la jeune fille marquée
Minette looks at the stallion in disbelief, startled at the pleasant cadence of his words. They hold a touch of something she would swear was concern if she didn't know him better. She eyes him, her muscles taut with caution, but her brown eyes betray the longing for gentleness she always holds within her.
Minette stiffens as he caresses her but she does not fight him. She knew he would fulfill the promise he made when he left her at the opening to hell and she knows that to defy him would be useless. Unlike the first time, though, he is gentle, almost loving in his touches. She is not a willing participant but she doesn't feel ravaged and broken by the encounter. Compared to the devastation of her last few days, his body against hers is almost heavenly.
She is stunned.
He finishes, his pure white angels wings ruffling her side. Min wonders what he did to earn them.
"I-I'm sorry I went to the Chamber first. It was on the way…"
She hates herself for the apologetic tone in her voice, the need to apologize to her rapist and captor. She cannot help herself. Minette has wanted a good man to please. The desire is ingrained in her; she just never knew it would not be a good stallion she ended up with. Her mind is a battlefield of warring desires.
At her core, Minette is hopeful, and she feels a tendril of wary expectancy. Perhaps, perhaps, there is more to Gryffen than the wolf he appears. She is not sure if she truly believes in him, but her time below ground has torn her apart and she grasps at the smallest shreds of optimism. Still, the pale gray mare thinks of her wounds and of the one who handed her over to be the plaything of a dark god. She pauses for a long time, looking away from the stallion to gather her courage.
"He… he hurt me." An overwhelming understatement. The vastness of her ordeal makes her weary and steals the words from her throat. Her joints still ache with every move she makes.
The monster grizzly bears down on her. Sobs rip from her throat as the sounds of his footsteps grow ever nearer.
She starts again, blinking to clear her head, unconsciously leaning into Gryffen. "I-there was a fire. And his touch..."
Her skin crackled, burning away like bark pulls from a tree.
She shakes her head vehemently, traumatized by the images that will never leave her. Her skin burns hotter and the warmth of him against her side is is suddenly absorbed by her body. Slowly, so slowly that she doesn't even notice, the brand on her left haunch begins to knit together, looking like a scar of several weeks instead of one that is recently seared.
"Gryffen." she says warily. "What do you mean, reward?"
She flicks her tail uncomfortably, her voice soft. Without conscious thought, her body has relaxed.
"But how can I trust you?"
Minette wants to believe. Her heart aches with the desire to be soothed.
Minette stiffens as he caresses her but she does not fight him. She knew he would fulfill the promise he made when he left her at the opening to hell and she knows that to defy him would be useless. Unlike the first time, though, he is gentle, almost loving in his touches. She is not a willing participant but she doesn't feel ravaged and broken by the encounter. Compared to the devastation of her last few days, his body against hers is almost heavenly.
She is stunned.
He finishes, his pure white angels wings ruffling her side. Min wonders what he did to earn them.
"I-I'm sorry I went to the Chamber first. It was on the way…"
She hates herself for the apologetic tone in her voice, the need to apologize to her rapist and captor. She cannot help herself. Minette has wanted a good man to please. The desire is ingrained in her; she just never knew it would not be a good stallion she ended up with. Her mind is a battlefield of warring desires.
At her core, Minette is hopeful, and she feels a tendril of wary expectancy. Perhaps, perhaps, there is more to Gryffen than the wolf he appears. She is not sure if she truly believes in him, but her time below ground has torn her apart and she grasps at the smallest shreds of optimism. Still, the pale gray mare thinks of her wounds and of the one who handed her over to be the plaything of a dark god. She pauses for a long time, looking away from the stallion to gather her courage.
"He… he hurt me." An overwhelming understatement. The vastness of her ordeal makes her weary and steals the words from her throat. Her joints still ache with every move she makes.
The monster grizzly bears down on her. Sobs rip from her throat as the sounds of his footsteps grow ever nearer.
She starts again, blinking to clear her head, unconsciously leaning into Gryffen. "I-there was a fire. And his touch..."
Her skin crackled, burning away like bark pulls from a tree.
She shakes her head vehemently, traumatized by the images that will never leave her. Her skin burns hotter and the warmth of him against her side is is suddenly absorbed by her body. Slowly, so slowly that she doesn't even notice, the brand on her left haunch begins to knit together, looking like a scar of several weeks instead of one that is recently seared.
"Gryffen." she says warily. "What do you mean, reward?"
She flicks her tail uncomfortably, her voice soft. Without conscious thought, her body has relaxed.
"But how can I trust you?"
Minette wants to believe. Her heart aches with the desire to be soothed.