The Captain’s Slave part 12

MALIK

I shouldn’t have done that. Shouldn’t have perched her pussy on my face.

But do I regret it? Ancestors, no. My only regret is that I made her orgasm too fast. My tongue hadn’t explored enough of her insides. I was enjoying her sweet heat, becoming addicted to her with every lick, until she exploded and brought us back to reality.

A sour reality. A reality that I try to escape as I lick my lips while walking out of the house and leaving Seven in the kitchen.

Outside, I rinse my face and hands with the water reserve from a barrel.

My beast approaches me, nudging me at the shoulder with his snout.

I wave him off. He huffs and nudges me again.

“What?” I snarl. “Have you been watching Seven so closely that you’ve been inspired by her rebellious streak?”

He only huffs and continues nudging me.

I sigh and pet his head. “There, there. I don’t wish to be angry at you.”

He is the only thing that remains of the old me. The beast I’ve rode for years. So much is changing around me, inside me, too quickly.

I haven’t taken my numbing medication in nearly a month. But my body is aching for it. Maybe it’s time that I give into my desires and take the drug. It would uproot whatever feelings for Seven are settling.

I have no need for feelings, but I found myself nearly losing my mind over lust.

Lust. The most simple, raw emotion. Many females have stirred it in the past before, but I was never troubled by it. I took them for a rump in my furs, and that was the end of it.

But I knew even before touching Seven that it wouldn’t be the same. I dove between her thighs anyway, my desire burning so hot that my reason evaporated. And it turns out that I was right. Tossing Seven on my dining table and feasting on her did nothing to sate my lust.

This is not a one-and-done fuck. I need more, and I can’t foresee this thirst being sated anytime soon.

What in the Ancestors’ name have I gotten myself into?

The numbing medication may be the only way out of this. The only way to stop desire and its related emotions from spreading and rotting my brain.

Life was simpler when I couldn’t feel a broad spectrum of emotions. I was a cold soldier. It wasn’t enjoyable feeling numb, but perhaps joy is the problem. Perhaps I must sacrifice it in exchange for peace.

I finish a couple of errands around the house and then make my way inside. I go to the kitchen for a cup of water, my eyes lingering on the dining table that now leans an inch to the left.

I set a hand on the wood and I swear that I can still feel the warmth of Seven’s back as she laid here, spread wide for me to enjoy.

My groin hardens at the memory. I sigh. It’s time to retire to my bed and beat my cocks until nothing remains in me except for bitterness.

— —

The next day, I spent hours staring at parchment. I took a break from the hard labor and kept my mind busy to escape thoughts of a particular female.

I flip through faded old maps, trying to make sense of the territory lines and letters. These maps are at least a decade old, useful only to my late father.

It’s hard to tell who are the current land owners of what. My territory is clearly marked, but I have new neighbors now. The families that used to live in the surrounding lands have long moved on.

I have plans to expand. I must buy these neighboring lands and repurpose them. As to what they will become, I’m unsure, but I must have them.

I have many decades left to live. Many more houses and stables to build and many fields to plow.

There’s a soft knock at the door. I glance at the crack at the bottom and find a delicate shadow streaming into the room. I see bare, tiny toes. She’s barefoot on the hardwood floors.

Disturbed by the strange warm feeling this detail stirs in my chest, I clear my throat.

“Come in.”

The door is gently pushed aside, as if she doesn’t want to make a creak. Not a single sound to disturb me.

I can’t blame her. I’ve been an irate brute as of late, snapping and snarling. Hungry for pussy and too stubborn to claim it.

Seven appears with a platter.

“Good morning, sire. I brought you breakfast.”

I never eat breakfast. She knows this. I go to work the land as soon as I awake. Since I changed my routine today, she must not know what to make of it.

“You may set it down on the table. Thank you.”

She steps closer. Those bare, endearing toes of hers poking out of the bottom of her long skirt with every step she takes.

She’s tense. Awkward and unsure of how to carry herself. I feel the same uncertainty. When I devoured her yesterday, I forever changed the dynamics between us.

She sets the planner on the right side of my scratched and cluttered desk.

She lingers for just a moment, glancing at the annotations on my maps—the many question marks I’ve written across them.

“Um…I believe I can help you answer some of those questions, if you wish. I’ve learned plenty about these lands.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I reply instantly.

She dips her chin respectfully, lingering for another second.

I would pay gold to know what’s going through her mind at this moment.

She turns, her skirts flowing behind her. I can’t see her toes anymore. Only her heels which quickly walk out of the room.

She’s angry. I was too hasty in my response. But what could I have possibly said?

No, I can’t work beside you because my head seems to malfunction when your scent lingers too long.

It sounds like mind-rot. Like I’m losing my composure. And composure is everything to a master. It’s what I trained for so many years to perfect.

Groaning, I continue studying and annotating the maps. I ignore the breakfast platter, not even lifting the cover to see what she made me.

After another hour or so, I realize that that house has fallen eerily quiet. There is no pitter-patter of angry, barefoot steps. Or the clanging of pots in the kitchen. Or the sharpening of knives as my little servant plots my murder.

Where is she?

I rise from my seat and search the entire house, coming up empty-handed. With my heart rate increasing, I run outside and scout the area. I spot her trail. She’s heading north.

With panicked, hasty steps, I chase her. Following her all the way to the fence of my territory. She walked so far that the house is a dot in the distance.

“What are you doing out here!” I shout at her.

She turns, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyebrow raised.

Insolent, sassy woman. She must have forgotten the weight of my palm against her ass and my thighs pressing against her heaving belly.

“I went for a walk. I have already completed my duties for the morning, and you dismissed me, so I figured you were not in need of my service.”

“A walk? All the way out here?”

She shrugs. “I didn’t cross the fence. And you never forbade me from wandering the premises.”

She’s right. I never set any rules against wandering. She’s got me. And she knows it.

A small smirk forms on her lips. “Is there a problem, master?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is,” I snarl at her. “I’m fucking hungry.”

She raises her eyebrow. “But I just delivered your breakfast. Did you wish for me to prepare lunch?”

“Not for food.”

Her eyes widen. All smugness is wiped from her face. She recedes into the innocent girl sprawled on my dining table, too shy to beg for more but clearly relishing the pleasure of my tongue against her pussy.

“Bend over on the fence. Now.”

READ PART 13>

A/N: More smut next chapters for you lil freaks 😜