Win My Vote [Kev/Asirikai]

[kevna]

Asirikai - Lord Holder Candidate

Nalyra’s gaze dropped again, his future title rolling off her lips in conjunction with it, almost made him lose it. His body trembled with his restraint. There was something very primal in him witnessing her submission. Or semi-submission. She hadn’t lost her attitude, which she proved as she dropped the belt like a bold, disrespectful soldier, but he would take what she would give at this point. He needed, needed to channel the anger and lust, and he suspected she would let him take what no other woman had ever pushed him to need. He only narrowed his eyes at her words, her tone maddeningly impudent. He couldn’t expect perfection without a little training. Too bad he only had her for a night. He had learned his lesson about inviting her into his room and he wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I am perfectly capable, Nalyra. No more games.” The hint of exasperation laced his tone. Women could be so sharding frustrating. Once she was close enough his hands struck out for her wrists, so she wouldn’t do the job he was looking so forward to doing himself. He pushed them behind her back more roughly than he intended and detained them in one hand, crouching as he did so and allowing his other arm to wrap around her lower half and elevate her to his level so he could start where he had left off on her lips. He wanted to see proof that his had warred with hers. There was no more restraint left in him, and he felt like an animal as they tumbled into the bed. He made short work of her shirt. She wouldn’t be walking out in it with the condition it was in, so he ripped it from her body forcefully, finishing the job she had already started.

He didn’t hold back any longer. Couldn’t have if he tried as he fell over the edge. He lost himself in her flesh as his lips discovered more of it, his teeth tested it, and his tongue claimed it. He would make her his for the night, mark her as under his command. If she got too demanding or forceful, he would dominate her. Any pleasure she would gain would be because he gave it to her, not because she took it. He would be unmerciful as he took what he pleased and gave what he willed. He would make her as frustrated as she had made him, and when he was ready, he would enjoy finally appeasing her.

[Zen]

Nalyra

What she experienced with Asirikai was entirely new and had her warring with herself the entire time. Her rebellious nature constantly wanted to defy the dominion she had agreed to give him over her and submission was far easier said than done. No man had ever denied her like he did, taking as he pleased for himself and giving only when the whim struck him. The frustration built to a simmering fury that she could only swallow and accept under his command. It left her trembling with no way to properly release it and she hated what he had managed to bring her to even as she took a strange pleasure in his strength. Bending to his will was hardly easy for her, but he didn’t leave her with much choice. Keeping her in her place as he laid claim to her was all too easy for him and it only fed that simmering fury in her belly. He continued to drive home the point that she wouldn’t be satisfied until he allowed it. Before he was done with her he nearly had her begging, nearly, but she managed to bite it back, and what might have been pleas turned into humiliating whimpers instead as she wasn’t quite able to hold back the ever more desperate need he built in her.

He left her both satisfied and seething at having to wait to be given what she normally took for herself. It had been a test of her own willpower, to follow through on her offer of submission and not fight him at every turn, and it left her exhausted. It was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever done in her life, she was so coded to fight and rebel, to never allow anyone to control her ever again. And yet by the rights of her own code, he deserved her submission. Nalyra would yield to a strength that beat her own, and he had in every sense. She could hate it all she wanted, but he had won her game and now he’d gotten his prize. As she lay there with her simmering fury, she was quite resolved not to let it happen again. She had teased him earlier about trying a new meal, but she did not like the taste of this at all, and after his masterful dominion, she very much doubted he would have enjoyed submitting to her any more than she had. At least his promise that it would not be some kind, gentle lovemaking had held true or there would be no satisfaction to be had to make it at all bearable.

Pushing herself up with a soft groan, she looked over at him, her tone edged in a growl she couldn’t quite suppress, “Are you satisfied, my lord?” She didn’t know if she could take anymore if he wasn’t done with her yet. She was already too exhausted from her internal fight with herself, she didn’t think she could do any more submitting for the night. Or for the rest of her life, preferably. She didn’t even have the energy to do anything about her fury… she would just have to drink when she got back to her ship and hope she could drown it for the time being. She didn’t make a habit of getting herself drunk, but she sure as shells needed it tonight. Maybe she would raid Treyjen’s quarters if he wasn’t there just to piss him off. He still had to answer for telling Asirikai things he hadn’t needed to know. Her voice dripped sarcasm, “If it pleases you, I’ll take my leave… though I may need to borrow a shirt, unless you’d rather I walk out of here half naked?” As eager as she was to leave, she was still working up the effort to get out of bed, and eyed the distance to her discarded leggings with some annoyance. She honestly couldn’t care less about the possibility of walking through the caverns topless, but she figured it was a safe guess that he might prefer she didn’t leave his room only half clothed.

kevna

[kevna]

Asirikai - Lord Holder Candidate

His body was somewhat appeased, gratified as it was. Her submission had been genuine, even if she had struggled to please herself when his tormenting had driven her to the edge, he had easily subdued her, and she had settled. He had punished her, and with that punishment, his anger had abated. Somewhat at least. In some way she had still gotten what she had wanted, hadn’t she? She had manipulated him into playing her game and she had still ended up in his bed. He may have won, but he had still lost control. Let his temper get the better of him and she had tasted it.

There was also the small matter of guilt that plagued him as well. He had not been soft, or kind, and the animalistic taking had the stink of dishonor. His only comfort was he had warned her. Given her opportunities to leave. But when she had admitted defeat? He hadn’t given her an out then now had he? He had just taken the spoils. He ran a hand through his hair, breathing deeply, his eyes taking her in, measuring where and if she would bruise. Still, she had asked for it. Practically begged. He wouldn’t allow the guilt to imbed, he would just resolve himself to be better.

He rolled to his side at her growled question, the obvious frustration or anger plain in her voice. His first genuine, if small, amused smile appeared briefly as he basked in her irritation. She could be gruff all she wanted; he knew he had satisfied her in the end based on the noises he had pulled from her. This whole situation was her fault, she had done this to herself. Her tone only confirmed that he hadn’t smothered her internal fire in any way, done any damage. Fear, now fear, would have affected him. “Aye, enough.” He wasn’t a wordy person, she could take what she willed from the brief, pointed words.

She was so openly resentful, what with her words and tone; he was tempted to pull her back under him and remind her of why disrespect wasn’t a good idea with him. Tempted. But logic had taken control of the reins again. It was late enough that if she left now, she’d likely not run into anyone, but early enough that dallying wasn't ideal, and the last thing he needed was to lose any sort of control again. He only raised an eyebrow at her, rolled, and stood, uncaring for his state of undress. He walked to one of his chests, crouched before it, and sorted through the shirts until he came upon one of his older, at sea fishing shirts. It was stained with salt and squid ink, but clean. He was tempted to walk by her breeches, but instead simply nudged them to the side of the bed and then dropped the shirt on her. “Keep it.” His voice was firm, he didn’t want to see her again, and from what he could tell, she would be just fine with that. Yes, he had taught her a lesson. He felt a smug satisfaction in that.

He didn’t get back into bed, nor did he dress. He moved back to his desk, grabbed the throwing knives and put them back into place in their drawer, and then replaced the whiskey with the other bottles of alcohol. He moved to the door, intending to withdraw the fifth and last dagger before he let her out of his room. Upon inspection he cursed inwardly. There was splintering. He didn’t think it had pierced all the way through the door, but nonetheless he would have to replace the door. She had made him break his door. He grabbed the doorknob angrily, turning to her. “You should know, Nalyra, I only give second chances. If you continue to pirate after I become Lord Holder, our next encounter will not be nearly as pleasant. I do follow through on my threats.”

He opened the door for her, remaining somewhat hidden behind it, and waited for her to leave, expecting that saunter she had used when entering. There was still the possibility she could ruin him, but there was nothing he could do now. That rankled too.

[Zen]

Nalyra

The small smile that flashed briefly over his lips at her question only further served to increase her irritation. The one she was most angry with was in fact herself, for allowing herself to be bested by a man. She had made a threat she had not thought through and couldn’t act on, but what was worse was that she would have acted on it, if he hadn’t pointed out to her how it would hurt her crew. It was a stupid mistake she shouldn’t have made. She shouldn’t need someone else to point out how her actions could affect her crew. She was a captain, she should anticipate these things long before anyone else. She had been acting, as he had said, like a spoiled little girl, thinking of no one but herself. So perhaps she had deserved her punishment at his hands. It would certainly serve as a good reminder not to act so rashly again. The crew depended on her and she had nearly let them down in an inexcusable way, all for her own selfish satisfaction. That it had taken Asirikai to make her realize that was….

She looked away from him at the flicker of shame she felt. It wasn’t a feeling she was used to. She had not just threatened him, but everyone she cared about. If Asirikai really could offer them a new life… one that would make them happier… she owed it to them to protect that, to see that it came to be. His answer drew her attention back, her gaze narrowing slightly as she considered him. He had to win. In Nalyra’s mind, he was already Lord of Mavros. There could be no other. As if his competition could compare to him, anyway. She would have to look into them in the coming days and see if she just might be able to make any plays of her own. It could turn out to be quite an amusing venture. It would be easy to fan the flames of any unfavorable rumors or fabricate new ones, sow doubts. Asirikai could most certainly stand on his own, but the populace in general was just as easily swayed by weak fools who could put on convincing shows. She did not trust their judgment and she would not risk it.

She continued to watch him as he stood from the bed without a word in response to her second question. Well, she didn’t mind enjoying the view he offered while she waited for her answer. It was apparent soon enough he had gone to fetch her a shirt, heading back to toss it at her, and he was even so kind as to move her leggings closer for her. “So generous, my lord,” she couldn’t help the sarcasm. Letting her fury out in even the tiniest ways brought some small relief. She slipped the shirt on, which was comically large on her small frame, and finally forced herself to her feet, grabbing up her leggings on the way and tugging them on. Her body ached in several places from the punishing way he had handled her, but there was a certain satisfaction in the pain. She anticipated finding several of his marks on her body when she woke tomorrow.

With a small wince, she sat back on the bed to pull her boots on, though she was mildly distracted as he continued to move around the room, her amber eyes following him, tracing over taut muscle. He certainly did have the build of a sailor, didn’t he? She had stopped to watch him with her second boot about half on when he suddenly turned back to her, and so she tugged it on all the way as he spoke. A warning. She considered it as he opened the door and she pushed back to her feet, walking around his desk to where her belt still lay discarded in the middle of the floor and slipping it around her waist to cinch in his shirt and give her a bit more shape. She never wore such loose fitting clothing and it made her feel just a little more comfortable, even if the belt ended up chafing a sensitive spot. It would only be until she made it back to her ship, anyway.

She paused before she stepped out, letting her gaze rake the length of him one more time in appreciation until she reached his face, running her hands through her hair to untangle the worst of the muss before she left, “Well, it would be difficult to pirate without a crew, wouldn’t it? If what they want is your offered clemency, I don’t have much choice.” It wasn’t particularly what she wanted. She enjoyed being a pirate, doing whatever she pleased with no one to answer to, the complete and utter freedom. So what if there were Holds they couldn’t visit? What could she possibly want from one Hold that she couldn’t get from another? But the vast majority of the crew seemed to want to throw their lot in with Mavros for good, to make it a real home, not somewhere they were tolerated, but wholeheartedly welcome. And most of all they wanted to stop killing. But kill or be killed had become her way of life and she didn’t want to return to the confines of societal law. The strong would always take from the weak, in the end.

So she wasn’t sure where that left her, but she did know that she owed her crew a debt she didn’t think she could ever repay for granting her that freedom for as long as they had. They had more than earned the right to choose their own future for themselves, and if a return to normalcy was what they wanted, she would not deny them. They had given enough to her and it was time to give back. “You should know, Asirikai,” she started, mirroring his own words, “That you managed to convince me. My support is yours.” No longer prospective, her support came with more than just her single vote, not that he would ever know of the backhanded tactics she was prepared to use to tip the scales in his favor. He couldn’t be implicated in collusion if he never knew, and there would be no way to trace her actions back to him anyway. Subterfuge was a weapon she could wield quite deftly when she wanted to. Getting inside the minds of others was her specialty, after all. She didn’t need to talk Asirikai up, he could make his own impressions, and Treyjen was already doing that besides, but she could certainly help bring his competition down in the minds of the Mavrosi. A small smirk set on her lips, “It has certainly been an experience, my lord. I assure you, your time with me was not wasted.” And with that vaguely cryptic remark she strode into the hall, lifting her hand to wiggle her fingers back at him in farewell as she went.

kevna

[kevna]

Asirikai - Lord Holder Candidate

He again ignored the sarcasm, ignored her altogether. She fed off of reaction, and so he just wouldn’t give her one. Nothing to instigate another game. Inaction was the best action when it came to dealing with her. He could almost imagine her watching him as he moved about his room, and then to his door. When he had turned she was just finishing with her last boot, and her eyes had been on him. Maybe as long as he had suspected, but possibly not.

His threat hung in the air as she retrieved her belt, taking her sweet time. He surveyed the way the shirt hung, hiding the delectable curves, until she cinched her shirt. No one would know who’s shirt she wore, not unless she shared. It could be any mans. Her gaze scoured over him, that hint of fire in her. He had liked controlling that fire a little too much, and would be glad to see the last of her.

“I don’t have much choice.”

The phrasing pleased him, again abating the anger. His control over her would extend past this night once the election was over, robbing her of choice indeed, reminding her of him; his answering smile to her words was edged, predatory in nature. “I suppose not.” But he wouldn’t underestimate her again, he wouldn’t trust in that control, because he wouldn’t be there physically to oversee it. He was sure she would be capable to finding a new crew if she was bent on continuing her marauding.

Her next words started much as his had, and he expected a threat in return. Not surprising. Her next words weren’t though, and his eyebrows rose quizzically. So roughing her up, insulting her, and refuting her had convinced her? What a strange woman. He didn’t have anything to say to that, and he didn’t think he wanted her vote. Not after this night. While those words weren’t a threat, her last to him sure sounded like it, and he narrowed his eyes at her. “Is that so?” He said quietly into the dark, his suspicion clear. If her words were true, he had nothing to worry about when it came to his reputation. The door closed, he turned and looked at the bed. He didn’t think he’d get good sleep after that visit, and those last words. Sharding woman.