"Mhmm~"
Adam's touch made her quiver and clench her teeth as she held back a moan.
She fought back the desire to give in, but why?
The realization, her current mindset and emotional state, made her ponder about her new life and way of thought.
The young, well for elf age, beautiful maiden of old had looked at relationships and intimacy with shyness and subtle, shameful curiosity.
Their culture one of elegance and purity, defining relationships as something done in silence and with composure; lest they disgrace their heritage with displays of public affection.
Yet now, her body had long surrendered even before her mind had.
Then, even when her mind had accepted, no, encouraged and desired this sensation and his actions, there was no mental wall or barrier that would have appeared if she were her old self.
She was making the conscious decision to deny him, but only because she knew that she should… but why should she?
That was where her dilemma lay.
Unlike Adam, she had lived a long and full life before falling. Meaning that she was able to logically view her change in mentality deeper than he could; seeing the change in her, yet finding that she couldn't muster any concern…
'A change in mentality, forged with my new physical body, no longer defined by my old self, my old will… carving a new fate with my own hands.'
Such a change only held positives now: driven by passion and emotions, guided by logic and cunning.
Such was the devil way.
Her only remaining qualms about the ordeal was the fact that she lost a fight against him; her petty nature wanting some form of revenge.
"Mhnng~" A moan escaped her lips and parted her thoughts.
Adam's fingers, rough and strong, found her swollen bud; stroking, probing, pinching, preparing her, leaving her panting and writhing beneath him.
A lock seemed to come loose within her mind as she moved her body into an arch off the bed.
"Please..." She gasped, the word meaning everything and nothing all at once.
A plea to stop.
A plea for more.
It only served to fuel his desire.
He positioned himself, his own rod hard and demanding more, still within her warmth. His eyes, burning with fire, locked onto her silver ones, which were wide open with a hint of shame and acceptance in her newfound desires; a need, a thirst building within her.
"This," He growled, his voice a low vibration she felt resonate in her bones, "Is what you were made for."
He drove deep into her in one single, powerful thrust.
"Ohhhh… mmmmhhh~"
Lyra felt that same ecstasy she had just experience moments ago, but there was less pain and more pleasure this time around. The pain was still there, but it was fleeting, quickly burned away by the shocking, overwhelming fullness, the friction, and the raw, physical heat of his body.
Adam didn't pause.
He drove in and out with wild intensity, each thrust a hammer strike driving her deeper into the hides, deeper into submission, sending shockwaves through her seductive body: her breast bouncing, her ass and thighs turning pink from the slapping force, her arms grabbing at anything to brace through the storm of pleasure.
The stone room filled with the sounds of their wanton debauchery: the slap of skin on skin, his heavy pants, and her ragged groans that slowly transformed into moans of unwilling pleasure.
From conquest and assault, to something akin to wild sex.
Seeing her become more 'accepting', he released her wrists, his hands instead gripping her hips, lifting her to meet his thrusts as he angled himself to go deeper, to touch a place inside her that made her see stars.
Her own hands, now freed, didn't push him away, they no longer fought back.
They clawed at his back, scoring new fresh lines over his bleeding, healing steaming cuts; her body arching to meet his as a willing participant in her own ruin, of her own damnation, of contamination.
He was everywhere.
In her, around her, as one in body and mind, no, in her mind.
His strong scent, the blood, and his every labored breath, filled her lungs. His growls vibrated through her chest as much as his brutal thrust. His hands grabbed her with possessiveness that lacked any tenderness; bruises being painted on her sweating body.
But the pain of her bruises and cuts were forgotten, replaced by a building, coiling tension that was more intense than any shadow magic she had ever wielded. She was falling, shattering, coming apart under his brutal assault: she was reaching her climax.
"Nhhhuhhuu~"
As the wave of her climax crashed over her, a silent screaming that wracked her entire body, she heard Adam's own roar of release.
She felt the hot flood of him deep inside her, threatening to tear a hole in her from the inside out. The heat and fullness, her insides being expanded, it made her tremble as her mouth failed to release a sound; her squinted eyes fluttering with ecstasy.
Their bodies trembled in unison, their grips and nails digging into one another.
After a short shudder, Adam collapsed atop her, his weight a final, crushing seal on her submission.
They lay there, slick with sweat and blood that mingled together. Their hearts hammering against each other's chests as their hair tangled with one another.
The fight was gone.
In its place was a devastating, terrifying emptiness… and the first, faint, insidious threads of a new, unbreakable bond.
He had taken her, and in doing so, he had begun to make her his, and he was going to engrave these emotions, this feeling, this domination, deep into her soul.
The mere thought was exciting…
His cock swelled again, much to the beauty's dismay.
'His lust was insatiable!' Lyra thought in a daze.
Alas, her mind short-circuited soon after as the brute had already begun his next round.
The heavy stone of the door did little to muffle the symphony of raw, animalistic passion erupting from within.
The wet, rhythmic slap of flesh meeting flesh, Lyra's sharp cries, a mix of pain and pleasure, transforming into whining moans, alongside Adam's low, continuous growl.
It was a relentless ritual that went on for hours, a testament to a devil claiming his prize with brutal thoroughness, and maybe some addictiveness?
The entire time, Agri couldn't tear herself away.
Pressed against the cold stone doorframe, one eye peeking through a slim crack.
She was shameless and desperately aroused.
Her hand was buried between her own legs, her fingers working her soaked cunt with the same rhythm that mirrored the pounding from inside the room. Her mind tried to replace the deviless who was receiving his 'favor' with herself.
A steady stream of her own fluids dripped down her inner thighs, forming a small, glistening puddle on the floor beneath her.
Each muffled cry from Lyra, each grunt from her master, sent another shuddering orgasm through her.
She was lost in it, her envy a distant second to the overwhelming need to partake in the debauchery, the power, of the sex happening just meters away.
A cold, logical part of her mind acknowledged the truth.
Her spot as the 'most favored' was gone.
Lyra was a devil.
Her prestige, her innate power, her very essence was on a different level.
Agri could never compete with that, but as long as she remained above Blair, above the prideful flame bitch who had looked down on her from the start, then her position was satisfactory.
That was enough... it had to be.
Beside her, Blair stood rigid, her back against the opposite wall.
She had tried to maintain her composure, to project an aura of disinterested pride, but it was a crumbling facade.
Her gaze flickered to the empty corridor, seeing that no other demon had arrived: not that any demon would dare interrupt their devil master in his 'activities'.
Her fists were clenched, her knuckles white.
The rampant, hours-long fucking was an agony of temptation. She could feel the heat building between her own legs, a desperate, aching emptiness. A thin, clear stream of her own craving liquids escaped her virgin cunt, tracing a hot path down her thigh.
Her master's words echoed in her mind, a teasing prohibition, '...your cunt was off limits...'
The command was absolute, but the need was unbearable.
Humiliation burned her cheeks as, she stealthily moved a hand behind her back, over the curve of her plump ass. Her fingers, trembling slightly as they found the tight, forbidden pucker of her anus.
With a silent breath of shame, she pushed a finger inside herself.
The pleasure was sharp, unaccustomed, and deeply degrading, but it was a release valve for the unbearable pressure. It was a poor substitute, a pathetic mimicry of the ravishing happening just beyond the door, but it was enough to barely satiate her desire.
Her desire to be used, to receive his seed, had only grown stronger, but she knew that the game had changed.
Earning their master's favor had just become a far more difficult, and demanding, contest.
Inside the room, the storm had finally subsided.
The air was thick with the musky, metallic scent of sex, sweat, and blood.
Lyra lay limply atop Adam's equally exhausted chest, her silver hair fanned out. Her body was a masterpiece of sex appeal.
Their bodies now adorned with more cuts and bruises than when they had first entered, but no expression of pain were on their faces. Only exhaustion and satisfaction flickered in their weary, half-closed eyes.
Adam held Lyra's beautiful and seductive figure tightly; his hand grabbing and pulling at her plump ass.
Too tired to fight back, yet wanting to retaliate somehow, she bit down on his toned chest. Her deceptively sharp canine teeth drawing blood as they went in slightly into his muscle.
"Pa!"
"Mhhmmm~"
Adam's slap on her ass sent a jolt of pain and pleasure, causing her to release her hold.
Her weary gaze drifted up towards his handsome face, his own gaze meeting hers.
"…"
She gaze up.
Her head rested once more on his chest, doing her best to ignore his increasingly invasive hands.
Adam smirked and pulled up on her perfect ass.
Lyra's cunt, used for hours, was gloriously, painfully stretched; a gaping, well used hole that lazily leaked Adam's potent, contaminating seed.
Thin rivulets of her virgin blood were mixed into the sticky pool that stained the dark hides beneath them.
The sight made Adam breathe in deeply; the satisfaction deep in his bones, into the recesses of his soul.
A type of pleasure that he knew that he would never get tried of.
A type of pleasure that he knew he could never get enough of…