“It was a show of force. This whole thing rests on people respecting him, obeying him without a single deviation. There was no way he could have just let it slide,” Josh pointed out. “Not to mention, we all wanted him to bust their asses. I can guarantee you, none of them will ever dare as much as sneeze at night ever again.”
“Maybe, but it was also a really smooth way to put public beatings on his power trip menu of threats so that it can hang over anyone who’d dare oppose him.”
The entire hall was beginning to buzz with hushed conversation.
“Any other takers among the accused?” Einar asked firmly over the rising murmur, his eyes scanning the room and lingering threateningly on the other offenders. “Because if not, then the time to leave the hall would be now.”
Unsurprisingly, the six young people shot out from their seats so fast that their chairs may have been on fire and dashed through the main door.
Einar fastened his belt with a sharp tug at the strap before walking back to take his place at the centre of the head table. I didn’t know what it was in the gesture that made me nearly moan.
It was something about the fact that in a few short hours, the same hand would gently trace my bare skin. That it would give me pleasure rivalling in its intensity the punishment we had just witnessed. Or perhaps it was that everyone knew of its destructive power, but I alone was privy to the tenderness it was just as capable of, and that private knowledge made me feel more privileged than I ever had.
16
ETERNALLY DAMNED
Afew nights later, I stretched luxuriously on the square beige sofa in Einar’s living room, feeling my skin extend over my ribs. The sofa may not have been the most comfortable piece of furniture to sit on, but due to its width, it had proved more than sufficient for lying down. As well as for engaging in all sorts of activities while in a horizontal position. I took a deep breath, the fabric coarse under my bare back. The perspiration on my naked form had begun to cool down, and I shivered, erupting in goosebumps.
It was almost dark in the room, the only light provided by a few candles.
Einar sat on the ground beside me, his face level with mine. Noting that I was cold, he made to cover me.
“No, not yet,” I declined. “I like the chill sometimes.”
In the sparse light, his body looked firm and sculpted, the lines between the muscles on his torso like darker valleys made by a painter’s brush.
“Alright.” He set the tartan-patterned blanket aside. “But I have to warn you, lie here like this for a bit longer and my cock is going right back inside you and I don’t care how sore you’ll be tomorrow.”
I wouldn’t have cared either, but I didn’t give voice to the thought.
“Oh?” I smiled at him instead, rolled over to my belly and bending my knees, lifted my crossed feet up behind me. “What if I lie like this then? Is that a safer option?”
He chuckled, the sound a carnivorous grumble coming from deep within his chest.
“On the contrary, my girl. Now you’re just asking for trouble.”
He leaned over, tracing my lower spine with his fingertips. His breath was warm on my skin as his teeth closed around my flesh firmly, but without inflicting any pain.
Bite me harder, I thought as my head swam with revived lust,and you’ll be the one asking for trouble.
My nocturnal activities with Einar were the only part of my life during that time that wasn’t routine, and their excitement was all the more accentuated for the invariable order of the days that preceded them. No two nights were the same. I had moved my things into his apartment and not only was there barely an inch of space that we hadn’t defiled yet, but there were also a fair few spots in the surrounding nature that we visited for similar purposes.
The danger of being caught was all the more thrilling for the additional risk of being attacked by stray roamers, a risk that Einar seemed to enjoy as much as I did. But even though I always brought my bow, I had never needed to use it yet.
“Another one?” Einar asked, indicating my empty wine glass and lifting the bottle to refill it.
“Will you have one with me?”
“Nah.” He shook his head resolutely; he always drank very modestly.
“Then no. How could I possibly indulge when you are so frugal?”
He made a sound at the back of his throat, suddenly looking discomposed.
“I’m not being frugal,” he said, setting the bottle down. “Drink brings out the worst in me. It got me into all sorts of fights. Most of them I won, though not without souvenirs to take away from them.” He indicated the slightly crooked bridge of his nose. “I caused a lot of trouble like that when I was younger.”
“It’s lucky you’re such a brute. Or there may have been more of those souvenirs,” I told him lightly, nonchalantly, even though the tremor in his voice and the unrest in his eyes showed that he had wanted to tell me more and was hesitant to do so at the same time.
