My Blood Mage System

Chapter 54 Thou shall be mine



Chapter 54 Thou shall be mine

Cael's first desire the next morning was to go to the dungeons and see if Ginevra was feeling well. But he steeled himself. He didn't want to come to her empty-handed this time.

A short walk through the city in a morning rewarded him with the items he needed and several suspicious, fearful glances from passersby. Whispers spread from person to person like disease—

same whispers as in Father's army. But back then, they were peppered with plenty of respect, now it was waning.

Cael didn't like this. But the upcoming meeting with Ginevra made him forget about those looks.

There was another guard on duty in that hour—a much less opinionated and curious one. He followed Cael's orders without questioning.

Ginevra was sitting on her pallet again when Cael walked inside her cell. Maybe next time he should bring her a chair. Not that there was much space for one…

"Oh, it's you," Ginevra said instead of greeting. His lips—Cael recalled their taste vividly—curved into a sadistic smirk. "How much do you remember of what happened yesterday? Remember how you tried to fuck me, but couldn't even get it up, before you fell asleep with your face on the ground? I had to kick you to wake you up."

Cael snorted. "I'm glad you feel good enough for snarling, Gin. Actually, I came to bring you this."

He kneeled next to her and arranged items from his hands on the floor. A piece of soap, a small basin, a wooden comb decorated with flower carvings, and a cloth parcel with several sweet buns.

"Don't tell me you still are going with that ridiculous idea of yours. Are you trying to bribe me with comforts?" Ginevra folded her hands on her chest, inadvertently raising her breasts up. Cael swallowed and looked away from them.

Yesterday's memories were a little hazy from the wine fog, but this only enhanced his desire to make new, clearer ones. He never lusted after a woman like this. He never met a woman like Ginevra.

"It's a great plan," Cael argued. "And you said it yourself, yesterday—

you won't change your mind. This means you can just accept those things and enjoy them while bravely resisting my manipulation."

Ginevra frowned. "You are tricking me somehow."

"No. Look. First, eat this," he pressed a bun in Ginevra's hands. "Not a part of prison cuisine, is it?"

She eyed the bun with suspicion, but finally took a bite. After several moments of thoughtful chewing, she wolfed the rest down in two bites and took a second bun.

Cael felt a sweet ache inside of him. A feeling like from looking at a litter of puppies… Adoration? And a twinge of lust from the way Ginevra licked her lips from crumbs.

"Also, I wanted to wash your hair."

Ginevra paused mid-chewing, then finished the last bun and gave Cael a narrow-eyed look. "You think I can't do it myself?"

"No, I just wanted to do it," Cael reached out and pulled on one of Ginevra's dark locks. Dust, grime and blood covered it all over—a sad sight, and a very tangled up one. "But it would be easier with help, anyway."

Ginevra huffed. "Fine." She sat straighter and lifted her head, as if she was preparing to bear a painful torture.

"Let's move to the side first," Cael said, pointing her to the other side of the cell. It had a hole for waste in the corner, but he didn't want to wet Ginevra's bed by accident.

After they settled down, Cael first used a Summon Water spell to wet Ginevra's hair and wash down the worst of the grime. It took a lot of spells. Her thick tresses swallowed water like a sponge. This was the calmest part.

Then Cael soaped the hair and used his hands to spread the foam to the roots. Ginevra endured the process stoically, never twitching when he accidentally pulled on a lock—until Cael began to massage her scalp.

Her body tensed even more, but several seconds later, her shoulders sagged. Her muscles relaxed. Cael smiled. He enjoyed this too—the way she reacted to him, the closeness and warmth of her body, the scent of female sweat under the herbal smell of ointments on her wounds. He enjoyed the obedience with which Ginevra leaned her head back or forward when he pushed it. A wordless understanding where there was so little of it.

Maybe he was even enjoying it too much. A certain part of him, definitely. After yesterday, Cael planned on waiting some time before making any more advances on Ginevra. Now he double-questioned this decision.

'No! Don't hurry too much, you dolt!' he admonished himself. 'She's like a wild animal. I have to tame her first.'

Yes. And then she will be his. Body and soul… His, not anyone else's

—to fight together, not against each other; to protect her. Cael wanted that.

Cael washed the soap off Ginevra's hair, then soaped it again—until the foam grew white and fluffy and all the crusted blood went down the drain. It didn't help with the tangles, though.

But he had a comb and applied it studiously to each and every little knot. It took a long while. By the time Cael finished, his legs had long ago fallen asleep. And other parts of his body were all too awake.

He put the comb away and, with a groan, stood up to his feet. Ginevra looked at him from below. Her clothing was wet from stray droplets and clinging to her body, showing contours of her waist and chest all too well. Her face was just near Cael's groin, too.

He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his skin. Pain helped him to remember his plans.

'Wait for it, wait for it…'

Ginevra's eyes fell on the bulge in Cael's pants. She licked her lips.

Cael swallowed.

"So, Cael. You really want to do nice stuff to me, is that right?" she asked, looking him in the eye. "Then do that thing from yesterday again."


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