Lost Heritage

I had not been off the premises of Philippe’s mansion save once in the past 6 years, so needless to say I was awed and fascinated by the hustle and bustle of the city. I couldn’t keep the look of extreme curiosity off my face as the carriage window showed couples strolling, vendors selling their wares, street performers, and soldiers in their polished armor charming ladies in the streets. I glanced up to see Ryan starring at me. Amusement was written on all his features, from his twinkling eyes, to his handsome smirk. I found myself uncharacteristically blushing.

“Have you never been out of the trader’s house?” He asked, still smirking at my look of awe towards what he perceived to be the everyday dealings of an everyday city.

“Only once,” I heard myself say, “I was sent out to buy some groceries back when I was first put into Philippe’s care.” I refuse to say that I am purchased, to admit defeat is the worst defeat of all.

“Why did he not let you out again?” My new lord asked, reaching over to twirl a lock of my dark brown hair in his fingers as he continued, “Did he discover he could not bear to part with your beauty?”

“No,” I snapped, moving myself out of his reach. “I tried to run away. Philippe’s guards caught me before the sun fell. I was spanked and never allowed out of the mansion gates again.”

“Is that all?” Ryan asked raising an eyebrow, that damn smirk of his never leaving his face. He leaned in so his lips brushed my ear as his whispered threatening, “If you try to run away from me it will be more than a spanking you’ll receive from my hand.”

I could feel my body visibly shiver as he spoke, though I was unsure if it was because of his words, or the sensation of his lips and warm breath on my ear. I had no time to voice a smart reply for at that moment the carriage came to a jolting stop sending me flying into my lord. I sat up and pulled away from Ryan’s body quickly, fearing my body’s contact with his, no matter how brief it was.

He straightened himself up, his look of cheerful amusement replaced with one of disdain and contempt, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance for a reason I could not place. He opened the door to the carriage revealing a beautiful estate if I dare call such a dwelling a mere estate. It consisted of a house larger than I had ever seen, nay imagined, surrounded by a large expanse of green fields and greener forest with a deep blue pond to one side. For the second time that day I found myself speechless in awe. If I had ever though of a dream home, this would have to be it. I could see myself running barefoot in the grass, sleeping under a tree in the forest, swimming nude in the…

“Are you truly incapable of driving a carriage smoothly? Are you ready that much of a buffoon?” His voice cut through my train of thought like a knife. I now understood his annoyance, yet yelling at the poor man did seem to me to be the best course of action.

“Yelling at him is obviously the proper way of dealing with the problem,” I interjected sarcastically.

The look Ryan shot me was enough to make me want to run to the other side of the universe from him, but his earlier threat kept me glued to the ground where I stood, I did not want to suffer his anger on my first day. He turned from the man as walked toward me, looking much like a predator stalking its prey, slowly and carefully. Now more than ever I wished to run, yet it was morbid fascination of what was to come that currently held my legs still.

“Your temper is amusing to me, but be careful for if overused, it will only become aggravating,” Ryan said to me, his eyes cold and calculating and never leaving mine as he cruelly grabbed my wrists in a vice-like grip and pulled me into the house. If I my mind had not been solely occupied on the pain emanating from my lower forearms, I would have been awed for a third time. Yet at the time I was far too concerned about the idea of having large grotesque bruises on my wrists to notice anything, even where Ryan was leading me.

He flung me into a dark room and gave a rich deep chuckle which was strangely pleasant to the ears. He snapped his fingers and suddenly the lamp on the walls simultaneously burst into flames, lighting the room only enough for me to see the blood red bed lying in the center of it.

I turned to him, fear quaking in every inch of my body, I was no stranger to the knowledge of what goes on between a man and a woman, but I had never experienced it first hand. Now, I was afraid that I would, that this man who now called himself my master, would take away the only physical thing that still belong to me.

Ryan slowly walked toward me, his eyes filled with mischievous glint. Slowly he pushed me onto the bed, the lush velvet compressing below me. I looked up at him, our eyes locking as he lowered himself on top of me, silently pleading for him to stop and leave me. He lowered him mouth to my neck and slowly licked a mere inch of it. The sensations flooding my brain were driving me crazy as his slightly calloused hand traced circles on my hip. I barely stopped myself from moaning as he lightly nipped my collarbone, my body starting to feel flushed at his soft yet commanding ministrations. His hand traveled up from my waist to my right breast, softly kneading the mound in his hand, the teasing the nipple with his thumb through the thin material of my top. The heat of my body was starting to center at the apex of my thighs.

Suddenly his hands became placed on either side of my head. His eyes looking straight into mine as he spoke words that infuriated me, “Where’s your quick tongue now my sweet?”

I growled at him as I pushed him off me.

He walked towards the door, that damnable smirk plastered once again on his handsome face. He turned, with his hand on the doorknob, and said, “This is your room for as long you are with me, otherwise known as until your 16th birthday when I give you to the prince. And you never need fear of me touching you again, you have my word, the prince doesn’t like spoiled goods.”

He shut the door just as the satin encased pillow I had throw landed where his smug face had been milliseconds before. ‘It would serve him right if I become
“spoiled”,’ I thought. ‘Then his great plan would be ruined. What if I don’t want to be given as a pleasure slave to some snobbish prince?’

I stood up and walked over to the second door, which I had correctly assumed as leading to a bathroom. I splashed cold water on my warm face, cooling my skin as well as my temper. ‘Now if I could only do the same for the heat between my legs,” I though, subconsciously rubbing the spot where he lightly bit my collarbone. Starring in the mirror I noticed two red indents at the spot. ‘What the fuck? Fang marks?’