Red Silk Pt. 03

He switches to Gaelic and goes on for a while. I roll my eyes at his scolding of Storm. It's a horse, for God's sake. He must wonder when humans have lost it.

Yet Storm is backing away from us and into the sea, far enough that waves lick his belly. Then he turns and starts swimming. I scream and call him back. He doesn't listen. I grab Eoghan's sleeve.

"See what you did? Storm is in danger now, you scared him into the sea. Tell him to come back, he might listen to you."

Eoghan scoffs. "He is strong, he crosses the bay all the time. Don't worry about him. I hope he is sorry for what he did."

"What about the undercurrent? You said it's deadly..."

"For you, it is. Not for him. He is not taking useless risks, unlike you..."

"I'm not... Oh, forget it!" I pull up my hood and stumble up the track while trying to keep an eye on Storm. It's useless. I stumble a couple of times and I've lost sight of his head. So I march back to the castle to sulk in my room.

***

It's dark again. The day has gone quickly since my morning adventure. I've spent it mostly reading and feeling sorry for myself. I called Dad after lunch and it lifted my spirits a bit. Reminded me why I'm doing this. I waited till the last minute to prepare the room, and myself. Fresh candles, fresh bed, fresh girl. My hair is still damp from the shower as I lower my head on the pillow.

Grab the drops, right eye, left eye.

Pull the sheet up to my chin.

Wait, fighting the urge to run.

Breathe, slowly, in and out.

In, and out.

In, and out.

"Are you afraid Moira?"

I nearly jump out of my skin. I was so focused on avoiding a panic attack I didn't hear him come in.

Yet he is here. He climbs on the bed and sinks in the mattress besides me. I can't help but flinch.

"You ARE afraid. Why?"

I lick my dry lips. "I am not, not really. Anxious, rather. Worried." My hands fuss with the silk.

"Tell me, sweet lass. What worries you so?"

His dated speech nearly brings a smile to my lips. From someone else it would sound ridiculous, but it somehow fits his persona and the antique decor. To be fair, his voice would make the silliest words sound great.

"You. Not seeing you. Not knowing you. That weird thing you do with your humming. Being tied up. Having to do it all over again. The size of you..." I blurt out, and burst into tears as I list the reasons for my misery.

"I hoped we were past this," he sighs, and pulls me into his side.

I can feel the coolness of his skin under his linen shirt. I shiver. "Well, I'm sorry for being a human, not a sexbot." I'm crying hard now, and the fabric under my cheek is getting wet. Serves him right. I've never met a guy so insensitive.

"Calm down," he answers, stroking my hair, "I only meant I thought I had been clear last night. I'll do my best to answer your questions, when you are ready to ask them."

"Okay," I hiccup, although it takes a few minutes for the sobs to stop.

When they do, I just blurt out the first words to cross my mind. "Why are you so cold?"

He shrugs. "It's normal for me. I was born like this. Does it bother you?"

I sniffle. "It's weird, that's all."

"But not unpleasant?"

A flash memory of last night turns my cheeks fire truck red. "Just weird." I'm nothing if not stubborn.

"If you say so." The amusement in his voice shows he isn't duped. Darn him.

"And what's with the singing? Are you a mentalist or something?"

"Something. It's a little talent I was taught a while ago and that I perfected over time. Call it hypnosis if you must, or a mantra of sorts. It works quite well, don't you agree?"

"I'd rather not have you use it on me. I hate being subdued. Or bound."

"Then I'm sorry about it. You were starting to panic and I wished to make the experience pleasurable for you, so that you would be inclined to renew it. It seems that understanding the works of the female mind isn't my strong skill."

"Hell no, it isn't! You could have stopped! I begged you to stop!"

"Again, I'm sorry, but you did sign a contract. There is no walking back from a deal with my kind."

"Your kind? What are you, Beelzebub?"

He laughs. "A far cousin, maybe. Let me check my family tree."

"Not funny," I huff. "I hated it, all of it. Why are you so big? I thought I had been ran over by a train this morning. Without that cream you gave me, I wouldn't have been able to walk. I really don't want to go through this again."

"I do not recall you complaining all that much. As for my size, I'm very tall, and proportionate, but my unguent will also increase the elasticity of your tissues, so you should be able to receive me comfortably from now on. Did you really think once would be enough to guarantee conception?"

I can nearly hear his eyebrows rising. I've been silly, I know. I just don't like anyone rubbing my nose into it. "It has been seen to happen, okay? There is no law against being hopeful..."

"You do realize pregnancy might not even occur this month? I hope it will, but I can't say I'd be very sad should it not..."

I blanch. What if it doesn't take this cycle, or the next, or the one after next? I could be stuck here forever. Did I agree to become a sex slave? Why are the walls moving? The candles must have gone off, darkness is closing on me...

***

There is an icepack on my forehead. His hand. I guess it can be useful.

"You freaked out," says mister Obvious, "maybe you should reconsider your position about my magic trick. It would keep you grounded."

"No, please. I'll be good, don't do this to me again." I'm telling, not begging. Do I sound like I'm begging? Perhaps I should drink, it would help with my nerves. "Can I go to the kitchen real quick instead? A glass of wine will do just as well..."

"Absolutely not. My solution calms your mind, leaving your awareness intact. Alcohol cannot replace it."

"But..."

"And I'll still bind your wrists. You are too skittish to remain unrestrained."

"What? I..." Before I can express my indignation, I find myself tied to the headboard. I pull on the rope and try to kick him, but he is surprisingly fast for his size. He kneels between my thighs and I howl in protest. "You said you were sorry for last time. Cut me loose now!"

I mean it as an order, but it comes out a pathetic plea. I'm not exactly in a position of power and I know it. I'm a champ at delusion though, and I set out to prove it. "If you don't free me right now, I swear I'll make you pay for it later!"

His laughter reverberates in the room, bouncing on the stone walls. "Never make threats you can't enforce, delicious Moira, especially to one of my kin. A kitten hissing at a tiger is cute. Clever, it is not. I'm tempted, oh so tempted, to take you at your word. Unleash you and see what happens. Is this what you want?"

He leans over me, hands pressed on the bed right under my arms, caging me. His mouth brushes my neck and his hot breath fans my ear as he repeats: "Is this want you want?"

His voice is menace and sin, dark and silky, like the curtain of hair framing my face as his teeth tease my skin. My body responds in kind, scared and aroused and confused.

"Moira..."

My name sounds erotic on his lips.

"Must I choose for you?"

Choose? What choice? Is he serious about this?

"Three, two, one..." A nip per number, each one triggering an eruption of liquid heat.

"Wait!" What was the question? I can't think straight. "Option one?" I don't remember what it is, but option two seems the dangerous pick.

"Playing safe, aren't we? Intriguing, in a girl who flew across the world to carry the child of a stranger..."

"Well, I'm not that brave."

"You might surprise yourself."

He slides down and his mouth attacks my breasts, his tongue doing unthinkable things. Things that render thinking irrelevant.

I fight against my bonds. I want to grab his head, thread my fingers in the long strands and lock him there forever.

He smiles and bites gently, making me moan and arch into him. "Is the lack of control still bothering you?"

A groan is my bright retort. Not the right time for philosophy.

"Or is it exciting you?" He palms the inside of my thigh, thumb grazing my core. Begins a slow descent, kissing his way around my navel to stop short of his goal.

"Waiting for your answer."

"I hate you." I squirm to entice him a little lower.

"Yes or no?"

Truth or dare? Dare. "No?" My voice is too breathy to convince me, let alone him.

"You are a terrible liar. And liars deserve to be punished."

"Pu...punished?" The fear is back with a vengeance. What is he going to do? My breathing rate is picking up. Panic attack, here I come.

"Don't worry, this won't hurt a bit." I feel his grin on my belly and it reassures me. A tad. He was joking, wasn't he? Had to be.

My train of thoughts derails as he plunges into my folds, the icy-hot treatment working even better the second time. I hook my legs on his shoulders to bring him closer. Heat is building fast and I'm ready to ignite.

But he douses my lusty embers, switching his warm tongue for a chilly and steadfast hand. My shameless attempts to grind against it are for naught. The cooling puts a stark damper on my arousal, and I clench my fists in frustration.

"Why on earth did you stop?"

"You need to work on this short-term memory, Moira."

I gawk at him, until the cartoonish light bulb flicks on. Punishment. This is me being punished. Oh lord. This is so not fair.

I tell him. He ignores me and dives back.

***

How many times has it been? Ten, fifteen, twenty? I have long lost count. I'm a sweaty, disheveled, babbling mess, with chafed wrists and jelly legs. I can hardly remember my name, my whole being centered on my swollen lady parts. I'm so loaded a single touch would cause a nuclear explosion.

He denies me that touch. I would cry if I had any fluid to spare. I've begged him, really begged him, promised him anything if he would have mercy. Allow me one orgasm.

Then something broke inside me and I stopped trying. I won't come until he decides it, if he decides it, and I can't do anything to change this. I don't fight anymore, I lie there and endure his torture.

This time is different. He drags me to the brink and lowers himself on his elbows, his tip nudging my weeping entrance. Burying his face in my neck, he stabs into me. I convulse around him, arching until I'm suspended on his shaft, every nerve firing in a near seizure. My scream might have spooked the wildlife within a mile radius.

I've never done drugs, but this must be close to an overdose, and I stay high until he finishes with a roar.

I land in the cradle of his arms, cold and shaking. A glass of water finds its way to my chapped lips, warm blankets wrap around me. He holds me while I calm down, kissing and stroking my hair.

"Will you lie to me again, Moira?"

I shake my head frantically. No lying. Lying is bad.

"Excellent. See you tomorrow night then, same time and place. Good night, sweet girl."

Right on cue, sleep engulfs me.