Queen of Betrayal

Chapter 2

Lydia jolted awake, feeling the cold chill of water sprinkled on her face. More tears followed to see her perpetrator smiling down at her. He catches her chin between his fingers, bringing their faces close together. "I have not waited so long to love my women. You're hard to please sweetheart."

He lets out a low chuckle. "It is a miracle. I can't seem to resist you." His hands grab her ankle, slowly moving upwards. She shivers as her bare legs come in contact with the cool air. It was still very early, sun barely on the horizon. She turned to her right, her gaze landing on the Honeysuckle tree, slowly being stripped off its early flowers by the harsh wind. She inhaled the rich aroma of the flowers, a sigh escaping her lips.

"But I can't force you. That would be wrong." She was startled to hear his voice as she is when he rubs her thighs. She suppressess the urge to whimper but her body betrays her enticing the beast in front of her. He squeezes her thigh, now fully exposed and covered in goosebumps. She takes in a sharp breath closing her legs. He seems to have given up moving his hand as he wonders to himself shaking his head.

He makes a face, as if that idea was incorrigible to him. "No, I would not stoop that low. No, no." He shakes his head again, in denial.

She had heard stories about the cruelty of the king towards women, which he embossed as adoration for them. An honor, in his words. Experiencing them in person terrified her.

"Your majesty, please, I-", she choked out amidst her sobs catching his hand mid thigh. "Yes, Lydia?" He leans in to kiss her exposed midriff while his other hand reaches all the way up her legs, stopping near its destination.

A wretched sound escaped her and she wails in disgust, anger and helplessness. He draws slow circles on her skin, feeling a shudder rip through her. He seems to be enjoying her reactions as he uncovers her from hip down, watching her twist and turn to the cool air. He kisses her breast, half licking it. She shudders against him. "Does it cool your heated self?"

He laughs at her, as if he cracked a legendary joke. The cold wind to her lower body makes her writhe against the mattress, partly due to shame and partly, the feeling. Foreign, yet euphoric. A soft moan of pain and pleasure escaped her lips.

Taking that as a sign of approval he reaches all the way up, leaving her to exhale a gust of air. The foreign feeling making her thoughts muddled, she goes limp in his arms, however torturous it seemed. Half of her wanted to throw up at the feeling of his hand on her while the other half wanted to throw itself into the same feelings. She had never felt as disgusted about anything as she did about herself, at that moment. Not even of the monster in front of her. 

She could see the cruel glint in his eyes, a glint of victory. She was close, so close to submitting to him. If not of willingness, at least of desperation. She was tired of going through the same drill every single morning, for the past two weeks. It was clear to her that in a few more days his restraint would falter and he would take away her virtue, even if she was not to consent. Like he did with all those women before her. He was already half way through destroying her self esteem. 

She understood one thing about him in this short time with him. That he was impatient and dramatic. She could not fathom how he made that work but since it was always on the expense of others, it made sense. His hands were now impatient on her yet moving in a way for him to bask in the thrill of it, the fear of his victim.

His calloused hand did not stop as he worked on removing whatever minimal cover that rumpled silk was offering her. His other hand however ran along her skin as he slowly traced the newly exposed areas. A shiver of euphoria shot through her and she arched her back, the fabric pooling around her hips.

A knowing chuckle escaped his lips. He was not expecting her to surrender that soon. He was hoping for more fight in her. Because more stubborn the conquest, the more he could play with it and more damaged they will be. In other sense, lesser chances of them going against him. He cheered at his sadistic victory over the now naked woman beneath him.

"If only you would stop this game...", he brings his hand back down to his side but his eyes won't leave her fully exposed legs. "You can be happy. I can give you anything..."

He murmured close to her ear locking her wrists above her head. She squirmed under his touch visibly shaking. The discomfort was there but she was feeling more numb by each passing day and used to the experience. He could see that she was giving up and her being in his arms was only a matter of time. So he runs the back of his right hand over her nose, lips, chin and then down to her neck.

She felt oddly thrilled and utterly disgusted. Yet she wanted him to move his hand further down and that he did. His fingers drummed her collar bones as he dragged them across the valley of her breasts. With each sharp intake of breath she felt her body react to his touch making her short of breath.

He moved to her stomach, past her naval and rested his hand at the base. He let his fingers play with the patch of hair running down her abdomen enjoying the emotions alternating in her face.

He moves his hand lower, eyes locked onto hers with a devilish glint when the minister barges into the room and without a glance to her announces in a grave tone. "Your Majesty, the spy has been apprehended." He look pleased with his fingers hovering close to her skin yet irritated at the same time for the interruption.

She looked back and forth between the men in shame. She was naked and couldn't seem to move. The man in front of her was violating her yet the minister stood there as if she was not lying there and the king has not accosted her. But before she could drown herself in self loathing or the king could refute, the minister threw out the bomb. "So is Prince Harold."