Monday, December 28, 2015

Unmasked: Part 12: Respectable Answers

When she stopped convulsing, he slid out of her and off to the side.

Conna stared at the ceiling, breathing heavily. Her body was still throbbing in the aftermath of his assault. She twitched and pulsed with each small movement. She was very conscious of the wetness between her legs. After tugging at the chains a bit, Rodrick finally released her freeing the rings at her wrists from the chain. She sat up a bit to look down at the moisture there. Blood stained the sheets where she lay, more of it seeping out with a white substance she presumed he had left inside her.

She looked over at him. He was lying on his side again, propped up on his elbow. He watched her curiously as if waiting for her to speak. He seemed well-satisfied with himself, relaxed, his trousers slung low on his hips, sated shaft jutting out over the laces. He followed her gaze, noting his half-dressed state and rid himself of the garment. The man was well-sculpted. She assumed, anyway.  He was the only man she had seen in his natural state, but she found him pleasing to look at just the same.

"There is blood on your bed," she said, simply.

It was not the response he had hoped for. She could see it in the crease of his brow and the lines around his eyes. He got up suddenly and went to the fire, where a cauldron of water sat heating. She admired the flexing of his muscles as he lifted it easily from the fire and set it aside.

"There is a chamber pot over there if you would like to use it," he said, pointing. He then busied himself with filling a wash basin with the hot water, giving her some measure of privacy.

She wasn't sure what to make of this experience. Her thoughts were jumbled as she crossed the room to shed the remnants of the act. It wasn't nearly as terrifying as she'd imagined. She had experienced that strange climax twice again. It was hard to know whether it was pleasurable or vaguely traumatic. Should she like her captor? Should she like being used by him in such a way? She should fight this, shouldn't she? Fight him?

When she wandered back over to the bed, he had replaced the linens, removing the evidence of her lost innocence from sight. There was a basin of steaming water sitting on the bed now, a wash cloth handing over the side. She just stood there, staring at the bed, wringing her hands nervously. It was probably stupid to be nervous. She figured he had already done everything there was to be nervous about. He gestured for her to sit, so she lowered herself back to the bed.

Sweeping her braid out of the way, he began washing her back with the warm cloth. "Did you enjoy yourself?" he said, the timbre of his voice tickling her ear as he leaned into her. "At least a little bit? I would prefer it if you did. It is more pleasurable to me if you do."


He frowned. "I'm not a monster...most of the time."

She looked away. "I don't know how I feel yet."

"An honest, respectable answer, so I'll take it." He swiped the cloth over her breast. She shivered. "Your body is much easier to read than your thoughts."

She didn't object as he cleaned the whole of her before tending to himself. She nestled under the covers, pretending not to watch him. The dampness of the cloth  left a sheen on the hard muscles trapped beneath his steely skin. It bothered her that she was so drawn to him. She should hate him on principle, but it was hard to do so when she was so fascinated by just looking at him. As he slid beneath the covers behind her and pulled her to his chest, she realized that she didn't mind this captivity so much. At least this time, she wasn't alone.


She woke to the sensation of a warm, rough hand massaging her breast and teeth nibbling at her throat. Rodrick had wedged a knee between her thighs, opening her to his questing fingers. When he noticed she was awake, he plunged two thick fingers into her. She gasped, as he stroked some maddeningly sensitive place within her. His teeth held fast to the back of her neck and he pinned her to his chest with his arm across hers, His fingers teased and tormented her almost to the point of

When she was upon the brink, he pulled his fingers from her in a dizzying moment of confused frustration. He quickly replaced them with his stiff shaft, filling her completely. She was surprised by the ease of his entry this time. Last nights pain had faded, supplanted by a strange fullness and an oddly delicious friction. They rolled and she found herself pinned to the bed beneath his formidable weight. His hips moved forcefully against her with a wildness that had been absent the night before.

She found herself clawing at the bed linens as he wrapped her hair around his fist. A pressure was growing low in her belly, a pressure that was becoming more familiar to her each time. Somehow, he could sense her need becoming more urgent. His grip tightened on her hair and his hips pumped faster. His fingers slipping beneath her was her undoing. He had barely grazed that swollen bead of flesh and she was tumbling into the abyss. He followed swiftly, growling in that otherworldly way none but a wolf could produce. When her body relaxed around him, he eased out of her, continuing to nip at her skin.

She noted light streaming in through the long narrow windows in the wall that she hadn't noticed the night before. Morning. The day had begun as the previous had ended; in a tangle of bodies and a riot of confusion. She felt the bed shift. Rodrick sat up and made use of the washbasin near the bed. He seemed unaffected by their encounter, but she assumed he engaged in such intimacies often.

Gingerly, she sat up, clutching the blanket to her chest. "How often are you going to...?"

He looked back at her, eyeing her hungrily. "As often as you can handle," he said, tearing the blanket away again.

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked


  1. mmmm I love that she's growing warmer towards him :)

    Rebel xox

  2. This is my darkest fantasies put to paper. Its so freaking hot! I love it!!

  3. I like their dialogue, how he wants her to be pleased and acknowledges her body is easier to read than her thoughts, and that he wants her as often as she can handle.