Chapter 3 #4
She clutched at the bedding and gritted her teeth.
They were no longer holding her open, but they were holding her down.
Patrick slid the root in and out, triggering a burning wave of discomfort with each rotation.
Tingling pain washed over her in waves. She gradually stopped struggling and breathed through each stinging surge.
As she adjusted to the stimulation, other sensations began to develop. Her core ached, fluttering needfully as the root slid in and out. Her nipples tightened and her clit twitched. Once again, Patrick’s cruel treatment was arousing her traitorous body.
“You’re getting wet,” Patrick noted with a chuckle. He continued to fuck her with the root as he crawled closer. “I thought this might work, but you’re responding much faster than I anticipated.” He found her entrance with his cock and pushed inside. “Does it burn, sweet slave?”
She opened for him, her wetness easing his way inside. When she’d taken half his length, he paused and fucked her faster with the effosel. Stinging heat exploded in her ass and Heather cried out.
“That’s for making me wait.”
His entire length filled her as he drew the effosel all the way out.
Thank God, she thought, but her relief was premature.
He pushed the root back into her bottom as he pulled his hips back.
The burning sting erupted each time he slid the root inside her and his cock felt huge in her core.
She held perfectly still and tried to hide from the sensations bombarding her body.
Pain, fullness, and motion combined in a staggering storm.
She hovered on the brink of orgasm, but he was careful not to push her over.
“Good girls welcome their masters with a wet pussy and open legs.” He pounded into her now, cock and effosel moving as one. “Come for your master.” Patrick reached around her hip and found her clit, pinching the sensitive nub just hard enough to trigger her orgasm.
Heather screamed as sensations blasted through her. Her core pulsed around his surging cock and her bottom tightened around the effosel root, which intensified the sting. She cried out again as pain erupted along her back passage. Her cries and struggles only urged him onward.
He quickly withdrew the root and tossed it aside.
Then his cock filled her again and again.
He fucked her fast and hard, forcing her to take his entire length with each brutal thrust. She fisted the covers and tried to distance her mind from her body.
His strong hands gripped her hips, and the surging penetration of his cock made her efforts nearly impossible.
Still, she would not allow him to victimize her.
His movements slowed and one of his hands slipped between her thighs. “I like my slaves wild and willing. Not silent and resentful.” His fingers found her clit and began to circle as he resumed his powerful thrusts.
Heather wiggled, trying to avoid his unwanted caress. She would not enjoy this, refused to give him the satisfaction of making her come again. But his touch was skillful and persistent, and the forceful motion of his cock was far more evocative than she was willing to admit.
“Come for me, slave.” He lightly pinched her clit. “Come right now.”
The second pinch was harder, and despite her determination to resist, Heather’s body obeyed.
An orgasm tore through her with enough force to drag a frustrated scream from her throat.
She shook as her core clenched and released, gripping his cock as it continued to thrust deep inside her.
She was still floating in orgasmic euphoria when he pulled out and came on her back.
She collapsed onto her stomach, dazed and overwhelmed.
Why did they have to use pleasure to punish her? It was so damn confusing.
“You did well,” Patrick offered begrudgingly. “Perhaps tomorrow you will surrender without so much pain.” Without giving her time to respond, he righted his clothing and left the cottage.
She rolled to her side facing the wall. He made it sound as if his harsh treatment had been her fault. Typical.
Gabriel covered her with a blanket. His orange eyes were filled with concern. “Do you need anything before I go check on him?”
She shook her head and turned her face away. What she needed most was some time away from them, time to process what had just happened.
“We’ll talk in the morning,” he said after a tense pause. “There’s much I need to say to you.”
She couldn’t imagine why she would give a shit what he had to say, but she wisely kept the opinion to herself. She waited until she heard the front door open and then close before she released the tears burning in her throat.
Gabriel clasped his hands behind his back as he crossed the moon-bathed yard in front of the cottage. Patrick stood facing the valley, his wings unfurled. “Hold on,” Gabriel called. “Talk to me before you take off.”
Patrick glanced over his shoulder, but his wings flapped. His feet momentarily left the ground, then he landed and reversed the partial shift. His wings disintegrated in a shower of tiny sparks. “Say what you came to say. I need the sky.”
“Understood.” Gabriel moved to stand beside his best friend, but he chose his words carefully. “Your anger is understandable, but she is our mate. We need to—”
“She ignored the suffering for two long years. She sensed our connection and still did nothing.” His voice grew louder, his tone more urgent with each statement. “She deserves what I gave her and more. I will not forgive her indifference. I can’t. Krew is dead because—”
“Heather is not responsible for what happened to Krew. I am.” Gabriel faced Patrick, but Patrick stared out over the valley.
A swarmy flew up to them, its wings flapping so fast that they hummed mechanically.
He waved it away, not in the mood to interact with the local fauna.
“If you continue to punish her, you’ll ruin any hope we have of claiming her.
And I happen to think she’ll make a wonderful mate. ”
“I won’t just let it go.” He took a step back and manifested wings, the motion smooth and instantaneous. “I can’t.” He propelled himself skyward with urgent flaps of his massive wings.
Gabriel watched him soar until the darkness swallowed his image. “Damn it,” he muttered and headed back to the cottage.
Heather lay much as he’d left her, curled on her side facing the wall.
Barely discernible sobs told him she was crying, but it was apparent that she didn’t want him to know.
He released a heavy sigh and walked into the bathroom.
Trapped between a rock and a hard place.
The adage had never felt more appropriate.
Retrieving a washcloth from under the sink, he wet it with warm water and returned to the bedroom. Patrick kept assorted garments in a chest near the bed. Lifting the lid as quietly as possible, Gabriel found a large pull-on shirt, then closed the chest.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said softly as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
She lay there passively as he lowered the blanket so he could wash the smears of semen off her back and buttocks.
Her bottom was still pink and there were a few faint welts, but Patrick had clearly controlled his strength while he spanked her.
Gabriel tried to turn her over and she resisted, curling into a tighter ball.
“Roll to your back,” he directed in a firm, authoritative tone. “Do it right now.”
She obeyed with obvious reluctance, her entire body stiff. Her face was averted, eyes tightly closed.
He cleaned his cum off her skin, carefully keeping the cloth between her body and his fingers. When he’d finished, he set the washcloth aside and said, “Sit up.” She reached for the blanket, but he quickly pulled it to the foot of the bed. “Do as you’re told.”
She slowly sat up, resentment hardening her expression.
“Rydaria is not Earth,” he stressed. “You’ve been here long enough to understand why we say that so often. We’re no longer human. Our instincts and urges have been intensified. We’re not capable of less savage behaviors.”
She stared back at him in silent defiance.
“Adjust your attitude or you’ll lose the shirt.”
Her features gradually relaxed into a neutral expression.
He held out the shirt.
She snatched it from him and quickly put it on.
With her lush body covered, the beauty of her face was even more apparent.
Her long golden hair formed an untidy cloud around her head, yet the wildness drew attention to her delicate features.
Wide blue eyes, a small well-shaped nose, and slightly pouty lips.
Gabriel felt his cock harden and averted his gaze.
He could not soothe her if the only thought in his mind was to bury his dick deep inside her again.
He cleared his throat and took a deep breath before dragging his gaze back to her lovely face.
“Your upset is understandable,” he started. “I won’t try to convince you that our expectations aren’t harsh. I know how unnatural this feels to you.”
“But this is Rydaria, so I need to learn to live with it?” Sarcasm dripped off every word.
He should reprimand her for her sass, but he was hoping to balance Patrick’s autocratic edge with a little understanding.
“Are you in pain?” He gentled his tone, making it an inquiry rather than a demand for information.
“I can interrupt pain signals with my vocal commands.” He could also trigger waves of agony, but she didn’t need to know the full extent of his powers.
“Is my assistance something you would welcome?”
She reluctantly met his gaze as she folded her legs in front of her and tugged the shirt down to cover them.
She fidgeted for a moment, rocking her weight from side to side.
She was clearly searching for a comfortable position.
“My ass feels like it was walloped with a belt, but I need the reminder.”