by Marian Tee
Her back hit something solid the same time the man’s body completely covered hers, his hardness – every damn inch of him was hard, and that included his penis, his oh-my-God-that-thing-is-going-to-tear-me-apart penis!
George went wild. She screamed her head off, kicking, punching, and struggling any way she could. She was not going to be raped. She was not!
“Relax,” the stranger growled against her throat just before he twisted both her arms over her head and then -
He stepped back.
George tried to pull her hands away but it was as if someone – something – had pinned her to the tree. She strained to look up, but all she could see was darkness and the still-bent trees over her. She tried to pull harder, twisting in every way just to get loose but there was no…escape.
“What’s your name?”
The voice was hypnotically beautiful but commanding and powerful at the same time – the voice of authority, the kind that was used to being obeyed instantly.
“Fuck you.”
Her fierceness pleased him, making it harder for Silviu to keep his voice unsmiling but mild as he asked, “Why did you take your top off, milady?”
The accent and that last word he murmured tipped her off. A local, no---a titled local, George realized. She was almost out of her mind with fear, but she forced herself to file away the possibly useful information. Thoughts of Marquis de Sade entered her mind, and those she pushed away completely. Those thoughts, she totally had no use for.
“Milady?”
“I…” Oh God – did she tell the truth? What if he thought her insane…and that was some kind of turn on for him? “I…was…hot?”
“You are,” Silviu affirmed, unable to hold back the thread of possessiveness that lined his voice as he studied the girl before him. With her arms over her head and the tree against her back, she was forced to stand straight, thus pushing out her cotton-covered breasts.
He inhaled, struggling for control. As a half-incubus, desire was a power he wielded easily. Apparently, it was not applicable if the girl in question was his heartkeeper.
George could feel eyes travelling all over her body, the hunger in the stranger’s gaze palpable. It made her squirm in mortification.
“Look at me.” The voice was smooth as velvet, a silken command that George found herself obeying against her will. She saw knee-high boots, the most expensive kind – she had spent more than enough time here to know the difference by now.
His breeches were also expensive, appearing warm, luxurious, and custom fitted, outlining the strength of his obviously-muscular legs. He wore no coat – only the finest lawn shirt, white as snow, unbuttoned low enough to reveal a golden triangle of skin, smooth and hard.
George hesitated when her gaze focused on his lips, the sight of it – thin, defined, and beautiful – making her feel sick in the strangest and most shameful way.
Oh God, this couldn’t be happening---
“Look at me.”
She did.
And her worst fears came true.
He was the most beautiful man George had ever seen. Words like sculpted and chiseled were often used to describe someone who was gorgeous in a manly way, but somehow even those words did not feel enough to describe this man’s appeal.
His every feature was perfect – high cheekbones, aristocratic nose, and strange bright eyes that seemed to be colorless one moment and then possess all the fucking colors of the rainbow in the next. And oh! That hair – gold, blond, shiny and long – George had always thought guys with long hair as aging frustrated rock stars, but on this man – ah, this man.
He made the long-haired Orlando Bloom look like a fucking sissy.
He made her think of Vikings come to life.
He made George want to run away screaming because he was making her feel so goddamn weird!
And so she tried to do just that, but the invisible ropes around her wrists seemed to tighten the more George struggled.
What. The. Fuck.
George struggled harder.
“Milady.”
“I’m not your fucking lady!” In her fury, George looked up to give the man her most evil scowl but instead their gazes clashed.
And with it, he consumed her.
A sensation she had never felt before unfurled inside her body, responding to the essence of him in the most basic level, causing George to press her legs together as hard as she could. Dammit. She really was going insane. How could being stared at by her possibly-would-be-rapist make her feel this…this weak? This hot?
She blinked, and he was still several feet away. She blinked again, and he was standing next to her body once more.
George opened her mouth to scream, but his lips closed over hers instead.
Too. Much.
It was her first kiss. Her first kiss and it was gone, stolen, just like that – George might have cried over it, but she couldn’t, not when his firm lips moved so agonizingly slowly over hers. His lips pressed and lifted over hers repeatedly, pressing little kisses everywhere as if he had all the time in the world to enjoy her.
George’s body was weakening, but she did her best to fight the languor that the stranger’s kisses was weaving over her. Even this close, only their lips touched but it did not matter. His heat was…
Too. Much.
A soft broken gasp slipped past her lips. The heat of his body was intensely explosive, making it unnecessary for him to touch George to possess her. He already fucking did – just by standing this close.
Silviu reluctantly lifted his head, his breathing harsh as he gazed down at her. Her lips were swollen by his kiss, and the sight of it fascinated him. He rubbed his thumb on her lips soothingly.
“I’m sorry.”
She did not answer, but her eyes shot sparks at him. No, you are fucking not.
A sense of premonition gripped Silviu at that instant, tempting him with a vision of the future – of this very girl cursing him through the bond they would share when she became his heartkeeper. This girl would always fight him, never let him walk all over her – and she would be even more passionate in bed.
He could not fucking wait for that damn day to come.
When her captor looked down at George, he was smiling.
The sight of it convinced her. He was crazy – and she was drugged. Somehow, he had gotten drugs into her system, which had now taken effect and were causing her to imagine all sorts of things. Like her hands over her head? It was not magic, not fucking supernatural powers of any kind at work – it was her nervous system not cooperating because of the drugs.
“Tell me why you took your top off.”
“Fuck---” He made a move towards her, and fearing that she had provoked the stranger into hitting her, George lost her courage and said quickly, “I’m sorry! I’m going to tell you the truth now!”
The stranger moved back, his face once again a picture of patience.
“I was taking it off because there’s this legend I know that when there are elementals trying to trick you, they can cause you to have hallucinations. The only way to escape them is to turn your shirt inside out.”
George kept her voice as low as possible and she did her best to slur her words, hoping the tactics were enough for the stranger to misunderstand her.
She looked up, and her heart sank.
He appeared stunned, which meant he did hear and understand every word George had said – and his next words confirmed it. “That’s fucking stupid.” He paused, adding in an extremely innocent voice, “But maybe if you strip down completely…”
“Fuck you.” The words were out before George could stop them.
Ah shit. Rule #1 for victims who wanted to survive was never to provoke their captors unnecessarily. And she had done exactly that. She was so in it for now.
George squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop herself from cringing as she readied herself for an attack---
But it never came.
When George opened her ey
es, he was smiling again.
Fuck, he really was crazy.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was incredibly gentle, but that only made her more nervous.
“But I am a very possessive man.” Now, his tone became a mixture of warning and apology at the same time. “And worse, you must be made aware that with you, I think I will become…jealous, too.”
He said a lot of other stuff, but by then George no longer heard a word he said. All she wanted to do was weep.
Fuuuuuuuuuck.
It was just her luck to come across a serial rapist or killer who also happened to be the craziest son of a bitch in town!
“Milady?” Silviu had to say it thrice before his beautiful girl looked up, her eyes questioning. She had not been listening at all, he realized in exasperation.
He sighed.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sound.
Good. Now he had her attention.
“Listen well, my lady.” This time, Silviu allowed just a little bit more of his powers to emerge, and the combination of angel and incubus made her automatically sway towards him.
Good.
“If you ever have such a thought again – any thought that involves showing your body to anyone else but me…”
George screamed. Of course she would fucking scream, what with her captor’s large hands suddenly covering her breasts. And he did so completely!
She had embarrassingly full breasts, the kind that made it difficult for her to shop for bras. They were so large she had always thought they would spill out of a man’s hands – well, now she knew. She was mistaken.
Her captor’s large hands squeezed her covered breasts and she shook her head wildly. It was the only thing she could do. George wanted to scream, but she didn’t, afraid that instead of a horrified shriek a moan would come out instead. The way he was touching her drove her mad, with the way his fingers moved this way and that, tantalizing her senses.
It’s the drugs, George. You’re not really---
Tweak.
He had pinched her nipples, gently, but it was just too much.
Too. Much.
George moaned, a sound impossible to prevent as his fingers tightened over her breasts once more.
“These are MINE.” He spoke quietly, the possessiveness he warned her about more than evident in his voice. It vibrated, demanded, captivated –
Fight off the drugs, George! You’re not aroused. He’s just making you think---
He began to knead, and his touch became hotter, burning through the cotton. “These beautiful breasts can’t ever be seen by anyone’s eyes but mine.” He squeezed her breasts hard just before tweaking her nipples again, teasing them mercilessly like a master would with his harem slave.
Look at me, hear me, follow me, that simple but oh so hot touch said, and so George reluctantly raised her head to meet her captor’s gaze.
His eyes burned bright as they held hers, an uncompromising hardness falling on his beautiful face. “Do you understand me, milady?”
George’s mind begged her to say ‘yes’ and be done with it, but her pride rejected giving in too quickly and so she glared and shook her head at him.
“Stubborn girl,” he growled.
This time, he tore her bra away, cupping her naked breasts in his hands, branding her body with the unforgettable exquisiteness of his touch.
When he squeezed her breasts this time, her entire body shook. Desperately, George renewed her struggle to free herself, but her limbs still did not cooperate, no matter how much she strained against the effects of whatever fucking drugs this man had given her.
His stubborn girl was so obviously afraid, but still she fought. Perhaps a nicer man would be moved to pity by her actions, but instead it filled Silviu with a deep all-consuming sense of satisfaction. More and more he was convinced that he had finally found her – the woman meant to be his heartkeeper, the one woman in the world Silviu would be able to trust to fight for his soul as valiantly as he would fight for hers.
Her captor’s touch on her body suddenly gentled, but it became no less arousing. His fingers circled her nipples, teasing but not quite touching, as if all it was meant to do was torture her with the promise of pleasure.
“Soon,” Silviu whispered. “You will be my heartkeeper---”
George shook her head wildly, trying to get past the havoc his damn tormenting fingers were wreaking on her senses. They made her want to scream, something along the lines of, ‘Just pinch my nipples – pinch it so I’d stop wondering how it would feel like!’
His fingers suddenly stilled, and George was torn between shuddering in relief and moaning in protest. This is good. This is bad. This is---fuck these drugs, fuck!
Desire and confusion were warring in her turquoise eyes, and Silviu knew that the girl was still doing her very best to stay immune to his touch. “It won’t work,” he said simply. He tried to touch her face, but she turned her head to the side, avoiding his touch.
“You are my heartkeeper---”
“I don’t want to be your fucking housekeeper!” Her captor’s lips tightened at the words and George tensed again, wondering if she had finally pushed him beyond his limits.
Silviu gazed at her, knowing his face would appear coldly furious to her even though it was all he could do not to laugh. A housekeeper, he thought. The urge to laugh became stronger.
He cupped her face, and this time he did not allow her to avoid his touch. She flinched as he briefly caressed her cheek, but he ignored it. Soon, she would know he would never hurt her and that the kind of pain he could inflict as a half-incubus would always give her pleasure.
“What is your name?”
“Asshole.” His lips tightened again, and George lifted her chin defiantly even as her stomach churned in fear. She would not give up – she would fucking fight to her last dying breath.
“Stubborn girl.” But the growled-out words sounded more like an endearment.
She glared at him. If this bastard thought he could make her relax with stupid shit like that, he was in for a fucking surprise.
Silviu started to speak, but then all of a sudden a current of power pulsated through the darkness. He froze, realizing what it meant.
No.
Thousands of miles away, a wolf howled, a terrifying sound that even this far had the hairs on his skin bristling in awareness of the fury that went with it.
A second after, there was the sound of exploding glass, as if reacting to a supersonic wave that only a powerful vampire could release.
And lastly, there was the haunting roar of a tremendous wave rising in the middle of the ocean before crashing down, the kind that could only be commanded by the mightiest of ceti.
It was a tribute, a threat, a warning – all of it, the work of Silviu’s Galeré, once the abandoned bastards of demon dukes before his mother, Magdalene, took them in.
For almost an entire millennium, his Galeré had served him with unwavering faith, their bond forged in ways their demon kin would never be able to comprehend.
To give him up to Death went against everything they believed in, and their pain lashed out at Silviu, jerking him back to awareness, telling him that he had to let his comrades know the Fates were no longer forcing him to welcome death with open arms.
He looked down at the girl he had caged with his powers of compulsion, her body so stiff it was obvious she was just waiting for the killing blow. But even though she was afraid, he could see that she was also aware of what was happening around them, her eyes darting around warily, as if searching for other imminent signs of danger.
How could a human girl be so intuitive, so brave – so fucking perfect for him? Silviu had seen the heartkeepers of other demons and they had not been like this. Not one of them had even a fraction of this girl’s immense strength, and not even the most beautiful of those women had been able to hold sway over the demons whose souls they shared.
This girl was…like no one else.
Everything in Silviu clamored to woo her with kisses, to make her body long for his touch until she would capitulate to his every wish.
But right now, it wasn’t meant to be.
His Galeré waited, and he would not be the duke he was if he was to put his own selfish needs before those who had risked their lives countless times for him.
“My lady, I bid you to listen.”
You can fucking bid to death, but I won’t listen.
His lips tightened.
Her courage wilted. She nodded jerkily.
His lips tightened even more, but his voice was soft and gentle as he said, “I shall let you go unharmed on one condition, milady.”
She didn’t answer, the wariness only deepening in her gaze.
“You must agree to be my heartkeeper.” This time, Silviu lent emphasis to the word, needing her to truly hear what he was saying.
George didn’t know if she wanted to roll her eyes, laugh, or weep. Oh my fucking…how crazy could this psycho get?
The look his lady unconsciously gave him threatened Silviu’s tight rein over his emotions, making him want to smile. But Silviu did not – he must not. He needed her to be so terrified of him that she would not ask any questions.
To always speak the truth was one of the unassailable conditions of heartkeeping, but Silviu could not afford to be truthful with her right now. How was he to explain to a human girl that he was half-demon, half-angel and that without her, the fate of Brimstone – and eventually the whole world – was doomed?
No, for now – it was best if she simply said yes of her own volition, without making Silviu utter a single lie.
When the stranger said nothing else, only gazing at her implacably, George knew she had no choice but to take the bait. “A heart…keeper,” she repeated slowly even as her mind raced.
She might be drugged, but she wasn’t crazy. On the other hand, this guy was definitely out of his mind. If George said yes, maybe he would let her go. Maybe.
George closed her eyes. In the end, she really didn’t have a choice.