Chapter Five #9
It was there underneath his pet names and teasing, lust-filled taunts. He hated me.
He wanted nothing to do with the useless spawn of the man who stole Raelina from him. I was nothing but a reminder, a torture, a pawn. Alisdair Shadowsoul would see Emiana corrupted and all that should’ve been hers, made his. All in the name of revenge against her father.
“Agh,” I cried, eyes rolling as two fingers pushed past my folds, burying deep to the knuckles.
I could stop this now. To break our deal was to have no deal. We could live in this impossible winter wasteland together—living out days knowing we came so close to what we wanted, but close wasn’t close enough.
I could save Lyrica right then. With one word.
But that wasn’t my duty. There were five people depending on me. Waiting for me. I could save Elva, but no one would save them. No one but me. Let the true princess of Lyrica clean up the mess she created.
I was going home.
Laughing, a smirk twisted my lips. “Is that all you got, pretend king? Who knew you were so... gentle?”
A huge, terrible grin split his face. “Oh, yes. You’ll do just fine.”
Alisdair hefted me up, scraping my back against the tree. My cry choked on a groan, caught in my throat as he closed over my nipple. I assumed only faeriken women shared the experience of a man with fangs ravishing your breasts. I envied them for discovering the experience long before me.
His tongue teased and tortured the little nub to a hardened pebble, standing it to attention, then punishing its wantonness. Sharpened canines scraped the delicate flesh—shooting equal parts pain and pleasure straight to my lower belly.
“Oh, Meya,” I rasped. I tightened, legs clamping on him. “Do you... really think— Oh!”
He snapped my legs open, pushed in deeper still, and spread his fingers wide—spreading me like a Meya’s Day turkey.
“—that,” I breathed, straining to keep hold of my senses. “It’s going to be this easy?”
I hauled back and slapped him across the face.
He growled, head snapping around. The distraction gave me a chance to get my feet between us, and kick.
I threw him off me and took off running, bolting for the trees. They helped me lose him once, they’d help me lose him again. I accepted this deal was my only chance for getting home, but I hadn’t accepted defeat. Not by a long shot.
“Argh!”
I threw my body to the side, and he pounced on the spot I’d been standing in—tackling nothing but air and snow. A strange noise came from him.
Was he... laughing?
Loud, hearty guffaws echoed through the forest. By the goddess, he was enjoying this. Every second of his hunting me down like a wild animal and trying to claim my body like a prize to be won. To him, all of this, was nothing but fun.
He can have his fun eating my snow!
Leaping off the balls of my toes, I jumped, seized a branch just within reach of my fingertips, heaved myself up and—
Snap!
“Ahh!”
I collapsed on the ground, pinned under the branch. A shadow fell over me.
“Seems it is this easy.” Alisdair moved around me, the stalking panther. “Are your wings caught, my pet?”
I shoved against the wood. The answer was unreservedly, humiliatingly, yes. “Get this off of me.”
“Now why”—he flicked my knees apart—“would I do that?”
My pulse raced as his fingers found themselves between my legs again. As they found my clit. “B-because,” I gasped. “You don’t want the fun to... end too so-on— Ah!”
He rubbed the bundle of nerves between my legs like he was rubbing out the spot of damnation. Hard, fast, rough—spots danced before my eyes that made me think I was seeing stars.
I wriggled, kicked, and flailed under the branch—body hot and cold. Shivering and shuddering. How could someone I hated so much make me feel this good?
“Let me... run for you,” I cried, desperation filling my voice.
One thrust and the marriage was consummated.
The bond was sealed. One thrust, and I woke up the next morning a failure, and prepared for another night.
.. as his prey. “You said I was your entertainment.
You said this is our dance. Let it go on for a little long—"
Alisdair dropped between my thighs, and devoured my pussy. My back snapped up—mouth open in a silent, jaw-cracking moan.
He growled, snarled, and snapped—a feral beast going down on a ripe peach. In all my life, with all the books, and all the poems, I’d never find the words to describe this. Of course no book or poem could help me—no other woman had ever been fucked in this manner.
Alisdair’s tongue plunged into my entrance and kept going, going, growing.
I didn’t know what type of magic this was. I didn’t know if it was magic, or simply how the curse changed him. But an infaeman tongue, probed and streeetched me—pushing this borrowed pussy past limits it’d never gone before.
He bobbed and shook his head side to side—both drilling me and tormenting the bundle of nerves at my apex.
Crashing, surging waves of pleasure flooded my body over and over again.
I couldn’t catch my breath from the first wave before the next was bowling me over, dragging me back down into ecstasy my life of sensible maidenhood had never known.
“Oh, fuck,” I screamed when his tongue struck a head-scrambling, fire-igniting spot within me. Where had that been all my life?! Did other women know about this? Why didn’t they tell me! “Meya, save me!”
From what? I had no idea. Save me from his tongue, or how incredible it was making me feel? Either way, if he struck that spot again, I could not be held responsible for my actions. My melting mind wouldn’t even remember them.
Get a hold of yourself, woman! You have to keep running! Why end tomorrow what we can end tonight?
Alisdair’s hand slid under the branch and palmed my breast, taking my poor nipple between two claw-tipped fingers. I had a passing thought that his claws looked longer, then a finger disappeared inside my ass.
My eyes blew wide—wider than the gaping “O” that became my mouth.
Why hadn’t I listened to Shadi and my friends when they tried to tell me what was coming? The only thing I recalled was the warning not to get too loud, or he’d go faster, deeper, and longer.
“Uh, uh, uh! Oh, fuck, AH!” That ship had sailed, taken on water, and wrecked on the seafloor. I couldn’t shut myself up, and Alisdair was all too happy to take on the encouragement.
His finger stretched my puckered hole. His tongue plundered my pussy. His thumb rolled my nipple, and his fangs tortured my clit. Branch or no branch, I never stood a chance.
Tension rose to a fever pitch, boiling over with hot, sweaty, limb-trembling pleasure, and I exploded.
Screaming myself hoarse, I came so hard, I bore down on the branch and snapped it in half.
“Holy Meya fucking shit, Meya fuck,” I groaned, chest heaving—fire spots dancing above my eyes. “What... did you... do to me?”
“That?” Derision laced his voice. “That was nothing. I was holding back.”
Yes. Everything every war wife, Lyrican, and fae said was true. Having sex with faeriken would kill me.
Alisdair licked my juices off his lips. “The time for dancing is over, little queen. I confess, you and your trickster’s lips have had a stronger effect on me than I was anticipating.”
My eyes bugged glancing down. By the All Mother, his cock was already a force to be reckoned with, but seeing it then, painfully hard and engorged to five times its size, I knew why he was balancing on the edge of an apology. That thing would destroy me.
“I’m going to fuck you so hard,” he dropped, “you’ll die.”
I gaped at him, bulging eyes huge. There wasn’t a trace of irony or teasing in this tone. He spoke as though this was simple fact.
“You’re going to slip beyond the veil and gaze upon the face of Meya herself. The dawn will rise on the shell of the innocent, pampered princess you used to be, and then I’ll fuck the wanton whore you’ve become all over again.”
“Oh, gods,” I rasped, lower belly contracting so painfully, I came again.
Alisdair cracked my legs open like an egg, positioning himself at my entrance.
I grabbed half the branch and smashed it over his head.
He snapped around, hands flying off me, and I took off running.
“Huh, huh, huh.” At least, in my mind, I took off running. In reality, I staggered and stumbled through the snow—panting like an animal and trying to will urgency into my relaxed limbs, and loosening into my tauter-than-a-bowstring core.
Shadowsoul was on me in a heartbeat, throwing me up against a tree. Rough, unforgiving bark fought back—digging into my cheek and stomach. Alisdair’s laugh was warm, tickling breath on my ear. He thrust inside me with one smooth move.
We both groaned so deep and guttural, it shook the tree.
I couldn’t believe I marveled at his impossible tongue. It was nothing—nothing compared to the monster between my legs.
“Oh,” I cried out. “Ah!”
“Say it,” he hissed. He licked a stripe up my cheek and grumbled.
I tasted good. “I will have no more of your blustering. Your holding back. The lies on your lips and the truth in your pussy. Scream my name.” A hard snap of his hips drove him deeper, rolling my eyes up in my head.
“The name you curse. The name that haunts your nightmares.
The name that burns your tongue. Scream it, little bird.
“Sing.”
My eye rolled in its socket, meeting his straight on. “Fuck. You.”
He smirked—wide and terrible. “Close enough.” He pulled all the way out and thrust in, impaling that spot with one strike.
I died.
No dramatics. No exaggerations. No bluster. No lies.
Alisdair started pumping—pounding—my pussy, and the person I was, was no more. It was simple fact, as he said. One simply could not know such filthy, dirty, shameful, amazing pleasure, and emerge the same person.
“Oh, gods, yes,” I shrieked. “Ahh, fuck!”
Alisdair was no less quiet than me. His beastlike snarls and growls increased with his pace, filling me with a feeling that should’ve been fear.
Oh, how I wished to Meya it was. But no.
The only thing I felt at hearing him come apart at the seams, losing all sense of himself and his hold on his faemanity for want of me. .. was turned on.
I tightened my walls, clamping down on his cock.
“Agh,” he bellowed, falling on top of me. “Fuck’s sake!”
I smirked. “You scream my name, oh Lord Shadowsoul, King of Beasts. Enough of your lies and bluster. I am a pointless, decorative creature, and you still can’t resist me.”
His eyes flashed. “Oh, dear. I’m going to reach a new level of savagery with you.”
“Are you?” I yawned, and had to snap my jaw shut when a ragged moan tried slipping out too. “When does that start?”
I knew instantly I made a mistake.
The forest spun. Blinking, my mind couldn’t connect how I came face-to-face with him, and the vicious cut I opened on his forehead. My back pressed to the tree within the space of a breath. A small eep escaped me, undercutting my bluster, when he dropped my ankles on his shoulder.
“Starts now.”
Alisdair lost control.
There was no other way to describe it. No word more flowery. No adjective more accurate. The man buried deep inside me, and all sense of civility and control snapped.
My cries were straight screams, echoing into the whistling, frigid forest. Alisdair pumped so hard and fast, he was barely out before he was thrusting back in, hitting heretofore undiscovered angles, and exploding heat and fierce, fiery arousal deep within a core long ignored.
I kicked and slapped at him. Somewhere in the part of my mind still functioning, it was screaming I still had a chance to break free, and stop this before the ancient rites took hold.
My hand came up to dig into his cut, but he threw his head back at that moment—ragged groans ripping from his throat, and baring his fangs to the sky. Fangs that were... bigger?
Alisdair snapped his head forward, and my head back—tangling in my hair and wrenching a cry out of me. It was all the things he’d said it’d be. Not quick, gentle, or loving but—
“Ahh,” I moaned. “Ohh, so deep. You bastard, I—”
“Hmm. You’re moon-kissed...”
Heavy-lidded eyes snapped open, and landed on the strands of snow-white hair woven through his fist. I looked up.
The ever-present clouds parted the barest bit, letting through the scant glow of moonlight that fell over me, revealing my great shame.
I tripped over my tongue. “I—I can—"
“You continue to surprise, little bird.” With that, he latched on to my neck, sucking and teasing my skin.
That was it? People who found out I was moon-kissed usually had much harsher, insulting things to say. Why wasn’t—?
“Ow!” I cried out more from surprise than pain. The madman drew back, admiring the small nip he left on my neck. Palming my breast, he gave the sensitive, heated mound another to match.
“Hey, what are you—?”
Alisdair broke the limits of possibility and pumped faster still, hammering that spot like it needed to be punished. My ability for speech flew up into the trees with the rabbits, abandoning me for good.
I was filthy, raw, and wet. Gravity pulled me down, making me meet him thrust for thrust—bouncing as he bucked. Alisdair nipped me all over my neck and chest, and my swats were landing softer. The sharp pinpricks of pain anchored the pleasure, making it sweeter still.
Too sweet.
My muscles coiled like a viper, bending my back off the wood. Alisdair sank deep and his chest tightened against my thighs. Explosions burst in my mind, throwing me to the edge—tumbling, falling, screaming—gone.
He spilled inside me, filling me to the brim with seed as my pussy gushed its own warm arousal.
Alisdair dropped to his knees—the great and shadowed evil of the faelands brought low because of me. I might’ve crowed about it if I could catch my breath, or take my eyes off my shoulder.
“The rune...”
It was glowing.
I slid down the bark—transfixed. All over our bodies, our runes—our binding promises—lit like the glow from the moon.
And was that it.
I was Shadowsoul’s wife. His mate. His queen. His stepping stool to the throne, then all of Lyrica. I was his to own, command, taunt, torture, and fuck.
I was his... until I learned to run faster.
Alisdair grasped my chin, lifting my gaze to him as the glow faded. “You must forgive me, my queen, for I lied to you once again.
“It actually starts now.”
I didn’t know what he meant, until I did.
“Wait—”
That was the last intelligible thing I said for the rest of the night.