Given to the Savage(37)
“Come,” he said, his voice hoarse, his fingers working her clit while he fucked her, his cock thrusting in and out of her, stretching her tight pussy to accommodate his thick length. “Come, Rowan.”
* * *
Rowan’s mouth went slack as his fingers worked her clit. Her ass felt as though it were aflame while his cock stretched and filled her pussy, burning her from the inside with its merciless assault. She shouldn’t want to come. She shouldn’t want to give herself like this. He could take her, he would take her, whether she wanted it or not, but she shouldn’t want it. He had just punished her without pity. He had whipped her harder than she had ever been whipped in her life. And here she was, moments away from an ecstasy she did not understand.
“Come,” he said again, emotion turning the word into a desperate plea, leaving her no choice but to come, and when she did, he moved faster inside her, fucking her harder, his one hand holding her hip high, digging into the flesh there as his movements grew more frantic until he made that same desperate sound again, his cock throbbing, pulsing, releasing his seed into her, until finally, he collapsed on top of her, crushing her into the bed.
Their breathing quieted in time and Silas rolled off her and onto his side, holding her tight to him with the very hand that had dealt her cruel punishment. She looked down at it, at his fingers splayed wide over her belly, keeping her to him. She touched it lightly at first, then pressed her hand over his and sucked in a deep, ragged breath, feeling quiet and a sort of solace as silent tears slid down her face. Tears not at the pain, not at the punishment she had endured, but perhaps more tears of acceptance, of knowing her fate fully. Strangely, it was a welcome thing and something had shifted between them. Maybe he too had come to that acceptance, she wondered. Perhaps they both needed this: he to give and she to take this punishment that didn’t wholly belong to her. Whatever it was, something had shifted.
Rowan closed her eyes while Silas held her, her back to his front. Her bottom stung, felt too hot, the skin stretched too tight, but she simply allowed him to hold her.
“I hurt you.” Although his words were a whisper, the low rumble of his voice made her shudder and she wondered if he had meant to say them out loud at all. He turned her then so she lay on her back, all the while feeling his seed leak from inside her, sticking to her thighs, to the bed, the room smelling of sex. He remained as he was, lying flat next to her, his breath mixing with hers, his heat with hers as he wiped the hair back from her forehead.
“I only wanted to see what was there to understand you. To know you.”
She looked into his eyes, the layers of emotion, of tragedy and of a sadness too heavy and too dark in their depths. She listened to his soft exhale, watched his eyelids close over all of that emotion, felt his struggle and then, finally, his decision. He opened his eyes and, his tone neutral, she listened to the words that sealed her fate:
“They have my son.”
Chapter Nine
If Commander Norrin held Silas’ son and ransom was the breeder children Rowan would bear him, then she was doomed. Rowan lay in his bed with her back to Silas, not sure either of them slept this night.
As much as his confession earlier that evening made her feel for him, made her sympathize and even not blame him for the role he now played in her life, she knew her fate was sealed. He would not abandon his son to help her escape the colony. And he could not condemn the people of the village to death by doing so. If he would do such a thing, she might even hate him for it. But what about the children he would create with her? She had asked the question but his response had been silence. The children she would bear him would be different. They would be breeders—not human. At least not human enough. In a way, she understood his need to lessen their significance, knew the weight he carried, the number of lives that hung in the balance.
Rowan felt more alone now that she knew than she had before. She closed her eyes, wiping at a tear, trying not to make any sound.
She had no choice but to carry on with the selenium. It was the only way to ensure she would not become pregnant and that was the only way to survive this. She could no more think of his son than he could of her or her future children.
* * *
When she woke the next morning, it was to the smell of the coffee sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. She looked around, finding the back door open. Silas’ tablet sat on the kitchen counter and she knew he must be outside. Climbing out of the bed, she donned her dress, flinching a little when she touched her bottom, the bruises from her strapping the night before would make sitting uncomfortable for the coming days. She wondered if he realized how hard he had struck her. He was easily twice her size and physically stronger than anyone she knew, even the guards of the colony.