Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 163(@200wpm)___ 130(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
“So beautiful and elegant when you smile, my highness,” he said as he used the leather belt to brush loose strands of my black hair away from my reddened breasts. “Let us see how pretty that smile is drenched in your tears.”
The leather came crashing down upon my breast again, licking my nipple with its painful bite. He repeated the action again on the other breast, and then again, and again, and again.
My body flinched, though my soul did not.
I stared down at my red and raw flesh and examined his work with morbid curiosity. The fiery pain was so foreign to me that I almost felt detached from this outer shell of mine.
An unexpected gasp laced with a hint of a moan released from my lips when Troylus returned his attack to my pussy, which still quivered from the lashing only a short time ago. The sound of leather connecting with vulnerable flesh echoed through the torture chamber.
The only other sound was me.
I couldn’t help it.
No matter how strong I tried to be, and how much I fought not to utter even the slightest sound of discomfort, the gasps and even hisses of pain emerged. Damn Troylus to hell for causing me to act like a mere mortal female.
Following a more severe lash, Troylus said with a devilish smirk, “Ah, there are the moans I was waiting for.” He brought the leather strip to my nose. I could see the wet marks from my juices. “Smell your arousal, my queen.”
When I turned my head to the side, refusing to do as he asked, he snapped the leather against my pussy again. This time, the surprising sting had me crying out.
“Oh yes, those are the sounds I have being wanting. The smell of your cunt, the sound of your cries…far more enchanting than any evil spell you could cast on me.”
Closing my eyes and trying to steady my breathing, I did everything I could to try to not focus on the throbbing in my pussy. The pounding inside my sex was like the drumbeat of an approaching army announcing a war was about to commence. I was truly at war. At war with my own body.
Troylus took hold of my face and squeezed my cheeks firmly. “Look at me, Queen.” He squeezed tighter until I fluttered my eyelids open and stared into his deep emerald eyes. “Are you ready to tell me where you cast the poor princess’ body?”
I jerked my face from his grasp and then narrowed my eyes as I said, “Is that truly the best you’ve got?”
Rather than seeing fury in Troylus’ face as I expected, I saw amusement. “Oh, my queen, we are just beginning. I told you that I plan to hear screams mixed with your moans. I won’t stop until I do.”
Dropping the leather strap, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. Circling behind me, he unfastened the shackles of my wrists. I brought them forward and began massaging them to regain proper blood circulation. I was tempted to try to conceal my nudity now that I had my hands and arms free to do so but decided against it. It would reveal that Troylus had succeeded in casting a sense of humiliation into this torture session. Troylus then knelt and unfastened the chains around my ankles as well. The man had said he wasn’t finished with his torture, yet he was freeing me.
He then picked up my naked body as if I weighed nothing and cradled me as a mother would cradle an infant. The hold was tender, though by the clench of his jaw and the storm brewing behind the green in his eyes, I knew the moment of closeness against the warmth of his chest would be fleeting. My assumption was correct when Troylus sat me on the cold wooden table, pressed his calloused hands on my tender breasts, and pushed me back so I was forced to lie down. My legs dangled over the edge of the table, and I had never felt so defenseless before in my life as my captor spread my legs and towered over my prone body.
Not sure if now was the time to fight back or not, I tried to clear my head from the cloud of confusion caused by all of Troylus’ so-called torture. I had to be smart and tactical. Not a fool and rush to attack like a mere mortal would do. No, I may have had my power suffocated by the purple haze, but my intelligence and mastery of the art of war was still very much breathing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the dagger that Troylus had used to slice through my clothing. It was so close. So close. With one quick reach of my hand, I could have the dagger plunged in the man’s jugular before he even saw it coming.