The dungeon was cold, dank and dark. And frankly, I was sick to death of it.

Right now, the Lord keeping me in his hold, Elijah Frost, was intent on humping me against the wall. His pale body sweating as he pumped upward into me. His narrow hips thrusting wildly in desperation and scraping my rear against jagged stone. While he gripped my legs alongside his hips so tightly, I was sure I'd have bruises. Pulling them toward him as he pushed in and up. Touching deep in my center.

My hands were shackled to the wall, as he'd ordered. Tight enough I couldn't reach him as they were splayed far apart and above my head.

I was smudged with mud and stickier things from the time he'd kept me down here.

It'd taken four of his most trusted knights to bring me down here. Human ones who could resist my allure.

To an extent.

By the time we'd arrived, they'd been begging him for a chance to have at me. Clawing desperately at my clothes in an effort to get ahold of me. Ripping my riding habit loose and shredding the long tunic I'd worn beneath it.

I'd long ago learned not to wear fancy, flimsy undergarments. They were bound to get torn.

Because of what I am.

Thankfully, Frost was a greedy man. So, it was only he that had been rushing down here to slip into me the last few days.

The chains rattled with each movement. Dropping my weight on my wrists.

He grunted. "Ugh. Ugh. Ugh."

The sounds in rhythm to his relentless pounding.

My back, beneath the torn tunic skid up and down the wall with each movement.

My ankles were chained too but with enough length he could lift the back of my thighs for leveraging in.

His legs were positioned with his knees against the wall beneath me. Pinning me between his body and the cold stone.

He was a shorter man. But built well enough, with a swath of dark hair, that he could certainly find a woman that wanted him.

I didn't.

Though I didn't hate him for what he was doing.

He's just another monster.

Monsters had an impossible time resisting me.

And Elijah Frost was a monster. His pointed ears gave him away as much as his pale skin and eyes so light they were nearly silver. He was leaned forward enough he could look down between us to watch himself poking into me, then slipping out. Then stretching me again.

I stared boredly at a spot on the wall. Waiting for him to spend. I'd agreed I wouldn't fight him, as long as he withdrew before attaining his climax.

He obediently did. Slipping out and slapping his member against my lower belly as the white fluid spurted up against my skin.

"Ohhh." He shuddered.

"Finished?" I queried.

"How can you be so cold?" He said disdainfully.

"Was I to moan and faint in pleasure?" I queried sardonically. Adding bitterly. "I'm shackled, Frost."

"Were I to give you more freedom, chain you to my bed up in my chamber perhaps, would you be more compliant then?"

"More?" I asked incredulously. "I didn't fight you. How could I possibly be more so?"

He looked taken aback. "You could at least, feign some pleasure."

He stepped away to gather his pants from the nearby table. Stepping back into them before pulling a long tunic down over his chest.

"Why? To assist you in getting yours?" I said in annoyance. "You know well the act wasn't one I wanted."

"You consented!"

"As long as you withdrew."

"I did!" He proclaimed defensively.

"It doesn't mean I wanted you."

He snorted. "You're the most unpleasant woman in all of Ferus."

"Yet you keep wandering down here to jab at me."

"Mmm." His gaze roved over the long length of my legs, examining their fine shape. "I must admit you feel far finer than any creature I've stuck it to, afore. Like your channel is made of tightly woven velvet. Designed to fit me."

"I've heard that many times afore." I rolled my eyes.

He walked back to grab my throat. Leaning forward until he could put his face in mine warningly.

Trying to intimidate me.

Or perhaps just to get a reaction.

One he certainly wasn't going to get from me.