingers seeking me with the ferocity of an invasion. His breath was ragged in my ear.
“No, stop! I’m mad at you!”
Trying to push him away was like trying to push an automobile up a steep hill.
“Einar, no! What are you doing? No!”
He tore into my hair as he undid my plait, and my breath seized. He tugged the bow and quiver off my back. Then he threw me over his shoulder and carried me further away to a nearby tree alcove.
“I’ll scream!” I warned him, bouncing up and down against his back, his collarbone pressing painfully into my hip.
“No, you won’t.” He slapped my rear, and the savagery of the blow burned on my tightly stretched skin.
He braced me against a tree as he lowered me back to the ground and yanked my trousers down without bothering to undo them. Took them and my shoes off. My chest constricted painfully, and I could barely hear over the drumming of my heart’s blood.
“Einar, stop! Please! You can’t seriously think this is a reasonable payback for earlier.”
He unbuckled his belt, and I flinched at the sound.
He pressed against me, and the tree bark rubbed my back raw.
I struggled as much as I was able to, which wasn’t much at all.
I couldn’t move an inch against his weight, no matter how hard I strained my muscles.
Breathless and exhausted already, I realised that he had become completely motionless, fixing me with an intense, glacial glare.
As if frozen, I ceased struggling, limp as a doll.
“Of course not. You’ve done nothing wrong. But I need you. Give me your fear. Give me your resistance so that I can overpower you. Give me your utter defeat.”
I whimpered feebly, but even as I did, my hips were already straining towards his in a rebellion against my better judgement, ahead of me in awareness of the situation.
“You can say no,” Einar assured me, “but if you don’t, I want you to forget immediately about ever having that option. I want to fuck you like you have no say in the matter. And I want to hear you beg only so that I can deny you. I want your complete surrender.”
My breathing had slowed down only to speed up again, shallow like a summertime puddle. I wouldn’t have dared acquiesce even had he allowed me to. But neither could I bring myself to say no, dizzy with intrigue and desiring to be of service to him that no one else could provide.
Though my lower lip trembled, I held his gaze.
Assured of my silent acquiescence, he nodded.
“Tap the ground three times if you need me to stop.”
Despite my mounting apprehension, a significant part of me felt exhilarated, impatient as a child on Christmas morning.
He was about to reveal just as much about himself as he was about me.
The darkness he hadn’t trusted me with until then, raw and untethered.
I swelled with pride at being at long last deemed ready for whatever storm had been brewing inside of him.
I was thinking furiously what to say when Einar took a step back to free my body from being pinned against the damn tree.
“Run!” he rasped in a voice laced with cruelty as I stumbled.
Not needing to be told twice, I bolted, the pumping of my arms jerky and wholly desynchronised from the wobbly strides of my legs.
I dashed between the trees, uncoordinated in my panic, tripping over roots and slamming my shoulders hard into trunks.
Needles and pinecones cut painfully into my bare feet.
Einar must have loved the sight of me zig-zagging mindlessly about, tangled hair flying behind me like a cape, and the naked cheeks of my behind bouncing up and down.
Too soon, the anticipated long, heavy footsteps thundered behind me, their distance from me growing shorter with each of my frantic heartbeats.
An iron grip crushed my midriff as I was jerked upward and to the side before being set back down. I flailed my arms, punching nothing but air, until sharp pain cut across my face.
Einar had slapped me. Not very hard, just enough to stun me. A bolt of excitement slashed through me the very same instant.
I stumbled, the inflicted cheek hot with pins and needles, and my ears ringing. Suspending me momentarily by the much-protesting fabric of my shirt, he tackled me to the ground, knocking the breath out of me.
He muted me. I couldn’t scream.
“No,” I gasped voicelessly.
“That’s it, be my good fucking whore and shut up.”
Straddling me, Einar slapped me again with his other hand. More pins and needles. My heart beat painfully against my ribcage, wild with fright, and yet lower below, I throbbed just as acutely with unbridled lust.
He pulled my tight, elastic top up over my raised arms, blinding me. I let out a choked, feral groan.
Just as I had managed to get my breath back, his forearm pressed against my raised arms and neck. The pressure in my head increased due to the constriction of my airways, and I saw stars as I closed my eyes.
I clenched my muscles in protest as he attempted to part my legs. The pressure on my neck increased, and he grabbed my nipple and twisted it hard until glowing red arrows erupted in the night sky behind my shut eyelids. My lips parted in a mute cry of pain.
Einar hit the ground next to me with his fist, and the volcanic thud made me flinch.
“You’re going to lie here and you’re going to fucking take it or I’ll make you bleed.” His voice was ice and gravel.
I was flooded with visceral fear, the kind that had been ingrained deep into my genes for millennia. But that fear only triggered an exhilaration that was more of an acquired taste, a jubilant joy at being able to experience such intense terror while staying completely safe.
His hips ploughed closer to me despite my instinctive resistance.
His weight crushed me to the point of my internal organs bursting out through the seams of my skin.
Dirt and pebbles fused with my much-abused back.
I felt an irrepressible desire to weep, but I couldn’t, as crying would have robbed me of what little oxygen I had left.
What moisture I was unable to expel from my eyes found its release elsewhere, though.
And as Einar finally rammed into me with the vehemence of a crashing train, there was no pain, save pleasure so exquisitely intense it was almost indistinguishable in its sharpness from torture.
I seized around him instantly, bliss sharp as a knife slashing through my nerve endings.
I felt as if my veins had dissolved, and hot blood flowed through me free and unconstrained.
I shuddered as I climbed higher and higher on waves of ecstasy.
Succumbing fully to the thrill of the darkest of my fantasies coming to life.
The unspoken one that I hadn’t dared acknowledge even to myself.
But one that had possessed me ever since I saw Einar for the first time on that distant plain, dancing his seductive dance of death with a fury.
Like a bird escaping captivity, a restrained, shrill cry accompanied my climax.
“See,” Einar drawled, and I detected a note of satisfaction in his voice at making me come so quickly. “You like being fucked into the ground like a one-use toy, don’t you?”
“No. Stop,” I rasped, not because I wished him to, but because I wanted to fulfil his desire, grant him my resistance so that he could destroy it.
“Have it your way,” he growled, barely concealing the anticipatory pleasure in his timbre, but to my surprise, he slid out of me. “But you’re not going to be happy about this.”
He flipped me over, slamming me back down so fast that I barely managed to protect my face with my arms, still wrapped in my tee.
Einar grabbed my waist, jerking me onto my knees.
His intention became clear to me as he pulled my hips further back, until the backs of my thighs nearly touched my ankles.
“No, dammit!” I cried out in earnest when I heard him spit into his hand. “Not that!”
I wanted to crawl away, but he grabbed my hair close to my scalp and pressed my face into the dirt and needles, pinning me in place.
From further back, wet sloshing sounds came as he rubbed his spit over himself first and then over a part of me that I certainly did not wish to think of as an entrance, but which I had to concede could be used that way if my opinion on the matter was not a factor to consider.
“I said I was going to make you bleed, didn’t I? I didn’t say how,” Einar pointed out harshly.
I squeezed my eyes and whimpered, because I knew from what little experience I had that it was going to hurt, especially given his size and the complete lack of preparation.
He pressed the tip of his hard-on against the tight, resisting place, teasing it, allowing me a chance to give my stop signal should I choose to.
But I didn’t. If my suffering was what he wanted, then he was going to have it, and something about that thought excited me despite the unpleasantness of my imminent prospects.
He drove into me without holding back, and then out again, and I nearly blacked out from the searing agony that he left in his wake. His hand left my hair and, pushing the tee out of the way, it closed around my throat to stifle my yells.
“That’s right,” he droned, holding my hips in position by a much-protesting fold of skin and flesh. “Let me hear how much it hurts.”
And I did let him hear that, with each thrust, much as I was able to while struggling for breath against the clasp of his fingers.
I suffered intensely as he stretched me in ways I was not supposed to be stretched, no part of me enjoying the experience in the physical sense.
But on another level, I revelled in his ownership over me as he claimed my pain.
As I did in knowing that my agony wasn’t random or pointless, that it was decided and controlled by him, and it wasn’t for me to concern myself with trying to stop it.
All there was for me to do was ... accept it.
Willingly, and with something close to relief.
Likely aware that he tortured me with each of his thrusts, Einar didn’t take long.
With a moan almost pleading in its nature, I felt him throb and shudder inside and heard his voice break like that of a man lost and a man saved.
As he pulled out of me, a thin trail of hot liquid followed his trajectory, and I could not tell whether that was just his cum or whether he had made me bleed as he had threatened.
In any case, it wasn’t that much, and I did not mind.
I collapsed to the ground as soon as he let go of me and rolled to my back, breathing hard. His fingers brushed over my face as he peeled the fabric off my face.
“God, are you alright, Ren?”
His visage appeared above me in between the cascades of his ash and gold hair. He peered at me worriedly from behind the slightly crooked nose. Guilt rested on his shoulders, and his eyes were full of pleading.
He cradled me in his arms like a fragile bird as I re-discovered breathing to my full lung capacity. Whatever it was that flowed out of me stung against my thighs. Wrapping my limp arms around his shoulders, I nestled against his chest, feeling smaller than I ever have in his embrace.
“I was right before,” I panted, but without a note of reproach in my unsteady voice. “You are a brute.”
“I swear I’ll worship the ground you walk on for today ...” he promised, flustered and solemn, and he bent his head to kiss my forehead gingerly.
“As if you didn’t already.”
“You got me there.” He returned my smile, but his shoulders were hunched with tension.
“Are you scared you’ve gone too far? Or that you’ll want to go further yet?” I asked him, straightening up to look levelly into his face. “Are you afraid that one day you’ll demand too much of me? Don’t be, because you can’t.”
My face was inches away from his as I crowded him, not taking my eyes off his.
“Do you want to hurt me? I’ll bleed for you and think it nothing but a privilege. Do you want to mark me? I’ll wear your brand like a badge of honour. Do you want me to cater to your every wish and obey your every command? There’s only one thing I can say to that: yes, master.”
Finally, I saw understanding flash in the arctic pools, and the creases in his visage smoothed out, only to be replaced by contours that were keen with comprehension as deep as it was dark.
“For as long as we’re together, you don’t have to be afraid of yourself ever again. You cannot take too much from me. You cannot take anything from me. Not when there’s not a thing I wouldn’t willingly let you have.”