“Flesh becomes you,” he grated out as he slammed his cock into her again and again. “Your blood is hot. I feel it all around me.”
She turned her head slightly at that. He saw her full, parted lips beneath a swath of pitch-black hair.
“You may drink it,” she said, sounding hopeful.
His cock lurched in her tight clasp.
“Silence,” he shouted, tempted more than he’d wanted by her offer. It would be dangerous, to drink demon-blood. “You are learning a lesson. This isn’t about your pleasure.”
He continued to fuck her relentlessly, using every ounce of his restraint to stretch the moment and not climax. When he finally heard the sound of her soft weeping, he held her hips and jerked her back against his cock at the same moment that he thrust forward with force, keeping his cock high and hard in her.
“Say the words, Shirian,” he barked.
“I, Shirian the Magnificent,” she began in a quavering voice, “called Great of Praises, Great Royal Wife, once Queen and Pharaoh of the kingdom of Egypt, submit to you…Aubrey Cane.”
He withdrew with a gasp, gritting his teeth in agony. He released his mental restraint. The boiling pressure in
his balls ignited. He exploded in a hot, glorious rush. He breathed deeply, striving to focus and calm his mind, even as he continued to ejaculate on Shirian’s reddened, smooth ass. He could not afford to lose himself in pleasure. Not with a demon.
By the time the shudders of orgasm had stopped racking his body, he was perfectly calm. He stepped away and reached for his clothing, quickly donning it. Given the wolf-characteristics conferred to him by Blaise, his cock was uncomfortably swollen in its post-climactic state. It’d been why he’d come outside of Shirian. The last thing he wanted was to be locked to a demon—vulnerable—after he’d only just forced her first submission.
“You may get up, Shirian,” he said quietly. He helped her to stand and shoved aside the ottoman. She immediately turned and faced him, one hand still maintaining contact with the crystal. Her beautiful face was wet with tears. Hatred and uncertainty blazed in her black eyes in equal measure.
“You said there would be pleasure if I submitted,” she spat. “You are a clumsy lover.”
He smiled. It would be a never-ending challenge to control her, but control her he would.
“I said there might be. You have much to learn in regard to submission. Besides, we both know that I wasn’t making love to you just now, Shirian. I was completing another step in my plan.”
Her nostrils flared. “That’s what I am? A step in your plan?”
He chuckled and stepped aside to retrieve a towel. “Yes. I need you in order to rule this underground kingdom. I need you to help me destroy Morshiel and kill Blaise.”
“No one can kill Blaise excerpt for Morshiel. No one can vanquish Morshiel, except for perhaps those bloody Magian bastards, and they don’t appear to be in any hurry to do it. Even if you contrive to give Morshiel victory over Blaise, Morshiel will still live.”
“So it would seem, given traditional logic,” he said as he approached her with the towel. “Let me dry you.”
“No. I will do it,” Shirian said, grabbing for the towel.
“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice ringing with power. Her submission earlier carried magical weight. She had no choice but to turn, presenting her backside to him.
“Fortunately, I think outside the box, Shirian. I do not bleat the weak logic that says Morshiel and Blaise cannot both be defeated because it has never been done before. I have searched for a way to make it happen, and thanks to recent events in Chicago, I now am ready to complete my plan.”
“But—”
“Quiet,” he commanded, when she started to turn. He pushed against her spine and she reluctantly presented her backside to him again. He resumed drying his abundant emissions from her bottom. “Just believe me when I say I have found a way to vanquish both of them. With your demon-power and my magic, we are going to see both Morshiel and Blaise conquered… right here…inside Sanctuary, in this very room. Will you look forward to seeing that?” he murmured as he urged her to turn.
Her face was a portrait of greed and malice combined.
“You can truly make it happen?” she whispered, awe spicing her tone.
He pushed on her shoulders, forcing her to her knees. He began to unfasten his pants again, removing his still painfully erect member. Her dark eyes went wide in panic, but he caught her chin when she tried to turn her head away. “I have made you submit, Shirian,” he said, pushing the crown of his cock between her lush lips. She recoiled, but he firmly pushed her head forward.
“Suck, demon. Make me come again.”
She was compelled to comply by the words, and he felt her vacuum him into her warm, wet depths. He watched her fellate him and smiled.
“Your submission is proof enough that I can make anything happen if I set my mind to it,” he said, before he closed his eyes and savored the pleasure of victory.