Ancients Reborn: The Gods and Goddesses Greece (Raivh and Blair1216)

[Raivh]

Tearing into the roll, he let the bread grow soggy on his tongue and didn’t chew before swallowing. It lasted longer that way, took his mind away from the throbbing erection concealed by the front of his pants. When she spoke his name, he could pick up something almost hesitant, unsure. “Hm?” As she sidled up to his side, he felt his need to have her spike, and cursed himself inwardly. He should have known better than to undress a woman after knowing her for just under three days. Not to mention—he gave her a sidelong glance—she didn’t have the same feelings brewing as he did in his gut. Not for him, anyway. She wouldn’t even look his way with those gorgeous blue eyes.

Her question settled in the air between them, a weight that he wasn’t sure he wanted to test. If she stayed with him, he wasn’t certain he could keep his hands to himself. It was already difficult to contain the burning desire to kiss her again, which was wrenched to the surface again when she looked at him with guilt in her blue eyes. He didn’t understand why she stared up at him that way. She hadn’t done anything wrong, only asked him to stop before they did something irreversible. Even if his balls hurt, he was glad they stopped. The last thing he wanted her to be was scared of him, or to have regretted anything they did together. His heart jumped when he felt the shift of material against his chest, and glanced down to see her hand there.

The question she’d asked him, as well as his response, shot out of his mind the moment she placed her hand against his arousal. Instantly he tensed, muscles tight and rigid and unwilling to move, not permitting him to remove her hand. “Scarlet.” He swallowed hard, trying to force the swollen lump in his throat down his esophagus and into his stomach, out of the way so he could speak without straining to do so. Shallow, excited breaths were pulled into his lungs, and he held his breath when her finger danced along the elastic band. His eyes wouldn’t pry from where her hand was, but from his peripheral he could see her blue eyes, intense, contemplating, and locked on his face. Without warning, that small, soft hand of hers dove, and he tensed, unable to control the gasping groan that burst from him.

Shuddering, he failed to gulp in the necessary amount of air for his brain to function rationally. Still confined, so hard, he wanted freedom—release. He ground his teeth together against the sudden rush of cold air surrounding his thick cock, and then gasped again when she wrapped her hand around it and slowly pumped her fist up and down. The friction was good—better than good. It was great. He sputtered for oxygen, and his eyes plummeted to her slender face the moment her final two words left her luscious lips.

“Shit!” he cursed aloud. He arched when he felt the warm, soft give of her tongue press against the hypersensitive flesh covering the head of his pulsating cock. If the pleasure from that quick swipe of her tongue wasn’t excruciating enough, he stopped breathing the moment she licked all around the bulbous, ruddy tip. His eyes flew down and back up her body as she shifted, allowing him a most glorious view of slender shoulders and arms, soft, shapely breasts framed by her golden locks, and a nice stomach. Dampening his cracked lips, he cursed soundlessly into the air, staring down into her blue eyes. He groaned in desperation when she took the head of his member past her velvety lips and into her soft, wet, warm mouth.

First impulse told him to thrust. Instead, he tangled his fingers in her hair, fisting the golden tresses and urging her to take more of him inside. He wasn’t going to last long; the urge to come was too strong, persistent, and impatient. Thrust. Instinctively Isaac’s hips lifted off the bed an inch or two, forcing her to take more of his girth into that sweet mouth of hers. One hand still tangled in her hair, he used the other to cover the one she had wrapped around his cock.

“More,” he urged, tightening his grip so that she would, in turn, tighten hers as well. The pressure was excellent. He stared down at her, barely aware of his half-mast lashes obscuring his view of Scarlet’s divine body—the body of a Goddess. His blunt nails scraped over her scalp, once more encouraging her to engulf more of his cock in the warm moisture her mouth provided. Over and over his hips rose and fell, creating a steady rhythm to help him toward a quicker finish.

Feeling the first ripple of orgasm ripple through his engorged shaft, his hand on the back of her head locked, and he fought to shout. “Scarlet!” It was the only warning he could give her. Unable to control the internal explosions fueling his release, his cock expanded, his seed surging up the length and spilling forth. Quaking, his body twitched and convulsed uncontrollably, wave after wave of electric pleasure ripping through his system. When the last drop of cum escaped, he finally released his vice-like grip on her hair and fell back, panting as the aftershocks of what she’d just given him thrummed in his veins.

“Yes,” he wheezed, stroking her beautiful face. She could stay with him. Nodding his head, he cupped her face between his palms and pulled her up as he leaned forward. His lips just grazed hers before his back collided with the headboard again. Studying her blue eyes, the corners of his lips curved into a satisfied smile. “You can stay, sweetheart.”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet smiled, licking her lips to taste his salty-sweet liquid once more before crawling up to where he laid. Hovering over him, her golden hair falling to the side and her hands resting on either side of him, she gave him a soft smirk before leaning down to kiss him full on the lips, letting him taste himself on her tongue. Her hand reached up and stroked his neck and jaw before pulling away and rolling to his side. Sliding into the chilled sheets, she curled up beside him and rested her head on his shoulder innocently. Blue eyes flashing up at him, she laid her hand on his slender torso.

"Thanks, Isaac," she whispered, her voice light and nearly a whisper. Letting her fingers twirl amongst the thin fabric of his shirt, she let out a sigh as the room virtually darkened with the setting of the sun. Only a small lamp lit the room, but she was not about to move to turn it off. Scarlet was too comfortable in Isaac's arms, not wanting to spoil the moment with a man she had yearned for since she was a little girl. He was as close to what her imagination created as her perfect gentleman as any man could get.

Closing her eyes, she pursed her lips, wondering if it was worth it to break the silence if that meant it would ruin the calm atmosphere around them. Never had she felt so safe in the manor, his arms giving her a false sense of protection. During that moment, Preston had finally slipped her mind, and she was hesitant to bring him back into the topic of conversation.

"I'd feel better if I didn't have to go back to my room tonight," she whispered, not bothering to further explain. Isaac was an intelligent man; he knew why she didn't want to be back in that wing of the house. "I promise not to hog the bed."

Letting out a little giggle, she leaned up and kissed jaw of the the man above her, unable to get enough of his sunny disposition. It made her feel better... Made her feel like the Goddess of the Underworld was no where to be found deep in her soul like people insisted... It made her feel like that maybe she was over thinking her infatuation with Preston; it could be avoided.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Scarlet woke from a dreamless night, smiling instantly at the sight of a sleeping Isaac next to her. Leaning over, she brushed a lock of dark hair from his closed eyes before standing from the bed. Her nipples went erect and goose bumps formed on her skin due to the chilled air of the room, snow a foot deep just outside the window. Stretching and yawning, she rolled her shoulders around and took her time gathering her clothes from the chair next to bed, putting them on with enough care so that no one knew what she was up to the night before.

Not wanting to disturb Isaac, she simply gave him a kiss on the cheek, so soft that her lips barely brushed his skin, and turned for the door. Shutting it quietly, she walked along the corridor and through the living room, trying to avoid running into anyone. There was nothing that made her want to talk about anything that had been going on in the manor with some random inhabitant of home. Last thing she needed was someone else's input or bad news.

Right when the soft gold lights of the Christmas tree came into view, Scarlet practically skidded to a stop. She remembered what Isaac had said about Dr. Haskell giving them gifts, and it caught her curiosity. Kneeling down onto the tree skirt, there were only two presents left. She picked up the smaller present, wrapped with gold paper and red bow, and looked at its tag. In perfect script, it read "Persephone", making her eyebrows furrow slightly.

Sitting with her legs tucked under her, Scarlet carefully tore at the paper. It was so beautiful, she had a hard time ripping the wrapping, not wanting to ruin something delicate. Inside a simple white box sat a slightly smaller blue velvet jewelry box, making her eyes widen. Her fingers brushed over to box, never actually holding a real jewelry case before. It made her heart leap, and it took her a second to coax herself into opening it.

With a click, a gorgeous necklace was revealed to her. She let out a little gasp, her eyes practically sparkling as they looked upon it. Isaac has said that the presents were usually expensive, but this was incredible. Sitting inside the blue velvet box was a sliver necklace, the chain dainty and delicate, holding a beautiful diamond flower. It was so pretty, so innocent, but something about the pure diamonds made it looks different... Cold, even. As if the flower had been frozen in time by the snow the swirled around the manor.

 

[Raivh]

Throughout the night, Isaac was plagued with nightmares, and each one involved Scarlet in some way or another. He woke up twice, panting, only to find he was still wholly intact and Preston was nowhere in sight. Scarlet still slept at his side, her naked form warm and soft beside his own. For a long while, he would lay awake and stare at her face in the dark, admiring the soft, peaceful look of sleep on her pleasant features. He had a difficult time imagining that the dozing girl could be harmful to him in any way, though it had been because of her that he’d wound up under Dr. Haskell’s care in the first place; this was a fact he had shoved far to the recesses of his mind. She was sweet, caring, nothing like Preston, nothing like the God of the Underworld. It was impossible, he thought, that her destiny was twined with that monster’s. But she kept mentioning Preston, and he swore when he’d laid over her, he had seen the sinister man’s green eyes reflected in Scarlet’s hazy blue gaze. Her pleasure, her lust; Isaac wondered if it had really been for him.

When dawn broke, he still dozed; too tired to wake when she roused herself out of bed. His body registered her soft lips against his cheek with a grunt and a sigh, but he didn’t so much as crack open his eyes. There was no concern of Preston’s physical presence in the house. The man had gone off to his cabin for a period of time, and he didn’t often return soon once he’d left. Exhausted, aching, Isaac continued with his deep slumber, enjoying the quiet of the manor in the early hours of morning.

“Do you like it?” Dr. Haskell asked, standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. His eyes observed the expression on Scarlet’s face. “I thought you would, my dear.” Shuffling into the room, he sank down into a chair nearby the tree and motioned for her to have a seat as well. Thoughts of Isaac’s locked door and Scarlet’s absence in the house last night swirled in the old man’s mind, and he breathed out something of a fretful sigh, but covered it up with a warm smile. The fire in the hearth was already burning bright, emitting enough heat to take the chill out of the air in the room.

“Persephone, before she was wed to Hades, was the Goddess of spring. A flower is only befitting, don’t you agree?” Studying the woman’s golden hair and bright blue eyes, Dr. Haskell then turned his gaze to the window. Snow swirled outside, and what was on the ground was thicker where it hadn’t been shoveled. Frost clung to the glass pane that he stared out, and when he returned his focus to Scarlet, his eyebrows were furrowed. “How are you today, Persephone? I mean after Preston’s assault. I’m terribly sorry that it happened.”

He was, but the professor was also curious. The girl had been flushed after the incident, but he hadn’t detected a single ounce of fear in her expression or her hazed over eyes. What he had seen had him believing that the fate of the Gods was more determined than they previously believed. Books upon books had been written describing the relationship of Hades and Persephone. Not one had ever mentioned love; this young woman looked to be a loving type, one in need of gentle care, of a loving man. Isaac was perfect for her, but Eros’ mate from ancient mythology had already been located. The girl was seventeen. In a years’ time, Dr. Haskell wondered if Isaac wouldn’t be falling for another young woman, leaving Scarlet behind and brokenhearted.

“What do you think of Preston?” Perhaps he was pressing her too much, but Preston’s words had been resonating in the professor’s mind for the past day and a half. “Do you find him handsome, despite what he has done to you?” The more he stewed on it, the more Dr. Haskell began to believe that Persephone, the virgin Goddess, was awakening within Scarlet, pointing out that it was a pact, a hated one, but a pact nonetheless, that she was fated to be with Preston, with her husband, Hades. Of course, Hades had been the one to chase Persephone in ancient myth. So if myth and reality were matched one hundred percent, then Preston would have been tailing Scarlet the moment she walked in the manor doors. Instead, he had been avoiding her, abusing her, violating her body, and cursing her very name. Never before had Dr. Haskell felt the true wrath of such a powerful man, but Preston was proving to be quite the dark, brooding fellow; much like his counterpart deity, yet different. There was a difference that Dr. Haskell couldn’t quite pin down.

“Dr. Haskell, you have a phone call,” a servant said, holding a handheld phone out to the old man.

With a smile, the professor accepted it and brought the device to his ear. “Hello?” Pausing, his eyes flashed to Scarlet. “Alright. Is there anything else you would like sent out, Preston?” The man’s voice rumbled on the other end of the line, and when it ceased, Dr. Haskell nodded. “Very well. Goodbye, Preston.” Hanging up, he handed the phone back to the servant.

“Hades would have us send him his hunting equipment. And he suggests he receives it no later than Tuesday. Apparently, there is plenty of seasoning and canned goods, but no ‘good’ meat.” Dr. Haskell explained to the servant. “See to it that he receives what he has requested. Thank you.” Passing off the phone, he returned his attention to Scarlet. “This is a good sign for you, my dear. Preston doesn’t usually return for quite some time when he has his hunting gear with him up in those mountains.”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet slid over into the armchair beside Dr. Haskell, the blue velvet box still resting in her right palm. Her eyes stared at the extravagant necklace as he talked, only flashing up at the sound of Preston's name. Expression remaining stoic, she only raised and eyebrow at the older man.

"Oh," she said, nodding slowly, as if she were letting the thought sink in. "Like... How long?"

She couldn't help wanting to know the amount of time she would not see Preston. It was a reflex, or rather a strong curiosity the brewed in her mind endlessly. His green eyes were burned into her own, and for some unknown reason, she wanted to see them again.

When the doctor asked her what she thought of Preston, her face visibly paled. Biting her bottom lip, she looked back down at the necklace and gave a shrug the way a young child would do when asked why they misbehaved. It took her a few long moments before her eyebrows furrowed, and her blue eyes glanced into the weathered eyes of Dr. Haskell. Swallowing, her teeth letting go of her delicate pink lip.

"You think he hates me?" she countered, her voice hesitant and her eyes innocent. "Or do you think he refuses to be around me because our fate is inevitable?"

Shaking her head, she looked away from the old man, for she could not look at him as he delivered an answer she may not be prepared to hear. Her slendor jaw clenched, and her right hand quickly snapped the jewelry box shut. Holding the necklace close, she sighed.

"He haunts me," she suddenly whispered, her voice nearly inaudible. "Everywhere I go... Ever since I have been here, he's haunted every thought and action I've made."

Her eyes started to get teary, but Scarlet willed herself to stop being such a baby. Looking down, she played with the fabric of her chair, wanting nothing more that comfort from someone who knew what she was dealing with. While Isaac gave her an escape to an extent, she hated seeing the glint of disappointment in his soft brown eyes when she mentioned Preston. It was what made her realize that no matter how much she grew to love Isaac, Preston would always loom over, and she'd lose in the end.

 

[Raivh]

Thinking better of letting Preston’s duration away from the manner out of the box, the professor kept quiet and didn’t respond to her question. Dr. Haskell was well aware of the peculiar bond that tied the two deities together, but he had no idea how strong it was. And the last thing that the manor needed was a police investigation. Not once had they had trouble with the law, and that was how the old man preferred to keep it. Somehow, he had a feeling that Persephone would either wind up taking another escapade in the snow, or finding herself in a rather compromising position with Preston. Already, he’d seen what the malevolent man could do to her—turn her mind to mush and her body to a vulnerable vessel.

Her second question caught him off guard, and he opened his mouth to speak, but she ultimately echoed his response, as if she were a mind-reader. Drawing a deep breath in through his nose, the elderly man leaned back in his seat and watched her with almost a pitying stare. It was what he thought, his theory, and so far, it was proving to be true. She was as curious about Preston as Preston didn’t care to admit he was about her. And all the old man could do was sit back and watch, hope and pray that Preston wouldn’t do a thing like strangle the girl or rape her. He could only imagine the trauma that would instill in the young woman. His gray eyes flitted slowly over her features, noting the glisten of tears in her eyes. This young woman was lost, baffled beyond belief. Looking away from her, Dr. Haskell scanned the ceiling, as if it would help him decide whether to tell her or not.

“He may be up there for a month,” he said slowly, lowering his gaze back to her face. A kind smile warmed his features, and then faded. “Or for a year. He’s spent fifteen years in this manor. Sometimes he likes to go off on his own. I think it does his mood some good, makes him feel like a burden’s been taken off his shoulders. He’s the first, you know. To be reborn. That puts a heavy weight on a man.” Rising to his feet, he patted Scarlet on her shoulder and shuffled across the floor. He paused when he saw Isaac. The man’s brown locks were tousled, his eyes on Scarlet, and an affectionate smile spread over his lips.

“How are you this morning?” he asked, picking up on a hint of dissonance in the room, or perhaps unease. Dr. Haskell exited the room, well aware that he hadn’t been addressed. Wandering over to where Scarlet sat in the room, Isaac took the seat Dr. Haskell had abandoned. “Did you sleep alright last night?” He laughed. “I don’t remember you hogging the bed.”

Smiling, he pushed off the chair and sank down to a squat in front of her. He lifted a hand and gently caressed her cheek. Impulse led him to kiss her, but it was just a light brush of his lips over hers before another voice sounded in the room. “Well, well. Getting a little comfortable with another man’s girl, aren’t you, Eros?” Gregory smirked as he entered with Vivian on his arm. “Scarlet, you better watch out, because if Preston decides he wants you, he’ll have you. He’s fought me for women before, but never done anything close to what he did to Isaac.”

“Greg, let’s go get breakfast. I’m starved,” Vivian said quietly, a hand on her stomach. With a nod to Vivian, and a nod to the group, dismissing himself, the couple left the room, leaving Isaac and Scarlet to themselves.

Isaac’s jaw was tense, and he shook his head. “Preston can’t make you do anything, sweetheart,” he assured her, cupping her face in his hands and leaning up to kiss her forehead. “Why don’t we join everyone in the dining hall?”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet let a faint smile spread across her lips, and she reached up and put her hand over his on her cheek. Her eyes closed to his lips on her forehead, and she relished in the warm feeling he gave her. It was odd how he seemed to take away the pain, yet leave her with an immense guilt of knowing he was just was confused as she.

Blue eyes meeting brown, Scarlet waited until the couple had exited the room. Her cheeks turned pink at the mentioning of Preston "fighting for a girl". Afterall, Scarlet never really thought Preston was fighting for her, but making a point. Never had she thought he actually wanted her... His repulse was enough for her to believe otherwise. Sighing, she looked down at Isaac and shook her head gently.

"I know he can't make me do anything," she said, a stubborn tone in her voice. Clenching her jaw, she took a deep breath and let her lips brush against his. She knew he was only trying to be supportive, to assure her that their relationship was in no danger, but she the fact she knew how wrong he was tainted her will to believe him. "And I'm far from hungry... Go ahead. I can't be seen in last night's clothes anyway. People will talk."

It was a rough excuse, but a decent one. Pushing herself from the chair, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into a standing position. Immediately, she wrapped her arms around him lean waist and rest her head on his chest. Her eyes closed as she held him close. "Isaac? I know this may be out of the question," she whispered, her eyes still closed and her cheek pressed firmly to his chest. "But... Do you think you could drive me to town? I'd love the change of scenery, but I can't drive. Another thing my mother didn't care for me to do..."

A frown settled on her face, and she thought of what Dr. Haskell said. Preston could be gone for months... Even a year. And in the pit of Scarlet's stomach sat a feeling of disappointment. It scared her, for the answer he gave her should have been one to bring her joy, but it only gave her a strong sense of detachment.

 

[Raivh]

Three days passed since Preston made his call to the manor, and when he made his second, Dr. Haskell informed him that Isaac had taken Scarlet into town; they were bringing his hunting gear out to him. That was enough for Preston to go off. He shouted, bellowed at the top of his lungs to cancel his request. He didn’t want her finding out where he went when he needed to get away from every moron in that place. Hell wasn’t millions of miles below the earth; it was only about fifty miles away and several thousand feet lower in altitude. With clenched teeth, Preston shoved past the door, growling “Move” under his breath to the servant that opened the door for him. In a foul mood didn’t begin to describe the shadows of anger and malevolence swirling in Preston’s green eyes.

Strong, long legs carried him up the stairs, and he was back down them in a matter of minutes, Cerberus at his heels. The dog needed to go outside, since he hadn’t before they’d taken off that morning for the manor. Barking, the black pitbull plunged into the snow, burying his snout in the white powder and sniffing around. “Hurry up!” Preston shouted. Pointed ears flat against his head, Cerberus lifted his snout and stared over at his master. Taking a step forward, Preston only had to jerk his hand from his pocket before the canine wandered over to one of the cars parked in the lot and hiked his leg. Preston’s vicious gaze scanned the area and stared toward the gate, cursing the very hour that woman would return. This was her fault. She was responsible for his undesired and early return. She and that damned God of Love, Eros. If one kick to the stomach hadn’t done the man in, then more extreme measures needed to be taken next time. “Let’s go! Inside!”

Sitting in the living room, a fire crackling in the hearth, Preston skimmed through a book on Eros. He was already aware of the God’s fated lover, Psyche, as was he also aware that the girl had been found. Dark plans brewed in his head, and thunder rolled in his chest, parting his lips as a growl. Cerberus snapped his head up when the door down the hall opened, signaling the arrival of someone. Skittering to his feet, the dog barreled into the corridor and ran up it, greeting Scarlet with happy, high-pitched barking and several wet licks. It wasn’t until the animal jumped up on her, happily wagging his tail, that Preston appeared in the hallway. There was no smirk on his face, no evidence that he was happy to see his wife of ancient Greece. In fact, his stare wasn’t even on her; it was on Isaac, and it was scorching with the hottest flames of hate. Jaw tense, tendons twitching, he stalked toward the two younger individuals.

Gradually, his stare shifted to Scarlet, but the moment he opened his mouth to speak, Isaac did the same. “Don’t touch her, Preston. Her bruises are just now starting to fade. She doesn’t want anymore, and I won’t stand to see you abuse her.” Coming from a beanpole, Preston found that amusing, even allotted the remark a dry laugh. A moment of silence passed before he lunged forward, balling the front of Isaac’s shirt in his hands.

Visibly grinding his teeth, Preston wheeled right and shoved Isaac against the wall. The front door was still open, letting in a frigid draft. Jumping back, the servant looked unsure whether he should interfere or not. “I could make it so you can’t stand at all, so I suggest you choose your threats more wisely, Eros. Because unless you can struggle away right now, I’ll squeeze the last breath out of you the next time you threaten me.” Expression firm, Isaac scrunched his face up angrily and jerked his hands up, grasping Preston’s wrists. He was unsuccessful at shoving Preston off until the man loosened his hold, and even then, he only was released because Preston decided to do so. Isaac smelled heavily of Scarlet, and she of him. Facing her, his next target, he grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked her forward, stepping toward her at the same moment. Their bodies collided, and he felt the give of her soft breasts against his chest as he held her in place.

“What have you been doing with your hero, Persephone? You seem close. It’s almost as if you’ve fallen in love,” Preston snarled in her face. He heard Isaac step forward, but before the man could so much as lay a hand on him, Preston reached back. Looking over his shoulder as Isaac’s features contorted in absolute agony, Preston tightened his grip to a vice. “Have you fallen in love, Persephone? Does this man make you…” he trailed off, smirking as he released his hold on the front of Isaac’s jeans, relieving the dangerous pressure that threatened to burst the man’s testicles. “Happy?”

Exhaling, Preston tilted his head to the side, ignoring Isaac as he lay wheezing on the cold stone floor. A wicked smile tweaked the corners of his mouth as he stepped forward, looming over her, an ominous presence determined to flood her soul with fear until she quaked. “How many times have you thought about me since I’ve been away? Did you enjoy my touch the last time we encountered?” Pressing her against a nearby wall, his hand slithered between them, fingers sliding over the slight curve of her lower abdomen and slipping inside the front of her pants. The calloused tip of his middle finger rasped over her clit, his hand snug between her skin and her panties. Lust flashed in his eyes as his tongue flicked out, wetting his lips, and he dropped his stare to where his hand was.

Looking her in the eyes, he retracted his hand and stepped back. Isaac was on all fours, struggling to get to his feet. A quick hand flew up, and he grabbed her chin. His green eyes narrowed, burning into her blue eyes. His nostrils were flared, the scent of Isaac on her enough to issue forth his wrath. Something about her, he felt, was deserving of punishment. Without warning, he struck her hard across the face. The next instant he was dragging Isaac to his feet and shoving the man at Scarlet.

“Take him upstairs. Fuck him. See if he satisfies you,” Preston challenged.

“Preston.” Dr. Haskell approached. The display of dominance was animalistic in nature and unnecessary. Isaac was still in pain, his expression still twisted up. He’d moved away from Scarlet to lean against the wall, clutching his groin as if it would stop the pain. “Isaac, are you alright? You look pale.”

Isaac nodded, his teeth gritted together. “I’ll be fine.” Staring at Scarlet, and listening to Dr. Haskell as he checked Isaac over, Preston stepped forward, closing the space between them. His hands closed over her hips, roughly dragging her toward him. Both men stopped their conversation to witness Preston’s large hands rip the front of Scarlet’s jeans open with ease and take her to the ground right in the entryway. Flipping her onto her stomach, he violently tugged her pants down to her knees and jerked her hips into the air, angling them for entry. Quickly, his fingers worked to undo the button and zipper of his jeans, freeing a thick, heavily veined erection, which he pressed against the clenched tissue of her warm, wet folds, before he was pulled away by Dr. Haskell and three servants who had seen what was happening and rushed over.

Shoving them off, chest heaving with ragged breaths, Preston only laughed as he righted himself, jeans surrounding his ankles and cock jutting out, the very tip of it glistening with her moisture. He chuckled again as he bent to yank his jeans to his hips, zipping and buttoning them up once more. The rough fabric wasn’t comfortable, nor was it half as warm as the heat that had radiated from her. Dr. Haskell was yelling. His wrinkled old face was red with anger. Isaac was leaned against the wall, a hand still clutching the front of his jeans as he stared at Scarlet. The man was pale, as if he hadn’t had any guts to respond at all to what had just happened.

Preston snorted. “One day, they won’t be around to stop me, and I’ll fuck you until you’ve screamed enough your throat turns raw and you can’t cry anymore.” Heading toward the stairs, he vanished, leaving Cerberus behind with the crowd.

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet felt humilated, her face red and her eyes stinging with tears. Slowly, she got to her knees and pulled her knees back up, trying to cover herself despite the rips in the fabric. As she stood to her feet, she looked over at Isaac, her eyes filled with guilt. Shock was still running through her veins at the sign of Preston's return, for the past week Scarlet had come to terms that she would not be seeing him for a while. After all, wasn't she the one who was the key to his damnation? It was reasonable for him to want to be away from her, and it was becoming increasingly obvious to Scarlet that Preston's anger drew him to her. The angrier she made him, the more forceful and apparent his presence was. This time, standing in the entry way of the manor with a handful of witnesses, it was certain he was planning to rape her. It gave her chills, and her throat felt tight as she remembered the feeling of the head of his cock pressing against her opening before he was restrained. There was no doubt in her mind that he was not planning on stopping, especially when she turned to see her juices glisenting the head of his cock in triumph. He had gotten that much closer... Closer to taking her for himself, and closer to becoming the God of the Underworld he was destined to be.

His voice boomed through the halls as he left, making Scarlet jump. Looking over at Isaac with a sympathetic glance, she slowly approached him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Isaac," she whispered, "Are you okay?" Her eyes looked over him, knowing that he wasn't particularly okay at the moment, and she was probably the last person he wanted to speak with. Looking over at Dr. Haskell, she frowned and shook her head. Her eyes were red with salty tears. "I'm going to my room... I... I need a shower." Her voice was shakey, and she caressed Isaac's shoulder once more before turning quietly for the stairs without another word. She had to get out of that room; away from Dr. Haskell's knowing eyes and the guilt Isaac's pain gave her.

Oddly enough, she wasn't thinking about washing Preston from her skin, but the guilt she harbored. Why did she keep dragging Isaac into this? She knew why. Because deep down, she knew it made Preston angry, and what ever part of her ached for his presence, was aware that his anger brought them closer.

After showering, the steam rolling from the bathroom and fogging the mirrors, Scarlet slowly dried her hair and let it hang in waves. Applying more makeup than normal, even a blood red lipstick, she looked at herself in the mirror... Was she really the Goddess of the Underworld? Was she a fit match for someone like Preston or Hades. Tying a knee length black robe around her frame, she opened her door and looked to see if anyone was around. It had been hours since the incident in the hall, and she had been thinking over her reaction admist the hot water all day. Part of her wanted to stay in her room, lock the door, and cry. Part of her wanted to go to Isaac, have him hold her and tell her everything would be fine. But part of her wanted to look into those violent, lustful green eyes. She wanted him to take her, to want her more than anything else. She wanted him to let Hades take over and take what was rightfully his, because in the end, she wanted him to realize what an upperhand she had. He may hate her, but he longed for her in some cruel way in their past life. Despite how much he despised her, how he could easily overpower her, Scarlet knew she held something he wanted; or atleast something that Hades wanted.

Stepping out in the hall in just her black silk robe, Scarlet walked hesitantly across the hall, toward his room. She was determined, but scared, for she knew this could be a breaking point. This was her way of showing she had a position in the battle, that she was not just a punching bag, but it could also be the one thing that sealed a fate she knew nothing of. The cool air of the manor made her nipple erect beneath the thin fabric, her cleavage on display for him. She was barefoot, and the rob only went about mid thigh, leaving her legs exposed and vulnerable.

Knocking, Scarlet rubbed her red lips together as she waited for him to answer, and to her surpise, she remained very calm... As if this was what she had been waiting for.

 

[Raivh]

His attack on Scarlet had done nothing but fuel him for release. With the image of her in mind, on all fours before him, red-faced and teary-eyed, Preston immediately shucked off his clothes and stalked to the bathroom. He ripped the curtain aside and slapped on knobs, sending scalding hot water sputtering out of the showerhead before the stream leveled out into steady lines of water. His mind was spinning with the scent of her, but when he thought of Isaac’s cologne lingering on Scarlet’s clothing, the heat of his anger returned. It was in that fury that he worked himself to release, the same as he had several days ago when his thoughts drifted to fucking her. When he finished, lungs inflating and causing his broad chest to heave, he stared at the tile wall with a furrowed brow and narrowed green eyes. Something about that woman—her beauty, her body, her attitude—no, the goddess that resided in her soul, made him want her. He wanted to see her writhing as he took her ruthlessly. It didn’t matter where he fucked her, the position, or whether or not she consented to it, his soul, the God of the Underworld, Hades, wanted to brand Scarlet so that no other man would be able to have her the same way again. He desired her virginity, to tear through that barrier and watch her face contort with anguish.

Then, when he had her completely at his lack of mercy, he would forge his way into her body without thought or care what sensations it would bring her. “Enough!” Preston growled, slamming his hands down on the knobs and shutting the water off so quickly the silver showerhead shuddered. He was growing hard again thinking about her. Wet feet slapped over the cold bathroom floor as he came to stand in front of the mirror. His expression was hard, but he saw the same image he did every time he delved deep into his mind, searching for Hades. The dark God smirked back at him, his body draped over a sleeping Persephone, her body bare, exposed, as they lay in a large bed surrounded by crag and fire.

With a roar, Preston thrust his fist into the reflective glass, shattering it into several shards that rained down onto the marble countertop and the hard floor. His bleeding knuckles did little to faze him as he stormed back into his room, dressing quickly and shutting the door behind him as he entered the hall. Thundering down the stairs, he blatantly ignored Dr. Haskell’s attempt to accost him about what he’d done to Scarlet today. There were many, many images swarming Preston’s mind of acts similar or worse to what he’d done to her in the entryway. The professor didn’t know what he was capable of, or how little he cared to degrade the woman before the eyes of others, as long as it was him she was beneath or being forced to ride. In the kitchen, he found a bottle of exactly what he’d been looking for, and willing that a good dose of its contents would drown out the visuals that continued to give him a hard-on.

“Preston!” Dr. Haskell’s voice echoed in Preston’s ears again as he gathered up a variety of glass bottles to satiate his need to drink. Feeling the old man’s hands trying to steal away the alcohol Preston had gathered, he jerked back. More hands joined, and before Preston could fight them all off, he’d been relieved of his bottles of rum, tequila, and Everclear. Forced from the kitchen with great efforts from several men, Dr. Haskell stood panting in the doorway. “Alcohol is the last thing you need tonight!” Turning his head back in the doorway, he called to the staff. “Get rid of it!”

“You can’t deny a man his right to drink!” Preston bellowed, his face red and veins throbbing in his forehead.

Dr. Haskell stood his ground against the large man, feigning that Preston’s taut biceps weren’t daunting. “I can. And I will. You nearly raped that young woman today, Hades. There’s no telling what you would do if I allowed you to drink.” His voice was calm, his eyes focused on Preston’s heaving shoulders. “I suggest you return to your room and sleep off this wretched behavior.” The dark, ominous nature of Hades had grown more apparent in Preston since the day Scarlet had arrived than it had in all fifteen years he’d lived in the manor. With a great amount of ire pouring from Preston’s glare, the man turned and moved toward the stairs. Cerberus appeared behind him and followed Preston up to his room.

Hours later, when Preston heard a knock at his door, the man was lying naked in bed, his brow knitted low over his hateful eyes as he stared up at the mural of Hades and Persephone that seemed to glow overhead. He didn’t answer, didn’t care who was at the door. Cerberus was up, his tail wagging and tongue lolling from the side of his jowl. Whining, the animal pawed at the carpet in front of the door, and Preston sat up slowly, staring at the dog. A few moments passed in silence before he shifted in bed again, casting the blankets and bed sheets aside, and grabbing a pair of jeans on the way to the door. He pulled the denim to his hips just before spinning the deadbolt and yanking the door open, it caught on the chain, and Preston’s green eyes stared out into the dimly lit hallway. Shadows were cast on Scarlet’s face, but he could clearly see her blue eyes. His stare travelled no further than her face, and he gritted his teeth.

That burning in the back of his skull took place again, clouding his eyes and his judgment. He could remember the smell of Isaac on her clothes and skin when he’d pinned her to that wall, and then when he’d taken her to the ground and nearly fucked her in the entryway with the front door ajar. Slamming the door shut in her face, he quickly undid the chain. Once the door was open, he hauled her inside and closed it, spinning the lock and returning the chain to its place. If alcohol wouldn’t put an end to the images that continued to haunt him, maybe watching her breathe her last would. Gripping her throat, thumbs digging into her trachea, he stared her in the eyes. His nostrils were flared and his breathing was quickening, face twitching as he stood there, set on strangling her to death. Licking his lips, his eyes moved from hers, sweeping down.

The crease of her breasts stayed his stare, and a rush of carnal desire coursed through his veins. The more he looked, the greater this desire became, and he released his hold on her throat so that his hands could easily tear open the front of her robe. Without resistance, the thin black fabric fell open, and his green eyes roved over every inch of newly exposed bare flesh. “Offerings no longer appease the gods,” he spoke quickly, gripping her chin as his eyes locked on the soft patch of curls between her legs. Jerking his glance to hers, he sneered. “There is no reward for coming to me like this.”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet gasped when he pushed her robe open, letting it flutter to the floor to be forgotten. Staying still, she looked into his green eyes, mesmerized by the darkness that swirled around in them. Never had she felt so turned on by a simple look; his glare casting down on her with anger and lust. The forbidden, taboo aspect of their relationship was what heated her body, knowing she was not supposed to be the girl that is drawn to men like him. He was a monster; a beast. He could tear her apart, take her life. His hands around her neck just moments ago proved that, yet she didn't struggle. She wanted him to know she came willingly, knowing the consequence.

Panting from him cutting off her source of breathing just few seconds prior, her eyes swirled with lust, looking up at him with a sense of darkness that had never been present before. Her eyes were always pure, innocent, but she appeared very different this time. It was as if she were egging him on, wanting to feel more of his brute force upon her. In fact, she was egging him on.

A smirk slid across her face, tainting her lips with a reflection of his own darkness. "I wasn't an offering," she retorted, trying to keep her composure. The last thing she wanted to do was show fear. She was done with being fearful, and weak. "In fact, I thought I'd come let you know I was planning on following your advice... I was on my way to Isaac's room." The cool air of the room made her nipples harden, and it craved the heat of his body that was inches from her's. In a daring move, she let her hand creep up his thigh, the end of her middle finger grazing the fabric of his pants all the way up to his hardened member. Suppressing a groan, her eyes flashed downward and she let the palm of her hand run across his cock. "I should let him fuck me, shouldn't I?" she whispered, taunting the anger in those haunting green eyes. "I should let him take me. It wouldn't fair for you to deflower me two lifetimes in a row, would it?"

Her smirk was daring, and she felt a spark of something within. It was natural, this teasing she was doing. The feeling of egging him on, making him angrier and more lustful for her body gave her a sense of power. In fact, it turned her on. It made the sensitive area between her legs moisten and tingle at the thought that she drawing the God of the Underworld out of the man before her. Persephone's loomed over him, tempting and taunting him to take what he knew was his; what had always been his. It gave Scarlet satisfaction to feel she had some kind of upper hand to his emotions, just as he did her's.

"Would it?" she repeated, her hand still on his hardened member beneath his jeans. Her eyebrow arched right before her sapphire orbs glanced at the locked door, knowing there was no longer a way out of her own doing now.

 

[Raivh]

Everyone knows tempting the devil is dangerous play, and Scarlet was one step closer to drawing the darkest part of Hades from Preston. His heartbeat was steady, not daunted by her advances or her sultry voice. However, a low growl started deep in his gut, working its way to his chest where it stayed, thrumming over and over again. A strong wolf staring a cunning fox in the eyes, he didn’t know what she was up to, not entirely. He could only assume. She mentioned Isaac and Preston’s body went rigid from head to toe. His lips firmed into a thin line as he clenched his teeth together, grinding away at the enamel. His eyes were no longer directly on her, but stared just to the right, locked on the door while visions of her body contorted in various positions clouded his mind. She wouldn’t reach Isaac’s room.

Gradually, his breathing quickened, and he wasn’t snapped out of his thoughts until she cupped him, her hand running over his hardened cock. On impulse, he ground into her hand. His green eyes were fixated on hers once more, intent on getting into her mind before he lost control completely. Or before he decided he wanted inside her skin, or at the very least impaling her on his length, burying it deep inside her. Her words danced around inside his mind, taunting him, tempting him, goading him to do exactly what he knew would damn him. He could feel the heat of her hand, the pressure her touch offered his throbbing erection. The shifting of her stare from his eyes to the lock was when his hand moved, striking her hand away from the denim and bronze that concealed his arousal.

Quickly he undid the button on the front of his jeans, the zipper didn’t so much as feign an ability to withhold the steely force of his thick cock. Wrenching her from the door, he did much the same as he had the last time she’d entered his room, and flung her to the floor. No more than a breath later, he gave her a shove was over her, grabbing hold the undersides of her knees and forcing them high until her body was V-ed. The look in his eyes was unmistakable and dark, purely primitive. Cerberus barked, baring his teeth at Preston, who ignored the racket and instead stared down at Scarlet’s face. A wicked smile tweaked the edges of his lips as he fitted himself at her entrance, the throbbing of his thick cock growing stronger with each passing second, and his balls growing tighter heavier.

“You shouldn’t have knocked on my door, Scarlet. And you should have kept your mouth closed…” He thrust, forging deep inside of her, the flared head of his shaft rasping against her slick passage and tearing past her hymen. Giving her no time to adjust, he withdrew, and forced her knees closer to her ears at the same instant he surged forward again, hips slamming against her. A groan rolled through his chest and out his mouth, tumbling into the air. Electric pulses ran through his body. She was excruciatingly tight, a virgin vice rippling around his cock.

Leaning over her, letting his weight force her into the carpet, his member deeper inside her body, he sneered. His breathing was ragged, pleasured. His eyes full of demented lust. “You’re not going anywhere until I throw you out.” Retreating from the warm, tight clasp of her inner walls, he could smell blood in the air. When he drove into her again, the pace he set was unrelenting. He pounded into her, green eyes open and staring down at her face, features taut as pleasure wracked his body. This woman was defiant, stubborn, and needed to be taught a lesson about opening her mouth and how little Preston cared to hear her speak.

Releasing her knees to let her legs fall to the floor as his movements became jerky, nearing his finish, he gripped her hips and lifted them off the floor, adjusting and rising to his knees. His goal wasn’t her finish, wasn’t to know that he’d satisfied her. He only wanted to feel the rush of his seed surging up his length. Eyebrows furrowed, grunts and groans leaving him, he realized somewhere in his subconscious the spilling inside her could mean complications. His eyes flashed to hers, and he stilled, nearly completely out of her body, straining not to move as every muscle in his body tensed and he fought the urge to come. This was the devil’s wife, and he’d just played the role of a pawn. Cold air surrounded the glistening flesh of his engorged cock, and the command in his mind was stern. Thrust Burying balls-deep inside of her, knuckles white as he held onto her hips, his shaft expanded and burst, flooding her womb with his sperm.

Chest heaving, he held her there, milking his length inside of her, until every last drop filled her, and then he slid out. Rising to his feet, he stared down at her, cursing her with his eyes while a malicious grin spread over his face. “Get up,” he commanded, stroking his dick. In a moment, he would fuck her again. He would take her until she was too sore to move, and then he would dump her off, naked, in the hall in front of Isaac’s room. “On your stomach on the bed.” Taking a deep breath, he jerked his neck to the right, popping it. “This was your decision.”

 

[Blair1216]

A scream ripped through Scarlet's through as she felt him enter her, breaking the thin barrier that had marked her an innocent virgin moments ago. Pain wracked through her body, and she couldn't believe how large his member felt inside her. The sounds of her shrieks bounced off the walls of his room and echoed through the manor as her head fell back, letting her blonde hair cascade around her like an ironic halo. It was only then when he took her, marked her as his, that she realized the consequences of her actions. She taunted him, angered him into fucking her brutally. It scared Scarlet; knowing that he had so much force on her. She was his now in a twisted way, and there was no way to reverse it. Yet, what scared her more was the fact that this violent act was turning her on. The pain was excruciating, but she found her sound reaching up and grabbing his forearms as he held her legs in place. Her nails dug in to his flesh, breaking the skin. Her screams never ceased, but they turned to moans. The stabbing pain was still there, but the friction was giving her a feeling she never knew existed. Soon, her eyes were looking into his, her hands squeezing his arms, and her mouth was open as she panted with his thrusts. Hearing him moan and grunt gave her pleasure, knowing that she was giving him something he proved unable to resist, and it wasn't long before her moans were matching his, loud enough for any passerby to know exactly what was being done to her.

Due to his frantic, selfish pace, everything ended too quickly for her to get her own release. She was nearly crying in frustration, tears rolling down her soft cheeks from a mixture of being hurt and deprived of what she needed most at the moment. When his seed pour inside her, she bit her lip enough to make it bleed into her mouth and tried to push her worry of the consequences out of her mind. It wasn't hard, even after all the lectures her mother gave her on sex, for the pleasure of feeling it within her was too great to think of much else. Not only was she his now, but she held part of him within her. He marked her to the highest degree, and there was no turning back. Her chest heaved as he rode his climax out, eyes squinting shut as she concentrated on his movements. As her legs fell to the floor, her hands slid from his arms to his back, feeling the rippling muscles beneath his skin. It made her visible shudder.

Scarlet's blue eyes popped open when he withdrew from her, and she whined slightly at the loss of his touch. Looking up at him as he stood to his feet, triumph on his face, she panted heavily, her breasts heaving with passion. She pulled her self up a sitting position and looked down between her legs, seeing blood on the floor beneath her. Her eyes widened slightly, yet still swirled with a dark, unnatural amount of lust at the sight of it. Eyes glancing up at him, she hesitated, knowing that her legs felt too weak to stand. At the sound of his popping neck, she tensed, and slowly pulled herself up and over to the bed, whimpering at the pain she felt within her newly opened pussy. It ached for his cock, wanting it's warmth once again.

She obeyed him, climbing the middle of his bed and holding herself up on her hands and knees, her legs spread wide out behind her. Looking over her shoulder, she eyes him stroking his cock, and she licked her lips at the sight of it glistening with her own arousal. Her eyes glanced up at his, her cheeks pink, and she arched an eyebrow. "I thought you were disgusted by my presence," she whispered, her lips twisting into a smirk. Something at taken over her, aching for his brutal force, wanting him to fuck her relentlessly. The Goddess within wanted her husband to take her like he had before, forcing Scarlet to let out a little moan. It was as if she was not in control of her body anymore. "Looks like I was wrong... Huh, I didn't even have to beg." Her voice came out in little pants, and her back arched subconsciously.

 

[Raivh]

Weak or not, she would rise or he would strike, and strike her hard. His pupils were dilated, shrouding the green of his irises in black. Hearing her pained whimper, he scowled, staring down into her eyes as she lifted herself up and moved toward the large bed. If a soft, pleasurable experience had been what she was seeking, then she should have rapped on Isaac’s door. The man was too caring, too tentative of Scarlet’s every tear and cry for help, to fuck her brutally. Making sweet, slow love wasn’t on Preston’s agenda. Once she was situated on the bed, positioned on her hands and knees, he began to stalk toward her. The earthy smell of sex hung in the air, mingling with the metallic hint of virginal blood. It was intoxicating, rotting his mind from the inside out, turning his soul blacker than black, darker than the darkest night.

Seeing her smirk, he snarled, baring his teeth like the uncivilized beast he had become. He grabbed her ankles, jerking her knees out from under her, and hauled her toward the end of the bed. When he was able to reach her shoulders, he grasped them tightly between his strong hands, flipping her over. The position she’d been in initially hadn’t been the one he demanded, and while he now had another in mind, he punished her for it with a sharp slap against her mound. Her commentary about his distaste for having her around and his disregard for making her beg was enough to receive a second slap. He gripped her chin, pulling her face up so they were eye to eye. His stare dropped to her crimson lips, but he had no desire to kiss her.

“You don’t look like you’re in any condition to beg,” he growled, sneering. “Stay.” Pushing her away, he glanced to the desk not far off and strode over to it. Cerberus was in his way, and he kicked at the dog, sending the animal hurtling for a far corner of the room to cower and growl. The animal was visibly upset, sensing his master’s intentions were nothing but dark, nothing but cruel. Preston returned with a sturdy rope, the end of which he snapped before Scarlet’s face, a grin stretched over his own features. If pleading for a release that she wouldn’t have was what she aimed to do, that was a game he could play. Snatching both of her wrists, he bound them with the rope.

“I can make you beg.” Carnal desire in his eyes, he smirked at her, crawling up on the bed and over her until his hardened cock was above her face, throbbing and littered with heavy, dark veins. With a swift tug, having laced the rope around one of the iron bars of the headboard, he dragged her body further up the bed by her wrists, as if she were a bucket being hoisted into the air by a pulley. He tied a firm knot, making sure that it wouldn’t come free, and then he swung his leg over her, landing on the floor with a solid thud. Fixing his stare on her exposed body, her arms stretched above her, he came to stand at the end of the bed. Her legs were free for now, but if she dared clench her thighs, he would bind one ankle at a time, forcing her to expose her wet cunt to the air and his eyes. Tilting his head, he decided to do it anyway, turned, leaving her as she was, and went to the closet door.

Opening it, he pulled the trunk across the carpet and into the opening. With the silver key he’d used to lock away the books on Persephone, he unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid. Inside was a leash he’d once used to train Cerberus. Made of leather, it was strong and would hold. Cursing, unable to find anything more, he wandered back over to the bed and set about immobilizing at least one of her legs. He fastened one end around her ankle, the other to the iron foot of the bed, angling her somewhat diagonally on the mattress. Once she was restrained, completely at his mercy for pain or pleasure, he took two of his fingers and parted her labia. He ran the rough tips on either side of her clit, all the way down to the clenched opening of her pussy.

“As much fun as it was hearing you scream, I equally enjoyed seeing tears in your eyes,” he mused, stroking her as he would a cat, always with light pressure, never touching her clit directly, never plunging his fingers inside of her. “The look of frustration on your face. You didn’t get to finish, did you?” He didn’t have to ask, he was already aware that she hadn’t reached orgasm. Tracing the inside of her thigh with the same hand that had been toying with her overly saturated slit, he lifted her leg up at the knee, forcing it straight up. Tongue pressed to the underside of her thigh, he tasted the sweat from the first time he’d fucked her. It was a rich flavor of feminine arousal. His eyes flitted to the display of her wet cunt, and he moistened his lips. It would be more potent to taste her there, but it would bring her too much pleasure, too much bliss.

 

[Blair1216]

An animalistic groan racked through Scarlet's chest and throat at the feeling of his tongue sliding against the underside of her thigh. It sent chills up her legs, between her legs, and all the way up her spine. Back arching, she pulled at her restrained, moaning for him to get a little closer, pity her for just a second. Her eyes squinted tightly shut at the feeling, not wanting it to cease, basking in the torture it gave her. She felt dirty having her limps tied down, as if she were a prisoner. However, she didn't think he realized how willing of a participant she was by this point. Her chest was heaving, her blonde hair in a messy around her. When her blue eyes opened to make contact with his green ones, the whites of her eyes were rimmed red from the tears she shed just moment ago because of the long forgotten pain of her virginity.

Legs visibly trembling, slick from sweat, arousal, and his tongue, she was growing violently impatient. Her wrist pulled at the rope so hard, it was rubbing her soft skin raw. "Preston!" she shrieked, no hesitance in her tone. "Preston, please!" She'd resulted to begging, pulling and sobbing. Her body was on fire, her cheeks pink and her hair line damp. His touch was like nothing she had ever felt before, yet with a hint of familiarity; it's dominance so arousing that it was difficult for her to breath. Breaking eye contact, she looked up at the ceiling, and it was then that she noticed the mural above his bed. Hades and Persephone stared down at them, the former looking at her with the same haunting gaze as Preston, yet holding an arrogance that made it even more daunting, and the latter giving her the look of longing that she was sure was mirrored in her own blue orbs.

It was then that Scarlet realized she was not destined for a Prince Charming, that Isaac was a fling that brought her happiness, but would only end when his own fate showed up at the manor. She was something that he believed was deserving of his unconditional care, but she knew that was not the case. Her presence was for Preston, and only Preston, despite how much she believed he wished she never existed. Her destiny was raw lust, violence, and the feeling of holding on to someone for the slightest chance they would show her affection. Her mother would be ashamed.

"God, stop torturing me!" she shrieked, her voice holding a mixture of frustration and passion. Something in her mind was screaming at her, a voice she didn't recognize, and it was begging her to get closer to him, to kiss him, to inflict something on him. The voice was begging her, longing for a lost partner. However, Scarlet could do nothing within her bindings, completely relying on him.

 

[Raivh]

Each moan, groan, and whimper that left her lips on a desperate note fanned the flames of his already predatory stare, his hunger for her doubling with each second that passed into minutes. Still he continued his slow torture, gradually making his way up to the back of her knee. She seemed anxious. He could feel each tremor that rocked her body, the gentle spasm of her skin beneath his tongue. By the time he reached the lean muscle of her calf, she was shouting his name, pleading for mercy when he had none to bestow upon her. Shifting his eyes from her face when she peered up at the mural, he paused a moment to sneer, and dropped his head back down a few inches. Again, her shrill voice pierced his ears, breaking his concentration for just a fraction of a second. Furrowing his brow, he opened his mouth wider and pressed his teeth against the back of her calf. Pain wouldn’t do any good at the moment, so he didn’t bite her; instead, he gently grazed his teeth over her skin, wetted it with a flick of his tongue, and drew on it for a moment with his lips. When he finished there, he set her leg back down and pushed it far from her other leg.

“You’re begging now,” he stated in a husky tone. “Keep your leg right where it is. I’m not near finished yet.” Placing his hands over the joint where her legs met her hips, he used his thumbs to part her labia, exposing her wet pussy to the cold air. His eyes met hers, and he lowered his head at an agonizingly slow pace, keeping eye contact until he was only inches away from the slick sheen of moisture on soft pink skin. Staring at her clit, the bulbous little nub swollen in invite, Preston brushed the tip of his nose just barely against soft curls. He drew in a deep breath, filling his lungs with the humid scent of her arousal, and when he exhaled, he blew a pointed stream of air directly onto the hypersensitive bud. Slowly, he lifted his head, letting the gust sift between the curls covering her mons and spill onto her stomach.

“You want me to fuck you again?” he questioned, sliding up on the bed. Hovering over her, his face a good six inches out of her reach, he smirked and reached his arm back. With a firm grip, he drew her free leg up. “Are you sure you’re ready?” Tilting his head, he glanced down at his steely cock as it bobbed in anticipation, craving to be balls-deep inside her just as much as she wanted him to be. Instead, guiding his tip to the entrance of her body as he had the first time he’d taken her, he barely fed her an inch. Grinning down at her, he held her hips down with his free hand, not allowing her the ability to buck her hips and draw him into her warm and ready channel.

“I could sit here, just like this, watching you suffer.” Another twenty seconds passed and he permitted another inch of his thick cock to venture forward. “Never let you find satisfaction.” Gritting his teeth, veins bulging along his neck, he slammed his hips against hers and then wrenched his length free of her. It glimmered once more with the natural lubricant her body produced. Moving his hand away from her hip, still holding her other leg, he caressed her cheek.

“You don’t need release, do you? You’re content like this.” His hand slid to her breast, and his palm only grazed the soft flesh, hovering as his fingers curled to gently stroke her.

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet held her breath as the feeling of him sucking at her calf, his teeth grazing dangerously over her skin, and and she arched her back, pushing her breast toward the ceiling. Pulling at the restraints, feeling her skin burn with the contact of the rope, she groaned and looked up at him as he started to move over her.

"Preston," she whimpered, his name playing on her tongue with an odd sense of familiarity. As if she had screamed it out before... When he grabbed her leg, she hooked it around his hip, groaning at the feeling of her calf against the muscles on his back. His body was so hot, it left her blood boiling, and the only thing she could do was relish in it.

A scream racked through her body at the contact of his cock inching inside her, and it left her nearly sobbing, her shoulders shaking and her eyes shut tightly, silently begging for more. When he plunged inside of her, the sound that came from her was unnatural and unrecognizable, yet so loud she was sure it echoed through the manor. "Yes, I'm ready!" she answered, opening her eyes and glaring at him in frustration. Her pussy clenched at the sudden loss when he withdrew, and her eyes rolled back in her head at the gentle touch of his carress. It was odd how quick he could go fromt torturing to nearly gentle, and her stomach fluttered at the feeling. It wasn't like when Isaac caressed her cheek, gentle and expected. No, when Preston did it, it left her aching for him, for she would never know when she would receive that small amount of affection again.

Her red rimmed blue eyes looked up into his with desperation, studying his emotions and begging him to come closer; just wanting his face to come toward her's. Why, she didn't know, but while his hand stroked her gently, her lips ached for his just as much as her pussy ached for his cock.

"Stop teasing me," she whispered, "You know you want me as much as I want you."

 

[Raivh]

“You’re presumptuous.” His retort was quick and spoken in a low, dark tone. But she was correct. Never before had he wanted to consume a woman, body and soul, as he did Scarlet. Hot, liquid fire raced through his veins, seeming to replace the blood, and made his heart pump hard and fast.

Anyone could see how visibly worked up the woman lying on his bed was, her blonde hair framing the desperate, flustered look painted on slender, flushed her features. Taking a deep breath, chest expanding, he averted his eyes from her and settled them on the rise and fall of her breasts. Too tempting was the need to draw the two tempting, pointed pink peaks at the center of each breast into his mouth, worry them with his tongue, and make her scream again. He knew her body was ready to accept his again, more than ready. His heavy cock throbbed, and before he could think, he was unfastening what bound her ankle to the bed so that she had some mobility.

“Sit up!” he barked, impatient to have her slick, tight silken walls clamping down on his painfully engorged shaft. “On your knees, legs spread!” He would let her do the work this time. No need to exhaust himself before she reached a point where standing and walking wasn’t an option.

His eyes locked with hers and he sneered. “Mind that rope around your wrists. Wouldn’t want to chaff that pretty skin of yours, now would we? You might want your hands above your head.” Sliding between her knees, he kept his head up, watching her as he gripped her hips and aligned the head of his cock with the opening of her heated folds. He growled, arching off the bed to drive up into her, make her want to come down on him if she didn’t already.

“If you’re a good girl, I might untie your wrists,” he said, releasing her hips and lifting his back off the bed. Palms pressed to the mattress, body angled away from her, he smirked. “Or I may just leave you like that when we’re finished here.” Leaning toward her, he positioned his face just out of her reach, and spoke from deep in his throat. “Now move.”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet came down on his swollen cock, and she arched her back and threw her head back in the process. A deep, feline like growl erupted from her chest as her blonde hair was thrown from her face as she let her pelvis meet his, leaving no part of his cock untouched by her slick insides. "Preston," she groaned, her eyes rolling in the back of her head. The pleasure she felt was wrapping around her with its warmth, making her want to close her eyes and relish in it without it ever ending. Letting her head lean to the side, resting on her arm that was tightly bound by the rope and headboard, she started to move her hips in slow, taunting circles that made her cry out.

The way Preston talked to her, demanded her around, aroused Scarlet more that ever. She nodded, despite how much she wanted him to bring his face just a little closer... "No," she whispered, smirking in a nearly arrogant way, "I'm aware of how much you want me. Your eyes don't lie."

"Untie my hands," she begged, wanting nothing more than to feel all over his body and bring him closer to her. The distance he kept was as torturing as the edge of pleasure he kept her on. Frustration was etched on her face as she looked down on him, her blue searching his. The face she was looking into was the face that had haunted her life, loomed over every breath she took. Even if she had no idea he had existed until less than a month ago, now that she was in his presence, it became increasingly obvious she was brought on this earth for him. However, she was not sure if it was for his pleasure or his ultimate torture.

"Please," she whined, stopping her movements to glare down at him. Lifting up on her knees, she denied his entrance, despite how much it pained her to do so, and yanked at her bindings. "Preston, just untie my hands!" Her desperation to touch him, to dig her nails into his flesh, was too overwhelming to ignore now.

 

[Raivh]

Preston’s fell back and his chest rumbled, quaking with a growl so deep it shook the bed when he felt her ease onto his throbbing girth. He watched as her heated, velvet walls consumed every inch, drawing another gut-wrenching groan from deep within before his eyes closed. Heaven or hell, he wasn’t sure which one had engulfed him in such a pleasurable fire. This woman, he hated her; he was determined he loathed her, but being inside of her was something he reveled in, enjoyed even. It took him a moment to rise once more, push himself off the bed. The muscles in his abdomen flexed, and one particularly tight squeeze of her tight inner walls as she rotated her hips caused him to shudder. Chest heaving, he closed his eyes, waiting for more movements on her end that would bring him that same, all-encompassing sensation that would drag him closer to oblivion.

Her “no” hauled him back out of his pleasured state, and every fiber of his being wanted to strike her then and strike her hard. Instead, he let it go, and scoffed when she pleaded with him to unbind her hands, knowing that doing so would bring her some sense of dominance, of gratification that she had some control over the situation. He would make it very evident that her need for the torment within her body to cease was at his discretion. She would be allowed to orgasm when he wanted her to, and only after he’d had his or he permitted her to release with him; not when she desired it. The same rule would apply for her touching him. She would be granted that privilege when he felt she’d earned it. So far, her talking wasn’t getting her anywhere but on his nerves.

Preston’s eyes snapped open and he leered up at her, nearing the end of his patience for her complaints. Snarling as she began to rise up off his pulsating, glistening cock, he lifted his hand and grabbed her face, putting his mouth at a perilously short distance from hers. He could feel her breath against his lips, the rich flavor of her tongue and lips there if he decided to taste.

“You impudent, stubborn little wench!” he bit out, every muscle in his body rigid. “I would have let you finish. Now, you’re going watch me, or I’ll leave you tied to that bed until morning and make sure you pass out sobbing from exhaustion!” Shoving her back, he slid out from between her legs and sat up. His green eyes locked on her the moment his hands clamped down on her ankles, forcing her to stretch her body out for his viewing delight as he tied her leg to the foot of the bed again with the leather leash. Kneeling before her, he bore his teeth in a wicked, mocking grin, and gripped his sturdy, veined length. The juices from being inside her were ample lubrication, adding to the feeling as he slid his hand from base to tip and let loose a guttural groan. He shifted closer to her, continuing to stroke his heavy cock. His balls were tight, full to bursting.

“Next time I’m going to bind your hands behind your back and turn you on your stomach!” he gritted out, a few pumps of his fist away from spilling his seed. Already he had a target in mind, staring straight down at her stomach and breasts. An image of her covered with his sticky, salty load was all he needed to come. Throwing his head back, he roared, and the head of his member burst, relieving him of a painful weight. He remained where he was, twitching, shuddering, and groaning, until every last drop was free.

“Isaac better be out wandering the halls in search of you tonight,” Preston stated, taking deep breaths to steady himself as he slid from the end of the bed. “Because you’re walking back to your room just as you are.” Unbinding her ankle, he walked around to the head of the bed, green eyes boring into hers. “And if you so much as let anyone touch you, I’ll be sure you regret it.” With a few quick pulls and tugs, loosening the rope from her wrist, he freed her, and walked toward the door. He quickly undid both locks and swung it wide open, standing there. Down the hall a ways, he could hear footsteps, and when he spoke next, whoever it was stopped dead in their tracks.

“Get out,” Preston commanded. “I want to sleep before dawn.”

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet gasped at the sudden feeling of him releasing himself upon her chest and stomach, and growned with his orgasm, as if feeling his pleasure was nearly as breathtaking as feeling her own. Her eyes squeezed shut as she revelled in it, wishing he'd do the same for her, but quickly realizing that would not be the case when he starts to undo her binds. "Bastard," she murmured, shaking her head and opening her blue eyes to his presence. It took too much effort to glare at him, for as angry as she was about him not rewarding her a release, she could't help but feel some sort of ironic serenity when she looked into his haunting green eyes.

As she was pulled from the bed, her hands gripped the sheets and ripped them off, giving her a chance to quickly cover her exposed body. Wrapping it around her, she went to stand in the door way, looking up at Preston with lustful eyes, her face pink from pleasure and frustration. "Goodnight, Preston," she whispered, her eyelashes flashing up toward him, before looking out toward the hall way. She stepped outside and started to retreat toward her wing o the manor, the sheet draped around her in a way that didn't hide much of her flushed body. At te sound of footstepped, she stopped in her tracks, looking up to see the elder eyes of Dr. Haskell staring down at her with a knowing glance. It didn't take long for her to confirm that he saw her exit Preston's room and telling him goodnight.

"Dr. Haskell," Scarlet whispered, looking down the hall to see if they were alone before looking back at him with a deep, crimson blush across her delicate cheeks. She pulled the sheets up on her body more, holdg them tight to her chest as she bit her lip out of embarassment. "Odd seeing you in the halls so late... Everything okay?" She felt her cheeks get hotter as she realized how lame her attempt of small talk was. Never had she felt so small.

 

[Raivh]

A bitter, loathing scowl and a huff through flared nostrils was all Preston gave to bid Scarlet goodnight. Once she was out of the way, he drew the door shut hard and locked it once more before retreating to his bed. Her virginal blood, staining the carpet, was forgotten along with the blood spilt from her elbow several days before. She’d seemed to enjoy his attack far more than he’d intended her to, and that set him on edge. Increasingly apparent was the fact that Scarlet, harboring Persephone’s soul, was unavoidable, as had been the inevitable incident of their joining. Stolen from her was her virginity, but in return, Preston sensed a noose had been thrown about his neck. Or perhaps it was already there. And it had only been tightened. Tightened so tight that he could feel the pressure cutting into him, penetrating flesh as she would have done with her nails had he unbound her wrists and permitted her to continue pleasuring them both.

…….

“Good evening, Persephone,” Dr. Haskell replied, staring at her with questioning, curious, yet almost fearful gray eyes. The sheets around her body were unmistakably Preston’s. He was the only one in the manor who owned such deep, blood red sheets. And what was more interesting, or perhaps disturbing, was the fact that he could tell she was naked behind them. Allowing his eyes to drift over her face, he noted her flushed cheeks, the lusting look in her eyes that had yet to dissipate, and the sheen of sweat that coated her brow and pooled along her collarbone. He gave a slow nod in response to her question. Everything seemed in order. No one but the two of them—and no doubt Preston—were up. Casting a quick glance down the hall, Dr. Haskell returned his gaze to her and arched his eyebrows. Old, definitely not stupid, he knew what had gone on behind what was now Preston’s closed door, had seen more of the man than he had ever wanted to see.

“You should get to bed, don’t you think? It’s getting late.” Placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, he gave it a pat and continued down the hall toward his room. “Goodnight, Persephone. Sleep well.” The click of his latch sounded in the distance, signaling his departure was final for the night.

 

[Blair1216]

Scarlet's blue eyes followed Dr. Haskell as he left the scene, heading to his private room. Her expression was full of shame, guilt, and a hint of betrayal. Here she was, the damsel in distress of the manor, and she was rolling around in the sheets of the dragon's bed while her knight in shining armor slept innocently. The type of person she was turning in to would make her mother wish she was never born, she was sure, for the lady she as raised to be was now far from reality.

Biting her lip intensely, she turned on her heel and kept the sheet wrapped around her tightly as she made her way for her bedroom. With a nearly silent click of the mahogany door, she slipped inside and dropped the sheet. A glance at the full length mirror in the corner of the room revealed her forming bruises, marks she had not realized she received. Her finger tips grazed the tainted skin, a frown making her red lips curl down slightly. Was this what it felt like to be so darkened by lust that she could not feel the pain he was inflicting on her? Preston was going to be the death of her, she knew.

Scarlet shook her head and turned away from the mirror, going straight to the marble shower. Violently flicking the hot water on, she let the steam roll through the room before even entering. With a wince, she let the water hit her skin and attempted to rid her body of Preston. However, no matter how hard she scrubbed with her lavender soap, she could still smell his scent on her, his musk filling her senses. And despite how much she wished it would go away, it was the most beautiful, divine scent she'd ever come in contact with.

After a few hours of laying in bed, attempting sleep to no avail, Scarlet pulled her hair up into a pony tail and slipped on a pair of jeans and a navy, v-neck sweater before descending the stairs for breakfast. Her hopes of being distracted from what had happened the night prior were quickly shot down when she saw the knowing look plastered on everyone's faces. Most of their expressions looked down on her, telling her how ashamed she should feel, while others were full of curiosity, wondering how she could give in to the monster that had been hurting her since she arrived. Her cheeks turning a deep crimson red, Scarlet grabbed a plate and piled it up before sitting at the end of one of the dining room tables. Her eyes cast down, she had not noticed Gregory pull up a chair next to her.

"I just wanted you to know," he said in a low voice, making Scarlet look up from her french toast. His expression was humorous, a smirk curled to one side of his handsome mouth as he looked down at her. "I'm not surprised. Afterall, history has a way of repeating itself. But who know Persephone was such a screamer?" With that, he chuckled and gave her a wink before standing up, making sure to give her a friendly pat on the shoulder before walking back to his original seat. Scarlet's eyes went wide before she felt her face heat up, forcing her to look back down at her plate in embarrassment.

 

[Raivh]

CLOSED.