Driven by curiosity and new hope, Connor tried his best to awaken and add his own efforts to those of his allies. After all, they worked to save him. How could he simply lie in bed and leave everything to them? He owed it to them and himself to do his own part, to take claim in his own freedom.
And yet, despite everything, he found himself unable to fully rouse. His arms felt as if they were lead, his body may as well have been a plank of wood. And his fingers did not seem to exist, for all that he could feel them laid placidly on the sheets.
It was irritating to be deprived of all ability.
He, who had been as a squirrel and a wolf and a hawk, now unable to do something so simple as move his own fingers...
How vexing.
If he had control of his body, he would have wept in sheer frustration.
Instead, all he could do was lie there, trying to move, trying to take part in his own rescue.
All he could do was try...and dream.
The dreams were not his choice. He would rather spend all his effort in climbing out of this infernal bed he was perpetually trapped in.
Ah, what he would do to smell clean fresh air and the scent of pine again!
But such was beyond him and, fatigued by his efforts, his body often succumbed to the hypnotic world of his dreams.
Hypnotic and...disturbing.
Why he dreamed of such, Connor did not know. He hoped that he was not...that he had not been...
If he could, he would have shuddered. It was apparently not enough that his husband plagued him in waking. To have him follow him in his dreams was a torment that Connor did not think he deserved.
Last night was...was...
"I have need of my wife. And I would have you retire to your rooms."
Connor trembled inside at that voice. It was so similar in tone to that of his mysterious would-be savior, but the intent, the feel of it was completely different.
Cold and selfish. That was the difference.
"You do him no good--"
"--did I ask for your opinion?"
The door opened and closed. Two sets of footsteps walked away.
"You still do not wake, I see. It is no matter. As long as you wake for the birth, I do not mind. I would have a strong Alpha son from you, and I would have you continue to serve me as you do now."
His husband's face came to his view and lips soon joined to his.
"I do believe I like you like this. Pliable. Placid. Beautiful. But," teeth bit into the flesh of his lower lip, "I do miss how feisty you were. There was a delicious quality to the way you would fight against me, and your final submission was always sublime."
His husband was a vile man. And to feel his touch again so as Connor knew would soon happen...
Ah!
Being so unable to do anything, and yet being aware of what was being done to him. It was...it was...
"Still so tight. It is as if you were made for me. Made to take me inside of you. Made to--"
Strangle him. Claw his hands into talons and rip out those mocking gray-blue eyes that took such pleasure in his pain. Push away that heavy body that stole all the breath from his and brought him to unwilling--
"Oh! Sometimes I think I must be in heaven, rewarded for my loyal efforts to the Order. To be given Master Kenway's son as a wife and to have him be so very delectable--"
And Connor must be in this hell that the colonials loved to speak of and fear. To have this man in him, day after day, his stiff manhood thrusting into him and rubbing that spot that Connor hated with all his being...
"Will you give me many children, wife? This child in you will not be the only, no. I desire many from you, all with your remarkable eyes and with your alluring beauty. I desire to see you swell, time and time again, with my seed and know that it is I, not Washington, who has planted himself inside of you."
A hand went to his cock. Another hand pushed his legs further apart.
The next thrust was deep. Stars sparked from behind Connor's eyes.
"So...good. So...tight. So..."
No. Not again. He could not...he would not...
White spilled out of him. For a moment, Connor felt nothing but the rush of blood behind his eyes and heard nothing but the roar in his ears.
It was like his dream. It was like all the dreams that incessantly plagued him and would not let him rest.
Neither rest nor calm nor life would he have if his husband continued to visit him. If his husband continued as he had been doing.
And Connor feared to lose himself. He feared what he might become, trained to feel pleasure at this grotesque mockery of affection, trained to yearn for his husband's touch.
"Oh wife. Your friend and my acquaintance advise me to leave you be. But how can I? You are a siren, beckoning me always, and I cannot resist. I shall never leave you be."
A final kiss to his lips.
As Connor laid there to the sound of his husband dressing, feeling the Alpha's release slowly drip out of him, skin cool from the autumn chill in the air, he came to a decision.
He would wake. He would combine his efforts to those of his allies.
And he would find himself free of the man who would own him so.
Discovering Charles - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Driven by curiosity and new hope, Connor tried his best to awaken and add his own efforts to those of his allies. After all, they worked to save him. How could he simply lie in bed and leave everything to them? He owed it to them and himself to do his own part, to take claim in his own freedom.
And yet, despite everything, he found himself unable to fully rouse. His arms felt as if they were lead, his body may as well have been a plank of wood. And his fingers did not seem to exist, for all that he could feel them laid placidly on the sheets.
It was irritating to be deprived of all ability.
He, who had been as a squirrel and a wolf and a hawk, now unable to do something so simple as move his own fingers...
How vexing.
If he had control of his body, he would have wept in sheer frustration.
Instead, all he could do was lie there, trying to move, trying to take part in his own rescue.
All he could do was try...and dream.
The dreams were not his choice. He would rather spend all his effort in climbing out of this infernal bed he was perpetually trapped in.
Ah, what he would do to smell clean fresh air and the scent of pine again!
But such was beyond him and, fatigued by his efforts, his body often succumbed to the hypnotic world of his dreams.
Hypnotic and...disturbing.
Why he dreamed of such, Connor did not know. He hoped that he was not...that he had not been...
If he could, he would have shuddered. It was apparently not enough that his husband plagued him in waking. To have him follow him in his dreams was a torment that Connor did not think he deserved.
Last night was...was...
"I have need of my wife. And I would have you retire to your rooms."
Connor trembled inside at that voice. It was so similar in tone to that of his mysterious would-be savior, but the intent, the feel of it was completely different.
Cold and selfish. That was the difference.
"You do him no good--"
"--did I ask for your opinion?"
The door opened and closed. Two sets of footsteps walked away.
"You still do not wake, I see. It is no matter. As long as you wake for the birth, I do not mind. I would have a strong Alpha son from you, and I would have you continue to serve me as you do now."
His husband's face came to his view and lips soon joined to his.
"I do believe I like you like this. Pliable. Placid. Beautiful. But," teeth bit into the flesh of his lower lip, "I do miss how feisty you were. There was a delicious quality to the way you would fight against me, and your final submission was always sublime."
His husband was a vile man. And to feel his touch again so as Connor knew would soon happen...
Ah!
Being so unable to do anything, and yet being aware of what was being done to him. It was...it was...
"Still so tight. It is as if you were made for me. Made to take me inside of you. Made to--"
Strangle him. Claw his hands into talons and rip out those mocking gray-blue eyes that took such pleasure in his pain. Push away that heavy body that stole all the breath from his and brought him to unwilling--
"Oh! Sometimes I think I must be in heaven, rewarded for my loyal efforts to the Order. To be given Master Kenway's son as a wife and to have him be so very delectable--"
And Connor must be in this hell that the colonials loved to speak of and fear. To have this man in him, day after day, his stiff manhood thrusting into him and rubbing that spot that Connor hated with all his being...
"Will you give me many children, wife? This child in you will not be the only, no. I desire many from you, all with your remarkable eyes and with your alluring beauty. I desire to see you swell, time and time again, with my seed and know that it is I, not Washington, who has planted himself inside of you."
A hand went to his cock. Another hand pushed his legs further apart.
The next thrust was deep. Stars sparked from behind Connor's eyes.
"So...good. So...tight. So..."
No. Not again. He could not...he would not...
White spilled out of him. For a moment, Connor felt nothing but the rush of blood behind his eyes and heard nothing but the roar in his ears.
It was like his dream. It was like all the dreams that incessantly plagued him and would not let him rest.
Neither rest nor calm nor life would he have if his husband continued to visit him. If his husband continued as he had been doing.
And Connor feared to lose himself. He feared what he might become, trained to feel pleasure at this grotesque mockery of affection, trained to yearn for his husband's touch.
"Oh wife. Your friend and my acquaintance advise me to leave you be. But how can I? You are a siren, beckoning me always, and I cannot resist. I shall never leave you be."
A final kiss to his lips.
As Connor laid there to the sound of his husband dressing, feeling the Alpha's release slowly drip out of him, skin cool from the autumn chill in the air, he came to a decision.
He would wake. He would combine his efforts to those of his allies.
And he would find himself free of the man who would own him so.