Chapter 57

He drew her in, and Lilitha closed her eyes. It was difficult to move her lips against his.

It was even more challenging to respond to his tongue. It felt slippery and cold, nothing like Damon or Mateus. It was as if she was kissing an eel. She could smell his breath. His grip tightened around the back of her neck as he forcefully mashed his lips against hers.

He pulled away, panting, his eyes dark with passion. He stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “So soft.” Then he began unbuttoning her top. He was hurried, a little frantic. Two of the buttons at the bottom popped off.

Then he was smoothing her top away from her shoulders with his large hands. He ran his hands down her arms as he gazed at her breasts. Then he noticed her necklace.

“What is this?” He threaded it through his fingers.

“Nothing.” She grabbed it. Quickly, she yanked it off before he could examine it too closely and tossed it over the bed. It clattered to the floor.

His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Mandalay,” she whispered in a small, high voice.

His expression softened. He leaned in to nuzzle the nape of her neck.

Lilitha raised her eyes to the ceiling as she struggled to breathe. ~This is for Clara. This is for Clara.~

He gently pushed her onto the bed. He kissed her breasts, lapping lightly at her nipples, before dragging his tongue down her abdomen. Lilitha tried to relax, but her body was as stiff as a board.

Then he pulled back. Lilitha listened to the sound of his undressing, her face turned to the side, unwilling to look. His saliva was cooling on her nipples and belly. She could smell it. She could taste him in her mouth. She wanted to spit. She wanted to throw up.

Her eyes were growing hot ,and she was trying very hard to hold back the tears. He started pulling off her boots, then her skirts. He encouraged her farther back into the bed so that her head was on the pillows.

She continued to stare up at the ceiling in a daze. It was as if she wasn’t really in the room at all. She felt him down below, doing something. She felt his fingers. She thought she felt his tongue, jerking at a sting of pleasure that zapped right up her spine. Again and again it happened until she felt herself moisten.

Then he was on top of her. His face was in her face. His lips were on her lips. He was heavy and huge and seemed to engulf the room. His hair flashed and gleamed against the light. Sweat was beading his forehead. Lilitha grunted as he slid into her.

He whispered into her ear as he thrust, repeating her name over and over again until she hated the sound of his voice, until she hated the sound of her own name. ~Lila~, Damon used to call her.

He was thrusting harder now, his shaft like a burning log inside her. His grunting made him sound like an animal. His teeth were gritted. A large vein bulged in his forehead. Then his eyes rolled back, and with a shudder, a growl, and one last deep thrust, he erupted inside her.

He slumped on top of her, gasping in her ear as he slid his arms around her shoulders. Then he was kissing the nape of her neck. He kissed her mouth. He tried looking into her eyes, but Lilitha’s gaze drifted past his shoulder.

“You haven’t finished,” he said.

“I don’t want—need to,” she quickly corrected.

Her body was hot and throbbing—and she hated that. He’d been gentle. Much more gentle than she’d expected, and she hated that even more.

“Look at me,” he murmured as he reached down between her thighs.

Lilitha did so, meeting his smoldering gaze. He smiled. Lilitha twisted her mouth. She winced as he slid a finger inside her.

She grabbed onto his waist. “Stop. You don’t need to.”

“Relax, Lilitha. Relent. Be mine. You’ll be happier. Besides, I’m not going to stop until you come. I want to know your pleasure.”

A tear trickled down her cheek, which he kissed away. Flopping out her thighs, she let her body take over. Withdrawing his finger, he pulled down over her until his head was above her hips. There, he pressed his mouth against her. A hot wave of pleasure wracked through her body, and she arched her back. He sucked again and again, licking and lapping until she bucked against his face with a cry.

“Good,” he murmured. “Good.”

He pulled over her again so he could kiss her passionately on the mouth. Rolling her onto her side, he tucked her into him, his chest hard against her back, his damp cock pressed up against her buttocks. Holding her, he buried his face into her shoulder.

Lilitha stared across the room, feeling so hollow in her stomach it felt like someone had carved away her insides with a spoon. Even as her body throbbed with heat, her skin prickled with cold sweat. He was stroking her nipple now, pinching it, smoothing it in his hand. Then he cupped it and held his hand there.

Soon, he was breathing evenly and deeply. Lilitha didn’t move, though her mouth trembled and tears were flowing quietly down her cheeks. As bad as his raping her was, the fact that she managed to find pleasure out of it made her want to kill herself. How she ~hated~ herself. She was a whore. A slut. It was like she’d betrayed the clan all over again.

Twice more he “made love” with her during the night. Even as she tried to sleep. Even as she rolled away in protest, he simply rolled her back and pushed his way inside, his face pressed into her shoulder as he thrust into her. All Lilitha could do was stare at the wall, willing him to finish early, hoping it was the last she would have to suffer.

A foolish hope.

Once morning came, Lilitha woke to Mandalay running his hand up and down her side. No longer damp, his shaft was pressing hard against her backside. He started kissing the back of her neck. Reaching down, he spread her thighs a little so he could slide through his penis. He rubbed himself against her labia for a while until she was wet again.

He rolled her onto her back and was on top of her, pinning her to the bed with such force that she could hardly breathe. His hips pressed painfully against hers. Lilitha grabbed onto his waist with a start as he slid inside her too quickly.

Grabbing her face, he stared into her eyes as he thrust hard and fast. She wanted to close her eyes, but Mandalay kept forcing them open. His breath was hot and stinking. His hair hung around her like a curtain, so she couldn’t see anything but him. It was as if nothing else existed. She supposed it was true.

Unlike the previous night, he was quick and careless, finishing selfishly with a groan deep in his throat. He arched his back. His eyes rolled in pleasure. His tongue lolled out like a goddamn dog. He slowed his pounding hips until the last of his throbbing petered away.

“See? Not so bad,” he said.

This time he pulled out of her without worrying about finishing her off, his cock sticking out like an ugly red log.

“I’ve got to go.”

Lilitha watched vaguely, numbly, as he got dressed. He pulled on his tunic, slid on his boots, tossed his hair back. As he belted on his sword, he looked at her meaningfully, his eyes filled with warning.

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he said. “I would suggest you stay here, but if you ~do~ choose to leave—don’t get lost. If you’re not here by sundown, you know what will happen.” He paused, grabbing onto the door frame. “I’m trusting you here, Lilitha. Don’t make me regret it.”

And he left, closing the door shut behind him.

For a long time, Lilitha stared up at the ceiling, her hands folded upon her chest, feeling so numb she felt like she didn’t exist at all.

When she finally sat up, she grimaced at the feel of his cum trickling out between her thighs. There was dried cum and new cum on the sheets. It was everywhere. She pulled away from it in disgust, clutching her knees to her chest. She grabbed at the end of the top sheet and tried to rub herself down. She could smell him everywhere. He was all over her. Inside her. All in her mouth and vagina. It felt like he was in her very skin.

Gagging, she lurched from the bed and searched for where she might find some clean water. The only water Lilitha could get back home in Norfolk was from the neighborhood well. In the forest, it was from the streams and the puddles. But this was Mainstry, and Mandalay was rich.

She found a separate room near the water closet. It took her several tries before she finally discovered how to work the pump. Water spilled into the basin, icy cold. Lilitha didn’t care, scrubbing herself down, using her fingernails until she was red and rubbed raw. She washed her groin so many times it hurt to touch.

Then she stared at her reflection, holding herself, shivering. She looked so different from when she had lived with her father in Norfolk, from the way she had looked in the little creeks and puddles in the forest. Older. Sad. Grim.

Defeated.

Lilitha washed her face and turned away.