Fair Fight (4)

The elf's hands trembled, and her heart beat wildly. She was frightened by Theorad's threat, yet she couldn't bring herself to tell him to stop.

The climax she'd experienced from his fingers had not dispelled her desire. She hated the thoughts crowding her mind, but couldn't turn them aside.

No…

She remembered their earlier encounters and anticipated what might come next. That anticipation embarrassed her as much as it excited her.

She turned her head a little.

Theorad was close, looking at her steadily with his light-brown eyes.

He's waiting for an answer.

Although he had threatened to treat her like a dog, the elf believed he was giving her a chance to refuse the role-play. She thought he would withdraw if she truly objected.

She didn't want him to leave.

She pursed her lips and made a small, hesitant sound.

“Woof…”

Theorad accepted it as an answer. He straightened and took hold of her hips.

“You're shamelessly eager,” he said, keeping his voice cold.

He drew close, then paused rather than immediately beginning intercourse. His deliberate delay distressed her; she could tell he wanted her to abandon her pride and ask.

He was determined not to give her grounds to claim she had kept the upper hand in the contract.

“What is it you want?”

She hesitated.

“…I want Master to put it in.”

“Be specific.”

Her face burned. Still, she made the request more plainly, in the degrading terms he had demanded.

“Please… put it inside me, Master. Into my filthy body.”

She was ashamed that he had made her ask so directly, but knew he had understood.

“Since you've begged so honestly, I'll grant it.”

Theorad drew back slightly. He had been trying to remain composed, but the encounter had affected him too.

“Let's begin.”

He entered her.

The elf gasped. Theorad had to steady his breathing as the unfamiliar intensity threatened to overwhelm the restraint he was trying so hard to maintain.

Almost immediately, Theorad feared he might climax before the encounter had properly begun.

He continued, moving slowly so he could regain control.

The elf's body tightened around him. She was no longer experiencing the pain she remembered from their first time in the same way; pleasure now came more readily, to her own dismay.

But she didn't want him to see how affected she was.

She bit back the sounds that rose in her throat. Theorad likewise fought to remain outwardly calm. If he lost himself too quickly, he feared the elf would be disappointed—and the advantage he had struggled to secure would disappear.

He kept his movements slow and measured, while neither could entirely hide what was happening.

Then Theorad withdrew.

He was too close to climax and couldn't continue at the same pace without exposing it.

The elf turned toward him, dissatisfied and confused.

“Master…”

Her look seemed to ask why he had stopped after all his threats.

He searched for a way to conceal his reason.

“What an insolent bitch. Haven't you been crying and begging like one?”

“I…”

“Quiet. I'll make you cry properly.”

He removed the underwear still around her thighs, then told her to lift her legs.

“My legs…?”

Before she understood, he raised one of them himself, turning her partly onto her side and leaving her in an awkward position. The sudden repositioning startled her.

Theorad entered her again before she had fully recovered from the surprise.

This time he moved faster, intent on bringing the encounter to an end before he lost control.

The elf cried out at the sudden change, then struggled to form words. Her earlier shame faded beneath the intensity of what she felt, though that response did not erase how abruptly he had moved her.

Theorad continued until he could no longer hold back.

The elf's body convulsed, and he ejaculated inside her.

When the movement ceased, he withdrew.

For a moment neither moved.

Then Theorad let go of the leg he had been holding.

“…Good work.”

He exhaled.

The elf was still breathing hard, but her desire had subsided. Shame came rushing back in its place.

How foolish…

She had begun by calling this a contest, only to find herself begging the man she called Master. Now, by the terms they had written, she believed Theorad had won.

The thought saddened her.

Theorad…

He probably wouldn't ask her to have sex again. He might avoid it as before. She knew that if she insisted, he would likely agree reluctantly.

But…

If she kept pressuring him, he might come to hate her.

She did not want to become someone Theorad hated.

The realization was unfamiliar enough to make her hand tremble.

She shook her head, trying to dismiss the strange feeling.

“You vulgar bitch.”

Theorad's cold voice cut through her thoughts.

He thought she would dispute the result and was already preparing to resume the contest.

“That filthy body of yours still isn't satisfied, is it?”

He caught her chin and raised her face.

But he had misunderstood. Her desire had been spent, and she had no strength or wish for another round. She felt hurt that he had decided otherwise without asking.

“Stop it…”

She could not bear being treated like a dog again. Her red eyes filled with tears. She gripped the bedspread and continued in a broken voice.

“Because… because I lost…”