Chapter 33
Rosomon
Sex is still relatively new to me, and every time I’m aroused, it seems more powerful than the last.
Today is no exception. Zogar came back from his mission wild and lustful.
And I’m game to go along, even though he was a bit rough with his fingers and interrupted the flow, by daring me to walk along the edge of the roof.
I don’t understand why he forced me to do that.
He already knows that I trust him. Doesn’t he?
I’m shocked that he put me in that situation, especially since I’m certain the railing was an illusion. Everything up on this roof is illusion—everything, including this bed that I’m bound to.
When I complained that the bed was too hard, he made it softer, and I’m fully tied down against it, spread open and ready, but I’ve been waiting, for what feels like a very long time. Since he positioned me, he hasn’t touched me again, and the air is cooling the heat in my very damp cleft.
Instead of disrobing, he’s been circling the bed, speaking in some language I don’t understand. My gaze follows, as he makes slow cycles around me, but he’s not even looking at me.
Is this part of the marriage ceremony he skipped when we were in Lymbo? I find myself hesitant to ask, wanting to go along with this ritual, or new sexual game, whatever it is.
Crossing the foot of the bed for the seventh time, he leaps up, landing with his legs spread wide as he looks down at me, licking his lips. “Close your eyes.”
I do as he says.
“Now open them.”
I freeze in fear. It’s not Zogar looming above me. And I’m not on a bed.
I’m bound to a cold marble table surrounded by women chanting under long, hooded robes.
The man—or whatever he is—is handsome and dressed in fine looking clothes, a red shirt that’s clearly silk, and black trousers that perfectly fit his shape.
The bulge at the apex of his legs is large but looks nothing like Zogar’s.
In fact, absolutely nothing about this man looks like Zogar.
This stranger’s hair is so golden it’s nearly white, and his features are strong, almost preternaturally perfect, like he’s been carved that way. I can’t believe I was fooled.
He looked and sounded like my husband, and yet some of his actions, some of his words, the ways he touched me… I should have seen through this illusion. And now that I can properly see, there’s nothing but cruel intent in his eyes.
“Who…” I will my voice to stop shaking. “Who are you?”
“You don’t know?” The man winks and then smiles, exuding warmth and charm, and his bright, pale green eyes flash with humor.
The charm quells my fear slightly, as much as possible given I’m naked, bound to a table, and surrounded by strangers. I don’t know what this man is planning to do, but something about him is familiar. I’ve seen him somewhere in the city but can’t place where.
“Some call me Gabreal,” he says.
My fear returns full force. “Untie me. Now.” I struggle against my tight bindings but can’t move.
He smirks, and I look toward the women. Surely one will take pity on me. Surely, they won’t let this man rape me, assuming that’s what he has planned. Why else would he bind me like this? I shudder, remembering that his fingers have already been inside me.
“What do you want?” I ask as calmly as I can.
“Dearest—” he goes down on one knee “—you’ve already promised me what I want.”
His fingers trace over my spread and bound thighs, roaming dangerously close to my exposed sex, and my body tightens, trying to close every entrance and recoil from this touch. “I’ve promised you nothing!”
“My, my.” His face turns cruel again. “How quickly you forget. You promised me everything.”
He leaps down from the table and stretches his arms to the sides.
Four of the women approach, and quickly strip him of his clothing, leaving him fully naked before me. My angle prevents me from seeing his full body, but what I can see matches his face in sculpted perfection.
But my earlier hints of desire have been replaced by terror, anger and repulsion.
He leaps back onto the table, and my terror expands. His rod is fully erect and, while not as big as my husband’s, it’s badly misshapen. Perhaps afflicted with some kind of pox.
“Do you like what you see, my pet?” His lips transform into a snarl as his fingers stroke the lumps covering his member. “You asked, you practically begged, for me to ram this cock repeatedly inside you.”
He shifts forward, stepping over my bent and bound legs to straddle my torso, then he lowers himself to kneel, shifting forward until his cock is near my face and filling my vision.
“See these knobs?” He strokes himself. “Once activated, they’ll claim you as mine.” As he strokes his rod, he tightens his grip, and his face reveals twisted pleasure.
The knobs expand, dozens of them pushing out from his rod, growing and pulsing and changing shape; some turn sharp at their ends.
Gabreal lowers his hand to fondle his stones, and each protrusion on his erect rod forms a barb at its end.
“These clever barbs—” He flicks one, and I see clear pleasure in his eyes. “They will mark you forever as mine.”
My gaze lifts from his cock, and he laughs.
“You’re wondering if it will be painful.” Still laughing, he shakes his head, and his light hair floats around a face I can’t believe I thought handsome. “Silly girl. Of course it will be painful.” His hand strokes my face. “Nothing worth having can be gained without pain.”
He adjusts his kneeling position. His rod lands against my chest, and the barbs dig into my skin, threatening to cut but not piercing.
“When I reach my climax,” he says. “These barbs will implant inside you. Once installed, they’ll ensure you remain forever faithful. Nothing will ever enter your body again. Not without excruciating pain.”
I shiver in fear, and he smiles down at me, almost as if he thinks he’s offering me something desirable.
“Like the other lucky females I’ve chosen as brides, after tonight, you will be forever marked as mine.” He presses his fingers against my lips. “Every man, every woman, will desire you, but none will dare touch you.”
I try to keep my lips closed, but he forces his fingers between them, pushing them so deeply into my mouth that I gag. I can’t believe I welcomed this earlier.
“And like all my other wives, someday I will grant you a child.”
He reaches back to stroke between my legs, pressing his fingers hard against my entrance. I gurgle against the fingers in my mouth, now pushing against the top of my throat.
“The day I choose you to carry my child, the implanted barbs will release my seed.” Leaning back, he forces a finger into my tightly squeezed entrance.
“Your efforts to keep me out are futile.” His finger presses deeper. “Tightening your cunt will only cause you more pain, and me far more pleasure.”
His fingers exit both my mouth and my cunny, and he leaps to his feet.
“My husband will kill you!” I glare at him. “If you do this, he will burn you alive!”
Gabreal laughs. “Your faith in your dragon shifter is sweet, my dearest, but sorely misplaced.” His smirk returns, his face now devoid of any trace of its earlier charm. “Your husband and I struck a deal. He offered you as a sacrifice to appease me.”
I shake my head. Zogar would never do that.
Dread mushrooms inside me. Is it possible what Gabreal is saying is true? In our marriage vows, Zogar and I pledged to make sacrifices for each other. But he’s also vowed to do whatever it takes to bring balance back to the Darkness.
Am I the price he paid to succeed?
No. I refuse to believe it. I don’t want to believe it. Zogar is searching for this demon and… A new fear takes hold. What if Zogar is hurt? What if this demon, or his followers captured my husband—or worse?
Gabreal kneels again, this time between my widely spread legs. The women around us join hands, moving closer, chanting and singing with high pitched sounds that hurt my ears and amplify my fear.
Gabreal’s fingers test my entrance again. “Still squeezed so tight.” He shakes his head. “Foolish girl.”
One of the women steps forward, close enough that I can see her face under her hood.
I suck in a breath. It’s Eleanor. She was at the council meeting.
“Relax,” she says. “You have no idea what an honor it is to be chosen by our Lord.” She cups my cheek, and her hand is even colder than the expression in her eyes.
“Don’t make this worse. Yield to our Lord and Master.
If you display gratitude for his gift, he may grant you some pleasure along with the pain.
” She leans closer. “And he might finish more quickly.”
For a brief second, I detect what almost looks like a hint of empathy in her eyes.
“Over time, you’ll get used to the pain from the barbs,” she says.
“And we—his entire legion of wives—we will care for you as you heal. Being bound to Gabreal brings great privilege and standing in this city. You’ll never want for a thing, and someday, when you are chosen, you will bear him a child, exchanging your life for another far more powerful and worthy than you. ”
Looking at her, I shake my head, trying to use my eyes to implore mercy.
The mage strokes my face again. “To be clear, when Gabreal’s child enters the world, those barbs will tear you apart. But it’s a small sacrifice to make for Gabreal.”
The demon’s fingers leave my sex, and I shudder as the hard end of his member replaces them, pressing against me.
His head tips back, and he chants again in some strange tongue.
Two tails appear behind him, barbed and flicking from side to side.
Shifting forward, the tails wrap around my bound knees to spread me even wider.
I scream, hoping someone, anyone, will hear. Surely one of these mages will take pity.
Eleanor turns my face toward her. “Your screams are but fuel for our Lord. They’ll prolong his pleasure and your agony. And should he tire of hearing them, his tails will fill your throat and steal your voice forever.”
The long tails leave my legs and flick forward.
I close my eyes, squeezing every part of my body and bracing for pain.
The air rushes around us. A strong wind stirs the dust and gravel on the bare rooftop. This must be part of his magic.
The rushing wind continues to pulse, and I squint open my eyes.
Zogar. He’s come.
Zogar’s talons scrape the graveled rooftop, and the mages scatter. A long stream of fire heats the wind, and I shut my eyes against the intense brightness.
“You think you can stop me, dragon?” Gabreal says. “You’re too late. The incantations are complete. Your small human is mine now.”
I force my eyes open. Gabreal’s standing between my legs, facing away from me, and his tails flick side to side. On some passes, their sharp, barbed ends slice shallow cuts in my flesh. I try to flatten myself to escape, but it’s futile.
Zogar roars. Another stream of fire erupts, this time just to the right of the table, and the marble beneath me heats.
Gabreal laughs. “Go ahead, dragon. Burn me. I might survive your flames. She will not.”
The bindings holding me vanish, but before I can process my freedom, Gabreal lifts me off the table, holding me tightly in front of him and using me as a shield against Zogar’s fiery breath.
Zogar’s wings drop, and within seconds, he’s turned into a man.
Raising his hands, he steps toward us, palms forward. “You win,” he says.
“Your concession is wise.” Gabreal’s hand tightens around one of my breasts.
“Unhand my queen!” Zogar shouts.
“Have you such a poor memory?” Gabreal laughs. “Moments ago, you gave her to me.”
“Never!” Zogar shouts. “I merely agreed not to use my fire to free her. She is mine!”
“Not for long, dragon. You lack allies in the Darkness, and I have many.”
Far in the distance, winged creatures appear against the red sky. Dozens of winged creatures are flying through the sky toward us. Zogar is powerful, but he’s badly outnumbered.
“Release her,” Zogar says firmly. “Release her, and I will leave you to destroy the Darkness. I will leave you in peace and never return.”
“Why would I trust your word?” Gabreal shakes his head. “But I do trust your devotion to this small human.” His hand tightens around my breast and the other hugs me so tightly I fear for my ribs.
Zogar lunges forward, but something stops him. The mages are still on the roof and are gathered into a tight circle around Eleanor. She’s holding her arms toward Zogar. Together, the mages have created a barrier to stop him.
“Again, release her, and I will leave the Darkness and never bother you again.”
“This human is nothing special.” Gabreal squeezes me. “I’ve only claimed her to vex you.” The barbed ends of his tail appear in front of me, slicing fine lines into my flesh, and marking an X on my belly.
“Keep your promise and this wound will heal.” Gabreal’s hand traces the cuts on my skin, his touch like salt on the wounds.
“But if you return to the Darkness, these wounds will burst open. They will fester and ooze. Scarabs and snakes will devour her flesh, gnawing her organs from the inside. No medicines or magic will help her, and she’ll suffer a long and painful death. ”
“Release her,” Zogar says. “Release her now, and I will never return to the Darkness.” He transforms back into a dragon, and the roof vibrates as he digs his wing’s spike into its surface.
Gabreal licks my neck. Anger flashes in the flickering facets of Zogar’s eyes, and he raises his head, as if preparing to breathe fire, but then Gabreal releases me.
“Take her.” He pushes me forward, then rubs his hands together. “I have thousands of wives. Most far more worthy. This human is nothing to me.” He laughs as I run toward Zogar.
“Dragon, you are no threat,” Gabreal says, “but I’m glad that our deal will save me the annoyance of killing you.”
I climb onto Zogar’s back and quickly shift back onto his pommel. Wearing nothing but the necklace he gave me, his scales feel firm but soft between my bare legs.
Zogar rises into the air, and then turns back to circle the building, filling the entire rooftop with flames. Screams arise from the mages, but Gabreal stands defiant.
Arms raised over his head, Gabreal laughs as he burns.