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A Devil in Your Heart [Prince & Story]

Even without the aid of his demon powers, Damon could see the hungry curiosity in her eyes, tempered by nervousness and of course some fear as she struggled with these new urges. It was delicious, and his own lust was growing in response. This wasn't the cool and aloof woman, tightly wound and in control of her emotions, that he knew, but almost a different person entirely. Perhaps some of her Order training had faded tonight, and her true personality, long repressed, was shining through. Yet, she was still so innocent, he could tell, and she didn't even realize the danger of her situation, or at least the perilous line he was being forced to walk as his base instincts craved for him to seduce her.

"It will hurt, yes," Damon murmured back, his mouth darting down for small teasing kisses of her lips. His eyes were almost mournful, full of need. "The lust becomes painful for me if not relieved, an ache that will not stop as my body hungers for pleasure."

It wasn't complete bullshit, as he did get massive blue balls, but he needed something tonight, even if it meant finishing himself off as she watched him. Fuck, he was horny.

"I want to touch you," he said, brushing his cheek against her hair as she nestled her face against his shoulder.

His free hand began a slow, and very teasing exploration of her body. He started at her face, lightly stroking her cheek, and then continued down her neck, lingering on her pulsing throat. She was nervous, and excited, and Damon wondered how far he could go with her tonight. She wanted more, that he could tell, but just how much? And would he get enough back in return. The fingers went down her breast bone, between her mounds, and then his fingertips were orbiting one of her breasts, outlining that soft, smooth flesh in a slow circle that tightened with ever loop. Slowly, inexorably, he was tracing one of her dusky areola. He seized her nipple at last, rolling it between a thumb and finger as he teased it to its full potential.

"I won't take your virginity, I swear," he said as he squeezed her nipple in his fingers. "But, help me... explore my body as well... touch me like I do you."

His hand was already moving, fluttering over her stomach in a mix of touches and strokes, feeling her smooth flanks and toying in her navel, but as meandering as its path was as he had to avoid his own throbbing cock, his fingers were headed inexorably downwards. Lower and lower he inched, until he was ruffling the thatch of curly hair that guarded her womanhood. He wanted so badly to crest that last hill and delve between her thighs, to plunge into her heat and feel her wetness around at least one of his appendages. His cock was straining, desperate for attention.

"Let me give you pleasure... I only ask the same back from you."
 
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Ofélia knew that she was not being coherent with her thoughts. She was only halfway between giving in and being rebellious, with that old fear curling itself up inside her that if she went through with it, she would be punished. That she would cast away everything that she had ever believed in and for… what?

For all she knew, this was still a trick. A trap to keep her vulnerable and for him to be able to corrupt her. The twisting logic made sense, but so did the scars on her back, the phantom pain where her wings used to be.

The young woman made a choked sound in the back of her throat and lifted her head back up to look him in the eye, her eyes intense; dark streaked with that odd glow that seemed to cascade over the iris. Jaw set, she stilled the trembling of her fingers and lifted both her hands to cup the sides of his face. This time, it was she that lured him down for a kiss, her lips pressing hard against his mouth as her body shimmied close until she felt the throb of his cock dig into the underbelly of her navel.

“No tricks,” she demanded, dragging her mouth back from its hard press against his, eyes opening to study his. “No deceitful dreams.” It had not hurt in her dream, but here things were more tangible, and her expectations were as such. Surely, it would not be as painful as anything else.

Only she had gone rigid in his grasp, her entire form tense as his fingers lifted to stroke her hot cheek, waiting with a different kind of anticipation than she had before as his hand wandered lower until her pulse jumped to meet his fingertips and she steeled herself against what was to come.

She bit back a gasp as his hand trailed, lazy, along the edge of her bare breast so that her skin tightened and the dark nipple perked, only to tighten to a tip as his fingers pulled. It was not pain, but a wash of shock and sensation that shuddered through her hard enough to rock her body forward into his fingertips. The nipple that he toyed with throbbed, and with a look mixed with both shock and desire, she pulled against his face again and moaned against his mouth and rocked forward again, feeling the slide of his erection against her skin.

“This is…” she gasped, rocking away again as his fingers started their descent again, her skin jerking, shivering as he teased lower until she felt the tips of his fingers where the patch of hair met her tightly closed thighs, as if squeezing them closed could rid her of the heat that flooded at the crux, wettening her most intimate area. There was the pulsing, too, a deep ache like a craving that the rub of her thighs only worsened instead of alleviated.

Reluctant, her eyes wild, she pried her limbs apart and forced herself to ease back. Her teeth hooked over her lower lip, dragging it between her teeth so that she bit down when her own hand plunged down. Rather than his tormenting caress down the length of her body, her own touch was a mindless seize of bravery as her fingers curled around his length and guided its tip between her thighs, pushing the head of him right up against the damp opening of her sex.

“Do it,” she uttered. “Just do it. I want to know, even if it does hurt, why my chastity has been a concern.” Her hand eased off him, body tensing as she waited.
 
Damon's heart hammered in his chest. He'd fucked so many women over the years, hundreds, maybe over a thousand, and while he never grew sick of it, no matter who they were or what they looked like, tonight was strangely different. Most notably, he had no magical influence over Ofélia, so her shocking desire for him was all her own. But even odder, earlier tonight he'd decided to not fuck the naked and beautiful woman who was pressed so deliciously against him. When had he ever made that kind of decision before?

She wanted him. He could tell that now with just his eyes, ears, and even nose as a familiar scent reached his nostrils. But why did she want him, and why did he care?

"Ofélia... we must be careful... I don't know if I can resist..."

Her touch on Damon's desperately aroused cock felt electric, and he gasped in surprise as she grasped it firmly and held him to her sex. As soon as she let go of his rod, he gripped it himself and adjusted the angle with practiced ease. His swollen tip, throbbing with eagerness and dripping with pre-cum, nuzzled into her lips, pushing among her folds as they stretched to embrace him in a slurpy kiss. She felt so hot and slippery, a warm and inviting pocket of pure bliss that held his crown so tight and seemed to want to suck the rest of his length inside.

"Fire and ashes... you feel so good," Damon moaned the words out, then closed his eyes for a long second to focus on the pleasure he felt spreading from the end of his dick.

When he looked at her again, Ofélia's eyes were wild, almost frenzied. Yet, there was also a steely determination in them and her body was tense, as if prepared for some dread act. The nervous, almost scared, woman from minutes earlier who had gasped and trembled at his touch was gone. It was almost as if the Ofélia he knew as his captor was back, aloof and guarded, and her actions hinted that his cock was a punishment she sought to inflict upon herself to prove she was not scared, or somehow weak. Did she view sex with him as another penance, akin to the many that the Order had already given her?

Had she somehow decided that pain and suffering made her stronger, better, and harder, and her lust was just another weakness she must overcome?

"Are you sure... you want this?" he asked, panting slightly. The chill was gone from the night and his body was hot, almost sweating now with arousal and desire.

There was a resistance he felt from her body as he balanced at the top of her passage, his cock teetering just a hip thrust away from entering her. She was a virgin, and that tight hole, likely still protected, pushed back against him. How we wanted so badly to slide into her, to burst through her barrier and stretch her out, but that subtle resistance reminded him how painful it would be for her this first time. As much as his prick longed to feel her tight walls clench and squeeze around it, he knew she'd feel the pain of his breach and the agonizing stretch of her core around a large cock that was hard to handle for even a well-worn slut.

This was all wrong.

As crazy as that thought was for an incubus that needed to cum, and badly, Damon knew his lucid line of reasoning from earlier tonight was still the right one. She wasn't ready for him, mentally, physically, and least of all emotionally. This wasn't how he should take her virginity, or any man for that matter, and her reasons for doing it made no rational sense to him. Sex was for pleasure, not for pain. She should want to fuck him to enjoy it, not to punish herself.

"We should not rush it... it's better if you are ready," he said at last, his eyes glinting in the firelight again. He could see her resolve and knew she wouldn't take no easily, so he tried a different tactic. "Here... let me prepare you."

He let go of his cock, letting it pull away from her hot sex with a soft sigh, and instead brought his fingers between her thighs and began to tease them in her wet folds. His target was apparent to her within seconds, that swollen and hidden button at the top of her slit, throbbing under her folds. He pressed and rubbed it slowly, fingers moving in a maddeningly slow circle. He would bring her to a fever pitch, slowly and steadily, and get her to cum. Maybe then, she'd rethink her foolish and misguided plan to have him fuck her tonight, or at least be more ready for his cock if he lacked the strength still to say no.

"Take my cock and stroke it. Get me ready for you as well."
 
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Ofélia was frozen in place, heart hammering in her chest, in her ears, in her throat. Her mouth was dry, lips parted soundlessly as her face held mingled desire and panic. Tiny lines of stress were forming around her mouth and eyes and in the tensed line of her body as he took his cock and guided it past her nether lips. She was too afraid to move while he rested there, nestled against her pulse. She already felt herself stretching to accommodate him, a tension spreading through her core that began to ache. Whether it was pain or something else she could not tell.

“Do you not?” She rasped back, her breath erratic, again with a mixture of excitement and nerves. He teased her with anxiety and lust, though just as he felt resistance at the entrance of her sex, her entire body seemed to be pushing away from his even as her hips remained angled, waiting for him to make his next move.

Hesitantly, her tongue darted out to wet her lips, dark eyes flying across his face as if searching for something.

“I am ready,” she insisted. Only her hand moved to clench around his arm so that she had something to hold onto. Her nostrils flared and she closed her eyes, teeth taking her lower lip and worrying it.

Only to have him draw away. Her eyes snapped open, hurt confusion processing across her features. She even opened her mouth to protest the absence of him, only to gasp in shock as his fingers replaced the stiff heat of his member. She jerked impulsively, her fingers tightening around his bicep, nails digging in as a new kind of panic infused on her features.

“Oh… ooohh.. No, no…” she uttered, the breath leaving her lungs as the sweet ache nestled between her legs bloomed to life with the touch of his fingertips. She tried to wiggle her hips away from his touch before he found her sweet spot, touching the pulsing nub with the pad of his finger. Like pushing a button. The shudder that cascaded through her was intense, making her gasp again as her hips buckled as if not knowing where to go at this point.

White hot pleasure throbbed through her, tensing her stomach, making her pant as she scrambled for purchase against him. Hot liquid pooled between her thighs, sticky and sweet, and Ofélia moaned low in her throat as she ducked her head against his shoulder to fight another shudder that sent a tremor up her spine and down to her toes, curling them up. Just the same with her fingers as they marked his skin with her nails.

“Please..” she whimpered, lost, but also drowning in another cascading wave of pleasure that crested from her clit that he circled. Her hips bucked, pressing into his hand. “It… this is unnatural,” she gasped, her hand moving up, grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down, her forehead pressed against his, she she struggled to resist the mewling noise of pleasure that fell from her lips.

Shaking, her other hand did roam between them, fingers dancing across the muscles of his stomach. She was more hesitant than she had been when she grabbed his cock that first time. Her fingertips brushed the head of him, curled, then with a harshly sucked in breath of air, she unwound her digits and touched his length, letting her fingers wander the rigid muscle, feeling the softness of his skin over hardness. He was hot to the touch, pulsing.

She jerked when she felt him twitch against her hand, then moved it back, finally wrapping around his girth. She held him for a while as she struggled against her body’s own cresting sensations, then pulled up with her hand, feeling him slide through her palm.
 
“Do you not?”

"Of course I do, you know what I am," Damon's smile was evil, and it was a very honest answer. Fucking Ofélia was in his nature, part of his blood, and a basic need. He wouldn't have hesitated, normally, it would be as natural to him as breathing. To worship a woman's sex with his prick wasn't dirty, or shameful, rather it was as natural an act as he could imagine.

Until right now.

Touching her was good, it distracted him for a second as he thought more on what he should do. Kissing was better, as it distracted him from even thinking. His mouth silenced her whimpers and slight protests, which faded quickly as his expert fingers stoked her lust. This kiss was deep and passion filled, and he devoured her with his mouth while his tongue roamed past her lips and explored her on the inside. The kiss was almost enough to make him forget about his aching cock, until her questing hand seized his rod.

"Oh, sweet lord of night," he groaned out, breaking the kiss as he closed his eyes at the feeling of her inexperienced hand wrapping around him and stroking him. He was so turned on, so desperate to cum, that even her tentative tugging was sending thrills of pleasure down his length and up his spine. Without looking, he could feel his cock was dribbling pre-cum, lubricating his length as her fingers rubbed up and down his veined meat. His cock throbbed, twitching as it mindlessly sought more stimulation, and he could feel the muscles in his own core contract in excitement as she brushed against his swollen crown. "Y-yes, there. Careful, it's very sensitive at the tip."

For a moment, his world became Ofélia's calloused fingers, so unlike any woman who had touched his cock before. They glided over his aching tip, spreading his slippery lubicration on that hot and sensitive skin, lightly touching, gently teasing, and oh so sweetly giving him a constant stream of tingling pleasure. Her body was pressed against him, now hot and sweaty from their passion and the cool night air a welcome relief. He felt her scarred back, the firm curve of her ass pressed against his stomach, and the soft touch of her lips as they brushed against his own. The sound of his own panting filled his ears. The only movement in his tensed body was his own hand, which squelched noisily between her wet thighs as he delved amongst her folds.

"Yes, yes, YES!" he groaned out, kissing her at times, almost randomly, as she explored his cock. Damon could sense she was close to the edge herself, her body writhing now against his own jerking frame, and he knew his lust was out of control. Her fingers felt good, no doubt, but his cock craved to be inside her. It was a foolish gambit to think that he could divert his pleasure elsewhere, especially after not having had a release in days.

Who was he kidding, after all? He was an incubus, and fucking women was what he was made to do.

He gripped his cock, snatching it from her hands and placed it back at her sex, his fingers thrumming on her clit as he felt her teetering near the edge. Her lips were hungry now, barely needed to stretch to suck his head in again as he felt her passage with the sensitive skin that now burned with need. She pulsed against him, that latent resistance teasing him to break through and burst her barrier, daring him to take the maidenhead that truly was his right, for he'd played no games with her, nor used any magical tricks. No, she'd asked for this on her own and who was he to deny a woman when they craved him so?

"Now, cum for me!" He urged her, his voice a low growl as his fingers blurred on her clit.

He waited, it was torture for his cock, until he knew she was topping over the edge, helplessly falling into a massive orgasm and her mind swept away like a leaf in the wind. And then, only then, did he push with his hips and drive himself into her once virgin cunt.
 
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This was a mistake. This was not like her dream. This was wild, ragged, too real. She felt too much. Where the dream had been naught but a trick, she now felt the full brunt of his aggression. She clung to his mouth when it found hers again, holding on to the heated kiss as if everything depended on it. Her free hand even rose, shaking, and touched the side of his face as her lips quivered and parted for the full onslaught of his tongue.

It was a pleasant distraction, though her body remained a hot wire of tension.

Her fingers curled around his jaw, latching on, as her tongue took to its own tentative exploration even as her insides seized up from his questing fingers between her thighs. She made a noise of protest when he pulled his mouth away from hers, eyes open to mirror the look of near desperation as the motions of his hand became harder, more erratic. Ofélia even jerked her hips back from his touch as her insides jerked and clenched in a mingling of intense, cresting pleasure and an aching pain. It caused her to grip him hard, then almost not at all. Her features scrunched as she bit back the noise that built in her throat and she fought the sensations that pulled at her from her very core.

His fingers followed her, though, even though she squirmed away and pushed back, her body the biggest traitor and growing horror at the wet that spread. She was a mingling of overwhelming pleasure that speared through her and a wash of nervous energy that wasn’t sure if she should roll from him completely or see this through.

It was almost a relief when he pulled his member from her grip, though his own jerking motions with his hips had seen through most of her own awkwardness towards holding him. The relief was short lived, however, as his lips pushed against the swollen ache again, making her squirm, her hand finally snapping down to grip his wrist as she gritted her teeth and stifled the simpering moan caught there.

Her hand was even quicker to pass to his other, grasping his wrist in shock as he moved the tip of his cock to press just inside. Her dark eyes were wide, breath caught, and Ofélia forced herself to still and listen to the sound of her own heart pounding against her chest.

“Wait--” she startled, voice warbling, her stand still at least making it easy for the hard and fast flex of his digits to push her harder. The muscles in her stomach clenched as she groaned, eyes squeezing shut as her clit pulsed hard again, then again, until she spasmed and a shocked noise erupted from her throat. It tightened her grip on the wrist that held his cock, her features flinching.

He would not be waiting. She gasped out loud again and jerked his hand just as soon as his hips pushed hard. She felt the pressure, the stretching sensation, the snap of pain as her hymen broke. She made a strangled sound and stilled completely, body strung taut as she fought the urge to pull him free and roll away.
 
Damon was helpless against his own nature.

He couldn't stop, even as he heard Ofélia cry out to wait and felt the tension of her hand on his wrist. His body moved of its own mind, his hips pushing forward following the call of his cock as it tasted her sex again. Only then, after that sharp thrust from which he felt her resistance yield and his cock slip inside, did he let out a long and deep exhale and force his body to wait. The feel of a woman's sex around his cock was intoxicating, like a drug he'd been craving for days filling his veins and spreading pleasure and contentment through his body. As always, when inside a woman, he felt alive, his body tingling with latent magic and lust as his incubus powers surged.

"There... yes," he murmured in her ear, before nuzzling his cheek against her own. He knew she was roiling with emotions, her orgasm, this new pain, and the realization that what she'd asked him to do had been done. "Breathe. Take a deep breath."

She wanted me to do this. He was justifying it to himself. You didn't have to listen to her.

It'd been days since he'd cum, and his body craved a release so badly. Even lying here, the tip of his cock inside her barely, was sending thrills of pleasure into his body. Of course, he wanted more, no needed more. He moved inside her slowly, not trying to push anywhere near his full length into her tight core. Just the first couple inches was all he felt she could take and that likely was enough of a stretch for her virgin walls that he feared she'd find no pleasure tonight, even after the initial shock of pain had fade.

"Ofélia, easy... breathe," he whispered, kissing her cheek and ear.

Gently, slowly, he pumped himself inside her, while he shifted his hand to grip her breast, spooning himself tight behind her as his hips moved slowly and rhythmically.

She was a virgin. Worse than a virgin, actually, she was a woman brainwashed into thinking that her most natural urges were sinful. And here he was, fucking her during their first night alone together. Seducing a virgin was always a challenge, not getting them to do it of course as he could convince them, but rather getting them to relax and enjoy it with all the raw emotions that came along with the act. Even with all his powers, it was never as simple as with a lusty, experienced woman that knew exactly what she was getting into. And the next day was often the worst...

"This is not wrong... breathe."

Was he saying it to make her feel better about having sex, or to himself to make him feel less guilty about fucking her after he had decided he wouldn't?

Damon didn't know.
 
The pain was not such a bad thing, though she felt the trickle of blood on her thighs and the ache that followed. The shock was worse and had her heart beating faster than a hummingbird’s wings - or so it felt - as she lay motionless with her breath caught in her throat as the dawning of what he had just done occurred to her.

It was a mistake.

She knew that. She knew that she should not have let her emotions win out; he had taken advantage of her there. It was the very reason why she was taking him in, the very reason he was a prisoner. And now she was the fool who had been tricked by the monster, and now he had his way.

She wondered if he had lied about giving pleasure. Outside of the dream, the sensations had been intense, overwhelming, forced through her as she had struggled to grasp fully around it all. His voice in her ear, his gentle nuzzle against her cheek made her jerk, gasp out. She was still wet there, where his length now pushed inside her, the aftermath of what his fingers had drove her body to sending quivers of mixed sensation through her core.

She did not like that beyond the alien sensation, the stretching of her body around the heat of his length that inched further into it, it felt good. That her sensitized body craved him, all of him, and that her swollen nub started to ache and throb as nerve endings that had never been activated before sent shocking thrilled up her spine.

“Is it done, then?” She asked in a ragged, breathless whisper. Her maidenhead had been broken. She closed her eyes, dark nipple perking as his hand found the swell of her breast, and the forbidden corner of her mind wanted his other hand to continue its work between her thighs, to alleviate the building pressure.

But the forefront of her mind was trying not to spiral as her body shook and her legs turned to jelly at his shallow, insistent thrusts.
 
Fucking was always fun.

As an incubus, Damon might be accused of being a bit biased towards that opinion, of course, but it was still true. Even tonight, with a repressed former virgin pressed against him, her body tense and her mind recovering from the bloom of pain that had signaled her purity was a thing of the past, Damon still found the beauty and sexiness of the moment. How could one not?

Ofélia filled his senses and his mind, the chill air of the night and the flickering warmth of the fire on their legs were another world from the private one he had created with Ofélia. Their world was dominated by the burning heat he felt from every inch of their flesh that touched. His hands were full of her, a soft breast in the grasp of one and the other buried between her thighs, finding her wet with blood and arousal as his fingers danced on her clit. Her hair brushed against his face as his mouth nuzzled along her cheek. The warmth of their moving bodies, his stomach sliding against her back, creating a sheen of sweat between them that rose as steam into the night. And below, where his hips pumped mindlessly, that sweet swell of pleasure was rising inside of him as he felt her all around him, her walls so tight and gripping that he couldn't help but burrow deeper and deeper with every gentle thrust.

“Is it done, then?”

He could hear the trepidation in her voice, laced with a hint of eagerness to get this over with now that he'd pricked her. She didn't understand yet that this was not just about his cock being inside her for the first time, or the physical act of breaking of her maidenhood, but that fucking was something she should, and would with any luck, enjoy. And not for just the pleasure and the fun, Damon decided in a strange leap of thought for him, but also for the emotions it offered them, the feeling of...

Damon paused as he struggled to think of how to label this feeling that had crept into his mind. He'd never dwelt much on why people liked fucking, beyond the fact that it felt good. Was it the closeness, the raw intimacy of the act? There was a trust you had to have with another, and that sweet feeling of being desired, and having your own desires fulfilled.

There was something more...

"We've only just begun," Damon murmured back, his body urging her own to relax and feel his rhythm, his pressure, and the pleasure he hoped Ofélia might reach despite the emotions and pain he knew she was processing. His teeth nibbled her ear playfully. "Just relax... try to enjoy this first time. It's the hardest one."

He redoubled his efforts to tempt Ofélia's body back to enjoying the pleasure that had seduced her earlier, his fingers moving in rhythm on her nipple and clit as his cock pumped into her, nearly halfway inside now and at the limit of what he knew she could tolerate tonight. In her ears, he whispered sweet nothings, telling her how good she felt, how much pleasure she was giving him, and how badly he wanted to cum. And it was all true, for Damon felt that warm and tingling glow in his cock begin to spread through his body, a wave of pleasure that ran up his spine and poured into the back of his head, until he was forced to close his eyes and let his words turn to groans.

"Ofélia, I can't... no longer," he gasped out, his hips moving fast now and the his thrusts sharp and strong. "I'm coming..."
 
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He was an invading force. As much as he cooed in her ear, nuzzled her reassuringly, Ofélia could not bring herself to relax fully in this lewd embrace, nor could she shake the feeling that it was a mistake to have allowed him this. It was a reminder of her purpose, of why he was a captive in the first place; what he was doing to her now was something he had done with countless other women, only from her understanding, they were not all too aware as she was of what was occurring.

And was it not force ...if she had encouraged him to do as such?

It did not help her muddled confusion that his fingers had started their game between her legs, sliding between the dampened folds to stroke the ache that throbbed, swollen, underneath the hood of her womanhood. His fingers sent jolts of pleasures spindling through her core and caused her to squirm, which in turn made her all too aware of his hard presence inching inside her tight channel, squeezing down on him every time he struck an especially pleasurable chord with his fingers.

Her teeth came down on her lower lip, stifling the unbidden noises that caught in her throat until she couldn’t. Instead, she twisted her flushed face to the side, nuzzled her embarrassment against the hollow of his throat, her moans vibrating against his skin as her hips rocked, slow, jerking, an erratic motion that lit up her nerve endings where his length thrust inside her.

More than anything, Ofélia was ashamed that she felt desire from this, that she felt pleasure at all. That it felt good, despite the discomfort from her stretching insides to accommodate his girth, and that his wicked fingers only incited more sensation from her.

“I--” she gasped, her fingers climbing to clutch at his arm attached to the hand teasing her dark, hardened nipple that bounced rippling shudders back and forced between her wet sex and the nerves in between. She was rocking in time with him now, whether she was aware of it or not, the hitched noises confused as to whether they were sobs or moans. There was a build up she felt, different than the hard and fast force of his fingers that had her shuddering with a release, but also the same.

She mewled her dissent and arched her back, pushing her ass back against his hips hard like she was trying to push him away, when really all the motion did was push his cock that much deeper inside her. She felt herself stretch, felt a mingling of pressure and discomfort, but also an aching pleasure that she clung to as her clit finally had enough.

The orgasm rippled from her almost painfully. It caused her to groan, squirming against his hand as she fought against it, only to have it erupt from her little nub and squeeze her inner channels tight, which soon gave way to a series of inner spasms that clutched at his cock and tensed inside her womb. Her body released in a series of shudders and the adrenaline pump forced the breath out of her lungs in ragged gasps.

Eyes squeezed shut, she rode the sensation with her face pressed into his skin still, her bucking hips slowing into stillness.
 
Damon's orgasm was a needed relief, his body had hungered for it after being denied for so many days. For a sweet moment, getting there was all that consumed him, his hips pumping mindlessly as he thrust inside Ofélia. The pleasure called and soon spread from his cock to explode through his body. His cock twitched, spurting his seed inside her tight entrance as he groaned in pleasure. She gripped him, her own body squirming and shuddering, and he dimly felt some comfort that she felt some pleasure in what would otherwise be a painful act.

And then, all too soon, he was coming down.

His panting groans urned to ragged gasps and the night air felt chill on on his slick skin. He shifted, gripping her tight with both his arms as he wrapped her into an embrace from behind and kept their sticky warmth together. Slowly his cock began to soften inside her, their fluids leaking out of her as it began to slip free.

"Thank you," he murmured, kissing her ear lightly and giving her body a soft squeeze. "It is not in my nature to refuse such a request..."

It was an odd feeling Damon felt now as he basked in post-orgasmic lucidity. He'd never fucked a woman like this, without her being under his Incubus spell. It felt good, but odd as he wondered what she was thinking and feeling now without magic to befuddle her brain. He'd done what he'd promised her he wouldn't, but she'd asked for it after all. He doubted she'd enjoyed it as much as he had, but then again, his body had craved the release like an drunkard seeking a fresh taste of spirit.

For Ofélia...

He reached with a free hand and tried to cover them with his shirt. It didn't do much, but at least their torsos were somewhat warmer.

"It is not such a bad thing, is it?" he asked softly. "The first time is the most painful."
 
She could hear her own ragged pants in her ears, felt the pounding of her heart in her chest as the euphoric high eased her back down into awareness. It was like an adrenaline rush, or even akin to the bloodlust of battle, only now she felt spun out and frazzled with a mixture of sensation that ranged from a deep, aching pain to a sense of pleasurable relief from her thrumming privates that were still oversensitive from stimulation.

The heat of lust was dwindling back down into the reality of where they were. Outside, exposed to the chill of the night. Her body was sticky with sweat that was cooling on her skin, causing her to shiver and push in close to his body while she also fought the compulsion to jerk away from him as soon as she felt his member twitch, his fluids pump into her, overflowing her thighs with his own hot release.

“I am leaking,” she finally said in disgust as he slid from her, trailing fluid after him. Her legs curled up, knees bending, a mix of semen, blood, and her own fluids clinging to her inner thighs and quickly growing cold. She shuddered in a mixture of hormone induced pleasure, cold, and mild revulsion at the mess and turned her shaking form inward so that her chin could kick up and her dark eyes met his.

There was trepidation there on her flushed face, questions that she would never asked lurking behind the attention she was giving his features. There was a fear there as well, at what she had just allowed him to do, before she finally curled her upper lip in a grimace.

“I can understand why you would have to place your victims under a spell for the act to be enjoyable. It is messy, uncomfortable; I did not care for it,” she declared, then turned her face away from him, debating on whether her limbs could pull her up, even while her body groaned a protest at the thought of leaving the warmth behind. “I preferred the dream I--” She cut herself off with her lips dragging into a thin line, shifting uncomfortably as she had almost admitted the wet dream from the morning. “Is it always so rushed, frantic? Or was that your lack of control?”
 
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