Chapter Text
The sun bathed the pavilion in a golden glow, its rays caressing your body at the right angles, making your dress shimmer amidst the lush garden. Diluc stood by the terrace attached to his study, a scroll in hand as he read the rest of the agreements outlined by his Inazuma business counterparts. Though absorbed with his work, eyes skimming through the letters in quick succession, he couldn’t resist stealing glances at you, a beautiful creature frolicking in the vibrant emerald grass, kitten captured in hand. The little pet had taken some persuasion (you might say your efforts paid off magnificently) to keep, namely how you’d gone on your knees to convince, very hard, he might add, him to accept.
He found this to be a peaceful scene, drowning in the beautiful image of his family (you and the cat – yes, you had managed to convince him to see the cat as family after all) while he delved into finalising the latest deal that he was sure he would be able to secure with little to no issues. When your kitten finally grew tired from running, he sees you come upon its defeated body, scooping the little thing into your arms as your lips coo adoringly at the tiny animal. Your laughter filled the corridor as you disappear into the house, loud whispers of love and affection permeating the walls as you settle the little kitten to bed.
Perhaps this was the right time, after all.
Diluc snapped the letters into a neat pile as he returned to his study room, settling the papers by his desk before he embarked on a search for you. Each step seemed to reverberate throughout his chest, heart pounding incessantly as if it yearned to break free from its bony confines. With a swift motion, he swiped his fiery locks behind his ears, revealing a face etched with determination as he made his way towards the kitchen.
Guided by the knowledge that you would be preparing lunch, the sun serving as a reminder of the time, Diluc relished this opportune moment. He surmised that this was the perfect time to conduct these activities as he knew the servants were granted a few weeks off due to the Ludi Harpastum festival in Mondstadt. As a result, the manor was pleasantly quiet save for the presence of you and him, and he preferred that tremendously for what he was about to do. The ambience of silence in the manor was only amplified by your constant presence… and his desires in the dead of the night. As he approached the kitchen, anticipation coursed as a flame licking its core. He was aware of precisely what he was about to do – to revel in the forbidden nature of some wicked rendezvous, a lust heightened by the vivid fantasies that bubbled beneath his skin.
He settled by the kitchen door, arms folded in a domineering fashion as he leaned against the frame. You felt the intensity of his gaze fixed on your figure, a fiery desire dancing behind his crimson eyes as he observed you closely. With a huff of displeasure, he pressed his tongue onto the back of his teeth to hold his tongue, gritting his jaw tightly as his eyes scanned your body, scrutinising your choice of clothing for the day.
That dammed dress.
It looked tauntingly restrictive, clinging onto your curves to accentuate your form in every breath you took. As though that wasn’t ridiculous enough clothing for household chores, you had donned that absurd corset, one which pulled snugly around your waist and clinched at its peak. “To keep the sleeves from sagging down when I’m working.” You had reasoned. Yet, why does the hem of your skirt ride higher than usual, layered above your knee? Why did your neckline dip low, barely concealing the apex of your breasts as you shuffled around the kitchen floors? Was this part of the work too? There was an unspeakable allure to your actions, one that he would never be able to pinpoint, but he had long stopped trying to understand your motivations.
One thing he did note, however, was that you exclusively wore this peculiar “work dress” when the other servants went sent away. A subtle smirk played at the corner of his lips as he made a mental note – you’re showing this to me, and I will relish it.
If one must know something about Diluc Ragnvindr, it is that he has a strong sense of justice and unwavering loyalty to those he cares for. While it was no secret that he would resort to unorthodox methods at times (somehow, an Abyss Mage had been found with third-degree burns after a particularly strong session of ‘interrogation’), he was as kind as can be to the ones he loved – and you had no doubt he loved you very much.
And so, it was not entirely a surprise when Diluc presented with initial abhorrence, perhaps even fear, at the scenario you suggested. “What if I don’t know that you truly want to stop?” He had asked, brows furrowed in concentration as he took in your demands. Once again, your smart tongue found a witty response. Of course, you did. “That’s why we have a word, one that sounds totally unappealing to say while in the act, something like…. Radish? If that word comes, you know to stop.”
“What if I hurt you?” He had asked next, fingers brushing your hair away to meet your gaze. There was no question that he was the stronger of you two, having wielded a claymore for most of his life, and he was significantly taller, towering over you with his statue at every chance he got. The concern etched upon his face had warmed your heart then, and it assured you of one thing (one so important but sometimes overlooked) – he would never hurt you for his desires. As days passed, you understood his concern for your vulnerability under him, citing the days when you would wake up barely able to crawl yourself out of your bed. Compared to his figure, you were too fragile; easy to bruise, easy to break, and so terribly small that he was afraid every time that you would shatter into pieces if he pushed it too far.
“Luc, a couple of bruises won’t hurt me… if I were really in pain, I would have said Radish, right?”
Nestled comfortably across his lap, you hummed in pleasure as he tenderly ran his fingers through your hair. Aware of its impact, you invoked his endearing nickname, one reserved for intimate moments between a man and his wife, to push your point. A mixture of shock and adoration flickered over his expression as he contemplated your carefree response, secondary to a creeping thought of concern about whether you were this nonchalant about being in the face of potential danger. Yet, as you giggled underneath his grasp, he shook away his thoughts to maintain his stern exterior. Deep down, he knew exactly who he married – someone whose unique descriptions often carried an air of whimsical peculiarity.
In other words, he could say you were quite odd.
But he loved you anyways, and in his eyes, that was good enough for him.
When he had agreed to it, after much reassurance from you about how things would not go wrong, he had a few words to end the touching conversation. After all, the way you exhibited such unwavering trust in him, strong enough to thrust your dignity and safety into his hold, painted a scene of undeniable love… however morbid it may seem. At that moment, he vowed to cherish that gift with all his heart, to encase it in a glass container that only he could admire. For you, he allotted a delicate balance of impenetrable quality, to be protected within the sheltered cocoon of his hand but free to explore the boundless world outside to your liking.
His agreement rolled off his tongue faster than he could remember, and he would forever savour that pleased look on your face as you rolled off the bed, bouncing towards the lounge quarters to send the workers off before their break. He had stopped you then, grabbing your wrist with bruising force, a stark reminder of what was soon to come. “Liebling”, He whispered tenderly, the most elusive of smiles pinned on his usually impassive features. Pivoting around to face him, your eyes locked onto each other’s gaze, conveying an overwhelming intensity of lust and the affection of two souls bound as devoted partners.
“Hmm?” You questioned, a hint of curiosity lacing your voice as you straightened yourself as he released his hand. Tilting your head upwards, you met his gaze, returning his smile with one of your own. Before you knew it, a warmth enveloped your glowing heart as he placed a fond hand on your head.
“I want you to understand that all that I say during our venture does not reflect what I truly think of you.” He had reminded you, words embedded with sincerity as he planted a sock peck against the side of your check before he ushered you away to fulfil your duties.
“I know!” You called out as you dashed down the stairs. “I know.”
Even then, a lingering fear coursed through him, a desperate dead centred around the possibility that you would crumble beneath his touch, break under his spell and come to despise his every action. Though he couldn’t deny that the wicked fantasies that you had spelled out had prodded his mind before, he had always restrained himself, holding back his palm for the sake of your small frame and delicate nature. Yet, you had just stood before him, requesting him to engage in such… activities.
How interesting.
His gaze lingered on your actions for a little longer, taking in the subtle details; you on your toes to reach for a vial of spices that he most definitely had not placed so high up so that he could mellow in that sight of you huffing in annoyance as you tried, but ultimately always failed, to reach for it. As his heart pumped, he found that his blood was laced with fiery desire, heating every core of his body as he stared. It wasn’t his vision… he had set that back on the table in his office before he came here.
No… It was you…
An irritated groan escaped your lips, surrendering to the frustration that lingered in the air as you settled yourself back onto your feet. The untouched spice bottle now became the centre of your attention, your pouting glower so adorable that this defeat tugged at the corners of Diluc’s mouth, coaxing forth a smile as you huffed away something along the lines of “Well, fine, I don’t need you to make a good stew anyways!”. As you leaned forwards to check the oven’s temperature, a surge of anticipation coursed through him, prompting him to uncross his arms and strut forwards, each tread accompanied by domineering quality. The distinct click-clack of his low heels reverberated around the room, alerting you of his presence immediately. As you widened your eyes at his advancing figure, he felt an untouched desire to claim your delicate porcelain neck, being able to grasp onto the pale, pretty skin as he tightened his hold, a stake of his declaration. Some part of him thought that he should not feel that bloom of desire at your fearful, yet undeniably aroused, expression, but in this exact moment, he could not bring himself to care.
Nowhere to run, it seems.
You pressed yourself against the kitchen wall, feeling a sticky sensation of both anticipation and nervousness coursing through your veins as he closed in on you. His eyes glimmered with an insatiable hunger, speaking volumes about his primal desires as his body gave into a devilish yearning for you. For a tense few seconds, no words were exchanged as he came to a halt inches away from your body, his commanding presence towering over your pitiful frame.
It wasn’t that you didn’t know who your husband was – he was everything. Smart, hardworking, kind, wealthy, the most eligible bachelor of Mondstadt, the “Uncrowned King”. Yet, there was a fragment of his actions that the people of Mondstadt often neglected to mention, a side that he would only show to the most brutal of criminals that he arrested on his nightly patrols. Without question, Diluc was an intimidating figure, evident from how he conducted himself on the streets and how the Knights, all of whom no longer worked under him, treated him with irrefutable respect. In some cases (you giggled about it afterwards), you witnessed how he could instil fear among his former subordinates with disappointed words and an unsheathed claymore. You knew he wasn’t necessarily brutal (archons forbid); he was far from some of the vile creatures that stalked Tevyat at night, though you could not deny that he was capable of more violence than most people attributed him to. To maintain his persona, his gentlemanly politeness and noble upbringing had shaded away most of his barbaric side, presenting only what the world expected from the esteemed Diluc Ragnvindr – noble, polite, desirable.
Yet, at the very end, he was still a fighter, one that would use a swift swipe of his claymore to slaughter those who threatened his nation, or his property, with little to no remorse. Though you may deny it out of shame, you had always been curious about what lay beneath his surface of gentlemanly politeness; was there a primal side waiting to be awakened every time he bedded you?
Then, a flicker of a prying flame started burning. Something that wanted nothing more than for him to pin you down and ravish every inch of your being. Something that craved to see him become undone by your pretty words and pushed to the limits by your impertinence. After all, it was always a trait that had brought you two together; your uncanny ability to always talk back had interested him so intensely that it spawned conversation after another… Now, that was a thought for another day, but it would be a comfort to know that he relived the moments of your meeting in his darkest moments.
What a pretty little sunshine.
He clicked his tongue in a show of displeasure before he parted his lips to speak, eyes piercing down at you with an intense, almost cruel fury. “Look what we have here.” He uttered in a low growl, poising his fingers by the base of your chin as he forced a tilt upwards, ensuring that you now looked straight into his commanding visage. A flash of excitement ignited within your eyes, an undeniable betrayal of your eagerness as you willingly indulged in his unassailable hold. Without faltering, you tried to control your hammering heart as he leaned forwards, capturing your lips in a salty kiss that has you panting in his hold.
“Get off me.” Through incoherent breaths, you forcefully bit onto the pad of his lip, relishing how a glint of pain surfaced across his face when you pushed him away with determination. To your surprise, he staggered back a few spaces, wiping away the blood from his mouth with a predatory grin etched upon his face. As he regained composure, blotting away the blood from his split lip, you hastily smoothened out the ruffles of your dress, desperately trying to conceal your exposed knee.
Stupid dress. You thought, cursing as the fabric bounced back onto your thighs. Far too accessible in a moment like this…
Before he could recollect his bearings, your eyes caught sight of something nearby on the bench – a potential weapon to level the playing field. With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you lunged forwards at the object, only to retreat with a defeated yelp as your arm was sharply yanked backwards. In a flurry of movement, you found yourself abruptly slammed against the wall, feeling its unforgiving surface pressing tightly against your trembling body.
“So… innocent…” He drawled as he toyed with the edges of your face by squeezing his fingers around your cheeks while he leaned forwards, effectively pressing his body against yours and pinning you firmly against the wall. A sinister grin played on his lips as he savoured every ounce of control over your body, his hold on you intensifying with each breathless moment, leaving no doubt about who held authority. As he spoke, the brush of his warm breath ghosting over your temple sent a rush of heat to flood the space between your legs, their progress halted only by how you squeezed your legs shut together. “I’d suggest your cooperation.”. With a derisive chuckle at your futile resistance, he remarked with domineering energy, “Pathetic.”.
Through teary eyes, you pleaded with him through your blurring vision as his relentless hold kept you captive. Desperation surged within you as you crushed your palm against his chest, a mocking attempt to pull himself off you. “Please.” You begged, feeling the ache between your legs grow stronger as he eyed you with his crimson globes. The heat radiating from his skin was now palpable, his hardness pressing insistently against you as a symbol of his desire. At the same time, you were constantly reminded of his love when you felt the thrumming of his heart underneath his white blouse. Each breath he exhaled was a scorching flame against your skin, suffusing to the tense atmosphere of the room. His words reverberated with an unmistakable danger that sent chills down your spine, a sensation unlike anything you’d ever experienced before in the presence of your loving husband.
With a mighty shift, he seized your wrist and pinned both your hands above your head, his fingers wrapping around them like unyielding chains. His other hand came upon your shoulder blades, exerting pressure to draw you closer to him. Leaning forwards with a macabre smile that sent shivers down your spine, he revelled in the overpowering control he now wielded over your body. As he trailed his fingers toward the nape of your neck, his fingers dug into your delicate flesh, sending a blend of throbbing pleasure to pulse throughout your body. Instantly, blood rushed to your surface, tinting every inch of your skin with a rosy hue while every spot he touched tingled under his skin. When you squirmed, he softly chuckled, “Please what, my lady?” He whispered into your ear, licking the shell of your sensitive skin as you whined underneath him.
A gasp involuntarily escaped your parted lips as his roaming fingers culminated with a painful clutch against the small nape of your neck, the intense pressure compelling you to look at him. Whispering faintly, you uttered, “Please don’t take me… I’m just a girl.” The vulnerability in your voice echoed through the air.
Against your ear, he erupted into maniacal laughter, hand never faltering while his amusement summoned a trickle of anxiety. Deep down, you knew there was some truth to those whispered words – an undeniable contrast between his noble lineage and your common blood. Yet, he had always vehemently refused these interpretations, always maintaining that the era of nobility in Mondstadt was long over. He defied all distinctions, evidently caring little for societal expectations when he wed you in the chapel, declaring that the Ragnvindr clan’s wealth and prestige came second to earning the privilege of having you by his side… in sickness and in health… till death do us part.
“A precious girl.” He reiterated, his words coated with possessive desire as he pressed another lingering kiss against your flushed cheeks. Your body squirmed under his touch, submitting to the lust and unease coursing through your veins when his teeth grazed against your tender flesh. The short respite you gathered from releasing his hand against your nape was abruptly cut short as he sent you against the wall again with a sharp force. The moment's intensity heightened as his free hand slid beneath the pitiful fabric of your dress, fingers travelling up your trembling legs until it rested upon the softness of your thighs – an unmistakable warning of what was yet to come. “One worth taking… I might add,” he sneered with a dry laugh. With a hungry lust, his lips descended upon yours forcefully, disregarding any resistance as his tongue pried open your pursed lips effortlessly. With every lap of his tongue and forceful press of his lips, you found yourself drowning in the suffocating invasion of his intrusion, unable to escape its consuming grasp as he relished claiming your lips for his own. The hungry caress lasted a few agonising minutes as he savoured every taste, licking over every drop of sickly fluid between your lips. When you fought back too fiercely for his liking, his teeth clamped down upon your swollen lips mercilessly, adding an edge of pain to the overwhelming heat flooding your body.
When he pulled away, a sticky line of saliva connected your lips together as you glared at him through your half-lidded eyes. As he towered over you, you held your stance, a defiant glare simmered beneath your skin as you remained brazen in the face of his dominance. You grimaced as you felt the unmistakable familiar nectar of stickiness padding at the sensitive petals within your undergarments, confirming your arousal at the manipulation under his thumb. A voice deep within whispered for you to surrender to his demands, to collapse under him and succumb to his every whim as he had his way with you. Yet, your unwavering determination and the need to push his buttons further prevented you from taking the easy way out. You craved for the rawness by which he would grip your flesh, leaving purple marks of ownership upon every inch of your body until no one could challenge what was rightfully his.
You would play this game until he broke; in return, he would shatter you.
In your will, you launched a swift knee upwards onto his elbow when his fingers slithered towards your rear. With a hiss, he involuntarily recoiled, giving you a window of a few seconds to play your part. Seizing your opportunity, you slipped free from under his other outstretched arm and dashed towards the door – a desperate bid for escape.
It was an impressive attempt; he’d give you that.
You took no more than a few steps before his hands swiftly found their way into your hair, entwining his fingers into your locks as he forcefully tugged you back. With a defeated squeal, you were pulled deep into his embrace with a maddening strength that left no room for escape. He closed his arms around your trembling torso, binding you to his with possessive determination.
“Please.” You pleaded as you felt his arms tighten around you.
His voice softened as he saw the sweetness on your face, “Where do you think you’re headed?” He questioned gently, his grip on your hair firm as he whipped you around to face him. A smug grin played across his face as a cruel satisfaction danced across his pupils, clearly pleased that he had managed to capture you so easily. With a not-so-gentle push onto the top of your head, he sent you crashing onto the floor as every muscle gave up on your defiance. The force pushed your legs behind you, splaying them in opposite directions as you pressed the palm of your hands against the flat surface, desperately trying to steady yourself and prevent a complete collapse. Lifting your gaze towards him, your globes were wide, innocent and vulnerable, filled with conquered fright against his flaming red irises. The sight before him struck a deep chord – a tableau that would linger in his memory for days. Perhaps, it would even become the object of his most vivid fantasies, a cinematic visual that he would replay when he fisted himself to the thought of you.
As the sound of an unbuckled belt came to your ears, you shook your head vehemently, refusing to give in to his desires. The cruel smirk forming on his delicate features ignited a sinful knot of desire and denial within you – an intoxicating blend that consumed every ounce of your senses. The blatant rejection left your inner thighs slick with anticipation, your blood pounding relentlessly at the mere thought of finally surrendering to the cataclysmic pleasure that awaited you.
“No,” you whimpered defiantly, turning your head away to avoid witnessing the scene that unfolded before you. “I will bite you,” you spat out a warning when his hands gripped your cheeks, forcefully redirecting your gaze towards his hardened appendage. Despite the nights you had taken him in all positions over the bed, the kitchen countertops, or even against the windows overlooking your terrace, the sight never failed to impress. And unfortunately for you, he was well-endowed (the rumours preceded him – though you were sure nobody had any empirical evidence), and evident by the bead of primary arousal that had started to glisten on the tip of his manhood, he appeared ready to use what he was given.
An indulgent chuckle escaped his lips as he stroked your face, admiring how your eyes had started brimming with tears at the impending motion. “A pretty, precious little thing.” He fussed with deceptive gentleness while his gaze was laced with malevolent intent. His fingers dug into your skin, leaving purple marks (you were sure you’d meet them again tomorrow) to match the tightness of his grasp. “Let’s make use of such precious property, shall we?” He mused wickedly. With a surge of pleasure, he forcefully thrust his throbbing appendage between your sweet little red lips, relishing in the sight as it slipped with painful denial into the depths of your waiting orifice. Having been spread to its limits, the tender flesh elicited a series of gagging and whimpering sounds from you, a symphony of pleasure and vulnerability that sent shockwaves of pleasure through his length once more.
A single tear traced a path down your cheek, a testament to his forceful intrusion that left you gasping for breath. The relentless thud of flesh against the back of your throat, combined with the sounds of wet squelching and sputtering, sent even thicker arousal to pool between your legs as you choked under his hold. Desperation and the need to rebel fuelled your futile attempt to escape, pushing the palms of your hands against his thighs as you clawed into his pants.
He allowed your games to continue for a little while, eyes dancing in delight at how pathetic you appeared through all your worthless attempts. Soon, he grew bored of your struggles, seizing both your wrists in one commanding grip before effortlessly raising them above your head to hold you firmly in place. He entwined the fingers of his free hand within the strands of your hair, palming and coercing you to accept his violent thrusts. Each motion caused wild delirium to ripple as you attempted to speak, only to release a few guttural gargles that he shadowed over with a devilish chuckle.
“Shh.” He whispered, tenderly stroking the back of your hair – a façade of lovingness that he allowed you in this intimacy. “It’ll be over soon.” His voice dripped with the vivacity of mockery, each word laced with condescension as his eyes bore into yours through every move.
After a few thrusts, he appeared to find minimal pleasure from your lips. Ignoring the drool and tears that streamed down your chin, he swiftly pulled you out from beneath him, pressing his heated body against yours as you were captured within his strong arms, forced to listen to the rhythm of his heart as it matched the thud of your own, supplementing the intensity while he panted with feral yearning into your ear. Without warning, he dragged you towards the clear countertop, a surface that allowed him to commence his harshness. Laying you upon its marbled expanse with brutal force, he positioned himself between your legs – a cruel figure ready to claim what was rightfully his.
“Please, please don’t!” You cried out fruitlessly as he continued to pursue his desires, his fingers curled possessively around your trembling thighs, forcefully spreading them apart to make room for himself between. A rush of delight and apprehension tingled down the side of his neck as you felt the tip of his firm length pressed against your delicate folds. The slickness of your arousal coated his throbbing appendage, further fuelling his lust as he left nips all over your tender neck. As he inched forwards, your small size forced him back as a sharp pain shot up your spine. He unsheathed his tip from within you with a huff of displeasure, cursing at how your small body tightened to dispel him.
“I apologise.” He mocks, gripping your trembling thighs harder as he fixates on the heated core between your legs. “It seems you need to be prepared.” He taunted, drawing out two fingers and coating them in your saliva as he spread your lips. When adequately lubricated, his fingers come upon your entrance to slide inside with no resistance, aided by the viscous fluid dripping down your legs. “I’m doing this for you, little girl.” He grunts, pumping a few delicious thrusts using his middle and ring finger into your willing body, watching in amusement as his digits disappear and a desperate mewl was drawn from you in return.
“Please don’t….” You griped dazedly beneath him, clawing at his body as he continued his ministrations without relenting, fully immersed in the pursuit of pleasure. For a long moment, he did nothing but pump those digits within you until the nectar started to build between his fingers, and he finally pulled them out from you. His fingers, rough and calloused from wielding a claymore, now glistened with a coated surface that dripped with a sultry stream of nectar when he spread them apart. His teeth gritted in anticipation, feeling his resolve break as you covered your face with your hands, eyes peeking through your small fingers to look at him with lust-filled eyes that spoke of love and longing.
Little girls need to be fucked good until they stop being difficult.
With unparalleled ferocity, he impatiently seized your thighs. His eyes burned with unbridled desire as he aligned his member with the entrance of your quivering core, thrusting the tip of his length in with no warning or restraint. Despite his attempts at spreading you apart prior and how slick you were for him, the penetration would always catch you off guard. You writhed under his hold, kicking your legs apart as your feet curled in the zap of debilitating lust that engulfed you. “No!” You screamed frantically, scratching at any flesh you could find on him as he continued to inch slowly in, each motion being pushed against tightness and natural resistance from your smaller body. “Get off me!” You continued while your swollen petals strained to adjust to him, feeling the curves of every vein on his appendage as his girth tore at your flesh. “It- It hurts. Please. Please,” you cried out through tears streaming down your flushed cheeks, both a plea for mercy and an insatiable longing for more.
His dark eyes glossed over you with a penetrating gaze, his sight lurking dangerously beneath his lowered eyelashes. He watched your movements, the mewls and whines while your legs kicked at him and how close you were to your limit. His focus lingered on your lips, vigilant should you ever utter the words that would end this dramatic endeavour immediately. Yet, as you turned your head in surrender and a faint flush spread across your cheeks, he discerned an undeniable truth – that you revelled as fervently as he did at this moment. Shameless little girl. The realisation propelled him to continue with his untamed actions, drawing out more screams of pleasure and fulfilment from your tight little mouth with every thrust.
With an agonising shove, he plunged himself deep inside you – a sensation so intense that it felt like every inch of him was stretching you to your limits. Your mewl chorused with the sound of squelching, your body contorting under his impalement as the bulge at the tip of your belly showed his complete sheathing. The sight of your ravaged form and the shriek escaping your lips nearly shattered what little ounce of self-control remained within him. “You’re my property.” He growled coldly, pressing his palm over your quivering lips as he leaned closer. “And I do.” His breath mingled with yours as he claimed you once more, a thrust sending a flutter of nectar to escape as the collision between your bodies intensified. Every relentless pound drew out whimpering cries, echoing in harmony against his primal grunts. “What I want.” Another thrust leaves you in shambles at his hand as though he hadn’t destroyed you enough already. “To my property.” He demanded, punctuating each demand with more pounding, each one driving deeper into your depths than the one before. The desperation in his breathing washed over you as he ground his teeth while he watched you clench your eyes shut beneath him, savouring how you were powerless to do anything but accept what you were given. His hands cupped your face, bearing witness to the dampness on your cheeks as you whimpered, hoping his touch would impart a soothing sense of affection despite his relentless domination.
“I am not….” You began, defiance burning in your eyes as you sink your teeth into his hand, forcing him to release his grip on your muffled cries. “Your property!” You let out a livid shout as you swiftly swung your arm against his chest in an attempt for a strike. It was all in vain, as it always had been and as it always would be. His hand effortlessly intercepted yours mid-air, strong fingers closing around your shaky fingers like a venomous vice. The brief contact served as a harsh reminder of his dominance, a message about who was in control.
Growling with intensity, he forcefully flipped you over to press your chest flat against the marbled surface while he leaned over your exposed back. “You need to learn,” he snarled, voice dripping with authority, “to stop resisting.” He fastened his fingers over yours to slam your palm flat onto the surface as he leered over your small frame, leaving a blazing kiss on the back of your head. “So disobedient,” he chided through gritted teeth as he continued his relentless thrusts. “So disrespectful.” He sneered as he sent another thrust into your unwilling body, smashing your hips against the counter painfully as he relished in your whimpers and cries.
As he continued his thrusts, the image of you bent over that square top awakened a primal fire within him. A comparison of such. “You look like a little bitch in heat,” he taunted, stroking your wild hair. “A little cub who’s going through her first mate.” At his words, you felt your cavern tighten – there was something arousing about how primal you had reduced your usually stoic husband, someone who did not falter easily. Little bitch (okay, you needed to hear that again sometime). “Does it feel good, little girl?” He goaded, pressing his lips over your ear as he lavished attention on the sensitive shell of your ear, each lick sending tremors of pleasure to course through every nerve ending until you melted under his seductive breath.
You bit your tongue as you conjured a scathing reply, whipping your head around to shoot him a venomous look before uttering, “If I’m a bitch in heat, then you’d be a feral animal.”
A particularly harsh thrust reduced your legs to jelly as you cried out, clearly a pay-back for whatever nonsense you had sprouted this time. “I’d rather be feral than in the position you’re in, bent over and fucked like a brainless animal.” He presses your head onto the surface to make a point, ignoring how you whimpered against the marble at his roughness. “Having no choice but to take the seed of whoever is strong enough to overpower her.” He snarled, hands curling around the back of your skull as he continued his unrelenting pounds that left you breathless and yearning for more.
The promise of mating seed sent your mind into a frenzy as you managed a witty response, a provocative challenge that ticked every rational part of him. “Maybe someone else will be stronger next time…” Terrible idea.
He growled against your ear, his painful clench against your neck showing his fury as he squeezed it tight, letting you take in a trickle of air before he continued thrusting. “No man would claim you with a full belly, Liebling,” He muttered through gritted teeth, forcing your head up to stare into the white walls, fingernails digging into your neck as he captured it within his grasp. “Poor little girl,” he mocks, a twisted smile dancing on his lips, “having no choice but to carry my child.” The whimper of pain that escapes you tingled his senses, drawing him to continue a harder pound to elicit more heavenly sounds. “Don’t cry, little angel,” He coos, pressing a kiss against your temple as he thrusts, “It’s not good for the babe when the mother is upset.”
Tears ran down your cheeks now from the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and the roughness by which he claimed you. “It hurts,” You whined, shaking your head with what little strength you had left.
“Good,” He declared, not slowing his movements despite your complaints. “It means I’m deep enough inside your fertile little womb.”
“Please!” You cried out, feeling the press of his length against your cervix when he tilted your rear up slightly. “Diluc…” You whimpered. “Diluc, Diluc…” His name was a chant now, your head unable to comprehend anything other than the slight of your husband plunging deep into you relentlessly.
“Are you crying out for my seed, little angel?” He asked softly, palming onto your sides as you felt yourself tighten around him, clamping fiercely down onto his appendage as though you were afraid he would let go.
“No!”
A smooth chuckle escapes him as he clicks his tongue in disapproval, stilling momentarily to press his lips against your skin. “I don’t care how long I have to do this… In whatever position I have to maximise the potential…” He growled in warning at you clawed at the surface underneath him. “I will ravage you, violate you, use you in whatever circumstance I desire until you grow round with my child….” The promise has you tightening once more. “Do you understand?”
“What makes you think I won’t run away? After all this is done, you’ll never see me again.” You hissed in an attempt to provoke him further, spitting words of nonchalance to rile up his response. You were immediately aware of how rougher he clamped down onto your rear, a signal that your words had pushed him across some invisible line.
“I wouldn’t worry about that.” He continued thrusting, his voice low and his breath hot against your skin.
“You can’t lock me up.” You spat, but before another word could escape your lips, a quick and deep pound silenced you instantly as a desperate mantra of moans and begs tumbled out. Whines of please, or perhaps even it hurts, fell on deaf ears as he replaced each word with chuckles and groans of his own pleasure.
“Nobody would know.”
When he stilled behind you, unsheathing himself briefly from your aching core, an intense longing flooded within you for his return, your body already craving the delicious sensation of him filling you once again. Panting like a rabid animal, you flipped your head around to catch wind of what he was planning, but the way his hands scooped you into his arms in a split second caught you off guard. “Diluc?!” You cried out in question, limbs tangled in his embrace as he brought you against the wall.
“Hands against the wall, little girl.” He impaled himself within you once more, pressing his chest against your back to stop any hint of resistance. Your toes tickled against the floor as you were caged within his height, barely touching as you found no handle to stabilise yourself. A sense of vulnerability washed over you as he noticed your struggle to steady yourself. “You poor little girl, look at you...” He reached out his hand to guide your palm against the wall, holding it in position while he imparted a few delicious thrusts that had you whining into the wall. “You can’t even put your feet on the ground to run away…” He teased, eyeing how your toes curled in response and you tried in vain to reach the floor. “Don’t worry, little angel… You wouldn’t get very far at all…”
“Please…” You whimpered into the cool surface of the wall, tears smearing across the wood as he pounded harshly. His hands found purchase on your breasts, palming the soft supple flesh within his hand as his fingers found the sensitive nub on your mounds. Owing to the little babe that slept peacefully in the nursery, a trickle of milk beaded through onto his fingers. “Stop!” You cried, feeling a sensation of wetness dribble down your breast as he continued his fondling.
“Ah…” He halted momentarily, bringing his fingers into the light to see the cream-coloured liquid coating his digits. “I overlooked how you fed the little babe.” His words were laced with fondness at the thought of his sleeping child, birthed by the woman he adored.
“Yes… so s-stop…” You stammered.
“No… I don’t think so.” He responded in turn, his hands continuing their exploration to gather more from your breasts. You writhed under his hold, unable to do anything but press yourself against the wall, held up only by how he impaled his appendage into your core. Beads of milk ran down your chest, dribbling down to your hips when he forced a rough pull onto your teats.
“If my baby doesn’t have enough milk because you wasted it all, I will make you find me some equivalent of motherly milk for the child!” You growled, cheeks flushed in ecstasy and slight irritation as you saw the milk streaming down your body.
“You can carry another baby then… and your milk will be plentiful.”
“That…!” You tried to reply, but he flipped you around so roughly that you were cut off. “That’s not what I mean!” You curled your arms around his nape as your legs snared around his back, tightening behind him as he thrust into you. In this new position, you could gaze upon his fairness, eyeing how his crimson eyes burned hotly onto your flesh and his fiery locks were a mess around his shoulders.
He was undeniably the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and that caused a wave of insecurity to wash over your face.
“I always thought Master Diluc would marry a noblewoman from Fontaine… He does quite some business there, doesn’t he?”
“What about the acting Grandmaster? Wasn’t he quite fond of her when he was younger?”
“You really shouldn’t be saying these things when he’s married…”
“Who cares? It’s not like his wife is going to hear me.”
When he pulled out from within you, troubled by the anxiety etched across your face, you pulled him in tighter. “Is… is there something wrong?” You asked softly, your voice laced with nervousness at the thought that he had lost his attraction to your body, strong enough to make him stop his advances. Seeking solace for your trepid heart, you released your left arm from around his neck, pressing your hand against your flushed cheeks in a desperate attempt to feel the coolness of the wedding band on your fingers.
“Liebling.” His words summoned you back from your daze, and his eyes narrowed against your frame as you looked away. “You’re afraid.” He stated, his observation cutting through the tense air as he tilted your chin forwards, compelling you to meet his unwavering gaze.
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
Finally, a chain within you broke as you spat out, “Why did you marry me?” The voice in your head chastising you as you quivered, “I had no property to offer, no name….”
Shock momentarily crosses his face before he sighs, pushing back a strand of your hair and tucking it behind your ears. “If that pretty little head of yours can think irrelevant thoughts like these….” He whispered, capturing your lips in a kiss. “Then… I’m not performing as splendidly as you would like me to believe?” He teased as he drew you into an embrace, tucking his chin comfortably into your neck and peppering kisses against your shoulders. “Is the babe sleeping in the room next door not a sigil of our love? Do you need another reminder?”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I think another child would busy you enough to take your mind off it.”
“Diluc!” You pushed his chest, bringing him in front of you as you tried to hide your flushed cheeks, reminded of how he was still buried inside you as he twitched in response. “You should be doing this because you love me… not anything else.”
“More than anything in Tevyat,” He reassured you, nipping at your neck to leave marks littered against your porcelain skin. “The only woman who has carried my offspring, the only one who will ever have a swollen belly from my seed.”
A sense of relief washed over you at his fondness, allowing you to relax into his body as he enveloped you in his warmth. “Do you mean what you said?”
He let out a light chuckle. “Do I appear untrustworthy to you?”
“That’s not what I’m suggesting!” You whined grumpily, locking your legs around him tighter. “Continue…?”
“Be quiet then.” He growled, taking the look of blessed affection on your face as a signal for him to continue his thrusts, sending pound after pound into your cavern until you become nothing but a blubbering mess beneath his touch. After a few unrelenting moments, the stretch of your legs burnt from the acidity of the activity, and you found yourself growing limp in his hold. With a fond sigh, he cradled you against his body as he stepped away from the wall, holding you tight as he brought you to the bedroom. Laying you on the soft mattress, he towered over you, caging your frame to the bed as he lapped at your ear and left nips on your body, littering them over your chest and neck.
“Diluc?” You asked tentatively as he stopped, his fingers fisting into your hair as he forced a rough tug.
“Day after day, I bed you, and you still dare to question my affection for you.” He growled into your ear, tightening his hand around your throat as you squirmed beneath him. “Perhaps you need to always be with babe to remember.” He pressed his lips onto your throat, sucking with fervent ardour until a bright purple mark surfaced. “Perhaps I need to have you chained up, bred like an animal, before you acknowledge my love.” In one fluid movement, he thrusts into your space, pressing against the depths of your womb while the tip of his throbbing manhood poked teasingly against the soft flesh of your belly. A sharp cry echoed around the room as you whimpered, hands shaking as you tried to wrap your arms around his back. “Perhaps I need to take you in front of the servants, arms bound as you can do nothing but accept what I give you, granting you no respite as I take you over and over again, allowing all who wish to question my loyalty to see you drown in pleasure that only I can give.” He chuckles as he feels you tighten around his appendage, trying your hardest to milk him of his seed. “Oh? You would like that, would you?” He taunted, growling into your ear. “So tight when I said that.” He pressed his palm against your belly, feeling how deep he was within you. “I’m afraid I don’t have a habit of sharing… When the servants are back, you can scream, shout, moan, be as loud as you want until the whole estate hears you in your pathetic state, but this sight is for me only.”
You whimper in response. “I don’t…”
“No.” He snarled, pulling you down onto the bed so he could thrust deeper into you, his hands around your sides as he eyes drank in the wonderful scene of your copulation. “I’m not letting you go. Stay here.” He warned, dragging his fingers across the sensitive nub of your core, pleasuring the bundle of nerves by rubbing his digits across it as he continued his ministrations. “Don’t cry, little girl. It started to feel good a while ago, didn’t it?” He leaned forwards, pressing his forehead against yours as he smiled at your pathetic figure. “You want more….” He clicked his tongue in irritation as you writhed, arms pulling him onto you as you let out incoherent whimpers and whines that sounded a lot like “more”. “But disobedient girls like you need to be punished.” He declared ominously.
The pain between your legs was difficult to ignore now, the ache for release while feeling his girth flooding your insides. “Please…” You managed through pants, giving him innocent eyes as he continued pounding.
“Beg again… and I’ll let you.”
“Please…” You tried again, hands covering your face. “Please…!”
“Good girl.” He rode out your pleasure with unwavering determination, sending violent thrusts into your core until he felt you tighten around his grasp, an intoxicating sensation that pushed him across the line. His release spilled forth within you, warmth cascading into the depth of your womb. “Such a pretty womb when it’s filled,” He murmured possessively through heavy breaths, remaining intimately connected to your as his hands cupped your belly as if guarding his precious seed against escaping. “And if this doesn’t take now…” A mischievous glint flickered in his eyes as he planted a kiss onto your tender womb, “I can bed you again later…. So if I were you,” He whispered darkly against your flesh, “I would start hoping… or else I’ll have to fuck you rough again… and I’m not sure little bodies like yours can take it, hm? Though even if you did lose consciousness… I wouldn’t mind fucking you like that anyways.”
You whined when he pulled out, your core already yearning for the fullness of his appendage. As he stroked at your hair, a calming gesture, he seamlessly transitioned back into his usual demeanour. His unwavering eyes remained fixated on your skin as he meticulously checked for wounds, his brows furrowing when he found marks of yellow bruises that had started to form around the inner flesh of your thighs. Despite you swatting his hand away and constantly reassuring him that you were fine, his concerned expression never faded from his face. When he attempted to lift your arm to inspect the side of your torso, you finally took a stand and backed away from him. “I’m really alright, Luc.” You laughed softly, playfully nudging him away when he focussed his attention on your body again.
“Let me take a look.” He insisted, moving closer to grasp your body, but you skillfully sidestepped. A frown surfaced for a fraction of a second, but the radiant smile illuminating your face swiftly dispelled any lingering doubts. Seizing a pillow from your marital bed, you launched yourself at him, transforming him into the hapless victim of your playful assault. With a huffed chuckle, he willingly succumbed, allowing himself to be pinned beneath the pillow's weight, delighting in the way you indulged in this whimsical act with the fluffy object.
The servants needed to be away and you needed to be called for kitchen duty more often…