Page 18 of A Brat's Tale
I did, and that sent me over the edge. I came all over my belly moaning loud enough I was sure I could be heard several doors over. Bayaden was proud of that. “Open up,” he said, and I didn’t get much time before his large cock was stuffed down my throat. He was close though and, in a few strokes, he came desperately. I tried to swallow, but his cock was too large and my mouth too small. I did the best I could.
He collapsed beside me in a much better disposition than when I arrived in the room. He reached for me, which was unexpected, finding my hip and placing his meaty hand there as a sign of ownership. “I’m not done with you,” he said. “Stay.”
And he wasn’t. He took me seven more times after that and as promised, he didn’t leave anything behind.
From that moment I became his. I was Corrik’s and I was also his. I didn’t know how to reconcile that.
Chapter 5
Idon’t ask about the dinner. I know Bayaden well enough to know that if he’s keeping anything from me it’s because he either can’t talk about it or because hecan’ttalk about it. The former is to do with the fact he is still the enemy Warlord even if he’s no personal enemy of mine, which I understand because I would do the same. I am doing the same. I won’t betray Markaytia or Mortouge by revealing their secrets and out of respect, Bayaden doesn’t ask.
The latter is Bayaden’s issue with expressing his emotions. I get this too. I’m only slightly better because I had Papa who was a feeling, emotional being. Even Mother was a bit emotionally dysfunctional. But Papa, he was raised to talk things out and he did most of the time, which meant I was forced to even when I would rather exercise Father’s taciturn ways.
So I leave it. He’ll tell me when he wants to or not at all, but it doesn’t stop me from worrying.
I sit by the window to polish his boots and stop to admire the marks along my arms. Baya got carried away last night and I can’t be seen like this. Markings mean too much in Elven culture and so it’s a conundrum. If anyone were to see these, they would know how much Baya adores me and he would lose the respect of his warriors.
Technically, Baya could heal them away, but that’s the equivalent of telling me I’m meaningless; something he couldn’t even do the first time it happened. The best we’ve got is a magical Elven healing salve that will heal them faster than if they were left to heal on their own and to be honest, I don’t want them gone either.
After our first time together, I was covered in marks. Not a patch of skin was left unmarred. I ached all over, the bite marks made it hard to move without pain, and my arse was sore in two ways. That time, he had chained me to a wall by a metal collar, the chain only long enough to reach a pot to relive myself in since I couldn’t leave his chambers. I was livid, ready to kill him.
But he refused to speak to me in Markaytian and wouldn’t tell me what was going on.
He did show me his art via a hand-held mirror; he was so proud. Baya had never been drawn to mark someone as he had marked me and while he was angry that the person to get the best of his affections was a human, I immediately became special to him and he got protective.
But all I knew at that moment was that my fucking body felt like tenderized meat because it was and I set about plotting as to how I would go about cutting his balls off but not his cock, I loved the many wonderful things he could do with his cock and wanted him to do them again.
This time, he doesn’t have to lock me in. I know better than to leave looking like this. There’s bratting, and then there’s courting the kind of trouble neither Baya nor I can contend with. It does mean I can’t attend practice today, so I get antsy. I’ve already cleaned Bayaden’s quarters, but I go over them again, giving them a deeper clean.
When I’m in the closet, moving things around, something falls out. Even without a lot of light, the handle glints, and I know it’s my dagger. I pick it up.Wow, was Corrik mad when he saw I took this. I laugh. It all felt so serious to me at the time, but now, I could see it going differently. Part of being a brat is embracing it; the more I embrace that side of me, the moreothers will, including my husband, that is, if he can love me unconditionally.
You called him your husband, Tristan.
Fuck. The box that was never supposed to open again is not only open but has begun to grow things from it, spilling everywhere like dandelion and as we all know, that stuff spreads like fire. I sit on the floor with it, remembering him—fair as snow, unrelenting, fierce, but also sweet when he wanted to be.
Okay, I admit it, I miss Corrik. But does he miss me? Would he understand the choices I made?
I stow the dagger. I totally plan on doing something fun with that one, but I want to think about it, bide my time and get Bayaden good. I’m just stuffing it back when arms encase me. I would jump, but I know who they belong to. “Not very vigilant, Tristan. I could have had you gutted and flayed several times over.” He spins me to face him.
“I knew you were there the whole time,” I boast. I didn’t.Bloody Elves. I’ll never get used to how quietly they can sneak up on you.
He drags me from the closet to check my arms. “These are nearly gone.”
“I know.” I twist my lips.
He smiles. “Not to worry. I’ll give you more. Somewhere hidden by your pants and perhaps your tunic.” He starts nibbling down my neck. “I’m sorry. I know how much you hate being confined to one space. You can’t cage a dragon.”
“You can’t and perhaps I’ll even forgive you if you make it up to me.”
“As you wish, my Tristan. I think I know how to do that.” His eyes glint and I know he’s thinking of sucking my cock.
“And then I want Meren’s pies for dinner.”
“And Meren’s pies for dinner,” he says pressing his lips to mine.
“Can I also plant frogs in Andothair’s bed?”
“No.” Worth a shot. He lifts me bridal style. “But I will take you for a ride and we can see the frogs.”
