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“You are here because you crossed me,” he says. “And at the time, I was furious. You put me at risk. Not only did your little stunt of infiltrating our world make all the lords exceptionally suspicious, it led them to question everything. I was afraid I would be revealed. And I was impressed at the bravery, and intelligence, and strength of will it must have taken to do what you did. I decided I wanted you. So I took you. It is as simple as that.”
But it’s not that simple. Nothing is simple when you're standing in a graveyard full of a man’s past, knowing that the future is very possibly already growing inside you.
“You took me because there’s no risk of loving me,” I suggest. “I’m a female you can lust after, fuck, use, impregnate, without risk of connection because I am an enemy.”
“You are an enemy,” he agrees. “Now, back to your room. And if my daughter comes to you again, do not entertain her delusions. Her mother is gone. Forever.”
5
Now I know the truth. Cruel politics, mass loss of life, and a powerful man with a broken heart who wants to fuck without emotional attachment. It’s a story as old as the rise of civilizations itself.
We are using each other, he and I. To him, I am someone to safely fuck without reminding him of his elegant and beautiful Dinavri wives. I am a soft human vessel for lust and he does not have to worry about fearing my loss, because he does not have to feel anything at all.
To me, he is a sperm factory. He will give me what I want, a baby, and then I will be gone.
So the two of us settle into an uneasy truce for a matter of weeks. The time for my bleeding comes and goes without it happening, but I know that there are no guarantees. I might skip one period and then start again. I need to miss at least three cycles to feel safely impregnated. That is my plan. I have been his captive for three weeks now. I will stay for a total of twelve. It is cold, and it is calculated, but these are the mathematics of the life I find myself living.
Sithren comes to me of an evening of the twenty third day of my captivity.
“I want you to put this dress on and come have dinner.”
“Why? Want to show me off to some official?”
“Tethys has been asking for us to have a meal together.”
I am surprised by that. “Last time I saw her, she was screaming her loathing at me.”
“She does that. It means very little. She has her mother’s temper.”
“I don’t think we should play happy families, Sithren. It might give her the wrong idea. I don’t want her getting attached…”
“Why? Because you think you are going to be allowed to escape?”
“Because I’m not her mom.”
His expression softens slightly. “Perhaps, one day, you might want to be.”
No. God no. Hell. No. I am an abducted victim of this Dinavri lord. I did not come to play stepmom to his daughter in the wake of a tragic mass poisoning. I cannot believe he is thinking such a thing. Our relationship is adversarial at its core. There is no way whatsoever we will ever be anything more than captor and captive. I won’t allow it.
“How may I tempt you to dinner?” He cocks his head. “Another dose of seed perhaps, you insatiable little fuck toy? Will you play nice if I sate you with sperm?”
The worst thing about that teasing taunt is that it is accurately aimed at the core of what I want. I have found a sort of redemption in sex with Sithren. When he is inside me, I am not myself. I am his. And that is a reprieve not just from my captivity — if anything it is a deepening of my captivity. But more than that, it is an escape from my thoughts. I do tire of my thoughts.
Sithren takes hold of me and tosses me down on the bed. He handles me as if I weigh nothing. I am a toy to him. I am something to be used. And I let him use me. I spread my thighs and I submit. It’s not a true submission. It is a sexual surrender that benefits me.
His serpent tongue finds the core of me, hot and flickering and ever so agile. It plays over my clit and finds the folds of my lips, exploring me with the most delicate of touches. It is so fleeting and soft it makes me strain my hips toward it.
I am ready to come even before he slides inside me, my legs held aloft and parted in his scaled hands, my pussy leaking juices of need. I am ready for him as he teases me with slow, undulating movements of his cock across my lips, letting me feel the ripples against my pussy that feel so sinfully good inside it.
