A Lair So Sinful

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A Lair So Sinful Page 8

by Zoey Ellis


  Peering down, she saw sections of rock under the window jutted out into a wide, long ledge. The rock created a path of ledges that led down from the opening, starting with one that was within easy reach from the edge of the window. She squinted and twisted her head in an attempt to see all the way down the mountain. It was steep and extremely jagged, but that didn’t mean it was impossible to climb down to safely. Still, she had to be smart about it. She had an inkling that this wasn’t the best way to leave the mountain.

  Holding up her hand, she pressed her palm toward the opening of the window, and sure enough, as Tvesha had said, a light tingle bubbled on her hand, and a ripple of magic flared across the entire opening but her hand went right through it, so that was pointless.

  A sound out in the corridor jolted her out of her reflection, and she froze for moment before searching for the table where she was supposed to be laid out on. She had to be in position when he entered!

  Looking around wildly, she saw the table that Dayatha had referred to. It was squat and shaped like a box, and at just the right height to lay her torso on while she knelt. She carefully positioned herself so that her thighs pressed firmly along the side. The table was somewhat cooler than the temperature in the rest of the lair, and she relaxed onto it, releasing a sigh of relief. Further along the table were the two handles Dayatha had referred to. They were shaped as cones and just within arm’s reach for her grab if she needed to.

  Anticipation of seeing the giant man again kept I’mya tense, every sense extending as far as it could. What if he was the dragorai? What if he wasn’t? She wasn’t sure which thought frightened her more. She was waiting for a change in her environment but nothing came.

  She relaxed onto the table, pressing her cheek into the cool wood. Maybe he wasn’t coming, maybe he had other, better things to do.

  But just as the thought crossed her mind, the main door opened.

  I’mya held her breath, her heart beating so wildly, she could feel it underneath the table. Whoever came in was heavy, their footsteps clunking around the room as they moved about.

  Curiosity almost made I’mya look back, but she forced herself not to. Looking at him may indeed frighten her enough to simply run out of the room, and that would be unacceptable. She would never be able to escape Dayatha, and the woman would surely make her pay in one way or another.

  The footsteps behind her abruptly stopped for a long moment, replaced by the shuffling of bedsheets.

  Maybe he was going to sleep?

  She quietly sighed in relief. Maybe he was too tired to make use of her?

  As she was considering what to do next, a familiar scent swept over her and her stomach dropped. It was him. The giant who had tortured her was in the room. Warm and enticing, his scent comforted her, soothing the tension from her body and allowing her to relax completely on the table. Unable to help herself, she breathed in a deep breath, sighing as she released it. That scent was probably the best thing about the lair that she’d discovered so far.

  A fluttering began in her stomach and a sudden tickle started between her legs. Horrified, she closed her legs as slick began to gather and trickle down her thighs.

  She wondered if she should just get up and leave. The master was not going to make use of her—he was probably sleeping. Surely she wasn’t supposed to wait around until he woke? That could be hours from now.

  Then, before she had time to consider what to do, the noise started again behind her. Shuffling, and then footsteps. To her horror, they were heading directly toward her.

  A gruff grunt sounded behind her, and tension sparked throughout her body at the sound of his voice, but she was too relaxed, too soothed by the scent to return to the tense state she had been when she first laid down. The man behind her made a noise that twisted the inside of her stomach, and at the same time an enormous hand gripped the back of her hair. His fingers scraped along her scalp into a fist that lifted her head off the table, turned her head to the other side and pushed it back down. As her cheek slammed onto the stone, she tried to look at him out of the corner of her eye as he pinned her head down and leaned over her.

  “’et don la!” He face was twisted in rage. “si zidakhe gi tas pe kve! si may si dvak pem days stodakh pe ’et.”

  I’mya awaited for the echo but it never came. She stared at the man, wondering how much he was going to make her suffer this time—and deep down, if he was going to bestow pleasure. As much as she hated what she went through, the pleasure peak was truly beyond anything she’d ever experienced, not that she remembered if she had. But constantly surrounded by rutting bodies around the lair had made her more aware and more agitated.

  His furious eyes flitted over her body again, and she couldn’t help the clench in her core as she watched that fury transmute to hunger.

  “I’m not supposed to be here,” she said slowly. “Please, just release me from your service and I will leave.”

  “’et kla si m sigakh de pebel kveme ma dvakal botzen meze?” The man’s brow arched.

  I’mya shook her head. “I don’t understand you.”

  “kev, zmukh ’et mesh si ukes kmeyes as kla plagued shaf bos,” the man said, annoyance in his tone. “as is gi kod, bnum siv.”

  I’mya stared at him, bewildered by his words. Was he going to let her go or not? It wasn’t clear whether he could understand her, and if he did, he should know that she didn’t understand. A low, gruff mumble of words reached her ears just before the magic in the air began stir again. The table she lay on rose up sharply, and she squealed in surprise, grabbing onto the handles to make sure she didn’t fall. The table was now hovering in the air, and her feet dangled, only her toes grazing the floor.

  She remained still, choosing to wait and see what he would do. Extending her awareness, she listened for anything that would give any clue as to what was coming. Magic was fresh and thick in the air as usual, but that just made her even more wary of how he was going to use it.

  After a long moment, a string of rhythmic words left his lips and dread gripped her chest. He was casting an incantation. I’mya held her breath, waiting to see what the consequences would be, and within a few moments, icy cold tendrils began to thread along her spine, from the very bottom, all the way into her neck. She shivered as it nestled into her bone, vibrating gently, waiting for instruction.

  “gih ’et don la, si kla dvay gimnef eni ko’ dvay abnurakh, ’et nu bnum?” This time, the echo appeared a few seconds after he spoke each word. “Since you are here, I think we should finish what we started, don’t you?”

  I’mya gritted her teeth. He was planning to hurt her again. She had hoped he wouldn’t, but she also knew he was a maniac. The cold tendrils running along her spine burrowed deeper into her bone, vibrating as it did. A smattering of sharp discomfort traveled along her back and down her limbs, but it wasn’t anything too unbearable just yet.

  I’mya desperately tried to think of how to fight him back using magic. If she had managed to create a shield before, then she should be able to again. But she couldn’t remember the words she’d used. They just appeared out of nowhere when she thought she was being burned to death.

  Suddenly the pressure on her spine increased tenfold, and she gasped at the uncomfortable ache in her back.

  The alpha uttered a single word and her spine curved as the magic lurched upward, pulling her with it. She rose off the table, her arms and legs dangling as the magic lifted her spine upward.

  Agony shot through her, as if her spine was being ripped from her back. I’mya gritted her teeth, refusing to cry out and give him the satisfaction of her screams. She still remembered his amusement the last she cried out, and she refused to give him that again. But as she rose into the air, she was distracted by warm, wet lapping on her inner thigh. She tried to twist, to see what he was doing, but her spine spasmed, so she dropped her head and looked between her legs. The dragorai was there, licking and sucking the wetness on her thighs. She stared in shock, mostly amazed
at the enraptured look on his face. There was no doubt he was enjoying himself, and that was… well, highly arousing. The sight of him only made her slick run faster, but he wasn’t complaining as it pooled around his skillful tongue. I’mya’s core clenched, eager for him to turn his attention between her legs, but she was distracted by the pain still ricocheting up her spine.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  Before she could say anything further, he traveled upward, lapping across her slit to the other thigh.

  I’mya whimpered, wriggling again even though she knew it would cause pain to spiral over her body. The dragorai took his time, leisurely licking as though he had all the time in the world.

  When she almost couldn’t take anymore, he returned to her center, slipping his tongue in to cradle and caress her bundle. I’mya exhaled deeply and sunk all her attention into the feeling of his tongue, relief and pleasure expanding against the pain. She watched his muscled chest as he pleasured her, and the bulge in his pants told her that he was not going to remain satisfied with this action for long.

  But soon, everything fell away except the jumble of pleasure building within her, clawing to a crescendo that she desperately needed in order to escape the pain. She sunk all of her attention into the feeling, tilting her hips for more, absorbing every sound, every feel, every touch of the dragorai as he brought her higher, taking her to the peak of ecstasy thundering around her whole body until she was gasping, pleading for her release. When his fingers grazed her nipple, she shattered, tensing her whole body and screaming as she was swept up in the rapture that claimed her.

  By the time the feeling abated, the pain had almost gone and she was limp, her limbs swinging in the air..

  “You said you didn’t belong here, but you are a new kon’aya.” His voice was grave, but not yet threatening. “You lied.”

  I’mya said nothing. What could she say? She knew she didn’t belong here but she couldn’t tell him that, nor she could she explain what she had been doing in that part of the lair. If he wanted to punish her for lying, he could. She wasn’t sure she expected to leave this room alive anyway.

  “I told you to remain where you were and you left,” he said, his voice deepening in displeasure. “I spent the last five days looking for you. Your deception is unacceptable.”

  I’mya’s breath hitched. He had been looking for her? Why? He had a new influx of kon’ayas—he didn’t need to find a particular one to satisfy his needs.

  The dragorai rose to his feet and I’mya stilled, her breath shallow as she waited for what was next. But instead of unbuckling himself, his large hand rubbed the roundness of her bottom, caressing both cheeks and squeezing them before coming down heavy, delivering a hard, sharp slap on the roundest part.

  I’mya gasped, jerking at the shock of the sting, but nothing could compare to the shuddering agony it caused along her spine as the magic embedded in her jostled. It was as though her spine was splintering and breaking apart. Before she had time to scream, another slap came. And another, and another. Until she was screaming in agony. So this was why he was looking for her—to inflict more pain.

  I’mya reacted without even thinking. She kicked out, her heel catching the dragorai in his stomach area, possibly in his groin.

  He stumbled back, a roar powering from his lips.

  “You are a coward!” I’mya raged, her fists tight as she thrashed her arms and legs, causing an incredible amount of pain in her back. But she didn’t care. She would rather knowingly inflict the pain on herself than be at his mercy. “It’s easy to torture someone when you have them tied up or pinned down with magic!”

  A moment of silence, and then he chanted and the magic in her back tilted her upright before fading, melting into a soothing sensation on her back. I’mya stopped thrashing, trying to catch her breath as her spine was massaged. She still hovered in the air, magic holding her up as it did before, with her back to him, but she didn’t dare turn to look at him in case the pain in her back returned.

  The dragorai’s laughter filled the room. “You believe you can fight me?” The amusement in his tone made her scowl. “You believe that the only reason you haven’t overpowered me is because I’ve used magic?” He walked round to face her. “I knew you were a fireball, but I had no idea you’d also be so stupidly brave to suggest—”

  As he saw her, his face dropped, his expression hardening. He grabbed her neck, pulling her closer so that as she hovered, her face was close to his. I’mya was reminded of just how handsome he actually was. His beard had grown a little, but that only made him look slightly more rugged.

  It couldn’t be right that one man could be so magically skilled, so wealthy, meet all the criteria for a powerful alpha and have such good looks. No wonder he was so unbelievably arrogant.

  He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wetting it with her angry tears, before peering at it. He looked back at her, his voice a low, deep growl. “This does not please me.”

  I’mya’s mouth tightened, anger flaring that he would make such a declaration about her tears when he was the one who caused them. But she refused to say anything.

  His eyes softened on her face, and he was still for a long moment as he examined her. I’mya avoided his gaze and tried not to inhale. His incredible scent overwhelmed her when he was close, but of course, she couldn’t simply stop breathing.

  The dragorai finally spoke, removing his hand from her neck and wrapping a thick arm around her lower half to pull her to his body. “It is easy to forget how delicate you are.” His words came back as an echo.

  I’mya blinked. Was that an apology? Or maybe… regret? Surely not.

  “Even so,” he continued, “you will not weep in my presence again. I forbid it.”

  There it was. That total rage-inducing arrogance. But he wasn’t finished.

  “And since you believe magic provides me an unfair advantage in our… encounters—” He had the audacity to chuckle. “—let us see if you can overpower me without it.”

  Overpower him? That hadn’t been what she’d meant, but if the result was that he stopped torturing her, she wasn’t going to complain. Of course, his intention could be to use other means to torment her. She didn’t trust him to not inflict pain whenever he could—he enjoyed it too much.

  As his scent became irresistible and exhaustion set in, she relaxed in his arms and lay her head on his chest, closing her eyes and breathing in deeply.

  The dragorai stiffened, but said nothing.

  They stayed in that position for so long, that I’mya lost track of time. The drowsy peace of sleep ebbed over her, promising to drag her into a vast depth of tranquility. But just as she was about to succumb to it, she stopped herself. It wasn’t wise to leave herself vulnerable when in the presence of such a monster.

  When she opened her eyes, she found he was still looking at her, the gaze in his eyes strange; part smugness, part curiosity, and a tinge of something else she couldn’t quite determine. She looked away, unprepared for the close examination and the odd twist in her stomach.

  Swallowing, she steadied her nerves and looked back at him. “Am I… dismissed?”

  The dragorai’s face slacked in surprise. He growled, turning swiftly and walking across the room. “You are smarter than I gave you credit for,” he muttered as he sat on the bed.

  He straddled her on his lap, the tops of her feet resting on the bed as she sat on his thick legs. “You are not a kon’aya,” he stated firmly. “I don’t know how you fooled my stewards, but I’m impressed. That is a feat in itself.”

  I’mya’s heart began to race. How did he know?

  “You do not possess the traits of what is typical for one.” He leaned forward, brushing his nose against hers. “I will find out all of your secrets eventually, tiny fireball. I will take great pleasure in discovering everything about you as time permits—and we have plenty of time. But in the meanwhile”—he leaned back slightly—”you will prove your worth on my cock.”

&n
bsp; I’mya stared at him, equally disgusted and terrified about what he just said. He had guessed that she was different and was intent on finding out everything about her—things she didn’t know herself. What if he asked Dayatha to give him information? Dayatha certainly knew things I’mya didn’t, information about her old life that she wouldn’t share. Was it worth trying to persuade the dragorai to help her recall her memories? But even as the thought came to her, she dismissed it. She would never trust him. He was a self-serving dragorai with no reason to help her, and he would likely kill her once he got bored.

  At the thought of the other kon’ayas, I’mya wondered how many had “left” the lair? How often did they recruit and why did they have to? Was it because of previous women hating being in the lair due to the dragorai’s actions? He was clearly a man who enjoyed torture—did he permanently damage or kill the women who didn’t do what he demanded? She made a note to remember to ask one of the other girls. If she couldn’t find a way out, she wasn’t sure she could survive him. The man enjoyed bestowing pleasure and pain as though it was his right.

  As her mind raced, he used one hand to unbuckle and release himself from his pants, and all thoughts fled as I’mya’s eyes landed on his length. Thick, long, and bulbous, it jutted up, a drip of fluid trickling down its tip.

  I’mya glanced up at the dragorai. He looked at her expectantly, as if she was supposed to be doing something, but Dayatha did not prepare her for this. She was only supposed to lie on the table and everything else should be simple.

  I’mya turned to look out of the window at the velvety night sky, but the dragorai grabbed her jaw and dragged her face back to his.

  “I know you don’t understand me or my language yet,” he said slowly. “You will in time. But the first thing you must learn is that when I want to fuck, we fuck.”

  If he didn’t have hold of her jaw, I’mya’s mouth would have dropped open. She expected him to be crude and demanding, but he just revealed he wasn’t aware she could understand him? All this time she had assumed he’d been manipulating the magic in the air so she could understand his speech, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Somehow, his speech was being translated to her without him knowing it.

 

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