Rudra's grip on Mahnoor tightened as she sat in his lap, his powerful hands gripping her thighs and waist with possessive force. His muscles were taut beneath her, his breath hissing through clenched teeth as his frustration mounted. Mahnoor, undeterred by his intimidating presence, stared into his eyes, her own gaze fierce, unwavering.
"I'm not your slave, Rudra," she said firmly, her voice laced with defiance, even as her body was trapped against his. She could feel the tension in him, the raw power that surged through his veins like venom. But Mahnoor was not one to cower, not even in the face of a serpent prince.
Rudra's response was immediate, his voice low and dripping with danger. "Oh yes, but you are," he hissed, his words vibrating with a menacing promise. His hand moved up, gripping her breast with a deliberate, almost cruel tightness. "You're mine, Mahnoor, and I'll have you in my bed whenever I will."
His fingers dug into her flesh, making her wince slightly, but she held his gaze, refusing to be cowed by his dominance. She could feel the power he wielded, but she also knew she had her own strength—one he was slowly beginning to recognize, whether he liked it or not.
Her lips parted slightly, her breath coming quicker, but her mind was sharp. As much as his possessiveness unnerved her, she wasn't afraid to push back. "Just so you know," she began, her voice edged with cold pragmatism, "you've been ejaculating inside me. What creature will be born from this, Rudra?"
For a moment, her question caught him off guard. He blinked, his grip loosening ever so slightly as his mind reeled at her words. The amusement in his eyes flickered, replaced by a momentary confusion. But he quickly recovered, his lips curling into a dark, almost smug smile.
"Full breeds and half breeds," he answered, his voice a growl. He leaned in closer, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered. "You'll bear my children, Mahnoor. Whether they are full serpent or half human, they will all carry my bloodline. Royal blood."
Mahnoor's expression remained neutral, but her mind was already working through the implications. Full breeds and half breeds? she thought. What did that mean for her? Was she to become nothing more than a vessel for his offspring? She knew there were risks involved in being tied to a creature like him, but this was a new level of uncertainty.
She lifted her head, meeting his gaze with a cold, calculated stare. "And will you treat me the same," she asked slowly, "when I become the mother of your many children, apparently?"
Her question seemed to throw him off balance again. For all his power, for all his dominance, there was a complexity in her words that unsettled him. His world was driven by primal instincts—power, dominance, lust. But Mahnoor was introducing something else into the equation: logic. And not just any logic, but the kind of logic that came from understanding life, consequences, and the future in ways that went beyond the immediate satisfaction of desires.
"Why are you talking like this?" he asked, his voice uncertain now, a flicker of frustration lacing his tone.
Mahnoor smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Because I'm a woman," she said matter-of-factly, "and unlike you men, driven by your sex hormones, we women think practically."
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He growled in response, his fingers flexing against her skin as his anger threatened to boil over. She wasn't afraid of him—no, worse, she was challenging him in ways no one else had before. She was making him think, making him question his own actions, and it infuriated him.
"You'll be whatever I need you to be," he snapped, trying to reassert control over the situation. But even as he spoke, the doubt crept in. Could he truly treat her the same, knowing she might one day bear his children? His mind, always so focused on power and lust, was suddenly filled with images of something else entirely—of her swollen with his offspring, of tiny, slithering serpents or half-human children that carried his lineage.
Mahnoor could sense his hesitation, and it only fueled her further. She leaned in, her voice softer now, but no less fierce. "You think you can control everything, Rudra. But life... life isn't something you can just dominate. Not forever. There are consequences."
He growled again, frustrated by her words, by the way she managed to unsettle him so effortlessly. "You talk too much, woman," he snarled, his hand tightening around her again as if trying to reclaim his dominance through sheer physical force. "You should be grateful I'm letting you live."
Mahnoor's eyes glinted with defiance. "Grateful?" she echoed, her voice sharp. "For what? Being your breeding vessel? Your... slave?" Her words dripped with disdain, her mind racing as she began to see her own role in this strange, twisted union more clearly.
For a moment, Rudra didn't respond. His grip on her softened, his gaze narrowing as he studied her. There was something about her—something more than just her body, more than just her human audacity—that kept pulling him in, kept making him reconsider his own intentions.
"You're not like other humans," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "You're different."
Mahnoor raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a smirk. "You're just figuring that out now?"
He growled low in his throat, but there was something almost playful in the sound. She had a way of getting under his skin, of pushing him in ways no one else dared to. And, frustratingly enough, he found himself liking it.
"You think too much," he said finally, his voice softening, though the edge of his possessiveness remained. "But you're still mine, Mahnoor. Don't forget that."
Mahnoor leaned back slightly, her eyes still locked onto his, challenging him with every breath. "We'll see about that," she said, her voice low and dangerous. "But for now, I'll let you think you're in control, Rud baby."
The nickname, spoken with such casual confidence, made him bristle, but he didn't respond. Instead, he tightened his grip on her once more, pulling her closer as his lips found hers, hard and demanding. Mahnoor responded in kind, her fingers tangling in his hair as the tension between them erupted into something raw and electric.
But even as their bodies pressed together, both of them knew that this battle was far from over. The war between them was just beginning—one of dominance, control, and a dangerous attraction that threatened to consume them both.