The Abode of Peace - Scenes of Antiquity

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik

Every man had his personal demons. Many came to this place to escape them when those demons sought to raise their heads. A man could come to the brothel and for a price, lose himself in some piece of soft womanly flesh. A woman trained to make him forget. Maybe that was Amaya’s fault. She had no training.

His body speared into hers, making her arch off the bed. There was a moment he was still, deep inside her. She was grateful. It gave her body the time it needed to adjust to his girth again. As he started to move, she felt herself moving with him. Just that quickly, the lust flared back to life between them. The road back to toward the peak was swift. She moaned softly. Her head tossed from side to side as her hands griped the sheets under her.

“Malik… Malik… “

His name left her lips repeatedly. Each time, there was more desperation in her voice. Each time it sounded strained. It was still out of her reach.. that peak... but not by much.

Her body strained upward against his.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

Amaya

The thrusts became faster and harder as he buried his flesh into her, hammering his cock repeatedly against the door to her womb. As his name left her lips, the raw sounds emanating from his throat got louder. His hips ground and thrust between her spread thighs as he drove her and himself towards orgasm.

He moaned with her now, his eyes darkening as her delicate body twisted on the bed, head tossing from side to side, legs shuddering. Malik's head dipped back in pleasure as he felt her muscles milking him. He remembered just how good she was. No matter how much control he exerted over her, it was always coupled with her own. Even in that lust filled moment where she was begging for him to take her.

He felt her body arching on the bed like a beautiful bridge that had been bent. The sweat made her skin shine in the room. His pelvis kept hitting her sweet spot but not quite as he let his grip on her left thigh go, moving his fingers between them and over the little bundle of nerves that were aching to be touched. His thrusts slowed a bit while he rubbed her clit. He was careful to lower himself onto her as her back pressed against the sheets once again. His chest slid over her breasts. His fingers left her little pearl as his cock started to pound her again.

Brown eyes staring into hazel ones. Lust. Passion. Desire. Want.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik

His weight came down on top of her and as it did, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him tighter against her. Her hands converged behind his head. No matter what they did to each other or how, she never let him kiss her. Ever. It was too personal. It made him too real. She never hesitated to wrap her lips around his cock, but never once had he been allowed to kiss her. They stared into each other eyes, so close. Her passion, her need. Plain for him to see. It was his, that concerned her the most.

“Lose yourself in me, Malik. Please.”

Her whisper was raw. Imperative. It bled from her. Her lips found the side of his neck, willing to kiss him there at least. Urgency strained her body. Her inner walls gripped him, tugging him deeper. Milking him. She needed to feel his heat coat her walls, flooding her.

As her peak grew closer, she pressed her face harder against the side of his neck. Her teeth scored his skin. She felt her body tightening, preparing itself.

“Malik… please.”

 

[Mav Unlimited]

He felt her legs slide around his waist immediately. Her hands pulling him closer as they stared and moaned into each other's eyes before her mouth slid across his cheeks, avoiding his lips in the same fashion it always did. He was not allowed to kiss her on the mouth. Whore. He thought again. His teeth sunk into her tender white flesh, only this time they almost went for the blood. Almost. His hard throbbing cock was being rammed into her sopping womanhood.

As the words left her mouth, he felt the cum rise from his balls and travel through the shaft to fill her. His body shuddered in pleasure as her inner walls gripped and milked him towards the peak. The two bodies on the bed converged into one hot mess as her own body shook underneath his. Teeth over flesh. Nipples against chest. Hair against skin. Warm breaths. Guttural moans. And whimpers. Primal lust finally beginning to end into a passionate, emotional climax. The room was filled with sounds of pleasure.

His teeth left her neck, head rising up again, gazing down into her eyes, only to collapse over her shoulder as he exploded inside her molten heat before his body arched one final time.

The thrusts continued. The pace slowed down however, until he felt his knees weaken. She had sucked every last ounce out of him. Mentally. And physically. Even though he had contributed to the mental part of it himself.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

She couldn’t hold back the painful whimper in her throat. Her lips and teeth had shifted, from his neck to his shoulder when his own teeth sunk into her neck. Her fingertips pressed into the back of his head at that moment of contact. He was pounding himself into her with swift hard strokes. She let the tides take her, flinging her about as if she were a mere bit of flotsam. Her whole body quaked under his.

“Malik.”

His name was one harsh puff of air against his ear. Her body clung to his as wave after wave of release pulsed through her. It was sharp. Bittersweet. It was draining. Her body periodically twitched as she came down from the force of her release. Her hands kept running over the back of his head as she felt him coming off of his peak as well. Her legs dropped away from his waist. They remained bent at the knees on either side of his body.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

Amaya

Both of them were out of breath. Panting and moaning on the bed as her legs dropped on either side of him, his own body a heavy lump of flesh on top of her. He stirred and raised his head, softening inside her slowly before withdrawing. He gazed down into Amaya's eyes. For a short moment. This time it was not as cold as it had been before. His chest, abdomen, and thighs that were stuck to her body, separated only by a thin layer or sweat and their juices, withdrew slowly as he got off her and sat on the edge of the bed, eyes drifting away from her face and her body completely.

Malik glanced towards the window once before picking up his clothes that were lying on the floor, stood up, adorned them and took a step towards the table, placing a single gold dinar on top of it. He always left her one. It had been a tradition. It was negligible compared to the sum he had already paid. But this was not about payment. Besides, he did not have anything else to give her. The man lifted his glass, drank whatever juice was left in it and started walking towards the door, hoping she wouldn't say or do anything that would make him stop. His task had been accomplished. No reason to stay anymore. No more use for this place. Or her. Until next time.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Where before there had been sounds or even voices, now, there was nothing but silence. She simply waited until he removed himself from her person. Some things never changed. She was self conscious of how she smelled, of sex, sweat and man. Malik’s scent overrode her own subtle one. Her rapid breathing started to slow as she waited for him to dress and leave.

She always had this overwhelming feeling of wanting to stop him at the door, but never did. Today was no different. Her eyes followed his movements. He dressed with quiet efficiency. Her eyes fell on the dinar he placed quietly on the table. She wondered briefly, what he would think if he knew she never accepted it for herself. She gave it to the local orphanage. She wasn’t sure why he left it for her. Maybe it was to re-establish that line between them. Patron and whore.

Only after the door closed softly behind him, did she get up and go to the stand beside her small dresser, pouring water into a basin and reaching for a cloth. She dipped it into the water, rung it out and started to clean her body. Her actions were automatic. Amaya looked at her reflection in the small mirror above the dresser, turning her head one way then the other. Her eyes zeroed in on the bruise forming on her cheekbone. The ache of his rough possession deep in her body was starting to be felt as well. She rinsed out the cloth once she was done, hanging it on the small bar on the wall. She shifted to the dresser and drew out a clean shift, donning it. After picking up her hairbrush from the dresser, her footsteps took her to the window. She stood there, looking out, brushing her hair.

Her mind went on a fool’s journey, wondering what her life would be like if she wasn’t a woman chained to the Abode of Peace.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

It had been a few weeks since he had last seen her. A long time in his calendar. Longer than he would ideally like. But life was a bitch. And time was money. Malik strode through the corridors of the Abode of Peace, finding his way among the several men and women who were lined up to either purchase or sell. Gold ruled the place.

He remembered his last visit quite vividly. He had not been entirely himself. She had noticed it. But such was the chemistry between the two of them that they understood each other quite well, even though they didn't really know everything about each other. It was a silent pact. One that wasn't just purchased. They were more than just money to each other.

Tonight, he needed her. Again. Needed to feel her. Touch that creamy white flesh and run his fingers all over it. Caress her curves as he grabbed and held her in the palms of his hands. Stroke her gently. And most importantly, talk to her. Hear her voice once again. Her eyes held dark secrets. He had always known that. He wanted to uncover them. But it was not easy. It would take time. For tonight, all he really wanted was to be with her. Maybe apologize to her for being so cold the last time around. Not that she minded it that much, given the amazing time they had shared. But even then, he had been thinking about his behavior for days and needed to get the burden off his chest.

As he was approaching the room that they usually met in, something caught his eye. It made him stop in his tracks. He was standing a few feet down from the door that he was planning to open. But instead of opening the door, he did something that he had never done before when visiting the Abode. He couldn't help it. He had to find out. They say curiosity killed the cat. Malik was about to find out if it was really true.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik ~

Evening had settled into this part of the world. Just barely. The Abode of Peace was still relatively empty. Her eyes flickered around the space. Habit. Always her eyes searched for potential trouble and where it might be located. Her stride, the way she moved through the place was confident, not cocky. She generated an air of quiet strength.

She made her way quietly through the corridors. Her armor made little sound but enough to cover up the shifting mail worn underneath. She kept to the shadows, dodging men who were haggling over prices with the soiled doves of this place.

She was the Unnamed. A warrior. She lived her days by the blade. An unfortunate miscalculation on her part and she now bore a scar through her right eye. She had been blessed, by what she couldn’t say, but she had not lost the sight of her eye. Praise be.

She slipped into a room, the door not closing completely behind her. Unstrapping her sword, she set it against the dresser before she rolled her shoulders, easing the ache of the weight of wearing the armor. Her trembling hands found the buckles to her chest plate and began to undo them.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

She was dressed in armor. He began following the captivating figure that was moving ahead of him in a way he had not seen any woman walk these halls before. Malik began pacing through the corridor which was not that crowded tonight. Even then, he didn't want to lose sight of this woman. Not now. He had no idea where it was going to lead to. All he knew was that he felt a deep need inside him to just...follow her. There was an odd familiarity about her, the way she walked, those subtle movements that he just couldn't put his finger on. Had he met her somewhere else before?

He turned around a corner and watched her open a door a few feet down from where he was. Without stopping or worrying about whether she would see him, he approached the door a few seconds after she had slipped into the room. It was not like men didn't follow women around in here. It was a whorehouse. But he felt as if he was stalking her. The lady who looked like a warrior and even had a sword with her. Things could not get more intriguing.

The door was not closed shut. Should he knock? Or just enter. Normally, Malik would have just burst in and demanded whatever he was there for. He decided to knock on the door for some reason before gently pushing it open. It was dark inside. His eyes lifted from the floor up as he stepped in carefully, not sure what to expect. He had forgotten all about Amaya.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

Her movement was swift, even before the knock. Her hand snatched up the scabbard, her other, released the blade. A turn clockwise brought the sword in a broad arc around, the pointed tip stopping a few mere inches from his adam’s apple. The room was shrouded in darkness. She hadn’t bothered to light a candle yet. Her eyes moved upward slowly, assessing his form. The tip of her blade quivered slightly as her eyes found his face. The hold on her pommel tightened, she flicked the blade tip to her right, indicating he should move in that direction. Her left hand set the scabbard against the dresser. She stayed in the darker shadows.

Keeping him at the mercy of her blade, she moved slowly toward her left, coming to stand directly in front of the door and kicked back with her foot with enough force to make it close. Her armor, including her helm, remained on. A couple of buckles on her chest plate were loosened but that was all. A gesture with her head as she slightly pressed forward was aimed at pushing him back toward the bed.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

He gasped and stared straight into her eyes. It was all he could see behind the armor she had adorned. His head remained still as he entered the dark room. His eyes lowered briefly to the edge of the sword, the tip he assumed was somewhere very close to his throat that he could not quite see. And he had no intention of moving any part of his body. Not when the woman obviously seemed very skillful at handling her weapon. Why was she aiming the sword at him? Was she scared? He was not there to harm her. He wondered if he should speak or remain quiet.

"Milady, I..."

He felt the sword shake a bit but only for a brief moment. The blade flicked towards the right. He followed her command in silence, a bit amused, but wary, moving to his right slowly, his eyes watching her and her weapon carefully. As she set the scabbard down and moved to her left, kicking the door shut with one swift motion, he couldn't help but notice her figure that slowly emerged from the darkness. He wondered what lay beneath that tough shell. He was moving backwards as she approached him as if he were her prey.

"Look. I'm not here to cause any trouble. If you would just..."

Just then, she gestured using her head and caught him slight off guard, pressing forward with the sword. Malik lost balance for a second as his calves touched the bed and he was forced to sit back down. His eyes lifted to the figure standing above him as she unbuckled her chest piece and stared down at him.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

His words had no effect on her bearing. As he sat abruptly on the bed, she moved a few paces to her left, opening the drawer in the small table beside the bed, taking out a long oblong piece of red silk. She held it out to him with her free hand toward his eyes. She was in no mood to voice anything. He had found his way into her chamber, he could pay the consequences for it. She was thankful for the dark and it was growing darker by the moment. First, his eyes. Everything else would follow.

As soon as he took the blindfold from her hand, it went to her still buckled left side. Her fingers deftly went about undoing them. The lower one first. Then nimble fingers worked at the high one. All the while her eyes stayed fastened on the man before her.

If he saw the blade as threat, he had no idea. But he would. He was at her mercy and she planned on keeping him that way.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

His eyes were focused on hers. He was watching as she moved to the left, towards the drawer and pulled out the red silk piece. Then, she held it out to him. Was she serious? Did he have a choice? He could fight her. Maybe. But he wasn't so sure about that because she was the one who had the weapon at the moment. He had brute strength and no matter what lied beneath that armor, he was certain he could handle it. But not right now. With that razor sharp blade staring him in the face. Malik reached out to grab the silk from her hands, wary of her movements just as she was, of him.

He just sat there with the red piece in his hand as she unbuckled her left side with ease before her slender fingers started working higher. What did she expect him to do it exactly? His gaze swept over her body before resting over those doe eyes again. Those eyes. They reminded him of someone. But who? They glowed even in the darkness. And even though innocent looking, had a quiet strength to them. A sight wave of fear, along with a strange feeling of arousal washed over him as he sat motionless on the bed. He had followed her into the room not expecting anything. He had certainly not expected this. Or had he? He glanced towards to his right once, eyes lowering towards the floor for a moment as if to shake his head and then looked up at her.

"Look, maybe you can tell me what you want and I..."

Malik tried to shift slightly, pushing his hands down on the bed as if trying to stand up, eying the sword very carefully.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

He moved. Her eyes narrowed. The tip of the sword pressed against the vulnerable flesh of his throat in such a way that if he moved again, the steel would surely pierce his skin. The fingers of her offhand stilled on their present task as she waited to see if she was going to spill blood or he was going to comply. To hone her point, in case he didn’t get it, she moved forward a pace.

Both sides of her breast plate hung open. The left side, at the top, was hinged by the unfinished process of undoing the buckle. Her eyes dared him to move. He wouldn’t find even a spot of softness there nor in the way she held her body. Every line of her body was taut with firm resolution. He would comply or bleed on the simple bare floor. The choice, such as it was, was his.

Apparently he didn’t get the slight gesture she had previously made with the cloth. Very well. She gestured toward the cloth then to his eyes with her left hand. Then she waited.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

Malik felt the sharp tip of the sword press against the skin of his throat as his eyes shot up at hers, head straight. He didn't move a muscle as soon as he noticed the look in those eyes. She was not kidding around. He knew what that blade could do to his flesh, no matter how many hardships it had faced before. A slit throat was still a slit throat. He didn't have any leverage over her either. He could maybe use his legs, but that would be foolish, because if she was even half as quick as he thought she was, there would be blood. And it would be his. At least initially. A voice deep down inside him told him to just go with it and obey her. The same way it had told him to follow her into the room.

As soon as she moved forward, he put his hands up in the air for a moment and leaned back on the bed slightly, the red cloth in one hand. Her demeanor was neither soft, nor forgiving. He watched as she used her hand this time to point toward the silk and then to his eyes. A shiver ran down his spine as she waited. The dark skinned man slowly brought his arms up, grabbing the other end of the red piece with his left hand and placed it over his eyes. There was now a pang of helplessness and frustration along with the excitement he had felt ever since he saw her. He was not used to being treated this way.

The light started fading slowly until it was pitch black. Both hands went to the back of his head where he tied the cloth into a knot. He was alone in the room, with a strange woman dressed in a warrior's costume, holding a sword who had just managed to blindfold him with complete ease. He could only imagine was was going to happen next. His breath quickened just a bit. That was all he could hear, other than sense his heart and hear it beat slightly faster.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

Stoic was her demeanor. As soon as she saw he had covered his eyes, the blade tip shifted to his shoulder and lightly pressed against it. She knew her weapon like she knew her soul, what kind of pressure she could exert and the consequences thereof. So, she pressed against the front side of his shoulder. Intent was clear. Back up on the bed and lie down. If he didn’t get that last part, her next action would insure it. The tip of her blade backed off just slightly as if to give him some space to move. In fact, she had removed it so she could lift her helm from her head. She quickly shook her hair free as the helm came away. During this time, her eyes never wavered from his form. Her muscles remained tense, expecting anything from this man.

She tossed the battered helm into a chair to her left, that sat not far from the doorway. She was pretty sure he couldn’t see her. She’d check the blindfold to insure it, in just a little while. Running the fingers of her left hand through her long tresses, she inwardly sighed in sudden relief. It felt good to get the helm off.

Her eyes watched the man on the bed, a wickedly, sinful grin forming across her lips. At first, her intent was only to secure him and be rid of him. Now? Now, another idea was forming in her head. He had a fine looking form from what she could see. There was a rough, hardened air about the man. Her eyes darkened as she contemplated what she was planning. It had been a spur of the moment thought from the moment he had entered her chamber. It had been awhile and she planned to use him. Thoroughly.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

Something was poking at the front of his shoulder. He imagined it to be the tip of her sword. What else could it be? If it was her hand or her fingers, she was in trouble. It would take him no time to disarm her even though blindfolded. But he had no way to find out. She was playing with fire here. Sure she had the skills to wield that weapon. But he doubted whether she was aware of his. Then it pressed into his flesh further, making him lean back onto the bed automatically. Damn Her! The little lady had him at her mercy. What was she planning to do with him?

Malik felt the metal leave his flesh for a moment as he slowly turned and shifted on the bed. Head now rested on the pillow while his elongated form was now lying on the mattress. He wondered if talking to her would work. Most probably not. He rested his hands on either side of his body and remained still, waiting for her next move. The air around him suddenly grew warmer. His eyes could only sense an extremely faint light coming in from under the red silk tied around his eyes as the back of his head brushed against the pillow, moving the blindfold slightly. Not enough to see anything.

His body twitched in anticipation. If she ended up tying up his hands and legs, there was nothing he could do. No counter attack. Nothing. He had no intention of attacking her. Not in a harmful way anyway. But he was losing it fast. Malik was not used to being in this position in front of anyone. Man or woman.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

The woman didn’t get to where she was by making mistakes or stupid assumptions. She wasn’t about to put herself in range of his hands or legs. All this time she had been extremely cautious.

As he reclined on the bed, it took him away from the threatening edge of her sword. She drew closer to the bed, but not by much. Sliding the flat edge of the blade under his arm, she pushed upward, indicating she wanted his arm above his head. She was half expecting him to resist. Men, like him, were use to having the control. Being on the opposite side of that made them dangerous opponents. Unpredictable. Able to turn a situation to their advantage in the blink of an eye. Not this time.

His compliance. She demanded it of him. If not given, well, it could prove to be unfortunate for him and painful.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

She was pushing him. Slowly. Not just physically, but mentally as well. And he had a feeling this was just the beginning. He had realized it when the sword had made him lie back down onto the bed. The blade, he sensed was not as close to his flesh as it was before. But he was in a position from which there was hardly anything he could do, unless, she was closer to him, and he knew where her body parts were. But she wasn't about to give him that chance. Not after the way he had seen her handle herself, and him, so far. She was a master at her art. But he had patience.

His mind shot back to Amaya. She was the reason he was here. And now all of a sudden, he had found himself on another whore's bed, due to his own curiosity. If one could call her that. He wasn't sure what she was. And what she was doing in the Abode. Malik's thoughts were interrupted by something poking him under his arm that was lying flat on the bed. He suddenly realized where he was again. She wanted him to move his arm. But where? Oh hell no. He resisted. His body shifted uncomfortably, but not much. Arms hardly moved as the blade of the sword slid against his arm. A low grunt. One of frustration. And anger. Lips pursed. Teeth clenched. He knew she could slice his flesh any minute. He didn't want to test her. But he was hesitant to move his arms where she wanted him to. If only, he had...some kind of advantage. Malik's other hand just gripped the sheets he was lying on.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

Her jaw tightened. Her eyes narrowed. Again, she lifted the flat part of the blade under his arm, showing him what she wanted and if he continued to resist, she’d be forced to take other measures.

Her eyes slid over him, watching his body speak. He was totally out of his comfort zone and she knew it. Some part of her basked in his discomfort. Her fingers itched to do other things to him, but not yet… not yet. How fortuitous that this man ended up in her room. One corner of her lips quirked. Perhaps he was just what she needed to round out her night.

She was getting impatient with him and she couldn’t remove the rest of her armor until he was secured. The blasted stuff was making her uncomfortable, which in turn, did nothing to improve her impatience. She growled low in her throat. A sign of her growing impatience with the male.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

He couldn't see her face. Neither gauge her expressions. But the blade, now pressing flat against his arm told him something. Then, he heard the low growl. She was getting agitated. Should he test her further? Malik's body shifted uncomfortably on the bed once again. He felt like grabbing the sword with his bare hands and...if only the blade wasn't that sharp. Again. Damn Her!

Both his hands clutched the sheets for a moment before releasing them. Then, the strong masculine shoulders shifted. Arms slowly moved back over his head, although tentatively. He felt a strong urge to slide the red silk covering his eyes as his fingers went past it. But he resisted. Not worth the pain. If she wanted to kill him, she could have done that by now. She had other plans in mind. He breathed fumes of anger as his arms paused midway before continuing. When they were finally over his head, he fisted both hands and growled softly. Then a hoarse whisper was heard in the room.

"You will pay for this. I promise."

His arms remained wide apart. His legs moved at the other end as if he wanted to kick something.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

A husky sound. Her laughter, came to his ears. There was pure pleasure in the sound. Not one ounce of derision. She found him…. amusing. The blade slid out from under his arm as he raised both them. Her armored boots clanged on the floor as she moved. Easy to judge, she had moved toward the head of the bed. Her gauntlet reached for the nearest wrist. Even while he felt a blade tip pressed against the pulsing vein in his neck. Not by a sword this time, but a deadly dagger. Her efforts to secure the rope at the top of the bed around his wrist would have been much smoother if she could have trusted him to lie still. Such was not the case. He wasn’t an invited guest. He wasn’t here for fun and games with one the whores. He was a captive.

The rope wound around his wrist, thrice and was tugged back, being secured to the slatted headboard. Once that wrist was secured, she moved toward his leg at the bottom of the bed, cautiously. It would take time for him to undo the rope. By that time, she’d have him under the tip of her sword again. Another rope was pulled up from the foot of the bed. After all, this was a brothel. Ropes, paddles, whips, were not unusual to find here.

The dagger secured in her belt for the time being, she seized his leg with both hands, wrapping the rope around his ankle as swiftly as she could manage it, yanking back toward the bottom post of the bed and securing it.

The jingle of her armor spoke of her movements, as she crossed to the other side of the bed. Once again, the tip of the dagger, finding his throat and the master vein that ran down it, pressing lightly inward, just in case he got any ideas about moving. Again, her gauntlet reached for his wrist, jerking it toward the top of the bed and the rope that dangled there.

If she was a bit more forceful in her tying methods than she usually was, it was because of his words. Who exactly was going to pay here? Her lips twitched. It wasn’t going to be her. The rope yanked as she tightened and secured his wrist to the top of the bed. Now… one last ankle then she could feel safe enough to remove her armor.

 

[Mav Unlimited]

The Warrioress~

He heard that husky laughter. It only fueled his anger. But he was helpless. She was obviously enjoying him like this. This was supposed to be a place where men got what they wanted in return for money. He was getting something he didn't want. For free. Unless, she planned to take gold from him later. His teeth clenched once again as he felt the sword move away from his arm. What could he do now? Nothing! The sound of the boots hit his ears as he sensed her move towards the head of the bed.

There was something very sharp and metallic pressing against his neck now. It was not the sword. He could recognize the touch of the sword by now. This was some other weapon she was aiming at him. Smart lady. Damnit! His hands struggled against the grip as the rope brushed against his skin, wrapping around it. His body was shifting on the bed restlessly. The air was escaping his lungs and leaving his mouth as he breathed out.

She secured one side of his body. Then the other wrist, before proceeding to rope his ankle. The metal remained against his neck each time she was closer to his head. Any faintest chance he had of countering her was gone out the window the moment she had secured his first wrist.

He tried to calm himself, lying on the bed, hands and legs tied up. He was now at her complete mercy. Even then, he spoke with a slightly agitated but controlled tone. His entire body moved against the sheets as he tugged at the restraints.

"You laugh at my words now. You won't later on."

Another soft growl.

 

[DarkWarrioress]

Malik~

One final tug on the rope around his ankle and she backed away with a soft sigh. In the darkness her hand found the back of the spare chair in the room. She twirled it around and sat down. Her eyes on the bed where the now trussed up man lay. She rolled her head, feeling the muscles in her neck protest. Pulling off one gauntlet, then the other, she set them on the small table behind her. She flexed her fingers before she peeled the chest piece off. Her shoulders rolled at the freedom. The mail vest came off next and joined the plated chest piece on the floor. The rest of her plate and mail followed suit. All she wore now was a linen shift. That too, joined the rest on the floor.

Getting up from the chair, she stretched on tiptoes before she moved toward the dresser where a basin and pitcher rested. The sound of water being poured into the basin was the only sound she heard, other than his breathing. She glanced over her shoulder at his form as she reached for a soft cloth.

The dragon could growl. Well, good for him.

She dipped the cloth in the water and washed her body in the darkness. Darkness had never bothered her. She found an odd comfort in it at times. Setting aside the wet, used cloth, she removed her dagger from her belt, moving on bare feet back toward her captive. If the dragon was mad now, just wait. She grinned.

Standing beside the bed, she wondered how much of his clothes to cut. He had to leave the Abode of Peace with something besides his battered ego. She trailed the tip of the dagger up his leg, passing over his groin, sliding it to the hem of his shirt, where it paused and lifted before she allowed the tunic to fall again.

The bed dipped on one side. His right, as she got onto it and placed herself, on her knees, between his splayed legs. Her knees pressed against his inner thighs as the sharp edge of the blade found its way under lower edge of his tunic. She pulled upward to make the material taut. A quick flick of her wrist and the blade’s edge slid right through the material. She could have split a hair with that blade. She set the blade off to one side of his hip as both her hands took both edges of his shirt and yanked in opposite directions. The sound of rendering cloth filled the air.