☽ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ sʜᴀᴅᴏᴡs ☾ 【ɢʀᴇᴇɴᴛᴇᴀᴘᴏᴛ x ᴄʜᴇᴠᴀʟɪᴇʀ】

[Chevalier]

​

In the far regions of the known world exists a land where not even the sun dare tread. A land of infinite shadows, a thick veil of darkness and mist which submerges the land. The region is known to many simply as hell, but to the demons that reside there, it is known as Erebus. Here, the rules of the living do not apply, an amalgamation of depravity and deceit. It is a place where only the strong rule... and the weak are made to bow. But even the Land of Shadows must respect the light, for the Goddess has lay claim to the Demon Prince himself, Prince Aeron, demanding that he be wed to one of his ancient enemies to return the crystals that had been lost back to their respective kingdoms. Our story begins from the dark prince's throne room, a hall of dread and infinite cruelty, a place of -

PFFFFFFFFFFT!
​

A streak of crimson liquid surges through the air, splattering across the room and staining the dark, ebony tiles of the palace throne room. The demon lords that stand before their prince are dazed by the sudden horror that they had just witnessed, for the Demon Prince had... spit out his wine? The servant standing in front of the demon prince was now covered in the fluids, which ran down his face and uniform. "What do you mean, I can only sleep with one woman?!" He exclaims suddenly, a look of confusion and frustration stretched across his lively portrait. The demon prince had long, silver strands of hair and two horns that reached toward the ceiling. Even without the giant horns, he was very tall, though his height could be considered average among the demons of similar rank. His eyes glowed a vibrant crimson and his face was marred by a few scars that ran along the silhouette of his face, no doubt trophies from his many close stints with death.

"M-my Prince! It's a marriage. That means you're bound to--"

The Prince roared, tossing his glass of wine unceremoniously across the spacious room. The glass flew through the air, before colliding with a nearby demon and shattering upon impact. The demons were used to such outbursts, after all, he was the Prince of Lust and War. "But my harem!" He exclaimed, burying both of his hands into his hair in aggravation. "What about my harem?!" He began to scratch at his head violently, clearly not fully understanding the full weight of this marriage.

The demon prince's outburst was eventually interrupted by another entering the room. "My Prince, your betrothed has arrived. Are you ready to see her?"

What the fuck was a betrothed?! The demon prince slunk into his throne, waving his hand in the air. In all of his years of war and conquest, never had the demon prince ever felt so defeated."Do I have a choice? Send her in." He commanded, shooing the servants away. A few moments pass before a lithe silhouette enters the dark throne room, with flowing raven hair and sapphire gemstones that ran in direct contrast to Prince Aeron's own features. She would have been ravishingly alluring, if the demon prince hadn't noticed who she was immediately. He knew the woman's name well, for she was the one who had placed the scars upon Aeron's face... "Ianthe Reyyan," the mighty prince growls, curling his hands into fists. She was one of Aegis' crown jewels, a woman that he had clashed with many times in the past. "You have some nerve coming into my halls." He begins to step down from his throne, moving toward the woman standing in front of him.

As he approaches, he places his hand underneath the woman's chin, turning her head up towards him. "You're lucky that we aren't meeting under... different circumstances." He warns her, crimson kaleidoscopes focusing into a sharp glare.

 

[greenteapot]

Ianthe had found the whole thing a sick joke. The war they fought had raged on long before she was born and to have it resolved in marriage was absolutely pathetic. Only bloodshed could atone for the sins of the world but the Divine Goddess had something else entirely in mind. The only way to truly restore balance was to remake the broken crystals and the method? Copulation. Long before they roamed the earth, entities known as espers spent their time gliding through their lands. It was through their intricate dance that the crystals were brought to life and created the creatures in the present day. Humans, elves, demons, merfolk-- everyone would not exist if the esper did not dance.

In a nut shell, the life force of each kingdom were compatible with each other in its origin. They were interconnected by the esper and as such, the Divine Goddess knew exactly which strand of esper would be capable of creating esper children. Children born from the right esper strands would produce a missing esper crystal-- the crystal that were destroyed and caused the war in the first place. At first, Ianthe supported the creation of the stones. When she found out she would be half responsible making the stones, she was less happy, but still willing. It was only when she found out who exactly she would be making it with, that she reverted back to the demand for bloodshed.

The essence from Erebus and Aegis would create the Life Crystal. Great. What a joke. The only problem was that Ianthe could not stand anyone from Erebus, let alone the prince. They had met each other on the battle field many times and Ianthe could still feel the rush when her dagger dragged across that smug prince's face. He probably cared more about that baby face than he did anything else in the world and Ianthe had been the one to take it from him. It is one of Ianthe's most treasured moments from the war and now she had to marry and live and fuck and make a baby with the same person.

Prince Aeron was the bane of her existence and when her carriage emerged from the sea and his kingdom towered above her, it was all Ianthe could do to keep herself from jumping right back into the water. She had been wrestled into the carriage by her brother mere hours before. None of the merfolk were happy about the arrangement but there was nothing they could do against the Divine Goddess. The Eight Kingdoms could no longer keep up their war without completely destroying one another. Each kingdom was suffering more and more losses each year.

As the carriage rode up to the castle gates, Ianthe was not surprised to see that Prince Aeron hardly bothered to get up from his throne to greet her at the door. She hardly expected demons to have any manners after all. Scoffing, she crossed her legs, crossed her arms, and glared out the window. She wore her hair down in an intricate braid with her usual jewel ornaments cascading down obsidian locks. Gold chain necklaces scattered around her neck and hanged deeply down her chest and back. The merfolk were usually seen showing more skin than not but today Ianthe was seen in a form fitting backless dress with a deep plunging neckline. The royal blue material matched the jewels in her hair and her sleeves billowed out as she walked through the dark castle walls.

Golden heels halted for a moment before she was given permission to enter the palace throne room and she rolled her eyes before stomping in. Her small royal party stayed outside the doors and she entered with a flourish. A smirk played across her lips as she saw the look on Prince Aeron's face and she feigned an attempt to give him a courtesy bow... or curtsy or whatever he might have expected from her. "Prince. Aeron." Her words cut like daggers. She glared up at him and she smacked his hand from under her chin. "I would count myself unlucky under these circumstances, your highness.

"I assume this is equally upsetting for the both of us so I say we cut the cutesy act and just go our separate ways until we are absolutely needed, hm?" She could feel the gaze of the other upon her in the room and she stepped back from Aeron. "I can find my own way if we are done here?" They were supposed to get acquainted and talk about their plans and the future and hope and dreams and magically fall in love while being she was paraded around his kingdom but Ianthe wanted to get as far away from him as she could.

 

[Chevalier]

ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ ғᴇɴʀɪʀ
​

Crimson eyes narrowed as his hand was smacked away from the woman's face. Clearly, Ianthe had no intentions of ever becoming subservient to the demon prince, whom she no doubt loathed. Indeed, Erebus and Aegis had been at war longer than Fenrir had held the throne. The Merfolk and the Demons were enemies by birthright, ones that would not acquiesce their ways of life through a simple marriage. "Fine, be gone from my halls. I have no use for a woman devoid of respect." He waves the woman away, before making his way back to his throne. As Ianthe leaves the throne room, the human servants bow before their future Queen.

At the center of the group is a young woman with blonde hair and fair complexion. She is dressed in a black and white servant's uniform, with a golden necklace that matches her long hair draped around her neck. "This way, my Lady, we will show you to the bed chambers," one of the women explain, before turning about and beginning to navigate the dark halls of the palace. "My name is Mira. I've lived here for most of my life." She explains with a cheerful smile, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Lady Ianthe. Prince Fenrir has said many things about you." The servant decides that it's probably best not to get into details, though it was quite obvious they weren't exactly good things. "The Prince took me in when I was an orphan, you see. Bandits had killed my parents and I was going to be sold off to a brothel," she continues to speak as she leads Ianthe and her party onward, around the labyrinth that was the demon prince's palace. "Anyways, I'm sure you don't care too much for my life story. Here we are." Mira stops in front of a doorway.

"This is the Prince's bed chambers. Which are yours now as well, I suppose." She opens the door, revealing a spacious room fit for any King. There were many pieces of fine furniture scattered about, with a single bed in the center. Several doors surrounded the walls, no doubt leading to other various accommodations one would need. "The Prince has scheduled a meeting with the demon lords in a few hours. Your presence will be expected. I'll be sure to return then, but for now, I shall lead the rest of your party to their own rooms." She curtsies for her new Lady once again before departing. "I'll see you soon, Lady Ianthe." Once Ianthe's luggage and belongings have been carried into the room, Mira and the remainder of the royal party disappear from the room.

Several hours pass. The darkness from beyond the windows hasn't changed. The constant shadow that looms over the Kingdom could easily make one lose track of time, for it seems that Erebus is always shrouded under the night. Eventually a knock reverberates across the door. "Lady Ianthe. The Prince requires your presence at his assembly." The voice belongs to Mira, who waits patiently for Ianthe to open the door for her. "Are you ready to go?" She asks, waiting for her to deliver an affirmation before once again leading her through the halls. The pair move through the various hallways, down a flight of stairs and through another set of doors.

Eventually, the pair finds themselves inside a well-lit dining hall: a spacious room with many chairs, tables and even couches spread across the room. In the far end, a roaring fireplace illuminates the room. "So, this is the new Queen of Erebus." One of the demon lords speaks. He is a giant beast, nearly ten feet tall and broad shoulders that would make one wonder how he even fit into the room. Sitting in the couch with him are nearly a dozen women, all of which are eyeing Ianthe with curious gemstones. "She doesn't look like much."

"Perhaps. But then again, if she fought our Prince and lived, she must be quite something." A sultry voice echoes from the opposite corner. The woman speaking is the complete opposite from the lumbering beast that spoke first, but despite her lithe silhouette there existed a deadly aura about her nonetheless. Surrounding her are several men and some women, no doubt members of her own personal harem. "Or maybe our Prince has gotten soft," she chuckles. "What if I could do better? I'd love a chance to ravage our new Queen." The demon lord grins with fiery eyes.

"Enough. If you think you can best me, then you are welcome to try. Until then, you will heel, Lady Vella." The demon prince glances over toward Ianthe. "and you will sit by my side." He waits for Mira to run to the prince's side, pulling out a chair for the future Queen to sit in.

"So, Prince Fenrir. Now that the war is done, when will you show us your new harem?" The Lord grins, knowing just how to push Fenrir's buttons.

​

 

[greenteapot]

​

Ianthe huffed a breath and did nothing to hide her eye roll as she turned from the prissy demon prince and out into the hall. There, she was greeted by much more civilized people than the room she had just walked out of. "Yes, please." She gave a small smile to the servant and let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "It's nice to meet you, Mira. It's a lovely name." As she followed Mira, she tried to map out the palace's maze-like halls but found herself lost over and over again at every turn. How was she going to escape if she couldn't even find her way to her bedroom?

The castle was just a gloomy and dreary as she expected it to be and she missed the brilliant halls of Aegis. Mira seemed happy and content to live here, though. She had seemed happy while talking about the prince but... perhaps the girl didn't know what true happiness was. The prince had "taken" her at a young age and forced her into a different kind of slavery after all. Ianthe was feeling pessimistic at the moment. "No, please. I would love to hear more of your stories--- and even the prince's stories about me when we have a chance. Looks like I'll be stuck here for a while."

She laughed softly before she opened the door and peaked inside. "You're sure he wasn't generous enough to set aside a different bedroom for me?" It was indeed a room fit for a king. Someone could live here and never leave. There was perhaps so much space that you didn't know what to do with! Eyes wandering about the room, she scoffed as she stopped in the middle. It really was unsurprising that Fenrir would think this was acceptable. Such glutton for excess. It disgusted her. Mira soon said her good byes and Ianthe sighed as she was left alone in the room.

Looking over at her personal luggage, she frowned. Was this really happening? She always hope she'd wake up from this nightmare but seeing all her belongings there in such a foreign place, reality sunk in just a bit deeper. Prince Fenrir requested her presence at some meeting? Well, she was sure her mother packed her a beautiful dress to change into but Ianthe had other plans. She explored the room, checking for any trap doors and even scaling out a few windows. All the doors lead to different rooms where there were more doors and Ianthe frankly got tired of going room to room and finally just returned back to the main bed room.

Time just flew by when you were trying to plan an escape route and soon Mira was already back to fetch her. "So soon?" Ianthe huffed a breath and crossed her arms before she shook her head and gave Mira a smile. "I'm sorry -- I know I'm being difficult. Shall we go?" She knew that it wasn't Mira's fault but Ianthe couldn't help lashing out at everything in Erebus.

Soon they arrived at the hall and the moment she walked in, she was already under the microscopic lenses of the filthy generals. Disgusting beasts. "Hey, why don't you--!" Fenrir interrupted whatever retort she was going to spew at the scum generals and she watched as Mira scuttled over to pull out her chair. The room was quiet, expectant of her to comply, and she begrudgingly did.

Taking her place next to her prince, she frowned as she narrowed her eyes out to anyone who dared to scrutinize her. The boulder of a man from before was quick to make a remark and Ianthe shook her head. Was that supposed to bother her? Unaware of the inside joke, Ianthe turned to Fenrir and smiled at him. "Ah, yes. I suppose your harem is full of all your captured prizes from the war, hm? Are you excited to lay with them? Taste their virgin flesh? Enjoy your harem well, prince." She paused. "In fact, why don't you let me collect a few more for your pleasure? I know exactly your type." She wanted to let everyone know that she didn't care he had a harem. She encouraged it. Anything to preoccupy him from her.

 

[Chevalier]

​

Listening to the demon lords' unruliness was one thing, but hearing the passive aggressiveness seething from his betrothed was another thing entirely. Crimson eyes narrowed, glaring over toward the demon lord before ricocheting back toward Ianthe. "The Goddess demands that our marriage be a true one," he manages to remain somewhat diplomatic, though one could easily tell that he was in fact, fuming. "Which means that I will not be taking a harem." The declaration is met with a few snickers from the other demons... and even members from their respective concubines. For a demon prince to not have a harem was considered a significant flaw, something that the other demons would certainly come to despise him for. Marriage was seen as a weakness and for Fenrir, to become a demon king was something of a mark of shame rather than an honor.

"When you get bored of your new wife, you should let me have a turn with her," Lady Vella chuckles, brushing her dark locks from her face. "I love the ones with fiery personalities." She licks her lips, admiring the delectable, foreign beauty from afar. "Though I can't promise I'd return her in one piece."

"You try my patience, Lady Vella. Learn your place." The demon prince huffs. It isn't long until Fenrir rises from his seat, turning towards the door. "We are done for the day. The next one of you to challenge my authority will have made their last mistake," he threatens the lords before beckoning his betrothed to follow him. "Come," he glares at the woman, knowing full well that his commands meant nothing for the woman. If being with one demon was bad, then certainly sitting in a room full of them was even worse. Once Ianthe had finally followed him out of the room, Fenrir says nothing as he begins to walk through the halls of the palace.

They navigate the labyrinth once more, retracing Ianthe's steps back to the Prince's bedchambers. Though she had traversed such a path only a few minutes ago, the confusing halls of the palace would make the journey feel still foreign to any newcomer. Opening the door, the silver haired Prince waits for Ianthe to step inside before shutting it behind him. "Out of all of the damned people. Why you?" His words begin as a faint whisper, barely audible even in the silence. Before she could understand what was happening, Fenrir grabs Ianthe, slamming her backwards into the door. His powerful hands pin dainty wrists against the wall, giving Ianthe little possibility of escape. "Hate me all you want, but this is my palace," he snarls, faces gravitating dangerously close to one another. Scarlet kaleidoscopes meet sapphire gemstones, glares unwavering as neither set of eyes display any semblance of backing down.

"You will show me some respect in my halls. In front of my subjects." He declares, knowing full well that Ianthe would have no intentions of doing so. As his hands tighten their grip upon Ianthe's wrist, the demon prince emits a low, primal growl. "Go on, say something clever," he dares her, waiting for her to say something that he would surely make her regret.

​

 

[greenteapot]

​

"Is that so?" Ianthe couldn't help but snicker along with the other generals in the room. It was clear that Fenrir was absolutely distraught with the idea of no harem. For a savage such as himself, she was sure that it was the end of the world for him. She found it amusing and the reality of the fact that she would be taking the place of the harem was tucked into the corner of her mind. She would revel in whatever joy she could find within these walls while she could. If she was to spend the rest of her life here, surely she had to grow a sense of humor.

Lady Vella spoke up again and Ianthe transferred her disgust over to her. "Lay a finger on me and I'll end your life." The thought of laying with Fenrir made her skin crawl as it is. To think that she'd be passed around like a cheap whore among the demon generals made her see red. "Control your generals, Fenrir." Ianthe didn't bother with any formalities. "If you can't handle them then how could you possible think you could handle me?" She balled her hands into fists and she glared out at the crowd. She yearned for her sword. She wanted to slice every one of them into pieces.

Fenrir soon grew tired of being ridiculed and adjourned the meeting. His massive figure left her side and she met his glare with her own. As much as she wanted to defy him, it was true that being with one demon was better than a room full of them. Huffing a breath, she angrily rose from her seat and threw one last glare back at the generals before she left with their king. She tried to map out the halls again but again, it was impossible. She grew more frustrated by the minute and before she knew it, they were already back at his chambers.

Entering the spacious room, Ianthe sighed and turned to face Fenrir. He was going on about something and she couldn't quite hear. "What are you-- Ah!" Thrown against the door, Ianthe was caught off guard and she barely registered what was happening before she felt her wrists caught and pinned. "Hey! What are you doing! Let me... let me go!" Struggling against the strong grip, the only thing she could manage to do was twist her wrists weakly against his hands. Brilliant reds met cool blues and they held each other's gaze in a battle for dominance.

Pain pulsed from Fenrir's new tightened grip but Ianthe didn't let it show. She wouldn't. "Oh? Are you upset, my king?" She scoffed and pushed forward, held back only by his grip on her wrists. "Why should I respect you when you've done nothing to earn it? When your own subjects don't show it? You're a joke, Fenrir." A smile graced her lips. "You know that, right? You're nothing but a joke to them: a pathetic, spoiled prince that doesn't know where his place is. Why don't you stop acting like a pathetic child and come to your senses? You're embarrassing yourself."

 

[Chevalier]

​

The torrent of insults continued to barrage the already seething demon prince, only driving him further to the brink of rage. How dare she hurl such words freely within his own halls. Never had the demon prince felt so vulnerable, attacked on all sides by his own subjects and now... this. The time for words was over, it seemed that there was only one way to make Ianthe submit to him. The demon prince let out a deep growl, one of his hands tearing away from Ianthe's wrist and rushing over her mouth. Clasping his hand over her mouth, crimson eyes narrowed, his other hand tightening as his nails begin to dig into her wrist. "You talk far too much," he retorts finally, his hand pressing roughly up against his betrothed's lips, smothering any witty response she might conjure.

The hand then disappears from her portrait, moving upwards until his fingers were suddenly burying themselves into brunette strands of hair. "I suppose it's time to earn your respect, then," he growls once again, before pulling downward. Before Ianthe could realize what was happening, she was being pushed into the ground and onto her knees below him. They had fought many times before... and it was probably no surprise to Ianthe that Fenrir possessed quite extraordinary strength. Without a weapon, it would be difficult for her to overcome the demon prince in any sort of fight.

Without an ounce of mercy, Fenrir suddenly opens his palm, slapping Ianthe across the face before pinning her head back into the wall behind her. He then quickly takes up the space, until his waist was pushed dangerously close to her face. Even when she was standing, he towered above her, but there was something about her helpless position that drove the demon prince mad with an insatiable, primal lust. It was a sight that he had fantasized about ever since Ianthe had marked his face with her blade. "I'm sure you can use that mouth of yours for more productive things." His hands navigate down to the waistband of his pants, pulling them several inches downward until his betrothed was face to face with his erect length. As expected of a demon prince, his manhood was sizable, with a length that towered the length of Ianthe's face and a girth that looked that it might be quite painful to be on the receiving end of.

In Ianthe's surprise, Fenrir was able to firmly wrap two fingers around her nose, pinching down and blocking the air coming through. "Open it." He commanded, one hand gripping the roots of Ianthe's hair so that she wouldn't be able to pull away from him, the back of her head still pressing up against the door behind her. It was only a matter of time until her mouth would inevitably open to gasp for air. Almost as soon as her lips were parted, Fenrir was pressing himself inside her, his massive girth spreading his betrothed's mouth uncomfortably apart. He then thrust his waist forward until the first few inches are in her mouth, about a third of his entire length between her lips.

He knew exactly what Ianthe's first reaction would be, her prime defense mechanism. "Go ahead and try to bite it." He dares her. Though his flesh is soft like a human's, it does not tear or rend under the pressure of Ianthe's teeth. Indeed, it would take far more force to tear a demon's limb than what her mouth can reasonably exert. Ianthe would soon find that she would have better luck chewing through hardened leather... and she would hurt herself far more than the Prince.

It isn't long until the Prince moves his waist back and forth, the massive intrusion thrusting mercilessly into Ianthe's mouth. He moves slowly for the first few thrusts, but each thrust becomes stronger in force, pushing deeper and deeper between her lips. His massive member is soon penetrating the entrance of her throat, blocking the air in her lungs with each penetration. Each time, the Prince retracts to where Ianthe's lips are at the very tip of his cock, giving her mind several seconds to dread the next moments before suddenly thrusting once again into her with a growl, the force of the thrust pushing Ianthe into the door behind her.

 

[greenteapot]

​

Ianthe wanted to bite the hand that silenced her. How dare he!? What a coward! Any retort she threw out was silenced with the pressure from Fenrir's hand and she fought against his tightening grip on her wrists. She was sure he broke skin but that didn't matter right now. She was going to do everything in her power to win. "Ah!" The bastard tugged on her hair and before she could react, she was pushed onto her knees. "Let go of me, you coward!" Fenrir answered with a hard slap to her face. She cried out as she smacked against the door and she was painfully reminded of how much stronger Fenrir was. She had fought him many times but it had always been on her terms.

He was a smug bastard and Ianthe was suffocated by Fenrir's crotch. He had pinned her against the door and her fists pounded against thick legs. "Get off! Get off!" Fenrir was relentless and ignored her cries, pulling down his pants to reveal his massive cock. No. Weak men always took advantage of women. There was no way she would fall victim to him! She was too proud. She could never. Not with him. But she wasn't given a choice. Fenrir forced her to take it. She tried to hold her breath for as long as possible but she failed.

Once she gasped for air, her mouth was stuffed with the thick cock and she whimpered at the rough pain. She could hardly take him in her mouth and she could only imagine how painful it'd be for the next steps. She knew what was going to happen. Men and their stupid, stupid cocks. Ianthe took Fenrir's taunt in stride and she bite down hard on the cock he had stuffed in her mouth. Did he think this was the first penis she'd rip in half? ....It didn't budge and she glared at him as he gloated. How was this possible? Try as she might, his cock was resilient and soon he began to fuck her lips.

Choking on Fenrir's cock, she continued to pound against his thighs until his thrusting became harsher. "Mmf...! Nng..!" It hurt. He pushed in deep to her throat and she could feel herself gagging. Soon she had no choice but to cling to him. It was too painful and she just wanted to steady herself to lessen the pain. He was relentless and tears streamed down her cheeks as his cock pushed deep down her throat. There were times when he pulled out but it was only for a few seconds before he roughly pushed in once again. Her mouth and jaw ached. His cock was too big.

He used her roughly, her head banging against the bedroom door, but she kept her spirit. Her eyes glared up at him through tears and she moved her hands to his arm. She clawed at his flesh, raking and trying to peel any skin to harm him. When he cockily pulled his dick out to graze her lips, Ianthe quickly tugged her face away, pulling against his grip on her hair. She cried out as a few strands of hair ripped from her scalp but she forced herself to endure in order to escape. Gasping for breath, she coughed and tried to push Fenrir away. "That's enough, you pig!"

 

[Chevalier]

​

"Enough? Oh sweetheart..." Fenrir's grip around Ianthe's locks tightened, unphased by the woman's desperate attempts to break free from his powerful, ironclad grip. "I'm just getting started with you." He growled, before forcing the poor woman's mouth upon his throbbing shaft once again. He forced his strong manhood between the defenseless woman's lips, primal moans emanating from his lips as he could feel Ianthe's throat desperately struggle to accept the full length of his cock once more. Fenrir thrust his waist back and forth several more times, reveling in the despair that began to seep into Ianthe's sapphire gemstones. The pleasure of plush lips around his cock was one thing, but watching fear slowly slipping into the woman's mind was a pleasure he would struggle to find an equal to.

Eventually, Ianthe would manage to break free once again. But before she could say anything, the demon prince would deliver a disorienting slap across the face, gripping her hair once again before pulling her back to her feet. With a single, strong motion, he spun Ianthe in place, his strong hands groping at Ianthe's chest through her dress. "I don't think you'll need this anymore." He grinned, talons digging into the fabric as the demon began to tear the backless dress free from her body. He took little care in preserving the fabric, tearing it effortlessly as pieces of tattered garments fell onto the floor beneath them.

It wasn't long until the woman's sizable breasts were unburdened from the tight dress, Fenrir's hands roughly gripping the plush mounds of flesh between his hands. As his hands admired and explored Ianthe's chest, his lips began to assault the flank of her neck, kissing and biting down upon the perfect, glossy skin. "We're going to have so much fun together." He goaded softly, his voice set between a string of low growls. His hands soon found Ianthe's perky nipples, his strong digits grabbing and squeezing at the sensitive buttons as his teeth bit down upon the sides and back of Ianthe's exposed neck.

One of his hands eventually left Ianthe's chest, trailing downward across her body. He noticed that her struggling became more lively as his fingers navigated towards her legs, so the demon pressed his weight into her while simultaneously tightening his grip around her breast, giving her little hope of escape. His fingers made their way between Ianthe's delicious thighs, squeezing between to rub against her undergarments. "Mmm. You're quite wet down here, darling." Fenrir teased the defenseless Ianthe. Whether or not his words carried any truth to them, he knew they would fluster her, cause her to question her own body.

Both hands moved to grip Ianthe's thighs, forcefully spreading them apart despite her best efforts to prevent it. She would find the full length of that strong cock positioned between her thighs, the center of his shaft gently pressing up against her panties with the head emerging through the open space of her legs. "You might hate it now, but you're going to fall in love with this cock." Fenrir growled once more, his teeth biting at Ianthe's neck as he began to move his hips back and forth, his cock rubbing against her exposed undergarments.