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“You could have been my bride of your own free will,” Ra’s said, “our heir fully legitimate.” To his credit, he did look somewhat regretful as he parted Brooke’s thighs. “You will come to love me in time, my Dark Lady, and see the wisdom in this.”
Brooke refused to look her so-called husband in the eye as he mounted her. Just another test to endure, like all the others. She didn’t make a sound when he pushed inside her, or let her heartbeat stir in response to his ever so gentle ministrations. She could fight pleasure if she had to, just as well as pain.
The metal that held her wrists and ankles down was heavier than any she’d ever known existed, and wasn’t even technically shackling her; they were beautiful, delicately carved bracelets, reminiscent of what Diana wore. (Diana would never have let herself be- no, no good would come from Brooke thinking that.) Ra’s had adorned her like a queen before taking her to bed, as if her restraints being magically blessed made them any less cruel. He wasn’t the Joker, crudely propositioning a vigilante to get a rise out of her, nor was he Carmine Falcone, graphically threatening a vulnerable heiress to bend her to his will; in his care, he was worse than either.
Brooke wouldn’t kiss him back, she wouldn’t spit and scream, she wouldn’t moan when he rode her to a forced climax. She told herself this, but when he caressed her and brushed strands of her dark hair away from her sweating forehead, she came as close to breaking as she could ever remember.
“Our child will do you proud,” he said, in delighted exhaustion. “And you will forgive me.”
Brooke spoke her first words since she had realized the inevitability of her rape, and it oddly comforted her to see them wound her captor.
“Liar.”
She closed her eyes and did not watch to see if Ra’s stayed beside her for long. She had to think, that would be her salvation. Brooke once again tried and failed to raise her wrists, and found that she would need help to do it. If she really was pregnant, she would have to escape while she still had time to decide what to do about it. Talia…the wizard’s daughter had watched her father lead his bride to the bedroom, and there had been something unhappy in her eyes. Guilt or jealousy?
Ra’s was going to keep fucking her until she gave him what he wanted. She would fuck Talia every day if that was what it took to get her help. Brooke’s sexual schedule was about to tax her stamina and sanity to the breaking point, and the thought was not entirely unpleasant. Upsetting, horrifying, shameful, but it was what it was.
Dreams of the demon king lulled her to sleep, and dreams of the demon princess broke through her rest. She’d had nightmares before, though. Brooke could survive these like she’d survived all the others.