Page 21 of Semper
"I want you to answer me now," he demanded.
For a second, I was confused, then I remembered the question he had asked. "I was the one who wanted to stop it," I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil in my chest. There was no way I was going to implicate Keres, though I was sure he already knew exactly what had happened. He always seemed to know more than he let on. His next words confirmed it.
"It's nice that you've become close with another Electi," he murmured, his fingers gently massaging the back of my neck where he held me. "But never try to spare them if they've done wrong." His voice lowered, carrying a dark warning beneath the surface.
"Osiris will be handling her tonight."
My mind immediately went to Keres, and the thought of what might be done to her. I didn’t know much about the man who had claimed Keres, but I knew he was close to Alexander. Too close for comfort.
“As for you..." his words trailed off, drawing my attention back to him. His gaze had sharpened, the intensity making my breath catch. The possessive way he held me, sent a ripple of unease and... something else entirely, through me. "I think you need a reminder of who I am, and your place."
“What does that mean?” I forced the question out, my voice softer than I intended, barely more than a whisper.
His eyes locked onto mine. "Do you know what I expect of you,Deliciae?" he asked, his voice smooth, but beneath that surface was the unmistakable authority he always carried.
I didn’t respond. There was no point.
My throat felt tight, and his grip on me, while not forceful, was commanding enough to make me feel completely under his control. His hand, which had been massaging the back of my neck, slowly shifted, grazing down my spine with deliberate precision.
"You’re mine, and I will not tolerate disobedience. Not from you. I’ve given you leeway because I understand this is all new to you. But make no mistake, Lolita, you were chosen by me for a reason." His hand slid lower. "I expect you to follow my lead without question."
I swallowed, trying to keep my emotions from showing, but my heart was racing, and I had no doubt he could feel it.
His lips brushed against my ear as he spoke the next words, sending a shudder through me. "You are here to submit. To obey," he continued, his voice dropping lower, more deliberate. "In return, you will find safety, comfort, and privilege—things others could only hope for." He drew back, watching me closelyas if gauging my reaction. "As my Electi, you represent more than just yourself. You will be my legacy."
Every syllable felt like another link in the chain, binding me tighter to this place, to him.
"So, my job is to be the prop for your ideologies?" The words slipped out, bitter and raw.
"I see what you're trying to do," he murmured lowly, almost amused. He released my ass and touched my face, tracing the outline of my lips with his thumb. "But all you have to do is ask."
I furrowed my brow in confusion. "Ask? Ask what?"
"You'll figure it out. You catch on quickly." His hand fell to my throat, and he pulled me closer. “You have one avocation beyond falling madly in love with me. Are you curious as to what it is?”
I searched his eyes for any hint of what he meant, the voice in my head warning me of the danger lurking beneath his charismatic facade. "I... I don't know."
A sadistic grin stretched across his gorgeous face, his touch burning like fire against my skin as he gripped my hair tighter, pulling me even closer to him. "Your purpose," he intoned, his lips tantalizingly close to mine, "Your sole duty is to fuck me like a desperate whore and beg me to do the same. To obey without question. When I tell you to kneel before me, you drop to the ground without hesitation. When I tell you to spread your legs and open your mouth, you spread your fucking legs and open wide.”
I stiffened, fear churning violently in my stomach. Yet, underneath it all, something else stirred. Something I hated—an unsettling pull toward his twisted desires, a part of me I despised but couldn’t fully deny.
His grip tightened around my throat. I whimpered, my body instinctively tensing as my hand pressed against his chest, hoping for some space—some air to breathe.
"Do you understand?"
I hesitated for a second, my mind screaming at me to resist, to fight back, but my body knew better. I tried to nod, desperate to relieve some of the tension, but he held me in place, waiting.
"Say it," he commanded, his voice soft but ironclad.
"I... I understand. I do," I whispered, barely able to push the words past my lips.
His grip softened just slightly, and his smile was one of quiet victory. "Good," he acknowledged, his voice almost gentle. Still gripping me by the throat, he walked me backward a few paces and then stopped. "Now kneel."
My heart thudded painfully in my chest and my legs trembled as I sank slowly, reluctantly, to the floor.
The weight of his command was heavier than any physical force, pushing me down until my knees pressed against the cold, hard marble. As I knelt, the space around us seemed to shrink, his presence enveloping me like a shadow I couldn’t escape. It was only then, in that agonizing moment of submission, that I realized where he had placed me. Close to the towering statue of the Devil, where the weeping woman knelt.
Still, he held onto me, his gaze traveling over my body I clenched my fists, fighting to maintain my composure.