I am lying here in my hammock. Unease is swirling through me. At first I thought I was anxious because Mal is in a bad mood. But now I’m not so sure. Puzzling out emotions is hard work.
I watch Mal as he jabs at his phone. Oh my. I think I have finally untangled my feelings. Mal is clearly in a bad mood, but for some reason I’m not scared. Not of him. And that’s what is unsettling me, and for good reason. Has something happened to my self preservation? Or am I so beaten down that I no longer care?
He owns me. Controls me. He can take out his rage and do whatever he likes to me. I should be worried. I should be cowering in the corner.
But instead, while I am a little nervous, I’m mainly concerned about him. And that is deeply disconcerting. This man shows me a little kindness and I lose what little sense I had left?
I truly am pathetic.
Mal looks up from his phone and stares straight at me. Eyes boring into my very soul and seeking to read me. It is hard not to flinch from his sudden attention, but I meet his gaze evenly. I have nothing to hide. He knows everything about me.
A long, tense silence stretches. Tension so thick I swear I can taste it on my tongue. I am prey and he is predator and I dare not move a muscle. His confusion, alarm, and dismay is seeping out ofhim. What has happened? What is the root of his feelings? What did I do wrong?
My stomach is twisting. My heart beating too fast. This is awful. I do not like this feeling of having displeased him. I’m not even worried about the consequences. It seems I simply want him to like me.
Suddenly, he stands up and releases me from his intense attention.
“Time to sleep,” he says as he heads towards his bed.
He climbs in and pulls the cover over himself. He is not going to invite me to join him. Disappointment tastes bitter. I could worship his cock and gift him with pleasure. In return, he could give me his seed. We’d both gain. And then he’d be in a better mood.
He sends out a lazy flare of magic to extinguish the light. I watch him in the dark. He is a lump under the blankets. Motionless and sleepless. Ignoring me. I watch and watch. Eventually he sleeps.
But I don’t. I just watch him all night.
Violence and aggression tears my dream apart. It falls in tatters around me until I’m left standing in the naked dark of my subconscious with nothing but the terrifying threat of danger surging around me until I’m drowning in it. I gasp and fight my way to consciousness, but this is no nightmare. This threat is real.
As I wake, I feel Mal’s arms around me. He has joined me in the hammock. Happiness explodes in my heart despite my fear. It has been days since he held me. He has been feeding me, but coldly and functionally. This return to affection is the first since the Grand Master’s visit.
My frantic mind whirls and assesses, despite my soppy emotions. Strangers have breached the wards around the house, we are under attack.
I wail aloud and shudder. The soreness in my throat tells me this is not my first cry. I must have been screaming in my sleep.
“It’s alright, Little One,” rumbles Mal.
His soft lips brush over my wrist. “You are not manacled.” He kisses my throat. “You are not collared.”
I whimper.
“You are free to defend yourself,” he says.
But I’m not strong enough. I never was. I’m certainly not now. I’m nothing. As insubstantial as a shadow.
A red ring of magic fire ignites around the hammock. Mal has set a circle of protection.
“I won’t let anyone hurt you,” he growls.
I turn around to face him. The red fire is reflecting in his dark eyes. The flames are casting flickering shadows over his face. I can taste his determination. His resolution. Mal is going to protect me.
“It’s kelpies. They are trying to get Lello again. You are safe, Gray.”
My mind is too panicked to process that. I’m too overwhelmed by his protection. I close the tiny distance between our lips and kiss him passionately. His soft lips resist me for a moment then he yields and kisses me back with hunger. His beard tickles my face. I like it.
His mouth is hot and wet. His tongue is gentle, yet insistent. He effortlessly leads, like a graceful dancer. I gleefully follow.
I’m wearing my robe. He is gloriously naked. I slide on top of him and glory in the divine feel of his naked skin beneath me. I reach back for his heavy and full cock and line it up with my empty hole. As his blunt cockhead nudges my entrance, my body suddenly recoils. My mind floods with a barrage of memories.
Other men’s cocks breaching me. Men I did not want. Men I did not choose. Horror and shame burn through me. I am on fire with it. I can hear grunts and groans. Cruel words. An echo of the physical pain dances through my flesh as I relive the utterhumiliation of my treacherous body still finding some pleasure in my defeat while my demon nature still laps up the food given.
