Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

H elheim

Aria

What did he want?

The Dark King stood in the doorway, his presence more imposing than ever. His eyes were colder, harder, almost as if a storm was brewing behind those brilliant violet irises and it was about to break at any given moment. A chill ran down my spine as he stepped into the room, the door closing behind him with a loud click.

Before I could do or say anything at all, he crossed the space between us in two swift strides. His grip was like iron as he seized my wrist, yanking me toward the bed. Panic flared in my chest, but I bit down on my fear, refusing to let him see me break.

"What are you doing? Release me!" I demanded, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound strong.

He said nothing, his expression a mask of cold fury. He shoved me onto the bed on my back, the force of it knocking the breath from my lungs. I tried to scramble away, but his hand clamped down on my ankle, dragging me back. I struggled, kicking out at him, but his grip was unyielding, and I couldn't break free.

With a swift, practiced motion, he clapped the iron cuffs around both of my wrists, securing them to the headboard. I tugged at the restraints, but it was futile. The metal bit into my skin, cold and unrelenting. I wasn't going to escape whatever was about to happen next.

"Stop," I gasped, trying to pull free. "What are you doing?"

He finally spoke, his voice icy and devoid of emotion. "You need to learn your place. I will not tolerate defiance. You will give me your name."

I glared up at him.

"You can't do this," I spat.

He leaned in close, his breath hot against my ear and I shivered.

"You don't have a choice, little thief. I am your king. You will learn to obey me."

His words sent a shiver of terror through me, but I refused to look away. Was this it? Was he going to rape me now? Punish me with his cock for refusing to give him my name?

I met his gaze, my defiance burning bright despite the fear that threatened to consume me. His fingers dug into my jaw, his grip bruising. His voice was a dangerous growl, a low, rumbling purr that echoed through the room.

The Dark King leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear.

"Now, are you going to tell me your name or am I going to have to punish you first?"

"Do your worst, my king ," I spat, relying on a building sense of bravery, or maybe even foolishness, to spur me on.

"Gladly, little thief," he grinned, and the look on his face made my blood run icy cold. My heart raced, fear and arousal churning inside me as he climbed onto the bed beside me. I pulled at the chain, yanking my wrist, but I knew there would be no breaking free. He had me exactly where he wanted me.

His fingers trailed along my jaw, his touch feather-light, sending trails of fire straight down to my core. I couldn't make myself understand why my body was so reactive to him, why he had such an effect on me, and I gritted my teeth, fighting against it with everything that I had.

He gripped my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. His eyes were darker than usual, the violet hue deepening into a rich indigo, the storm behind them swirling with dangerous intent. They searched mine, looking for something of the likes of which I didn't know.

"You're going to give me your name," he growled.

"I won't," I snapped back.

I wouldn't give him what he wanted.

Not like this.

The king released my jaw, and I sucked in a breath. The cold fury in his gaze was terrifying, but the fire behind it, the heat of it, was intoxicating. I tried to swallow back my own arousal, but it was already simmering well past my control.

He leaned over me, running his fingers along the neckline of my dress. His touch just grazed my skin and I shivered, biting my lip as his fingertips curled beneath the fabric.

"Don't," I whispered, but that didn't stop him from yanking his hands apart and tearing the fabric right down the center of the garment.

My breasts spilled out, and I flushed with shame and embarrassment, but the fire of arousal was already licking at my insides, and I very nearly cursed aloud at the traitorous state of my own body.

I couldn't like this.

I shouldn't.

He continued down the front, destroying the gown one stitch at a time. My chest rose and fell, and the cold air made my nipples pebble, but that was the only reaction I allowed him to see.

The Dark King leaned down, his breath hot against my ear, his body looming over me.

"Release me," I demanded.

"No," he whispered, his voice hoarse and dark and all things cruel.

I gulped and he watched me closely before he leaned in and nibbled on my ear. I shuddered, my eyes fluttering shut. I couldn't stop the moan that escaped my lips, and the sound seemed to satisfy him. He smiled and I wanted to hit him, to strike him with everything I had, but I held still.

Even as he tore my dress the rest of the way down the front.

Even as he exposed the full expanse of my body to his view.

Even as he moved his head down and flicked his tongue out, tracing the curve of my breast with agonizing slowness.

I didn't move.

I didn't even breathe.

And when he closed his lips around the peak of my nipple and sucked, my mouth opened, and a small gasp escaped me before I could stop it.

"What are you doing?" I squeaked.

"You belong to me, little thief. In all ways," he murmured, his teeth scraping against the tight little bud and making me arch clean off the bed as fireworks shot down straight to my core. I could do nothing as he kissed and suckled my nipples. My blood boiled with desire, and I couldn't do anything other than lie there and take it.

He isn't hurting you, at least.

Memories of the spanking over his knee surfaced and I blushed, momentarily reminded of the slight soreness in my bottom cheeks as I lay against the bed.

I hated him.

I loathed him.

And yet, my body betrayed me. My pussy was wet, drenched from his attentions and from the knowledge that he could do anything he wanted with me, and I couldn't do a thing to stop it.

I closed my eyes, trying to will myself into another world or another memory, but his mouth closed over my nipple while his fingers toyed with the other side, driving fiery sensation through me again and again despite everything I was trying to do to stop it.

He continued his journey down my body, his lips and tongue torturing me until I was practically writhing beneath him, my breathing ragged and uneven. Then, without warning, he stopped.

My eyes flew open, and I stared up at him, my chest heaving.

Then, he returned his mouth to my breasts, caressing and kissing them until my nipples were harder than diamonds. Each tight bud was on fire, pleasure radiating outside and sinking straight into my core, and I didn't want to do anything to let him know how much of an effect he was having on me, but I knew soon it would be out of my control.

He didn't stop, not until I was practically shaking beneath him.

My breasts became more and more sensitive, and the longer this went on the wetter I became. There was no denying it. I could feel it dripping down each inner thigh, one drop after another and he hadn't even turned his attention there yet.

He pulled back, his gaze locked onto mine, gleaming with some sort of wicked satisfaction, and I rolled my upper lip at him.

"I'm not afraid of you," I spat.

"Oh, my sweet girl, you should be," he replied.

The words were meant to terrify me.

Instead, they sent a wave of heat through my veins.

He chuckled and moved down lower, his mouth trailing hot, wet kisses down the center of my torso, his tongue swirling around my belly button. Then he continued downward until his mouth just grazed over the top of my slit. I stiffened and he glanced up at me, catching my gaze. A cocky grin split his face and his eyes wrinkled around the edges with amusement.

He was enjoying this…

And the longer it went on, the more I knew I was going to lose control.

I yanked on the restraints, the chain rattling loudly. The Dark King moved back, his gaze roaming down the length of me. I felt bare, exposed, vulnerable in a way I had never been before, and when his mouth descended between my thighs, it grew even worse. Laced with shame, my arousal swept through me like an unexpected summer storm, hot and wet and all too consuming.

His tongue flicked out, the tip sliding between the seam of my lower lips, and I gasped.

He didn't stop there. I wanted him to, but he didn't.

With an agonizing slowness, he licked me from one end of my slit to the other, his tongue parting the delicate folds and sending a surge of pleasure straight to my center.

I tried to hold it back, but a soft moan slipped past my lips, and he grinned against me.

Then he did it again.

And again.

I clamped my lips shut, telling myself that I wouldn't let him get to me, that I would stay strong, but with each gentle lap of his tongue against my clit, I could feel myself slipping away bit by bit.

The Dark King didn't let up.

He continued his assault, teasing and tasting me, his tongue moving faster, the pressure building and soon, my body was quivering with the exertion of holding my pleasure deep inside where he couldn't see or feel it.

I was fighting a losing battle and I knew it.

My breathing grew ragged, and I could feel the familiar tingle of an impending orgasm, but I couldn't allow myself to give in.

I wouldn't let him win, but then he did something I didn't expect.

He pulled away and I used the opportunity to gather myself, to try to push the pleasure away. I succeeded for a single moment, at least until his mouth descended on my pussy once again.

The wet warmth of his tongue slid against my clit, hot and heavy and far too tantalizing.

He groaned, and the vibrations of the sound went straight through me, pushing me closer to the edge.

I tried to resist, but the pleasure was too much.

I could feel it rising within me, threatening to overwhelm me, but then he pulled away again and the piercing cut of denial tore through me before I was ready for it.

He brought me to the edge once again, using his tongue to drive me wild. Pleasure sizzled through my veins, and I curled my toes, thrashing this way and that as I tried to fight the rising tide of desire. Just when I teetered at the edge of a climax, he pulled back, and the hot slice of denial cut through me once again.

It was maddening.

It was pure torture.

Again and again, he pushed me closer and closer, only to pull back at the last second.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry.

"Please stop," I begged.

"You may come for me only after you tell me your name," he demanded.

I shook my head, refusing to give in, and he chuckled. Then his mouth descended upon my clit once more. He sucked it hard and fast and with a roughness I had been missing all this time.

I thought he was going to allow me to come, but just when I felt ready to shatter, he pulled away and the flats of his fingers came down on my pussy.

He spanked it, several times, hard and fast. The sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure-pain straight to my clit and I cried out, bucking and thrashing beneath him. My eyes flew open, and I stared down the length of my body almost in disbelief.

He'd spanked my pussy.

With one hand pressed against my belly, he easily held me in place as he punished me once more. He smacked it over and over again, the searing burn of his fingers sizzling into my flesh. I whimpered, blazing agony tearing through me, and I tried to wriggle my way free, but there was no escaping this.

I was at his mercy and as much as I wanted to keep fighting this, I knew I couldn't take much more.

When he leaned back down and swiped his tongue across my clit, the contrast was nearly too much to bear. Pleasure the likes of which I'd never known spiraled through me and just when I thought I was going to come again, he took his mouth away and I cried out, the cruel cut of agony swiping through me once more.

He alternated between spanking my pussy and licking and sucking it until I was a writhing mess.

I tried not to beg. I failed.

I tried not to moan. I failed at that too.

"Please, please," I pleaded. I yanked against the cuffs, yearning to hold his head between my thighs and make him let me come, but they didn't give. I couldn't break free.

He didn't answer, but somewhere deep inside, I knew he wasn't going to. Instead, he continued his onslaught, pushing me higher and higher until I was right there.

One more lick.

One more flick of his tongue against my clit.

I just needed a little bit more to break apart, but he wasn't giving me that. He could have been using magic to prevent me from coming. I didn't know.

"Who am I?" he asked.

"A cruel bastard," I spat, and he chuckled, clearly amused, before he swept back down and teased my clit once again. Every nerve in my body was set to fire at any given second. I was so on the edge that everything hurt and there was nothing I could do to make it better.

He kept going, kept teasing me, and my eyes began to water. Raw desperation pumped through my veins.

"Oh, gods," I moaned.

"No. Your king ," he corrected, and a heated flush swept over my cheeks.

"You're not my king," I protested, but it sounded weak even to my own ears.

He laughed, a dark, dangerous sound. He sucked my clit hard and fast, his tongue pressing against the bud until I couldn't stand it any longer and when he inevitably pulled away, I thought I was prepared for the fierce cut of agony that pierced through me.

I wasn't.

Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked, trying to hold them back, but this was another form of torture far different than I had ever imagined. I didn't know how much more of it I could take.

But he didn't give me a choice.

He continued his relentless assault, pushing me closer and closer to the brink, but never letting me come.

Desire surged within me, an all-consuming force that built and built, growing stronger with each passing moment. It was an agonizing torture, a relentless fire that burned through my veins, searing my very soul from the inside out.

Every flick of his tongue drove me insane, twisting my insides and leaving me aching with need. The intensity of it was maddening, leaving me gasping for relief that wouldn't come. Tears poured down my cheeks, a raw sensation desperate to break free and I started to sob.

"Please, please have mercy," I begged. The Dark King ignored me.

His tongue continued its onslaught, bringing me closer and closer to the brink before pulling away, over and over again until I was delirious with need.

"Please, I'll tell you my name. Just please let me come," I pleaded. I was shaking now, desperate and needy and too overcome with pleasure to think straight anymore.

Why was I fighting? Why was I so set on not giving him my name? It seemed like such a simple exchange.

He'd said he'd let me come if only I gave him my name and that was the only thing I could focus on in that moment.

He laughed and the dark, cruel sound sent a chill down my spine. Then he returned his mouth to my clit, licking and sucking, and that's when I truly understood what he was doing.

He could have taken me over his knee again, could have thrashed me with his hand or his belt or something else, but right now, he was punishing me with pleasure, and it was more intense than I could ever have imagined.

It was agony. It was ecstasy.

It was pure torture.

With each sweep of his tongue, he brought me closer and closer to the edge, but never quite letting me fall.

"Pl-please. Let me tell you my name, my king ," I pleaded, my desperation clear with every shaking syllable that fell off my lips.

"There now, was that so hard?" he asked, and I drew in a ragged breath as I tried to calm the frantic beat of my heart.

My body shook with one searing flash of pain after the next. My clit was throbbing in rhythm with my heartbeat, hard and fast, and I pressed my thighs together as much as I was able. With him between my legs, the insides of my knees pressed against his shoulders.

"You'll let me come?" I whimpered.

"If you tell me your name," he said gently, trailing his fingers up and down my inner thigh and driving me crazy with need.

"It's… it's Aria Nightingale," I whispered, each word slipping free from me as if he was pulling them from my lips himself.

"Aria, such a pretty name, my little thief," he replied, and a sense of raw shame spiraled through me.

I'd lost the battle. He'd won.

But then he returned his attention to my clit, and the loss, my shame, and everything else faded away.

With each languid stroke of his tongue, I could feel the pressure building back up within me, a sweet, agonizing ache that threatened to tear me apart.

It didn't take long for me to sail to the edge, and I flinched, waiting for him to pull back, but he didn't. Instead, he let me fly right off the cliff into a freefall of pleasure the likes of which I'd never known.

The world shattered around me, splintering into a million glittering pieces as the wave of pure, unadulterated pleasure crashed through me. I cried out as agonizing ecstasy surged through me, pulling me out with the tide and drowning me under its embrace.

I gasped, my back arching as the orgasm slammed into me with an intensity that left me reeling. The pleasure was so acute, so intense it was almost painful, and I screamed, my body trembling uncontrollably.

He didn't relent.

Instead, his tongue continued to assault my poor clit and my climax burned on and on, searing through me with wild abandon. My toes curled and my hands tightened into tiny fists. My nails dug into my palms, but the pain only added to the pleasure and made it all the more intense.

If I had been standing, it would have swept me off my feet.

It was overwhelming, all-consuming, a force of nature that tore through me and left nothing in its wake, and when it finally began to quell, I was left shaking and panting for air. I gasped, my chest heaving, as the last vestiges of pleasure drifted away, leaving me sated and spent.

The Dark King rose from between my legs, his gaze burning into mine.

I'd given in. I'd lost the fight. Now he knew my name and I couldn't take it back.

What had I done?

Tears welled in my eyes, slipping down my cheeks as I came down from my high. My body trembled, exhaustion pulling at me, but I forced myself to keep my gaze level with his.

The king smirked, his eyes glittering with smug satisfaction. He reached out, trailing his fingers down the side of my face, and I flinched away.

The movement only seemed to amuse him, and he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a chill down my spine.

He may have won this battle, but I wouldn't let him win the war.