Possess Me Ch. 14bytitania123©
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The broad, leather-clad man, whose strength was garnered from years of toil and sweat, stood in all quiet confidence before the refined, expensive desk of Malik Blackwood. His weight was shifted to his right leg, and his hands hung relaxed upon the top edges of his doublet. He looked the stone man in the eyes, never wavering in his cool demeanor. For some moments, his words hung tentatively in the air, waiting to be received by the master.
However, Blackwood only sat back in his chair, fixing his cold eyes on the man he still was contemplating dismissing for his continued interference with Brynna and his general lack of submission. Very few men in the world met Blackwood gaze for gaze, and it did nothing to appease him that one of them was in his employ.
Eventually, he leaned forward to pull a ledger from a drawer in his fine desk and opened it to write figures and sums in one of its columns. Wordlessly, he turned to another drawer and pulled out a box. Upon opening it, he looked up at Brom with a displeased expression, before reaching in and pulling out a little leather satchel. He strewed the contents out to clink loudly, but dully on his desk top.
Malik quickly counted out the coins to the amount Brom had requested from his wages. He had such an infrequent requirement to draw upon his wage that Blackwood held a considerable amount of what was due him. Knowing there would be items to purchase once he reached the village, Brom decided it was time he drew upon his saved income.
Malik handed him the amount, which Brom took and placed in his own coin purse, before tying it off on his belt. For a moment, the men's business was finished, but neither made move to detach themselves. Rather, there were words still waiting to be spoken, contentions to be named and answered for. But neither opened his mouth to speak and so Brom gave a quick, servile nod before turning and striding out the door.
Malik, however did not so quickly disengage his mind from their interactions, even more, from their relationship and his satisfaction, or lack thereof, with it. In time, however, he slowly became more mollified in the knowledge that Brynna was his, she chose him, to stay and belong to him, and he felt little need to be threatened by Brom's attentions and aid to her.
He turned back to his ledgers, planning for the year to come. It was quite an unsatisfying task as he looked over his many numbers, his numerous holdings, his large yields, and, for a moment, Malik was befuddled and directionless in what to conquer next.
As was a constant pattern of his mind, he blinked away the weariness, and in the dark of his closed eyes he thought of her. This time he thought back to that morning when he had removed the covers from their bodies, kicking them down past his feet to reveal his beautiful creature. She was still asleep on her stomach, her face turned toward where his body had lay. Her thick hair was swept to the far side, though several strands covered portions of her relaxed face. Her arms were tucked into her sides, her fists nestled under her chin.
Malik got out of bed to put more wood on the fire, stoking the embers back to flame. Returning, he closed the bed curtains back, trapping in their collective heat. Slowly, though the sun still had yet to breach the morning sky, the room began to glow in the growing light of the fire.
Her smooth, pale skin began to warm and became a longing in him he quickly acted to fill. He reached out a loving, yearning hand to stroke across the naked flesh of the backs of her legs and thighs. Her skin was more gloriously rich and smooth than even his finest silks. It would be a punishment to dress her in anything, and so he smirked at the idea of commanding she wear nothing.
He traced curve after heavenly line from the bones of her ankles up and up. In an out he made love to her curves until he reached the swell of her bottom. At first, his fingers grazed lightly, just skating, but eventually his ache grew deeper and his touch became bolder. His fingers began to dig ever so into the firm globes, imprinting her body with his. The fullness of her ass in his hand made his mouth water as he suddenly had the urge to bite it and lick and suck the succulent flesh. But he was not quite ready to devour her.
His hand, though somewhat reluctant, moved at last from the fullness of her bottom up and around her narrow waist, dipping down in the lines of her strong, yet feminine back. When his hand at last reached the warmth of her hair, his fingers ducked under the blanket her brown tresses created. His fingers slowly wound through the silk, up around her shoulder blades, her neck, bent as it was, and at last her scalp. He massaged there until at last she began to stir. As his hand slowly and methodically wound its way back down her trunk, Brynna began to move into his touch.
When he knew she was awake, he leaned down on one elbow to smile at her face, while keeping his exploratory hand moving. She returned a peaceful smile of her own, her eyes heavy-lidded from a brain still awaking and a body falling under the spell of his caressing hands.
Malik lay farther down on the bed so his head lay on his arm. His body was angled towards hers, the heat of her flesh mingling with the heat of his. Holding her deep brown eyes, his wandering hand crept lower and lower still. He watched for the hitching arousal as it sparked slowly to life in those brown eyes.
The fingers of his right hand found the flesh of her bottom once more and began to circle in concentric circles, growing smaller and smaller at each pass. Brynna did not flinch from his gaze or his touch, but bit her bottom lip as she no doubt attempted to stifle her moans and whimpers. As his fingers passed over her crack, her eyes fluttered nervously at being touched there.
But Malik was not ready to push for such a frightening pleasure at the moment. Instead, he gripped one cheek in his hand, the side of it pushing into the long separation of her right and left. His fingers, entrenched as they were, could feel the incredible heat her aroused body produced, as well as its welcoming slickness.
As if knowing that holding her gaze increased the flutter and desperation of her body more than his touch alone, Malik continued to stare into her pleading eyes as his finger slowly penetrated her outer lips and then the eager channel inside. He could not muster a cocky grin when he heard her whimper then, but he closed his eyes as her tight sheath squeezed his one finger.
Brynna clutched at the sheets of the bed in her hands that were still fisted near her face. Reflexively, her fingers opened and contracted with the slow rhythm his own finger established.
He worked it in and out slowly, feeling every ridge swollen with her desire. Her walls longingly clutched his loving digit, eager to dance and unite. Eventually, he added a second, eliciting another whimper as she curved her bottom out so he had even easier access to her cunt. He smiled at her openness, her unabashed desire for him, her complete surrender to his mastery of her.
In the fullness of his time, after patience and careful stroking, he felt her tight walls begin to quiver and then spasm around his fingers. Her body jerked and she no longer thrust her bottom out but pulled her pelvis in as her stomach quaked and shuddered. Brynna turned her face into the bed and screamed her release as Malik continued to work her orgasm through her deliriously stressed body. Though his job was done, he was reluctant to pull his fingers from the center of her femininity, unhappy to lose that level of intimacy.
Sitting at his desk, Malik drew in an unsteady breath as he recalled the sweeping desire to be buried home in her, to find his release. He had, instead, pulled her into his side, kissing the damp wisps of hair along the edge of her face, holding her until she fell asleep once more.
Malik sighed as he looked down at the papers across his desk. Nothing inspired him, nothing drew his interest or his desire. For the time, he was content to do nothing with his life but hold a beautiful woman, and find his whole purpose in being her master and lover.
He placed the heels of his palms over his eyes and rubbed as he yawned. He had little sleep through the night as he had kept Brynna awake with their amorous activities and had risen early when he was asked to speak with Brom.
He turned to look out his window, down to the wall of his keep, out across the bailey to the large stables. In many, unstated ways, he liked Brom. The man was obviously strong, both of body and mind, and was unaffected by Malik's power, which was a rare feat for a nobleman, let alone a marshal and huntsman. He had an easy grace that caused most, if not all, to like him genuinely. And he was talented in what he put his hand to.
But Malik could not erase the discomfort of having a servant lack fear to cower, to obey without question. At one point, he was all but determined to dismiss him when Brynna was found and returned. But, somewhere along the journey back home, his anger at Brom's words dissipated. Somewhere between finding her alive, and arriving at the conclusion that he himself had acted unforgivably towards her, Malik lost the determinedness to cut down a man that had been her worthy and loyal friend.
Malik was slightly puzzled at Brom's request to take a week's absence and to withdraw several crowns of his saved income. The man had only asked for it once, and that was to buy his horse. Beyond his food and horse, the man seemed self-sufficient with procuring and making anything he required. He even crafted his own clothing, which to Malik's mind was always an admirable skill as he skinned and treated the leather and then crafted clever uses for it.
Though Brom remained a mystery in many ways to Malik, he was certain of his goodness and his willingness to serve him in what he required. Pulling his mind from his servant, Malik decided it was time to ensure Brynna was awake and ready for the first meal of the day. He greeted Stilwell on the way up to his chambers and offered a chance for hunting, to which the man eagerly accepted. Malik knew he was an active sort of fellow and most likely dulled with little to do. He decided to attempt to find more engaging activities for the two of them while the Goodchimes remained his guests.
His thoughts quickly turned to Brynna as he pushed the door to his rooms open. His smile faded a little when he saw his bed was empty. Determining she was not in his bathing room, he decided she must have left to her own rooms to dress, which made perfect sense considering that was where her clothes were stored. But upon inspection of her chamber, he found it just as empty as his own.
Perhaps she is already downstairs. Hmm, I wish to know when she is up for the day. New rule: she is to find me after she dresses, then I shall always know where she is and what she plans to do.
He smiled at his gracious plan. He would not tell her what to do, but give her the option, in which she would relay to him. He smirked and gave a slight swagger of his head as he imagined how he would command her to greet him every morning upon entering his study.
But his fantasy died a little when he reached the dining room and Brynna was the only one missing of the foursome. He rang for Eleanor and asked if she knew of her mistress' whereabouts, to which she denied any such knowledge. She left after he told her to find her and come to breakfast as they were all of them waiting on her.
Malik relayed to Stilwell Brom's unexpected leave-of-absence and the resulting need for them to secure game for their coming meals. They discussed the various types of game most frequently seen in his local woods and Stilwell's preferences in bows. Eleanor returned, and Malik immediately narrowed his eyes. The two needed no words to exchange their thoughts.
"Excuse me," Malik said to the Goodchimes as he stood and left the room. Eleanor turned to follow. "Speak," he said in a voice growing in anger.
"I cannot find her, master. She is not in the castle. No one has seen her this morning."
"This is unacceptable! She was! She was here just this morning. Where could she have gone?"
"Outside, my lord?" Eleanor offered.
Malik sighed. He had sent Eleanor to find her, at which point his temper was contained, though perhaps slightly annoyed that she was not where she was supposed to be. But now, her seeming disappearance required his personal attention, for when she was found...
"Very well, see the Goodchimes are served. Give them a reasonable explanation as to our whereabouts. I will find her," he said in a terse voice. He stormed off to don his cloak before heading out. Though it was unlikely she would have left the castle, he was beginning to become anxious as to where exactly she could have been.
He searched his mind for any clues, but nothing that morning had been out of the ordinary, except, of course, Brom asking for money-Malik stopped midstride as his scowl darkened while his mind began piecing together bits of information he turned into possibility.
Though he held faith that she cared for him, to which her words and actions attested, Malik could not outright put the fearful speculation out of his mind that she had escaped once more. He knew the fear for her safety and a life filled with pain. He had faced them before. And having once been prepared to make a journey to hell and back to retrieve her, he was unwilling to lose her again.
His pace sped as he marched to the stables in search of the woman. He quickly stormed in the shelter of the warm building and stopped to scan quickly about. He immediately noted Brom's horse was missing, as it should have been. But then he saw the stall door of the mare he had given to Brynna stood open, the pen empty. He found her riding tack gone as well. His heart thundered in denial as he quickly scanned the stable for any proof his fears were not true.
Malik's hand clutched the thick support beam in the middle of the giant room as he gasped for breath. His stomach felt sickly and his head was light and dizzy. She had left him again!
How could she? Why would she? I've given her everything she asked. I would have-.
But his mind suddenly shut off the rampant panic leaving him calm and cold. He stood up, his face set hard, and he strode unwaveringly to Aeris' pen. He quickly saddled his horse and flew from the keep. He would charge them and overtake them. Though he knew not what he would do with her, he would begin by running Brom through.
Though he seethed inside, his eyes were on the pair of tracks laid heavy in the mud of the road. He did not travel far, however, before he saw the smaller of the tracks turn off the road alone and head in a different direction. Though he was not as skilled a tracker as Brom, he knew the smaller tracks belonged to her horse. For a moment, he cared not about heaping retribution upon Brom, and cut off the road as well, following the trail she left behind.
Despite his anger, he quickly realized the path she took headed in the same direction as the ride he had led her on to the steep canyon where the frozen lake lay hidden in the winter months. His temper began to ease as he admitted to himself he truly did not know what she was doing. As he hoped, when he crested the top of the mild cliff, he saw her horse. Guiding Aeris to descend into the little valley, he scanned until he saw her sitting on a large rock on the shore. It leaned out over the water, providing an unobscured, picturesque view of the little valley and lake.
She must have been weighed by her thoughts for she did not seem to acknowledge his approach. For a moment, the effects of the rushing relief were the same as those caused by the initial fear. He felt light headed and his heart thundered largely. He had the intense need to bury his face in her hair, to kiss her and hold her tightly, assuring his body, as well as his mind that she was still there and had not left.
But with all things, Malik Blackwood quickly recovered from his vulnerable need and distilled his emotions into those he was more comfortable dealing with. He cleared his throat, which effectively gained her attention.
She turned to him, and despite the beauty and charm of her smile, he allowed no happy emotion to shine back at her. Her face softened and she tilted her head in a quizzical manner, curious as to his dark mood.
"My lord?" she asked out of habit.
Quickly, he devised a plan to not only teach her a lesson, but to assuage his desperate, lustful need. "Tell me, Brynna, who gave you permission to leave the keep, alone and unattended?"
She frowned at that. "No one," she answered, nonetheless.
"What protection did you bring? I see no bow, no quiver. Do you conceal knives, and have you such an excellent aim that you can fell several predators to escape harm?"
"Predators?" she asked confused. She stood up to climb down from the large rock.
"Yes, predators. These woods are filled with wolves, even bears are found here. Too many a person has walked into the black of the forest, only to never return. And who did you tell you were leaving?"
"Well, no one," she said, her face frowning, though not quite from anger.
"No one? So you left the castle, unattended, without permission, without protection, and without informing anyone of your whereabouts," he said as he counted on his fingers the charges against her.
"Please, Malik," she said, a little amused at his dramatic retelling of a simple morning's ride. "You speak as though-"
"You could have been killed? Injured? Lost? Runaway?" he had slid from his horse to corner her against the large boulder.
She looked up into his face and blinked as his voice lowered with the last possibility. And there, behind the hardness of his eyes she saw the more lamentable emotion, fear.
He was afraid that she had left him.
But his intensity was not to be denied, not even when she knew its source. She felt that familiar stirring, as though he were her fearful predator. "M-Malik?" she questioned, uncertain about his exact mood.
"What happened to 'my lord?'" he asked in a low, dangerous voice.
Brynna was unable to quickly decide if his voice held mockery or ire and so she immediately changed her address. "My lord." For a moment it felt as though Malik would kiss her, lean down and take her lips with his and crush her to him, but he blinked and stood straight. The moment and the feeling passed and Brynna was left with a continued feeling of confusion.
Malik took a step back, his scowl in place. "Now, I will not punish you. You have made the argument before that you find it unfair that I do so when I did not give a rule explicitly. Therefore, I will be gracious and allow you mercy."
Brynna frowned slightly at his near patronizing tone, but bit her tongue, not wishing for an argument that morning. After all, he said he would not punish her, so it would seem she were only petulantly quibbling. She, therefore, managed to smile as though thankful and returned, "Thank you, my lord."
Malik's eyes narrowed. "But that does not mean you do not have to learn from your mistake."