Chapter Sixteen
Kronos
She was an inspiration, and running his palm over her hot skin, he was truly alive for the first time in what seemed like decades.
Yes, there was Shelley, and those kneeling women who came before her, but none of them had whipped up the visceral electricity he sensed swirling through his body and hardening his arousal.
None of them had been Kristina.
He wanted her. Not just to claim her sublime body, although he was impatient for that exquisite pleasure, but to guide and protect her. Having her there seemed as though it was meant to be.
Running his hand over Kristina’s shoulder blade, he struggled to recall if things had felt so easy when Shelley had arrived.
It took a long time for her to be ready for any interaction.
The first time she roused, she had defied his enchantment, becoming hysterical.
He remembered the ear-splitting screams and her inconsolable panic.
Days bled into weeks before she was calm enough for Kronos to spend time with her, and he had no choice but to intensify his spell, sending her back to her dreams until her mind was ready to accept her situation.
Kristina, however, had already defied that trend. Yes, he’d sensed her panic when he’d manifested from the ether, but he’d only needed small tweaks to his magic in order to soothe her. Not only that, but she’d coped well when he demanded she come for her first punishment.
That was progress Kronos had never seen before.
A seed of something akin to hope bloomed in his chest, but when he landed the next strike, he pushed the thought aside. It was unhelpful to make assumptions about Kristina’s growth. She was human and could easily falter. Their propensity for mistakes was the only surety about the species.
“Master, thank you.”
Turning to acknowledge her raspy tone, he wondered if her timbre was born from pain or something more aligned to his own blossoming desire.
“I want to help you, little one.” He hoped the gentle caresses he offered revealed he could be tender as well as strict. “… to revive you.”
She twitched over his lap. “What does that mean, Master?”
He could hear the tell-tale sounds of weariness in her voice, the way her body wilted after the tension; a visual reminder that not only was Kronos new to her, but so were his rules and expectations.
Kronos insisted on discipline and accountability, both of which were often new concepts for mortals.
Kristina would be overwhelmed by her recent experiences.
He needed to remain conscious of her plight.
“You don’t know me yet.”
He wanted her to know him, though. Just as he wanted to know her, longed to not only be able to better read her physical cues, and anticipate her every mood.
Only time would bring that comforting clarity, but taking in the length of her gorgeous body, he yearned to turn the hands of that clock forward.
Some called him Father Time, and he possessed the skills to draw the rhythm that humanity lived by forward or backward, but experience restrained him.
If he sped headlong into their relationship, he ran the risk of missing the tiny moments of connection and intimacy that would blossom, and he didn’t want to do that.
Kronos was struck by just how powerful she was in that moment. Diminutive and far physically inferior to him, but it was already impossible to conceive of a future without Kristina.
She had answered his call on purpose. He was sure of it.
Their paths had been destined to cross.
“You do not understand my motivations,” he went on, conscious that she deserved an explanation. “But know that one day, you will learn to love the sound of my commands.”
He leaned closer again, grazing his lips over the small of her back and noticing the way the rest of her body had significantly cooled.
His palm had heated her backside, while his other hand stroked her back and shoulders, but the exposed skin had grown cold in the interim.
Her cell should have kept a constant pleasant temperature, but unlike the calming enchantment that had worked so well on Kristina, her natural responses were overriding the climate control.
It troubled him not to have met her basic needs. Before anything else was accomplished, that was his primary goal. Perhaps it was best that he ended the spanking there. No doubt her sensitive skin would already bear the marks of his minimal effort.
“Please let me up.” Her balled hands tightened beneath the mane of her hair. “I didn’t mean to upset you, but I can’t do this…”
“Shhh…” His hand brushed over the length of her gorgeous body. “Your punishment is over.”
Tugging her from over his lap, he overcame her struggling limbs and compelled her upright.
Her long legs stretched either side of his muscular frame, anger flashing in her watering eyes when he steadied her.
For a split second, they merely stared at one another, her expression dazed, while his, he presumed, conveyed the extent to which he was willing to dive straight into the oceans of her eyes.
What was happening to him?
Centuries of chaos and destruction had led him to that breathtaking moment.
Once upon a time, he’d ruled over a harmonious peace, but he was no king of accord.
Kronos had created carnage, manifesting more hurt than he cared to admit.
That was why he’d spent so many decades searching and training mortal females.
There was an unspoken solace about the task, a sense of finally honoring his power by working with each woman.
Even if it took ten years to bring them to the point of surrender, it mattered not.
He had held them and honored them with his dedication.
The moment the mortal returned to her existence, she discovered no time had been lost in her life.
Kronos took her right back to where she had been, except she was then armed with all that he’d taught her.
The surrender he demanded for The Advancement offered each woman a huge sense of empowering solace; the knowledge that she could be held, supported, and have implicit trust in someone other than herself.
That was what Kronos provided, but it required care, maturity, and authority, skills that, in his experience, few mortal men possessed.
When she left his side, that woman would never again accept the disrespect, dismissive behavior, and childishness previously proffered by the mortal men she’d encountered.
She finally understood what she was worth.
That was his service to the world; the purpose which gave his survival meaning, yet in all that time, he’d never been so drawn to anyone the way he was with Kristina.
“Please!” Her jaw clenched, and her fists rose between them as if she intended to beat them against his chest.
He considered whether it might be better to simply allow her to release her frustrations. Such a tiny human could hardly do him much damage, and perhaps, if he permitted her the release, it would be better for her long-term health.
“I don’t know why I’m here, or why I’m naked, or who you are…” Fire flashed in her eyes as her gaze locked with his. “I just want this to stop.”
“You are angry and confused.”
He wanted to soothe her, though she was the epitome of temptation, perched over him with only a thin layer of fabric to separate them.
“Yes.” She practically spat the word at him.
Kronos might have been more perturbed at the response had he not been so intrigued by her reactions.
Intuitive enough to know that, despite his spells, she’d been taken against her will, she was still not immune to the chemistry stirring between them.
She felt that tug. He was sure that the glint in her eyes spoke of lust as well as loathing.
“Yes, what?” His hand moved fast, his fingers sliding into her honeyed hair and drawing her head backward.
“Fuck!” Her hands rose to his, futilely attempting to claw at his grip.
“Say it,” he demanded.
The gravelly tone of his voice suggested a wrath he didn’t feel, but Kronos also knew he couldn’t allow her allure to blind him. There were rules, and he’d already made the first one clear. He was her master, and she would refer to him as such. It was a mark of respect he merited.
“Master.” She forced the word out; her body twisting to try and negate the electricity his fingers were igniting at her scalp.
Gazing at her helpless body, his cock stirred again. “Tell me again, but this time, address me correctly.”
Her head lowered as far as his hand allowed, her lips still gasping for what she presumed was the oxygen in the air.
Of course, the mortal still required the gas to survive, but in Kronos’ realm, everything she needed was present without the atmosphere found on Earth.
His magic ensured her every requirement was met.
“I… I don’t know how to do this... Master.” Her expression was mournful when she finally ceded.
Fingers relaxing in her tresses, he slid his thumb along the heated skin of her cheek. Her face was still redder than her backside, though he sensed he would remedy that imbalance before too long.
“Are you angry and confused?” He slowed his pace, relishing the touch of her soft flesh.
“Yes, Master.”
The word appeared to come more easily to her that time, suggesting, like all of the others before her, she responded more positively to his praise than to his punishments.
“Do you want to share those emotions?” He offered her the chance to offload if she chose to, but he accepted he could not coerce emotion from her. Motioning to her hands, which had fallen between them, he went on. “Beat your fists against my chest if it appeases you.”
Blinking away the fresh tears in her eyes, her brow arched as though she’d misheard him. “Are you telling me to hit you, Master?”
His lips twitched at her disbelieving tone. “As a somatic exercise to help you release your anger and fear, yes.” His hand fell to hers, skimming over her much smaller digits. “You can do me no real damage, little one.”
“But I must still stay here and be like this.” She gestured to her stunning body.
“Oh, yes.”
He couldn’t conceal his fervor that time, but her scathing tone was unwelcome.
He should have punished her insolence, yet every sinew of his being told him to hold back, to give her the outlet she required, and to make the most of the time with her.
Soon, she would need to sleep again, and Kronos would lose her to the weight of her dreams. She would also need nourishment and, he assumed, the use of his facilities.
Too many demands would tear them from the moment, so he intended to make the most of every second.
“There will be no clothes in your near future, Miss Malmon.”
The sound of her name seemed to catch her off-guard. “So, that’s it, then? I’m just yours to keep here naked, Master?”
Indignation brimmed in her tone, and he wished she had chosen to beat her delicate fists against him. The bursts of violence were far less likely to provoke another penalty, whereas her unimpressed voice simply begged for more punishment.
“That’s right.” His hand rose to her thigh, the ends of his fingers drawing circles over her sensitive flesh. Beneath the fabric covering his cock, the organ swelled “You’re mine, little one, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”