Work Header


Work Text:

Goosebumps rise over my skin in the biting cold air, my body shivering and my blood racing fast through my veins in an attempt to keep warm as I stand naked in the middle of the room. Why does he leave the fucking shutters open? I think, wondering if he gets off on the idea of someone seeing what we are doing. More likely he just wants me to be as uncomfortable as possible.

I stay silent, hearing only the wind against the window and my quickened breathing, desperately wishing I could discern where Mercer is standing. The makeshift blindfold covering my closed eyes is nothing more than a strip torn from the bed sheet and I could rip it off in moments, but my hands stay clenched at my sides, my chilly fingers working nervously into my palms, knowing that it would be far worse for me to remove it. And being blind is almost better than seeing his satisfaction at my helplessness gleaming in his dark eyes.

'I told you to stop moving,' Mercer says suddenly, the sound of his voice behind me making me jump when I realise he is closer than I thought.

'I'm not moving,' I answer, the cold making my teeth chatter and the words fall from my mouth far sharper than I intend.

I hear the Guildmaster's quiet laugh. 'Is that so?' he says softly, and I jump again when his hand gently brushes my hair away from my back, moving the curls to fall over one shoulder, the tendrils tickling my naked breast as I feel Mercer's warm fingers trace down my cold spine.

A gasp escapes my chilly lips at the sensation and I cannot help shuddering, my determination to stay still failing as the tension in my body heightens abruptly at his touch.

'Wren,' Mercer says warningly, although I hear the amusement in his voice. 'Do I have to tell you again?'

I force my body to stop shivering, knowing that the cold is the least of the pains Mercer could inflict upon me. I wanted him to keep me warm, and I know there is always a price for what I want.

'That's better,' he says. 'Now, I said I might treat you to what you like best, didn't I?' His hand drops lower down my spine, his knuckles grazing the small of my back. 'But do you think you've earned it, little bird?'

I fight against the sharp shiver of unease that cuts through me at his words. I remember when he asked me that before, I think, recalling the night before I left for Windhelm, the night I felt his hand around my throat and the leather against my ass. He asked if I had earned it, and I told him I wanted it. And he whipped me raw.

I keep my mouth tightly closed, my nerves heightening and part of me wanting to pull the blindfold from my eyes, but my hands stay frozen in place and useless at my sides.

'I asked you a question, Wren,' Mercer says, his voice silky and low, immediately putting my nerves on edge twice as keenly.

Not wanting to fall into his trap, I clamp my mouth shut and do not answer, distantly feeling my unease start to contend with the impatient frustration that has simmered inside me over the past week. I've been out here in the damn cold searching for Karliah at his request, I think, unable to decide which has been the greater trial, the bitterly cold and unfriendly streets of Windhelm or the bitterly disappointing lack of progress I have made in hunting down the Dunmer thief. Even though I haven't found her yet, I've earned more than he can give me, just by being here and still trying to do what he asked.

Mercer drags his fingers over my back again, his nails scraping lightly across the goosebumps that have risen over my skin. 'Maybe you've finally learnt the lesson of what your mouth is good for,' he says softly after a few seconds of my silence, before he makes a quiet snort of laughter. 'Or maybe the cold has frozen that pretty little head of yours and you have no idea what I'm even saying.'

Before I can bite back, I feel his fingers leave my spine and both his hands rise to take my shoulders, gripping me hard and directing me down to my knees. Knowing that I am powerless to refuse physically and well aware that it would be foolish to argue with words, I drop down to my knees on the floor, my movements clumsy with the cold and my blindness. But at least he's finished toying with me, I think as I place my hands on my bare thighs and wait, strangely relieved by the knowledge of why he has put me on my knees. I can never figure out how to win when he plays his games, but I know how this part goes well enough.

Long seconds pass in silence and my bare knees start to ache against the cold wooden floorboards, the discomfort gnawing through my skin to my bones as my ears strain to hear the sound of the Guildmaster removing his trousers – and yet I hear nothing but the wind lashing outside and the unsteady sound of my breathing. As time passes and I swallow in nervous anticipation, I start to wonder if Mercer is even still in the room.

'So what is your mouth good for, little bird?' the Guildmaster says softly, his voice coming from somewhere above close in front of me, startling me with his proximity. 'Answer me.'

Not wanting to hear my voice speaking the words that he wants me to say, I hesitate for a moment, once again fighting the desire to rip the blindfold away and use my mouth to tell him never to touch me again. He's right, though, I think, despising myself for it and yet suddenly feeling unable to argue with the truth that I know he is waiting for me to admit. I've tried fighting, I've tried to be strong, I've tried to find Astrid and Karliah and so far I've failed at every turn. This is what I am good for.

I swallow the dryness from my throat again and my lips tingle with the cold as I open my mouth for Mercer, giving him his answer without words.

The Guildmaster laughs a quiet satisfied laugh from above me. 'Good girl,' he murmurs, before I hear him unfasten his trousers at last and twisted relief floods my veins warm with the realisation of what comes next.

One of his hands grasps the back of my head, pulling me forward until I feel his hard cock brush against my lips. I open my mouth wider and let Mercer push himself inside me, hearing his hitched intake of breath above me as his cock fills the warm wetness of my mouth. He grips my head with both hands, his fingers knotting tightly in my hair as he draws me forward, burying himself deeper into my mouth until with a sharp thrust of his hips, I feel his cock press at the back of my throat.

The cold air stiffens my muscles, making it harder for me to relax and take him as deep as he likes, but unsurprisingly Mercer seems to care little for my quiet whine of discomfort, nor does he seem to have any patience to let me get used to him, as the Guildmaster quickly starts to work his cock at the back of my throat as urgently as always. If not more impatiently, I realise, trying to keep up with his pace and relax my neck and jaw to accommodate him. Maybe he's really missed me in the week we've been apart, I think, laughter threatening to rise inside me at the thought, before the Guildmaster jerks my head forward sharply in time with his thrusts and another whine of pain rather than laughter escapes me as he takes his ruthless pleasure of my mouth.

I force myself to ignore the discomfort and use my tongue against the underside of his cock as he moves himself inside me, wanting to bring him to his satisfaction quickly and knowing that the pain is only temporary. He could hurt me worse, I try to remind myself, as I purse my lips and suck down hard on his cock, a flicker of smug satisfaction rising inside me when I hear the Guildmaster make a quiet groan above me with my efforts.

He likes to think I have no power over him, but he's like any other man, I start to think, before the thought slips from my mind and whatever smugness I felt vanishes when Mercer suddenly thrusts deeper and harder down my throat, making me cry out and almost topple over backwards off my knees with the roughness of his movement. My hands fly up to grip at his bare legs in an attempt to keep my body steady as the Guildmaster's fingers dig into my scalp, holding my head in place as he laughs a hitched laugh.

'You fucking slut,' he murmurs, stilling his movement and holding himself buried deep inside my mouth. 'You want it but you can't take it, can you?'

I do not answer, my lips still wrapped around his cock and pain coursing through my neck as I struggle not to gag at the pressure of him against the back of my throat. I will not yield to him, I will not give him the satisfaction of hearing me beg or yield so soon, I think, even as a broken whine forms in my throat with the pain, my body pleading for the Guildmaster to relent.

Mercer holds himself there silently for a few seconds longer, clearly enjoying the sounds of my discomfort, before he steps back abruptly and releases his hold on my hair, his cock sliding wet from my mouth with a loud slick sound that makes my cheeks blush even in the cold air.

'Stand up, little bird,' he commands. 'Find the bed and I'll give you what you want.'

I do not move or respond, trying to catch my breath and swallow the ache in my throat, not remembering what it is that I want. Not to be used like this, I think distantly, my fingers digging into my palms as I suddenly wonder why I am kneeling here blindfolded and naked when I could so easily rectify one of those handicaps. If I take off the blindfold, then I can find my clothes and end this game before it goes any further.

'I said get the fuck up and go to the damn bed,' Mercer snaps in the moment right before my hands rise to my eyes, his impatience cutting his words sharply. 'Touch that blindfold, Wren, and I'll bind your hands behind your back and leave you standing next to the fucking open window.'

Not doubting his threat and suddenly afraid of the danger in his voice, I drop my hands away from my head and force myself to struggle to my feet, the difficulty of my blindness overtaking the chilly discomfort of my body as I rise clumsily to standing again. Instinctively, I open my eyes beneath the blindfold, although I can see nothing of the room and my disorientation hits me hard as I realise I will have to feel my way to the bed. There was a fireplace, a chest of drawers, the bed, I think as I reach out my hands tentatively, although I find I cannot remember how the furniture of the room was arranged, and I turn to the side in confusion, trying to at least remember in which direction I was facing when Mercer blindfolded and stripped me naked.

Eventually, I take a hesitant step forward, my hands held out before me but finding nothing but empty darkness. I take a few more cautious steps, my heart jumping when my hands brush against a solid wooden object, the surface smooth and covered with dust. The drawers, I deduce, trying to remember where the bed can be found from here. I turn to the right and take another step, hoping that I am going in the right direction, not even wanting to find the bed so much as just wanting to find my bearings and not feel so lost in the darkness.

I hear Mercer laugh softly from somewhere off to the right as he evidently watches my performance. 'Helpless little thing, aren't you?' he says. 'Follow my voice, Wren. I'm waiting right by the bed.'

I pause, wondering whether to trust him and turn away from the direction I was heading. No matter how I degrade myself for him, I know that trusting him is the worst decision I could ever make.

I ignore the direction of the Guildmaster's voice and I keep walking forward slowly, certain that I must be nearing the bed now. After another few tentative steps, my outstretched fingers suddenly brush against something solid and warm, which I immediately realise to be Mercer's bare chest. Startled, I pull my hands back, but Mercer grabs my wrists and holds me in place.

'Bad little bird,' he says. 'Do you really think you'll ever be able to find your way on your own, hm?'

Before I can free myself from his hold, his hands drop my wrists to instead grasp at my waist, and Mercer lifts me easily from the ground as I clutch instinctively at his shoulders to keep myself steady. He carries me a few steps and places me back down again, and I have barely a moment to reorientate myself in the darkness before he puts his hands on my shoulders and shoves me backwards hard into empty space.

I yelp in fear as I stumble back and lose my balance under the strength of his push, my calves tripped by something solid behind me as I fall backwards into nothingness - but to my relief, I land a moment later onto a soft bed of furs and blankets, and I realise that I have at last found the bed.

'You fucking-' I start furiously, my heart hammering from the fright as I wriggle backwards in the tangle of covers and try to sit upright, but I feel Mercer climb onto the bed after me and the touch of his hands on my bare legs silences whatever insults I might have snapped at him.

'I thought you'd learnt what your mouth was good for,' Mercer says as he pushes me down flat and pulls my thighs apart, the cold air biting at the warmth between my legs. 'Do I really need to teach you the lesson again, slut?' His fingers dig sharply into the soft flesh of my thighs. 'Answer me. Do you need to be taught again?'

'No,' I answer quickly, suddenly conscious of my vulnerability and the proximity of his hands, remembering how skilfully his fingers work precisely where he now has me most exposed. And I also remember how hard his hands can slap, and which of the two I would rather have him do to me. 'I know the lesson. Please-'

'Please?' the Guildmaster echoes with another snort of laughter as I feel his hands slide up my inner thighs, parting my legs further. 'Begging so soon, are we? You really have missed me, haven't you?'

I bury my hands in the furs either side of my body and keep my mouth closed, knowing that I have not missed him in the slightest and yet feeling an uncontrollable wave of desire rise in my lower stomach as his fingers inch towards my core, my needy body betraying my mind and my longing for his touch overtaking my determination to resist. He knows it too, he always knows it.

'I wonder what my bird has missed the most.' Mercer's fingertips trace small circles at the top of my thigh, sending warm welcome tension racing through my cold body. 'Was it my cock, my hands or my tongue?' He laughs softly as his nails rake across my skin towards the juncture of my thighs. 'Such a needy little slut, I bet you've been dreaming about having all three inside you at once, haven't you?'

'I-' I start to say, but my words are lost beneath my hitched intake of breath as one of Mercer's hands reaches its destination and his fingers slip lazily between my legs. 'I haven't-' I start again through pursed lips, but despite my best intentions not to react, my hips instinctively rise to his slow and careless touch, my body arching to push myself closer to his hand and startling me when I feel how easily his fingers seem to slide between my parted legs.

I bite my lip, trying to summon the strength to open my mouth and tell him that I have not missed him, but Mercer's fingers find my clit and pleasure suddenly surges through me with the brief touch of his fingertip there, and when my mouth opens a moment later, I make only a needy whine rather than words.

I hear Mercer's quiet laugh of satisfaction before he takes his fingers away, and the loss of his touch allows me to regain a shred of composure.

'I haven't missed you,' I say firmly, although my breathing feels shallow in my chest and I have to fight not to close my legs to exacerbate the ache of pleasure piqued by his touch. 'And you're the one who followed me here all the way from Riften,' I add pointedly. 'I think it seems like you're the one who's missed-'

My words are lost beneath my gasp when I suddenly feel Mercer's mouth press against my core, the wet heat of his tongue sending a shudder of pleasure through my body as he licks slow and wide over me once.

He pulls away with a quiet laugh. 'Let's see, shall we?' he murmurs from between my legs, both his hands moving to grip my hips. 'But I think it seems like you're already dripping wet for me and you'll come within two minutes.'

I am about to argue otherwise when his mouth returns to my core and my gasp swiftly turns into a moan of delight. The Guildmaster wastes little time, focusing the slick heat of his tongue on my clit as pleasure courses violently through me, soon replacing the tense chill of my body with a fierce wet desire that I know I am helpless to stop.

I give in to the feeling willingly, the muscles in my thighs tightening and my hips rising to meet Mercer's mouth as my skin warms beneath the efforts of his tongue, wanting it more fiercely than I anticipated, remembering how I felt when he surprised me in the alley earlier and how easily I gave into him after my week of cold and disappointment. I haven't missed him, but I've missed feeling warm like this, I think faintly, hating my body's reaction but knowing I am as powerless to his touch as ever. I dig my hands into the covers around me, fighting the urge to reach down and bury my hands in the Guildmaster's hair to hold him in place, knowing that would likely result in getting my hands bound behind my back. I'm powerless enough without being tied up too.

Mercer indulges my pleasure for what feels like mere moments, pulling away quickly once he evidently realises that I can no longer deny how my body wants him - and my body seems intent on proving as much to him, as the tension inside me rises abruptly when he pulls away and a whine of painful frustration escapes me as the cold air rushes back to the heat between my legs. Before I can beg and plead as I know he wants me to, I suddenly hear a soft hissing sound, the unmistakeable sound of a dagger drawn slowly from its sheathe sending fear cutting through my pleasured daze.

'What are you doing?' I whisper nervously, opening my eyes uselessly behind the blindfold, remembering when he drew a dagger on me while we were in his bed before, recalling how hard he had fucked me with the sharp naked blade balanced upon my stomach between our bodies.

'Seeing how badly you want to come,' Mercer tells me, and I hear his familiar smirk curling over his words.

My breath catches in fright as I feel something hard and cold touch between my legs and I instinctively flinch back, frightened when my mind processes that the object is the handle of the Guildmaster's dagger. Before I can try to move away or feel relieved that at least it is not the other end of the weapon, Mercer grabs my hip with one hand and holds me still as he presses the pommel of his dagger to my slick core again.

'Mercer,' I say faintly, my body on edge at the proximity of the blade at my most sensitive place, but when the Guildmaster adjusts his hold on the dagger and starts to rub the length of the leather-bound handle over my clit slowly, I can do nothing to stop myself from feeling an uncontrollable sharp shudder of pleasure at the sudden pressure.

'Since you apparently haven't missed any part of me, you can have this instead,' Mercer says mockingly as I bite my lip against the feeling, not wanting to let my weakness go this far and not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how easily my body bends to his will. 'You always liked playing with your little daggers back at the Guild, didn't you? Did you ever think to use one for this?'

'Stop,' I say, lifting my hands with the intention of grabbing the blade and stopping him myself.

'Careful, little bird,' Mercer says before I can reach down, stilling his movement and pressing the handle against me hard enough that I gasp sharply. 'You've got one end of the dagger against your cunt, so what end do you think is pointing up at you?'

I drop my hands back to the bed, realising that blindly reaching down will likely only result in slicing my hands on the dagger's blade. I know how sharp his daggers are, I think, remembering how cleanly he cut through my clothing when I first found myself in the Guildmaster's room. I don't ever want him to cut my skin the same way.

'That's better,' Mercer says as I lie still on the bed, my hands clutching the furs beside me again while I try to control my body and crush down the lingering pleasure inside me – but the Guildmaster seems inclined to do the opposite, and as he resumes the careful movement of the dagger handle between my legs, I feel the dull ache start to rise inside me once more. 'Now let's see just how much you've missed me.'

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and try in vain not to react to his efforts, but a tight warmth soon spreads through my body, heat rising fast between my legs as the Guildmaster rubs his dagger in the wetness left by his mouth, and I realise I want it, I want him, I want to give way beneath his touch. Whatever touch, I don't care, as long as there is a release.

The handle is harder than both his tongue and his fingers, and the relentless firm pressure the Guildmaster applies against my clit soon overtakes whatever restraint I had left, my pleasure too far gone from his mouth for me to stop myself. Feeling my body's unyielding need for its release as surely as the pressure of the dagger's movement between my legs, I let my head fall back against the furs and I close my eyes beneath the blindfold, oblivious to the sight of what Mercer is doing and numb to anything but my mounting pleasure.

He said two minutes, but he's already won, I think, my breathing coming shorter as my back arches slightly away from the bed and my hips rock of their own accord, pushing my core against the hardness of the dagger before I can stop myself. Pleasure pulses deeply through me and I gasp at the sensation; my body reacts eagerly in its pursuit of its pleasure and I repeat the movement of my hips uncontrollably, matching the strokes of the dagger as I rub myself against it and whine needily with the feeling it brings me, wanting more, wanting it harder.

'If only you could see yourself right now, little bird,' Mercer murmurs as I feel his lips suddenly press against my inner thigh, the motion of the dagger not ceasing as his tongue runs over my skin briefly, leaving me shivering not with cold but with pleasure. 'Soaking wet and fucking the handle of my dagger like the desperate slut you are.'

I close my eyes tighter beneath the blindfold as he takes his mouth away again, glad that I cannot see myself, glad that I cannot see him, glad to ignore his words and think of only the pleasure building inside me. I don't care how it happens, I just want to feel good, I think, and with that thought, I give myself over to the Guildmaster's game, my warm body arching from the bed and a hitched moan of pleasure rising loudly from my lips as he works the dagger against me and I try to work myself against it twice as hard. Gods, I despise him but letting him win feels better than his anger, than my fear, than the fucking cold.

'Please,' I whine breathlessly a few seconds later when I register the Guildmaster beginning to slow the movement of the dagger, feeling myself on the edge and knowing that he will not allow me to fall over that edge without one last victory.

'Please, what?' the Guildmaster says mockingly, slowing the dagger strokes to an unbearably lethargic pace.

'Harder,' I beg, knowing well enough how to do it by now. 'Please, I want you-' I gasp as the Guildmaster adjusts the position of the dagger and presses the pommel directly against my aching clit, pleasure jolting through me almost painfully at the contact. 'More,' I manage to say. 'Please, Mercer.'

Mercer laughs harshly. 'Please, Mercer, I want you,' he mimics, his smirk audible to my ears even over the sounds of my quickened breathing. 'Are you thinking it's my cock rubbing up against your cunt right now?' He laughs again before he resumes the motion of the dagger against me, harder and faster than before. 'Go on then. Come for my cock, little bird.'

Some unconscious part of my body hears his demand and before I can stop myself, I am forced to obey the Guildmaster just as helplessly as ever; as he rubs the pommel of his dagger against me, the ache of pleasure peaks inside me abruptly and I cry out as I come for him, my thighs tensing and my hips jerking upwards into the pressure before the feeling crashes over me, dragging away every thought from my mind and leaving every inch of my body slack and warm as I sink back into the furs at last with a final gasping moan.

My breathing heavy and my limbs limp from the release, it takes me a while to reconnect my mind and remember exactly what has happened to leave me feeling so dazed. When I open my eyes and find the blindfold obscuring my vision, I remember where I am and who is responsible for my body's spent senselessness – at which point, I suddenly register the touch of something warm and hard on my stomach, quickly realising that Mercer is running the dagger over my stomach, leaving a trail of dampness on my flushed skin.

'So wet,' Mercer says softly, his tone derisive. 'How the fuck am I supposed to use this now, bird?'

I know how you can use it, I answer in my head, my body weak from my release but my mind starting to work clearly enough, my humiliation at my body's reaction to him burning hot and angry through me in the wake of my pleasure. I'd bury the blade in his heart if I could, just to see him at my mercy for once.

The Guildmaster seems to read my mind, or perhaps the blindfold does little to hide the thoughts written on my face, and he makes a quiet snort of laughter before I feel him trace the dagger back down my stomach to between my legs.

'Maybe you want me to use it inside you now,' he says softly, my exhausted body tensing hard in fear as Mercer taps the chilly flat of the blade lightly against me, rather than the handle he used on me before. 'You want me to slip this end inside your cunt and fuck you, Wren? Is that how I should use it?'

'No,' I manage to say, sudden panic and the remnants of my release weakening my voice, fear not pleasure striking through me now at the touch of the blade. 'Please-'

'No?' Mercer repeats as he holds the flat of the sharp blade against my sex. 'Then what do you want inside you, little slut?'

'You,' I say desperately, not needing to force the pleading tone into my voice, suddenly painfully aware of the situation I have allowed to escalate. He is dangerous enough without his blade, and I just let him pleasure me with it, I begged him for it. 'Please. I want you inside me, your cock, just you, Mercer, please.'

The Guildmaster makes a quiet sound of approval in his throat and relief flickers through me as he takes the dagger away from between my legs. 'Open your little mouth wide, Wren,' he commands, and I feel the mattress dip underneath me as Mercer climbs over my body until his knees rest either side of my torso and one of his hands buries in my hair to hold my head steady.

I obey, parting my lips wide, assuming he will move forward to use my mouth for his satisfaction again and deciding that I will bear whatever discomfort to my throat he wants to inflict if it meant the Guildmaster tosses aside the dagger – but my heart stutters in my chest when I feel the flat blade of that very weapon brush against my lower lip.

'Shh,' Mercer murmurs as I try to flinch away and his hand tightens in my hair, holding my head in place with the dagger poised in my open mouth. 'Stay still, bite down and it won't hurt.'

I make a sound of fear in my throat, too afraid to move my lips, but the Guildmaster does not offer any reassurance and I feel his fingers knot roughly in my curls.

'Bite down, slut,' he says quietly, his impatience edging each word, and I realise I have no choice but to obey. If I don't, with one flick of his wrist he could drive the dagger into my throat.

Tentatively, I bring my teeth together over the flat of the blade, trying to keep my lips away from the sharp edges, remembering vividly how easily the dagger tore through my clothes. It's far lighter than I thought, I realise as I feel Mercer release the handle and I hold the blade in my mouth, resisting the desperate desire to reach up with my hands to take the dagger away, knowing that Mercer will only do worse if I tried such a thing.

'Finally,' the Guildmaster says as he moves back down my body and settles between my legs, his hands grabbing my thighs and pushing them wider apart. 'I almost forgot, you never fucking remember your lessons if I make you come first, do you?'

I do not answer, my mind focused on the sensation of the dagger in my mouth, my jaw already aching with the tension of keeping it balanced between my teeth – although the sudden nudge of Mercer's hard cock between my legs interrupts my concentration and I struggle to focus on the blade in my mouth as the Guildmaster grasps my legs and pushes my knees back to my waist, opening me for him and pressing his weight onto my legs with both hands to keep me that way.

'Gods, you really are more agreeable with something in your mouth,' he mutters, before he thrusts his cock inside me without another word and pushes himself to my depths in one rough motion.

I gasp sharply at the intrusion, my muscles fluttering painfully around his cock and my ragged warm breath wetting the dagger between my teeth as I hear the Guildmaster's groan of satisfaction at the tight heat of my core.

I have barely a moment to adjust to the feel of him inside me before he withdraws and slams his cock deep within me once more; his force jolts my entire body and I try desperately to keep the dagger steady in my mouth as the Guildmaster quickly sets a hard pace inside me, his fingernails digging deeply into the soft skin of my thighs while he grips my legs and jerks my body towards him to meet his rough thrusts. I bite down harder on the blade, the dagger providing a strangely effective distraction from the discomfort between my legs, my focus directed on keeping my lips away from the sharp edges of the blade - although somewhere distantly in my body, I register the pain of Mercer's brutal efforts soon fading as my body adjusts to him, replacing the discomfort with a dull ache of longing as the heat between our bodies steadily floods my veins with a renewed warmth.

I soon moan quietly from behind the blade with every one of the Guildmaster's thrusts, my sensitive core starting to respond to his ungentle attentions just as eagerly as I responded to the pressure of the dagger, although I know well enough that this is not for me, that he will not let me come again, that his efforts are not in pursuit of my satisfaction but his own. And he's already gained most of his own satisfaction from having me at his mercy, I realise, closing my eyes tightly beneath the blindfold and burying my hands in the covers as the Guildmaster fucks me hard and fast, chasing the peak of his pleasure almost as impatiently as I chased my own.

When his pace quickens and his breathing hitches into deep groans, I realise he is close and I brace my body against his strength, my back arching to meet the Guildmaster's thrusts. I grip him tightly inside me, and from behind the blade, I make pleading pleasured whimpers deliberately in an attempt to bring him to his satisfaction. I know by now that he enjoys hearing me beg, but with the dagger in my mouth, all I can do is moan for him.

It seems to work nonetheless, and Mercer comes hard a minute later, finishing deep inside me with a groan and several rough thrusts that leave me crying out entirely genuinely. I bite down hard on the blade with my teeth as he spends himself inside me, forcing my body to remain still and feeling my hot breath against the wet dagger in my mouth, terrified to let the blade slip and cut my lips.

The Guildmaster holds himself inside me for longer than I think I can bear, and as I listen to his breathing slowly return to normal and his hands relent their grip on my legs, I feel his satisfied gaze trawling my face and body and I realise how glad I am for the blindfold over my eyes. Playing his game and letting him win is one thing, I think, feeling a bitter shiver chase down my spine as I wait for the Guildmaster to decide he has finished with me, knowing that I cannot remove the blade or the blindfold myself. It's afterwards, it's when I see the look in his eyes and hear the words he says to me. It's when I realise how fucking stupid I am for entangling myself with him no matter how badly he hurts me. It's when I realise that the warmth never lasts and all I'm left with is the cold, the fear, and the humiliation.

As if he hears my thoughts and wants to further prove the point, Mercer laughs softly and digs his fingers harder into my thighs, waiting to hear my sharp intake of breath before he pulls himself out of me roughly. I force back a shudder at the sensation, the sharp loss startling my muscles and leaving me suddenly aware of the empty dull ache in my core from bearing the brunt of the Guildmaster's pleasure.

Gods, it doesn't hurt as bad as what he's done before, I remind myself, forcing my body to remain still and silent as Mercer releases my legs and lets them slip down weakly onto the furs before he leans over me, one hand resting his weight beside my head again while the other creeps upwards over my neck, his fingers pressing into my skin and feeling my quickened pulse for a few moments.

'Open up, little bird,' he says, before I feel his hand move up to grasp the handle of the dagger in my mouth.

Relieved, I ease apart my teeth carefully, and I cannot help but sigh gladly as Mercer takes the dagger from between my lips; when I move my mouth gingerly, a fractured moan escapes me at the sensation of relief and pain, my jaw aching fiercely from the tension.

Mercer laughs quietly as he climbs off my body to lie beside me and I hear him toss aside the dagger to the foot of the bed. 'Does the little bird want to see again?' he says, one hand brushing a few stray curls back from my face before his fingers trace gently over the blindfold across my eyes. 'Or does she want me to make her come again?'

My mouth still aching and my body's heat swiftly cooling in the chilly air, I do not answer, not wanting to play his game any longer and yet knowing that I will likely not have a choice. It's not a game I can end, I think, realising that if I could do such a thing, I would have ended it long ago. When this ends, it will be on his terms, and I know they will not be in my favour.

At my silence, Mercer sighs and his hand slips from my face to stroke down my neck again. 'Look at me, Wren,' he orders.

I turn my head towards the sound of his voice, unseeing beneath the blindfold but picturing him clearly in my mind nonetheless, knowing his satisfied smirk better than my own smile and feeling my skin crawl with the knowledge of how much he enjoys my weakness and my obedience. But imagining his smirk at my humiliation is better than seeing the flash of cold dangerous anger in his dark eyes, I think, recalling the look of pure fury in the Guildmaster's gaze more than once and recalling just as vividly how he hurt me afterwards. He always wins either way, and I'd rather beg and humiliate myself if it means he gives me some brief twisted pleasure rather than pain.

'I asked you a question,' Mercer says as his hand moves down my chest, brushing lightly over my naked breasts, his touch sending a shiver through my body. 'Shall I take off your blindfold or shall I let you come?'

I feel the dull ache between my legs flicker into something sharper as his warm hand slides further down my torso, but Mercer stills the descent of his hand before he reaches the place where I suddenly realise I want him; as he waits silently for my answer, his fingers trace a pattern on my lower stomach just below my navel - and beneath his touch, a warm knot of desire forms inside me, tightening in expectation and with the knowledge that letting him win feels better than fighting, better than demanding I deserve better, better than denying my weak body what it wants and risking the sharpness of his anger in return.

Between the handle of the dagger or the blade, I choose the handle.

'Leave it on,' I whisper. 'Please. Fuck me again.'

I hear the Guildmaster make a sound of satisfaction in his throat. 'What a surprise,' he murmurs sarcastically, before his hand moves down my body, pushing my thighs wider apart once more to allow his fingers to slip between my legs. 'The poor little bird just can't help herself, can she?'

I let his words fall into the back of my mind, neither capable nor inclined to answer as I feel my body soon sink into the warmth of the furs beneath me, the heat of my skin rising just as swiftly as the needy ache of pleasure at Mercer's skilled touch between my legs.

Whatever else he does to me, at least he can keep me warm in this fucking cold place, I think as I close my eyes tighter beneath the blindfold, no longer feeling the chill of the night air, no longer feeling my fear or humiliation, no longer feeling anything but the pressure of the pleasure inside me and blind shadows pressing in on me, both threatening to consume me until I willingly lose myself in the embrace of the darkness and I concede victory to the Guildmaster's game one more time.