32. Chapter 28
Chapter 28
Caelan
I turned from the mews. The soothing space, which smelt of animals and was most often empty except for Selim and his underlings, had been the place I went when I was upset for most of my life. But as I approached it now, I resented the idea of being soothed. I didn’t want to soothe these emotions away. I wanted to lean into my newfound convictions. I wanted to dominate.
My feet found a new path. Eave waited at the end of it.
My mind began with its fantasies. I wondered how I’d find her when I returned to my chamber. Would she be lounging on her bed, bored and eager for my return? I imagined what I might do first, playing with the possibilities in my mind as if they were toys.
Then, abruptly, I stopped myself.
Impotent men contented themselves with fantasies. I would waste no more time that way. If I wanted something, I would take it. If I wondered about something, I would do it. I was done holding back.
My feet carried me into my room and to Eave’s door. I wrenched it open, startling her into standing. Her hands sought her belt, looking to draw the twin daggers I’d taken from her. But of course, she wore nothing but her court silks. She was helpless prey, already caught in my trap.
I didn’t know what I would do until I did it. I grabbed her by the arm. In her surprise, she tried to fight me off. She dropped her weight and kicked at my knees while she wrenched at her arm, trying to release herself. But I’d expected something of the sort. I tightened my grip and shook her back to her senses.
“Stop it.”
She hissed, the warrior I’d met on the plains returning. It was unexpectedly thrilling and arousing to see her eyes narrow, calculating her next move.
But I was not interested in giving her the chance to try something. I flattened my palm and hit her in the sternum. I was careful of my force, of course, and used only enough to shock her. The breath left her in a sudden exhale. Her eyes grew wide with surprise and she bent over herself, coughing with lost breath and cradling her ribcage.
“I said, stop it.” My voice sounded strange in my ears. It was cold as the northern tundra.
I moved my hand from her arm to the back of her neck. I wished for a collar and leash, but I didn’t have one. I’d remedy that shortly, but for now, I’d guide her this way. I pushed her out into the hall, startling Baris.
“Caelan, what…”
“You’re not needed, Baris,” I snarled. “Take a break.”
He hesitated, his eyes scanning Eave for signs of damage. Should I be insulted or pleased that after all his time knowing me, Baris still thought I might really hurt this woman? I wasn’t sure, and the thoughts weren’t ones I meant to entertain. Not now.
Baris bowed and walked the other direction.
“Where are we going?” Eave asked breathlessly as I shoved her down the hall.
“To hell.”
I’d been in the dungeon underworld tunneled out from Kutha only one other time, and the experience had never left me. On the morning after the Traitor’s army fell, Amon had pretended he sought to comfort me. He’d convinced me to come with him into the underworld. He was only ten, then, and I was five. What happened to me that day had haunted me ever since, scarring me inside and out. He’d shown me that the world down there belonged to him. He’d caged me and tortured me like one of his girls.
I’d thought I’d never descend these stairs again, but here I was. Grabbing a torch from the wall and shoving a woman ahead of me to stumble on the uneven, carved steps.
Fear of being too much like Amon had restrained me from being myself. That was over now. I was about to discover who I really was, beneath all the careful self-control and masks and lies.
Eave’s breathing escalated as the darkness closed in. “Where are we going?” she asked again, though the answer was obvious.
Down and down and down.
It was only when we reached the bottom that I realized I didn’t know the way to the Emperor’s Dungeon. Narrow tunnels promised death by starvation to those who got lost down here. It was said that the few prisoners who’d ever escaped died that way, trying to find their way back to the light.
Etched forever in my mind was the way to Amon’s private dungeon, but there was no way I was taking Eave there. It required a right, so I took a left. I walked along the corridor, my heart beating in my chest. My resolve weakened as I wondered if I were lost.
“What do you want with me down here?” Eave asked. The tunnels seemed to absorb sound, making her words sound timid.
I turned abruptly, pressing Eave into the wall of the tunnel. I got very close, teasing her face with my breath. My frustration had transformed into intense focus. There was nothing in the world but her.
“I’m going to chain you in a cell and torture you until you cry and beg me to fuck you, just to make me stop. And then I’m going to enjoy my slave the way she’s meant to be enjoyed.”
Eave’s entire body shuddered, but I couldn’t tell if she shook in fear or ecstasy. Her mouth parted, tongue licking wet lips. She looked up at me with wide eyes. They looked almost adoring in the dim torchlight. Her breath came fast but she didn’t pull away from my body, which I’d pressed tightly against hers. If anything, she leaned closer.
“Then, turn left at the next fork.”
My vision fixed on her, curiosity overriding lust. “You know the way?”
She looked about the empty tunnel with an unreadable expression. “I can see the path through the dragonstone,” she said.
Yes, that made sense. Her Sight must allow her to see the tunnels and caverns. But was I really meant to believe she was helping me find my way to a cell where I’d do as I wished with her?
I dug under her skirt, tugging until I could lift it enough to get my hand underneath. Her legs were slightly parted and she didn’t close them as I reached roughly for the hot place between them. I grazed it with my fingers and she gasped, her head tilting back, her eyes fluttering closed.
Father help me.
She was soaked.
My hand, still around the back of her neck, tightened as my cock rose and my breathing came faster. “You want this,” I murmured.
My mother was right. Southern women must be made for men like me. There was something in Eave that answered when the monster in me called.
Eave’s eyes opened and met mine. Her mouth was still slightly open and a sluggish expression had overtaken her face. The overall effect was lustful, but she didn’t speak to confirm what I already knew. No matter. She would.
I pulled her off the wall and kept going. At each fork, Eave quietly told me the way.
“There are two dungeons down here. One is large; I’d expect caverns that housed many men in addition to smaller rooms. The other is all small rooms and tight hallways. It’s the first one I want.”
“I know,” she said, though I had no idea how.
A guard stood before the door, dressed in my father’s livery. He was alert, and came to attention as I approached him. “Prince Caelan,” he said, masking any surprise he might have felt.
“Guardsman. I need a cell. Something clean and private, with chains on the walls.”
The man immediately bowed his head and produced a large ring of keys. He opened the metal door behind him and held it open. When we’d passed through, my hand still around Eave’s neck, he closed and locked the door before leading us through a hallway that was wider than those outside. More frequent torches lit the gloom, but the darkness was still all-encompassing.
I half-feared to find criminals leering at me from corners, but the hall was empty and I saw no faces peering out through the small barred windows in the metal doors.
The man stopped at a door with no window and fiddled with his keys once more. “Will this suffice, my prince?”
He swung the door open and entered to light the room’s torches before stepping back, his expression carefully neutral.
Shackles and chains lay ready against the back wall. Rings of iron were buried in the stone. There was a mattress in the corner, though it lacked linens. Nearby, on a table, lay a few instruments of torture. I strode to them, dragging Eave along. A paddle made of rare red hardwood lay beside a long cane no wider than Eave’s smallest finger. A whip draped across the table, its end sweeping the floor. Cat-o'-nine-tails sat beside it, next to a selection of switches and knives. Eave shuddered as I forced her to look at them.
My cock hardened to stone. This room was meant for me, and I would very much enjoy discovering which of these implements she loved and hated most.
“It’s perfect,” I called to the guard. “Make sure we’re not disturbed.”
The door swung closed, leaving Eave and me alone. Abruptly and without gentleness, I released Eave’s neck. She stumbled before righting herself.
“Here we are,” I said. Though it was frustration and longing for power that had brought me here, it was lust and desire for the woman in front of me that motivated me now. My normal reticence returned, leaving me hovering on the edge of a precipice. I stood on the verge but was afraid to jump.
But Eave was not afraid. So little scared her. I doubted I could even guess what those things were. She tossed her hair and walked bravely to the wall with the iron rings. She planted her feet. Her eyes glowed in the dark.
“Tell me what to do,” she said, but the command was full of longing. She pleaded with me to take control, her eyes hopeful and hungry, her voice nervous.
Just like that, my doubts were gone. “Take off your dress,” I said.
My heart raced as her hands went to the pins that held up the dress. She nimbly unwound fabric and the dress dropped to the ground. She stood naked in the torchlight. Shadows of fire danced across the side of her breast and the curves of her hip and waist. She stepped out of the dress and kicked it to the side. Then she raised her arms above her head, her hands pressed together. The motion raised her breasts high; her nipples were already tight with arousal.
Fuck. She wanted to be chained.
Well, then, I’d make her wait.
Time lengthened like a stretched yarn as I stared at her body in the torchlight. Her willingness could not be denied, and yet I found it hard to believe. This woman hated me, or so she claimed. Yet here she was, craving pain administered at my hands. She baffled me.
But I was done with such pondering now. The fire that had risen in me at my father’s talk of the temple had burned low as I navigated the dungeon tunnels. Now it flared to life again.
I strode over to Eave and locked the highest shackles on the wall around her wrists. Eave was not tall and the shackles dangled on a short chain. She was forced up onto her toes, her body stretched out, her chest thrust out.
I kicked at the sides of her bare feet. “Spread.”
Her feet slipped wider apart, opening her until I imagined I could scent her desire. I bent low to shackle her feet. When I was finished, she couldn’t close her legs. She stood before me, spread open and helpless.
I wondered for a moment, as I contemplated what came next, why I’d chosen to shackle her facing me, rather than turning her around to beat her back and buttocks.
I quickly determined my answer.
I wanted to watch her face.
Her eyes peered at me with heavy-lidded curiosity. Any other woman’s chest would be heaving. Perhaps they’d already be crying and begging in fear. But Eave’s chest rose with level, even breaths. She appeared calm and at peace, almost relaxed. Her nipples were hard. Her eyes never left me as my fingers drifted along the toys that lay on the table.
I’d never used most of them. I didn’t have my own collection, like Amon and my father did. The few times I’d allowed myself to play with causing pain, I’d used my own hand, my belt, or other objects in the room.
Now a whole wide world of possibilities opened up before me for the first time.
My fingers closed around the handle of the wooden paddle.
Eave saw. I thought a look of satisfaction crossed her face, but I couldn’t be sure. I considered blindfolding her so she would not see what was coming, but I wanted to watch her reactions too much to deprive myself of them.
I stalked over to her, enjoying my ability to move when she could not. Her eyes tracked my every motion.
I leaned in close and our breaths mingled. I was keenly aware of how dressed I was in layer after layer of fine court silks while she was utterly naked.
I lifted the paddle as if to hit her with it and she jumped in anticipation, but I only brought it down to caress her thigh. Her expression showed irritation with herself for reacting and I chuckled. Her eyes dropped.
“Oh no. Don’t you dare hide your face from me,” I commanded.
She said nothing.
But her games of silence and lies would not be allowed here. I took her chin in my hand and forced it up.
“Rule one. When I give you a command, you answer me. ‘Yes, my prince’ or ‘Yes, Master.’ Do you understand?”
Defiance flooded Eave’s eyes and her jaw clenched beneath my fingers. But even as she resisted obedience, her body quivered. She arched out from the wall, towards me. She fought a battle inside herself.
“Yes, Prince,” she ground out.
I grinned. Close enough.
“Rule two. Your eyes stay up. I want you to watch me hurt you. No hiding.”
She swallowed. Her eyes dipped momentarily before she realized such a thing was now disobedience. She brought them up again.
“Good girl,” I whispered. My thumb caressed her cheek as little shudders ran through it.
“Rule three.” I hesitated. I had to think of how to phrase this one. “If the pain becomes too much for you, or you’re afraid, you’ll tell me. I won’t promise to stop, but I must know. Do you understand?”
I felt nervous while I awaited her reply. She must say yes or I’d never be able to let myself go. I hovered on the edge of a cliff and I needed her to tell me it was safe to jump. Once I jumped…well, I didn’t know what would happen.
But this command seemed to be the easiest of the three for her. She tugged her lip into her mouth as if she were hungry. I wanted to give her something else to taste instead, but that would come later.
“Yes, Master,” Eave said.
My cock was so hard it hurt me.
Without moving my body, I lifted the paddle and brought it down on the outside of her thigh.
She cried out, mostly in surprise. She glanced away automatically before her eyes found their way back to me again. She smiled just a tiny bit, a smile that seemed to say, “Go on, what are you waiting for?”
I stepped back just far enough to allow me to see where I aimed. I brought the paddle down on the outside of her thigh in the same place I’d hit her before. I deliberately hit her lightly. I was only warming up her skin. I paddled her again and again, moving around the area, until Eave began to shift on her feet.
I grinned.
She was starting to feel it.
I switched to the other thigh, warming that up, too, before I raked both thighs with my fingernails. The skin was warm and pink.
Eave shuddered at the sharp caress. Her nipples were tight and little bumps were raised around them.
“Do you want more?” I asked her.
Without hesitation, she nodded.
“Then what do you say?”
She glared.
It was fun to make her swallow back her pride in order to earn what she desired.
“Please.” The word was so quiet that I barely heard it over the drips of water that leaked from the moss that grew in the corners of the chamber.
“What was that?” I asked.
She glared again. “You heard me,” she said.
I took a step back and crossed my arms. “I’m afraid it’s rather loud down here.” It wasn’t. Dragonstone drank sound. I couldn’t hear a thing outside this room.
“Please.” It burst from her like the staccato blast of a hunting horn, unnecessarily loud, as if she wasn’t entirely in control of the word as it left her.
A wicked grin stretched my face. I flew high off her surrender, drunk on her desperation. Beneath these sensations I still felt caution. I must not get so overcome by excitement that I lost focus and hurt her. My exploration of her body and submission must be precise, controlled, and very, very thorough.
The paddle clattered onto the table as I tossed it away. I might come back to it later but for now, I wanted to see how Eave responded to a sharper pain.
The whip was called a dragontail. A strip of leather was wound tightly around itself and attached to a handle. At the bottom, the leather was thick as a baton, but as my eyes traveled down the length, the leather strip grew thin. At the end, it narrowed to a point. It was about the length of my arm. Experimentally, I swung it away from Eave and saw her eyes widen at the crack it made.
“You’ve never been hit by one of these.” It wasn’t a question. I could tell from the way she’d begun shifting nervously on her toes.
“No—” she began, but I didn’t wait for her to finish. I pulled back my arm and threw the whip. It snapped, the leather tip landing on the pink skin of her outer thigh.
She gasped. Her body jolted. Her eyes grew even wider but they didn’t shift away from me as the pain flashed through her.
“Good girl,” I murmured before I threw the whip again. Crack. A line of red appeared on pink skin. I wanted to bend down and lick along the wound, tickling and teasing Eave where she was most sensitive. But not yet.
Instead, I swung the whip. Back and forth. The cruel leather rained blows on her thighs.
At first, she didn’t make a sound. She only breathed more heavily, her mouth partly open. Lust had flooded her hypnotic eyes, which stared at me. They were pools of want deep enough to drown in.
“Is this what you want?” I asked roughly.
Her thighs were striped red with pinpricks of blood just below the surface.
My mind was buzzing; my awareness had shrunk to include nothing but Eave. Her body. Her breath. The sounds she made and the rising scent of sweat and sex in the moist air.
“Yes,” she said breathily. There was no doubting the truth in the word, even as she began to dance to escape my blows. The chains on her ankles clanked and clattered. If it was possible for my cock to grow harder, it did so now, watching Eave twist to stop me from hitting her most sensitive flesh.
I smiled. She couldn’t stop me. She was helpless, held in place by the chains. All she could do was wiggle and beg.
I aimed for a spot she wanted me to avoid and she cried out for the first time. It was music. High and full of wanting. I’d heard such sounds before, of course, but today, there was no sick scent of terror and death in the air. Nobody was dying and nobody was being abused. Eave was here because she wanted to be, and even though that was incredible to me, I could not deny it.
I took a step forward until the heat of her body baked my already fevered skin. She leaned into me—whether for support or out of desire, I didn’t know. Or care. I put my hand on the small of her back and pulled her close. My body cradled hers.
Her eyes blinked lazily as she tilted her head back. She gave me a little smile. She looked as drunk on the experience as I felt.
“You’re not done,” she whispered.
Her words swept through me like fire. I shuddered beneath their power. She was right—I was still holding back. What would I become when I stopped? A monster like Amon? I couldn’t risk it.
I breathed like a bull and she saw—she saw through me. In exposing her like this, I'd been exposed, too.
“I know monsters and you’re not one,” she murmured.
“You don’t know who I am.”
She smiled more broadly at that. “I could say the same. But names are nothing here. All that matters is that pain means you’re alive. And I want to be really, really alive. Can you bring me to life, please, Caelan?”
It was her ‘please’ that got me. Not forced out angrily like before. Not dripping with lust and fevered thinking. It was vulnerable and honest, evenly spoken. Eave knew just what she was asking for.
My eyes dropped from her earnest face to her breasts. They called to me. Unmarked, exposed. Their hardened nipples were a damn invitation. Just above them on the flat part of her chest were the scars I’d noticed the first time I saw her naked. Thin white lines, faded to various degrees. Four of them.
“Did a man do these?” I asked her. My fingertips pressed one and followed its course.
“No. I did them.”
“Good. So I’ll be the first.”
Finally, I was ready to mark her. Not just with welts and bruises but something more.
I tossed away the whip, my eyes seeking a blade. They caught on one, its sharp edge gleaming. It was short as my longest finger. With this as my tool, I could stay close to her. It would hardly be different from caressing her with my hand. Except she would bleed.
The tiny dagger felt natural as its hilt settled into my palm. Natural as I lifted it to her chest to run it along the most recent of her scars. One wasn’t white yet; it was still pink. I dug in slightly with my blade and a droplet of blood welled up at the tip.
Eave arched her back, leaning into the blade. My hand braced her back, supporting her and pulling her close. My cock, still restrained by my pants, throbbed against her inner thigh.
Her eyes fluttered shut despite my command. A breathy sigh left her. Feather-gentle, I trailed the dagger’s edge down her skin. A fresh pink trail rose up beside the scarred line. My heavy breath fell on it. The delicate blood droplets flattened and rose with the force of my breath. I wanted to dart my tongue out to lick them, and so I did.
I knelt to her neck and kissed her gently. The iron taste of her wet my lips. I licked it off, sucking her essence into me, and then I kissed her in the same place, rougher. I sucked on the raw skin near the wound I’d carved. She tried to twitch away, her brow furrowing at the surprise of pain, but my hand and chains prevented it. My teeth raked Eave’s skin until she shuddered and moaned. She stopped trying to get away and instead, thrust herself back into me again. Her nipples raked my collarbone.
Fuck.
I wanted to dip my fingers inside her and feel her hot, wet want on my fingers. But I forced myself to wait. My attention narrowed on her breasts. They were flushed and coated in a thin sheen of sweat. I wanted to let the blood beneath the surface out.
I trailed the knife down from the flat of her chest to the breast itself. She quivered and the point of the blade danced in response. Eave’s skin was so soft here, so delicate that I’d hardly have to press down at all to cut her.
I twisted my wrist to put small pressure on the blade and watched in fascination as a thin scratch line trailed behind the silver metal I tugged towards her nipple. Eave breathed harder. I removed the blade from her skin and brought it down again on the far side of her breast. I dragged it along the curve of her breast to the sensitive skin underneath. Then I dug in harder and brought it back up towards her nipple. Eave was making little moaning sounds now. Her body was convulsing like she was not sure whether she wanted to lean into me or shift away. It didn’t matter which she did. I would follow her if she tried to dodge and back off my pressure if she leaned in. This was a dance.
I adjusted my grip on the dagger and brought the blade close to Eave’s nipple. I drew a tight circle that grew tighter as I came around again. Blood blossomed behind my path, welling up and painting her skin red. I dragged it lightly across the nipple before I took her into my mouth. I bit down gently with my teeth and drank in Eave’s sharp cry before releasing her. I brought the blade back to her nipple, flicking it and scratching it until her shivers and cries drove me to the edge of insanity.
My mind wandered back down to the hot place between her legs, and I was done making myself wait. My blade carved a path down Eave’s stomach, skipping over her healing wound. My blade crawled lower and lower.
Eave’s head shot up and her big eyes looked at me. There was fright in them. Finally, something fucking scared her.
I pressed the blade down and tiny blood droplets flowed out the delicate skin above her opening. She gasped and tried to tug away from me. The taste in the air had changed. Her fear saturated the small space, mixing with her desire to offer up a heady cocktail.
“Do you think I’m a monster now?” I taunted. My blade kept carving as I tugged it down, even closer to her slit.
Eave’s body was shuddering.
“I wouldn’t move, if I were you,” I advised.
Whatever she saw in my eyes allowed her to overcome her body’s reaction. The shivering quelled. She held utterly still. I took a finger off the hilt of the dagger and swept the finger along her slit.
She cried out as it touched her before her mind processed that it was not the knife. Then she smiled sheepishly, color flooding into her cheeks.
I chuckled. She was soaked. The wet heat of her arousal had leaked out to surround her slit and coat her upper thighs.
“You love this,” I whispered.
“Yes,” she admitted.
Gently, I brought the dagger blade down to the place my finger had touched. Eave’s eyes flew open, growing wider than before. I took my eyes off her face so I could watch my hand. The tip of my blade shivered along her sensitive lips. It was hardly touching her, but she shuddered like she was in the throes of ecstasy.
How would a more brutal pain feel to her now that she was flooded with hyper-sensitivity? I intended to find out.
The cliff I’d feared to step off was far behind me now. My wings were out; I soared through the sky and discovered I’d been born to fly. There was no more doubt. No more masks. No more shame.
There was only me. And Eave. And the cane on the table, which I bent to retrieve.