Chapter 7 #2
“Don’t,” I snap, my voice sharper than I intended.
He freezes, his eyes locking onto mine. The gold in his irises flickers like a sun full of heat and unforgiving sharpness, but beneath it, there’s more.
Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s satisfaction.
But whatever it is, my defiance has caught his attention and for a fleeting moment, it feels like the balance of power shifts, like I have some small piece of leverage.
But then his hand lashes out, gripping my jaw with bruising force, and the illusion shatters.
“You forget your place,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “Do not make that mistake again.”
Anger and shame twist in my gut. His grip softens, but doesn’t leave my skin until he decides to release me. When he does, his fingers trail away, deliberate and infuriating, before he picks up the sponge again.
He dips it into the water, wringing it out with a lazy sort of patience that makes my blood boil. Then he begins again, dragging the sponge across my chest with maddening care. The motion is slow, methodical, as though he’s savoring every second of my discomfort.
I clench my fists beneath the water, the tension returning to my muscles as quickly as the bath had eased it. But his touch remains infuriatingly gentle, the sponge gliding over my skin in a way that feels too personal, too intimate.
Even after last night.
“You are mine,” he says, his voice calm and measured. “I command the oceans and everything beneath them, and you will serve me or you will suffer. You will obey me without question. If I tell you to kneel, you kneel. If I tell you to speak, you speak. Defiance will not be tolerated.”
I bite my tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.
“This is a poor beginning,” he sighs. “Already you choose to defy me. You will submit, Jude. Not just in action, but in spirit. Your body is mine. And soon, your mind will be, too. Perhaps even your soul, should we be fortunate enough to forge that connection.”
I swallow hard, my chest tightening with a mix of anger and an emotion I can’t quite name.
“I don’t…”
His hands stop and his claws grip my shoulders. “Finish your thought.”
“I don’t belong to you,” I manage, though the words come out weaker than I’d hoped.
His lips curl into a smile that’s more predator than man as his hands trail down my arms, pulling them gently but insistently from the tight fists I’ve made. He spreads my fingers, examining them like an artist appraising a new tool.
“You were mine before I claimed you. Soon, you’ll wonder why you even fought it.
Humans have strange ideas about relationships.
Your life is so fleeting and yet you waste so much time fighting attraction and lust, denying yourselves and others pleasure.
You worry more about appearances and labels than about intimacy and honesty, and you would do a lot better if you accepted the world for what it is, instead of imposing your false ideologies and doctrines on it. ”
I swallow hard, my breath hitching as his hands linger, his presence overwhelming. The heat of the bath, the weight of his words, and the tension in my chest press down on me, making it hard to think, to breathe, to do anything but sit there and endure.
“You waste today worrying whether you have changed after last night, instead of accepting that you are as you always were. You fight me and what I want because you’re afraid of what you’ll become, instead of fearing what you won’t discover by denying the possibility of me.
You refuse to accept your reality because you’re clinging to your fragile notions of what it should be. ”
His words drip with disdain, each one a challenge to my identity, my beliefs. I want to argue, to tell him he’s wrong, but a deeper part of me—the part still reeling from last night, from the truth I’m too afraid to face—wonders if he’s right. If I’ve been lying to myself all along.
I’ve enjoyed women, but I’ve never been satisfied by them.
I’ve craved something else, and I never found it. Maybe because I wouldn’t let myself name it until now.
I’ve ignored this hunger for too long, but his voice makes it impossible to deny and I won’t be able to ignore it much longer.
I shake my head, breaking the spell of his voice.
“You don’t know me. You can’t just take me and turn me into something I’m not.”
Lorien’s laugh is low, almost indulgent, like a parent amused by a child’s tantrum.
“I can do anything I want with you,” he says, dipping the sponge back into the water. “But I see you as you are. For what you are. You’re raw, untamed, aching to be given the chance to be greater than you are now. You fight because you’re afraid, but fear is nothing more than resistance to truth.”
His hand moves again, the sponge trailing over my collarbone, and I hate the way my body responds, the way my skin seems to hum beneath his touch. He notices, of course. He notices everything.
“You think you hate me,” he continues, his voice softening, almost tender. “But hate will fade, as it always does. Soon, you’ll understand. You’ll thank me for showing you who you really are.”
I shake my head and he tsks under his breath.
“You are the only thing that has caught my attention in centuries, and together we will discover what that spark might become. You will do as I say, and one day, when you look back on this moment, you’ll realize it was when I set you free.”
Free.
The word feels like a mockery coming from him, a man who’s chained me, stripped me of everything and claimed me as his.
I want to laugh, to shout, to tear the smugness from his face.
But all I can do is sit there, motionless, as he rises to his feet, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.
“You may rest,” he says, stepping back from the bath.
“You can even contemplate the meaning of last night, though I strongly advise you not to dwell on it. Enjoy it. Cherish it. Accept that it will happen again, and more will pass between us, and soon, you will give yourself to me and do anything I ask for nothing more than a few moments with my cock.”
He turns and walks away, leaving me alone in the steaming water, my mind a storm of defiance, fear, and something I can’t quite name. Something dark and consuming that I can’t shake, no matter how hard I try.
The door closes behind him with a soft click, and the silence that follows is deafening.
I sink deeper into the water, letting it swallow me as I try to steady my breathing.
But no matter how hard I try, I can’t escape the echo of his words, the weight of his gaze, or the truth I’m too afraid to face.
My head snaps to one side, startled by something in the corner of my vision. There’s nothing there, and it’s just a figment of my imagination. Another terrible darkness conjured in this world designed to destroy me.
He’s breaking me. Piece by piece, he’s breaking me.
And I don’t know if I’ll survive it.
Worse, I don’t know if I want to.