The Tied: Possessive Gods, Book Three Read online

  “I do?”

  “Yes,” he says, snapping the lash down with a flick of his wrist. This time just the tips brush my skin, leaving hot and fleeting glances of fire. “Every time I punish you, you find a new reason to be punished. You plot. You plan. You scheme. And…”

  “I love you,” I say, interrupting his lecture. “You said you love me. I love you too. Even if you are going to tear me apart with your big, mean tails.”

  He curses under his breath and drops the lashes.

  “You make it hard to punish you,” he damn near curses. “But you’re not getting away with this, Lucy. Not in any way. I might not have the heart to whip you to tears right now, but I warn you, you put one toe out of line and you’ll feel it…”

  He’s sexy when he’s threatening me. Especially as he is now, shirtless and clad in sharkskin leather pants, with his muscles bulging and his torso rippling.

  “I thought I’m going to be confined down here.”

  “You are.”

  “I’ll hate that,” I confide in him. “I’ll really dislike it.”

  “Oh, I know you will. And I’m going to spank you too, when I see you. I’m going to keep your ass warm and your pussy filled. You’re going to drip with my seed every hour of your captivity. I promise you that.”

  “You’re going to keep punishing me?”

  I like that ass nice and hot. It makes a pretty frame for my cock when I bury it inside you.”

  That’s a crude and intense way of describing our love making, but it is also accurate. I know I am still in trouble. I am still bound. Still captive. But he can show me mercy, and he has, and now the energy between us has shifted. I can see the thick rod of his desire tenting those sharkskin pants, and I know he is going to make good on his promise to fill me up.

  His hands come down on my ass and lift my flaming hips up, positioning me in his favorite way. I am soaked with deviant desire, and it is only a matter of seconds before he is inside me, his cock claiming me in one rough, powerful stroke.

  Triton lectures me as he fucks me, every new thrust bringing with it another set of rough promises and commands. “You would not be my guest, so you will be my prisoner.”

  I know I deserve this. We have been through this before, and I have courted danger like no other. But the ripples of pleasure rushing through me are hardly conducive to obedience. I adore Triton’s stern energy and dominant desire. I like having disobeyed him and being brought to justice. I even like this dark cavern which now holds me prisoner.

  I give myself to him because I have no choice, and that lack of choice unleashes the deep desires which have always laid inside me. With Triton dominating me, I am free. As a captive, I can soar. The pleasure he is giving me is not inhibited by any need to hold back. I scream when he makes me want to scream, when my toes curl and my back arches and I give myself to him with everything I am and everything I will be.

  What Triton does to me with his surging body is more than sexual. It is spiritual. I feel some deep, core, divine part of me being bonded to him as we writhe together.

  We are both losing control. He is my captor, but he is as imprisoned by his lust and need for me as I am by him. These walls, his ties, they are nothing compared to the strength of the carnal bond which unites us.

  He pinches my clit and I come on his cock, screaming for mercy I do not deserve and will not receive, but my orgasm isn’t the end of things. It is only the beginning. He keeps stroking inside me, in and out, making me feel every bit of my climax and pushing me toward more.

  “I’m not done with you,” he growls, pulling free of me, his cock dripping with my juices. “You will stay here, and I will use you to distraction.”

  He flips me over to face him and emphasizes the point by slapping the length of his cock against my cum soaked sex. I am soft and wet and vulnerable, and Triton is all out of mercy.

  I let out a cry as he plunges back in and begins to ravage me once more, leaving no part of my inner self untouched in his quest to claim me so completely I never think about leaving again.

  Whipped, tied, and tormented by repeated orgasm, I shudder and shake against my prison bed, the thick cock of the god who owns me emphasizing his dominion over me. The ties feel tighter than ever, squeezing my breasts and holding them up for his ravaging, his teeth finding my nipples, his big hands squeezing and caressing.

  “One last hole,” he growls, pulling his cock free from my aching sex and finding the dark little hole beneath. The part of me which is the most shameful, the dirty little nexus I thought I would always keep for myself.

  He is not going to leave any part of me for myself. He wants to claim every single part of me, and that tight hole is no exception.

  “You’re too big…”

  “You’re a demigoddess,” he reminds me. “You can take this.”

  And I do. I take it long and slow and hard. I feel the head of him stretch the tight little sphincter which used to keep my most private vault secret from man and god alike. This is wrong, but I can hardly complain, not when my pussy is weeping juices down to his cock, betraying me by aiding his passage inside that part of me.

  “Mnghhh…” I make sounds which are barely human as he finds his way deeper, penetrating my ass with a disciplinary insistence which leaves me squirming on his rod.

  Deeper. Harder. He starts to thrust, using that hole in the same way he used my pussy. I look up at him, the ties loosening on my legs to allow them to part as he pulls them up over his shoulders, using my thighs as hand holds to draw my ass against his cock.

  He is a god. I am a demigoddess, but what we are doing now is very base and animal. It is a lesson of the flesh, and I am powerless to do anything besides submit.

  Triton would never have done this to me if I had not disobeyed him again. He would have spoiled me and given me everything I asked for if only I could have obeyed. But I couldn’t, and now I am his prisoner, his toy. I am here for his use and I will take his punishment because this is what I earned, the dark side of the ocean god.

  His palm rubs my pussy in slow circles, making sure there’s some pleasure in this for me, even as he punishes me. Triton cannot help his kindness, even in the face of depravity. He buries himself deep in my ass, makes me stay spread wide, and plays with my clit and my pussy hole until I jerk along his cock of my own free will, fucking my ass for him.

  His gaze is lustful and triumphant, completely carnal and I love every moment of it. I’m supposed to be cowed by this punishment. I’m supposed to be learning a lesson. And I am. There are marks on my ass and tears in my eyes. But there is also an orgasmic blush running riot across my breasts and sex, and I am climaxing a countless time.

  Triton uses me until I am so weak from fucking I do not have the energy to even think about escaping. Then he pulls himself from me, kisses me ever so sweetly, and makes my sentence clear.

  “Until the war is over, you will stay here and give light to the dark. That is your fate. That is your destiny.”

  8

  The reality of my imprisonment, absent of Triton’s lust, is harsh. There are walls everywhere. Solid obsidian stone, black, and reflecting my own light back at me. He has left the door to my cell open, but the door to Okeanus remains sealed. I suppose he has not strictly confined me, which is a mercy. But this labyrinth may in fact be worse. No matter how far I walk, or what I do, I end up back in the room he first brought me to with one simple bed and nothing else to entertain myself.

  I have nothing but time, and nothing to do in it besides think. I know that terrible things are happening to my family, and to my world. I know that I am being protected from the terrible things and that it is churlish to want to put myself in harm’s way. I have accepted that my fate is to be passive. That makes me burn with rage, but what else can I do? I have no fighting ability. I have no useful power. I have my light, and that is not enough.

  Have I been down here three hours, three days, three months, or three years? I don’t know. Time is me
aningless in the dark. I see Triton sometimes for a matter of hours, and then he leaves me again. Over and over this happens, time turning into a series of ragged orgasms and spent seed.

  Triton is here now, lying in the bed beside me, his broad naked chest all exposed and sexy and almost making me forget my captivity. We have mated, naturally. No matter how angry we are with each other, we always end up in bed. Especially when we’re angry with each other we end up in bed. Bed is a constant whether I am captive or free. I am glad for it. But it doesn’t fix everything.

  “What if I asked you to set me free again?”

  Triton opens one eye and lets it slide over to me. “What if I asked you if you were going to flee to the surface the first chance you got?”

  “It’s probably better neither of us asks the other any questions,” I sigh, slumping down against his body.

  He reaches out and wraps an arm around me, holding me close. “I’m not keeping you down here to hurt you. I’m keeping you down here for…”

  “My own safety. I know. But what if I could help up there?”

  “What could you possibly do to help?”

  “I don’t know. I probably have powers we don’t know about yet. Raine didn’t know about her powers until she had to use them.”

  “I’m not prepared to risk that.”

  I fall silent again. There is no point arguing. There never has been. Talking does nothing when nobody listens to you, when everybody you know thinks they know what’s best for you.

  “I have to go, Lucy,” Triton sighs. “I will bring you a meal in a few hours, if you wish to partake in the formality of eating. Be good until then.”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “None,” he says, drawing himself up from the bed, still half-erect from our last tryst. I am awash in his seed. I have lost track of how many times he has spent himself inside me, but I don’t feel any kind of life growing within me.

  I look down and poke at my stomach. “Do you think I am barren?”

  “No,” Triton snorts. “You are not barren.”

  “Do you think I am pregnant?”

  “I don't know.”

  “If I am, will you make me give birth in a dungeon?”

  He sighs and lifts his eyes to the world above, the world I am no longer permitted to be a part of. “You’re not pregnant, Lucy.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because I haven’t given you my potency.”

  “What the Hades is your potency?”

  “Gods cannot seed, spawn, procreate, or whatever you want to call it without giving their potency,” Triton explains. “It is different from mortal men who ejaculate their potency at the slightest provocation.”

  I am stunned, insulted, and confused. My mother, my sister, they never mentioned anything about potency. Is this some secret the gods have been keeping from their brides?

  “But I asked you after the first time we were together, and you said there could be a chance… you lied to me?”

  “I thought the idea of being pregnant might keep you here.”

  “You manipulated me!”

  “You were a flight risk in the middle of a war. I would have said or done anything to contain you without resorting to dungeon measures, but here we are regardless.”

  “So you can tell me the truth now that I am your prisoner.”

  “I suppose I can.”

  “Well I can tell you the truth too. I hate you. Don't bother coming back.”

  Triton is unmoved by my harsh words. He smiles at me in that indulgent way I hate, with an expression which tells me he still isn’t taking me at all seriously.

  “I will bring you your evening meal shortly,” he says. “Some time alone might help you get over your fit of temper.”

  “It’s not a fit of temper! You lied to me! You… you…”

  He is walking out the door, which makes me rush to find a word which describes him adequately. My eyes are drawn to the powerful muscled rear which flexes with every step he takes away from me.

  “Ass!”

  The door closes behind him and I am alone again.

  “He is an ass, isn’t he.”

  A voice comes from the darkness and makes me shriek, not to mention grab for the nearest bit of fabric to cover myself.

  “Who are you!? What are you doing here?”

  “Don’t worry,” the voice reassures me. “I’m a friend.”

  A smiling figure emerges from the shadows. It is a man with braids of shoulder-length fiery red hair. He is naked to the waist, his muscular body dripping with what I think might be sweat. I have seen humans sweat before, but never gods. His eyes are quite striking. The phrase dragonskin green comes to mind. I have never seen eyes that color before. It’s enchanting.

  I take a deep breath as he draws closer, moving with a sinuous grace. I am startled by this man’s appearance, but also far too relieved not to be alone anymore to bother panicking.

  “It has been a long while since they put anyone else down here,” he says. “You must be a very bad girl.”

  There is something more than a little suggestive in his tone. His tone is suggestion, wrapped in sin, topped with a bow of pure carnal intention. But I belong to Triton, and I am not interested in whatever delicious darkness might have been left to wander these shadows. I am sure if Triton knew this creature was here, then I would not have been left to whatever might amount to mercy in those devilish eyes.

  I can’t afford to appear afraid. I know that much instinctively. This is the realm of gods, and as such, is inhabited only by the powerful. There is nothing the powerful loathe more than the weak.

  “Who are you?”

  He gives a little shrug. “Oh, they call me by many names. They put me down here and then they forgot about me.”

  He speaks the words of my greatest fear. What if Triton forgets about me? What if the war kills everybody and there is nobody left to remember me? I gasp and sob, covering my face with my hands.

  “You’re crying,” he says. He sounds surprised by that, as if emotion isn’t something he’s used to.

  “Yes, I’m crying, I’m a prisoner. And there’s a war. And I’ve been put down here because I kept trying to go to the war. And now…”

  “Shh,” he says, putting a finger to my lips. It tastes like ash.

  “Don’t touch me,” I growl.

  “Well, don’t cry,” he says. “It doesn’t help anything, and besides, if you really want to get out, I can let you out. I have a key.”

  “You have a key?”

  “Sure,” he says with a shrug, as if that’s something I should have expected.

  “How are you still locked down here if you have a key?”

  “I like it down here. Nobody expects me to do anything. But I can unlock the doors if I want. I can unlock them to wherever I please.”

  “So you could unlock the door and I could be on dry land?”

  “I could unlock a door and you could be on a rollercoaster, princess.” He smiles very wide and his teeth are very white and I don’t know if I trust him, but I am a special kind of desperate.

  “Would you unlock a door for me, please?”

  “Sure, but you’d owe me a favor.”

  I look at him, suddenly understanding what he is. “So you’re one of those.”

  “One of those what?”

  “One of those trickster gods. You say you’ll do something for me, but then I’ll owe you.”

  “That’s not a trickster god thing, that’s an everybody all the time thing,” he laughs. “You don’t get something for nothing. And you should beware of anybody who suggests you will.”

  “I don’t even know your name. How can I trust a man or god who won’t even give me a sound to call him by?”

  “You can call me Ned.”

  “Ned.” I repeat.

  “That’s right.”

  “That name doesn’t suit you very well,” I say. This man with the burnished red hair and the bright green
eyes suits a much more nefarious, infinitely longer name, one I am sure he is hiding from me.

  “Would you like to be free?” He leans against the wall and checks his nails casually. I can’t imagine what he suspects might be there.

  I do want to go to the surface, to see my family and to see what I can do for them. But I know that in the end, I am useless.

  “I can’t be. I don’t have powers like the rest of them.”

  “Sure,” he says. “You are only illuminating an eternal dark. No skill or power involved there at all.”

  He’s being sarcastic, which I don’t particularly enjoy.

  “Glowing isn’t a power,” I say.

  “Wrong.” Those green eyes sear into me. “It is the power. You are the light bearer, Lucy. You will come from the underworld and claim the heavens.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “No, I imagine you don’t. I imagine you spend your days and nights believing what you have been told, that your power is nothing more than a party trick. That you are pretty, and that is all you have going for you.”

  “Do you know me, or something?”

  “I know a lot of people,” Ned says. “And yes. I know you.”

  “But I don’t know you.”

  “Doesn’t matter. The only person you need to know, Lucy, is yourself. You have remained a stranger to your powers, to your own inner core. You have allowed a god’s embrace to distract you from fulfilling your destiny.”

  “And what’s my destiny?”

  He looks at me, and the smile drops from his face. His gaze simmers with intensity which makes his words, as ludicrous as they are, somehow believable.

  “To save Okeanus, of course.”

  I sit with those words for a long moment. Silence falls around us and settles on the surface before being whipped away by my breath when I speak once more.

  “How?”

  “How. When. Why. These are just questions,” Ned says, waving them away. “You don’t need to worry about questions and answers. You need to transcend them. There is power in doing, not in asking, not in talking. These are wasted breaths we take now, and every one of them prevents you from doing what you were made to do, and being what you were made to be.”