Day 30:

I wish I had my own room.
My own pillow to shed these tears of anger.
Hate for my father who abandoned me.
Hate for the cruel labor I'm forced to do.
Hate for him. The devil who stole my first kiss.
And lately-hate for myself.
For desiring more of Tristan Bellman the second our lips met.

~ Samantha

In her twenty years of existing she have had a nice total of three suitors -- the last one lasting the longest. Never have she came across a man as presumptuous as Tristan Bellman.

No. All her suitors presented themselves in the way a gentleman would. They never acted unless she gave the word. But this man, he right out kissed her openly in front of everyone without a care in the world. Not only that, he made advances on her without her premission. He was rough all around, yet he intrigued Samantha.

She didn't see Tristan until later in the day. Apparently he and the other men had gone out on some raid against the kingdom. How she wished she could do something -- anything to help her people. Maybe father would buy me back if...

If only, she thought. If only she could find a way back without having to deal with the bandits that kept guard outside or the leader himself.

Why would her father sell her to a bunch of bandits when she didn't do anything wrong? Why would he sell her in the first place? She is his child -- his daughter. They had to be lying about that. They kidnapped her in hopes to turn her against her father. She knew it.

All day, she stood in that kitchen cooking. It was hot. With the heat from the stove and outside there was little wind blowing into the dang small window over the sink. Was this how the cooks back home worked? She hoped not because she couldn't wish this torture upon anyone. She decided that she would have to see once she returned home.

Chopping up vegetables was becoming something of a specialize for her. Placing one carrot onto the cutting broad the hard texture was no match for her cutting skills. Her first time learning to cut up vegetables had been slow and difficult that the cook here yelled constantly at her to get better or move faster. So when she finally mastered the art of cutting in just under a few weeks the cook grew jealous of her advancement and gave her more work to do. Thus leading to her having to cook the entire supper for those barbarous bunch.

She only saw the men a few times during the day. They were always off doing one thing or another. The woman and children she had come to watching them whenever she was finished with her chores. It was like Gracie said, she would be busy and would only have a little time to breath. Even now, she wondered what the little girl was up to.

All the old enough children were given different tasks to complete while the much younger children were allowed to play or stay near their mothers. Gracie was old enough to do chores such as gathering water.

Just as she was pouring the remaining vegetables into the pot, a hand pressed against my rum particularly squeezing there ever so slightly. A gasp of surprise slipped through her lips before she had a chance to stop herself. At the same time, a few veggies dropped to the floor.

"Mmm what a soft thing I found." His voice sung softly into her right ear. The hairs on the back of my neck rose with his closeness.

Disgusted by his alcoholic breath, she shove him back a few steps to her right grabbing the uncooked beef. With a knife in hand she started cutting the meat in chucks not giving him another thought. Not even five minutes into the cutting the sound of footsteps was heard. Engrossed in her work, she choose to ignore the movement hoping against all odds that the devil behind would leave.

"So mean." His hands wrapped themselves around both her wrists pinning my hands onto the counter surface in front of her. Heat immediately rushed to her face feeling his body close to hers. Moving her hands was a no go as he held them firmly in place.

"Move." Hoping her voice held an ounce of annoyance, she prayed he would simply leave her be. However a devil is never one to just leave his toy alone.

"Ignoring me," He muttered into her right ear causing unwanted shivers to run through her body. His voice low and alluring. "You won't be able to for long Princess."

She felt her body stiffened the instant his hand rested on her hip. His lips brushing so slightly against her outer lobe ear.

Her eyes drifted closed against the sweet slow torture. The knife slipped from  her hand chattering on the wooden counter. His lips planting a trail of kisses from her ear down the side of her neck. Her lips parted as she tilted her head further.

Father, help me break his alluring spell. The soft moan that leaves her was one that was caused thanks to his hard sucking at the base of her neck.

Ooo yes! I'm at his mercy the longer his mouth stayed on me. Then it hit  her. He had so skillfully found a sensitive spot of hers and was using it to get her stirred up.

She shoved him back as hard as she could. In the process, she grabbed the knife once more. Spinning on het feet she glared into an amused face. "Get away from me."

"In time my Princess-" Tristan purposely stepped closer to her despite the blade in her hand. His eyes held hers while he lean forward. "You'll fall for my touch." Leaning back he popped what looked like a cherry tomato into his mouth. Running he walked toward the entry.

Lowering the knife she ran a hand into her hair, sighing. Distance was her friend when it came to Tristan Bellman.