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Just some teasing; that's all this was. At least, that was what Ivan told himself before an animalistic rumble shredded through his chest from her grinding against that need. Sturring that gnawing hunger, he had been forcing himself to ignore for the past five days. But damn it, why was it so hard with this Zajka. No. It was a poor attempt to reason with himself as his fingers began to dig into her hips. She was no different. The same as every other woman he took to bed at night. This was just how his body naturally reacted, falling into that same repetitive pattern he did with all of them. That resolve crumbled as her tongue twisted with his again-- Why did she taste so damn good? Was it the cinnamon? Ivan hated the spice usually, always peppered over something way too sweet- but nothing was sweet about this. It burned, and gods damn it, he liked it. 
Her moan rang through his head, blurring the boundary Serge had forced on him as her fingers thawed through his icy grip on the back of Ivan's mind while they scratched a trail down his back. Hooking his fingers into her waistband, he issued a warning as he aided her body in another tantalizing roll against him. The added weight of his hands deepened the delicious friction as his fingers dipped in search of the oasis pooling between her legs. "Jack." His body went ridged at that name, halting his movements. Serge's claws firmly dug back into the base of his skull as that damned title slipped past her lips like a song. The tune was so alluring but in the wrong key. It wasn't his name, damn it.
 
Whatever she had whined about after, fell on deaf ears, his throbbing frustration drowning it out. Agitated that part of him would be more pleased with the title of dog than that false name linked to a child he no longer was. He hated her; he hated her, and this unbearable desire to hear the sound of his actual name dripped from her lips. Still, his tongue ran along her throat as if it could remove the bitter taste his childhood name left there. Then her hands were searing into his chest, forcing him back and away from her. Usually, Ivan couldn't care less if a woman tried to stop him after he had started- She kissed him first. That was enough consent for him to take as much as he wanted. Still, the leash around his throat tightened, warning him to let her go or this would crumble the... trust he was attempting to establish for information, but that didn't prevent his knuckles from turning white while Zahra peeled herself off him. 
His deadpan gaze was left to burrow into the wall until his struggle for control died. Part of him wished to yank her back down and take what he desired from her, the other warning him of the consequences of doing so. In a deep exhale, vapor pooled from his lips as he stood back to his full height and wiped at the condensation gathered around his mouth. Zahra's fumbling words drew his attention, and he saw her curled slightly, her back pressed against the wall, and she shivered out a scent. "Do we,-Do we just continue with practice then?"
A laugh nearly ripped from him, but Ivan managed to keep it locked in his throat, opting to roll his eyes instead. "Yes." His answer was plain, thoroughly unaffected by their heated moment together. It was easy enough to ignore it and shove her into the box with all the others. That was after he usually had at least some form of release. Continuing their training could be that for him. If his fingers couldn't be inside her, they might as well be curled into a fist that she had to dodge.  
Slowly, he made his way onto the mats and began eagerly pacing the white lines with long, even strides while waiting for Zajka to get herself in order and join him. It took far longer than he thought it should have, but he knew well enough to keep quiet. 

Once she finally stepped past the line, Ivan fell into his usual position. The need in his body melted beneath his bubbling frustration, bleeding into that tender eagerness to hit something. Still, he offered more kindness than Zahra deserved and leveled her with a warning look before swinging for her center. She managed to dodge, barely, his knuckles grazing her exposed side, right where his fingers had greedily dug into just minutes before. She attempted a countermove, but her swings were weak, center off balance, and obviously distracted. Not at all like they had been at the beginning of training or during previous days, for that matter. He landed five more hits before rising disappointment funneled through him; he dodged out of her most recent attempt and grasped her arm, yanking her off balance.

He watched for a second as she struggled to catch herself. The dissatisfaction that coiled in his stomach broke past his teeth in the form of a grunt as Ivan kicked his foot out to connect with her side. Preventing her from falling over completely. "Vat is vrong vith you?" He growled, dropping his hostile gaze down to stare at the woman in utter disbelief. Had he not done well enough distracting her? Was she still stuck in her memories? Or had he done too well? A smirk pulled at his lips as he stepped out of his stance and crossed his arms over his chest to loom over her. "Zajka... Vas zat, your first kiss?" Humor teased through his words for the first time as he looked over the sputtering flame before him. Waiting to gauge her reaction to the simple question. He could hardly remember what his first kiss was like; he had been so young- so drunk at the time. Now that he was forced to think about it, he wasn't sure who he had buried himself into the first time either. Maybe that was why all the women looked and acted the same to him now. But no one had ever stopped him, not like this one did.    


OOC:

♛ Location: Sparing room xxx ♛ Social contact: Zahra xxx ♛ Introspection: Tell me I stole your first kiss.
xxx ♛ Vestment: Shirtless as usual
ALL THE PLACES I'VE BEEN & THINGS I'VE SEEN
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t h e xxx f a c e s xxx o f xxx p e o p l e xxx i ' l l xxx n e v e r xxx s e e xxx a g a i n
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◢ A MILLION STORIES THAT MADE UP A MILLION SHATTERED DREAMS ✮ ◣
▿ ▼ ▿
AND I CAN'T SEEM TO FIND MY WAY HOME

There it was. He caught it—the moment his frigid words hit their mark. The demeaning comment had done it’s job in reminding her what type of person she trained with. A warrior, a killer, a betrayer, all things honed into one well-trained weapon. A Ded Morzo. The name would be a curse to her, even if she didn't know it yet… Though some sliver of him enjoyed this part. He liked being that vital breath of spiteful wind that stoked her flame. Ripping loose the blind hatred that her inexperienced one-track mind would dare to let fade beneath lust. Something this prince of Ice was quickly beginning to selfishly realize only he had the ability to do.

Electric shock rocked through his cheek at her palms searing contact. His head whipped to the side on impact, drawing out a low grumble that mixed with complicated pain and pleasure as it rumbled out of his throat. The sheer audacity of this woman had his knuckles cracking as he fought off the urge to retaliate with his own violence.

"عرص" Ivan's reactive thoughts stuttered at the insult he never expected from someone in such a high rank. Sure, maybe the lowly knights in her kingdom would spit out similar venom before falling beneath his blade, but none of them had such pretty lips drawing him in. His hand relaxed, reaching to press into the scorch mark burned into his face. He looked down to meet her heated gaze. Embarrassment littered the tanned hue of her skin, all while bubbling rage boiled behind the pointed look that attempted to shrink him. As though it ever could. He'd seen much worse than anything this pretty phoenix could offer him, but her unwavering ambition had another cocky smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

"Now wasted, at that." It was cute watching her lie through clenched teeth. Witnessing her unravel completely into a creature so feral it had him almost believing she could possibly find a home on the battlefield beside him. How long it would take to tame her? To rip open and spread her true nature bare for only him to witness. Scrubbing the hand at his cheek up the side of his face, he pushed the strands that had fallen loose from her assault out of his eyes before nonchalantly dropping it to meet the other as they crossed over his broad chest. He'd give her a treat for that response, more than ready to continue playing her game. No part of him was surprised to see her weight shift. The slight hop he'd offered undetected by his show of a feeble attempt to counter the 'wrong' move. Then he was beneath her again, the feeling of his back slamming into the mat a sensation he wasn't sure when he began craving. His hands dramatically splayed in front of him, two fingers curling to offer a come-and-get-me motion that only deepened when his darkened gaze met hers. " Vant more firsts already?" He cooed. Pushing the tease further in hopes of enticing another battle like before. But this time, he could get her beneath him.

Imagine Ivan's surprise when the flame he had worked so hard to stoke was replaced by a dead, hollow void that swallowed the life in her eyes. It countered the disgust that carved a line between her brows, an obvious mask cracking beneath the weight of some raging storm inside of her. By this time, he had seen her royal facade, undiluted anger, attraction, and embarrassment. But this was something raw—something he wasn't sure she had meant to show him. "I was right. This is the fun part for you." Somehow, that was more of an insult. The pain that thickly coated her words confused him. Unsure how teasing her first kiss could be seen as an act of treason for the small creature. If kissing was bad, she would surely burn if she knew where his lips had been this morning.

The movement of her jaw warned him what was coming next, but no serpent of desire coiled in his stomach this time. In fact, Ivan offered no reaction for her to read at all as she spit on him. Only leveling her with a cold, hard stare as she searched for a way to pull him down to her level. Unwilling to let her see the storm of confusion raging within his mind. Because the joke was on her, he had burrowed far beneath that line long ago.

A frustrated sigh pressed through his nose as his head dropped to the mat. Watching as she turned. "Wrong way." He thought as she halted in front of the wall. Catching her mistake. He should have laughed, it was humorous how much her brain shut down with overwhelming emotions. But that would hardly aid the difficult situation he found himself in. One hand dropped while the other scrubbed across his face, picking off the frozen spit. His gaze flicked to the side to watch her curl in on herself. Some part of him thankful not to have that pained expression boring into him. Allowing him the privacy to mull over the conflicting questions racing through his thoughts. What was his uncle doing to him? Why was he being cursed with this task and offered no clarifying purpose for it? How was watching someone’s life fade beneath his blade easier to swallow than the pained expression on her face?

If it was any other woman, any other situation, any other time, he would have killed her already. He would have struck her down while simultaneously ripping the air from her lungs for even daring to fight against him. But his uncle's damn rules prevented him from doing so, no matter how much it went against everything he’d been raised with. His job was to gather information, but he didn't know how to do that. One thing was certain: He needed to remedy this, to lessen the hatred in her eyes. The only sound that could be heard was his teeth grinding together as he settled on his plan. His fingers moved to curl around the treads of stagnant air in the room—using them to silence his movements as he pulled himself off the mats and stepped into her back in one fluid motion. Reaching around her, his fingers found their favored spot. Threading around her throat to keep her gaze locked forward. The grip, while stern, wouldn’t be hard enough to bruise her this time. Their intent was only to stop her from running.

The flushed, heated skin of her back pressed into his cool chest. Her comforting warmth somehow made this damning endeavor somewhat bearable. Dipping his head down, he quietly admitted against the shell of her ear. ” Is fun, vatching you break through Zajka.”

Loosening the hold he had on her throat, his fingers traced a slow line up and over her jaw. The pad of his thumb caught the pout of her bottom lip, halting its tremble as his pointer finger brushed against a tear that teetered on her lower lashes. Naturally, the droplet froze as it slipped onto his finger. The natural chill in his temperature worked to freeze the droplet, sharpening its edges as he held it in front of them. It only took seconds to hone the small bit of water into an intricate diamond. The small piece of personal ice glittered against the rays of light that filtered through the room so they could inspect it.

Rolling the razored diamond between his thumb and forefinger, he lowered his voice into a well-practiced, softer tone. One he often used when giving his torture victims hope that they might survive if they gave him what he wanted. “Vhere I’m from. Ve hide pain in rage Zajka.” It was partly an observation of what he had seen from her today. But an even smaller part of it was the truth. Rage was the thickest layer of the hardened glacier that coated his soul, but each layer beneath was pain. It was why he enjoyed the rigorous training. The sound of his heartbeat, the strain of his muscles, the burn in his chest. The training room was his only sacred place that could quiet the fridge screams in his mind when alcohol failed him. “So ven it become so much you vant to hurt something?” The diamond sliced the skin of his fingers as he crushed it into powder. “You can use me. I am the only person who can handle it.” He didn’t know how to word things correctly in their shared language, it could have been easily misunderstood.. but His words would hopefully be the first swing against the frozen boxes she locked herself behind. Hopefully, the barrier that kept her information from him would crack. So he would do it, he would be her punching bag. Her escape. As long as it got him one step closer to ending these encounters.

Because talking to her like this. Comforting her... It wasn’t supposed to be this easy.

OOC :

♛ Location: Training room xxx ♛ Social contact: Zajka xxx ♛ Introspection: words here xxx ♛ Vestment: Pictured
ALL THE PLACES I'VE BEEN & THINGS I'VE SEEN
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
t h e xxx f a c e s xxx o f xxx p e o p l e xxx i ' l l xxx n e v e r xxx s e e xxx a g a i n
▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰▰
◢ A MILLION STORIES THAT MADE UP A MILLION SHATTERED DREAMS ✮ ◣
▿ ▼ ▿
AND I CAN'T SEEM TO FIND MY WAY HOME

Damn it. "I can't believe it ******** worked."

Every fiber of his being hated to be proven right. At least in this case. The only way he could get this woman to speak was if he exposed some deeper part of himself. Krampus, all mighty, what a mess that would be. Forced to face his own demons while digging for information on hers. Part of him wondered if his uncle realized what sick game he was pushing him into. Knowing the type of sadistic man he was? It shouldn't have surprised Ivan. Though physical violence was his uncle's favored course of action, he had witnessed the twisted amusement wrinkle his uncle's face when in a mental battle.

The feel of her lips against his fingers brought him back. Her soft pout pressed against his thumb, catching him so off guard he didn't have time to care about the use of her healing flame. No, all he could think about now was how badly he wanted to slip it between her lips so his blood could brand a cold mark on her tongue. The primal need to claim her stirring back to life in moments, making it hard for him to focus on what she was saying. Ivan exhaled a slow, cooled breath that swirled down over her exposed shoulders as he honed his ears for the valuable information he could feed his Uncle.

" Women are adults at fifteen. We are kept in houses with the mothers and concubines, guarded and away from the men until our fathers choose a husband for us. We are not to even be seen by men outside of family until then. I got to watch three sisters come of age, leaving us behind before the accident. I wasn't old enough to get -"

The thickness in the words that filtered across his mind made him swallow, forcing him to pause and take a moment to absorb what she was explaining before they could pass by. Just as quickly, he found himself conflicted for two reasons. One, keeping women locked away seemed like a waste to the Funkazan kingdom. ******** Idiots. Two, Why was it such a damn good idea? A whole building of royal women separated from scum to be trained in being the proper dedicated wife? Good idea. So what went wrong with this one? Fighting to contain an eye roll at his internal admission, he made quick work to dismantle it. The girl was four years past age, and something as mindless as marriage was the only thing important to her. But that would never be on the table for him. Other than that one slip-up, that was nothing more than a distant, ******** up memory he buried beneath many, many visits to snowhoney houses. If they even existed, what was the real reason for marriage if someone wasn't the heir apparent?

Just as quickly, his train of thought jumped tracks, realizing how young fifteen actually was. Digging through his own blurred memories, he tried to pull up an image of someone around that age, maybe a sibling... But it had been so long since Ivan had seen any of the younger ones. The only faces crossing his memory were of slaves. Their hollowed cheeks and black frosted figures were hardly anything to look at around that age. Just skinny and brittle to the bone.. all they had was hard-working, young bodies that could fit through crevasses and dig further into the mines than the old, decrepit ones.

The sound of her swallow broke the silence in the room, louder than ice shattering beneath the weight of his blade. The realization that neither of them had been breathing settled against his mind. Confusing him further.

"-the talk, but I watched them enough to get it. Men do not like impure brides, and I am already four years past marriageable age."

It was a blessing to have her back pressed against him. Unsure of how well she could handle his hollow reaction to her vulnerable admission. More frustrated than anything that she was taking the time to explain why he couldn't just ******** her. Even if she wanted it, she needed to be pure—a stupid concept. The fist of his free hand balled at his side. His knuckles whitened as he fought the urge to throw her boundaries to the ground along with her. But Instead, the collar around his neck tightened another notch. Another rule. Gods, he hated rules.

Rage was a more manageable opponent for Ivan to face than the deeper reaction her vulnerability left him with. Like watered-down ink that washed over the icy casket he kept around himself. He could see it spiderwebbing across his vision of himself and his kingdom, staining the cracks and making them too visible for his liking.

Silence stretched between them, pressurizing the air in the room the same way the ozone shifted before a massive storm. A warning that if he didn't proceed with caution, weigh each movement, each step, each word. She would be lost to him, and his uncle would crack the too-thin foundation he stood on.

Ivan caught her fingers in his palm, offering a gentle squeeze as he bent down and pressed his mouth above her ear. " Alright Zajka. I see you tomorrow for proper training." His low voice spoke the sweetened words against her temple. It was a small acceptance of her rules and damning boundaries only so he could continue this dangerous trek into the storm on too-thin ice.

This time. Ivan left first, eager to wash the ink from his skin before meeting with his uncle.


OOC : AND SCENE