Sired Intentions
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- Parts 8
What we have is a dark soul eating type of love. A connection based off sex, lies, and pain. But love never the less. He loves me and I him. Our love is limitless, straight from hell, it even burns and consumes like hell fire. We wear the burns with pride and when I look around I see them jealous of our sinful love. I'm not ashamed of our dangerous love. I know that even in hell we would be united. Because true love lasts forever, especially the twisted kind.
Nimeah was a princess of the coasts of Africa. She lived her life learning the ways of her region. When war comes and decisions are made, she is sent off. After a series of turn in hands Nimeah is relegated to be a mere servant for Sir Cafferzio. Desire is not honorable and virtues are no longer her privilege. In order to ascend she must lower herself, sacrifice her virtues culture and pride.
Prologue
His hand ran underneath my borrowed dress and continued a path up my inner length of my legs. I held onto his shoulder as my knees buckled. This was wrong, so incredibly wrong. His hand clenched and a gasp broke out my lips. That was the last sound they made before his lips captured mine. If people found out I would be disgraced even more than the mere servant girl I already was. The presence of his hand lingered as his fingers travelled into foreign land. This was out of my control, these were my Sire's Intentions.
What happens when the innocent service of being a slave transforms into the work of a sensual slave?
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1723 I sat at my desk with my arms crossed, it was a late night working but I was interrupted by Amalia, she was angry. No doubt about something I did but I wasn't listening to a word she said, I focused on what was almost see-through white nightgown she was wearing. "I hate you" "Really?" I said adjusting myself in my seat before getting up and walking around my desk to her. I leaned against it and grabbed her waist, forcefully pulling her to. Being rough on purpose She let out a little gasp and placed her hands on my biceps to brace herself. While keeping my hands on her waist I slowly started to lift her long gown. "Because I don't think you're angry at me" I slowly moved my leg so that it was now placed in between hers. I heard her breathing become more labored, I pulled closer to me, her heat now flush with my thigh. She let out a little gasp again. "I think you're frustrated" I whispered in her ear, I slowly started to rock her hips back a forth, and she gripped onto my biceps "Let me fix that" ⚠️ THIS STORY IS HISTORICALLY INSPIRED NOT HISTORICALLY ACCURATE ⚠️
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