Moana
Julia walked into my room, a bright smile on her face, "Here's your lunch, ma'am," I took the tray from her, noticing her excitement, "What's got you so happy?" I asked, curiously making her smile brighter than before, "The Lycan King is practicing right now. You should take a look,"
I shook my head, but her enthusiasm was infectious. She seemed to really want me to see Jericho in action. Curiosity getting the better of me, I climbed onto my bed and peeked out the window. Jericho was indeed practicing, shooting his gun with precision and training some of the pack members.
I watched, mesmerized, wondering what kind of Lycan King needed to use a gun. Wasn't he supposed to be a powerful werewolf?
As I observed Jericho, Julia chimed in, "That's how the Lycan King trains every day," She proclaimed, smiling. I nodded, taking in this new information.
Just then, a knock at the door broke the silence. One of Jericho's guards stood at attention, "The Lycan King requests your presence, ma'am,"
My heart skipped a beat. I thought he said I'd see him tonight. What changed? But, I nodded, trying to compose myself, "I'll come with you,"
The guard led me out of my room, and I followed him, wondering what Jericho wanted from me now. After we got there, he left us alone. Jericho didn't even spare me a glance as if I didn't exist, he focused solely on his target practice.
I watched, frozen, as he aimed his gun and fired. My heart skipped a beat as the bullet whizzed past me, hitting the wall behind. Jericho finally turned to me, putting an unreasonable look, "Pick a gun," He ordered, calmly.
My eyes widened in alarm, "How can I when I'm shaking just looking at it?" I stuttered. His gaze narrowed, as he picked up a bullet. After what felt like an eternity, he yelled, "Pick one, now," I reluctantly picked up a gun, my hands trembling uncontrollably.
His presence loomed behind me, and his chest pressing against my back. It was intoxicating, and for a moment, I forgot how much I hated him. He grasped my hand, intertwining fingers with mine, "Look forward. This is for your protection,"
Protection?
I felt a surge of determination. With Jericho's guidance, I slowly squeezed the trigger, and the bullet hit the dashboard. I felt a rush of pride. I did it! Jericho repeated the process several times, but soon, I began to feel dizzy. He quickly noticed and grabbed me, steadying me.
"I've always known you were weak," He muttered, stingingly. I looked down, disappointment washing over me. I tried to leave, but my legs gave out beneath me, and I found myself back on his broad chest.
I felt too weak to stand, and I admitted it to Jericho, not caring about his hurtful words, "I'm too weak to stand," I mumbled, weakly in the embrace.
Jericho beckoned a guard, who assisted me back to my room, leaving me feeling defeated and vulnerable.
~•~~
As night fell, I made my way to Jericho's room, my heart heavy with trepidation. He was standing with his back to me, but as I began to undress, he turned around, roaming his eyes on my naked body.
"Stop," He ordered, firmly. I froze, unsure of what to do next. Jericho walked closer to me, "Turn around," He commanded.
I obeyed, turning my back to him. Suddenly, he thrust into me, and I screamed in pain. Jericho continued, the movements was rough and unyielding. I felt my voice hoarse from screaming, but he didn't stop until he released inside me.
Afterwards, he pushed me onto the bed and handcuffed my wrists. I felt a surge of fear as he bent over me, shoving his tongue deep into my pussy.
I moaned in pain, my body still sore from the intimacy four days ago. This hurt even more than when I lost my virginity to him.
His actions were merciless, and I felt like I was at his mercy, unable to escape the pain and humiliation.
Few minutes later, the relentless thrusts finally subsided, and he pulled out of me. I quickly covered my body with the blanket, feeling too weak to stand up. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I wondered what kind of life I was living.
Jericho turned to me, buttoning up his shirt. He seemed to expect me to leave, but I remained where I was, unable to muster the strength to move. He ignored me and headed to the bathroom.
When he returned, I was struggling to stand, "Sit down. Have you ever worked somewhere before?" He asked.
I nodded, wiping away my tears, "I worked as a librarian, but I didn't stay long,"
I didn't reveal the painful truth that my boss had deemed me too plus-size, claiming I irritated the customers.
Jericho raised an eyebrow, "Would you like to continue working as a librarian?" I hesitated, unsure of how to respond, "Not anymore, but I still want to,"
"You'll get your job back," He concluded after some time of total silence.
A spark of happiness ignited within me, but it was quickly extinguished by the realization that I was still his slave. Why would he want me to work when I was bound to him?
However, he didn't elaborate, and instead, he turned to leave. I was left alone, my mind wandering to what the next day might bring. As I drifted off to sleep on his bed, I realized I was too weak to return to my own room.
His scent, still lingering on me, was strangely comforting, and I didn't want to leave his room.