Chapter 122 You've earned it
My head broke above the water surface.
But just as I drew in my first breath, a violent impact struck me in the back, the force of it blasting me out of the water.
I screamed as my body went flying in the air and crashed against a tree trunk. Stars danced before my eyes, and then, pain exploded like fireworks in my body.
I coughed, spitting out clumps of grass as I pushed away from the weeping willow. Mordaine emerged from the water then, an underworld god, white shirt sticking to his skin and waist-length hair sleeked back.
My eyes itched as I watched him wade to the edge of the lake, my chest aching with hurt I could not verbalize.
“Oh, don’t give me that look.” He hissed in irritation. “If you were meant to break you would have broken centuries ago.”
I stumbled to my feet, frowning at him for the first time. “What?”
“Good job back there, by the way.” He swung out of the lake, rising to his full height.
Then he glanced back at the frothy bubbles on the lake’s surface. “Impressive. You have probably learned to always be on your guard now. I cannot tell you how disappointed I was that you missed hearing me creep up on you.” He paused, his brows furrowed at me. “Why would you make the mistake of turning your back on your enemy? I could have done much worse to you than blasting you out of that water just now.”
My jaw hung as I stared at him. And then my spine stiffened, irritation making my skin prickle. And without hesitation, I did something I had never done, would never have even dreamed of doing an hour ago.
I turned my back on him and started to walk away.
A gust of wind embraced me suddenly, and all around me leaves floated up into the air. I glanced sideways to find him walking beside me. He had teleported.
“I had wrongly assumed you did not have an angry bone in your body.” His eyes wandered down my very naked skin, as drops of water flew off his clothes with every step he took.
I faced forward again, walking faster.
“Are you ignoring me?” There was a note of amusement in his voice.
“What do you want to hear from me, Mordiane?” I halted, and he missed a step before standing straight again.
Our eyes locked, and neither of us looked away. My heart beat widely from embarrassment, irritation, my intense awareness that he was fully dressed while I stood here stark naked.
“Did you just call me Mordaine?”
“You said to.”
“Why not Daine? Everyone abbreviates my name.”
I shrugged, my irritation mounting. “I prefer how it sounds in full.” I was spinning around, geared to sprint into the house and find a dress when the deep bass froze me in my tracks.
“Don’t attempt to walk away from me again.”
I whipped around, incensed. “You really are a godforsaken bully.” I slapped my hand over my mouth immediately, startled at the sudden outburst.
Where did that come from? How did that slip? My knees started to knock, watching his eyes narrow in incredulity till they turned to slits.
And then his stride swallowed the distance between us, face neutral again, eyes unreadable as they traced the outline of my face, my neck, my chest.
The man looked at me like I was an art piece at a local bazaar, a smug art curator giving his bored appraisal of the recent acquisition. Then his eyes met mine.
“So I am.” The bass drawled, “What are you going to do about that, sweet Lys?” The latter words from his lips burned like acid. “Bullies get what's coming for them, ego death, humbled. Who is going to do that though, you? Will you put me in my place, doll?”
The first drop of tear streamed down my cheek then, a single, stubborn tear that broke free despite my restraint.
And as usual, the dragon wiped it clean with his thumb and brought it to his lips. “When you become strong enough to beat this bully, let's revisit this topic. For now, focus on being a tougher creature, little wife.”
“Yes sir.”
“Better. That’s the attitude I like to see.” He turned away, crossing his hands behind his back as he started to move away. “Come, I have this wicked trick I have been meaning to show you.”
I stared at his back with the rage only Hale had ever been able to inspire in me. I owed Finn an apology, Mordaine deserved every single angry word he threw at him.
Then I whimpered at the realization of what was about to happen. More sensual torture, more orgasm denial, more begging and weeping for his cock.
I could run away, sneak back to Mom and Dad's mansion or Clove coven or even Arthur's penthouse. Hide there till whenever Hale returns from his trip.
But my legs were already moving in his direction, even as my ego bled, and my eyes pricked with frustrated tears.
I went into the mansion with a determination to hate whatever new freaky sex he planned to show me. But I failed.
He burned out every bit of coldness and impassivity in me as he oiled my body up, kissed me sweetly till I was moaning, and cuddled my face. Then he proceeded to show me how a heated cup, a literal cup, could be a tool of pleasure or weapon of torture depending on how sweet I was for him.
His wicked trick drove me nearly insane, moaning and begging for his dick. It left bright red marks all over my back and ass and breasts that would take days to fade.
But still, the session ended with me holding back an orgasm, my abdomen sore. He scrubbed my body down in the shower, fed me and cuddled me to sleep.
The next day followed a similar pattern: more lessons on controlling whatever I was, more bullying, more wicked tricks, more possessive, selfish use of my mouth, my hands, breasts and even feet for his own pleasure.
He put his dick literally anywhere but my vagina or even, night take me, my asshole.
So when his lips woke me up the morning of our flight to South Korea, my tears were at the ready. They came in torrents even though I cried myself to sleep last night.
I wasn't in pain, far from it. I had experienced pleasure I never knew existed in the past few days, sensual stimulation from heat, water, air, electricity, things I would never have thought possible.
But I wanted to be fucked. Roughly.
“Little wife,” he murmured against my lips now, kissing, sucking. “No tears, my pet. You’ve earned it, you’ve earned my cock to use it as many times as you want.”
He rolled on top of me and rocked his pelvis against mine.
I let out a tortured sigh, still weeping, sniffing, even as my legs spread beneath him. My wetness had become a constant at this point, slick and dripping between my thighs all day long.
“You're breaking my heart,” He moved his lips from mine to my cheek, kissing away my tears. “You've been a good girl. So good.”
My breath caught to the feeling of his palm running down my abs, traveling slowly to that single spot that had craved him for days.
“You pleased me, little wife. You're tougher than you look. So much tougher.” His other hand caressed my hair as he spoke, brushing it back away from my forehead.
Then he sank his fingers in and started to massage my scalp in that special way that left me weightless, boneless, and floating. That made my lips part in a moan as his hot lips consumed mine.
“Hale would be so proud of you when I tell him all this. Jealous too, so freaking jealous.”
My nipples began to tingle immediately. And when his fingers moved down my pubis mons, stroking, petting, my back left the bed.
But right after, my body froze.
What if this was a trick?
He stroked me over the past few days as well, even sucked my clit once, but never more than a few minutes before leaving me to burn in lust again.
He pulled away from me and sat on his heels. “This is not a trick, my pet. What do you want? I will let you have anything.”