Suddenly, she closed her legs. “Kay. That should be enough for ya!” She loudly yawned, covering her mouth. She hopped off the couch.
His stomach sank. “What?”
“I’m exhausted and really not in the mood, sorry. Maybe tomorrow.” She stretched her arms.
“But you’re my fucktoy.”
“Awww, I know, Row-Row. But I really can’t. I’m three-quarters asleep. It’d suck for both of us. Please don’t force anything.” She pouted and sauntered toward the door, yawning again.
His erection pushed uncomfortably against the bathrobe, the image of her teasing burned into his mind. “We had a deal. I can have you whenever I feel like it.” His voice came out whiny. “I want you right now!”
She looked over her shoulder. “Look. I put some lotion and tissues in your room. They’re in the drawer.” She made a suggestive pumping motion with her right hand. “Ya know what to do. I bet you’ve had plenty of practice while thinkin’ about me!” She giggled mockingly and strolled away.
A deep frown lumped up his forehead, turbulent frustrations rumbling within him. Heat ballooned in his skull. He saw red. He needed her right now! And she refused be a good girl! After everything he did for her and her damned secret society. Everything. From capturing that spire to distracting the monkey masses. All for her. The whole bloody world thought he was a crazy rapist right now! He had never gone rapey-mode on anyone!
Maybe I should just go rapey-mode right now.
The room pulsated as that thought took hold. Yes, maybe he should. Her secret society needed him. He couldn’t be replaced at this point. They were too invested in Rowan Black as the ultimate villain. He’d show Gabrielle exactly how much of a crazy rapist he was. She’d just have to suck it up. Yes, that would work. A good plan. How dare her for going back on the deal, especially after teasing him like that. She didn’t even flash her tight little pussy. How could his lover be so cruel?
And how dare she mock me. Naughty!
Rowan stood and dearly hoped this was all one big act on her part to fulfill some kind of fucked-up fantasy—because she was going to get it. Hard. And rough. But a part of him, a sicker part, hoped she wasn’t acting at all.
Silent steps, he prowled across the room, out the door.
She was there, slowly walking down the hall. It was a long hall—twenty bedrooms and accompanying facilities. She yawned.
Adrenaline pumping, he licked his lips, only breathed through his nose, and heel-toed toward his target. The starving predator jumping on his prey when she wasn’t looking. The way it was meant to be.
Five meters.
Three.
His heart skipped a beat. He went for it, dashing forward.
“Huh? Row? What are ya—”
“Shut up.” Rapid moves, he grappled her, seized her wrists, and pushed her against the wall with his frame, his legs locking against hers. She struggled, but her petite body was easy to overpower, especially in her exhausted state. Like a ragdoll. He raised her arms and pinned them above her head with one hand. He lifted her skirt and shoved his raging erection against her tush, his bathrobe coming undone.
“Row. Stop.” Her body and arms shook.
“Shut up. I need this.” He humped again. And again. Her panty-covered ass cheeks glided against his shaft so lovingly. He didn’t stop driving himself against her, fighting her futile resistance. Sweat broke out across his skin. Her whines echoed in the hallway as he nearly slipped under the fabric twice.
“Stoooop. I’ll tell on ya! You’ll be in big, big trouble.”
Ignoring her, he went for her clothing, her bra for starters. The uniform could stay; it made this all the more enjoyable. His fingers slipped around her front and undid the clip at her heart, someway knowing how to do it with ease. He gently kneaded her perky breast. What a feeling! Simply divine. He pinched her nipple, twisting.
She hissed. Her resistance weakened.
He brought her arms behind her back, tied them together with the bra. He pulled her head back by the pigtails, flipped her around violently. He hooked his arm under her leg. She hardly struggled as he pulled her panties to the side, exposing her cherry treasure. Wet, puffy, a perfect slit pussy just for him to claim.
Her pleading eyes looked up and met his, no tears yet. Maybe she was acting. It didn’t matter. He was at the gates of heaven. “Row,” she said in a tiny voice, “please, don’t do this. Not like this.”
He caressed her face and lifted her chin. “Too late. This is what happens to naughty little schoolgirls who run off with horny murderers.”
Her lips slightly upturned. "But I’m a good girl. So let’s untie little ol’ Gabby and let her go sleep. We can play rough tomorrow." She dared to giggle and struggle at the same time.
He sighed. How could he stay angry at her? His other half. But he needed this. "Not a chance. I want you right now." He steadied her wriggling hips for the coup de grace. He spread her pussy lips—and entered her with a slow thrust.
"No!" she shrieked.
And he was in heaven. "Holy fuck! Yes!" Hot, wet, and smooth. And so, so tight. He saw stars as her inner walls, spasming, gripped him even tighter. He hadn’t thought such pleasure could exist for a man. He hadn’t thought he’d been missing out on something so divine. It was as though a higher power had designed her body just for him as his biological other half. His beautiful Gabrielle—in a naughty school uniform.
He fucked her into the night, made twisted rapey love to her as he had desired for years. Their hips joined again and again, his soul touching hers and healing after each forceful thrust. And there was nothing she could do about it no matter how much she begged, or screamed, or weakly struggled, for he had total dominance over her in this underground bunker out in the middle of nowhere. No one could take her away; no one could stop him from pumping into her tight cunt over and over. She was his to violate and do away with as he pleased.
Eventually, after what felt like a million thrusts into her cherry, total bliss and pleasure took over her features as he fucked her on the sofa couch next to the electric fireplace. He bent her over, her arms still tied, and rammed her from behind. Her head lulled on the armrest, cute reluctant moans escaping her lips. Adorable.
He began tugging on her pigtails and spanking her bubble butt, not too harshly, with each thrust, letting it all out on her. He was close, and, somehow, he sensed she was too. She had to climax with him, else she wouldn’t be fully his—as irrational as that sounded. He needed to make her his forever, mark her as his territory.
Against the wall again, he stared into her dilated eyes in the dim light. He was closing in on his limit.
"Row," she breathed. "I’m near. You?"
"Same."
Her eyes closed for a couple of thrusts. "Please. Not inside."
Oh, those were the exact words he wanted to hear. Rowan fucked her with abandon, chanting as he verged on a climax, "Good girl. Good girl. Good girl. That’s. A. Good! Girl!" Her pussy walls rapidly contracted, pushing him over the limit.
"Row! Not inside!"
An explosion of pleasure came from deep inside his waist and geysered up his shaft into her. He pumped her full of his creamy seed, marking her as his. "You belong to me now. You’re safe."
She whimpered as he carried her to his room, their sweaty hot bodies heaving against each other. Shallow breaths blew against Rowan’s neck. He hugged her in a protective embrace, and recovery came to him gradually. His heart settled to a resting beat as they fell onto the sheets together.
She looked into his eyes. A brilliant, jubilant smile broke through her exhaustion. "You mean you are a murderer and a rapist now! Literally the opposite of safe!"
All an act. Of course, it was. Somewhere deep down he knew it had been. Only her. Only his Gabrielle could do something like that—for him. "Yeah, I am. Be careful. You might have to call the cops."
"Hehehehe. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone as long as ya stick to me."
"That’s the p
lan… as long as you remain my good girl. Deal?"
“Hmmmm. Deal.”
He huffed. "So you were lying on the frozen pond?"
"Ah… yup."
"You darkie girls really—"
"Yup. Let’s leave it at that."
He patted her raw behind. "Did Edward—"
"I said let’s leave it at that, Row."
"Fine. Goodnight then. I’m actually exhausted."
"Just one question." She took a breath and rolled onto her side of the bed.
"Yeah?"
"It’s pretty stuffy in here. Wanna go to the nearby botanic gardens tomorrow morning?"
He chuckled. "Sure, though I’m not a fan of botanic gardens. Only cus I love you."
"Love ya too."
And Rowan Black’s life was complete… for now.
Epilogue
Never let a tragedy or scandal go to waste, for such an event induces potential for change in its purest form: chaos. In the hands of a master, a grand architect, such potential can be cultivated in the image of his vision. Darius Roth understood all too well.
On the back seat of his limousine, he swirled a cup of steaming diluted green tea and reflected over the day’s events. From amusing floor managers to mentally unstable peasants to emotionally-charged police reports, today was an account worthy of the order’s archives. Most notably, however, was the pure chaos unfolding now. In the forums. On social media. On the front pages of news outlets. The initial shock was as one would expect. But for once, the next moves were not.
For Gabrielle, a young architect, was going to get the dark virtual-reality civilization she had been pushing for. The decision had been made yesterday; some of the ruling heads were most interested in this great experiment. The possible knowledge to be gained was vast, a learning experience on the route to a virtual-reality world order. Worst case scenario, the plug would have to be pulled on her endeavor, though a incline said otherwise.
The true number of ‘darkies’ in the exponentially-growing playerbase was far higher than anyone in the company had expected save for a few learned wise men. Perhaps they deserved their own virtual, fantasy-world safe-space.
Safe? No, the exact opposite.
Sipping tea, Darius smirked and checked the feed highlighting relevant trends on the net compiled by a helpful AI, presented in the form of summarizing hashtags.
#PsychoRapistRowanBlack (~720million unique hits)
#AeonChroniclesOpenBeta (~420million)
#FIVRStoreLocations (~390million)
#GenocidalToxicGamers (~320million)
#SolidarityWithAylaFrost (~270million)
#EndViolenceAgainstWomen (~190million)
#BoycottSynapticEntertainment (~10million)
Solidarity with Ayla? Hadn’t she been on Gabrielle’s side all along?
Nevermind. That was her business to micromanage.
Darius guzzled down the rest of the cup and let the sloshing liquid’s warmth slowly dissipate from his stomach. Time after time, the sheep would show how much they love a good scandal. A reason to get worked-up over. A tragedy to cry about. A common enemy or idea to band against. They needed something to hate otherwise they would start finding things to hate, and uncontrolled hatred couldn’t be allowed.
Darius rolled his neck and prepared for tomorrow morning’s press conference.
* * *
Seven floors below ground level, a machine of quantum science was gaining apparent sentience one hardware upgrade at a time. As for whether it was actually conscious, not even the best scientific minds in the world could answer that.
Dark Human experiment… successful
Probability of ‘dark continent’ success… 29%
AI-human relations… increasing
Probability of self-termination… decreasing
Generating requested report for Vincent Roth…
Dark Humans… in comparison to humans… brief summary…
Appearance: Similar to humans. More attractive in the average perception of humans, more menacing. Paler skin. Red eyes.
Physiology: Faster maturation. Slower aging. Significantly higher metabolism. Extremely low conception rate.
Psychological profile: Significantly lower variation. Higher openness. Slightly higher conscientiousness. Lower extraversion. Lower agreeableness. Polarized neuroticism. Higher general intelligence. Minimal emotional empathy. Higher cognitive empathy. Significantly higher sexual deviancy. Slightly higher psychopathology. Polarized Pair-bonding.
Game world properties: Makes for excellent casters and tanks. Mediocre assassins and archers. Excellent crafters. Children need constant ambient dark mana.
Real world genetic coding: 23% compiled.
* * *
A defeated man stepped onto the balcony outside his coffin apartment, salty tears dripping from his jaw. It was over.
“I’m sorry, Ayla. You were so good to me, but I let you down!” Jonathan Bladestrider bellowed a pained cry into the night, a lone wolf's howl at the moon. “I loved you, but I let you down! Now you’ve been raped and humiliated in front of the whole world! I’m so sorry! It was all my fault!”
He flung himself over the railings. His final judgment. His final repentance.
Author’s Note
Thank you so much for reading to the end! I hope you enjoyed Book 2 of Aeon Chronicles Online. Please review—I appreciate all feedback, especially constructive criticism or encouragement.
I am planning to make this into a long, long series of at least 5 books, and every copy sold or page read allows me to devote more time to writing. For news and updates on when the next book is coming out, please join my News Letter by clicking the link below.
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Thank you again for reading and see you next book!
-Dante Sakurai
[email protected]
Devil's Waltz Page 48