Page 5 of Agor the Merciless
What had she gotten herself into?
“I am rough. I am demanding. I will give you pleasure, but I will give you pain, too. I will not stop until you scream my name, until I fill you with my seed, and you beg for more. More pleasure, more pain.”
Zoe blushed. She felt her core throb at his words and her panties become wet. She felt ashamed. He’d just told her straight to her face that he was going to make her hurt, and she shouldn’t have felt turned on.
He released the lock of hair he’d been holding, and his hand turned into a fist as he stepped back. He looked at her with an expression that seemed almost pained.
“This is what will happen. You will wait for me here. Always. You will not leave this room. I will come to you and take what I want. I will give you more in return.”
She surprised herself by nodding.
“But what... what makes you think I won’t break?” she dared to ask.
“Your body... so strong and enticing. Your curves... so full, so soft... You’re just what I need.”
“What about the woman you returned to the institute?”
He shook his head. “I was wrong about her. Just like I was wrong about the one before her. They were in tears before I even got to touch them. But you’re not in tears.”
“I...” Oh, God! It was hard to form coherent sentences! “I’m not.”
“What is your name?”
“Zoe.”
“Zoe.” It sounded weird in his grave, highly accented voice. A good kind of weird. The kind that made her pussy gush even more. “Zoe. I will take you soon. Make you mine.”
“And you’ll be rough.”
“Yes.”
She nodded again. And she realized she didn’t only accept her fate but welcomed it. Craved it.
He nodded too, and then turned on his heel and walked away.
She found herself alone in the wide gallery, and she stared at the candles for a few long minutes. She didn’t know what to do with herself. She sat down amongst the pelts and furs, and hoped Agor the Merciless was right.
Zoe hoped she wouldn’t break.
Chapter Four
He came back later. He had food and a bucket of water.
She wanted to jump to her feet, but he grunted in protest, and she stayed where she was. He placed the tray at her feet and sat down as close to her as possible without touching her. There were two plates on the tray – a pile of steamed vegetables on one, and an even bigger pile of grilled meat on the other one. There was also a wooden cup filled with a white liquid Zoe guessed could only be krag milk. She’d learned about it at the institute. Orcs rode krags in battle and drank their milk.
Her mouth watered. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until all this food was presented to her. But before she could reach out and grab a potato, Agor tore a piece of meat with his bare hands and held it against her lips. She looked up at him, shocked.
“Eat.”
“You’re... you’re going to feed me?”
“Yes. And then I’ll wash you.”
“You don’t have to... I can...”
“I want to.”
Well, she doubted she could say no to him. She opened her mouth, and he fed her the piece of meat. A piece of potato followed, and for the next half hour, Agor fed her gently and patiently, waiting for her to chew and swallow. He watched her every move and gesture, studied each expression on her face. Zoe found the food delicious, and the fact that he was feeding her by hand delirious.
