Chapter Text
“Come over here, Little Rabbit. You’ve earned some pats.”
For a long moment she didn’t react. She’d crumpled over onto her side when he pulled back, and now she lay there, curled up and shivering. She was in so much pain. The aftershocks of her final orgasm kept sending her abused cunt into weak contractions, pushing his seed out in a steady trickle. And she was lost, her mind dissolved in the deep currents. It took her a while to make sense of his words.
When she finally did, her body started moving somehow. Pulled by invisible strings, she dragged herself towards him, still wanting to please. Still needy, and desperate for affection.
And yet even as she crawled to him, in some dark corner of her mind she thought, He doesn’t care.
Sovereign Greece didn’t care about her. He didn’t even know her. He’d made it amply clear that he might just as well eat her as fuck her. So maybe she was a great fuck, and maybe he’d decide she’d make a nice post-coital snack as well. She was too exhausted to feel afraid, but in the end she was just meat to him, and she couldn’t let herself forget that.
As he watched Yangzai limply dragging herself across the bed, Greece decided that she’d probably had enough for now. Getting fucked twice so brutally might have been a damn death sentence for anyone that wasn’t as tough as her. If they ever got to play again, maybe they’d make it to three … but not today. Even though Greece thought that if he really wanted, he could probably go again.
This time when she reached him, she didn’t immediately cuddle up to him. She collapsed next to him, sweating and trembling. Like before, he ran his now-human fingers through her hair affectionately, brushing strands off her forehead. She whimpered at his touch, tilting her head into it just the slightest bit. He wondered if he should conjure up some, like, band-aids or something, for her shoulder…
For what seemed like a very long time she simply lay there, eyes closed, breathing. The air felt like sand in her throat; she’d screamed herself sore. And she felt parched. She’d been crying and sweating and bleeding — and probably drooling a fair bit, too, while she was at it.
Struggling to push herself up until she was sitting with her legs folded sideways, she opened her hand and pictured a bottle of water, trying to will it into existence. Usually something this simple would be effortless, but ... nothing happened.
So. Either she was simply too worn out to conjure anything into existence, or she’d been cut off somehow. Her eyes stung. She licked her lips, swallowed. In a small, hoarse whisper, without looking at him, she asked, “Can I have some water, please?”
Greece had been about to ask what she was trying to pull, and now he blinked. “Your brain must be pretty fuck-addled if you can’t even get it to imagine up some water in a place where you can imagine literally anything into existence,” he chuckled.
He manifested a bottle of water and uncapped it. Though he handed it to her, he didn’t completely let go of it, guiding slightly — her hands were shaking so much it seemed she’d be like to drop it otherwise.
“Take all the time you need, Little Rabbit,” he said, his shredded voice as soft as it would go. “You earned it.”
It was hard not to look at him as he helped her with the bottle. Her eyes kept darting fitfully over his face and then away. She hated having to rely on him for something as simple as this. She was grateful for his help. She wanted to punch his fucking teeth out, make him stop smiling. She wanted him to hold her and tell her how good she’d been for him.
Fresh tears streamed from her eyes as she sipped her water, and Greece idly mused to himself about how it made her seem like she was leaking. Shame must be catching up now that the high of arousal had worn off, and she was realising that she’d fucked a werewolf. Twice. And he’d made her come four times.
Probably not how she’d expected the night to end with a man she’d stabbed.
He couldn’t know how there was a tempest waiting for her on the surface, and now she was torn. Torn between the impulse to shy away from his touch and the aching need to lean into it. Torn between wanting to stay in the depths of submission and wanting to be gone from here and never see him again. She was humiliated. She was undone. Unmade. Everything she was, everything that was important to her called into question by his conquest of her.
And now as she looked upon his smiling human face she couldn’t help but wonder: Did this— this man-wolf even know what he had done to her? Did he have any idea what she had given him? What she had betrayed?
Did it even matter if he did?
For the first time since she came to this place she felt the seductive pull of dissociation, of taking a mental step back and stop feeling. But something kept her back, kept her present. She decided it didn’t matter if he understood what he’d done — he probably wouldn’t care anyway. The wolf only cared about his conquest, her defeat. His superiority, her submission.
Well, then. If submission was what he wanted from her, she would give him his fill and more. She would prove that she could take anything he’d throw at her. This was her last remaining bit of pride: her resilience, her stubbornness, her capacity to endure. She collapsed and fell apart, but she always soon recovered, ready for another round. And if he thought she would tap out, dissociate and leave her body before he was done with it — if he thought she wouldn’t keep enduring until she was unconscious or dead, he was wrong.
She belonged down here. And so, instead of rising to the surface, she let herself sink further into the depths.
...open your mouth like a good little slut... clean up the mess you made...
Oblivious to her inner turmoil, Greece continued brushing his fingers through her hair gently. He was feeling pretty damn comfortable himself, and could be pretty affectionate when his mood was high. He’d been able to indulge the wolf all night; to hunt, to catch, to conquer. He’d tasted blood and sex, he’d made a woman scream in fear and in ecstasy.
It was a pretty damn successful night, and he would have been content to leave it as such. He was surprised when this time, it was the girl who escalated.
Eyes downcast, shoulders meekly hunched, she pulled her legs underneath her to kneel before him. “Would you like me to clean you up, Sovereign?”
He blinked, momentarily dumbfounded. Holy Hell — he’d really broken his little toy. Acting all subservient to him like this, after everything he’d done to her. Like she actually belonged to him.
That probably shouldn’t have made him a little bit hard … but it did.
A victorious grin split his face, and Greece reached over to take her chin in his fingers. “Look at me, Little Rabbit. I wanna see your face,” he said, tilting her head to face him and the triumphant gleam in his yellow eyes. “Now … ask me again.”
Colour rose in her cheeks, her lips trembled. She felt heavy, so heavy, sinking like a stone. Chin cupped in his hand, gaze pinned by his, she was his little rabbit again. Terrified, euphoric. “M-may I clean you up?” she said, her voice even smaller than it had been before. “Sovereign.”
How sweet it tasted to be deferred to like this. Someone who had been all aggressive and defiant now utterly supplicant to him, wanting to please him — because of how hard he had fucked her. It made him feel like a king.
His grin was smug as he traced her bottom lip with his thumb and answered, “You may. ”
Instead of leaning back like last time, Greece looked around. Briefly abandoning the girl on the mattress, he stood and stretched his legs and hips a moment. She followed him with her eyes as he rose. In the moments he was standing over her he seemed impossibly large, bigger even than he’d been in his wolf form. But maybe it was just her that was smaller now.
“Let’s go someplace a little less blood-stained, yeah?” Greece said, stepping over to the couch. The wolf had been too big for it, but he wasn’t planning on shifting now. She’d had the wolf twice, so he would mercifully let her please the man this time.
He sat down heavily, legs spread wide and cock already semi-hard again. As a final thought, he took a pillow from the couch and tossed it to the floor between his feet. For her knees. From here, they wouldn’t be on even ground; she’d be exactly where he’d told her she belonged. Underneath him.
Lounging back lazily, he said, “Hop to it, Little Rabbit!”
At his command, she moved towards him. She didn’t bother getting up. Greece smiled benevolently down at her. She looked so pretty, crawling across the floor to service him, covered in the blood and bruises he’d left on her willing skin.
There was a warm curl of gratitude in her chest as she knelt on the pillow at his feet, and she didn’t refuse it. She had left her inner turmoil behind for now. Down here in the embrace of the abyss, it was alright to feel thankful for whatever mercy or kindness he might bestow on her.
Glancing up at him, she sighed out a pent breath, and put her hands on his legs. It occurred to her that she hadn’t actually touched him much while he was human until then — she’d held his cock last time, braced herself against his abs, that was all. Now she slid her palms up his muscular thighs, hoping this small indulgence would be alright by him.
When she reached his cock and took it in her hands, she once more looked up at his face. She kept her eyes on him as she leaned in and licked slowly up his shaft, watching for his reactions. Last time she had been so focused on actually cleaning him she hadn’t thought to mind her technique, at least to begin with. She wanted to do better this time.
Greece’s eyes were similarly locked on hers, watching the lewd display as his cock hardened at her attention. Not as quickly as the first two times with his energy depleted, but thick and long all the same. He relaxed instinctively when her lips were on him, back sinking into the couch, pelvis tilted up.
“Very good,” he murmured, and brushed his fingers through her hair. “You look so cute down there. Almost wish my teeth marks would stay on your skin when we’re done, so everyone can see how I’ve claimed you…”
But of course the marks wouldn’t stay, and he hadn’t really claimed her: she belonged to Puck. Still — here and now, she was all his, and would be until he was through with her.
Her cheeks heated and she gave a small whimper in response to his words. She closed her eyes as she wrapped her lips around his cock, focusing on the way he was touching her; almost tenderly. The same way he had while he was letting her rest. She was still exhausted and her body complained of aches and pains all over, but his praise and his touch and the way his cock was thickening as she took him in deeper and deeper spurred her on.
Gods, she wanted to be good for him; a good little rabbit. His good little rabbit. She wanted please him.
She angled him towards her and arched her neck to swallow him as deep as she could. When allowed to do it at her own pace, she could manage almost without gagging. Besides, her body was too fatigued to fight. Pulling back to gasp for breath, she looked up at him again, a string of thick saliva clinging between her lips and the crown of his cock for a moment before she applied her mouth to him anew.
Greece couldn’t help the triumphant smirk that curved his lips. Keeping one rough hand on her head as she licked and sucked his steely length, he didn’t exert any force with it — he didn’t need to. All he did was watch, feeling the orgasm slowly but easily beginning to coil inside him.
“Damn but you’ve been well trained,” he groaned. Last time, she’d mostly been focusing on ‘cleaning’ as she’d been bade, and that had still been amazing, but now she was putting in a concentrated effort to please him. She clearly knew what she was doing, and he was delighted to be the beneficiary of such skill as she swallowed him down and pulled back out. “If I could keep you tied to my bed to have whenever I wanted, I think I’d never leave the house.”
How sweet she would look with her wrists tied above her head, moaning and squirming as he took his fill of her again and again… Greece hissed in pleasure at the mental picture.
She flushed, heat surging over her skin, her aching cunt clenching down on nothing at his words and the images they conjured up. The look on his face didn’t help; that smug, victorious smirk shot straight through her, melted her bones into jelly.
There was something deliciously genuine about the way she squirmed and moaned. The girl wasn’t JUST doing this to make him happy — she was enjoying herself. Despite everything he’d put her through, she seemed to want more of him. This may actually turn out to be the first time a girl had a bigger appetite than he did.
“Mnhh, that’s my girl...”
A muffled whimper around his cock. Then she swallowed him again, closing her eyes. Braced against his thigh with one hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, she took him in long, slow strokes. She had a task, a purpose; she couldn’t afford to be distracted by the insatiable monster inside her. And … her strength was beginning to flag.
Being willing wasn’t necessarily the same as being able. She was sagging in exhaustion, half collapsed into his lap. Greece thought if he did try to fuck her one more time, she might just pass out. And that wasn’t fun for anyone.
“Don’t fall asleep on me, sweetheart,” he laughed. “Come on, sit up. I’ve been picturing your pretty little mouth filled up with my cum since the moment I saw you. Don’t you dare let me down, Little Rabbit.”
For emphasis, he took her braid and and tugged it upward. If she didn’t want her hair pulled, she better find the strength to sit up. It may have seemed an impatient gesture on his part, but her expert tongue had him reeling and he knew he was close. Greece moaned again, a broken rumble from his broken throat, his fist still tight around her hair as he edged closer to climax.
“Fuck… C’mon— ”
His words, the tightening of his hand on her hair… It made her weak, made her burn, made her yearn for more even as her body weakened. She’d been here before, pushed past the point where she could barely control her own limbs anymore for exhaustion and overstimulation — but she had never pushed herself past that point. And she’d never been expected to actually do anything while so thoroughly wiped out.
The weight of his hand on her head was comforting, but he wasn’t helping her along. The idea that she might not be able to finish, that she might let him down — it didn’t bear thinking. Every time she pulled out she couldn’t quite stifle some little noise of exertion, and she glanced up at him, pleading: Use me. Fill me up. Please!
She tried for him. She tried her very best to be his good little rabbit, to keep pleasing him. Bobbing her head to swallow his length over and over, cheeks dimpling as she sucked. If she could only go just a little bit faster, she was sure this would be over soon. But— She just. Couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t obey.
She whimpered pitifully around his cock, eyes falling closed as she sagged against him, faltering. It made her scalp smart from the hold on her hair, and that made her give another weak moan, squeezing her thighs together even now. Fuck, but she was a hopeless little slut, she mused hazily. She really was made for this.
Greece gave a frustrated groan. He was far too close when she slowed down, when her strength waned. Far too close to stop, to let her stop. His ears grew pointed and his hair thickened, the animal inside him attempting to force itself out in response to his frustration. He clicked his tongue. What to do? He needed more and he needed it bad; his cock was so stiff it was painful, but her slow pace wasn’t going to be enough to bring him over, not when he’d already come twice.
Fuck it. He was just going to have to do this himself.
With his grip on her hair, he pulled the girl off of him with an irritated growl. He considered using his own hand and jacking off on her face. But, no, that would be letting her off too easy. She’d asked for this, and she was damn well going to finish what she started. He needed to be inside her, feel her tongue and lips against him. So he reached down to grab her under her arms, pulling her entire body up onto the couch beside him. From here, his fingers — partially claws by now — dug violently into her dark hair, and he shoved her face down into his lap.
“Keep going,” he commanded in a menacing voice, laced with threat through his pointed teeth. He could have done this with her still on the floor, but was mildly concerned his strength and her lack thereof might snap her little neck. With the bulk of her weight on the couch beside him, he manipulated her head like a puppet, thrusting her up and down on his dick at the pace he wanted. “Gotta do everything myself around here...”
The ease with which he manhandled her onto the couch sent a shiver coursing through her, the threat in his voice yet another. Somehow she got her arms underneath her to push herself up a little, to give him a better angle. Otherwise, it was all she could do to try to breathe now and then, in the brief moments between having her throat filled with his cock.
There was no point even trying to slow him down — nor did she want to. After all … she loved being used like this.
He thrust his hips upward as he forced her head down with a tight grip on her hair, fiercely and repeatedly. He was masturbating in her mouth, hauling her up and down his cock as if she were nothing but a toy. And in that moment, that’s all she was. She was so blissed out she barely even felt upset at having failed him in the end. Instead, she revelled in how she’d been reduced to an object. A thing. And so, while he used her mouth she simply drifted. Her aching body was lax, she felt warm and sweaty, and utterly filthy, inside and out. Soft, muffled moans and whimpers mixed with the wet noises of her lips dragging over his cock, now thoroughly coated with the slippery saliva pulled from her throat.
The girl didn’t try to resist him, nor did she do much to help. She merely relaxed and let Greece do as he willed. That was fine — it was probably too much to expect her to do anything but pass out at this point. The small noises she uttered as the wolfman fucked into her face like she was inanimate were help enough from her, reverberating through him, sending a sensual thrill up his spine.
Greece had been aggravatingly close before, and now his pleasure spiked rapidly. It didn’t take long for him to reach his peak. “Don’t swallow it all,” he rasped between broken breaths. “I wanna see your pretty mouth filled with my cum!”
With that final command, he broke. Brutally forcing his hips up and her head down once more, Greece unloaded the first spurt of his hot, thick seed down her throat, groaning loudly as his final orgasm washed through him.
When he pulled out enough for her to breathe, she automatically tried to suck in a bit of air, only to find her mouth filling up with his seed. She choked down a cough, and then another, body convulsing weakly as she struggled to make sure she kept his last load in her mouth.
His body still spasming with the aftershocks of his climax, Greece pulled her head up to face him, wanting to see his handiwork. “Show me. ”
She was still sputtering, fighting a coughing fit. For a few moments she hung limp from his grasp, focusing on getting her breathing under control. Somehow, she managed to pull her legs underneath her so she could sit up a little straighter, though she still relied on his hold on her to remain upright. Then, when she felt like she could open her mouth without accidentally spitting it all up, she did. Some of his spend still trickled down her chin, dripping onto her chest and her lap.
Finally, she opened her eyes to look up at him — somehow still towering over her as he relaxed back against the couch. She caught a glimpse or sharp canines and pointed ears and felt unease stir in her chest, wondering if she had done something else to anger him, but he was already shifting back, and soon he was fully human again.
Finally spent, Greece gave a pleased sigh as his body loosened. He relaxed bonelessly into the couch, the high of ecstasy now a pleasant fog of contentment. He took in the sight of his final load of cum, wet on her tongue and dripping down her lips and chin, thick and heavy. Her face was flushed, her eyes were glassy with tears of exertion, her hair had more or less come undone from its braid by now, and she was trembling. Covered with blood and sweat and semen, with all the marks he’d left on her body, she gazed at him almost pleadingly. As if to say, Did I do good? Have I pleased you?
The girl watched him expectantly, awaiting his next command. He liked her obedience; her desire to satisfy him. The total domination he held over her. Though right now he didn’t find it as erotic as he had a moment ago when he was still mid climax … the image of her mouth full of his load, eyes glassy and body blood-encrusted and bruised from the brutality of his love was still a pretty picture he’d like to take home and keep locked in his memories for dark rooms and lonely nights.
Er. If he would remember any of this. Damn, what a waste. Best sex of his life, and he’d forget it pretty soon.
“Go ahead and swallow,” he finally nodded. He knew she wouldn’t like that, but it wasn’t about the taste; it was about power.
Swallowing was a struggle. Yangzai’s body still quivered with the urge to cough. His cum lay thick and salty on her tongue and she knew the longer it did the more difficult this would get — so she closed her eyes and held her breath and tipped her head back, letting that last mouthful slide down her throat in one quick gulp.
When she’d done so, Greece turned her around and pulled her onto his lap. Now that he was sated, he was toothless; the wolf just a big dog, cradling her affectionately. She lay limp in his arms, occasional tremors running through her aching muscles.
The water bottle from before was still by the bloody mattress. Greece waved his hand experimentally, and by the strange magic of this realm, the bottle came to him. He took a quick drink for himself before handing it to Yangzai to wash down the taste of his semen.
Somehow she managed to lift her hand to accept the bottle from him. It occurred to her, as she put it to her lips, that it had just touched his lips. Not something she normally cared about, but it brought to mind that one rough kiss he’d given her before he transformed the second time.
“Good girl,” he cooed, brushing newly loosed strands of her long hair hair off of her forehead.
She found her eyes drawn to his mouth as he spoke, felt herself blush, and looked down. Lowering the bottle to her lap, she relaxed into him.
He grinned lazily at her. “You did so good for me. A natural. You might just be my new favorite chew toy.”
Part of her wanted to squirm away and flee. Like a wounded animal, she wanted to crawl away and hide until she got her strength back. But she wanted this, too — she wanted to lie there curled up against him, to soak up the warmth of his words and his body and to keep everything else very far away — and she wasn’t strong enough to fight herself as well as him.
If he’d even bother holding on to her, that was.
She allowed herself to accept his embrace, relaxing into his arms as she sipped her water. Greece kept petting her hair, his thoughts drifting. She was still covered in his bitemarks and bruises, but they more as like wouldn’t remain on her body when she left this place. She’d never remember she knew him at all, unless she was brought back here. He wouldn’t remember her once he went back, either. And it was impossible for him to say if they would ever remember together — it was completely up to Puck, and whether or not he’d been entertained. Whether or not he wanted to see them play together again.
Yangzai belonged to Puck, not Greece. And who she was loaned out to next was completely out of the wolfman’s hands.
A raspy, tremulous whisper pulled him from his reverie: “Will I see you again?”
As if reading his thoughts. A soft, scoffing sort of laugh escaped him. Seems their minds were in the same place. But … whether or not she wanted to see him again, Greece decided he didn’t want to know. Because the likely answer was she would not. No matter how many times she had climaxed for him, it had been a violent, terrifying encounter for her. She would probably beg Puck never to put herself and Greece in the same room again.
But only if she was allowed to remember.
Greece sat her up between his legs. Even now, relaxed and sated as he was, he moved her around without effort. His strong, calloused fingers began to carefully undo what was left of her braid, combing through the soft, dark strands with an uncharacteristic gentleness.
A faint whimper escaped her lips. Her eyes fell closed, her shoulders slumped, the final bit of tension draining from her body. She didn’t even have enough energy to berate herself for enjoying this so much. For having enjoyed all of what had happened, even as she’d hated it.
She couldn’t help what she was.
“If God wills it,” he replied at last.
A non-answer. Or a veiled reference to Puck? Or both. Yangzai couldn’t tell, and it didn’t matter, because in the end it would be up to Puck. Somewhere at the back of her mind she’d been wondering at his involvement — or lack thereof — and she’d come to the conclusion that all of this must have been sanctioned by him. She didn’t know how to feel about that, so she filed it away for future consideration. If there would ever be an opportunity for such. She wasn’t even sure what to hope for.
And yet, as Greece tended to her hair, she found herself adrift in clear waters. The madness of the past couple of hours gradually resolved itself before her mind’s eye. She thought of him rolling off of her after the first time and asking, Was it good for you? She thought of him petting her as he let her rest. She thought of him holding still after slamming her down on his cock the second time, then letting her set the pace. She thought of the water he’d offered her just now.
A beast he may be, but he was no monster, after all. He might not care about her, but he had a conscience. And as he’d plunged her into the depths, his conscience had buoyed him, leaving him still floating near the surface.
She realised, then, that it was the abyss to which she had handed herself over, not him. Greece himself was incidental. And now she had proof that she could take it. She truly did belong down here: she wasn’t some shipwrecked damsel, she was the fucking Kraken. If they were brought together again, she would pull him down into the depths with her.
The thought made her smile faintly. Letting out a quiet sigh, she sat up a just a little bit straighter even as she bowed head, enjoying the feel of his rough fingertips running over her scalp and the back of her neck. She reached up to touch her left shoulder where he had bitten her, gingerly pressing her fingertips into her sore flesh. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, and it didn’t hurt as much as it ought to. It was almost as if the wounds were already closing up. That made her smile widen a fraction.
Here, in this realm, there were no limits to what she could endure. If they met again, she would force him to face his own darkness. To become so monstrous that he would be the one to tap out.
She sat quietly for him as he pawed through her hair. She wasn’t shivering; there was no sense she was afraid or uncomfortable. Just bone tired. At least, from the external factors Greece could observe. There was probably a tumult in her head about the whole experience, and he was sure none of it shed him in any kind of favorable light — even as he carefully braided her hair back together, sticky with blood and sweat and probably other fluids.
She was so small, even compared to his human form. And he’d shook her like a ragdoll in his jaws. What did he say? Did he tell her he had fun? Would that make her angry? Would she tell him she did, too? Would it be a lie?
Greece had gotten the experience he’d always secretly desired: a hunt and capture. A true thrill. The wolf was placated. The man was feeling a little bit guilty about it, now that his vices were satisfied.
Once he’d tied off the end of her messy, sticky braid, Greece turned her in his lap to face him. She let him move her without reacting. Taking her chin in his fingers, he gently tilting her head so their eyes could meet, searching her expression. She gazed back calmly.
He didn’t know what to say. So he didn’t say anything. He leaned in and planted a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.
She didn’t flinch. Rather, she reached up to place one hand lightly on his cheek as she shaped her lips to his, kissing him back.
She kissed him back.
Greece felt a sense of relief. If she was willing to do as much, at least she wasn’t disgusted by him. Even if she was angry, there was still an attraction between them that sparked despite their bodily exhaustion.
A shiver coursed through her, and there was a moment where Yangzai felt a dreadful surge of the most dangerous currents. Sovereign, the Little Rabbit in her screamed. She had done good. She had pleased him. She was his little rabbit. He was her Sovereign, Sovereign, Sovereign.
But the undertow couldn’t take her; she had already drowned. And when the kiss ended, she was still utterly calm as she gazed up at him, her small hand still resting on his bearded jaw.
“If I do see you again,” she said softly, “you better be prepared to go all in.” There was a small, strange smile on her lips, an almost manic gleam in her eyes. “Because sooner or later ... I will find a way to kill you.”
In the next moment, she froze.
Not like prey freezes in fright, but like time had stopped for her. And then her eyes fell closed and she slumped, and—
Disappeared. There was a brief glimpse of tendrils of something red enveloping her before Yangzai — his Little Rabbit — was simply gone.
“Terribly sorry to interrupt the tender moment,” Puck drawled.
He was sitting in a leather couch straight across from Greece’s, looking as sleazy as he remembered him. Of course there had been no such couch there before. In fact, Puck was quite clearly sitting in a different room entirely. And in the next moment … so was Greece. It wasn’t that he had been transported there. More like space had folded itself in such a way that the place where Greece had been sitting was now situated in Puck’s personal quarters, and the couch had been replaced by a comfortable armchair.
Puck swirled his drink, giving Greece an amused smirk. “I just thought it best to round things off before Yang-yang started another fire. You seem rather … spent.”
“I coulda gone again,” he huffed, feeling a flame of indignant pride as the insinuation he’d be too tired to continue. “I was just afraid if I did, I’d break her bones.”
Puck watched Greece bristle at the perceived slight to his virility with some amusement — such a predictable reaction from this paragon of masculine might. “I’m sure you could have,” he offered graciously.
So — time for the post match interview, it seemed. Greece settled back, crossing his arms. At this point he sort of just wanted to go home and shower, but he’d come here to entertain, and entertain he must. He’d already received his payment.
“Alright then,” he said. He didn’t mind being nude, but it felt out of place in this environment, so while he spoke, Greece willed his clothes back on — the jeans, the sandals, the ‘Dig Bick’ tank top. He kept the version with the knife hole and the blood stain. Having successfully summoned his clothes, he went ahead and manifested a cold beer; something he enjoyed after a good match or great sex. This had been both. He took a swig from his bottle and gave Puck a wry grin. “Enjoy the show?”
“Oh, very much so. It was most … edifying,” Puck purred.
He proceeded to ask Greece about his experience, and they chatted for a time. For all jovial manners, Puck was hard to read. He did seem very pleased with the whole affair, but Greece couldn’t get over the feeling that there was something calculating in those twinkling glances and easy smiles.
The conversation seemed to be winding down when Puck leaned back in his couch, took a sip from his glass and then set it aside. Propping his elbow on the armrest he ran his fingers thoughtfully over his lips for a moment before he said, “Tell me something. Those things you said, about ruining her for other men. About making her yours. Did you mean them?” His tone was still light and conversational, his posture relaxed, but he made no secret of how carefully he was watching Greece.
Ah, shit. In the heat of the moment, it hadn’t even occurred to Greece that Puck might have opinions on the things he’d said — and afterwards, until just now, he’d pretty much forgotten about it.
Nothing about Puck right now seemed to be particularly aggressive or protective, though. He didn’t seem angry about the wolf’s claim to his property. He wasn’t challenging, but there was still a threatening air about him. Like if Greece said the wrong thing, this could become a fight. And in this realm, it was not one the wolf was likely to win.
Well. He wasn’t in the habit of lying to gods… May as well be fair. Greece shrugged, and took a drink of his beer.
“Yes and no,” he said easily. “I can be a possessive guy, at times. The things I said in the heat of passion, at the time I absolutely meant them. Afterwards… Well, I wouldn’t say I was lying to anybody. But … a lot about my career and I guess my whole personality is … exaggeration. You get me?”
Ah, yes, of course. Puck almost laughed. A true showman indeed — this guy had media training. Perfectly capable of giving an honest answer that contrived to seem exhaustive and yet said very little, in the end. He permitted himself another amused smirk, crossed his legs.
“Well. The thing about this girl is— Hm. To her, this is not a game. I absolutely understand if the idea of truly conquering her is more than you could stomach. But as for me, well...” Puck paused. He gave Greece another long, measuring look. “The idea intrigues me. Yes. I would very much like to see you try,” he said at last, a wicked gleam in his eyes.
Greece cocked his head, regarding him curiously. “What do you mean, ‘truly conquer’?” Was he inviting Greece to try and take her from him? To actually erase other men from her and replace them with himself? It was an erotic idea, but what exactly would that entail here, in this place that didn’t really exist? “I’ve already done ‘fuck’, I’m not interested in ‘marry’ or ‘kill’.”
Puck gave a delighted chuckle. “Oh, she’s not the marrying type, I don’t think — but for a while there, she really was your ‘Little Rabbit’, and she meant it when she called you ‘Sovereign’. As you may have noticed, she got over it.” He laced his fingers together and continued, “So. What I propose is simply for you to keep doing your thing, and see if you can make it stick. You would keep your memories of this place between visits. You get to arrive ahead of her and set the scene to your liking — I’ll show you how. That would be the gist of it.”
“What happens if it does ‘stick’?” Greece asked cautiously. He hadn’t planned on this being more than a one-off from the start, but he couldn’t deny the fun he’d had with his Little Rabbit. Still… “If I conquer her. Then what? Do you swap me out for some other ‘Big Bad’ and start all over? Do you stop bringing either of us around?”
Puck’s lips parted on a smile. He could taste the werewolf’s interest on the air, an excited tension tempered by the objections of his rational mind. He gave a languid shrug. “Let’s cross that bridge if and when we get there, hm?”
So he wouldn’t get an answer. Greece took another long drink from his bottle, contemplating. In the end, did it matter at all? Because Yangzai wouldn’t keep her memories. She could go on living her real, normal life in her real, normal world and only be occasionally traumatized. Meanwhile Greece, who would retain his memories in between…
He would have a lot of fun. The dark, primal kind of fun the wolf in him craved. The kind of fun he could never have anywhere but here. Greece tapped his bottle with his finger.
“I can do it,” he said. “I can tame her. I wanna play. ”
Puck’s lips parted in a triumphant grin. “Good man,” he said darkly. “I knew you’d be up for a challenge. And trust me … it is going to be a challenge.”
Having exchanged a few last pleasantries with Sovereign Greece, Puck waved the man off and closed the portal behind him. Immediately, he turned his attention to the girl.
She was folded away in a secret space, cocooned in his will, suspended in dreamless sleep. He touched her with his senses, stroking and soothing her, even though he knew she couldn’t feel a thing right then. She may not be his Yang-yang, but he couldn’t help being a little sentimental.
Puck had come far closer to intervening than he had expected. Yet every time he’d started thinking that maybe they were taking things too far, something held him back. The girl was a violent volcanic eruption of emotions, and while he revelled in all her fear and pain and anger, what made it all truly worth it was the constant undercurrent of lust. She really was an addict, just like him; a creature of need and greed. She would throw herself into the jaws of any beast who promised to slake her thirst for darkness, even for a moment.
He kept her a little while longer before sending her home, fighting himself over the urge to wake her, speak with her. Kiss her. But, no. If this experiment was to work, he needed to take a hands-off approach.
One thing was for certain though: he would not let this man anywhere near his own Yang-yang. In fact, just to be safe, he might need to find out if there was a version of him back home, and have him … neutralised.
Greece was back home, walking into his bedroom as he had been a second ago when he’d been transported to the Establishment.
He took a long moment to re-orient himself. Where he was, if he was alone, what time it was, if he was injured. There was no cut in his shirt, or blood — no physical sign he’d been anywhere but his living room. Sovereign Greece sat down on his bed.
Despite the lack of evidence, that had all been real. He’d been with Yangzai, he’d torn her apart as the big, bad wolf. And by now, she wouldn’t remember he existed.
But he remembered. Every second of it.
He had thought maybe he’d feel a bit guilty, still. He’d stalked her, stolen her, mauled her. She’d bled for him, screamed for him. The wolf had loved it, but Greece was a man, now.
Yet the only thing he felt guilty about was that at the end of the day, he didn’t really feel guilty at all.
Puck had arranged this because he’d known how the two of them would complement each other. He knew how Yangzai was attracted to danger, how fear made her amorous. And how Greece liked to hunt, to chase. Liked to be scary.
He’d liked it when she fought him. He’d liked it when she submitted to him. He’d liked it when she called him Sovereign. He was the Big Bad Wolf, she was his prey, and between them, the sex had been spectacular. Even now, fully satisfied, Greece knew he was looking forward to the next time.
Grinning to himself, he stood and made for the bathroom. No mess remained on his body — all that had happened in the Establishment had stayed there — but it was habit. Afterwards, he’d probably better start to pack for his camping trip into the woods. The full moon was still imminent, and he needed to get away so he didn’t hurt anybody.
He whistled as he turned on the shower and tossed his clothes aside, thinking of her lips against his. Yangzai had kissed him back. And when they pulled apart her hand was still resting on his jaw, and her voice was soft but there was a fire in those dark eyes of hers as she delivered her promise and her threat: Sooner or later, I will find a way to kill you.
And damn it all if that hadn’t ignited something in him. He was a hunter, a fighter — a warrior. For a woman like this to promise to kill him… It had made him want to start all over again. And now he knew he would get the chance.
Greece had no doubt that taming Yangzai would be a difficult task. But he was a man who was always up to a challenge. He’d gotten her to submit to him once, and he could do it again. As many times as it took to make her his.
When he stepped into the shower, he was singing to himself:
“Who’s afraid of the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf, the big bad wolf… ”