Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 42414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 42414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 212(@200wpm)___ 170(@250wpm)___ 141(@300wpm)
He tossed her down on the ground at his feet, knocking the air out of her, but leaving her physically otherwise intact.
Unable to breathe properly, she covered her face with her arms, wanting to save herself from seeing what would happen next. She couldn’t stop him from hurting her, but she didn’t have to participate in it. She could disengage, disassociate, make it so that what happened to her seemed as though it was happening to somebody else.
“Human, you were slow,” the monster declared, speaking her tongue with a heavily accented voice. “You have no chance of escaping me. Not ever.”
Every second he stood over her and gloated was another second she was able to dedicate to getting her breath back. There was no escaping this incredible creature, who, now that she allowed herself to look at him through her fingers, happened to be handsome.
Very handsome.
He had the facial structure of a warrior, a big square jaw and powerful brow. His eyes, which had taken her attention the very first moment she saw them, captured her more completely than any leather or rope might manage. His cheekbones were high and arrogant, and when he looked down at her she felt judged and terrified all at once. She was weak, and pitiful. She was nothing compared to this broad shouldered monster whose shirtless display of musculature and scale sent a shiver to the very core of her.
Somewhere in the distance, a horn sounded. The monster turned his head in the direction of the noise and Iris was up as quickly as she could, her hands still on the ground as she scrambled for the safety of the small tunnel, the one he couldn’t fit into.
The darkness of the tunnel closer around her, just as that clawed hand found her ankle and hauled her back forcefully, dragging her across the forest floor.
“Bad little human,” the regal creature growled. “I had only just finished telling you that you couldn’t run, and look what you tried to do. Are you simple, or so rebellious you cannot obey a single sentence?”
“It wasn’t an order. It was an assumption, and it was wrong.”
She thought better of those words almost immediately, knowing that she was supposed to be begging for her life and cowering before the evil beast who was now stalking her in a slow circle, examining her from every single angle.
“Arrogance,” he murmured. “I will break you of that habit, human.”
He crouched down, running his massive palm over her chest and down between her thighs where he cupped her sex with a possessive touch. It was casual and yet intimate, and it frightened and excited Iris in equal measure. She had never been touched by a man before. None dared make contact of this kind with her.
“I am going to punish you,” the beast told her.
“Why?”
He seemed taken aback by the question, as if he’d never been asked to give a reason for his acts of vile evil. She imagined he hadn’t. He had the appearance of a creature who had been able to rampage across all existence, taking what he wanted and obliterating everything he didn’t. She wondered which category she fell into.
“I am Archon, king of Archeus - and you are my prey, as well as my subject. I am entitled to do with you as I please. I own you. Every part of you.” He emphasized the last part by squeezing with impressive gentleness, making her sex throb in response to the heat and power of his hand.
Everything was chemical. Fear. Lust. Two sides of the same coin, and both driven by similar stimuli.
He was removing her clothing, slashing through it with casual elegance and a blade longer than her entire body, drawn from the scabbard at his waist.
“Lay still,” he said calmly. “I wouldn’t want to bleed you before your time.”
The threat was cool and cruel enough to reach her and make her temporarily obedient. She laid perfectly still as piece by piece, her clothing was removed from her body. First he sliced the seams of her leggings, next the mid-section of her tunic, then with the tip of the blade he began to undress her, peeling the clothing from her body like a fruit.
“You are so small,” he said, his voice heavy with some emotion she couldn’t recognize. Was it pity? Or perhaps disgust?
He had her naked now, her clothing unwrapped so she laid like a present upon the remnants of the leather and furs which had once protected her from the elements.
He stared down at her, examining every part of her with a feral, possessive gaze.
“Beautiful," he murmured. “Every part of you perfectly in proportion, soft and curvy, and utterly without protection. Spread your legs.”
It took her a moment to register the command, coming as it did at the end of a chain of unexpected compliments. The king used his sword to enforce it, pressing the tip of the blade lightly against her inner thigh.