Bodies could break.
Minds could close down.
I could feel what Torrin was feeling and glimpsed his inner turmoil through brief flashes of his memories. He stopped seeking bedmates when the need to fuck became primal, and he hurt those who thought to take pleasure with him. He started allowing another male to feed them pleasure while Torrin gave them pain. That way, they never knew Torrin was delivering pain as he sated his hunger on their bodies.
He made them imagine it was an incredible pleasure they felt, and it worked. He found release with them. Lately, though, it too had become numb and muted over the last fifty years. He turned, staring out the window where the darkness filled the kingdom, before looking down at the woman, who stared like an entangled animal snared in a trap.
Rolling off of her, Torrin moved toward the table, dick covered in her juices and still fucking hard enough to wield as a blade. My body shuddered, listening to her retrieving her things and rushing from the room in fear.
Exhaling, he placed his hands onto the ancient wooden table in the bedroom and poured over maps marked with locations, showing information regarding the library.
“Get the fuck out of my head, bitch!” Torrin snarled angrily.
He ejected me from his memories and grabbed my throat as a strangled cry expelled from my lips. Torrin slammed my head against the wall, and darkness washed over me. My body slumped into powerful arms that caught and lifted me.
Chapter Three
The sound of flames crackling against wood woke me from a pain-filled sleep. I whimpered, trying to place my hands onto my head, only to find them tied to the arms of the chair. My eyes glared down at my naked thighs, slowly moving to the rope wrapped around my knees, wrist, and leading up to my throat. I gasped, leaning forward, and my legs parted. I placed my head down, studying the way my body moved.
Frowning, I glared at the ropes, noting the thick knots that wouldn’t allow me to escape. I moved my hands, and my knees rose higher while something behind me squeaked as if I were on a pulley system. My brows furrowed as my attention swung to where I sensed Torrin’s presence.
Torrin, Head of the Guard, the dark warlord of the army that served King Aragon, reclined on the bed, silently observing me while I took in how helpless I was. I swallowed past the pain in my head, staring at the sleek, toned muscles on display.
His arms were sprawled behind his head, folded, while an impassive look held my stare. He was all toned muscles and dark tattoos that drew the eye to them, keeping them prisoner while I tried to discern what the inked text said or meant.
“What kind of shit is this?” I whispered past the dryness in my mouth. How long had I slept? Groggy from pain and from endless days of riding to reach this village, I dropped my head back. Torrin pulled on the rope, forcing my legs open, leaving me in a sinful position as I snapped my head upright, glaring at him murderously. “I’m going to enjoy cutting you up into tiny pieces and eating you.”
“You talk too much about murdering people for something so weak,” he grunted, moving to sit up, which caused his muscles to ripple and bunch tightly at his abdomen. My eyes slid over the masculine form, drinking in the sight of the warlord who had seen more wars than I could count.
I’d heard of Torrin, of his mercilessness in battle and the coldness he exuded toward his enemies. If this asshole had wanted me dead, I’d be dead already, and we both knew it. He was keeping me alive for something more than dragging me to his king’s feet and dropping me there.
“How did you get into my head?” he asked, standing up to move closer to the chair. I slowly adjusted my eyes, yet I could still not take him in without becoming a puppet as he neared where I sat.
I’d been knocked out when the moon-sight activated, which meant for the next few hours, my eyesight would be utter shit up close. I repeatedly blinked, trying to force it to revert to my heightened sight, but failed. I closed my eyes tight because the head pain would worsen from seeing triple of everything if I didn’t.
Moon-sight was the ability to see within the darkness, fed to us by the moon. If the moon were only a mere sliver, we wouldn’t be able to see into the darkness. Tonight, though, it was a crescent moon, allowing me to use it’s light because it wasn’t a full moon. Firelight didn’t affect me, but being trapped in a room with lanterns lit forced my vision to swim after being in the dark for so long. Plus, the pain was piercing my skull.
Something pushed against my lips, and I groaned, turning my head, which, of course, opened my thighs more. My eyes opened, narrowing as one hand gripped my jaw tight, and the other pushed a finger against my lips.
“Suck,” he ordered.
The scent of moonflower dust hit my senses, and I opened my lips, moving my tongue over his finger, covered in the substance.
Torrin hissed the moment my lips closed around it, licking every speck from his finger until my teeth skimmed the offending intrusive appendage. I licked more until I was certain I’d consumed all the dust, slowly dancing my tongue around the finger he’d pushed in between my lips. Biting down, I enjoyed the hiss of pain that escaped him. His hand against my jaw tightened, applying pressure until my mouth opened to release the bleeding finger.
I opened my eyes to find him studying my lips while my tongue darted out, dragging over them to claim the dust and blood left behind. To the Moon Clan, moonflower dust was addictive and caused our bodies to heat and burn with need. It was an aphrodisiac but also a cure that remedied moon-sight sickness, among other things.
“I want to know how the fuck you got into my head and could see my memories,” Torrin demanded and then snorted when I just continued staring at him. His hand lowered, and his fingers pinched the muscle of my thighs that connected my sex to my leg.
I gasped, crying out as he watched me through impassive eyes that studied my reaction. I closed my lips and stared at him in an open challenge. His other hand lifted to pinch the other side as knuckles skimmed over my sex, and I trembled violently, which caused his eyes to drop to where my body clenched with need.
It wasn’t something that I’d meant to do. My response to his touch had been a knee-jerk reaction that had made my entire body clamp down with desire. Torrin’s eyes narrowed to angry slits, and he stood abruptly, moving toward the chair across from me. He ran his thumb over his bottom lip before he grunted and steepled his hands in front of his mouth.
“What the fuck does your king want with the Sacred Library?” I demanded, uncaring that I wasn’t in a prime position to interrogate him, but, hey, obviously I had to try. Right?
“How the fuck did you get into my head, little girl?” he countered.
“I’m not little. You’re an ogre, Torrin.” Those frost-colored eyes lifted to lock with mine, holding them prisoner as a sinfully dark smirk played on his lips.
“Did you enjoy watching me fuck her?” he countered huskily.
I swallowed hard, dropping my eyes to the monstrous cock that had been pounding into the woman, who hadn’t been tiny by any means. She’d been much larger than me, and she’d had actual tears of pain escaping her eyes. He’d craved violence, which should have horrified me, yet it hadn’t in the least bit.