She did know the answer. After all she had asked him to do it, had bartered for it, against it. She saw the promise in his eyes, so intense it seemed to pierce through her and fill her with needs she couldn't even name.<br/><br/>Dawn wasn't too proud to shiver, she didn't try to hide that though, to disguise how he effected her, stalking so close, the circling meaning that she turned to keep him in her sight. Her quick breathes meant that her breasts trembled and strained against the gray satin and lace of her bra, her hands clenched, nails biting into her palm as she tried to control the fear that rode her nearly as heavily as desire did. But then wasn't that also part of his due in this? To feed off her fear and desire, to have her emotions and her body, to make her skin glow for him, shine out. How long had it been she wondered, since a full sidhe had laid with him. They were fools, all of them, to turn aside this dark hunter, this aspect of their God that was so compelling, dangerously so.<br/><br/>He moved too fast suddenly, behind her, and her heart stopped at so simple a thing as his warm breath tickling against the sensitive flesh of the nape of her neck. It jolted back into motion, racing then as his hands cupped her breasts and her body responded before her thoughts could, arching into his strong hold eagerly, craving the promise of what would come. A shivering gasp fell from her lips, throat working to contain more sounds that would fall when his deep voice growled into her ear and his nails deftly tormented her bra and skin both with but a taste of what would come.<br/><br/>The King spoke true, for she shivered, as if his very words had summoned it, a quake that worked through her whole body. She gasped for him, crying out softly when he rent the fabric of her bra and the pretty delicate thing fell to ruins around her, sliding down her pale arms and then fluttering to adorn the meadow beneath her feet. A yelp came next, pain so sweet it seemed a pleasure, something she had yearned for, wanting to know a man truly commanded her, didn't think of her title so much as desire; the pull on her hair was just that, making her arch, making her shudder again at that teasing of sharp teeth against her skin, the hot dampness of his tongue caressing her flesh. And that made her whimper, pleading wordlessly for more, that coupled with the confident touches of his hand learning the shapes of her body. This was a man, a King, a<em>male</em>that would take everything she had to give and demand more.<br/><br/>Desire pulsed through her body and she let it, surrendering even as her pale skin began to glow for him, midnight blue eyes hazy and shinning as well when he moved in front of her, lips slightly parted. She wanted what he spoke of, she wanted it now, so badly she felt her knees threaten to go weak just from the visions that danced in her head. Dawn's breath hitched when he tore the last bit of clothing she had, those pretty lace panties slowly falling down one leg till they lay around her left foot and she stumbled into him, leaning heavily in his strong arms.<br/><br/>That haze of anticipation, of need was sliced through though when his nails dug into her skin and she cried out, not a full fledged scream, not yet at least; she was aware though then that he truly meant to hurt her. To use her for his pleasure and not her own. And she would love it, every single moment of it, every pleasure and pain she would savor and offer up as a form of worship to the Goddess. Her throat worked again, tears sparking in her jewel like eyes as she looked at him, the pull on her hair that familiar, welcome pain with the red marks on her back tingling faintly. There would be worse, to come, she knew.<br/><br/>A shudder quaked through, every inch of her hearing that promise on his tongue, that look in his eyes, the gleam of his teeth. He would take her, he would mark her with teeth and claws and every other thing he had. Dawn wet her lips, searching for her voice when she just wanted to sink into the sensations, to revel in what he was doing to her. Gone was the politically minded princess, and though she was still princess,<em>his</em>pretty little princess at this moment, she was lost, aching to please him, for the pleasure and yes, the pain. Still she found words at last, one trembling hand lifting to touch his face softly, her breath hitching and voice hoarse with desire and fear that wedded together.<br/><br/>"I believe you..."