The Sixth School Ch 062

Author's note.

1). Feedback from my readers is my fuel to keep writing. If you enjoy my work, please take the time to let me know in the comments. It does wonders for my motivation to write.

2). If you read the chapter, please take the time to rate it. It's just a few clicks of the screen.

***

All Characters in the story are 18 years of age and above...

***

Chapter Sixty Two: A woman scorned...

A mocking smile crossed Greg's lips even as he moved across the room to stand before the grimacing merchant. He was careful not to come within arm's reach of either the man or his wife. If any of them thought to try anything, he'd have at least a second to react. With his draw speed, he was certain he could let loose an arrow in that window. While the merchant was gritting his teeth because of the pain and directing a baleful glare at him, his wife stood frozen. It had taken a second, but Greg could see that it was finally sinking in what her husband had just done. That she was only alive, not because the man she loved had protected her, but because their foe had seen through him. Her gaze slowly turned in the merchant's direction and Greg could see the betrayal she felt. His smile only widened as he drove the dagger deeper.

"I can understand why a soulless worm like you wouldn't care anything about my sister, Sir Joram. But your own wife?" He posed, leaving the implication unspoken. "Look at her," Greg taunted the man who was glaring fixedly at him. Although the merchant had every reason to be angry with him, Greg suspected that part of the reason he was glaring so fixedly on him was because he wasn't willing to see the accusation and betrayal in his wife's eyes. But the more Greg could drive a wedge between the man and his wife, the easier it would be to have her help him afterward.

"Look into her eyes, Sir Joram," He repeated his voice barely above a whisper. "What? Are you too scared to face your own wife? Are you scared of what she'll see? Are you afraid that she'll see you for the coward that you are?" he goaded the man.

His words must have gotten under the man's skin as he finally turned his eyes in the direction of the wife he'd abandoned. "Zarra... I..." the man's already weak tone of voice was cut short as the sound of a harsh slap filled the room. The man's head swung to the side, an angry red palm print already forming on the side of his face. The shame on the man's face quickly turned into rage as he turned to glare at his wife. "How dare you..." the sound of another harsh slap once again cut the man short as his other cheek also started to turn red.

The man turned a scorching glare on his wife. Before he could say anything, however, she beat him to the punch. "You... you were going to let me die, weren't you?" Despite her voice shaking with anger, both men could hear the pain of betrayal in her voice.

"I was jumping out of the way so that this madman wouldn't shoot you along with me!" The merchant snapped.

A mocking bout of laughter erupted from Greg at the flimsy excuse that the man had come up with. From the way the man couldn't fully meet his wife's eyes and the weak almost whiny tone of voice in which the words were delivered, it's clear that not even he believed his own words. Zarra's eyes went from showing hurt to cold fury, then from fury, it slowly morphed into deep contempt. It was clear that making an excuse for his cowardice was the worst move that the merchant could have made at this juncture. "You really think me a naïve fool, don't you?" she growled, in a glacial tone.

Without awaiting an answer from her husband, Zarra turned to him. Greg could still see the fear in her eyes and hear it in her voice as she addressed him. Still, the anger evoked by her husband's actions evoked enough courage for her to speak with only a slight tremor in her voice. "You... your quarrel is with my husband, " She mustered the courage to say.

"You backstabbing whore!" Sir Joram's rage-filled voice cut his wife off before she could say anything else. "I gave you everything and this is how you repay me? By trying to abandon me?" he spat venomously.

It's a good thing that Zarra had turned to her husband at his outburst. Otherwise, she would have noticed the fact that Greg was momentarily stunned out of character. Just how much shamelessness would one need to have to make that accusation just moments after they had tried to escape and leave their wife behind? Even Greg was momentarily tempted to tell the man to stop there and not dig himself into any deeper a hole. Whether it was out of guilt and shame, or because he truly believed it, the man continued to try and shift all blame to his wife. "Don't you look at me like that! I gave you everything you could ever want and yet, at the first sign of trouble you want to distance yourself from me and act like you never had anything to do with me!" He accused. "Well, guess what? Your clothes, your jewelry, even this mansion, it's all from the money I made doing what needs to be done. So don't act like you are some kind of saint, you are just as guilty as I am," The man accused, his face red and his breath coming in short huffs as a result of his tirade.

While Zarra had once again been stunned into silence, Greg could see it as the contempt in her eyes finally morphed into hatred. Even a fool could see what her husband was trying to do. First, he had failed in his duty as her husband. Rather than protect her, he had tried to leave her behind to die even as he ran away. But, as if that wasn't bad enough, now that his escape had failed, he was unwilling to see her try to save herself. Instead, he was trying to drag her down with him. When the woman turned to regard Greg, he had to fight the urge to smile, he didn't need to continue trying to turn her against her husband. The man had succeeded in doing it all by himself.

The slight tremor had vanished from her voice even as she spoke. "Your quarrel is with my husband, I haven't done anything to harm your family," The woman argued for herself.

Glaring at her, Greg growled. "Do you honestly expect me to believe that you never suspected anything? That you never knew what was going on with your husband?" he questioned, already knowing the answer. The only way to make their interaction easier, was if she believed she was in the wrong too. Since Greg didn't plan to kill her, she needed an incentive to cooperate willingly. If she thought of herself as innocent, Greg would be the bad guy compelling her to act through the threat of force. But if she thought of herself as complicit in her husband's actions. Then her help to him would be her penance, atoning for her role in his pain.

To her credit, the woman didn't try to lie to him to save herself. Instead, her gaze dropped to the ground. "He was my husband, and I'm just a woman, what was I supposed to do? What could I do?" She pressed. "I couldn't stop him myself. I was afraid of what he'd do to me if he realized that I knew about his darker dealings. I also couldn't turn him over to anyone in this city. Half of them are already paid off by him and the other half is just as, if not more, corrupt than he is. Justice in this city is only those who have enough coin or power to take it," She revealed in a bleak tone of resignation. Greg could tell that the woman was being serious and not just trying to save herself.

"A day!" Greg had allowed the silence to hang between them until it was almost unbearable before he spoke up. "Serve me for a single day and I won't harm you in any way," He offered. The woman almost sagged with relief for having somehow managed to save her life. Greg's glare, however, only intensified as he spoke. "Your husband's fate, however, is sealed! Nothing you do or say will save him from his fate," He growled with a dangerous gleam in his eye. Greg would have to disabuse her of any hope she might harbor, lest it become an impediment later on.

Luckily for him, going by the glare that the woman sent her husband's way, he needn't have worried. "His fate is his own. So long as you can spare me, you can do whatever you want with him," She answered in a tone colder than a glacier.

"You... aah!"

A scream tore out of the man's throat as Greg cut off whatever tirade he was about to launch into by sending another arrow through his other shoulder and into the wall behind him. The man was now pinned by both shoulders to the wall behind him. Picking one of the cloth covers for the seats, Greg bunched it up into a ball and shoved it into the man's mouth, effectively cutting off the sound he was producing before it could draw any unwanted attention. This was still the noble district, if the city guards that patrolled this district got wind of what was going on here, things would get a lot more troublesome. With the sounds coming from the man muffled, Greg could now be heard as he growled. "Keep on screaming and the next arrow will go between your legs!" he warned. The effect was immediate as the man's scream turned into a whimper.

Zarra, who had been looking on pitilessly at her husband, turned to Greg when she felt his hand brush against her cheek. "Are you ready to serve?" he asked, not hiding the way his eyes roamed over her curvaceous body. Understanding what he was implying, the merchant who'd calmed down, started to try and shout something through the gag in his mouth, his glare shifting between his wife and his assailant. All his fiery indignation, however, very quickly petered out when Greg's soul bow once again appeared in his hand and he turned a cold glare in the merchant's direction. From the look in his eyes, the merchant could probably tell that Greg would make good on his threat if he didn't shut up. Greg held the man's gaze until the merchant finally dropped his eyes to the floor.

Dismissing the bow, Greg turned his gaze to Zarra once more. Greg had to school his features not to show his surprise when he found that the woman's cheeks had grown a few shades redder and her gaze on the floor. Of course, Greg hadn't forgotten the fact that he had an innate title of AROUSING. He, however, had suspected that the fact that he was threatening their lives would have raised the woman's resistance beyond what the title could undo in a day. Looking at her, however, Greg could see it clear in the way she was biting her lips and her gaze refused to meet his fully that despite everything, she was aroused.

The more he thought about it, however, the more sense it made. During his first dungeon run, something similar had happened. Although Greg didn't use force that time, the woman still wanted him to take all control from her. She'd wanted him to play the role of the monster taking all control, which in turn would free her to indulge in all her desires without having to bear any responsibility for it, after all, she was only a poor damsel complying with what the monster wanted. Now that she had been given some assurance of her safety, enough of her fear had been assuaged that her unconscious desires were surfacing. Of course, there was still some danger present in the situation, but in a twisted way, it only served to heighten her arousal. After all, unlike during Greg's first dungeon run, this was no longer a game of pretense. Here was a real monster, one that was truly dangerous. And here she was, completely at his mercy.

There were muffled sounds of protest from the man pinned against the wall drawing his wife's attention to him. But rather than getting her to reconsider, the woman just smiled at her husband even as she lowered herself onto her knees, before Greg. Without prompting, her hands rose to glide along his left leg until her tight hand came to cup his rapidly hardening cock. "I am ready to serve," she answered him in a voice soaked through and dripping with lust. Greg couldn't help the feeling of satisfaction as he watched the woman's eyes widen as she felt along the length of his cock. "It... It's so big! Almost twice that of my husband!" she said disbelievingly.

Greg couldn't help but feel sorry for the merchant. How much bigger he was than the man, he didn't know. Greg, however, was almost certain that the woman had made the comparison just to hurt the man that first abandoned her, then later on tried to get her killed along with him. Laying his hand on her head, Greg guided her head closer. Offering no resistance, Zarra brought her face close to his manhood, her lips placing a long kiss on the engorged head of his cock through the fabric of his pants. Greg let out a sigh of pleasure even as the woman trailed a line of kisses along the length of his shaft, going from his cock head all the way up to the base of his shaft.

If a glare could cut, then the merchant's eyes would have already reduced his wife to ribbons even as she reached up and slowly, in an almost intimate manner, started to pull his pants down. The man looked down at the two arrows pinning him to the wall through his shoulders. There was some bleeding on both sides but not excessive in either. Though it hadn't been intentional, it seemed that while Greg had caused some damage, he'd not hit any major blood vessels. Greg could tell that Sir Joram was trying to figure out a way to get free of them. Pulling them back out was a no-go as the arrowheads would just do more damage if they once again reentered his body. The only safe way to go about it would be to snap off the shafts of the arrows where they entered his body, grit his teeth, and push off from the wall. The pain would be excruciating, but in the rage that he was in, Greg doubted that the man wouldn't be able to grit his teeth and bear it.

The only reason the man didn't, Greg suspected, is because of the cold looks Greg kept sending his way every three to five seconds. No threats were spoken, but the look in Greg's eyes left very little doubt that Greg would pin him to the wall with even more arrows if he tried to break free of the two. This time the man had been lucky not to bleed out from an arrow nicking the wrong blood vessel. He, however, was acutely aware that he might not be so lucky next time. The man didn't harbor any illusions that Greg was trying to keep him alive to watch what was happening with his wife. Greg's cold eyes quietly relayed that he'd be just as happy to watch the man bleed out on the wall while he fucked his wife. And so the man was forced to grit his teeth in boiling rage and watch what was happening.

A groan of pleasure left Greg's mouth even as Zarra's warm wet mouth engulfed the head of his cock. Greg could feel her tongue lovingly caress the underside of his bulbous head sending tendrils of pleasure coursing throughout Greg's body. Showering it in love and attention, the woman gave the head of his cock a tongue massage that had his toes curling in pleasure. Greg had to quietly pinch himself at the waist to keep from losing himself to the pleasure. Much as he was in control at the moment, the tables could all too easily be turned if he was careless. This was the reason why, every five or so seconds, Greg forced himself to turn away from Zarra's alluring form and turn his attention to the merchant. That way, the pinned man wouldn't have the chance to try anything because Greg was distracted. Sometimes Greg even looked before the five seconds were up, just to ensure that he wasn't being too predictable.

Forgetting his fear of death, the man started attempting to angrily shout something at him. There were a few seconds of incomprehension on the part of Greg before it suddenly clicked why this was. While he was only remaining vigilant, to Sir Joram, it must have seemed like Greg was taunting him. Here was his wife, on her knees and sucking him off like there was no tomorrow. And he kept looking between the woman and him. To Sir Joram Greg seemed to be in an unassailable position and so, the thought that Greg was on guard wouldn't be the first thing he jumped to. Instead, he must have thought that Greg was silently rubbing his victory in the man's face. A smile crossed Greg's lips even as he regarded the man screaming impotently into his gag. The man was his enemy. At this point, there was no hope of reconciliation, and if Greg had his way, the merchant would soon be dead. He might not have been trying to taunt the man before but he sure as hell planned to do it now.

Pulling his cock out of Zarra's mouth, Greg pointed it up and presented his balls to her. It didn't take her long to understand what he wanted her to do. Without reservation, the merchant's wife leaned forward and passionately kissed his balls. Greg turned his gaze to the man, a taunting smile on his face even as his wife sucked one of his balls into her mouth. Letting go of his cock, Greg let it fall on her face with a meaty smacking sound, allowing the merchant to see his precious wife's face marked as his own. On her part, Zarra took in a deep and audible inhale, luxuriating in the strong masculine scent that was coming off the boy... no, the man before him. Young as he may be, the mage didn't in any way fall short of her husband where it counted. If anything, he more than outshined him by a wide margin.

Greg didn't object when Zarra took him in her mouth once again. The first time she did so, she was content to shower the head of his cock with as much oral love as she could. This time, however, from the way her head was bobbing back and forth, she was clearly intent on getting him off. Perhaps in a bid to see how far she could go, Greg felt himself hit the back of her throat as the merchant's wife went particularly deep on one of her forward bobs. That she gagged a little didn't come as that much of a surprise to Greg. What he hadn't expected, was for the woman to wrap her hands around his waist and start to pull him towards her. With five inches in her mouth, there was still some four inches of cock before she got to the base, and from the strength with which she was pulling, the woman planned on forcing that remaining part into her throat.

Greg had to muster all of his will to keep his knees from going soft as a result of the pleasure when Zarra's throat bulged out with the head of his cock. She had succeeded in getting him past the back of her mouth and into her throat. From where he stood, the merchant could probably track the bulge caused by the head of Greg's dick as it traveled down Zarra's throat. Greg's toes were curling inside his shoes even as the woman's lips kissed the base of his cock, his cock snugly lodged in her tight throat. Greg thought that she would hold this position for a few seconds before she pulled herself free once more. When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, however, that thought disappeared. It was a silent understanding. No words had been passed between the two of them, and yet, Greg understood what it was she wanted from him.

Grabbing the back of her head, Greg slowly pulled back till only the head of his cock was left in her throat. With their eyes lost in each other's gazes, Greg forced himself all the way back down her throat. Greg carefully watched the woman's expression to see if he'd misunderstood what her eyes had been begging him to do. The look in the woman's eyes, however, hadn't changed in the least. Greg didn't understand it if he was being honest, but far be it from him to judge. Zarra clearly wasn't looking for a lover. Instead, she wanted the monster. She was looking for someone to fully take control of her and free her from all responsibility for what was happening. The only choice she wanted left to her was to lose herself in the depravity.

Zarra's face had gone red both from the strain and her severely impeded breathing. Every time Greg had tried to pull out and allow her some room to breathe, her hands which were still on his waist would just pull him in deeper. Losing all restraint and showing none of the mercy she didn't desire anyway, Greg started to pick up pace as he pistoned in and out of her tight throat with abandon. The pleasure was mounting and Greg couldn't keep from letting his eyes drift closed as he savored the overwhelming sensation he was experiencing. Even if he had a will of steel, Greg knew that it wouldn't be enough to allow him to stave off the orgasm that was fast approaching, about to crash over him like a tsunami.