Page 19 of The Queen's Serpent

Her dark blue eyes flash with malice and rage, a fire within them that I am willing to fan if it strengthens her, and gives me what I want. A queen to stand by my side, proud and strong. One who is ready and willing to face my enemies with me, and bring future generations of Cabanos into the world. Little dark-haired replicas of her who will run rampant, destroying the world around them.

I wonder what would happen if I let her know that I had her IUD removed, when I first drugged and kidnapped her from her sister’s house. That all the times that I have taken her cunt and filled her up with my seed since then, she has been unprotected, and could be carrying my child. My cock hardens further at the thought of Issy’s belly swelling with my baby inside of it. Excitement rises within me to ensure that if she’s not pregnant yet, I make her so immediately.

If that makes you hard, just wait till the bitch realizes you branded her lower back with your name. Then she really will lose her weak mind,that little asshole in my head snarks.

A smirk crosses my lips at the knowledge that she hasn’t seen the tattoo I had placed on her lower back that first day we arrived here, when she was out cold from the drugs we gave her. She has no idea that right above her ass, my name is printed like a tramp stamp, a brand of my ownership over her. I’m going to guess she’s not going to be too happy with me when she finds out.

Her eyes leave mine and are immediately drawn to my dick standing proud, long and hard between us. I know she has a fascination with my snake tattoo that circles around my length. How many times had she traced it with both her fingers and her tongue when we were at her sister’s? She’s looking at it now, though, like it truly is a serpent come to life, one ready to strike at her.

“He won’t bite, baby, at least not much.” I drag her forward by her hair until the tip of my cock brushes against her lips, coating them in my essence. “Open up, slut. Show me how much you enjoy taking me to the back of your throat.”

She gasps as I yank on her hair, forcing her lips to open with a pained cry. She inhales sharply before I can get more than just my tip inside the warm heat of her mouth, as she stares up at me with tears racing down her face, and an emotion I have neverseen on her features before. It has me hesitating in my forward motion, an uncomfortable buzzing rising in my mind.

“Kill me,” she mumbles against my hardness, the rumble of her words vibrating up my length, causing shivers to race across my flesh. My chest tightens painfully with, not only her careless words, but the sound of her losing any hope she had behind them.

I pull back from her lips and stare down at her. At the sadness and devastation across her features.My beautiful broken doll.She’s giving up instead of fighting back, and a part of me wants to grant her request for her weakness, but I never will give in to it. I can’t; it would be as if I took my own life. I know that I can no longer see a future for myself that she is not a part of.

My queen, my love, my everything.

“If you won’t release me, kill me. I don’t want to spend my life as your prisoner, as… your whore.”

Her words have me releasing my hold on her thick tresses, and taking a step back and then another inside the tub, until I can’t move away from her without stepping out from its interior. My heart thunders in my chest, the sounds of my own blood whoosh in my ears, and my hands fist at my sides with the need to wrap around her neck once more, but this time not release her until all of her breath is spent.

I understand why she’s asking me for death, asking me to grant her a mercy that I would never entertain. How could I kill the one person who is my everything? How could I continue breathing without her? How does she not realize what she means to me? How fucking dare she even utter those words?

Issy has always been filled with a deep sadness that I failed to comprehend, an emptiness even when in a room filled with people. Is she hoping that with death, that emptiness she feels will disappear, and that she’ll finally find the freedom that sheseems to be searching for? She won’t, because it will follow her even into the next life, just like I will.

The only time I have ever seen a glimmer of something else is when she was in my arms, and I was fucking the very breath out of her, taking her to the heights of depravity that she craves, the ones she refuses to admit she needs. Then, she was filled with life, emotions, and desires. Even in her submission to me, there was fight, there was a war that stirred between us. In those moments, she was alive, filled with passion and destruction. That is the Issy I crave to bring to life. That is who I want to spend the rest of my days with, whether they be long or short, and to stand by my side.

She has always worn a mask around everyone else, even her sister and grandmother. Is it because she believes that she is less than they are? Anger rages inside of me at the thought. Nothing could be further from the truth. She is unique, delicate, brilliant, and perfection walking this earth, even if she is a little shattered from within. I long to know the source of her trauma, who damaged her and made her this way, so that I can bury that person in an unmarked grave.

The problem with Issy is that no matter how many times someone tells her that she’s beautiful and intelligent, she always seems unable to believe it, as if her mind can only see and comprehend her inadequacies. The weight of the Stratford mantle must truly be crushing.

That is why I need to make her a Cabano so that she can shed her skin, like a snake, and be reborn into what she is meant to be. There is a spirit inside my girl that is broken, and it’s my fucking job to mend it. To push her to fight for herself, even if that fight is against me. Hell, I’ll enjoy watching her self-destruct, so that I can be present and cheering her on for her rebirth.

“You want to die?” I take a step forward and then another, and watch her tremble. I hunch down in the tub until we are at eyelevel. “Death comes with pain and at a price, Issy. Are you sure that’s what you truly want?” I quirk an eyebrow, my eyes looking deeply into hers, green clashing with vibrant blue in a never ending war.

“Death would be preferable to being your whore for eternity,” she replies with a defiant lift to her chin.

“Be careful what you wish for,Princesa; you might realize too late that you made a mistake.“ I stand back up and yank her hair roughly, lining up my cock against her lips. “You want to die, baby? Let me take your very breath away.”

“Diego-” She tries to speak, but the rest of her words are choked off, as I slam into her mouth and hit the back of her throat. I don’t give her a second to adjust to my size, beginning a relentless, punishing rhythm that makes her choke, and gag on my hard cock each time I push a little farther down her throat. I will fuck the weakness right out of her, or both of us will perish with me trying.

Her fingers rake down my thighs as she attempts to pry herself off of me, the sting causing my cock to throb inside of her tight throat. Saliva drips down the sides of her mouth, and her nails dig into my flesh. The water sloshes all around the tub with her frantic attempts to get me to release her, but I don’t give a shit. She wants to fucking die, I’ll make her regret ever uttering those words to me. I’ll make her fear death more than she fears life.

“That’s it, baby, go ahead and choke to death on my cock,” I grunt as her teeth graze my length. My fist in her hair pulls her off of me, and I quickly dunk her under the water. Her surprised scream chokes her as water pours down her throat. She struggles, all of her limbs trying desperately to fight my unrelenting grasp. I hold her down tightly until the fight starts to leave her, and then I yank her back out and shove my weeping cock down her throat. She will find no mercy at my hands, if she desires death more than she desires a life with me.

Her lips tremble as she gasps for a breath around my length. I pull back slightly, allowing her to suck in some oxygen before I slam back inside her warm, wet mouth. My muscles tighten, and a zing races up my back with electricity. I need to hold off a little longer, even though I am desperate to cum right now down her tight throat. She feels so good, so fucking right, as if she was made for only me, and my need to consume and own her.

Isabella Stratford needs to be taught a lesson, one that I hope she doesn’t learn effectively, so that I can repeat these moments over and over again, with my cock shoved inside of all her holes. I plan to fill her with my cum daily, maybe even hourly, if I can keep up.

Her fight suddenly stops, and she stares up at me through her thick, wet lashes. Her blue eyes are filled with such profound sadness, my broken, beautiful doll. Her lips tighten around my thick length, her hands sliding up the front of my thighs and her soft, delicate fingers reaching for my balls.

I brace myself, guessing that she’s about to make me scream by fisting or punching them. I wouldn’t put it past her, because that’s precisely what I would do to regain some of my power if I were in her position. It doesn’t stop my brutal forward thrusts, or her gagging sounds every single time I hit the back of her throat. At the savage pace I’m going, she’s going to be sore and unable to swallow, when I am done with her.Too fucking bad, princess.

To my surprise, her fingers grace my delicate testicles as she rolls them around gently, lifting them and caressing them. The added sensation has my body tensing, overriding my desire to hold back and not release in her mouth. The look in her eyes alters; the sadness and anger are still present, but now it’s intertwined deeply with desire as her breathing picks up, her mouth sucking me deep as she twirls her tongue along mylength, becoming a willing participant rather than a forced one, or at least that’s what I try to convince myself of.

Goddamn, this is heaven right here. She is my saint and my sinner, my salvation and damnation, all in one. The one woman I would die for, but also set the world on fire for. How could she possibly think I would ever let her go? How could she possibly think to ask me for death?

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