The Rogue King’s Purchased Wife

CHAPTER 5: Repulsed

I opened my eyes slowly, feeling my head throb and my eyes stinging.

I blinked, trying to remember why I was seeing the familiar ceiling of my room in the mansion.

What happened…

On cue, my heartbeat started pacing faster. The sweats that I could feel that had gotten cold on my skin reminded me of the panic attack I had just experienced. Memories once again flooded my mind, attacking my very fragile senses.

My first heat. It was the worst beating I had from Horace.

I closed my eyes and squirmed, my hands grasping onto the sheets as if I could still feel my skin opening at the cuts and lashes that fell on me.

They are still there. I could still feel each painful spank and rip on my body. Phantom pains.

A small whimper escaped my mouth as my eyes watered.

Images of my thigh gushing with blood attacked my mind. The deep cuts slashed on them making my stomach churn. That bald man’s grinning face as he licked my thigh, cutting my skin open each time my fragrance intensifies…

No. I shook my head. I don’t ever want to remember it again…

Opening my eyes, I sat up on the bed, determined to repress one of the darkest memories I had; only to freeze at the image of the large man who was staring at me on the foot of the bed.

“M-Master…”

Elijah didn’t move. He just stared at me, standing so large, yet so still I barely sensed him.

But his suffocating presence couldn’t be ignored.

My mark started zinging at the sight and smell of him.

I glanced at the window. I swallowed, feeling cold upon realizing that the moon was still up, the skies still dark.

”M-Master Elijah… I…” I swallowed the dryness in my throat. I remember seeing him before losing consciousness. I remember how vicious and cold his demeanour was. How easily he snapped the bald man’s head out of the way.

And I remember not abiding to his command to wait for him in my room.

”I-I was just getting back after serving tables… b-but… I-I promise I did not want to disobey—“

I stopped when he leaned down and started sitting on the bed beside my feet. His movements so firm, yet so sleek…

”And yet you still did,” were his cold words.

Our eyes collided. Brown eyes were supposed to be warm. Unlike his, that were so intense as if a single snap could unleash an entire volcanic eruption that could torture anyone that gets in his way.

”M-Master…” I gasped when he started crawling to my body. Like a predator to his prey.

“Master… I—“ our faces inched closer, and that’s when I realized how unusually bright his eyes against his pitch black hair were. They weren’t normal. And the way hunger was etched in his usually cold face…

My head snapped to the moon again. The effects of the full moon are still there. The heating. It’s mostly prominent for unmated wolves, so they’d be urged to mark their mates. Our case is different. He marked me, but he was the only one to do the marking…

“I told you no one else is allowed to touch you, except me.”

My heart quickened. But unlike the panic that ensued me earlier, tinges of pleasure crawled deep into my veins. His scent attacking me as much as I could see mine—what little of it—attacking him.

I gasped when he almost threw his weight on me, his large chest almost burying me back to the bed as his nose found its way on his mark on my neck.

I could feel his weight, my back resting on the bed, but he was still holding himself off, both of his hands on either side of me.

I held my breath when he inhaled me deeply.

“You’re mine to take. Not anyone else’s.” Shivers run down my skin at the guttural tone of his voice.

”M-Master…” he leaned back, allowing me to see the hunger overpowering whatever coldness and aloofness he had for me. The red eyes of his rogue wolf were in full display. And I knew then I had no escape.

“Master—“ I gasped when he dipped his head back on my neck, sucking onto my skin where his mark pulsed at the touch of his lips and tongue.

I squirmed, feeling tingles travel so far it reached my fingertips. The heat consumed me in a huge wave. I sucked in a breath, overwhelmed at the sensation of his proximity, his touch, his weight, his heat.

“Elijah…” I involuntarily moaned, feeling his lips travel on the sides of my neck and jaw. His hands that were on my sides suddenly gripped on my hip; his throat groaning at the sound of his name on my lips.

I bit my lip, knowing well not to ever call my master by his name. But the reaction he made told me another thing. It seemed to have hit a spot on him that made him lean more of his weight on me, our chests touching.

I mewled when I felt his full weight on me. He moved around, making my legs part for him. We both were fully clothed, yet it did nothing to suppress the heat we were emitting for each other.

“E-Elijah.” I couldn’t help moaning, feeling his firm hand travel to my right leg, clasping it on his back. I gasped at the touch of his body on my center. A guttural sound escaped his mouth—feeling as affected as I was of all this touching.

His mouth sucked harder on my neck, scorching kisses on my jaw, ears and shoulders. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I could only squirm on his hold. His hands all over me, holding me still as if wanting me closer than ever.

His other hand suddenly traveled from my waist to the center of my legs. When his fingertips touched my inner thighs, I stopped, freezing for a second. I don't know whether he felt it, but Elijah suddenly replaced his hand with his hip, grinding against me.

I gasped, my mouth opening in a silent moan as my back arched. Elijah’s nips suddenly felt harder, one of his hands on my back, the other hugging my waist, pulling me up to receive his thrusts.

He stopped sucking on my neck for once and licked my mark, making me shiver as he continued his assaults on my center. He leaned back an inch, allowing me to see the hunger so clear and intense in his eyes. I couldn’t even find in me to fear the red eyes that I usually feared. He was driving me through sensations I never thought I’d ever feel after my traumas. Let alone with him. The very person whom everyone feared.

Our eyes met and for a second, I was enthralled with how beautiful he was. His dark hair was damp with sweat on his forehead. His lips red from all the sucking and biting. His jaw ticking in focus with how he was still thrusting against me.

I was well aware that I was not reacting the way I thought I would when it came to a situation like this. The mere thought of a man touching me repulsed me. Ensued a very strong panic attack just like what happened earlier. For an entire year, I was afraid of even seeing the mere shadow of Jose who wasn’t even present during the day they tortured me for experiencing a natural phenomenon every werewolf would experience. I couldn’t even stand the sound of any man’s voice who would get inside the shop.

I was terrified. Traumatized.

And yet here, now, I could barely feel any traces of fear in me as the infamous rogue king grinded himself against me. For a moment, I got scared when I thought he’d touch me there—the same place that elicited the darkest memories I’ve had. But the more I looked at him, the more I could feel my body surrendering to his touch. My soul getting fed at the proximity and the intensity to which he was holding me, looking at me like I was his to have. That I belonged to him.

My hands that had been grasping the sheets moved on their own. Unbidden want making them act as if they had a mind of their own.

My palm rested on his cheek, rested on his squared jaw, my thumb caressing his cheek and lip slowly.

His intense eyes snapped towards mine. I thought he was going to kiss me. But the intensity in his eyes suddenly clouded over.

He suddenly froze, as if realizing something.

His red eyes slowly faded: turning almost orange, to bright brown, to that normal hazel brown he had whenever he looked at me coldly.

He stilled. His hands holding me losing its force. We stared at each other for a moment, as if a spell had been broken the moment I caressed his cheek.

Elijah suddenly let go of me. My body bouncing on the bed slightly at how fast he got up. He turned towards the exit and adjusted his shirt, but before he could turn the knob, I sat up and spoke.

”D-Did I do something wrong…”

He stopped and I saw the way he clenched his fist before he released them.

”Lock the door,” he spoke. His tone cold, but they sounded more forceful this time. “Don’t let anyone in. Not even Cain.”

With that, he strode out of the room, walking so quickly as if he was repulsed at what he did. Repulsed at the sight of me.