Nefarious Adventure
By Evil Orange Crayon
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters present in this story, whether they are owned by Disney or other folks.
Warning: And this is a serious warning. The start of this chapter contains content that is of a HARD M rating. It not only contains material that is sexual, but the consent is dubious on one account and out right rape in another. If reading rape is of any sort of trigger for you, I would highly suggest that you skip it. Don't read it. If you do read it, then you ignored this warning and hear by made it so I don't have to feel bad for offending you.
So, in the event you were unable to guess just who Victor Nefarius is, I'll educated you. Victor Nefarius is none other than Nefarian, or Blackwing, a raid boss that appeared in Blackwing Lair and Blackwing Descent in the popular mmo World of Warcraft. If you are a player of the game, don't worry. I am not at all making an Enchancia/Azeroth cross over. I'm just borrowing Searing Gore and Burning Steppes and the black dragon-flight. I promise. If you are unfamiliar with the character and my description of him wasn't very good I highly suggestion you just type Victor Nefarius into google images search and see what I meant when I said, "hm... he is smexy." You might also see other familiar names, some are characters borrowed for the moment others are because well... I just needed a name.
Don't worry. It'll move by more quickly. You're just gonna have to deal with the lack of Sofia/Cedric for another chapter or two. I'll get there, I promise promise!
"Take us to a higher altitude. In the event she struggles or screams, I don't want to startle any villages we might fly over," he said calmly.
"Yes, sire," the driver slid the window closed again and the carriage tilted just slightly as it was drive to go higher up.
Her stomach dropped and she stared at him in growing panic, "What?"
His hand was at her back, as if to steady her, she felt fingers slide between the lace edge and swept along the top of her back. "I have done as you bade, I have behaved myself. I even went so far to cease my seduction of you," he spoke evenly.
"Can you not wait until we get to your castle?"
"I have waited long enough," there was a sudden sharpness pressing against her back, it didn't break the skin but it skimmed along it. She sat up straighter, a fine tremor going through her. "I will give you a choice, however, I intend to take what I want one way or another," he spoke nonchalantly, as if he weren't about to hurt her. "You can fight me and I will destroy this lovely gown you are wearing. Or, you can allow me to have what I want. I don't intend to bother with fighting the laces of the gown or corset," the sharpness shifted from her skin and she felt the dress start to loosen, he was slicing through the laced up back. "But, if you do not fight me I will have it mended."
"You agreed you wouldn't raise your hand against me in violence," she said it harshly, wanting nothing more than to have her wand on her. Unfortunately, she foolishly put it away in one of the trunks.
"I don't intend to be violent," he smiled, while he looked handsome it felt as if she were spying at a snake in the grass. "I intend for it to be very enjoyable. For at least one of us." He had began to work the buttons lose to his jacket. "Do you intend to put up a fight?"
She could feel him cutting through her gown and corset, fear rising up on her skin as the blade that he used brushed against her skin. She looked away from him, staring ahead at the empty seat. "I don't want this," her voice shook. "But, I won't fight."
"Very good," he purred, leaning forward to kiss her cheek then trail his mouth down to her neck. She felt tears start to course down her cheeks, but she held her head high and remained sitting up straight as he cut through her garments then went about removing his own. Once the blade ended at her tailbone, he shed his coat and then pulled the white pressed tunic over his head with the undershirt. The clothing was tossed carelessly to the floor of the carriage. "I'm taking this to mean," he breathed against her ear as she sat stoic, "That you won't be a willing participant and I will be forced to do all the work?"
She considered not answering, fear and anger now flowing through her blood like fire. She turned her head to glare at him, "As far as I am concerned you are forcing yourself on me. Am I wrong to make that assessment?"
He pulled back just enough to see her expression, he chuckled lightly, "If that's the way you deem to look at it, I won't argue it. It just makes this a little less enjoyable." He pulled the sleeves of her dress down, then fisted a hand in the bodice grasping the corset as well. He jerked the gown down pulling it from her torso and exposing her breasts to his gaze. "If this is how you want to take this, then that's how you will. It won't deter me," he said evenly. "I did advise you when you agreed to this that this was what I wanted."
Once her arms were free she went to cover her chest, suddenly feeling as if he stripped her of more than just her clothing. "I didn't realize you would be so cruel," she clipped, her anger was diminished by the waiver in her voice. Somewhere in the back of her mind was a small voice that screamed, 'you were right! You were right all along!'
"I would hardly say that this qualifies as cruel," he had paused in his undressing of her to kick off his boots and start to untie and loosen the laces of his breeches. "But, I do suppose if I were on the receiving end of this I could see the cruelty in it." He didn't wait, he pushed his breeches down and off, depositing them into the pile of clothing, "I could tell you I have done worse. Though, I imagine that won't be much of a comforting thought for you." He hitched an arm around her waist and with one sharp pull he managed the gown down her hips. It pooled around her ankles, but was caught on her petticoats. He cursed lightly in impatience and set her down, reaching behind her with a rip he managed to get the petticoats to loosen. Another sharp jerk and she was down to nothing but her stockings.
"Please," because now fear was turning into panic and she wasn't sure what to do. This was it for her.
One of his hands went between her thighs, forcing them apart just enough so his fingers could toy with her sex. "I've waited long enough," he repeated, leaning against her as he captured her mouth with his. He wasn't forceful with his kisses and his hand worried to attempt to kindle something between her thighs, but the fear that clung to her did nothing.
At some point he pulled her to the floor of the carriage, impatience becoming more apparent as she didn't seem to respond. She held herself still, not at all fighting as she promised, but not giving any quarter. In apparent frustration he growled, "I've attempted to be giving. But if this is how you intend to do things you will find that it will not be comfortable for you." He was between her thighs, his erection pressed against her sex, "I didn't have the desire to hurt you."
Her brows drew together and she didn't know. What was he talking about? How was anything he had done to her thus far be considered giving? He was over her and his brows drawn together, he shifted one of her legs over a hip then pressed forward. It seemed that, as soon as he pierced her she receded. She didn't feel anything or hear any of the noises he made as he moved above her. Her hands grasped the purple gem on her chest and held it tightly, and somehow it kept her mind safe from the things he did to her.
She came back to herself with a throbbing pain between her thighs, he was still above her though he had pulled his flaccid cock from her. His eyes were narrowed and he watched her carefully, for what she didn't know.
"This isn't how I planned for things to go," he said with a wince.
Her breath hitched and she realized that she had been crying, even though up until now, she had felt nothing. "But you decided to do it anyway," she answered, her tears made her voice sound rough.
"No," he backed away, sitting on the floor and reclining back against the seat. "No, that's not what I meant."
She quickly backed away from him, shifting to the other side and putting as much space between them as she could. She hugged her knees to her chest and used that as a means to cover her nudity. "What do you mean?"
He grimaced and found his coat among their discarded clothing, he threw it at her and looked away, "Let us not dwell upon it." He settled his expression into something more arrogant, "I'm sure I will be hard pressed to find away, but I will do what I can to make up for this … debacle."
She stared at him for a moment then, because there was nothing more she could do, she took his coat and slipped it over her shoulders. "That was my first time... if you are looking for a way to make me forgive you for it, you might as well not bother," she looked away from him, hugging herself. "You should have considered the consequences of your actions before you even started to touch me."
He hummed lightly in agreement, "Hindsight is an unfortunate thing."
"Where is the knife?"
"What knife?" He sounded curious and when she looked at him again, there was something telling on his face. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"What did you use to cut my dress open?"
He opened his hands and showed her his empty palms, "I have no knife." She stared at him in confusion; there had been a sharpness at her back she had felt it. The only thing he did was return her gaze, something in it daring.
The window above her shoulder slid open, cutting through the tension he had created. "Sire, we are approaching Blackrock."
"I don't have the desire to parade through the mountain, land us on the ledge. There should be the appropriate amount of space to land a carriage. You can send word ahead for us to be expected," he said, his voice full of command.
"Aye, sire," and the window slid closed again.
"There will be a party waiting to greet us," he informed her, digging through their clothing to find her shoes. He offered them to her, "The ledge has a bit of, well, it has a bit of debris on it. It's probably in your best interest to wear your shoes."
"What about clothing?"
"I will have your dress mended for you," he assured her. "You don't need to worry about modesty, if you are so concerned feel free to wear my jacket out." He shrugged a shoulder as if it were nothing, "You appearing before them less than decent will not offend anyone."
"It offends me," she said thickly. The idea of wearing his clothing after he forced himself upon her wasn't something she enjoyed.
"Then it is something you can either deal with or find a way to extract revenge," he smiled tightly at her. "If it's the latter I'll look forward to it. It will be well deserved."
Their conversation halted when the carriage came to a bumpy landing then rolled to a halt. The door opened and she huddled further into his jacket, watching in amazement as he stood and exited the carriage without care or concern for the fact that he was nude. There wasn't cheering or anything that gave her worry that there would be a large party of people, but she heard the distinct sound of armored people standing at attention.
He turned to her and raised an eyebrow, "Do you intend to stay here?"
"I don't want to walk out in front of your people without clothing on," she tried to snap at him, but her voice shook.
He seemed to roll his eyes and he looked to someone just outside the carriage, "General Razorgore, your cloak if you please." A cloak was handed to him and he in turn offered it to her. "That should provide you with adequate cover. As I promised I will see to that your gown will be mended," he cast an eye over his shoulder. "When you unload the carriages see to it that Petramia gets the white gown. I'm sure she could use the entertainment."
She took it from him, hastily shedding his jacket and wrapping the cloak around her form. It swallowed her whole and helped mask the scent of him on her skin. There was a similar smokey smell to the cloth that surrounded her now that she couldn't place. Curious as to who had offered it to him, she slipped her shoes on and at his prompting, she moved to step out of the carriage.
The platform had a small array of creatures lined up to receive them. The creature closest to the carriage appeared to be a cross between a dragon and a centaur; he had the head and snout of a dragon and was covered in scales, he had a chest like a man that blended down to a body that had four legs and a scaled tail. He sported armor and looked at her as curiously as she looked at him. Behind him and the rest of the small crowd were two beasts that were similarly strangely built. They had the reptilian head and tail but the form of a man, they towered over everyone as if they were giants.
The more human looking creatures were hardly human. There was small group of willowy humanoids with pointed ears and glowing eyes, they looked like elves but not at all like the elves she remembered from Elvenmoor. Another group that seemed to glower and glare were gray skinned and fierce looking, their jaws jutted forward and there was sharp looking tusks poking up from their lower lip. They were larger than Victor and appeared to be walls of muscle in their primitive looking armor. Then there were the shorter folk of the group, they too were gray skinned and they were stockily built.
"I present you, Princess Sofia of Enchancia," Victor boasted beside her.
She looked around in a daze, trying to take in all the vast differences in the creatures that she saw. At his boast though, they all seemed to make an effort of saluting her in one way or another. Standing tall, or as tall as they could, and placing a fist on their chest. There was roars over head and she looked up, seeing dragons wheeling about in the air in great aerial displays. She was overwhelmed.
A hand pressed at her back and she was propelled forward by Victor as he gestured about him, "Princess this is Blackrock Mountain." The ledge they had landed on appeared to have once been stately, with great stone pillars and a large throne to one side, but there appeared to have been some sort of fight on it. She wasn't sure how recent, two pillars appeared to be smashed from their place. She was guided to a large stone archway, still in something of a daze.
There was a sound behind them and she looked to see one of the delicate looking elves down on a knee, "Sire, we have pressing things to discuss."
"Fall in, Osbidia, we can talk as we walk," he said nonchalantly.
She listened as she was directed through a series of corridors and up then down a set of stairs. If she tried to pay attention to the path she was sure that she would get lost in all the twists and turns. "Onyxia made visits while you were gone," the elf that followed them spoke. Her voice was musical and nearing hypnotic, she found it hard not to peer at her over her shoulder. "She has manage to retrieve the remainder of the clutch that you had pilfered."
"Did we suffer any casualties?"
"They were inconsequential," she answered. "She found Atramedes, though she did him no harm. Maloriak received a punishment, however."
"Atramedes was a failure, I can't say that I'm opposed to any sort of punishment Maloriak may have received from her," they paused at a set of double doors, he waved a hand at them and they drifted open. "For the time being we will leave my sister and her clutch be. We have a bit of a sensitive project now ahead of us, I'm sure if she finds out about it things may become dire." He gestured for her to enter, turning to look back at the elf behind them. "She will not be made aware of it."
She stepped into the room, noting with a bit of apprehension that it was in fact a bedroom. She stood at the foot a large bed and turned to look at Victor and the elf he had referred to as Osbidia, "Sire, she was already made aware of your treaty with Enchanica. I have come to believe that she may also be aware of your-" the elf met her gaze for a long moment, before returning her full attention to him, "Your engagement. I believe she may have informants in your ranks."
He turned to look at her, "This is something that will require my attention. As rude as it may be, I will be leaving you here to adjust on your own. I will place a guard outside the door, if you are in need of anything he or she will assist you. Your belongings will be brought to you. Please, make yourself at home." He turned, seeming unconcerned that he had brought her here and was leaving to see to his castle without a stitch of clothing on. The elf that had joined them didn't seemed to be bothered by it either. "Please, stay here. Once I am able, I will be sure to give you a proper tour of the mountain."
She could only nod, unable to find her voice. She watched as the two of them left her, closing the large doors behind them. He told her to make herself at home, but she couldn't. She had her arms wrapped about her and clung to the borrowed cloak that offered her modesty. She could only stand there and try to digest all that had happened in seemingly such a short amount of time.
She felt something begin to drift down her inner thigh and she shuddered, feeling the meager contents of her stomach start to turn. She didn't know where a chamber pot was and she did her best to swallow the urge to be sick.
The door opening offered her something of a distraction. She watched as two stocky creatures hefted one of her trunks between them. They eyed her with the same open curiosity that she watched them. "Och! Princess!" One with a large swath of beard that fell to cover his chest, "We'll be back with the other, wee lass." They placed the trunk down, "Be just a minute and ye will have all yer things." She watched as they left again, then returned in the same fashion with her other trunk. "I was expectin' some more luggage for such a pretty thing," the one that spoke before piped up.
She watched them unabashed as to how it may be construed, but unable to look away. When they set her other trunk down she managed to remember some bit of herself, "Thank you."
They both look startled and looked at her in amazement, "Aye, lass."
"What are you?" She asked in a hushed tone.
They exchanged a look between themselves then the outspoken one stepped forward, "We be dwarves, lass."
"Of the Dark Iron clan," the other specified. He had rusted red hair pulled back in a short tail, while he didn't sport a beard hair seemed to be covering the majority of his face, save his chin. "Our people were born in these mountains."
"O-oh," she said uneasily, she swallowed hard and offered them a slightly awkward bow. She would have curtsied but her lack of dress made her refrain from doing such a motion. "Thank you for bringing my things to me."
"Och! Lass, it was what we were ordered to do," the first one spoke again. "Aye," he spoke low to his friend. "Wee lass be lookin' a bit pale ta me."
"As pale as humans can get," the other observed. "Get ol' Brigidan in 'ere and she'll have the girl set to rights."
They nodded together, "You wait right 'ere for us, love. We'll be gettin' ye sumpthin' to make ye a little less sickly." With that the two of them exited the room once again. They left the two doors open and she watched as they moved out of view. She turned and took a slight step towards the door, feeling for a fleeting second that she might stumble.
She wasn't left waiting long, the two dwarves returned with another. The two males lingered by the door, the one they brought with them was quite obviously female. She shared their odd color scheme in skin and she had thick hair tied back in a unique braid that went down her back, "Look it the wee lass, Brigy. She be needin' some strong ale to put some color to her skin."
"Aye, aye," the female said thickly. She had brought a tray with her, on it a steaming bowl of stew, a cup, and a flask that had a dark crimson liquid. "I'll see to her. You lot can bugger off now," she said with a sigh. She took the tray to the desk that set off to the right of the door. She picked up the flask and brought it over to her, "Ye alright, girl?"
"I... I don't know," she looked down at her.
"He gave ye a hard bit?" She offered her the flask, "Drink a bit, it'll make yer insides feel better. Then take the rest of it and rub it into yer tender bits. If he were rough wit ye, like I bet he was, it will make the hurtin' go away."
She took the flask, "Thank you."
"Aye, lass, I'll have them fetch ye some water so ye can get yerself clean. It'll make ye feel better, too," she took a hand, reaching into the cloak to find her free one. She gave her a light pat, seeming to judge her based on the feel of her palm, "Ye look like ye could use a bite. I brought ye some soup wit a bit of bread. Soup has no meat innit, so don't ye worry."
She took a swig of the flask and she could immediately feel the affects. She sighed in relief and gave the female dwarf a weak smile, "Thank you."
"I got me own duties to tend to, ye need me, I be Brigidan. Ye tell the oaf at the door and he'll fetch me," she said sternly before walking to the door. "Ye fight 'im," she turned to look. "It nae be a good idea ta fight 'im. Ye be trustin' me on this, we dwarves had been strugglin' to take back this mountain fir a time and have nae managed it. He wants sumpthin' he's gonna be takin' it."
She nodded and watched the female dwarf leave, pausing to instruct the guard she couldn't see to get the water that she needed. With that the doors closed, she assumed to offer her privacy. As she seemed to return back to herself, she sat on the bed and remembered the dwarf's advice about using the potion on her 'tender bits.' With a grimace, she poured a bit of the red liquid into her hand and pressed it between her thighs. She rubbed the liquid against the outer part of her lips then pressed her fingers between them doing her best to rub it around and into her opening. The soreness began to diminish and she found some relief, at least, in some form. She made use of the rest of the potion, making sure to get as much of it into and onto her battered sex as she could.
She was still in the process of easing relief on her tenderness when the doors were thrown open. She stood up quickly and covered herself as one of the large, dragon faced creatures came in bearing a large cauldron of water. It didn't pay her any heed, but trudged past her to what looked to be a bath. She watched as he poured the water into a tub that was sunk into the floor. He turned to her and growled low, "That enough?"
She carefully edged past him, clinging to the cloak she wore. She peered in to see the large tub over half full. She swallowed hard, "Y-yes. Thank you."
It gave her an odd look, before nodding. "There is a hearth you can use to heat the water," his voice was a rough hiss. He pointed a large clawed hand towards the tub, "If you need help, Insidion is outside your door and he will assist you."
She nodded again, watching him leave. Each of them seemed to be surprised when she thanked them. She wondered if Victor treated his people with respect. She went to spy the hearth that he referred to and noticed the steps that led down to it. There was also a chamber pot and screen that offered privacy. She went back to the main room, finding her trunks. She opened one and searched through the pockets in the lid before she went to search the other. She found her wand and went back to the attached bathroom. She found wood in the hearth attached to the tub and carefully cast a small flame to it.
Once that was done, she went about finding the necessary items to bathe. She found towels and clothes to wash with. When she found something resembling soap, she gathered the items and went to the tub. She set the pile down close to the edge, setting her wand on top of it. She shed the cloak and very carefully lowered herself down into the water. It hadn't warmed up much since she lit the fire, but it didn't stop her. There was something that just seemed to cling to her skin, she grabbed the soap and the cloth then began to scrub herself clean.
She became intent on her work, so intent that she hadn't noticed her audience. She didn't even notice him until he stepped into her line of sight, she froze and looked up his form. He hadn't bothered to dress and she had the unfortunate uneasy feeling at seeing that he was excited. He watched her intently for a moment before stepping down into the bath with her, "Did it disturb you so much that you feel the need to scrub me from you?"
She paused, noting the red tent to her skin, "I don't expect that you would understand."
He reclined back against the wall, relaxing as he looked at her, "Perhaps not. Tell me what to do to fix it."
"You want me to tell you how to make it okay that you raped me?"
"No," he said evenly, "I want to know what I can do to … make up for it, if you will." He looked confused, his brows together. "I hadn't realized the consequences to what I was doing until it was too late. Normally," he looked away from her. "I wouldn't care and for some reason, now, I do." He looked uncomfortable then, "If you want to hurt me in return, do so. However, I do want you to know that even if my advances were unwanted there were no stipulations in the agreement that we made. I wasn't violent. I will not return you to Enchancia purely because I had a lapse judgment."
"Is this how sex will be? If I don't want it, you'll take me anyway?"
"You didn't seem to adverse to it before, when it was merely experimentation," he met her gaze again. "Was it the idea of fucking in a carriage that bothered you? Or did the idea of me fucking you that appalled you?"
"I wasn't ready," she answered fearfully. "You cut my dress apart, you were vicious and frightening."
He looked remorseful for a moment then looked away, "I don't want you to be afraid of me. I desire you, I want you. I will have you though I would prefer you to be a willing partner. I don't have the desire to force myself on you or fuck a crying girl." He growled lowly, "Normally, I would not care and I would take you to my heart's content whether or not you wanted me in return." He cast a glare at her from the corner of his eye, "I don't know how you managed to do this to me."
"I've not done anything to you," she argued.
He waved a hand, as if to dismiss the conversation. "That's neither here nor there," he said with a sigh. "It has been a long day and an even longer night. I think it's time that we retire." He stood and got out of the bathtub, walking around it to fetch his own towel. "Come, you've scrubbed yourself enough anymore and you may break the skin."
She sighed and stood, putting the soap and cloth on the stone edge of the tub. She carefully pulled herself from the tub, picking up her wand and wrapping herself up in the towel. She dried herself off then went about delaying the inevitable. He would want her to join him in bed, as he had slept with her back in Enchancia. She took the time to clean her teeth, relieve herself, and then she wandered into the bedroom. She went to her trunks, ignoring him where he lounged on the bed, and began to search for a nightgown and fresh pair of bloomers. She dressed then turned to the desk where the tray of food and the cup was. She would stall more.
She sat down to eat the cold soup, it was made from potatoes and she imagined if she had eaten it when it was hot that it would have been better. She took a sip of the liquid in cup and nearly spit it out. It was bitter and most definitely not water. There was a snort of laughter and she looked at him, he looked amused at her, "They gave you ale. Dwarves do that, they think alcohol should be served with every meal."
She looked at the murky liquid in the cup, it wasn't that it was bad tasting. It just had a bitterness to it and a shock of alcohol that she hadn't expected. She sipped lightly at it and could feel a slightly burn to throat, as it hit her stomach it seemed to warm her. By the time she finished it all her thoughts and fears became muddled, the warmth in her stomach radiated out. She set the cup down on the tray and stood, wavering on her feet. One cup of their ale and she was drunk?
She carefully made her way to the bed and sat on it, staying close to the edge. She pulled the blanket and sheet back and laid back, trying to relax after the trying day she had. He was behind her, on top of the blankets, but she felt the heat that he gave off through them. "Allow me to show you how it should have felt," his mouth was near her ear, his tongue curled along the shell of her ear.
"I don't want you to touch me," she whimpered, because even though what he had done before still weighed on her, having him at her back hardly touching her but breathing and speaking in that tone made her clench her thighs together. How did he manage this?
"I will not hurt you again," he breathed and she whimpered, though it wasn't out of fear. It was more so out of the fact that she seemed to respond this time. Had there been something in the ale? Or were her inhibitions watered down with just one cup? His mouth was on her jaw now and she struggled to hold onto the last threads of her dignity, trying to deny how he was able to create these feelings in her now even after he hurt her.
He leaned into her from behind, through the blankets, making her feel his desire for her. He pulled her rump back against his hips and ground his erection against her. His hand drifted down to her mound, applying just enough pressure for her to feel it in her core. She relaxed against him, remembering the words of the female dwarf. If she fought it, it would be worse. She wasn't sure how long she would be able to survive if she was forced to face him at his worse.
So, she gave in and allowed him to have his way. He seemed to sense it because he threw the blanket out of the way and pressed her onto her hand was between her thighs, but found her bloomers in the way. He pulled them down and out of his way before he cupped her heat. Fingers delved past her lips to stoke the growing fire that had already begun to kindle.
He shifted down her form and before she could think to utter a protest he had a leg on each shoulder. Her nightgown road up and she was afforded a view of him burying his face against her, she tensed for a moment before she felt his tongue press past her lower lips and lap at the length of her opening. It was hard to resist or ignore, when his tongue traced the bundle of nerves at the top of her sex she couldn't keep from quivering. He parted her lips to get better access and began to tease that little button with his tongue.
She couldn't keep from reacting. Her hips rolled upward to encourage him and her hands found their way into his hair. He drove her along drawing lazy circles on her sensitive bits and toying with the out part of her vulva, her inner muscles clenched and she hungered for more. His mouth closed around her clit and he sucked on her hard, her hips bucked and he manipulated her into crumbling to pieces. She panted as she started to reconnect only to have him start anew casting fire against her sensitized nerves.
He pressed a finger into her and lapped at her, she started rolling her hips against his mouth and hand. Satisfied, he went back to toying with her clit and it wasn't long before she crumbled again. He pressed on, even as she started to groan out a protest. The feeling of the orgasm seemed to extend with direction of his hand and mouth and when she was sure she would truly come to pieces. As if sensing how undone she was, he moved up her form. Before she could reconnect, he slid into her.
"This," he growled above her, trembling as he held still. "This is how it was supposed to be," he shook hard as she clenched around him.
It hurt, but the pain wasn't as intense as it had been in the carriage. It was more of a discomfort of being stretched and she felt incredibly full. He seemed to be waiting for something, there was a fine tremble in his arms and his face showed some strain from it. His eyes were clenched closed and his teeth bared just slightly. There was an ache, a throb, and she clutched at him. She wasn't sure what he was waiting for, but there was more to it than this.
Her fingers dug into his back and he seemed to twitch, as if he were struggling with something. Then he started to withdrawal, slowly. The feel of him pulling out startled her, she laid still as his cock seemed to brush over something within her. He was nearly out of her when he immediately thrust back into her and the swiftness that he hit that inner something drew a soft cry from her. Her eyes closed, focusing instead on the feelings that he created rather than what he was doing. The discomfort she felt seemed to melt away in favor of this new feeling. He began a light, careful rhythm, similar to those nights where he would rub against her. Only, this magnified the feelings. He was in her, he filled her to the brim and she clung to him.
This is how it was supposed to be?
Her fingers dug into his back and she heard him growl lowly, felt him throb within her. The overwhelming burn from before, when his head was between her thighs, only seemed to be greater. Instinct drove her, her legs wrapped around his hips and rolled them up to meet his. She was close to another crash, it was right within her grasp. Something told her it would be so much more than the others. She struggled to move in a dance she didn't understand, striving to grasp something just within reach and just as she could get her figurative fingers on it she shattered. All feeling and thought went to the wayside, focused was purely on where he was joined with her. When she regained herself she felt him trembling and the surety of the rhythm he had created began to stutter. He cursed low by her ear, a word she couldn't understand, then she felt the hot liquid erupt in her. He kept thrusting, once then twice more, before he seemed melted onto her.
He seemed to struggle, leaning heavily on her. "That," he panted as if he had been in some sort of battle. "That was how it was supposed to be," he leaned his brow against hers and she found that she was out of breath, too.
Though it may be in part due to the fact that he was laying on her, "You're heavy."
"Forgive me," he said with a chuckle. "I didn't expect that you would be able to leave me feeling so weak," he pushed himself up on to his elbows, leaving it so that they were still connected. He had become soft and she thought, hoped, that he would be satisfied. "Would you be averse to doing this again?"
"I was hoping you would let me sleep," she said carefully.
"Not now," he laughed and then groaned as he pulled himself from her. "I think sleep is definitely in order," he moved to the side, though he stayed close to her. He buried his nose against her neck, "I asked because I feel as if I am growing addicted to you."
"Be gentle," she closed her eyes as the lack of sleep started to pull on her.
"Yes," he said in a low purr, turning her face so that he could kiss her. "You are a precious treasure that I will not tarnish again."
That was a promising thought, she sighed and gave into exhaustion and tumbled into sleep.
She was surrounded and warm, comfortable. Strong arms were wrapped around her and she felt a warm body holding her close. Her brows drew together, "Did you forget to leave my bed again?" She stretched against him, feeling a slight ache between her thighs. She knew who was beside her, his scent clung to her and her bedding.
He hummed and she felt his face buried against the crown of her head. "No," he murmured, his hand running up her thigh to rest on her hip. "This is my bed," he chuckled then, "Our bed I should say."
Her eyes opened and she sat up, despite the arms that held her close. She looked around the room and discovered that, much to her chagrin, that the previous night hadn't been a dream. "It really happened?"
"You slept hard," he observed. "But, I assure you it wasn't a dream." He sat up beside her, "All the unfortunate details from the previous day did occur." He studied her expression carefully, "While I feel like I have shown you what you should expect from sex between us, I'm not fool enough to think that would make up for my … transgression on the way here." He took one of her hands into his, "I need you to tell me how to make up for it."
Her brows drew together and she watched him carefully, "You don't do something like that to someone and expect them to be able to forgive it."
"I didn't think you were the type of woman to hold grudges," he complained before moving to get out of the bed. He stood and walked into the bathroom with a sound of frustration following him.
"This isn't a petty thing that I am holding against you," she snapped after him. Apparently sleep was what she needed to get her nerve back, "You can't just take everything you want and not expect consequences."
He stepped back into the main bedroom, dressed his dark armor and a flaming crown above his head. He offered her a smile, "I am facing the consequences of my actions. It is what has kept me from pouncing you now and having my way again. Restraint is not something I enjoy practicing," he went to the door, taking a moment as he seemed to consider something. "There are a few things that I have to take care of. I will need a week, at the very least, to prepare the mountain for you to be able to move about freely in. Given when that is done I will give you the tour I promised." He looked back at her, "Give you the opportunity to see the golems we discussed in our letters."
She pulled the blanket up to cover her breasts, though it probably wouldn't do anything to deter him. "I look forward to seeing them," she hesitated. "If you're going to expect me to stay in here, what am I going to do?"
He waved a hand to the walls, which were lined with shelves filled with books. "Every book I could get my hands on are at your disposal. Many of them, I might add, are tomes of magic. There are at least one or two that are well… of great importance to some." He smiled tightly at that, "And they may not remain on the shelf for very long. I would suggest you take the time to pursue them. If you require anything Obsidia and Insidion are just outside your door. If you are in need of anything feel free to ask one of them to retrieve it for you." He opened the doors and stepped out into the hallway, pausing to speak to her guards, "See to it that she is fed properly."
"Yes sire," a male and a female voice answered. Then the doors drifted shut and she was left alone.
She stood, feeling discomfort between her thighs but it wasn't as bad as it had been the first time. She went to the bathroom and made an effort of trying to maintain something of her usual routine. She cleaned herself up, taking care to cleaning up her sex, then brushed out the previous days events from her hair. She relieved herself then went about finding something she could easily dress herself in. As she was digging through the complicated gowns that had been packed for her she found her journal. The one her sorcerer had created for her. She set it on the bed and found a simple dress she could manage to get on by herself.
Once dressed, she picked up the journal then went to the desk and found an ink pot and quill in one of the drawers. There was a temptation to pursue the shelves as he had bid her to do, but first she had thoughts she needed to express. She sat down in the wooden chair and opened the book. She studied the contents, looking for anything new he might have added then paused.
'Damn you,' a message read. 'Damn you for doing that to me and not giving me the chance to even try to save you. Damn your logic! Damn your insufferable need to do everything that is right!' It made her heart hurt, "Damn you for making me fall for you and then kissing me like that only to have to leave! Damn you!' She tried to not let the tears spill over her cheeks, she had cried enough. His anger was righteous though. 'Please, tell me you're alright.'
She laughed shakily, of course he would get out all of his anger then show concern. She dipped the quill into the ink and began to write, 'I'm alright. I survived.' She considered how much she should tell him, he wouldn't like it to know that Victor had forced himself on her. She didn't like to think of it. 'I survived,' she wrote again, because seeing the words seemed to make her feel better.
'There's a whole lot more here than I thought there would be. There are so many creatures that I've never seen before and I don't even know what they are. There are dragons. A lot of them. There are also elves and dwarves (they said they were of the Dark Iron clan).
I keep feeling like dad agreed to this without really knowing what he agreed to. Though, I can't say that I've ever really knew him to make such rash decisions without good reason.'
The doors opened, a slender woman walked in carrying the dress she had worn the night before, just after her appeared to be human and had lovely black hair that flowed down her back, she wore black leather breeches and a crimson colored tunic. "Princess?" She turned to spy her at the desk then gave her a deep bow. "I am Petramia, Lord Nefarian ordered me to mend your gown," she showed her the back of the gown with a flourish.
She hadn't been sure of the damage he had done to her gown, but she shivered at the memory of the sharpness of the blade he used to cut through it shot through her mind. "Thank you, Petramia," she took great care to remember the girl's name. Noting the similarities that all the human looking creatures seemed to have. Black hair, crimson colored eyes, dark skin. Were they all related? Did she refer to Victor as Nefarian? She decided to file that away and focus on the pretty white gown the other girl seemed to be admiring. "I really appreciate you taking the time to mend it for me," she started warily. "I hate to say this, but I don't think it's something I could wear again."
She saw the other girl's gaze narrow, "Why not? The dress is beautiful."
She swallowed hard, "If you like it, you are more than welcome to keep it. It's a beautiful gown. I'm sure it will look gorgeous on you."
The woman she spoke to looked unsure, "I can keep it?"
She smiled brightly at her, staying seated at the desk. "If he questions it, I will let him know that it was a gift."
The other woman looked struck, as if she hadn't anticipated kindness from her. She bowed to her deeply, "I pledge my wing and claw to you, my lady."
"Petramia," there was a hiss and she turned to look at the door, seeing the elf Obsidia standing in the doorway. "That is enough, give her the dress and go back to your duties."
"She said I could keep it," the human woman started to argue, holding the gown to her chest.
"I did," she piped up, not wanting to create a problem even though she was confused. "She put the hard work into mending it and… and I don't think I will be able to wear it again. It would be a waste, s-she should keep it." She received a dark look from the elf and suddenly felt nervous, "If you're worried about what Victor will say, I will tell him and I'll give the reasoning behind it."
"That won't be necessary," the elf said stoically. "She did as she was commanded to do, He will not punish her for you giving her a gift." She nodded to the human girl and she quietly walked out of the room, holding the gown close. "I have summoned a meal for you, it will be arriving shortly. Are you in need of anything, Princess?"
She started to shake her head then paused, feeling fear clench her. "He punishes you?"
The elf's expression didn't change, except for an feathered eyebrow raising. "Only when it is deemed necessary, my lady," she gave her a slight incline of her head. And, as if she could sense it, "Your fear is unwarranted. If He said He would not harm you then He will not." With that she turned and walked out of the room, closing the large doors behind her.
"He has already," she spoke to the empty room and turned back to her journal. There hadn't been a reply to her thoughts, but she took the moment to write down the new findings before the torrent of emotions could trap her. 'One of his people called him Nefarian and pledged their wing and claw to me. Is anything what it appears to be?'
I had some issues that kept me from posting this sooner, sorry for the long wait. I'm trying to light a fire under my butt before I get too distracted by other things. But I'm going to start wrapping this up. Soon™.