AN: I WANT TO TAKE THIS TIME TO BOLD THIS TEXT. I TAKE TRIGGER WARNINGS VERY SERIOUSLY AND EVERYTHING THAT DESERVES THEM IS ALWAYS GIVEN ONE SO IF YOU DON'T READ THEM THAT IS REALLY NOT MY FAULT! THAT BEING SAID THIS DOES HAVE A LITTLE BIT ON THE EDGE OF NON-CON. I TRY AND WALK A FINE LINE BUT YEAH. Due to some intense sexual feelings I got in this chapter I've postponed the introduction to the Underworld for one more chapter. Once again, this was written ages ago and gone through several edits, none of which my beta would most likely approve of. What's new with me? I've started school full time and am living with a gorgeously sexy man on the east coast ;) Enjoy! Don't crucify me for the wait.
Queen of the Underworld
Chapter Six
Weakness
"That's all…" She stammered, wide eyed as she viewed the unimaginable. "…Mine?" She swallowed thickly, her eyes quickly trying to capture every inch of the majestic fields to commit to memory.
"This particular part of the empire? Yes." She explained naturally. "I always forget what it's like to gaze upon the glorious Elysian fields for the first time." She shook her head, perplexed by the notion.
"It's-"
"Paradise." Sadie quickly finished for her, turning around to face her queen. "I know." She said forlorn, her face ashen amidst the beauty radiating from the widow.
"Don't you think so?" Emma furrowed her eyes in confusion.
"It's paradise and home to few my queen." Sadie implied with a heavy sigh. "Some will never know of its splendor. For some, this will be as close as they get to it." She explained with a hint of sorrow and longing in her voice.
"Tartus." Emma presumed grimly, the images of the horrors of such a place unfathomable for any mind.
Sadie nodded and licked her lips before continuing, "Others are judged and doomed to neither place. Cursed with no resolution save for what could have been." She spoke solemnly, her grief palpable. "Although I suppose there are worse fates." She added to ease the bitter taste left in her mouth.
Emma's hands clenched around the duvet wrapped around her lithe and fragile body, fighting back the urge to open her mouth and provide words of comfort to the pained woman.
"No more talk of that now." She smiled softly. "We need to get you ready." She said, stomping around the room and picking things up off the floor.
Emma's eyes followed the small woman who bounded around the room like a possessed banshee.
"Well don't just sit there all day child." Sadie chided with a hand held at her hip. "Wash room is straight through there." Sadie gestured with her head to a golden archway positioned just off the right.
Emma craned her neck in the direction in which she was showed and sure enough the marbled floor covered in luxurious rugs of crimson mink and gold threaded fabric gave way to a room shielded by two sturdy wooden double doors embedded with gold embroidery that matched that of its archway. The distance was far in comparison to the distance between the armchair and the bed. Her face instantly paled at the idea of making it all the way there in any dignified sort of way.
"What are you waiting for? Do you intend to keep his lordship waiting?" She urged direly.
Emma shook her head violently in reply and braced both hands on the arm rests of the chair, and slowly began to lift herself from its clutches. Her limbs were wobbly as she stood, the duvet falling to the floor in favor of keeping a grip on the chair. Raising her head, she met Sadie with a small smile of triumph and Sadie nodded her approval while encouraging her forward.
With both her hands braced out in front of her to catch her if she should fall, she took small steps, stumbling to and fro as she went but growing confident with each and every footfall.
Standing directly in front of the entrance with her head bowed as if afraid to admire each and every small detail of the room she walked in fear of falling, she stopped in front of the medium sized double doors, her hands stilling against its golden curved handles. She fell forward into the door and it immediately unlocked with a faint click. With one hand braised against the left side and a gentle jiggle of the door knob, both doors gave way to a magnificent wash room she could have only imagined in her mind but yet here it was- a reality.
Small pebbled stones in various shades of blue, grey, white, and green graced the floors of the almost offensively large space and each bay window was hidden behind by flowing gauzy curtains of white and mint green and fastened by gold rods. Soft light peered beneath the curtains from the windows illuminating the floor in front of it.
Her eyes darted towards the floor, the pebbles showing a much larger picture then what she had previously noticed. Each pebble was meticulously placed to form a large mosaic in the center of the room of a mermaid, her wavy hair decorated with flakes of gold and copper, her tail outfitted with scales of blue, green, and white, her body naked from the waist up. The mermaid was caked with powder, her lips covered in rouge the shade of blood that were turned down into a plump pout that easily reminded her of a child who didn't get their way.
Emma didn't know if she should be offended by the crude sight or mesmerized by its remarkable beauty. It was fair to say she had never seen anything like it before in all her years but then again this place continuously defied and made her rethink everything she knew about life and the world she had come to know just to realize she didn't know it at all.
Each fixture in the bathroom down to the wash basin was bathed in solid gold and similar garnishing's. Even the towel rack was embellished in diamonds at the ends along with the rods that held the curtains. Sitting just above the basin was a large mirror defined in gold leaflets befitting her new station, and a long chaise lounge in mint green laid in the far corner with pillows of white and gold seamlessly tying together the rest of the room.
Her eyes a quested all, sparing no detail to her memorization before falling to the center of the room where a golden claw tub full of steaming bath water sat waiting for her.
Garnering the courage to continue her journey to the tub, she lifted her feet, dragging them from the hard stone floor to that of the pebbled, the foreign texture odd and unpleasant against her feet as Sadie lingered closely behind her. Upon reaching the bath, Sadie immediately stepped in front of her with a helping hand and gently assisted the bruised and battered queen into the steaming tub.
Emma moaned in appreciation as the warm water instantly started working its magic on her wounds and lowered herself down the rest of the way into the golden tub. She melted into the waters embrace, humming as it lapped at her tender bruises and stinging cuts.
"He gave me explicit instructions to allow you to relax as long as you'd like. He will come and collect you after your dressed. Just let me know if you need anything your majesty." Sadie said with a kindly smile that reminded her of her poor lonely mother. She then slipped out of the room with a silent close of the doors to resume her chores and leave her in peace and quiet.
Her mother.
She had almost forgotten.
Emma rested her head against the outside of the back of the tub, her eyes wavering beyond the pale grey walls and meeting that of the vaulted wooden ceilings above her as she pondered her mother.
Was she worried about her? Had she even notice she was missing? Did she know where she was? Was she angry? Hurt? Grief stricken? Heartbroken? Or worse?
She gripped the back of the tub, turning her cheek against the cold tub and allowing the steam to touch her skin as the heat steadily rose in the room.
Thoughts of her mother plagued her endlessly leaving her to ponder far too long and time to lapse. The water had grown cold and her fingers began to prune.
She pursed her lips, her fingertips lazily drawing shapes in the air as she viewed its ugly texture, droplets of moisture rolling off her hand in a most curious and attention seeking way.
"I beseech you my lord, she's not decent!" Sadie's insistent voice rang out clearly followed by a grunt of disapproval and a loud thump.
The bathing bride laid paralyzed with fear in the quickly chilling bath water, a gasp of shock tearing from her lips as her heart thudded wildly in her chest to the time of his heavy impatient footsteps. Bellowing rage echoed off the walls as the water in the tub turned violently and the mirror jostled against the wall like a hammer just as the doors pushed open revealing her unrelenting mate.
The wind blew the curtains and a shiver of terror washed over her at his domineering yet captivating presence. His eyes were steel blue in his haze of anger, his pupils darker than normal, and his hands were drawn into fists at his sides as he attempted to suppress his violent urges but failing miserably to do so.
Emma slumped further into the tub as if its liquid could protect her from his wraith, her eyes never departing his in fear of making matters worse.
Her cowardly retreat into the tub did just that as his lip curled down into a vicious snarl as he charged forward, the water filtering from the tub over the sides and soaking the floor around it as if moved by some invisible force but she knew better.
The leather of his boots splashed against the puddles as Emma grabbed fruitlessly at the water disappearing around her, her hiding place revealing the cold scared little girl she felt on the inside. She was as vulnerable as the previous night when he had taken her against her will.
Emma hugged her knees, shivering in the empty tub, her wet locks falling like a curtain around her face as she sniffled into her arms, her eyes red rimmed with unshed tears.
Killian leaned over the tub, his face paling at the sight of her fear of him and he grimaced before placing his arms around her and lifted her screeching form from the tub.
"I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!" She pleaded, her screams turning into a series of seemingly innocent high pitched wails. She fought helpless in his hold as her head was forced into his chest to quiet her.
He held her closely to his body, one resting beneath her knees, the other soothing the hair at the top of her head as he carried her through the double doors and back to their bedroom. Her tears accompanied by the cold bath water soaked through his shirt, the bath water dripping onto the floor as he strode, her body limp in his arms.
Emma continued to cry quietly into the linen of his shirt up until the moment she was placed gently back onto the bed. She blinked unexpectedly at him as he leaned forward to brush a kiss to her fist before placing himself on his knees by the bed beside her, his fingers lightly tracing the place where he had kissed her. The tenderness in his kiss surprised her, taking her off guard. She looked upon him with cloudy vision, her cries quieting into hiccups.
With a shocking jolt he tugged her hand towards the side of the bed, agonizingly placing his forehead against her hand and whispered, "I couldn't bear to be away from you a moment longer."
The absolute wrecked nature of his voice took her off guard and shook her to her core because for the first time since she'd been here he's showed- weakness.
She was his weakness, she noted.
She hadn't been alone with the thought for a second before he lifted his head, his eyes softening against hers. "I didn't do anything wrong." She stammered with fear for the possessive man in front of her, her eyes stinging with tears.
He opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself and caressed her arm with the back of his hand. "Of course not precious one. You can never do any wrong. You are perfect." He smiled inanely as if it were a foreign concept to him.
Unbeknownst to Emma, she returned a disgusted smile, her skin crawling at the implication of the grotesque smile meant just for her.
"You said-" She argued.
"I know what I said!" He yelled with tempered annoyance making her jump slightly. He took a few calming breaths, steering himself before continuing, "I've waited a thousand lifetimes for you Emma. I don't want to be away from you for another minute. It was torture without you." He disclosed to her longingly.
She managed a small smile on his behalf, the corners of her eyes crinkling unconvinced by his self-proclaimed words of sincerity.
Killian smiled brightly up at her, a little less unpracticed but still as horrid as the first before once again bowing his head in appreciation against her humid skin and raining down reverent kisses on every sun kissed inch of her skin.
Emma cringed as his lips molded into her skin, her body flinching against every kiss as he climbed back onto the bed for a much better angle with which to worship her.
His fingers brushed against her ribcage, his kisses advancing down her stomach. "I can't help myself when I'm around you. You're but a siren calling me to death and I'm only too keen to answer." He mouthed against her skin, his voice a haze of delirious lust.
His breath felt warm against her cold skin, the faint tickle of his lips against her drying skin making her squirm in his delicate hold as he continued to rain kisses down her body. With his hand poised at her hip, his tongue lightly stroked the dip of her stomach.
Emma's back arched at the sensation as a moan escaped her lips, the memory of his pleasure before he took her the night in the meadow making her grow wet with need as her nails desperately scraped against his scalp.
His fingers danced along her gentle feminine curves, absolutely drunk off the feel of her body in his capable hands as she gave a sharp inhale of breath, beads of sweat collecting on her brow.
"Glorious." He commented, his voice that of an intoxicated lover before sinking his face between the warmth of her thighs, absolutely mesmerized by everything from the feel of her against the roughness of his stubble to the smell of her want wafting through his nostrils.
She keened, spreading her legs for him invitingly as her breathing became heavy and erratic in anticipation of his touch.
His nose swept through the silken nest of curls of her sex, his mouth opening wide to breathe her in like the sweetest smell of ambrosia, his nose nuzzling the delicate pearl nestled at the apex of her thighs. In one fluid motion he captured her clit between his lips, suckling gently to the sound of her hitch pitched moans.
It was too much and not enough at the same time.
Emma thrashed against him, her hips rising up to meet his mouth, a harbinger of pleasure on her aching sex as he parted her swollen lips with his tongue. Her fingernails dug mercilessly into his scalp, guiding his movements against her until he was exactly where she needed him, pleading for him to continue his delicious torment of her body. Her eyes closed instinctually as his tongue began to lash out at her like a serpent on the hunt, his focus on her pleasure and hers alone.
He was deranged, his tongue unrelenting against her sodden folds, eating her like a man depraved of nourishment, like his entire existence depended on her.
Her breathing was shaky and uneven, her eyes rolled back into her head, the demand on her body reaching its precipice of pleasure as her fingers and toes began to twitch. She tried to push herself away from his mouth, but he would not be deterred from her pleasure.
Effortlessly he pushed her down into the mattress, holding her down, her eyes widening against his entranced stare, his hair sticking up in every direction imaginable as he continued to devour her until he had his fill. With his eyes still locked against hers he resumed his pursuit of her pleasure, his tongue bathing every inch of her creamy sex until her thighs clamped around his head, bucking her hips maddeningly until her high pitch scream filled the room. The sound filled him with pride. He allowed her to ride out her high against his mouth, numb with his efforts, his taste buds consumed with the taste of her pleasure.
His ears were penetrated by her lust filled sobs of ecstasy, her sex pulsing in his mouth as he greedily swallowed every last drop of her essence, drowning himself in her erotic flavor. She tasted like innocence against his lips, his tongue lazily probing for each and every drop elicited from her center until she was dry.
Once sated, he pulled away from her with a boyish grin plastered to his lips, still slick with moisture and gazed upon her sweat slicked body that was still shaking with tremors from her orgasm as she caught her breath. Bending forward with one hand cradling her chin, he captured her lips with his, the kiss still going unreturned after his efforts to win her over.
His mouth pled against hers, "love me."
She was not impressed by his charming nature, his dauntless power, his undeniable wealth, his handsome good looks, or his generosity as a lover.
What did she want?
"Tell me." He whispered desperately against her forehead, his hand tangled in the hair at the back of her head. He pulled her back gently to look her in the eye, "tell me what will make you happy."
"You…" She stammered with a quizzical look. "…You want to make me happy?" She gulped the last word as if it left a bad taste in her mouth.
"Endlessly." He firmly amended in hopes she would understand just how much he craved her happiness. "I want us," he took her hand in his, rubbing it gently with his thumb as he spoke, "to be endlessly happy."
Emma frowned at his reissued proclamation, tears gathering in her eyes at his attempt to woo her into submission and perhaps most of all- to garner her affection for him. "I want to go home." She cried softly.
A low rumble emanated from his throat like a wild animal, his eyes growing more murderous by the second. He growled dangerously, his hot breath hitting her face turning her into a sniveling mess on the bed. "You are home." He told her firmly, his voice just as menacing and threatening in its lower register.
He pulled away, Emma watching out of the corner of her eye as his shadow disappeared from her face, her shoulders twitching as she hiccupped and sniffled, her lips trembling as she watched him head toward the doors of the bedroom. Once at the door, his hand resting on the knob he turned back to his beloved, a hurt look gracing his handsome face as he said, "Sadie will be her shortly to help you finish getting ready. I suggest you don't be late," and with that he slammed the door shut behind him.
Helpless tears streamed hotly down her face, her face collapsing into the pillow to muffle her uncontrollable sobs.
Killian tore through the palace to his personal chambers and locked himself inside, his patience being stretched beyond its thin limits.
"Why won't she love me!" He bellowed, his frustration laying waste to the mirror opposite him.
Rage and fury burned inside him like an unwilling bed mate. It was inescapable, his temper irrefutable.
Killian viewed himself in the destruction of the mirror, his face hot with anger and betrayal, his shoulders risings and falling erratically with his heavy breathing.
"Why don't you love me?" He begged his own reflection.