Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 38865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38865 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
As his punishment continues, becoming a hail of cruelty rained down by a leathery palm on my upturned cheeks, I can only give silent thanks that he’s chosen a relatively padded part of my body to begin to vent his ire. For the moment I am able to keep my composure, but I know eventually pain will overwhelm any ability to keep my responses private, and my body is already betraying me. My skin will be flushing and will eventually swell and then bruise. There are other parts of my anatomy also responding to the intensity of this treatment and the intimacy of it. He’ll see that. He’ll know…
“I can scent you,” he says. “Human arousal is so very intense, and can arrive at any time, to almost any stimulation; you are creatures designed to mate as often as possible with the most dominant male. You can’t help it. It’s your instinct, and you would do well to follow it. We should all follow our instincts, whether they be for lustful submission to the one who breaks our will, or that of revenge against the human who brought shame upon us.”
And there it is. I shamed him, now he must shame me. He does not want to hurt me. He does not want to kill me. He wants to make an example of me to everyone, but most of all, to myself.
“It must have been a long time since you were mated. Do you allow any of these human males to mate you?” His palm is now stretched across my reddened flesh, holding me firmly, keeping me in place.
“I have.”
“Yes, but not recently. There is no male who will come to your rescue. There is no soul who will come for you,” he growls. The way he is speaking, I feel as though he has been doing his homework. I wonder how long Dinavri spies have been watching me, and who they paid off to get this level of access. There were no signs of struggle down at the docks. That suggests collusion from somewhere. I have been betrayed.
A swift slap breaks me out of my thoughts.
“Your silence irritates,” he notes, more to himself than to me. “You are trying to stay hidden, though I can assure you that you have been exposed in every way that matters.”
His scaled hand descends between my thighs and turns so his powerful fingers are able to cup the bare, furred flesh of my sex. I knew he would ravage me. He could not resist the urge, and it plays far too well into the theme of humiliation he has decided to enact.
“I don’t matter,” I murmur.
“Excuse me?”
“Not this much,” I say. “You shouldn’t be here. I mean nothing.”
“It is not up to you to determine your worth,” he says dismissively, removing his fingers long enough to have them return in a light slap that goes to the very core of me. I try not to react, but I am only human and the stimulation and excitement is having a predictable biological effect on me. A hot, wet, slick effect that coats his fingers and makes it all the easier for him to tease me with slaps and strokes, sometimes sharp and punishing, sometimes soft and tender. He spreads my legs and holds me there over his knee, exposed and struggling to maintain composure.
“You have a tight little opening,” he notes after pressing the tips of two of his hardened fingers against the entrance of my body. My wetness is not only betraying me, it is giving him access to parts of my physique and psyche he would not otherwise be able to reach.
He turns them this way and then that, slowly screwing his digits into my tight interior. He is right. It has been a long time since I was with a man. Over a year. Since then, nobody has touched me. No flesh belonging to another has joined with mine and pushed up inside me, made my cunt stretch in that submissive way it must.
I bite back a moan, but he hears it anyway. His amusement is palpable, a dark chuckle of triumph. This is what he wants. If I break myself on him, if I give into pleasure, then he wins. But fighting him is not an option, and fighting my own instincts is impossible.
Sithren keeps stroking his fingers inside me and begins to speak, saying terrible, awful, hot things.
“We know these will soon be my cock, don’t we? You’ll part these soft lips for me and welcome me into that hot, human interior. I am much larger than a human male, but you will not mind. It will be your pleasure to stretch for me, won’t it?”
I try to hide my response, but there is so much heat flashing through me, and now he can feel what my pussy is doing. The clenching of my inner walls is not a tell I can control. I cannot believe how adept he is at drawing out truths I do not want to share and making me tell secrets I would die in order not to reveal.