Inheritance Cycle Like Father, Like Son

A/N: I do not own any of the inheritance cycle, including it's characters, plot, etc.

This story is graphic, please do not read this if that is something you do not wish to read about.

This is a one-shot. If someone is willing to take the time to figure out a plot for this and wants to continue it as a full length story, go ahead.

I'd also like to thank my boyfriend, who is my inspiration and editor.. Except he couldn't edit the beginning because he didn't want me to ruin the 3rd book for him.

Like Father, Like Son

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The light was slowly fading beyond my prisons walls. I leaned on the window ledge, pondering Eragon's words. If I could only change. Change into what? A madman. A monster. A hero? HA!

Thorn touched my thoughts- he was hunting. At least one of us could get away, outside the gray fortress. He was sending me visions of stupid deer and trying to keep my mind occupied so that I would forget the searing pain of Galbatorix ripping through my thoughts.

Suddenly I felt cool metal against my throat, the jeweled hilt of a dagger and a slender hand with dirty nails obstructed my vision to my left. I felt the weight around my hips drop and then I heard Zaroc clatter to the ground. I stiffened and try to probe the mind of my attacker.

I could smell the faint aroma of mint leaves, and hot breath on my neck. For some reason I could feel myself getting aroused as I realized a woman had me against her blade.

"What do you think you are doing, Leandra?" I asked coolly. Her memories of sparring filled my head, her anger towards me radiated off of her. I remembered the anger in her face when I pressed my sword against her neck the night it was decided that I would be the one who received the egg. I remembered the bouts of laughter from the crowd around us when she tried to attack me from behind and I kicked her in the ass and she landed on her face. The bouts of laughter we drew from the crowd. Her long dark hair covering her shamed face, she spit at my feet and stalked away.

"I could kill you," she hissed into my ear. I felt her put a little more pressure on my neck.

"Galbatorix would kill you," I reminded her flatly. I turned slightly and grasped her long braid and yanked down.

She shrieked and fell, I kicked up Zarok, forced it down onto her neck. She glared up at me, her face flushed red. The white horizontal lines of the faint scars that marred her features shown in contrast.

I moved Zarok and slit the shoulder of her dress, it fell a little and exposed more of the skin around her throat.

"You!" she shrieked her hand flew up and held the piece of fabric in place. "I will kill you! I will tear you limb from limb, and then the Dragon will be mine, and Galbatorix-"

I moved Zaroc to the other shoulder, and cut off the other side of her dress. She started to get up and make her way to the door, but I was too quick. I grabbed one of her arms with my free hand and used Zaroc to rip the rest of the dress off of her.

She yanked herself out of my grip and fell onto my bed. She scrambled to cover herself, her face glowing like Zaroc. "You're a monster," she said. Her voice trembled a little more so out of rage than fear. I could feel myself growing stiffer.

"You came here to kill me," I smiled grimly and she shrank back as I kneeled in front of her. "And you're calling me a monster," I could see the bare skin on her shoulder, her naked back as she turned away from me. Cuts and bruises from fighting darkened her other wise pale skin. I almost had her pinned there- I could feel her shuddering.

She would have been beautiful if it weren't for the scars marring her face, the sickly white skin sliced across her face. I took my thumb and traced one line, pulling her face closer to mine and kissed her roughly.

She pulled away, pushing me away from her with both hands. I laughed loudly, and grabbed her hands away from my chest and pinned her to the bed. I pressed my lips so hard against her- I thought she might break. She didn't respond to my advances. I had to switch positions slightly, taking both her wrists into one of my hands, and using the other, spread her legs so I could maneuver between them.

She was breathing heavily, I could sense she was concentrating on being somewhere else, her face heated beneath my fingers and I traced the scars with my fingertips. I kissed her again, gently this time. I could tell she would bruise around her lips. She closed her eyes and her mind was trying to recall the letters her father had taught her when she was younger.

I bit her soft upper lip and she cried out, her mouth opening enough so I could slip my tongue in it. I felt her tense, and then I felt her teeth breaking the skin on my tongue.

I tasted my own blood and in a rage a flipped her over, the blanket falling free of her body, and I slapped her right on the rear. I pulled her over my lap, and I could feel my hardness pressing into her belly and I slapped her again. I could feel her bottom heating my hand as I slapped her over and over until my own hand stung.

She was crying now, and I slipped my hand down to her little secret area and felt it slick with pleasure. I rubbed her there for a moment or two until her cries were only soft whimpers. I admired her butt, flaming red like her face. My handprint etched in the supple white skin.

She was very still now, and I took off my tunic tossing it across the room. I flipped her onto her back and pulled her up to me. I kissed her again, and she stiffened. I forced one of her hands to my breaches and rubbed my groin against her.

This time she inhaled sharply and I kissed her again, gnawing on her upper lip until she let me in. Her mouth was warm and wet, and I sucked on it savoring the feeling. She didn't reciprocate; no matter if I were rough or gentle, she wouldn't give into me.

My hands wandered her body freely. I felt her breasts and teased her nipples under my callused palms. I felt the curve of her waist, and between her legs, tugging a little on the hair that grew there.

I got up to quickly shed my breaches, my intentions becoming clear.

Her eyes were closed tightly and she tensed, as I eased myself back onto the bed. I noticed that she had closed her legs was now trying to cover herself with her hands. I let out a cruel laugh and began prying her legs apart, which was admittedly a little harder then I anticipated.

Her eyes leaked tears and she shook her head, "Don't," she whispered, her voice cracked a little. Her arms were folded across her chest as if to shield herself from harm. Her eyes were shut so tightly her forehead crinkled in concentration.

"Don't what, Leandra?" I asked, and shoved two fingers inside her. Cruelly I worked them back and forth until her face skewed in pain.

"STOP!" she screamed, and I did, a choked sob escaping her throat. She sat up and tried to push herself away again, the tears streaming down her face glistening in the soft light.

My arm encircled her waist, and I pulled her onto me. I could feel my hardness rub against her, and we both breathed sharply at the contact. I did it again purposefully, and she pressed herself even closer to me, trying to move away from it. I could feel her hard little nipples pressing into my chest. Her hair covered my face, its fragrance filling my nostrils. I stroked her back, and for the first time she relaxed against me.

In an instant I was inside of her, I grabbed a hold onto her waist with both hands and lanced her on my cock. She recoiled and fell back onto the bed, but I held on and pushed in and out of her until I found a proper rhythm. Eventually I slowed down a little, her vagina was so small, and she was still struggling to get away from me.

She was crying again, but she felt so sweet around me. I didn't care if she was whore or virgin. I pulled out and flipped her on her belly. I could still see my handprints on her rear. I felt between her legs and found her entrance, and drove into her again. She buried her face into the pillows and cried.

I had one hand on her hip, and with the other I found the little nub between her legs and rubbed it. I moved slowly, both with my hand and my cock. After a while she stopped crying, spreading her legs a little further apart and began dipping down into my hand.

I smirked. I moved a little faster, trying not to burst as I felt her squeeze around me. Slowly she began to rock against me, I could here the slap of our bodies pounding together as she moved faster and faster. She started moaning, and gasping for breath. It was the most beautiful sound.

I was in rapture, and I couldn't hold on any longer. I thrust into her and in a few shuddering spasms, I felt my energy drain from me. I sucked my fingers, her scent lingered, musky and intoxicating.

I rolled her onto her back, she gazed up at me wide eyed- half mortified, and half pleasured I suspected. I used on of the blankets to sop up most of my semen from between her legs.

I leaned in and kissed her again, and I think the shock made her moan a little into my mouth. I found her sweet spot and rubbed her again, it was swollen and sticky under my thumb. She moaned a little louder and I pulled my lips away from hers.

Slowly, and sexily I thought, I trailed my kisses down her body until I found that wonderful honey pot. I began to lick it, flicking my tongue into her sensitive area. Her whole body arched towards me, I looked up and her brow was furrowed in a beautiful mask of confusion. I pressed my tongue deeper, and slipped it inside, licking as far as I could. I used my finger and rubbed her nub gently.

I could see her fists clenching the blankets on either side of her. I buried my nose into her and nibbled her outer lips. She was moaning louder and louder, I could tell that she was close to losing control.

I pulled my head out and took a deep breath of clean air, wiping my face on the bed.

"No," she moaned desperately, looking up at me worriedly. One of her own hands moved to finish what I started.

I swatted it away, chuckling. "Beg," I said.

"What?" she asked hazily, her breath coming in heavy gasps.

"Beg for me to finish you off," I clarified.

She shook her head, biting her lip as though her voice would betray her thoughts.

"Fine." I got off the bed, and I heard her move to touch herself again while my back was turned. I grabbed my belt by the window and tied her hands above her head. I smirked, and ran a hand up her bare thigh.

She squirmed, her eyes pleading with me to touch her. I saw her nipples perk in the cold air.

"Beg me," I said. "Tell me you want me," my hands toyed with her nipples as I watched her eye's prickle with tears again.

"Please," she whispered finally. "Please touch me, please Murtagh!"

"More," I said, and rubbed her a little between her legs, before moving my hand to stroke the inside of her leg.

"I wa-ant you Murtagh," she gasped, as I bent down to suck on one of her nipples. "Oh please Murtagh!"

My heart thrummed each time she said my name and I sucked harder. She was becoming more desperate, her legs rubbed together as if trying to ignite the embers I started between her legs. I forced them apart again, stroking her a little and watching her move closer in hopes that I would continue, before pulling away.

She hiccuped as the tears of longing glistened on her cheeks. "What new hell is this?" she asked. "That I desire my enemy, that my whole body quakes at his touch, and yet in my heart I hate him."

I teased her again, and she twisted in her binds. I could feel myself growing stiffer again. I wanted to take her, but this time I wanted her to want me too.

Again I moved between her legs, I pushed the head of my cock and rubbed it gently around her opening. She moaned and her legs wrapped around my waist.

"Please," she said in a throaty whisper. Her lips pressed against my ear, she moved them to the side of my face and kissed me everywhere she could reach.

I reached up and undid the belt and released her body. She impaled herself on me. I could feel her body slick with sweat moving up and down in a frenzy. One of her hands fingered the ruby red scar on my side, Morzan's gift I called it. The other found it's way into my hair and pulled my face down to hers.

She kissed me, and for a moment I felt near happiness. She nipped at my lip and I opened my mouth to her, our tongues fought for control. Her little waist was moving back and forth now, and her breathing was ragged as she pulled her mouth away. I let my hands move down to her waist as I aided her in her efforts.

I didn't think that I could cum again, but I could tell that she wasn't going to last much longer. She clung to me, her head pulled back and she released the most animalistic moans. Sweat was dripping between both our bodies, and I rolled her onto her back, and I moved inside her as fast and as hard as I could.

"Oh Shur'tugal," she moaned as her body convulsed beneath me. I could feel her pleasure pulsing against me. I came to a halt and pulled out of her. She groaned and pulled me down to her.

I kissed her bare shoulders, yellow bruises from my torment just beginning to show beneath her skin. I felt immensely satisfied that I had conquered her so completely. I wrapped her up in the blanket and pulled her into my arms. She looked up at me in alarm and I grinned down at her. I got to my feet and carried her to my door and dropped her into the hallway.

"Don't try to kill me again," I warned her, and I could see the hatred burning in her eyes. "Next time I won't let you off so easy."

I shut and locked the door. Her ripped dress in the middle of my floor, I picked it up and smelt it. Mint leaves. I stored it in my trunk, and blew out the remaining candles and lay naked on my bed. Tomorrow I would need new sheets.

END

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A/N: I hope you enjoyed this, please don't flame if this isn't the kind of story you were looking for.

But feel free to flame if you thought my writing was bad. Heck, flame all you want. It's not like this was an original idea.. or you know, I was paid for it.

Also, for those of you who enjoyed it, please leave good comments.

Thanks for watching sports fans!


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