Author's Note: I have updated this prologue, so be sure to reread if you have already read this beginning. The events are the same, but the summary has been slightly adjusted to reflect more clearly the story.

This story is a off-shot prequel to a private novel I have just finished: Kirlaskia. Reading Kirlaskia is not necessary to understand this story, but I still wished to mention it for those of you who are familiar with my Kirlaskia novel. As there will be references and otherwise to some of the characters within it, as well as reference to Kirlaskia itself.

Summary: Princess Byness is plagued by denied pleasure from a mysterious man who knows the interweaving of the castles secret tunnels all too well. Loathing herself for following the man's demanding orders, Byness soon learns why it is bad to trust strange men in the dark of night...

Her daughter Cesselie soon learns memories belonging to her missing mother are best kept hidden for a reason. When secrets unveil from her memory finding exploration... What else can she do when they bring more questions than answers and possible death for her and her wayward brother?

Warning(s): Very Sexual Situations, Adult Language, slavery, abuse, rape, insanity, etc. ENJOY!

Illicit Intentions

Chapter One

Amethyst eyes shot open and the irises pulsed; trying desperately to focus on the surroundings. Sweat glistened Cesselie's face and she struggled to sit up in the thick fabrics of dusty quilts. "What was I thinking?" A slender hand rose to the young woman's face and she rubbed at her aching orbs. "That was disgusting."

Pressing her pale lips together, she brushed back the blue and crimson hanging loosely in her face. Do I really want to see my mother's memories? Her eyes closed for a moment and she looked across the attic at the empty bed. Does it matter why Mother sent brother and I away?

Cesselie winced as a throb tore across the front of her forehead. Knowing it would not cease, she reached for the vial on the black lacquered nightstand. The mixture of fluorescent pink was less inviting now that she knew what it tasted like. Why did that man call her Princess? Cesselie struggled with the cork and pondered the new information. Was she really? Or was the man just... flattering her?

Impulsively a snort echoed and Cesselie shook her head. No. That man did not flatter, not like that anyway. "It's ridiculous," she muttered, sliding her legs over the side of the bed and dropping them against the cold wood floor. "My mother was an epicure servant, not part of some Royal Family." Pressing the vial to her lips, she closed her eyes and launched it back. The contents slide out like gel and she sucked on the glass rim to get the remaining contents. Every drop helped ease the pain of infiltrating the memories of direct lineage. It was a painful process that no one recommended and few could successfully do.

A knock sounded and Cesselie dropped the vial. Hurriedly, she kicked the glass beneath the bed and another knock sounded, heavier than the last. "Come in!" The two large doors forced open and Cesselie jerked her robe around herself, tying the sash as Morve - the owner of the Ziol Tavern - gawked at her.

"Where is that pathetic sack of bones you call brother?" Morve demanded, jerking a hand through his amber hair and stepping towards the twenty year old borderer. Though close to his three hundredth year, the man had kept fairly unscarred through his easy led life - Planet Vorge had always been a passing ground in space and taverns were easily patronized, even in the slums. Like others his age, he looked the same as he did in his forties.

Cesselie darted her eyes about, looking for something to distract the easily angered man. A sense of fear built as he continued towards her, stopping only once he was close enough for breath to be felt. "W-what do you mean?" The aching in her head started to fade, but a dread built in her stomach. Something the potion would do little to help.

Morve's nostrils flared and he reached a hand out to settle on the woman's shoulder. She was shorter than him, but only by a few inches and her breasts looked phenomenal from where he stood. The two swells were easily exposed from the tattered robe - too small for a full grown woman.

"I'll get dressed and take over for him," Cesselie hurriedly spoke, hoping to side track the man. The calloused hand came to her robe, untying the sash in one easy motion. A gasp left her mouth before she could stop it and she pulled her lower lip beneath her two front teeth. Her body felt weak and unstable and again she reminded herself how foolish she was to try and see things that were not her life. She should have known her brother wouldn't show up to work again.

"Bend over the bed," Morve ordered, his mouth dry as he reached down to undo the bindings at his waist.

"What about the tavern?" Cesselie reminded, stalling.

The dark copper eyes flashed in annoyance and Morve paused from his exposure, to push her to the bed. His hand splayed against her lower back and he leaned down. "Do not think I will fall for such an excuse again. You had your escape yesterday. Now be a good whore and quit talking," he growled, straightening his back and pulling the belt from the loops in his leather clothing.

"You like this, don't you?" Morve hotly spoke, pushing the tattered nightgown and robe up her thighs and letting it bunch around her waist. His eyes stared at the inviting wet slit that made his cock ache. With a hard swallow, he pushed the folded belt in his hands between her legs and rubbed it along the arch. His other hand reached down to release the tight clothing from his groin and he wrapped his long fingers around the hardened shaft.

Again, the belt caressed her and Cesselie closed her eyes tight. She knew what would come next. Fear gripped her as the leather slid away and a light breezed cooled her exposed body.

Thwack!

Cesselie bit the quilt and clenched her fists around it. The belt struck her again and the sound of him panting sent a wave of twisting cramps to her stomach. She wanted to run, fight, anything... but he was too fast, too strong and smarter than her. He wasn't an idiot, even if he played the asshole.

Thwack!

A muffled cry left her and Cesselie felt the hot tears spill. The cool air came again, stinging her reddened ass and then he was behind her.

"That's it!" Morve grunted and pressed his cock against her entrance. His hands groped her reddened cheeks and he stood there enjoying the feeling of throbbing against her and the knowledge he would soon be sinking into the woman he had once purchased for her virginity. She was as tight as she had been those three years ago.

Another cry left Cesselie, less muffled than before and those hands moved to her hips. They gripped and his body slammed forward, jerking her against the covers as he impaled the long cock. Retreating and doing the same in short, purposeful strokes.

Dissolving into tears, Cesselie barely felt the owner of the Ziol Tavern finish and pull away. Her legs trembled and if it weren't for the bed under her, she was almost certain she would have fallen to the floor.

Morve took a sharp breath and wiped himself off with the fabric of her nightgown. His eyes looked to her face, hidden behind the strands of blue and crimson, though he could hear her crying. A frown of annoyance crossed his countenance and he curled his lips down in disgust. Crying during was acceptable, but after it was simply annoying. "Pack your things and get out. I've had enough of you and your brothers uselessness around here."

Cesselie snapped her head up from the covers. "Master Morve!"

The man's nostrils flared and he began securing his pants back in place. "You have an hour," he snapped.

"Please!" Cesselie gasped, choking on her tears as she moved shakily from the bed. "I'll do anything!"

Morve snorted and looked down his nose at her. "You've already done all that is useful of you."

"I'll join your bed every night," Cesselie tried, hurriedly wiping at the tears on her cheeks. It was common knowledge he hated them. "Anything. We've nowhere else to go," she managed to force out, her voice scratchy from the crying.

A noncommittal noise left Morve and he turned, heading towards the door.

Cesselie's eyes widened as he stopped and held open the exit, rather than passing through.

"Out, now," Morve ordered. "I've had enough of your pathetic rambling."

"My things!" Cesselie hastily spoke. "You said I had an hour--"

"I changed my mind," Morve growled and narrowed his eyes. "Get out of here now before I call guards to assist."

The woman's eyes flashed and she darted forward. Cesselie's body slammed against another's and her eyes looked up, wild and glossy at the familiar man she had run into. Her brother, it was obvious he had heard, but he looked as stoic as always. "He's kicking us out!" She cried out.

"Don't expect me to tell you again," Morve repeated, his eyes flicking to the taller man with broad shoulders. The cold eyes of amethyst struck a sense of unease in him and always had. Though he briefly wondered if it was from the double pointed eyebrows of burgundy instead. The brother of that wench was the only reason he hadn't kicked the lousy pair out sooner or reprimanded him instead of her for not showing up to work. "I see you finally decided to show up," he commented icily. "Good, then I won't have to repeat it again. Both of you out!"

Cesselie trembled as her brother looked down at her coldly. She knew what he would say before he even said it. What he always said when they were kicked from every place.

"You're becoming a burden," he placidly spoke.

Tears coated the woman's eyes again, swelling anew. Her head dropped down to try and hide from the uncaring stare. "Please forgive me, Zynane." Cesselie blinked back the tears and bolted. Out the door and out of the Ziol Tavern... to the unforgiving town of Otellect she had grown to fear.

~*~

Morve frowned. "I already paid you for her," the owner of Ziol snapped. Starting to feel uncomfortable with the stare of the man who remained before him: silent and unwavering. "Get out."

Zynane's lips twitched and he settled his hands on items beneath his black cloak. "I will," he began and unsheathed his swords. "Once I am through with you."

The blades came forward.

~*~

Cesselie looked back to the Ziol Tavern. She hadn't gotten far before she realized Zynane had not followed her. The darkness from the fading sun had sent her back to the outer wall; raindrops dampening her thin remains of clothing. Something icy gripped her heart and she knew what had happened when the screams began to echo within the bar.

A fear clenched Cesselie's heart and she wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the side of the business with a pallid face. Brother has done it again...

To Be Continued...

Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed chapter one. I am curious to see what input I get from this story, so as to judge whether to further writing out the minor details of the plot. Be sure to review!