One Hundred Tears Ch. 01

"You're getting on my nerves, Petrimoev."

"I! Don't! Care!"

Each enunciated word rang like war cries in my own ears, igniting the fire of my fight again. Both grips tightened. I winced from the combined pain of being choked and my wrists being pinned so harshly. Just as quickly as it returned, my fight faded into nothing. Breathing was getting difficult when he finally released my throat.

Sputtering, I sucked in air like a starving man at a banquet. His hand still clasped around my throat, albeit was much looser now. A reminder that he could just as easily hurt me again. My body's survival instinct faded away as breathing returned to a steady pace. Well, steady for a panicked female with a male hovering over her while she wore nothing but underwear.

"I would advise against doing that again."

Remaining silent, he took that as my understanding. His hand moved away from my throat, tracing my collar bone to my breasts. They rose and fell in tandem with my hectic breathing as he grabbed one of them through the cloth bindings. Even with the thin fabric protecting my skin, it still felt maddening. My body responded so eagerly to his touch. I arched into that damned hand so quickly as he simply held it. No groping, pinching or twisting. He just held his hand there. It slid off, and upward, closer to my...my heart.

I was confused, uncaring if he saw it on my face, I searched his eyes for something to tell me what was going on in his head. He closed his eyes, taking in steadying sips of air. Was he listening to my heart? The Gremnag, the enigma, was still for several moments. If it wasn't for the wisps of noises he made through his nose, I'd have thought he was a statue. So still, tranquill even.

"Konwen," he whispered into the silence.

"What?"

"My name, it's Konwen."

"Why the fuck should I care?"

"Because," he started, opening his eyes and looking into me with burning passion in those emerald pools, "I want that to be what you scream when I bring you such pleasure."

"I'll never scream—."

My voice was cut off. Overpowered by my gasp and squirming hips as his finger had, with unbelievable speed, found its way past my smallclothes, and into the folds of my entrance. I was already wet and ready for him. Surprise etched his features, brows risen. His thumb pressed against the collection of very sensitive nerves, tearing a moan from my lips. Traitorous body! He let up, tracing lazy circles around it, driving me crazy with a building need.

I bit my canines into my lower lip, hard enough to draw blood. The coppery taste rested on my tongue as I turned my head away. He scoffed as two fingers pressed past to find the wet warmth of the core of my body. I tightened my muscles, trying to deny him entry. The effort was pointless as it only caused me more pleasure. Whimpering, I tried to shake him off. He was adamant, unmoving.

Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks, only to be quickly kissed away. I tried to keep them away from him too, like everything else, shaking my head to keep him from touching my face. As this continued, I was slowly losing the power to deny him anything. My body was already submitting to the natural tendencies and urges. It wanted this, even if I didn't! I'd not slept with many males before, but at least I wasn't still waiting to be deflowered.

My hips twisted and ground into his palm, his mouth twisting into a proud grin. Opening my mouth, a moan flying free, I was going to chastise him. He had other plans, taking the opportunity to claim my mouth again. The very taste of him was intoxicating, I found. Was it so wrong to want him? To pretend he was someone else for just a few moments? Yes! What the hell was I thinking? Of course this was wrong! But it was so right at the same time.

Yelling into the kiss, mixed with moans and whimpers as he continued to illicit those reactions from me. It was a feedback loop, constantly making things worse for me. The more I moaned, the faster his fingers worked, which in turn only made me roll my hips against the invasive touch. A third finger joined the two, pumping in and out fast. The pressure was like a raging storm inside of me. Release, I needed release. I wasn't sure if I screamed it out loud, or he just read my expressions, when he said.

"My name, Petrimoev. Scream it and I'll give you what you need."

Violently, I shook my head side to side. His voice was so calm, so arrogant. I wouldn't give in, surrender of that last vestige of resistance would be my downfall. Of course, he was an expert at dealing with that it seemed. He kept me on the teetering brink. I groaned and whined, struggling desperately for any bit of extra friction. And when I was getting too aggressive with my ministrations, he pulled away entirely. I was going mad, cracking apart at the seam as that storm raged harder.

"Just one word, Petrimoev. That's all it takes and you can get that release," he cooed into my ear, soft and sensually. And of course, my body reacted again, arching into his heavenly touch. Whimpering as I choked on a sob, I caved.

"Konwen! Please, Konwen!"

"That's it, Morganna. Tell me what you want."

I cried as I answered weakly, "I want to orgasm; please let me come, Konwen."

The words felt so dirty leaving my mouth. I knew that was what he wanted to hear, but it broke something inside of me. But he kissed me so gently, leaving me dazed and wanting more. He pulled his face out of reach before I could try to bridge the distance between us. He studied for a bit, then smiled warmly.

"Your wish is my command. Enjoy this, Princess."

His fingers went into overdrive, plunging deep and exploring my core thoroughly. My body wreathed as I screamed in pleasure, the overwhelming ecstasy settled a haze over my mind. Crack after crack, the dam walls were crumbling. I was so close to the perfect bliss of an orgasm, my one light in the dark of this Gremnag's attack.

Finally, he pressed down hard on my clit and the dam broke wide open. A long, loud scream filled the small space as bolts of lightning sparked every nerve ending in my body. It was as if the storm turned from pressure that threatened to crush me, to a wildfire of pleasure. Konwen drew every second he could of my orgasm out of me, until I was falling back into the bed, panting with exhaustion.

"How about now, Petrimoev? Am I still a Gremnag?" Konwen asked, with a snide tone.

"I hate you."

My voice was weak, barely above a whisper. Konwen laughed, leaning in and chastely kissing me. On this one occasion, I didn't fight him. I reciprocated the kiss, my tongue dancing with his. He'd brought me to orgasm so efficiently and held me, dangling the pleasure in front of me. That easily, that easily I'd let him control me. I was so screwed, and we both knew it.

Konwen pulled himself back. Slowly his fingers came out, drenched in the evidence of my body's betrayal. I blushed fiercely as he sucked on each of the three fingers individually, tasting my essence. And he looked so smug about it, triumphant over what he'd pulled from me. I snarled a warning.

"Easy. I think you enjoyed that. I certainly was amused with the performance. Princess of Ogbani, coming for a scoundrel seeker."

I couldn't bear to look at him, but my body wasn't done with its betrayal. Or maybe I was just so utterly, foolishly stupid as I looked at him, closely. Konwen stood up straight, letting go of my wrists and smoothing out the wrinkles in his leather clothes. There was an obvious erection jutting out from his trousers. That's where my eyes decided to rest, and he caught me. My face heated but didn't turn away. No, I locked into a contest of stares with him, heating my cheeks with a fresh blush.

Then I was unceremoniously caught off guard. Konwen turned and walked away. No violent taking of my body. He just walked out. A few seconds passed before sounds of him slamming something into the tree, repeatedly. There was such force behind the blows that the tree above shook and groaned with each blow. Another surprise came when he started swearing...loudly. There was no target, or maybe he was cursing himself. I stared unbelievingly at the entrance, unsure what to do.

When he finally came back in, the sight of him gave me a sense of relief. Disgusted that I'd be happy at his return, I turned my attention to the dancing embers. The fire cackled into the new silence that stretched on between us. Sparks danced in the stone hovel that enclosed the makeshift hearth. He said nothing, and I was almost able to ignore the fact of what he'd done to me. Though, some part of me irked at the silence. There was no gloating, no promise of further intercourse.

Konwen took up his silent vigil at the fire, munching down on the roasted vegetables he cooked. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. Plotting an escape seemed reasonable, but this was my home. Where else did I have to escape to? By the time I find a new shelter and settle into a secured land, it would be winter. Without food and at least a weakly made shelter, I'd surely die. But staying here would only endanger me in a different way. Just when I thought I was forgotten, Konwen spoke.

"What do you normally have for an evening meal, Petrimoev? You must be hungry, no?"

This certainly wasn't the reaction I expected. And when I looked into his eyes, those deep green pools, I was bewildered by what I found. There was a fleck of emotion in his eyes. Something foreign, an emotion that was alien to him. It must have been so unfamiliar with it himself, because I couldn't tell from the features on his face what that emotion buried in his eyes was.

Then he shifted. It was a slight movement, the message more clear this time. Konwen was impatient, or getting there, with my lack of an answer. I was rather hungry and his implied offer felt genuine. So, taking a leap, I nodded an affirmative.

"Brocco, with a side of peas and carrots. Sometimes I go out and hunt for meat, but I rarely keep leftovers." His eyebrows raised, just enough to draw my attention. I scowled back at him. "What!?"

"Surprised, is all. With all these fruits and vegetables, and no grain. I would have thought you a Gheave."

"I do eat more than just plants," I battled, displaying a bit of anger in my tone.

Konwen chuckled but said nothing more on the subject. He rose from his seat, rifled through my pantry and collected the specified vegetables. He threw them together in a stone pan, resting them over the fire to cook. There was something he withdrew from his pocket, a powder he sprinkled on the brocco and carrots, but avoided getting any on the peas.

"It's a spice. Adds flavor. I usually put it on meats when I travel to inns that can't cook worth a damn. Figured you'd welcome some change to the routine."

His words were gentle, and he looked almost attentive. I didn't respond. Instead, I picked at the charm that now draped my neck. It felt weightless around my neck, but the moment I tried to lift it, the charm weighed more than a mountain. Most likely enchanted to prevent the wearer from removing it without help. Not completely a surprise. He wouldn't have tied my hands in front if he thought I could remove the charm on my own.

Resigned to endure for the time being, I waited for the food to be cooked. I was hungry after what he put me through. The both of us sat in silence, and part of me was thankful for that. It was easier to pretend what I felt wasn't real. Even hating him for that vile act of defilement was effortless. Although, something kept nagging me back to what he did after. How he raged outside. The fury rolled off of him the moment he walked back in. Almost as if he'd punished himself in the clearing.

Tucking it away was hard, but I managed to do it. I would sort through that mess later, preferably when his guard was down and I had a chance to run. Because there would be that opportunity. He'd have to sleep, eventually. Konwen was smart so I doubted I could get away with being cheeky and faking sleep. Not that it made a difference. I could stay awake for long hours. One of the perks of being an elf was natural vigor.

Although... his ears were pointed, leading me to believe he could very well be an elf as well. Konwen had moved with intense speed. Not to mention the strength with which he held me. It's not so much that I considered myself to be a handful, but I expected to be able to at least slip free from his grasp, even without my power. Yes, Konwen was most likely an elf as well, but from which forest? He certainly wasn't from Ogbani. I would have recognized him. If I could take a peek at his tribal tattoos across his back, I could easily identify where he was from.

I snapped myself out of those thoughts, as Konwen rose from the seat. He carried over the cooked vegetables, surprisingly done just to the point I liked them. They were shuffled expertly out of the pan and onto a plate. I picked at the brocco with my hands, and for the first time I felt oddly self-conscious. He was watching me like a hawk, taking a seat in front of me with arms folded across that broad chest. For a flash of a second, I thought about the hard surface that my back had been held to. The weight of him over me. It all felt so right. Primally right, like we were made for each other. But that couldn't be further from the truth. Any male made for me would know how important having some semblance of control meant to me.

Brushing that under the same rug as my other problems to be sorted, I went about eating the meal. It was tasty, and I didn't for a second feel any effects of common drugs. Konwen legitimately just spiced the food for flavor. Hiding my sounds of appreciation was impossible, but I could have easily smacked him for that arrogant smile he was wearing. I shot him a warning growl, to which he raised his brows, as if he was challenging me to fight him over the authority he seemed to think he exuded. Not that I would admit it out loud, but he really did have an aura about him. A commanding presence that seeped under my skin, pulled and tugged at my very soul.

Back and forth, we exchanged looks as I enjoyed the meal, but words were never spoken. When finished, he took the plate away and gestured for me to lay back. I supposed it was bed time then. Laying on my side, my eyes locked to the dying fire, I thought about what could possibly be the reason for these mixed feelings. At least, I assumed I would have the chance to think about that.

Konwen removed his shirt and breeches and joined me on the bed. A powerful arm slung around me and tugged my body close to him. His breath was hot on the nape of my neck, shivers running sprints up and down my spine. I tried to remain extra still when his fingers made lazy circles around my navel, tracing the curves of my waist and hips. So very intimate, kind and tender. Not something one expects from their rapist.

Could I even call him that? Konwen brought me to a high I'd never once experienced before in my life. In doing so, he himself never got any pleasure from it. I know I saw his manhood strain against the confines of his pants, but he never made a move to take me that way. Everything was a muddy mess. I couldn't even discern if I was safe or unsafe with him around. Konwen was such an enigma, an unknown that had turned my perfectly structured life to shambles after just one day.

"You're tensed, Petrimoev. Tell me why." There wasn't a question, or any implied. His voice was thick with an authoritative tone, making me tremble a bit.

"It should be obvious," I answered with a little more spite than intended. "You've taken me hostage, defiled me, cooked for me, cared for me and now lay in my bed as if it was the most normal thing in the world."

"You say that like it's a bad thing." His voice had shifted, morphed into something tender.

"It is!"

"Why?"

"Because it just is!"

"Your feelings of confliction come from our first encounter. But you attacked me first. I simply sought to calm you down. When you resisted and knocked yourself out, I cared for you. When you needed to eat, I cooked and provided what you wanted. We were both exhausted from the strenuous day, so we rest. If you search your thoughts, you know I speak true. I came here on friendly terms and you assumed the worst."

"And tying my hands? Cutting me off from my magic?" I asked pointedly.

"Self-preservation. I wanted you calm and willing to hear me out before you attacked me again, Petrimoev."

"And defiling me..."

"Pleasuring you," he cut in. I scoffed, but continued. "I didn't ask for it, whatever that was. I begged you to stop, and you didn't. That's called rape where I am from."

"Not if it's between lovers. Not if it's between mates. And the only begging you did, Petrimoev, was when you pleaded with me to capstone that pleasure with an unmatchable high."

My face heated, remembering that, I did, in fact, never ask him to stop. How I screamed out his name, as if it was ringing in my ears all over again, making me want to forget the whole thing all over again. Growling angrily, I bristled in his hold. Not just for the unwanted advances he forced on me, but because of how right he was. I didn't demand he stop. I attacked him in the forest first. But he did grab me; I didn't feel safe. Gods above, my mind is such a mess. Everything I felt was rationalized away by logic. He was a threat to my mind, a salvation to my heart. Neither one could tell me why, and it infuriated me.

"I'm neither your lover, nor your mate," I answered in a quiet whisper.

There was a stretch of silence, and I wondered if maybe I only spoke the words in my head. That perhaps I was too quiet. I didn't think I had the courage to say it again. Which was just as bizarre to me as wanting to say it. Finally, he broke the tension.

"There are secrets I would tell you, Morganna. Things you may very likely have no interest in knowing. But they are the truth, and you will have to accept them. The first being, you're without a doubt, mine."

"I am no one's."

"You don't realize it yet, but the bond of our souls is occurring even now. You can't stop it. It is why I came to find you. The invisible hand of fate guided me to you."

"No! You're wrong," I seethed, bristling in his hold that only grew tighter around me until our bodies were practically melding.

"I've never been more certain in my life. And now that I've found you, I refuse to let you out of my sight. I'm taking you home; where we both belong, and I can properly look after you."

"You're insane, I'm not going anywhere with you!"

"Yes, you are." His voice raised into the commanding tone and I felt myself shrink a little in his grip. "We both are going home, and that is final, Petrimoev."

"And where pray tell is home?" I challenged, with a bravado I didn't think was possible right now.

"Ogbani."