In a flash he is upon the bed, one hand tightly gripping her jaw until her teeth are pressed hard together, his fingers making white marks on her skin. He can see in her eyes the fear that she tries to suppress, the surprise at his swift movement, the raging anger that fuels her still. Technically it is true; there has been no marriage ceremony. But she does not know the ways of his people.
“And yet here I am in your bed,” he says. He has lowered his voice, let it become the dull purring sound that sends shivers of fear and arousal down the spines of just the right sort of women, and from the way that Mulan’s eyes widen and she tries to jerk from his grasp, he wonders whether she is one of them. “Is it not the wish of every girl in this rotten land to become the Empress?”
She spits in his face; he backhands her for it, almost casually, not bothering with more force than is necessary to snap her head to the side. Then he sees her go cold, in the set of her jaw and the way that she closes her eyes, in the way that her body goes still and stiff beneath him.
On one hand, it is almost a disappointment. He has been looking forward to seeing what bruises she will leave on his skin, what shape her teeth with make in his flesh. But on the other, it is the boldest fight yet that she has given, and it lets him know that she is not yet broken. That there is more that she can take.
He squirms his hand between her tightly-clamped thighs and lets his fingers explore her, feeling her become wet as he watches the heat that rises in her cheeks and the angry way that her nostrils flare as she strives to control her breathing. He has long since decided that he will see her climax before he takes her, that she will know the control he has over her. So he restrains his instinct to throw her over on the bed and fuck her, and continues the work of his fingers, other hand still slowly working the length of his aching cock.
When she is so wet that he can feel her trembling, he reaches round to undo the ropes that bind her to the edge of the bed. A yelp escapes her, but again she is too surprised to react, and within a breath he has her legs pinned to her chest and is tying her in place, opening her up to him. She squirms, rocking with the struggles, but can do nothing as he slides his hands over the curve of her ass to her exposed cunt, flushed and glistening, framed between her thighs. He peels her legs apart as best he can, giving himself at least a little space, and leans in to let his hot breath roll over her skin.
She shudders, her muscles clenching as she tries to hold her composure against arousal and horror. Then he lowers his mouth, tasting her, and the way that her thighs shift tells him that she has never felt this before, never had a man between her legs, perhaps never even known of the nub which his tongue now finds and runs roughly over, sending spikes of pleasure through her.
The things that he could say roll through his head - how much she likes this feeling, how her body betrays her, how she could enjoy this when it is him doing it - but he holds his tongue. His words would give her something to latch on to, to hate, and he wants her unable to detach from her body as he pleasures her, fingers spreading her lips so that his tongue can do its work more easily. It is not long before she fights for breath, the pounding of her heart tangible in her cunt, and it is then that he rears up over her so that he can see her face, eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed as the pleasure in her body meets with the pain in her head.
“Now,” he says, one word that makes her look round and meet his gaze, as he slips one finger into her and feels her body crash over into climax.
For a moment her eyes are wide with horror before they roll back, her back arching, as he pumps into her still to make her ride it out, her body straining against its bonds and her teeth sinking into her lip as she tries desperately not to cry out. A little bead of blood forms there, and it takes determination not to lean down and lick it away.
“And yet here I am in your bed,” he says. He has lowered his voice, let it become the dull purring sound that sends shivers of fear and arousal down the spines of just the right sort of women, and from the way that Mulan’s eyes widen and she tries to jerk from his grasp, he wonders whether she is one of them. “Is it not the wish of every girl in this rotten land to become the Empress?”
She spits in his face; he backhands her for it, almost casually, not bothering with more force than is necessary to snap her head to the side. Then he sees her go cold, in the set of her jaw and the way that she closes her eyes, in the way that her body goes still and stiff beneath him.
On one hand, it is almost a disappointment. He has been looking forward to seeing what bruises she will leave on his skin, what shape her teeth with make in his flesh. But on the other, it is the boldest fight yet that she has given, and it lets him know that she is not yet broken. That there is more that she can take.
He squirms his hand between her tightly-clamped thighs and lets his fingers explore her, feeling her become wet as he watches the heat that rises in her cheeks and the angry way that her nostrils flare as she strives to control her breathing. He has long since decided that he will see her climax before he takes her, that she will know the control he has over her. So he restrains his instinct to throw her over on the bed and fuck her, and continues the work of his fingers, other hand still slowly working the length of his aching cock.
When she is so wet that he can feel her trembling, he reaches round to undo the ropes that bind her to the edge of the bed. A yelp escapes her, but again she is too surprised to react, and within a breath he has her legs pinned to her chest and is tying her in place, opening her up to him. She squirms, rocking with the struggles, but can do nothing as he slides his hands over the curve of her ass to her exposed cunt, flushed and glistening, framed between her thighs. He peels her legs apart as best he can, giving himself at least a little space, and leans in to let his hot breath roll over her skin.
She shudders, her muscles clenching as she tries to hold her composure against arousal and horror. Then he lowers his mouth, tasting her, and the way that her thighs shift tells him that she has never felt this before, never had a man between her legs, perhaps never even known of the nub which his tongue now finds and runs roughly over, sending spikes of pleasure through her.
The things that he could say roll through his head - how much she likes this feeling, how her body betrays her, how she could enjoy this when it is him doing it - but he holds his tongue. His words would give her something to latch on to, to hate, and he wants her unable to detach from her body as he pleasures her, fingers spreading her lips so that his tongue can do its work more easily. It is not long before she fights for breath, the pounding of her heart tangible in her cunt, and it is then that he rears up over her so that he can see her face, eyes screwed shut, brow furrowed as the pleasure in her body meets with the pain in her head.
“Now,” he says, one word that makes her look round and meet his gaze, as he slips one finger into her and feels her body crash over into climax.
For a moment her eyes are wide with horror before they roll back, her back arching, as he pumps into her still to make her ride it out, her body straining against its bonds and her teeth sinking into her lip as she tries desperately not to cry out. A little bead of blood forms there, and it takes determination not to lean down and lick it away.
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