Obsession Returned

"You will feel better after your bath," he said. Finally, he released her, and began unbuttoning his vest. Louise flew to the door, but it was locked as well. "Come, my love."

Louise stayed by the door, watching him undress. Slowly, the object of her nightmares--her guilty fantasies--revealed itself. His chest was still sculpted and magnificent. He must have been nearly forty, but he didn't look it at all. His body was lean and taught, no sign of weakness apparent. Even his hair was growing out in pure brown now that his charade with the black dye was over. The muscles in his back flexed beautifully, drawing her gaze.

"Have you had your fill, my dear? I remember how much you love looking at me, but I want to return the favor."

He turned, grinning at her. She was caught in the act. He strode over to her, shirtless, pants thankfully still buttoned and belted.

"Come, lovely girl. Let me help you."

Louise have an ineffectual wiggle or two before he overpowered her, pulling her into the center of the steaming bathroom and fingering the lace of her dress.

"I will never let anyone hurt you ever again, my love. You belong to me, and I take care of my belongings."

He started lifting her nightdress up over her underwear. She grabbed onto his wrist, trying to slow him down, but he was staring at her, and she couldn't help but tremble at his hungry gaze.

"Please," she whispered, one last desperate attempt to stop him. "I just want to go home. My father must be terrified."

He paused, much to her surprise, a hint of sympathy in his gaze. "I do not want to separate you from your life, my love. Once you are settled here, I will bring your father to us. I want him to bear witness at our wedding."

Her breath vanished as if he had punched her in the gut. "Wedding?" She asked in galderan, unsure if she had misunderstood him.

He growled out a little laugh, pulling her nightshirt up further. "Of course, my love. I will bind myself to you like I have dreamed these past six years. My lovely galderan rose."

He silenced any protest by lifting her shirt up and over her head, revealing her breasts to him. He locked onto them with hungry eyes, but refrained from touching them.

"Not just yet," he said, leading her to the edge of the tub. "Remove your underwear."

"Gerhard," she said, his name feeling foreign on her tongue. "This is madness."

"No, this is fate. Now, remove them, or I will, and I will not be gentle."

She could hear the threat, and she did not want him to follow through. With trembling hands, she removed her underwear, her final piece of protection. She couldn't quite say why it was so difficult. She had done so a thousand times for him.

His hand landed on her belly, smoothing down to the dark hair above her womanhood, but he stopped short of touching. Instead, he dipped down and lifted her up into his arms. Before lowering her into the tub, he kissed her, deeper this time, his tongue slipping in between her lips. Louise didn't fight it, but she tried her best not to engage.

He was smiling as they parted, lowering her into the tub. "We are in Moorsfield, though I will not be specific. If you tried running in any direction, I would be worried about your chances of survival. This manor may be small, but I paid well for the seclusion."

He retrieved a porcelain pitcher from the little cabinet beside the bathtub and filled it, slowly pouring the warm water over her head. He lifted her chin with a gentle finger to make her look at him as he washed her. He was smiling, and it was such an innocent joy that lit up his face, Louise couldn't help but stay silent in the hope that it wouldn't shift to his more deranged grin.

He washed her gently with unscented soap. It was too bland for her taste, but then it was his taste that mattered. Louise felt like a flexible gray rock as he did what he pleased with her, lifting her arm, massaging her scalp. He somehow managed not to molest her, though by the way he stared when the washcloth passed over her breasts and womanhood, he had only one thing on her mind.

"I have prepared everything with you in mind, my love," he said as he towled her off after the bath. The linen was soft and supple as it ran across her skin. "I was so taken by your musical genius, I prepared an entire music room for you. There is a piano, and historical books. You will love it."

A deep blue silk robe hung from a hanger on the door, whorls of bronze and green decorations catching her eye. As he lifted it for her, she could see the expense that went into it, and despite its apparently light material, it felt warm and comforting. He wrapped it around her and tied it at the waist, kissing her neck gently as he did.

"I have had a study and lounge set aside for your use," he continued, leading her back down the hall to the room she had woken up in. "There are a few horses in the stables that you can choose from.You will always be accompanied when riding, usually by myself."

She rolled her eyes, but then she focused on the door as he opened it. From the outside, it didn't require the key at all. He had her at his easy disposal.

Inside, the morning table was set with a spread of breakfast, eutor in composition. They enjoyed eggs, bread, sausages, yogurt and fresh fruit. It was similar to what she might have on a special occasion at home. Only the roasted vegetables were missing. As it was, she usually ate oats in the morning, and on that particular day, she wasn't very hungry to begin with.

He sat her down at the table, taking the seat beside her. "The servants are all my own, all eutor like myself."

"And they hold no moral qualms with you kidnapping a woman?" she asked.

"No, my dear. I pay too well for that. Not to mention they are all very grateful to me for smuggling them out of the ruins of Eutorland. Now, do I have to remind you to speak in a more refined manner, or shall I simply tie you up now?"

"And where does all this endless money come from?" she asked, genuinely curious, though she said it with a petulant tone.

He cocked his head, a charming grin spreading on his face. "I had some secrets of my own. It is not every thirty-two year old who is given a full command."

"No wonder you failed," she scoffed.

He hummed, a low sound that sent shivers down her spine. It was something she was very familiar with, a warning, like a dog's growl. She was treading in dangerous territory. "A foolish war has no victors, my love," he said, still smiling, though she could see the danger in his eyes. "Do not mistake an untenable position as a failure on my part. We did occupy the region for two and a half years after all."

It was true, she knew, and despite how much his men had hated her, that had never extended to him as a leader. He had seemed very well respected as a commander and fighter. He had made her attend his sharpshooting practice one day, so she knew first-hand how capable he was.

"What secret?" she asked, redirecting the conversation away from his anger.

"I will save it for another day," he said with an infuriating smile. "Now, eat. I remember your penchant for starving yourself in anger, and I enjoy your figure as it is now."

"It was misery, not anger," said Louise, but still she took a piece of bread from the basket, and he served her her eggs and sausages.

They ate in what she perceived to be an uncomfortable silence, though every time she looked up from her plate, he was staring at her with a smile. The food, despite the eutor tendency to overcook everything, was quite good, and as soon as she had something settled in her stomach, hunger came upon her like a beast. She was starting to believe it had been a full day since she had last eaten.

"Once we've finished, I shall give you a tour of the house. We shall have to wait to roam the grounds, as you will need to be fitted for clothes. My seamstress will be here this afternoon to take your measurements."

She scowled, feeling her brow furrowing. "Am I to go about in nothing but this robe in front of other people?"

"I've told the servants to be scarce," he said with a sly smile. "We will be quite alone."

She wasn't looking forward to it, but she had little choice as he took her arm and led her back to the door. Again he retrieved the silver key from around his neck. Louise watched him unlock the door, wondering just how she was going to take it from him.

"Remember all those times you tried to escape, my love," he said.

Louise did remember. None of them had been remotely successful, and all of them had resulted in his gentle form of punishment. Her mind had been rocked by them.

She hung on his arm as he led her down the hall again, further than the bathroom this time and then down a set of spiraling stairs to the entrance hall. The ornate ibnan carpets gave way to parquet marble flooring, and a large, splendid double door made of dark wood. There were more paintings hung on the walls here, hunting scenes and teuric mythological figures.

"It's wonderful, is it not? I enjoy the light and especially the way you look in the sun."

Louise tried not to roll her eyes at his romanticisms. He had always tried to pay her compliments, but they had always felt more like mockery to her.

"It's very beautiful," she mumbled, trying to be amenable since she was hopelessly trapped for the moment.

Gerhard beamed, always pleased to please her. "It's all yours, my love. View this as your home. If there is any change you would make, anything your heart desires, tell me, and I will make it so."

She nodded, not a single doubt in her mind that his generosity with her would be infinite. He led her through the entrance into a large library. Every wall, even the slivers above the window frames, was lined with bookshelves. Despite the situation, Louise was impressed, her eyes flitting around the room. The nearest shelf bore titles in eutor, but she recognized the name of a contemporary philosopher whose work in psychology was starting to make waves. She suspected every subject would be covered extensively.

"You will find any book you desire in here," said Gerhard, clearly pleased with her reaction. "All except for the musical books, which I've had moved to the conservatory. To replace them, I've doubled the size of the mythology section."

Louise met his grin with shock. "Why mythology?"

He chuckled and bent to kiss her forehead gently. "Don't try to deny that it is your favorite subject, my love. I remember how often you asked me for such books when we were at Ayes Fort. I have gathered books from all over the continent, the south, and the east. Even some primitive writings of the indigenous Marino. You will enjoy them, I'm sure."

Louise had to turn away from him, her eyes darting from shelf to shelf. Feelings of shame and confusion warred with a sense of flattery that she kept trying to shove to the side.

"You don't have to hide your happiness," he commented, hitching his arm to pull her closer. "You will just have to accept the fact that I love you. I know you. Come, I want you to see your piano."

He led her through the library and then a cozy sitting room and to another beautifully carved door. Figures of fairies and animals bordered the central figure, a woman with feathered wings, playing a high harp. Gerhard opened the door, which required no key, and revealed the conservatory.

The piano was a full grand, dark wood with light rings patterning it's curves and surfaces. The feet were gold plated, as were the joints. It was a beautiful instrument, and must have cost him a good deal of money. Then, she circled around to the keyboard and ready the maker: L'oro Dossi, the most renowned makers of the pianoforte.

"This is..." she paused, trying to get control of her thoughts. Her fingers were already lifting up the lid off the keyboard, drawing away the red felt off of the keys. They were made of real ivory and polished ebony. She pressed a light major chord, feeling the perfect weight sink.

Gerhard must have pulled the bench out for her, as she didn't do it herself, but all of a sudden she was sitting at the piano, her fingers flying up and down in a few scales. It was only then that she woke up again.

"What are you?" she asked, looking up at Gerhard, who had come to lean lightly on the piano in front of her.

"Play something for me," he said, "and I will tell you."

Louise looked down at the keys, which alone would cost as much as her piano at home. This was no mere expense, this was a fortune itself, and Gerhard Erle was not just the general she thought he was.

She chose a piece. It was by a rourkan composer, Moroshki, and it was terrifying. Not a single major chord graced her fingers as she played. A swelling, churning undercurrent of deep bass notes crescendoed on her left hand. On her right, thumping, stringent chords that were equally furious and miserable. It was everything she felt in her heart.

It was a short piece, only about five minutes long, and when she finished, she was breathing fast. Her hair, which she had braided after her bath, had loosened enough for a stray hair to fall into her face. She looked up at Gerhard through narrowed eyes, but her anger quickly died away when she saw the look on his face. She recognized it well.

"No," she said, rising from the piano bench and backing away. "No, please, people can see us through the windows."

The conservatory, which she had only noticed peripherally in favor of the piano, was a circular room, likely at a corner of the manor, and as such it was circular. The two walls flanking the door contained the bookshelves with the music books he spoke of. All the rest were windows, letting in a flood of light and giving a splendid view of a sprawling lawn that didn't seem to end. Any odd groundskeeper could pass by and see them together.

He was advancing on her, that predatory gleam in his eyes telling her he was going to disrobe her. Louise was pressed back against the windows, arms coming up to guard her front. Gerhard didn't bother with them, his hands immediately coming to her face to hold her as he kissed her.

It was passion incarnate, his mouth opening up hers, tongue sliding in deep. He urged her on and pressed up against her, his body hard against hers. After a few seconds, she reciprocated, meeting his kisses with her own, moving her tongue into his mouth. It wasn't rational, it went against every bit of sanity she had fought for over the past six years. Instinct had taken over her, animal and powerful. She blamed the music. Moroshki always had a powerful effect on her.

Gerhard growled, the sound vibrating through her before he pulled back. "There's my girl." He smoothed her hair back. "I knew you would love it."

He spun her around like they were dancing. His arms held her gently, but she didn't try to pull away. Her eyes flitted from side to side, looking out of the windows for curious onlookers.

"We are alone," said Gerhard, drawing her face to him with a finger beneath her chin. "You play so beautifully. Why did you keep it from me in Ayes Fort?"

"What piano was there in the fort? And besides, I already whored myself enough without you having me play for all your men."

He frowned, but his thumb stroked her cheek gently. "I would have had you play for your own joy. I can see how happy it makes you."

She couldn't disagree. Even though she had chosen a piece to display her anger, it was a release more than anything. Now, she was just too tired, so she let him hold her and didn't fight.

"I want to fuck you," he said with a breathy voice. "Come, we can see the rest later."

Again, he dipped down and gathered her up into his arms. Louise curled up, resting her head against his chest as tears began to fall. She knew there was no fighting it. She had really known it since she had woken up.

He carried her back to the red room and set her down before pulling the robe off her her. "Knees," he ordered.

Louise looked up at him, trembling, pleading with her eyes. "Gerhard, please."

She didn't know what she was asking for, but she didn't want to get down on her knees. It would only be a beginning.

Gerhard smiled. It was like no time had past at all, and she was back in the fortress, a frightened young woman about to lose herself.

"I want you on your knees in five seconds," he said. She descended, knowing he was counting in his head. "Good girl. I will be gentle with you, as you have forgotten what it's like."

He was unbuckling his belt, untying his trousers, and then his manhood emerged, hard and bobbing. Louise was distraught to say she remembered it intimately.

"I have been dreaming of your lovely mouth. Do you remember what I taught you?"

She hadn't had his manhood in her mouth in six years, but she remembered. Wringing her hands nervously, she stood up on her knees bringing her head to the height of his hips.

She had never understood how he could enjoy bedding a girl who was crying, but her tears had never stopped him.

Her lips pressed to his balls, just where they met his manhood, and then she ran kisses up the length of his cock. He liked this kind of worshipful attendance, and his manhood jumped in appreciation. The man himself let out a low growl.

Louise reached the top of his manhood and fitted her lips around the head, careful not to let her teeth touch him. She began with shallow, little strokes. Her tongue felt and tasted his hot skin, clean yet distinctly flavored like him. His hand came down on her head, stroking her hair as she moved, no pressure, just contact.

"Mm, my good girl. You have a good memory. Go a little bit deeper."

Now he did apply some force, pushing her down to fit more of himself in her mouth, making her strokes longer, touching the back of her throat. She was about to gag, and he was moaning with pleasure.

He used her for quite a while, dictating her pace with his hand, thrusting occasionally, and Louise accepted it all, feeling small and pathetic and tired. Her jaw was aching, having not done this for six years, and he was large. She had to open her mouth a good deal to keep her teeth from grazing him.

Suddenly, he pulled out, his manhood tapping her nose as he removed it. Louise took in a deep breath, unaware how out of breath she was, but then she was being lifted, his hands hitched under her arms.

He pulled her up to his level, high above the floor. Louise scrambled to find purchase on his body, arms wrapping behind his neck, legs gripping his hips. She could feel his manhood beneath her.

His eyes were glistening with joy, a boyish smirk on his face. "I have missed you, Louise. You have no idea. I want to make you as happy as I am."

She stared at him, jaw slack, tears falling from her eyes. "Let me go," she said.

He shook his head, but his smile never faltered. "Never."

He laid her down gently on the bed, the embroidery scratchy against her bare skin. As she let go of him, his hands came down to hold her by the wrists, forcing her arms above her head. His thigh was between her legs, manhood bobbing against her stomach.

"Do you remember how good it felt to give up? How easy it became once you accepted that you belonged to me? It was nothing but pleasure and love and care. Why do you dismiss that like it is nothing?"

Before she could answer, he kissed her gently, just on the lips. It would have been sweet if she had wanted it.

"You never let me have a choice," she said. "You took my virginity and my dignity, and now I have nothing."

He cocked his head, the idea apparently distasteful. "Nothing?" he said in galderan. "You are the most wonderful, beautiful, talented woman in the world. Why are you shamed by our lovemaking?"

He really didn't know, which was shocking to her. "You mean to shame me! You have me use my mouth on you."

He chuckled, a sly smile gracing his handsome face. "As I recall, I often used my mouth on you. More, in fact, than I ever demanded it from you. Is that shameful or pleasurable?"