Chapter 12 #6
His chest pressed against her back against her wings, his weight pinning her forward. She felt the force and pressure of him, the solid, unyielding mass of his muscular body covering her. One of his hands remained on her hip, holding her steady. The other braced against the bench beside her head.
His thrusts were not gentle. They were deliberate and powerful, driving into her depths. Each one was a claiming, a branding. The wet, hot slap of their joining echoed in the chamber, a rhythmic counterpoint to her choked cries.
“You are being so good to me now, demon girl,” he growled, his breath hot against the side of her neck.
She sighed, a long, shuddering exhalation of pleasure. As she met his thrusts with her own movements, pushing back against him, grinding her hips to take him even deeper. Her body was learning the rhythm, matching his force with her own desperate hunger.
“Mmmph, oh fuck… I told you that… I’d be a good girl,” she managed, her voice broken by each impact.
Ulric was smiling. A real, fierce smile that softened the harsh lines of his face. He kissed her shoulder, a rough, appreciative press of lips against her glowing skin.
“You’re a dream.”
His thrusts deepened, angled, seeking. He found a spot inside her that made her entire body jolt. A sharp, gasping cry tore from her lips. Her inner muscles fluttered wildly around him, a frantic, pleasured pulse.
“Mmmph, I want to be yours…” she begged, the words barely coherent.
He did.
He increased his pace, a relentless, pounding rhythm that drove her higher, pushed her closer to another edge. His hand on her hip gripped harder, guiding her, controlling the angle. He was fucking her with a single-minded intensity, every thrust a declaration.
She was losing herself. Her moans became continuous, a stream of sound that flowed with his movements. Her hands scrabbled against the pillows, seeking anchor.
He could feel her tightening around him, the coil winding impossibly tight.
Her breath came in short, sharp pants.
She was close.
So close.
His mouth near her ear.
“Like I said… perfection. My perfection.”
The words, the tone, the sheer dominance of it—it shattered her.
Her climax erupted.
A violent, vocal surrender.
She screamed, her body arching against him, her back bowing as her inner muscles convulsed in a series of rapid, crushing spasms. Another gush of hot fluid flooded around his thrusting cock, mixing with their sweat, making the slide even slicker, even hotter.
He didn’t stop.
He rode her through it, his thrusts becoming harder.
Deeper.
He was a beast, claiming his prize.
Grunts tore from his throat, matching her dying cries. He could feel it building, a wave of pleasure gathering at the base of his spine, fed by her wet, clutching heat.
“I’m—”
She just moaned, a long, satisfied sound, and clenched around him even tighter, milking him, pulling him deeper into her climax.
He broke.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself as deep as he could.
His release was a torrent, a flood that erupted inside her. He held her tightly, his arms wrapping around her waist, pinning her to him as he pulsed.
For a long moment, they stayed like that, locked together, both trembling, both breathing in ragged, shattered harmony. He was still inside her, still feeling the aftershocks of her climax twitching around his sensitive flesh.
Slowly, carefully, he pulled out.
The sound was wet, intimate.
She gasped softly at the loss.
He turned her gently in his arms, pulling her against his chest. She relaxed into him, limp with exhaustion, her head resting against his shoulder, her body spent but content.
His large hands moved slowly along her back, soothing, grounding, while his own breathing gradually steadied.
Her silver eyes remained closed.
“What about you? I know nothing about your past… demon girl,” he whispered softly.
A small, blissful smile touched her lips.
? ? ?
He woke slowly.
Finally.
The last few days had been a blur.
Pain.
Voices.
Fragments of memory.
He looked around.
A cave.
Dry.
Cozy.
Then he remembered.
Lirith.
Ulric.
He pushed himself up carefully.
Weak.
Not in body, not entirely.
But in spirit.
Fragile.
Still… he was conscious.
That alone felt like a victory.
He swung his legs off the bed and stood, steadying himself for a moment before moving.
Leftovers sat on a nearby table.
He ate quietly.
Drank some watered wine.
Then—
He saw his reflection in a polished metal plate.
He frowned.
It looked as if a mad barber had attacked him mid-sleep.
Uneven beard.
Hair hacked at different lengths.
He sighed.
Then found a blade.
Slowly, carefully, he shaved his beard. Cleaned the edges. Evened the jawline.
Then the hair.
Shorter on the sides.
The top left longer.
Rough.
But presentable.
He washed his face.
Ran a hand through his hair.
Order restored.
Then he found a small pot still warm by the coals.
Morning brew.
Bitter.
Rich.
Exactly what he needed.
He took a sip.
Succubi really did know how to invigorate a groggy man.
Cup in hand, he walked quietly deeper into the cave.
Then he stopped.
Ulric and Lirith were asleep beneath one blanket.
She was draped over him.
Leg across his waist.
One hand resting on his chest.
Ulric’s arm wrapped around her instinctively, even in sleep.
Aldric smiled.
Ulric’s eyes opened.
Immediately alert.
They softened as he saw Aldric.
Aldric lifted his cup.
Then pointed toward the cave entrance.
An invitation.
He stepped outside.
The wasteland stretched endlessly before him.
Dawn was breaking.
Soft hues of amber and pale crimson spread across the dry land, the light catching on distant dunes and jagged rock formations. The Demon Wastes at dawn were always eerie… and yet beautiful.
Quiet.
Still.
Moments later, Ulric joined him.
Aldric raised his fist.
Ulric bumped it.
No words.
They stood side by side, sipping in silence, overlooking the desert wasteland stretching endlessly before them. Dry winds moved across the dunes, carrying warmth and dust.
After a while, Aldric chuckled.
Ulric glanced at him.
“Yes?”
Aldric smirked.
“What was that you said before? A demon whore? Over your dead body?”
Ulric stared ahead, expression unreadable.
A slow breath.
He sighed.
Took another sip.
“Gods… I was such a tool.”
They both laughed.
The sound carried across the empty land.
When the laughter faded, Ulric looked at Aldric and handed him the cup.
“How are you holding up?”
Aldric took a sip.
“I’ve been better. I feel… strange. Fragile in my spirit. But I guess that’s not surprising. We’ve been through quite a bit.”
Ulric nodded.
Quiet settled again.
Then—
Movement behind them.
Noise from inside the lair.
Aldric glanced over his shoulder.
“Everything good?”
Ulric sighed.
But there was a smile tugging at his lips.
“I’m fucked, brother. This girl is amazing.”
Aldric laughed.
“Told you.”
Ulric shook his head slightly.
“But—What am I supposed to do with her?”
Aldric chuckled again.
“Just see how things go.” He paused, taking another sip. “And don’t make plans. It never works with succubi. They change their minds last minute. They thrive on drama.”
Ulric opened his mouth to respond—
But Aldric never heard it.
Fast footsteps behind them.
Lirith rushed out.
Her lips trembling.
Silver eyes wide.
She handed Aldric a scroll.
The seal was broken.
He opened it.
The words were brief.
Nerathys is under attack.
Every demon and branded is called in for defense.
Unknown foe.