Chapter Ninety-Nine
Remi
Rhodes is warm and velvet night, unyielding and harsh and cruel and wants me to ride the blade he carries with him everywhere like it’s my fucking God.
And maybe I will. Can I, even? Is there magic in his commands or am I just as lost in a submissive state as he looks gone in his dominance.
I try to speak, again, and my saliva drips from my lips to my throat, mixing with the blood he produced by cutting my neck.
How much of a mess I am, covered in his harshness, covered in his cruelty, our shared perversions.
I can’t stop moving my hips forward.
I’m not quite sure how long he keeps me there, arched back, staring into his eyes, my clit barely grazing his fingers, or the hilts surface.
It may have been hours, minutes, days. And it may have amused him, bored him, his gaze always remained exactly the same.
As some point, he left. Just…left.
Exited the library completely in nothing but a wisp of black and violet and darkness. Leaving me only in the company of his shadows, which held the chair in the same taunting distance and I swear, tickled and ripped at the thin scabbing forming on the cut on the spine of my back.
I may have passed out, or even fallen asleep. Either from the pain or the whispering of the cool winds, or the pleasurable waking dream of what would happen just exactly when Rhodes returned. When he deemed me worthy enough to touch and fuck and entertain.
I’m not sure when exactly this slip into oblivion happened, when I handed myself so fully over to him. Sometime between when my body fully began to cave in, my wrists began to burn from the cruel rope, and my arched toes slipped from the two remaining books he forced me to balance on.
Shadows catch my chest, just as the King of Darkness walks back in, not a flicker of emotion across his pale and calm expression.
Drool and arousal mark every inch of my breasts and legs. I’m twice as much a mess as I was when he left, when was it? Had the sun just risen or set?
“Evening.”
A day then. He had left me here for an entire day. Writhing against the rope and begging for his hilt’s attention.
But his brutality, iniquity, it holds me captive just as much as his shadows and rope.
He removes the gag and lifts a glass of water to my lips. I’m so thirsty that it chokes down my anger, not to mention that he’s basically pouring the entire thing down my throat, letting it spill over onto my chin and across my breasts.
I hold his gaze as he does it. Disregards me, cleans me–essentially does whatever the fuck he wants. Hold his gaze as he replaces the gag, too.
“Ready to start?”
To start? Is twenty-four hours of torture not enough? A full day of burning and aching?
Anger floods me, but yet, something about him. Fuck.
It’s as if Rhodes has possessed my very soul–placed a harness my deepest desires and is yanking on the filthiest version of me’s throat.
But there is no rope, and each yank of the leash is me rocking my own hips forward, towards his blade, towards his unkind command.
“Beg for it.”
I say some pathetic excuse about the gag in my mouth. I sound as much of a mess as my pussy.
Rhodes smirks. Cute.
Another involuntary yank of my hips. Of the demon in me desperate for his touch, his approval.
When did I become a woman like this? When did I become such a–
“Whore?” The smirk on the most beautiful male’s face has set like the sun on the ink-black horizon.
Rhodes pushes his boot into the chair, causing it to slightly tip forward and graze my clit. I nearly throw myself off the remaining two books, just for more release, more touch.
“You’re so far from that Remi,” he picks up the chair and settles it on the roof of his boot, so it has enough height to meet me, so I have enough height to ride it. “Whores actually perform the degrading acts.”
Half an inch of the thick, cool metal hilt sinks into my cunt, and my whole body goes slack. My walls widen at the size of it, the abusive shape of it, hard and rigged, and nothing gentle in comparison to what I imagine would be the smoothness of Rhode’s cock–
The prettier of the twin brothers let’s out a low and calculated breath. He’s laughing at me, at my thoughts, as if to say.
“Do you really think you’re going to get something as gentle as my cock?”
A whimper escapes my lips at the casualness, the calmness, in his voice. He can’t be serious about all this viciousness, he’s bound to quickly break.
Rhodes doesn’t answer with a smile, but rather by lifting his foot. The chair and the hilt lift, and all I can do against the oncoming assault is sag my hips further into his haunted weapon.
“D-daddy…”
Even through the gag, Rhodes recognizes the word I attempted to say. His eyes suddenly flash with darkness, and he lifts his knee so high at least three quarters of the hilt slam into me.
I’m dizzy when he speaks, seeing stars among the red planet, when he lifts my chin and says.
“You don’t call me that.”
There’s enough growl, enough bite, that even the thought of calling him that leaves my mind entirely.
“You’re not playing little girl with me, I’m not your fucking daddy.” Rhodes reaches down my thigh and grabs one of my legs, and I yelp out as he picks it up and stretches it high to the ceiling. “You’re playing whore with me, as an adult, and whores know how to take their punishments without breaking.”
“Y-yes, Master.”
“What was that?”
Another muffled, horribly pronounced sign of submission. Then rage, even more rage, inside my cruel dom’s violet star gaze.
The blade, the weapon, the chair, all, instantly gone. Then something smooth as silk, even larger than the hilt, is sliding into my wet and puffy cunt.
“Yes. Yes.”
Rhodes cock slams into me, widening me even further. He’s bigger than Xaden, has always been the biggest, and he doesn’t grant me the mercy of taking his time to let me fit him all.
“My perfect, broken little rag doll.”
My body is on fire. I can’t tell the pain from pleasure.
Rhodes uses his knife to slice and x into my left nipple, then sucks at it, hard. Not a drop of my blood spills onto his face, and he drinks heavily.
“It’s mine, too.”
My blood. My blood is his.
Another X is made, another set of cruel licks.
“You’re all of theirs but really fucking mine, Rem.”
I can’t see left or down, couldn’t tell you my up and right. There is only Rhodes, his sweet, cruel mercy, and the orgasm I’ve wanted for one night and two days.
“You’re mine baby girl, aren’t you?”
Warm hot liquid spurts inside me. My hands pull at the rope, at the restraint. I’m not going to have enough time to cum, I’m not going to get to–.
“No, sweetheart. Not yet.”
Denial and anger fuel me in equal rage. I want to bite at him, hurl myself at him. The asshole thinks he can do whatever he wants to me, that I’ll just obey.
As if answering my complaints, Rhodes throws a second pitcher of water over me.
“What the fuck?”
A harsh spank is administered, enough to leave an imprint on my hand. But the makeshift gag is left off.
“You want to cum?”
I nod, slowly, eagerly.
Rhodes looks me over with a fresh cruelty. As if torturing me for the last day, day and a half by the setting sun, was simply nothing to him.
He uses his blade to clean his nails.
“I’ll give you two options.”
I raise my brow. This is a test. Something even worse.
“The first option: All three of my brothers are in this castle in various places. I’ll give you ten minutes to find one of them, in this exact state, with your hands behind your back, and a gag in your mouth, and try to get one of them to touch you.”
“Why would you offer that up?”
“Because I’m bored. And it will entertain me.”
“And the second option?”
Rhodes looks up from his nails, still, no emotion. Just a torture master, playing with his pet.
“The second option is I leave you here exactly as you are and let the whole court witness you naked for the day.”
How can Keiran let him do this to me? Does Keiran even know he’s doing this to me?
“Keiran has no reign over what I do to you. We all have an agreement that we have equal power over what we command you to do and say. And then there’s the option, of course, to end the game entirely. Whenever you want.”
I take a deep breath. Not one part of me wants to stop, not even at the threat of his cruelty.
“I agree to your offer,” I finally say. “But on one condition.”
Brown brows raise. Rhodes must often play these games, but I'm his favorite prey.
"If you catch me, and I don't orgasm, I don't want to be kept in the library, there are too many people."
"Where then?"
"Keiran's study."
Rhodes shakes his head, every inch the cruel torture master. "And why on earth would you want that?"
I tilt my head a little bit higher. I've withstood his punishment for a day, I can do it for ten more. "So I can torture you all back."