x
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You softly groan while cradling your forehead in your hand, eyes quivering open. The space you find yourself in is dimly lit, save for a faint glow in the corner. Sitting up, you release a small wheeze of pain, faintly noticing the bruises of different shades covering your body. The gravel beneath you digs into your palm, leaving painful indentations on your skin.
As you struggle to stand up, the world around you spins and bounces, disorienting your vision. The air carries a slight chill, and it delicately brushes against your skin, causing goosebumps to rise in a welcoming embrace. A tremor courses through your body, and you can almost swear that you feel your bones vibrating beneath your flesh. Seeking comfort, you wrap your arms around your abdomen and pivot to examine the enclosure. It suddenly dawns on you that there is an eerie silence, with only the sound of your labored breaths and the gentle trickle of water from the pipes on the wall, echoing softly in your ears.
With a deep breath, you move towards a thick, rusty, metal door; heart thundering in your ribcage. Unwinding your arm from your midsection, you form a fist and tap on the door, feeling a flutter of nerves in your stomach. The silence is deafening for a moment, only broken by the sound of dripping water growing louder until a knock responds from the other side.
Your body jerks back in surprise, a sharp gasp escaping your lips. Your heart races, thumping rapidly, as if it wants to burst out of your chest. Then, there’s another knock, this time with a bit more force. The door’s thickness muffles the sound, but a faint hello manages to catch your attention. Cautiously, you move forward, your knuckles gently tapping on the door. In reply, a quick knock reverberates through the air.
“Hello? Can you hear me?”
A barely audible yes reaches your ears, prompting a sigh of relief to escape your lips. Collapsing to your knees, you lean against the door, the jagged rocks cutting into your flesh. You gnaw gently at your bottom lip, bones aching and protesting.
“Do you know where we are?”
No.
Disappointment surges through your veins and you inhale deeply, taking in the smell of mold and damp concrete; it makes your stomach churn and you once again wrap your arms around your midsection. You wait in silence until the voice speaks once more.
"What’s your name?”
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Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. “What about you?” The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets breaking the quiet. Doubt creeps in as you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your body.
"Ulysses”
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The lack of a last name doesn’t bother you. The room’s silence seeps into your thoughts, leaving you restless, and anxious. The chilling grip of fear tightens around your heart, making you wonder if your family is searching for you. Have they reported you missing? Were you going to die? The thought of death at such a young age, having recently turned twenty-four, is unbearable. Just as despair takes hold, a deep and comforting voice breaks through, providing a much-needed sense of relief.
"You’re thinking too much, calm down.”
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Your breath escapes in a deep shudder as you lean against the door, the sharp metal flakes digging into your skin. You wanted to― needed to feel some sense of connection, of not being alone in this moment of panic. How did he sense your impending breakdown? The question lingers, but you push it aside. You do as told.
His voice is a balm, offering both comfort and an unfamiliar sense of security. The flickering light on your left momentarily distracts you, as a shadow flits by and disappears. Intrigue fills your mind, prompting you to rise slowly, your legs trembling beneath you.
As you approach the narrow opening, barely taller than yourself, you tiptoe on the edge of your shoe. A surge of anticipation rushes through you as you realize there are people nearby! Students bustle through the corridor, disappearing into what you presume to be classrooms. The sound of footsteps grabs your attention, prompting you to extend your hand through the gap, only to be met by a pale wall. The wall possesses a captivating iridescent hue, a blend of gold and orange, shimmering under your touch. The longer your palm rests on its surface, the more intense the heat becomes. Startled, you swiftly retract your hand, cradling it against your chest, and observe with fascination as the wall gradually fades away, dissolving from your view.
“What the hell?”
Your mind is a whirlwind of confusion, unable to process the events that just unfolded. In the midst of your mental fog, a piercing creaking noise assaults your ears, reminiscent of nails scraping against a chalkboard. To your surprise, the small gap you were standing in front of seemed to be moving farther away. Panic sets in as you realize that you are being transported somewhere. Suddenly, a thunderous pounding on the door shatters the air, accompanied by blood-curdling screams that bear no resemblance to the person who was just speaking to you.
You hobble towards the door, quickly dropping to your knees. “Ulysses? Ulysses!” Determined, you limp towards the door, dropping to your knees in haste. “Ulysses? Ulysses!” you call out desperately, but there is only silence in response. The once familiar sounds of dripping water and the cool breeze from the draft have vanished, replaced by the antiseptic scent of bleach. As you take in your surroundings, you realize that you have been transported to an entirely different room.
As you glance around, your eyes swiftly capture the sight of crimson splatters on the wall and the disarrayed gravel just a few steps from where you stand. The question lingers in your mind: had, Ulysees been in this room? You didn’t want to think about it any longer. The thought becomes unbearable, prompting you to shut your eyes tightly and shield your ears with your hands, trembling against the icy touch of the door’s rust.
Knock
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As your eyes slowly open, you find yourself reluctantly lowering your hands onto your lap. Startled by another knock, a soft stuttering hiccup escapes your body. Filled with apprehension, you clench your fist and knock back, unsure and frightened.Hello? Hello!The voice that responds is higher pitched, a stark contrast to Ulysses’ deep voice just minutes ago.
You casually wipe your nose on your sleeve before pressing your palm against the door. “Who’s there?” The only reply is a prolonged silence, then a soft shushing noise from beyond the door.
They’ll hear you if you’re too loud.
The room falls silent once more before a man finally speaks up.My name is Charles Langston.
A storm of questions rages through your mind, desperately seeking answers. Who will be the one to hear them? What in the name of all that is holy just happened? Were you ever gonna get out of here? Nevertheless, you gather your resolve and take a deep, shuddering breath. “How long have you been here?” Your voice is barely audible as you question him from behind the heavy door.
—
With a soft sigh, Charles rested his head against the rusty door. He couldn’t stand being asked that question because he had lost track of time; it could have been days, weeks, or even months since he arrived. The only certainty he had was that they were under constant surveillance. (Not to mention he had been stuck here for more than 13 cycles.)
Charles wasn’t always alone in this room; there were two others, twins named Riley and Nick. They had stumbled upon a small hatch on the ceiling, and Riley, the brunette had successfully navigated through it. The boys were optimistic that she might uncover an escape route.
They could go home!
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They couldn’t have been more mistaken. It had been mere minutes since she entered, and now they found themselves sitting on the rough gravel floor, their hearts pounding in a frenzy.
Thump, Thump, Thump,Thud.
A warm and moist substance splattered against Charles’s cheek, prompting him to instinctively reach up and feel the liquid. As he pulled his hand away, his wide, terror-filled eyes beheld the scarlet blood staining his fingertips, slowly dripping down to collect in his palm. Casting his silver gaze toward the ground, he found the expression of terror and horror on Riley’s head― now detached from her body― waiting for him and it filled him with revulsion.
Her head had been severed, her body was probably still lodged in the hatch, stuck. Screams echoed in the room, Nick’s screams reverberated in the room as he clutched the head, eyes wide in horror. “No, Riley, please! Riley!”
The room fell into silence as a gentle warmth enveloped his face, seeping down to his neck and abdomen. Nick’s body slumped to the side, his head coming to a rest near Charles’s feet. With a swift motion, the boy muffled his mouth with his hand, smearing the blood across his lips. He stayed quiet, retreating to the corner of the room. They were dead.
"Charles? Are you still here?”
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The boy’s eyes blinked rapidly, a clear sign of his inner turmoil as he vigorously shook his head, desperately trying to shake off the haunting thoughts. “Oh, sorry. I was just lost in my thoughts for a moment. A couple of days at least.” He lied, concealing the gruesome truth that the bodies had already begun to decay while he was still trapped in that room. The putrid stench of death lingered in the air, making it difficult for him to suppress the rising bile in his throat. He knew all too well that it takes around 3-5 days for bodies to enter the decomposition stage. And when he closed his eyes to sleep, they vanished without a trace. Waking up to their absence brought a bittersweet mix of relief and sadness. Now, he found himself completely alone in an unfamiliar place.
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“I don’t know how long I’ve been unconscious, I woke up 30 minutes ago- I’m guessing anyways.”
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Charles despises the silence that envelopes the room as you fall into a momentary recluse. He can’t help but scoff under his breath, reminiscing about the times he used to tell his mom how much he enjoyed the tranquility when his siblings were away. The stillness of the house provided him with the perfect environment to think and focus on his training. However, after being confined here for days on end, with only silence as his constant companion, he has grown to despise it. The quietness that once welcomed his thoughts now feels unwelcoming and suffocating.
"I met someone. . .”
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Beyond the thick door, the person resting acted as a much-needed distraction. Your soothing voice is akin to a slow, calming stream, instilling a feeling of safety and reassurance in him as if he possessed the strength to overcome any obstacle. A soft hum escaped his lips, his tired eyes fluttering with fatigue. After the twins vanished from the room, it was difficult for him to sleep.
“His name was Ulysses, after the room switched, I couldn’t hear him anymore.”
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Charles let the name ferment in his mind. Memories of the countless people he had encountered flooded his mind, triggering an excruciating headache that made his eyes involuntarily roll upwards. Gripping his head tightly, his body convulsed on the rough gravel, as if trying to shake off the torment.
A sudden wail breaks free from his mouth, catching your attention from the opposite end of the door. Charles can make out the muted pounding of your knuckles—yet it’s as if his mind is submerged in water, the sound distant and blurred. The images in his head are blurry and jumbled, like scattered pieces trying to piece together the memory unfolding in front of him.
In the dimly lit room, Charles lay bound to a table, his eyes fixated on a mesmerizing figure before him. This enigmatic man had an otherworldly appearance, with his purplish grey skin and stormy red eyes. His physique and face were nothing short of extraordinary, resembling that of the mighty Greek gods.
Charles tried to listen to the man’s words, but no sound escaped his lips. Bound to a table, he found himself surrounded by bottles of liquid gold and burgundy red, adding an eerie ambiance to the scene. Charles couldn’t budge an inch; his limbs felt as heavy as lead. It was only upon closer inspection that he noticed the astonishing sight of two additional arms sprouting from the man’s back, a detail he had failed to mention earlier.
As the man inches closer, his eyes seem like a bottomless pit devoid of any emotion, sending shivers down Charles’ back. At last, the boy begins to comprehend his words.
“Check the surrounding area. Remember these five names.Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath. If you help my mate escape safely, I’ll contemplate whether or not to kill you.” The words he spoke were laced with deceit, indicating he had no qualms about the boy’s fate, but Charles remained unfazed.
Without warning, darkness envelops him, as the names of people he knew or had heard of flicker before his eyes, each one appearing and disappearing in rapid succession. Yet, amidst this whirlwind of names, his own is noticeably absent, like a missing puzzle piece.
Riley, Ulysses, Nick, Elijah, Sophie. Charles pondered over the sequence of names, perplexed by their significance. He desperately tried to make sense of the events that had unfolded in just a matter of minutes. To his surprise, the letters composing the names started to fade away, leaving behind only the first letter of each person’s name. Charles furrowed his brow, his eyes tracing the delicate, wispy blue letters that floated in front of him. However, amidst the disappearing names, a sense of unease washed over him as he noticed the absence of your name.
R U N E S
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Recalling the man’s instructions, he grimaced at the memory of the unsettling encounter. ‘Scan the area. Memorize these five names: Velteox, Dowlat, DragonsBane, Helka, FalconsBreath.’ But who was this ‘mate’ he was referring to? Charles dismissed the thought, focusing on the task at hand.
Was it possible that the man was hinting at examining the ancient runes on the wall? Could that be the key to escaping this place? As he struggled to catch his breath, the only sound that echoed in his ears was the sound of your voice.
“Charles?! Are you alright?”
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With a trembling hand, the boy reached out to tap on the door, offering you a moment of calm. Charles lay motionless, struggling to breathe, his chest heaving with each gasp. His eyes darted to the wall, scanning the monotonous grey surface. Suddenly, a flash of iridescent colors drew his gaze, a blend of teal and fuchsia dancing before him. As he concentrated, the colors began to take shape. Charles was spellbound as a falcon materialized before him, wings spread wide as if soaring through the air, its beak slightly agape, and wisps of air seemingly escaping.
That was it, that was the RUNE: Falcons Breath.
Quickly, he scanned the wall once more, and there it was - a striking mix of green and pink hues that drew his attention. The shape extended upwards, tapering off into pointed ends. Antlers! His gaze traveled downward until it landed on the source of the movement, an elk— his eyes widened as he fought to rise to a sitting position. That was the RUNE: Helka
Charles once more cast his gaze in every direction, desperately seeking any alternative emblem. His eyes moved swiftly, like a hummingbird in flight. Yet, to his dismay, there was no other iridescent color that shimmered and rippled.
He stumbled over your name slightly as he talked. Moving towards the door, he held onto the hope that his assumption was accurate.
"Charles? Are you alright? What happe–"
“Sh, I’ll fill you in later, but right now– do something for me. Okay?” You fell silent for a moment, and he could almost hear the cogs whirring and grinding inside your mind.
“What is it?”
With a shuddering breath, the man nervously tapped his foot, his eyes fixed on the wall behind them. “Take a glance at the wall behind you, do you notice anything shimmering?” Despite feeling somewhat ridiculous uttering those words, it was their sole hope for progress.
“Charles, what’s going on? Are you sure you’re okay?”
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“Just do it! Please.” After a brief pause, he picked up on the sound of your movements and then a sharp gasp. “What’s happening? Did you find something?” His voice carried a sense of desperation, mixed with a glimmer of hope.
“It’s a yellow and silver color, it’s shaped oddly like an Ox?”
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That was it! It was the very first rune uttered by the man: Velteox. His heart leaped into action, pounding vigorously within his chest. He wracked his brain to remember the last rune shared by the man, edging closer to the door, his body tightly pressed against the peeling rust and metal. “Good, good-” he muttered, his voice stuttering slightly as he regulated his breathing and took a long, replenishing breath.
" Look around again, do you see an owl anywhere?” He could hear your muttered frustrations, but he didn’t let them get to him.
“No? I don’t think so- wait- it’s on the floor. It’s massive. It’s maroon.”
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" You might think I’ve lost my mind. But trust me, I need you to press those buttons, even if it seems pointless. Okay?” He sensed your skepticism, but this was the only chance they had to get out of here. After a moment of silence, you finally gave in and agreed.Charles came to a sudden halt, his eyes scanning the surroundings anxiously. Where on earth was the Dragon? Both he and you had managed to discover two of the mystical animal runes, but one remained elusive. Frustration gnawed at him as he absentmindedly chewed on his thumb, his teeth tugging at the skin. Suddenly, your voice jolted him out of his reverie, bringing him back to the present moment.
“The door, the door is a dragon.”
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Charles moved closer to the door, a puzzled expression on his face. “What do you mean?” Silence. He reached out and touched the door, observing as small metal fragments disintegrated and fell to the ground. Brushing his hand over the pieces, he finally understood your message. The more fragments fell, the clearer the image of the Dragon became.
“Good, good, listen and follow carefully. Hold your palm on whatever animal I tell you, alright?” He could hear your voice clearer now that he was standing closer to the door. Your agreement makes his body relax and he prays that whatever he planned on doing would work.
“The Ox, place your palm against it.”
Scrambling away from the door, you discovered the shimmering Ox rune. Upon touching it, a strange yet comforting warmth enveloped you in a welcoming embrace, unfamiliar yet reassuring. Charles called out to you, his voice resonating in the chamber. “Now, the owl.” You reluctantly pulled your hand away from the Ox and strode to the middle of the chamber. Kneeling, you pressed your hand against the Rune, feeling its intense heat. The sensation was almost unbearable, yet strangely comforting, much like the Owl. With a resolute tone, Charles uttered, “Leave the rest to me.”
With a heavy sigh, the boy released a deep breath and pressed his hand against the Dragon, only to feel a searing pain as it turned a deep shade of red. Reacting swiftly, he pulled his hand away and clutched it to his chest, his eyebrows furrowing and a groan escaping his lips. Taking cautious steps backward, he pivoted on the balls of his feet until he spotted the Elk. Still wary of the previous encounter, he extended his other hand with trepidation, relieved when it didn’t burn. Charles’s lips thinned as he closed his eyes, silently uttering a prayer. He desperately hoped that he hadn’t given you false hope about their chances of escaping this place. Gathering his resolve, he approached the Falcon and hesitantly laid his hand upon it.
Nothing.
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With a deep frown, the boy dropped to his knees, realizing that escape was impossible. He had deceived you, leading you to believe that the RUNES held the key to their escape. Lost in self-blame, Charles remained oblivious to the door opening noiselessly, despite its rusty state. As you stood up from the floor, tears welled up in your eyes, causing your vision to blur. “Charles?” His appearance matched the vulnerability in his voice- a bit scrawny with untidy brown hair. Startled, he tensed and turned his head, his eyes widening as tears also clouded his sight.
From a simple walk, it swiftly evolved into a brisk jog and then escalated into an exhilarating sprint as you tackled him into a warm embrace. With a soft thud, he collided against the wall, but he didn’t let go, instead, he tightly wrapped his arms around you. He whispered your name softly, his voice tinged with disbelief as if he couldn’t fathom the reality of you being there beside him.
With a nod, you stepped back. Meeting him in person was an exhilarating experience, as he was the first person you had encountered face to face. “I can’t believe it, I’m here,” you exclaimed. Before he could utter a word, a piercing, high-pitched creak echoed through the room, resembling the grating sound of nails on a chalkboard. Once again, you found yourselves rotating. In response, both of you huddled closer together, holding your breaths in anticipation. It seemed like an eternity before the rotation finally halted.
You found yourselves in a fresh room, facing a new door that was starkly different from the old rusty metal one. This door was a deep black shade, standing out against the now-white walls. Charles confidently got up, leaving you behind as he made his way to the door. You shook your head, inching away. There was something about that door that felt familiar.
The sensation it evoked was akin to the Runes you had handled earlier – a mixture of warmth and safety, but with a subtle tinge of danger. Your mind was flooded with warning signals, urging you to proceed with caution. “Wait, Charles!” Yet, Charles was not one to be easily fooled, or at least that’s what you desperately hoped for.
The door felt familiar to Charles. It was reminiscent of the Dragon Rune he had encountered. Aware of its perilous nature, he still yearned to be back with his loved ones. With determination, he twisted the doorknob, causing the lock to click open, revealing a dark corridor. Charles breathed out and smiled, casting a glance in your direction. “See? It’s fine, let’s g-.”
Warmth splattered across your face, sullied your hair, drenched your clothes, and colored your left eye. Charles collapsed to the ground, his knees hitting the gravel loudly and his body lurching forward. His head rolled towards you, still spurting out blood. Your eyes widened, mouth agape as you locked eyes with Charles’ head. You could do nothing but sit there, heart pumping a mile a second and breath faltering. There was a scream lodged in your throat, wanting to escape but too scared to even attempt. “Charles?”
The enclosure trembled under the weight of heavy footsteps, but you were too terrified to even move, horrified at the death of Charles. Something monstrous crouched to enter the doorway, large and muscled, with grey-tinged skin and husks protruding from its mouth. “I apologize deeply for the delay My Lady, I pray to the Demon Lord for your forgiveness.” it rumbled, dropping to its knees and inadvertently crushing Charles. Blood splattered the walls as you lost consciousness, your eyes fluttered and then rolled to the back of your head.
The Beast’s eyes widened and he rose from his position, and with two large steps, he was able to pick you up, nestling you within his arms. He looked down at the head that rested just a few feet away from you and sneered. ”Farlila filth.”
With your well-being as his top priority, he swiftly exited the room and embarked on a journey down the seemingly endless hallway. “Letter Master Ulysses, we have the Queen.”
—
Watching your lashes quiver and your nose twitch, the woman sees your eyes open, squint, and then close once more. With a gentle smile, she approaches you. “Good Evening, My Lady, my name is Elmira De Brawnheller, it is an honor to serve as your personal maid.”
In an instant, your eyes spring open, and you hastily retreat to the far end of the bed, putting some distance between you and the mysterious woman. “Who are you? Where am I?” you blurt out, your voice filled with a mix of confusion and alarm. The woman’s smile widens as she gracefully takes a step back, revealing her identity. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Elmira De Brawnheller, the esteemed head maid and your personal servant. As for your current whereabouts, you are in the second bedroom of the illustrious Vempes Palace, under the watchful eye of the Master.”
Vempes Palace, what the hell was that? Where the hell was that? And could you get home from there? You rise from the bed with a puzzled expression, “Where exactly is Vempes Palace? I just want to go home.” Elmira’s face contorts in concern. “Vempes Palace is situated in the Lomaliue Region, under the dominion of the Master.”
As she ranted, you seized the opportunity to dash towards the door, escaping while Elmira observed you with concern in her eyes. “Madam! Please don’t sprint in the corridors! You might harm yourself.” Paying no heed to her caution, you yanked the door open and veered right, your feet moving silently on the luxurious velvet floor. Your head swiveled back and forth, searching for an alternate corridor to explore, gliding past other women dressed as maids.
Elmira, who follows behind you, casually waves the women away, silently telling them to leave you be, before continuing her trek. She gasps softly when you crash roughly into Ghallahan, hitting the floor with a thump. The knight immediately drops to his knees, hands hovering over your body. “M-my Lady, I didn’t see you, I apologize for my lack of attention, please, punish me.” You shuffle back from him quickly, bumping into Elmira behind you. The woman grabs your hand and pulls you up. “My Lady, I understand that you’re confused, I know that you would like to go home, but this isn’t a discussion you should be having with us– rather the Lord of this palace.”
You pull away from her, standing sandwiched between the two of them. “Where is he? The one who kidnapped me–.” You whirl around to face Ghallahan, the pieces of your memory falling into place, “You murdered Charles.” Elmira furrows her brow. “My Lady, Master is the one who rescued you, once someone enters The Rotation Chamber, it’s nearly impossible to escape.” Your face twists into one of confusion, your little human heart pumping a mile a minute. Elmira, sensing your turmoil, wraps an arm around you and steers you back in the direction of your room. “Let’s wait for Master to get back, I’m sure he’ll explain everything.”
Elmira doesn’t mind your lack of answer, just smiles toward Knight Ghallahan and leads you inside the room.
—
As Elmira skillfully weaves your hair into intricate plaits, you find yourself lost in a trance while gazing into the mirror. The elegant dress drapes your figure in a long, pristine white, gently cascading down but still clinging gracefully to your curves. Its fabric is almost translucent, yet you observe how it magically transforms into a denser material, cleverly concealing your bosom and lower body.
“Elmira, when will he get here?”
The lady softly hums as she delicately places a diamond-encrusted pin in your hair. “Master will be back later today following the triumphant plunder of the Esdeath Organization and Rotation Chamber. You are requested to join him for dinner.” Your time at Vempes Palace has been just shy of two weeks, with Elmira and the perpetually flustered Ghallahan being your main companions. The luxurious lifestyle, the constant pampering, and the extravagant meals are things you have yet to embrace. In truth, you find it all quite distasteful.
“What is he like?”
Elmira, surprised at your question, sucks her teeth softly and stops her movements, a small smile gracing her lips. “Master is warm, reliable, fair, understanding, and above all else, honorable.” Your eyes find her face from the mirror and you notice the wispy look of recalling on her face. However, her sudden change in demeanor leaves you puzzled as she mentions, “Master is not very communicative, and tends to take a lot upon himself.”
You grunt softly in acknowledgment and drop your eyes down to your lap, your hands laying bunched together, wrist adorned with pearls and other small dainty jewelry. Elmira’s voice startles you as she speaks again and you look up.
“While Master may appear distant and aloof, My Lady, please know that he would never do anything to hurt you. He values your happiness above all else and would never do anything that goes against your desires. ”
A scoff escapes you involuntarily. “But here I am, trapped against my own wishes, utterly bored.” The sentence is muttered under your breath, but Elmira, a cat demon, catches every word and her face contorts into a gentle frown.
Without fail, you begrudgingly adhere to the same monotonous routine every day at Vempes Castle. Get up. Have breakfast. Bathe. Explore the greenhouse. Listen (albeit unwillingly) to Ghallahan’s war stories. Enjoy some tea. Dinner. Sleep.
“Is there a library?”
A spark of enthusiasm ignites in Elmira’s eyes as your question reaches her ears. It’s not often that you seek anything while under her watchful eye, so her surprise quickly transforms into pure elation. “Of course My Lady, Shall I be your escort?” She does her best to conceal her immense happiness, relieved that you’re slowly but surely finding comfort within the grandeur of the palace.
You can’t help the delicate smile that touches your lips at her enthusiasm. “Yes, please Elmira.” If you were going to be here for a little bit, you might as well enjoy the small things you loved while being in your world— or were you still in your world? It didn’t matter, you enjoyed reading books and would do so now. Elmira steps away from your seated position and you rise from the white chair, glad that she had put you in flats rather than heels. Despite your involuntary confinement, you find yourself growing closer to Elmira as you intertwine your arm with hers.
Elmira, the head maid, has a unique way of guiding you through the castle. Instead of leading from the front, she walks beside you, subtly influencing your path while respecting the hierarchy (Though seeing as Elmira was the head maid, she had a bit of leeway ). Despite your protests about the rigid rules and your lack of royal status, Elmira remains firm. The walk isn’t too long, it passes by as you take in the castle decor while stopping to politely greet the servants and knights ( who always take their job a bit too seriously by dropping to their knees, leaving you to fuss to Elmira all the while helping them up from the floor).
The two of you stop in front of a large pitch-black door that seems to stretch high to the ceiling. The doorknob, on the other hand, gleams with a pristine silver hue. Elmira notices the awe in your eyes and takes a step back, releasing her hold on your arms. “This is as far as I go, My Lady, servants are not allowed inside of the Library.”
Your eyebrows knit together and your lips form a cute pout, reflecting your disappointment.“Well then, let’s find something else to do,” you suggest. The cat demon, Elmira, shakes her head and gracefully bows to you, a knowing smile gracing her features. “I’ll be waiting just outside if you require my assistance,” she assures you. you. Her voice urges you to enter, and with a hint of reluctance, you grasp the handle and gently push open the surprisingly light door.
The moment you step into the room, the cozy atmosphere embraces you. The library is a sanctuary of knowledge, adorned with an assortment of books, maps, globes, and charming trinkets. With a soft thud, the door closes behind you, causing you to startle. Undeterred, you venture deeper into the library, twirling in awe. “Oh my goodness, this is incredible!” you whisper in disbelief.
Your fingertips glide along the dusty railing, leaving a trail in the layers of cobwebs. Your immediate thought is to find a book about the language spoken here. While Elmira and Ghallahan are fluent in your language, the majority of the staff communicate in a foreign tongue, unfamiliar to your world.
With narrowed eyes, you scan the area for the elusive letter ‘L’, carefully descending the stairs to expand your field of vision. A spark of excitement ignites within you as the golden letter finally comes into sight. However, instead of rushing towards it, you take a leisurely approach, exploring the room and daring to touch forbidden objects along the way. Eventually, you arrive at the bookshelf, and your quest is met with instantaneous success. Lomaliue, the name Elmira had mentioned, is the place where you were held captive. Lomaliue Region. Your fingers glide gently over the book spines, but alas, your efforts prove fruitless.
A frown creases your brow as you raise your gaze, your eyes eagerly scanning the shelves until they alight upon it—just beyond your reach. You spot a ladder nearby and with a determined grip, you tug it towards you, grappling with its weight. After positioning it perfectly, you embark on the climb, your legs trembling and your annoyance growing at the impractical length of your dress. Finally, you come to a halt at the 7th shelf, clutching the ladder with unwavering strength, leaning in to retrieve the book that had ensnared your attention.
“Aha! Lomaliue Language and History.”
At the sound of your sudden exclamation and excitement, your grip on the ladder momentarily slackens, causing you to sway backward. Your eyes widen in alarm as you frantically wave your arms in an attempt to regain your balance. “Whoa, whoa, oh shit.” The ladder starts to tip backward, now standing upright away from the shelf, leaving you flailing in mid-air as you struggle to lean it back against the shelf. “E-Elmira!” Your heart pounds in your chest as you finally steady yourself against the bookshelf. However, the impact of your landing causes the bookshelf to come crashing down, taking you along for the ride.
You squeeze your eyes tightly shut, preparing for a jarring collision, but it never happens. Instead, you experience a sensation of weightlessness, as if gliding through the air. You cautiously open one eye, then the other, feeling a surge of tension as you realize you are indeed floating. Before you know it, you and the bookshelf both touch down on the ground.
“You’re quite the clumsy one.”
A shudder travels down your spine and to the tips of your toes, sending goosebumps to trail up your arms. The voice, deep and velvety, lacks any emotion yet feels strangely familiar. There’s an elusive quality to it, hinting at hidden secrets just beneath the surface. Inside the dimly lit library, your eyes dart nervously from shelf to shelf, desperately trying to locate the source.
Startled, you take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest, only to collide with an unseen obstacle behind you. Your panic-stricken eyes find nothing, and as your breath catches, you reluctantly close your eyes. With trembling legs and an urgent need to relieve your bladder (because, let’s be honest, you were on the verge of peeing yourself), you turn around and come face to face with... another bookshelf.
Placing your hand on your chest, you let out a sigh of relief, even though the danger wasn’t completely gone - the person was still lurking in the library. Gritting your teeth, you gather your dress and take a deep breath, determined to make a break for it. Grateful for your choice of flats, you sprint off, book clutched tightly in your hand.
You swear you hear a chuckle of amusement behind you, but frankly? You did not give a flying fuck. Reaching the entrance in record time, you push open the door and collide with a surprised Elmira, who embraces you. Finally feeling safe, you relax in her arms and exhale deeply.
Just for a moment, she looks surprised before breaking into a smile. But that smile doesn’t last long once she catches sight of the book you’re holding. She’s quite the expert at changing moods, isn’t she?
“Ah, My Lady, books within the Library must st-.” She pauses abruptly, her gaze shifting to the Library doors closing behind you. Her demeanor changes once more, a grin returning to her face. “Forget about that, let’s head to the greenhouse instead.” You put on a smile and nod, following her lead, but you steal a glance over your shoulder and catch sight of a pair of warm, glowing eyes right before the door closes. Is it possible? You shake your head in disbelief and continue walking with Elmira.
—
As you step into the Greenhouse, a wave of familiar scents engulfs you - the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle and lilacs. It’s as if the air itself is whispering tales of home, tugging at your heartstrings. You can’t help but feel a pang of longing for the place that seems to be slipping further away with each passing day. Deep down, you sense that this sanctuary might become your new haven. Elmira, the ever-silent companion, offers no false promises or illusions of this castle “Master” taking you home, she didn’t delude you with hope.
Outside, darkness encroaches, but within the Greenhouse, an eternal sunshine prevails. The birds, their cheerful chirping filling the air, find solace in the majestic tree that stands tall at the center. Butterflies gracefully dance, their delicate wings brushing against the vibrant flowers that adorn the winding paths. Here, all sounds are hushed, as if the world itself has taken a pause. This sanctuary, your sanctuary, offers respite from the monotony of the castle. And Elmira, as always, stands ready to lend her silent support, should you choose to accept it.
As you make your way towards the cozy seating area (thoughtfully installed after your request to have a spot to sit outside) you sink into the cushions and lean back, pulling the book out from under your arm. With a gentle tilt, you position it to bask in the shade provided by the branches and leaves above. Here you are, sitting beneath the trees, engrossed in the stolen treasure from the Library. Yet, in reality, you are captivated by the soothing melody of the babbling brook flowing behind the Greenhouse. This enchanting spot has become your refuge within the castle, and with each passing day, you find yourself drawn to it even more. What a truly magnificent place it is.
In all honesty, there’s no need to be scared of this place. They weren’t doing anything to harm you. You were fed when you were hungry, given a hot bath (though it would be better if you could clean yourself) this beautiful Greenhouse— you wouldn’t count the haunted Library, that place was out of the picture and Elmira— yeah you’d count her. But aside from the bathing situation, it wasn’t all that terrible. You weren’t naive (maybe a few missing brain cells, but...), you knew there was no way out even if you wanted to leave. Where would you even go? You had no idea of your location or what lay beyond, but for now, you were safe. Still, you couldn’t help but miss your phone and movies.
“Why are you so scared?” You halt what you’re doing and lift your gaze, seeing as you had said the question out loud. The inquiry hits you like a sudden jolt, leaving you momentarily speechless. ’Maybe because I’m surrounded by monsters, have no way of getting home, I’m trapped here.’However, what awaited you upon your return home? Was it a distant family, a physically demanding nursing job that left you exhausted, or the monotonous routine of eating ramen noodles and hot dogs for every meal? Maybe it was the solemn reminder of your dog’s ashes. Your life may have been a complete mess, but it was undeniably yours.
With the book placed delicately on your chest, its Lomaliue text unintelligible to you, you close your eyes and surrender to the soothing symphony of the Greenhouse. Its harmonious melodies embrace you, guiding you into a tranquil sleep.
—
“Cold.”
When he arrives to fetch you, your voice is soft, sweet, and still heavy with sleep. Elmira, unable to bring herself to disturb your much-needed rest, alerts the Master of the castle instead. He pays no mind to the fact that you had essentially missed meeting him for the first time and had exited the Library to bring you back to your room.
Elmira observes as he carefully removes the book from your chest, stooping down to admire your delicate features and the slight drool escaping your lips. His chuckle holds small traces of humor and is almost carried away by the wind. Retrieving the stolen book, he sets it aside and lifts you effortlessly into his arms, like you weighed but a feather. Turning to Elmira, he says, “You’re dismissed for tonight, ’Mira. Thank you.”
With a bow of her head, the cat demon watches him depart, her hands tightly intertwined in worry. She knows all too well that Master would never bring harm to the Lady, she knew this quite well, but her concern for the poor girl lingers.
As you gradually awaken, your eyes flutter open, clouded with sleep and fatigue. Your head and cheek find solace against a comforting warmth, while the hands that gently grasp your thighs and curl beneath your back make you feel as though you’ve awakened in the heavenly realm.
Their voice, with its deep resonance, melts you into a warm, sticky puddle. It’s velvety and profound, similar to before but with an added allure. “Sleep, little human, I’ve forgotten just how weak your kind is.” Despite the urge to take offense, there’s no malice in his words, just a simple observation.
But who is carrying you now? It’s not Elmira or Ghallhan. Before you can even ponder further, his voice soothes you once more. “You’re thinking too much, calm down.” Oddly enough, his words bring a sense of comfort, even though they shouldn’t. ( probably because you were half asleep ) Your soft, drool-coated cheek rests back against his chest and your eyes flutter ( and scarily roll back ) shut. Back into sleep.
—
Waking up from your deep sleep, it feels like an eternity before you manage to crack your eyes open. Stretching your body like a lithe feline, you let out a small groan. The room is bathed in a soft moonlight glow, indicating that you haven’t been asleep for too long. Without much time to observe your surroundings, a deep, tranquil voice suddenly speaks.
“You’re awake, good.”
A tremble races down your body and you hop out of the bed, crumpling to the floor in a heap. You whine at the pain but you quickly refocus your attention, scanning the room with wide eyes before stopping, finding it- him? Sitting there. His skin is a deep purple-grey, his features sharp, eyes narrow, and gazes like an empty flame, which contrasted with his dark red eyes that appeared almost bloody. His ears are pointed, and his muscular frame seems to take up the whole room. Wait, are those two additional arms?
“Who the hell are you?! Elmira!”
With an exasperated sigh, the man’s eyes rolled dismissively as he got up from his chair, casually tossing a bundle of documents onto the table. “Elmira won’t be around tonight. You’ll have to wait until morning to see her,” he stated matter-of-factly. He watched as his firey little stumbled backward, nearly tripping in her haste.
What a clumsy little thing she was.
“You didn’t answer my question.” You bite out.
“Why should I?” He observes you intently as you struggle to respond, but his teasing expression softens as tears begin to form in your eyes. Stepping towards you, he tilts his head slightly as you take a step back, his flowing black hair framing his face.“I am the sovereign of this realm, of this dreary fortress. You may call me Ulysses.”
Ulysses nearly breaks into a grin as your eyebrows knit together, a sense of recognition washing over your eyes before being replaced by bewilderment. “N-no, that can’t be right.” The voice you recalled was gentle, and comforting. His, however, was anything but.
.
.
.
"What’s your name?”
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Instantly, you blurt out your name, your lips cracked and dry. “What about you?” The room falls silent, only the sound of water droplets breaking the quiet. Doubt creeps in as you worry if they are somehow involved in your predicament. Suddenly, a calm, reassuring voice responds, releasing the tension from your body, the cold racking a shudder through your body.
"Ulysses”
.
.
.
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“I don’t believe you.” Despite his apparent indifference to whether you believed him or not, he takes a step closer, and this time, you stand your ground. Swallowing thickly you lift your chin in defiance and glare, you didn’t care if he was The Pope, or hell Barack Obama. “Why am I here? I want to go home.”
Ulysses clasps his hands behind his back and lifts his gaze to your gown, noticing how the fabric that usually hid your perky breast is bunched and amiss, from your bizarre sleeping patterns and abrupt fall from the bed. This reveals your enticing round areolas, a detail that might have gone unnoticed had he been a mere mortal.
With a voice that exudes honesty and is devoid of deceit, he delivers a harsh reality that you struggle to accept. “Nothing is awaiting you there, no family who truly cares,” he states matter-of-factly. The fact that your vanishing in the upper realm didn’t even cause a ripple in their lives is unfathomable. Filled with disbelief and anger, you take a determined step forward, challenging his words.
“You’re lying! They must have searched for me!” He moves closer, his aura enveloping you, causing your skin to tingle like static electricity. “Why would I deceive you? Tell me, ao bewl, if I were to send you back home, what would be your next move? Missing a month of work has made you lose your job.” ( my love )
Ulysses observes the way your pretty eyes widen, mouth gapes open, eyebrows twitch, and doubt fills your gaze. “A month? I’ve only been here for two weeks.” Is that why Elmira seemed to skip the conversation when you asked about how many days you had been here? ( Instead from then on, you started to just count the days when you woke up. )
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“Time seems to slip away faster than you can fathom, my dear little human.”
His eyes flicker down to his wrist, stealing a glance at his watch. Pivoting on the balls of his feet, he looks back at his petite “captive” and suggests, “When you feel ready, Elmira will guide you downstairs for breakfast. Take a little more time to rest.”
Even with the lack of response he takes his leave.
Your trembling bottom lip and the pressure of your nails digging into your palms reveal your distress. Why is this misfortune befalling you? What have you done to deserve it? You have always been compassionate, kind, and patient. How could you have possibly erred in your short existence? Suddenly, the sound of raindrops dancing outside grabs your attention.
The balcony doors grant you a front-row view of the natural world, and you yearn to immerse yourself in its wonders. With a heavy heart, you rise to your feet and reluctantly make your way towards the doors. As you forcefully pull them open, the cool air and gentle raindrops caress your face and skin. You find solace as you lower yourself onto the concrete, resting your head against your folded knees, and allowing your eyes to flutter shut.
—
You find yourself lost in thought, pondering how long you’ve been sitting outside. Your trusty (albeit broken) silver watch stubbornly displays midnight, but time seems irrelevant in this alternate reality where minutes stretch into eternity. The rhythmic patter of raindrops keeps you company on the balcony, drawing you in with its soothing melody.
Despite the allure of a cozy bed mere steps away, you remain entranced by the stormy night. Rain has always been your sanctuary, a source of comfort in turbulent times. And much like the rain, you find beauty in the fog that accompanies it, shrouding the world in a veil of mystery and distorting the passage of time. The mist that envelops the cityscape only adds to the enchantment of the dreary weather.
In this enchanting world, you find yourself drawn to its allure. The raindrops fell delicately, resembling glittering diamonds, while the thick and mesmerizing fog gracefully enveloped everything in sight. Despite its seemingly monotonous nature, the sound of rain became a melody that resonated with your soul, especially during the serene nights when the neighborhood fell into a peaceful slumber and the animals reveled in joyous play.
However, you were no longer in the comfort of your own home. Instead, there was a certain allure in venturing outside during your unconventional waking hours, embracing the rain as it transformed the radiant light of the two moons into a muted glow amidst the stormy clouds. The lantern lights shimmered briefly, casting a magical glow before fading away. This was the embodiment of tranquility.
Your eyes trail to where the last lantern light on the garden flickers out, and your body turns rigid as something, tall, lanky, and dark comes slinking your way, well not necessarily your way, but down the path in your direction. The rain intensifies, drumming against the balcony railing and soaking your legs and feet. Perhaps your mind is playing tricks on you? You were stressed out and scared. A crashing sound of thunder startles you, a trail of goosebumps crawling up your arms. The sensation of them developing sends a quiver down your spine, one that leaves your bones rattling and achy.
As the rain continues to pour down heavily, the path ahead becomes a blur, even with the faint light of the moons flickering through the clouds. You can almost feel the wetness of the soil beneath your feet, the sensation of it squishing between your toes. The raindrops relentlessly peck at your face, while the gentle rustling of the trees creates a comforting hum. It’s as if Mother Nature herself is embracing you. Suddenly, a sharp pang of unease shoots through your chest, causing your eyes to flutter open.
You raise your head from its tilted position and peer down the path below the balcony. It’s not a long stretch, just the length of a car and a bit more. Your breath catches in your throat as you spot something peculiar. The figure that had been walking along the trail earlier, which you had dismissed as a figment of your fear, now stands at the end of your balcony. It is drenched and covered in a mysterious black substance. Although still tall, it no longer possesses its unnaturally thin appearance.
A terrifying grin stretches across its mouth, revealing a multitude of razor-sharp teeth, causing an uncontrollable scream to burst from your lips. In a frantic scramble, you seek refuge within the confines of your room, desperately hoping to evade the horrifying sight.
The name you scream had meant to be Elmira, but out came someone you didn’t want to see. “U-Ulysses!” Your body turns into a puddle of goo, hot, sappy goo when a large hand settles over your eyes to obscure your vision. “Well aren’t you a troublemaker?” he remarks, his eyebrows minutely creasing at the warmth emanating from your forehead and skin. As your hand rests upon his, he takes note of the clamminess of your palm.
“Do you like the rain?”
Amidst the relentless downpour, his voice cuts through the noise, smooth and velvety. It’s reminiscent of savoring a fine whiskey, leaving a warm trail down your throat. You can’t help but wonder if he tastes just as divine or otherwordly, and that thought alone makes your eyebrows furrow softly. You can feel his eyes on you, curious and searching. Knowing. Your words come out almost incoherent, but he doesn’t seem to mind. His hearing is ten times sharper than yours, after all. Your voice, like a serene lake, barely makes a ripple. As your lips part, his eyes follow every movement with unwavering attention.
“I do.”
The rain has been falling relentlessly for hours, the constant pitter-patter on the ground and roof soothing you into a cozy and passionate state. Your affection for the rain is unwavering, it’s a love that will never fade. Observing it brings back memories of your dreams, those beautiful dreams where you’re standing in a vast field, letting the rain drench your clothes and moisten your skin. It’s just you and the raindrops. The rain brings you solace. That’s why you have no qualms about watching it endlessly.
“Do you like the rain?”
Your question catches him off guard, yet he craves the feeling of vulnerability you display by trusting and relying on him, despite your previous lack of trust.
“No.”
As your sight remains obscured, you’re swiftly hoisted off the ground, the creature beneath you fading from your mind and your heart gradually returning to its normal rhythm. You hesitate to inquire further, realizing you’re essentially a prisoner in this situation, with him as your captor.
“Why.”
As you both walk in silence, there is a sense of comfort that envelops you. It’s a silence that doesn’t make you feel awkward or embarrassed about the lack of response from him. Suddenly, a thought crosses your mind - where exactly are you heading? Although the bed assigned to you wasn’t too distant, it feels like you’ve been strolling together for quite some time.
“Where are you taking me?”
As soon as your question leaves your lips, the unmistakable sound of a door slamming shut echoes through the room. Suddenly, you find yourself being gently placed onto a much larger bed than the one you were initially provided. “You’ll be staying in my quarters until I can resolve the issue with the infestation,”
As your vision returns, you sit upright on the bed and fix your gaze upon him, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “Are you talking about mice? Or rats?” A blush spreads across your cheeks when he glances at you sideways, emitting a small chuckle devoid of humor. “Sure,” he replies.
Sliding off the bed, you cross your arms protectively over your chest. “I won’t be staying in a room with you. Find me another one.” His eyebrow quirks and his eyes narrow, causing you to take a step back instinctively. “I have no intention of laying a finger on your body, especially considering you’re human,” he retorts. Offended, your mouth hangs open in disbelief and you take a step towards him.
“I never wanted you to touch me, even if you begged!” Your words are sharp as he approaches. “Calm yourself,ao bewl, I’ll be in the next chamber over.” A sudden wave of heat washes over you, causing your vision to blur and your breath to quicken. Ulysses remains unfazed as he steps closer, grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards him, his other hand lifting to touch your chin and check your forehead. “Silly woman, how long have you been out in the rain?”
Ulysses notices your lack of response and tenderly lifts you up from your slouched position against him, carefully placing you back in bed. “The rain in Lomaliue is unlike anything you’ve experienced in the Upper Realm,” he whispers under his breath, his cool hands gently brushing against your forehead and then your neck. You peer at him through blurry eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. “Is this the end for me? Am I dying? I’m dying, right? ” Fear grips you as tears stream down your face, and the room starts to spin around you.
The Demon can’t contain his amusement and lets out a deep, rich chuckle. “Come now, little human, no need for theatrics. You’re not dying. It’s simply the unfamiliar weather and atmosphere of the Under Realm that’s causing you discomfort. You’ll be alright.” Sweat clings to your body like a second skin, drenching your hair and clothing, leaving little to the imagination. A wave of intense pain surges through your abdomen, causing you to wince and squeeze your eyes shut. “It hurts, it hurts.”
Ulysses sighs and softly caresses your complexion from top to bottom, hovering just slightly over your face. Your eyes slide shut and sleep takes over. He doesn’t even startle or rise when Elmira enters the room, eyes worried. “She’ll be fine, bring my papers from the office here, cancel the board meeting, and rearrange it a sennight from now.” Elmira nods obediently and laces her hands behind her back. “Of course Master.” Before she can turn to leave, he he adds, “The Guard, have them hunt down the Helkuma that made its way in. I’ll be conducting a border check to identify any lapses in security.”
“Yes Master.” Elmira leaves the room and shuts the door behind her softly, leaving the two. Ulysses rises from the bed, intending to make his way to the plush velvet couch, but his progress is halted by a gentle tug on his loose tunic. Your small, tender hand clings to him with an intensity that suggests a desperate need for his presence, while the worry lines between your eyebrows deepen. “It seems I’ve been mated to a clingy human.”
—
For the next coming days, Ulysses spends his time doting on you as you’re in and out of sleep, while also doing a lot of the work that had piled up in his absence. Surprisingly, in your drowsy state, you show no fear towards him; in fact, you become quite affectionate and touchy.
On the seventh day, your fever finally breaks, and your pretty eyes no longer hold that bleary look of exhaustion and pain; it soothes Ulysses more than he cares to admit. Elmira hands him another stack of reports, her smile tinged with guilt as she notices his exasperated glare. “Just a few more to go, and we’ll be done, except for the east wing reconstruction,” she says, but stops when he raises one of his hands (from his third arm, the others busy with paperwork) “Don’t remind me.”
Ba-Dump. Ba-Dump
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The cat demon’s ears twitch as your heart rate quickens. “Master, My Lady has awakened,” he hums in acknowledgment, placing the two out of the three pens down and rising from the desk he had relocated to the room. “Ask the Chef to prepare a light meal and gather medicine and a sweet treat.” Carrying a few crucial documents, he settles onto the plush velvet couch, flipping through them. She nods in understanding and swiftly exits the room, gently closing the door behind her.
“I am aware that you are awake, my dear ‘captive’.”
He finds your bewildered grunt incredibly amusing, much more than he had anticipated. With a slight chuckle, he resumes his task of signing, paying no attention as you ungracefully slide out of bed and stumble toward the couch farthest from his position. Wrapped in the sheets, you look absolutely adorable, with a few trailing behind you as you settle into the comfortable couch. “What time is it? What day?”
“It’s been a sennight since you’ve come down with fever, that makes it Woedenes dæg, and it’s noon.” He steals a quick glance at his watch, indicating that he’s running out of time and you have a feeling that he’s about to go. “Which also means I have my meeting soon.” And you guessed right. “This also means I have my meeting soon.” And your intuition was spot on. Ulysses stands up and carelessly tosses the pages onto the table. “Elmira will bring you something to eat. Take a brief stroll in the gardens and enjoy the fresh air. Just remember, not more than 10 minutes. Your body needs time to adjust to this environment.”
You give a slight nod, feeling a bit disoriented and not up for a debate, the situation still feeling surreal. A sudden feeling of bashfulness overtakes you, making your cheeks burn. “Have you been here the entire time?” “Yes, the employees here are not accustomed to dealing with humans. You’re also mine. My responsibility and I allowed you to become ill, and for that, I am sorry.”
Your heart skips a beat and your stomach does a flip, but it comes crashing down when he finishes. “I also didn’t want to put them through the pain of your snoring and clinginess.” Ulysses finds amusement in the glare you send his way, watching as you curl back into the couch, observing as you settle back into the couch, appearing at ease in his presence. “Aren’t you supposed to be somewhere else? Hurry and leave.” His eyes soften and a smile quirks his lips, “I’ll come to visit you after.” You huff and wave him off with a middle finger. “Don’t bother!” Your voice trails off weakly as he walks out, shutting the door with a solid thud.
Just as you are lost in your own thoughts, Elmira enters the room carrying a tray of steaming soup. Her face lights up with a warm smile, and her steps exude a contagious energy. ” My Lady, I’m overjoyed to see you recovering. Your illness had the entire castle in a frenzy, and the servants have been sending their good wishes.”
It’s puzzling, isn’t it? You were just an ordinary person who stumbled upon this grand castle one day. Your interactions were minimal, and you couldn’t even recall the names of those you encountered. So why all the fuss? Elmira seems to read your mind and responds with a gentle smile. “In the sennights you’ve been here, your presence has brightened this place. The Gardeners feel like they have a purpose, the Chef gets to cook more often and the other maids love to dote on you.”
The Garden.
The mere thought of dining in the garden brings a smile to your face as you sit up from your previously huddled position. “Elmira, I would like to eat in the garden.”
—
The walk to the Gardens (a place you had never been to) was quick and pleasant, with the sun shining brightly at noon. The knights on patrol greeted you warmly and in a slightly chaotic manner. Stepping outside, you slipped off your new flats, lifted your dress, and ran into the grassy plains with a soft smile and squinted eyes, the sun’s rays shining in your eyes and warming your skin. A gentle sigh of contentment escaped your lips as you wiggled your bare feet in the grass of the garden. With a slight breeze in the air, Elmira draped a shawl over your shoulders before heading back to the table to prepare your breakfast.
“Elmira, why is it that I’ve never been here before?” you inquire, your voice gentle as you lower yourself, your gown spreading over the earth and your hand encircling your knees. The scent of the air is pure and invigorating, a stark contrast to the environment you’re used to. Your fingers trace the outline of a dandelion-like flower, smoothing over its bright yellow stem before picking it. Raising it to your face, you inspect the pink fluff that surrounds it. The clinking of dishes is the only sound until she interrupts.
“This is the Master’s private garden, in order to come here you would need approval. While you were recovering, I told him that you enjoyed being outside and in Nature, and he gave you access to this Garden at any time.” Elmira answers, occupied with the dolly that holds the tea and soup that had been prepared prior. As you listen to her words, a soft smile graces your lips, and your heart flutters with excitement. You take in a deep breath and let out a puff, air releasing from your lungs and onto the flower. The pappus soars through the wind, taking flight and drifting further and further away from you. The garden mesmerizes you with its meticulous upkeep, vibrant hues, and the intoxicating fragrance of the dew-kissed plants. Every plant thrives, leaving you thoroughly delighted.
You now longed for a book to read so you could enclose yourself within the garden and experience something you had yet to want until now. But, after realizing that perhaps all the books were in the language of this new world, you would have to ask Elmira or Ulysses to get you something. Ah, you said it so easily, as if staying here was a forever thing, but perhaps it was. Ulysses had hit the nail on the head about your old life - no caring family, a job ready to let you go, and no one waiting for you back home. You weren’t living, just surviving miserably.
With a soft groan, you rose from your crouched position, hands moving up from your knees as you straightened. Your eyes roamed and landed on a beautiful glass table that Elmira was setting the dishes onto. It was clear, almost see-through. White placeholders were facing the chairs that came with the table.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Your voice barely above a whisper, your fingers glide along the smooth glass surface, the set looking as if water had stilled. It could’ve been mistaken for ice if the warmth from the present sun didn’t beam onto everything in its path. You hesitate, stealing glances at the elegant table, unsure if you should dare to sit.185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRuybCWg7QQ
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The opulence of the furniture makes you question if you might tarnish it. “Elmira, is it alright for me to sit here? It looks expensive.” The cat demon nods absentmindedly, focused on arranging the items. “Certainly, the furniture is meticulously cleaned every day.” “Oh,” you respond, your brows furrowing. Your gaze swiftly shifts to your hand, a delighted smile spreading across your face as you notice something unexpected. “What is this?” you whisper softly, bringing your hand closer to examine it.
Perched on the back of your hand is a mesmerizing bug, its vibrant blue hue adorned with delicate white spots. At first glance, you might mistake it for a ladybug, if not for its peculiar shading and the menacing stinger at the end of its abdomen. Elmira’s expression changes as you inquire about the bug, her face turning pale. With a sense of urgency, she urges you.
“My Lady, quickly blow it off your hand!” You look up and away from the bug and glance toward her, panicking slightly at her tone. “What? Why? What’s wrong–.” Before you can comprehend her warning, a scorching sensation surges through your veins, engulfing your body in unbearable pain. As you glance back at your hand, you discover that the bug’s stinger is now embedded in your skin, while the insect itself has vanished amidst your frantic state.
In an instant, you’re sprawled on the ground, and Elmira rushes over, tenderly cupping your face in her palms. It’s hard not to ponder why a mundane day is an elusive dream in this peculiar world, where nothing ever seems to be ordinary.
—
“—The Hundyai Region has become overrun with–.”
The atmosphere in the meeting room instantly turns heavy as a sudden knock reverberates through the door. All eyes turn towards the interruption, their curiosity piqued. It is a rare occurrence to interrupt a meeting with the fearsome Demon Lord Ulysses, which had never been done before, or well, successfully done. Before he can even speak, Elmira enters the room with a sense of urgency, her steps quick and purposeful.
Bending down to whisper into his ear, she imparts crucial information to their Lord, causing a ripple of tension to spread across the room. The council members watch intently as Ulysses’ eyes narrow and his jaw tightens in response. With a stiff nod, he acknowledges Elmira’s message, prompting her to exit the room gracefully. Bidding a respectful farewell to the men at the table, she disappears as silently as she had arrived.
Standing up from his spot at the head of the table, Ulysses straightens his cuff links. “Let’s postpone the meeting for now. Feel free to wait in the lounge with some refreshments.” There are no protests, no irritation, just unwavering loyalty. “Understood, my Lord.”
She can’t seem to stay out of trouble.
—
“How long ago was it?”
Elmira anxiously clasps her hands together as she hurries alongside Ulysses, makes his way to his bed in a few long strides.“It couldn’t have been more than five minutes. I rushed to your side as soon as I could. Ghallahan brought her back here,” she explains.185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡm3PJJNleIE
185Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhd8eNgnFpb
Ulysses tenderly cups your chin in his large hand, observing as your eyes glaze over and your lips part to take a deep breath upon his touch. Your skin feels warm and moist with a thin layer of perspiration, causing him to curse himself for his lack of attentiveness. “Bring me something to alleviate the pain and swelling within 10 minutes. Clear out the staff near my room and instead attend to our guests. If I need anything, I’ll call for you.”
Elmira, though reluctant, nods and shuffles out of the room.
“What’s happening to me?” Ulysses, captivated by the alluring and breathy tone of your voice, shifts his attention back to you. He nonchalantly rolls up his sleeves and unbuttons his shirt ever so slightly. “While in the Garden you were stung by a Fern. Their venom can intensify one’s libido to a dangerous extent if not treated correctly.It can also lead to swelling in the limbs and even affect the brain, depending on the specific type of Fern.”
In the midst of your poisoned state, your eyes widen with a mixture of fear and disbelief. Your thighs involuntarily clench together as your heart beats erratically in your chest. The overwhelming realization that death may be imminent engulfs you, and you find yourself uttering desperate words, “Oh God, I’m going to die, I don’t want to die.”
However, amidst the chaos, a strange sensation begins to stir within you. Your nipples harden beneath the fabric of your dress, the sensation bordering on painful. Ulysses gently brushes his hand against your, puffy lips sending a jolt of electricity through your body. His touch trails down the side of your neck, leaving a trail of anticipation in its wake. “For it to stop, I need to pleasure you.” Your body tenses at the information and your cheeks flush. “Why can’t I do it myself? I’ll just do it myself.”
“It doesn’t work that way my sweet little dove.”
The thought of him touching you so intimately sends tingles of white-hot pleasure down your tummy. Another wave of heat hits and beneath your dress your wet, sticky thighs rub together, desperate for a touch of any kind. You can feel your clit swell and ache as your blood rushes to it. Your panties are damp with your arousal.
As you lock eyes with him, his passive yet sharp features, and his deep, alluring red eyes, you sense a hunger that sets him apart from the rest. The sinewy muscles of his arms ripple, captivating your attention, while you involuntarily and boldly cup your breast within your small hands, embracing your own provocative nature. It becomes clear to you that the mere thought of his touch has the power to bring you to the brink of climax.
You can’t help but feel a little shy, but there’s no denying the effect he has on you. The way his voice rumbles sends shivers down your spine. His deep, sultry tone stirs something deep inside you. “Come on, talk to me.” His voice is almost pleading, and you comply with a quick nod, gasping as his lips press against yours, dominating and all-consuming.
His tongue dances over your lower lip, relishing the addictive taste of your mouth. His teeth sink in, causing a pleasurable moan to escape into his mouth, your fingers desperately clinging to him; as his fingers trail calmly down your waistline and tickle your belly button. Slowly, they make their way back up to the neckline of your dress, effortlessly tearing it off, and exposing your breasts to the cold air, causing goosebumps to rise. Though his warm mouth chases them away.
Your thighs tighten around his waist, feeling the hot, pulsating bulge in his pants pressing against your stomach. The most sultry, erotic moan he’s ever heard pierces his ears and the deep, primal groan that he lets out makes you whimper. He lifts his head to gaze into your eyes, seeing the raw desire and intense need reflected at him.
His fingers massage into your hips, reassuring and light as he pulls you closer to him, his mouth continuing a slow, tantalizing assault on your nipples. Each time his teeth nip you, you mewl wantonly and arch into him, hips grinding against his thick bulge. Tears trickle down your cheeks at the discomfort between your thighs, a fire that slowly starts to eat you alive.
Ulysses’ hand caresses your breast, thumb teasing your wet nipple. And you let out the most sinful, obscene moan; forcing you to stifle it with your hand. ” It’s only me and you here, dove ” He states, kissing down the valley of your breast, eyes flitting upwards to gaze at your tortured face. His breath leaves his lungs in a shocked rush, and a surge of emotions engulfs him when his eyes find yours, they’re wet with tears and you down at him through thick lashes, eyes so trusting and yet so scared.
“In this life and the next, you possess the power to consume me entirely. ” His voice, a mere whisper, and his hands cupping the soft weight of your breast. He bends his head, his teeth scraping over your left nipple. His other arms work on taking off the top half of his clothing, carelessly ripping them away. You sob out, the sound unlike anything he’s heard, it makes his cock strain against his trousers. Once again, he claims your breast, his mouth unyielding. Suckling vigorously, his tongue dancing across your nipple, while his fingers tease and caress the other. Your cries echo, as you entangle your fingers in his tousled locks.
As he lifts his head from devouring you, his gaze fixates on the vibrant hues that adorn your bosom, and you gasp at the color of his eyes. He knows you see the dark red of his eyes, a lust-filled predator, and yet you don’t seem to care one bit. Instead, you yearn for him, your arms entwining around his neck to meet him in a kiss.
Ulysses revels in the sensation of your body melding seamlessly with his, surrendering to his dominance as he ravishes your mouth with a fervent hunger, relishing the taste of your fervor. Your essence, an addictive nectar, surpasses any pleasure he has ever savored in his two millennia of existence.
As your perky nipples graze against the chiseled contours of his muscular chest, a shiver of pleasure courses through your body, leaving you breathless and emitting a delicate whimper. He hungrily devours your surrender, his lips relentlessly claiming yours, until your once tender lips become swollen, evidence of his insatiable desire.
“More,” You plead softly. “I need more.”
You can’t help but squirm against him, hips bucking. Hungry. Needy. Demanding. The poison inside you ignites a fiery hunger, and only he can quench it. All you desire is him. His touch, his kiss, rough and demanding. You yearn for the numbness that envelops you when he tilts your head back, dominating your mouth repeatedly. Your cries are filled with urgency, and you don’t care if you have to beg him to get what you want. What you needed.
“I can feel the heat of your cunt through my pants, dove,” He whispers softly, and to you? He murmurs gently to you. He exudes pure, sinful allure. Temptation. Forbidden and devilish. The brush of his teeth on your neck causes your eyes to close and your lips to part. “I bet your panties are drenched, aren’t they?” The question has another wave of slick dripping from your pussy.
He doesn’t bother waiting for your response; instead, he plants a series of kisses from your lips to your neck, and then down to your breasts. Every gentle bite or caress sends a surge of heat directly to your pussy. The heat is intense, scorching, pulsating between your thighs, and you can’t help but squirm. Your pussy twitches, clenches, and weeps with hunger.
“I want to see for myself,” He states, nipping under your breast and then down along your ribs. “I need the taste of you on my tongue, mate.” His sensual words make you flush red, but sends your stomach clenching in anticipation, it goes straight to your core. You weren’t certain you could survive. Certainly if he didn’t speed up his teasing you wouldn’t, you truly didn’t want your brain to swell and explode.
His stalling mouth doesn’t stay very long but continues to journey down your belly, his tongue dipping into your navel. Gracefully, he slides off the bed and kneels in front of you, urging you to the edge and pushing your thighs apart. “Rest your feet on my shoulders,” he commands, his voice thick and velvety. Filled with dark desire. A shiver runs down your spine at the sound and another pulse of hunger. There’s no thought in your mind that think to defy the edge in his tone. Without hesitation, you comply, soft feet settling over his broad shoulders.
You would do anything for him at this moment. You had never in your 20+ years of living ever felt so desperate or needy. The feeling was so strange but, so intense, your body shook with it. Your heart raced, blood pounding in your ears and flushing your cheeks. Ulysses’ face bore a dark, erotic lewdness. Intense. Savage even. Feral and untamed, it stirred something deep within you, something you didn’t even realize was there. You hungered for him so much that you could sense the warm wetness of your arousal trickling down your thighs and gathering between your folds in anticipation.
A soft whimper escaped your lips as you gripped his hair, your breathing ragged. You were completely open to him and you should have been embarrassed, a strange demon buried between your legs, but instead, you were all the more desperate for him to do something—anything.
“So wet. So sweet.” His gaze fixates on the luscious, soft curls on your mound, damp with heat, his eyes hooded and hungry. With a low, primal growl, he exhales a cool breath directly onto your feverish folds, and you cry out, oversensitive and gripping his horns to steady yourself. “You belong to me,” he declares. You don’t even have time to process his words because he lowers his head to the feast between your shaking thighs. Your cry is hoarse. Broken. Mewling. He doesn’t just give a tentative lick. Ulysses takes what he wants like a starved beast. He consumes your mind, body, and soul with a ravenous appetite.
He consumes you. His tongue delving deep to extract the spicy, sweet taste of you. He nibbles, sucks. He dominates you with just his mouth and nothing more. Powerless to do anything but hold on, you grasp his horns, his firm hold on your thighs, keeping your legs spread wide for his plundering mouth. It was beautiful. So good. Better than anything you could have imagined. Your mind refuses to function, focusing on the sheer pleasure escalating like a tsunami. The sensations are indecent, and arousing, the intensity escalating the insatiable desire within her higher and higher.
He releases a fierce hunger within you, his tongue flicking, diving deep repeatedly, caressing and teasing. His deep snarls only added to the sensations battering through you. The flames roar back with a vengeance, tantalizing your nerves and scorching through your veins, a blaze of passion across your stomach and down your legs, along your spine, and deep inside your sopping pussy.
You were so close, the tension coiling so tightly you cry out with need as his mouth envelops your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, he licks just enough to overwhelm you with sensations, but not enough to release you. “Ulysses,” You whimper his name in a desperate plea. Begging. Longing. Knowing he would fulfill your desires in his own time. Your body was his. He had claimed it and he was making sure you were aware of that. “Please,” You whisper, fingers now clutching his black tresses.
He looks up at you and you feel the added intensity of his twinkling eyes. Your hips involuntarily thrust against him, craving the tantalizing sensations that tease you just beyond your grasp. His mouth covers your sensitive clit once again, his tongue flicking, licking, pressing with broad, flat strokes and caresses, driving you higher than you thought possible, until you scream your release. The rapid, relentless rhythm pushes you beyond your limits, causing you to surrender to the overwhelming release that consumes you.
Overwhelmed by ecstasy, you bury his face deeper into your pulsating core, grinding against his tongue as your thighs tremble with desire. “Ulysses.” You sob his name like a prayer. He tenderly traces the inside of your thigh, soothing your senses with his gentle touch. Slowly, your eyes flutter shut, your racing heartbeat gradually returning to its steady rhythm. Exhaustion washes over you, and the sweet embrace of sleep claims you.
With a soft knock on the door, the demon eases you back into bed, pulling the duvet over your body. Elmira glides into the room, placing the requested items on the table. “Escort the guest back to the meeting room, we’ll resume the conference.”
—
As you wake up from your poisoning-induced slumber, the darkness of night surrounds you, the castle eerily quiet except for the gentle sound of raindrops. Sitting up in bed, you slowly rub the sleep from your eyes, allowing the events of the day to slowly return to your mind. “Oh God.” The events from earlier today rush back to you in vivid detail. You cover your mouth with your hand, shaking your head in disbelief. It must have been a dream, an incredibly lifelike, tantalizing dream. But the dampness between your thighs and your labia tells a different story. “I must have been dreaming.”
“Of what?” The deep voice that you were starting to get used to startles you. Ulysses closes the door behind him, striding over to his desk. “I came to check on you after what happened earlier,” His muscles tense and a surge of desire flickers in his eyes. Oh, and you were naked beneath the sheets. “So, I wasn’t dreaming?” Ulysses chuckles humorlessly. “With the taste of your pussy still on my tongue, I don’t think so.” You try and ignore his lewd words, cheeks heating, instead you question him. “Earlier, when, yeah— you called me your mate, are we talking like, Australian mate? Pirate mate? Ahoy. What did you mean by it?”
“As in soulmate, predestined. You belong to me as I belong to you.” His voice is gravelly and tinged with weariness, and you almost invite him into bed with you. “How? And how do you find me? Why me?” “Soulmates for Demons are rare, not many have them and they usually outlive them. Stumbling upon you was a fluke, but one I wouldn’t change.” Ulysses studies your reaction with a bated breath, searching and wondering. “I discovered you through your heartbeat. Your emotions. I could sense them all. Your fear, your relief, your longing.”
“As simple as that, I got attached. Part of me wanted to leave you there, to never lay eyes on you again. However, your emotions anchored me. The solace you found in the echo of my voice and the sense of security you experienced, impelled me to protect you.” Ulysses saunters closer, pausing to rest against the bed frame. “Your clumsiness, magnet to trouble, love of nature, and politeness to the staff, only made you more irresistible.”
Your heart pounds relentlessly in your chest, a rhythmic thump that resonates with the intensity of a confession. “Whether you desire to depart from this place is inconsequential, for I have no intentions of releasing you,” Is it sinful that you find yourself utterly aroused? The way his smoldering eyes possessively roam over your figure sends a tantalizing shiver down your spine. His eyebrow quirks in a provocative gesture, and his eyes sparkle with a magnetic allure.
You felt your cheeks flush and your heart pound. He knew exactly how to turn you on. It was wrong, but it was also thrilling. The way he gazed at you made your pussy sop. Your clit throbbed with excitement. A part of you blamed it on the poison still gliding through your veins. “I don’t see a reason to go anywhere,” you murmur, relaxing your grip on the sheet. Ulysses’ jaw tightens as he advances, his lips crashing onto yours forcefully, swallowing your moan before breaking away.
“I’ll put your mouth to use little human.”
The thought of his throbbing cock sliding deep into your throat sends delightful shivers down your spine and the way his gaze darkens lets you know that he can also feel what you think as well. With a hint of shyness, you cautiously approach him, allowing the sheet to gracefully slip from your body, settling on your knees right before him. Craning your neck to look up at him, captivated by his towering presence. At his staggering height, you had no problem being face-to-face with his bulge. Your lips form a sultry pout as he gently cradles your face in his hands, while his other two hands firmly grip your hair, a hold that is both biting and intoxicating, leaving your pussy dripping.
A primal hunger consumes you. He was an irresistible temptation, and you had already indulged in a sinful taste of him, otherworldly and enigmatic. You yearned for more. “Put your hands on my thighs,” He says softly, his gaze burning into yours. You inhale deeply, your head shaking in disbelief, your eyes sparkling with desire. “I’ve never done this before.” “I know.” Those two words swirl inside you. Makes you shiver. Those two words send an electrifying shiver down your spine. With his remaining hand, he deftly undoes his pants, revealing his cock.
As you inhale deeply, your throat tightens and your eyes feast upon him. Ulysses, a towering figure with a sculpted physique, captivates your attention. His jet-black hair is elegantly swept away from his captivating face. With broad shoulders and narrow hips, he possesses a striking V-shaped silhouette. His thighs are thick but lean and firm, but your gaze is centered on his pulsing, jerking cock. He’s bigger than you imagined a man would be— well a demon. He’s long and thick, perfectly matching his skin tone, but there is an otherworldly quality to it that leaves you craving more. Intricate ridges and pulsating veins adorn its length.
“Keep looking at me, dove. I need to see you, to make certain you want this.”
Your gaze swiftly ascended, locked in a passionate connection, for in that very moment, you were ready to surrender the world to him. He envelops his fingers around the base of his cock, guiding it towards your awaiting mouth, an act so tantalizingly arousing, it surpasses any previous encounters. (Not that you’ve had many, but...) Ulysses presses the velvety head against your lips, and the sensation of his precum moistening them ignites a pulsating surge of pleasure within your core. Driven by instinct, you part your lips and sensually lick the glistening droplets, taking the offering and savoring his taste.
His groan is deep as the flat of your tongue dances over his sensitive tip. He retreats momentarily, causing you to whimper in protest, which is quickly silenced as he abruptly sinks into your mouth, giving you what you want. He moves unhurriedly, each stroke taking him deeper until he’s nearly at the back of your throat, careful of you. But you can feel the way his body responds as you suckle hard. It’s orgasmic, the violent way his muscles contract from the burning pleasure. His gaze, dark and intense, follows every movement of his cock as it slides in and out of your mouth and shaft sloppy now, dripping with saliva.
You revel in the sensation of his intense gaze watching your pillowy lips enveloping his cock, and this feeling alone from you has his cock swollen and engorged, so much so that your jaw aches. You sensually trace circles around the tip before lavishly slurping the underside of his shaft. Your eyes lock with his as he spasmodically twitches within your mouth.
“Enough.” An order, his voice rough. He can’t help himself. He had to have you. The plea in your eyes, the pure fire burning there, swallowing him whole, is too difficult to oppose. With one final thrust, he plunges deep into your throat, holding you there until your eyes well up with tears, before sliding his cock from your mouth.
Ulysses follows you down onto the bed, your arms circling his neck. Your thighs part, thighs glistening and pussy glittering in the soft, dull glow of the moons. And oh, he seizes the opportunity, lodging the wide head of his cock into that fiery haven. A growl rumbles low in his chest as your pussy clenches, squeezing around the tip of his cock. Your cunt felt like molten lava engulfing him, so intense that he feels he might explode. Ulysses slowly applies pressure, short bursts that push through your resistance. It’s scorching. So perfect. Too tight. Strangling him in a vice grip. The sensation is sheer bliss, your body stretching and igniting, reluctantly surrendering to his invasion.
Ulysses halts as he knocks dully on your thin, virgin wall and holds himself still, jaw ticking and hands gripping the bed frame, causing it to splinter. To give your body the time it needed to adjust to his incursion. He wasn’t nearly in deep enough. The effort to remain still is almost unbearable. “Dove, look at me.” he pleads. He had to see your eyes. Your lashes flutter and then lift. His stomach muscles contract malevolently. His body shudders and his cock thickens, and throbs, desperate for more.
You looked absolutely breathtaking.
“I need more,” You whisper. “Please, hurry. Please. I’m burning up. I need . . .”
“I know what you need.” Three of his arms embraces your hips, lifting you effortlessly. In an instant, your legs coil around him, ankles clasping at his waist, and fingers entwining at the back of his neck, eyes pleading. Ulysses takes a deep breath, for the sight of you is overwhelming. He thrusts forward, with unrelenting intensity. Breaking through your innocence and forcefully entering your tightness, the scalding fire seizing him, and your tight pussy has no choice but to accept all of him.
You cry out at the bite of pain, but he feels you surround his cock tightly, tugging him deeper until he’s lodged all the way, kissing your cervix. Your tight muscles contract around him, gripping and pulsating. Your hips buck. A small whimper of need slips from your throat. The need to fuck hard and deep into you repeatedly nearly sends him over the edge. “Are you ready? Breathe for me, dove.” Your eyes meet his. Wild. So untamed, his breath catches in his throat. He holds you still while you try your hardest to grind against him, desperate to move.
“Please, fuck me.” Your voice sends him over the edge. He moves then, drawing back and then plunging deep into your drooling cunt. Your tightness, like scorching silk, grip his cock. He feels the last of his control snap and he begins to drill into you. It’s rough, too rough for your innocence, but he can’t help himself. The pleasure consumes him, almost bordering on pain in its intensity.
He can feel you rising toward your orgasm. Surging toward it. He grasps your hips firmly, holding you, for a moment, savoring your tight, dripping cunt, and then he surges into you over and over with hard, deep strokes. Ulysses feels his balls tighten at the sudden, overwhelming convulsion of your pussy. The intense fluttering around him.
Your moans fill his ears—his very being. Pleasure overwhelms him. Each hard jerk of his thick, creamy cum spilling into you is a wave of pleasure. He raises his head and looks down at you, at the helpless, cute, bewildered pleasure on your face. Your lashes flutter and before you can open your eyes all the way, Ulysses slants his mouth across yours. Gently. Completely at odds with his roughness earlier. And you respond softly. Tiredly.
“Sleep, we have all of eternity.”
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