Taste For The Wicked | Vaip + Ether

Moonlight filtered through the room and across the sheets, melding with the warm rays of candlelight in their otherwise frigid quarters. Her saving grace was the unholy tangling of their bared bodies, injecting a stream of lust into the air. She was high on it. The taste of eroticism on her tongue, accompanied only by his lips. Exposure never felt quite so good. The myriad of vices Rafiya offered could never compare to the arsenal within that Beast. She’d only known an inkling of the sin that transpired by a Fae bonfire. But she had a hunch it didn’t even graze the surface of what the Beast had in store for her. Her verdant gems were riveted by the sight of him nuzzled into her thigh, his bewitching mouth curled into a vile expression.

“Should I apologize, too, for having been unfaithful to you? I wouldn't mind kissing you a thousand times over if you wanted. No, make it ten thousand. A hundred thousand... A million.” He simmered small apologies, empty of regret. The lashes of her sultry gaze lowered to shade her vexing orbs. She didn’t believe him for a moment. He seemed almost satisfied with himself as he crawled over her, anything but repentant of his transgressions. “You know, I'm really sorry...”

She lurched at the white-hot presence pressing into her slit, daring her to break composure. Her brow twitched, a bead of sweat running down her temple under strands of her damp hair. It was near impossible to ignore the urge eating at her temptation, begging to have him fill her ravenous void. “I know a man of conquest when I see one.” She retorted urbanely. Morgana was undaunted by the prospects of Xeno’s past. The woman was a huntress at heart and simultaneously coveted prey. She was no stranger to the flirtatious games of courting. His words were nonetheless suggestive, falsely depicting chivalrous intent. Though his lips proved otherwise, flashing her a roguish smirk. “So go ahead, Beast. Show me what you’ve learned.”

He obliged her, dragging his tongue over her skin and leaving a glistening trail down to her core. The girl sank her fangs into her lip, summoning all resolve left in her system as she beheld his descent. The captive of her voice was wrestling free, a strangled moan wrenching through her teeth as he spread her. His fingers dug into the excess flesh of her backside, eliciting a groan from the girl as she writhed in his grip.

Endless, it was. Depraved as it rumbled in the caverns of his chest, reckoning, tearing up his throat into a beastly growl. “I swear, woman, the more I see of you, the more it makes me want you.” She could feel the fathomless desire in his words. The woman couldn’t begin to understand how deeply the roots of these emotions ran. It was unbelievable, how little she knew of his devotion. And how her understanding would start to evolve at the brush of his fingers, and the kisses he’d lay onto her flesh. Part of her was baffled by the insanity of it all. Of how the Beast worshipped her without opposition nor restraint. At least, restraint in his feeling rather than action. But he never once questioned the bond between them. He never revoked the feelings he harbored towards her. Xeno was… unconditional, in his devotion- in his ardor. The power that resonated through his being was not from entitlement, or something as simple as being a man. It stemmed from the extension of his very soul. It was a part of his soul, so bottomless, centered- and entirely made of the man she adored.

“Xeno.” She breathed his name like a prayer, knotting her fingers into his hair. Her vivid eyes fought to witness what he was doing to her, dying to know the secret that made her so delirious. Pleasure was bolting through her so thoroughly, exhaustion dangling over her tired body like death. She was losing touch with the world, tethered solely by the bond between them and the havoc it wreaked upon her physical being.

“Gods.” She plead, and she could feel tremors raking through her legs. A knot of tension had built in her belly, climbing into heights that made her vision go blank. “I can’t-” The girl verbalized her necessity, under various shrieks and moans. “I need you. Oh Gods, Xeno…! I need you.” Her cries bled from her lips and rose her hips into ecstasy. “You make me insane, and it feels so good! So, so… good.” Morgana groaned, digging her nails into his scalp. “I can’t; I don’t want to cum- …but I want to.” A squeal amassed between her fervently sealed lips, threatening to break loose as her whole body began to shake. “Yes, I want to cum. Oh, Gods. I want you to destroy me. Destroy me, fill me, consume me.” The girl uttered her last words with such desperation, surrendering to the wave Xeno wrought on her. Pleasure was her last conscious thought, a darkness blanketing her into the night.

The morning came, though her mind did not wake. Her slumber was ever peaceful as she lay comfortably among the sheets. The soft, but fine features of her face were etched into seventh heaven- never quite so beautiful as she appeared then. There was colour and warmth to her pale skin that the sunlight could not do justice. An unpronounced smile swept across plump pink lips. She only ever stirred in her lover’s absence, settling into sanctuary dreams as he returned.
 
Her voice, her shrieks, echoed through the night in that one instant, as her body went tense, her nails digging into his skin with fervent rage as he assaulted her every nerve with constant, incessant pleasure. Each time his tongue lapped at her, she would jolt, scream, moan. It was music to his ears, coupled with the woman's mindless blabbering, something he would later relate to her building orgasms. She really knew how to be lively, once her inhibitions were thrown away. But more than anything, he would have to work on building her stamina up. For her to become exhausted after a little foreplay was something he wouldn't be satisfied with in the future. For now, though, he reveled in the sensation of her quivering legs, wrapped neatly between them, before she went loose, unconscious.

Xeno slipped back up to her, holding her in his arms as he, himself, felt exhaustion take him over. He huffed amusedly at how happy the elf was, with her horns out and her tail contently swaying about. He tossed the blanket over her head and his shoulder, wrapping his arms around her head and pulling her to his chest, allowing his tail to coil around her waist, pulling her closer. Slowly, he fell into unconsciousness himself, sighing happily as her warmth worked to relax him.

--- A few hours later ---

He was silent, quick, to remove himself from Morgana's side, efficiently grabbing around for his clothes, causing not a sound louder than a breath despite the crickety wooden boards of his room. The wolfman was regretful to leave her, desiring nothing more than to just lie in bed and watch her peaceful, sleeping face until she awoke, and then lie around some more, lazily talking about nothing at all, but there were things that needed to be done. Because although they were lovers, they also had duties as royalty, to their subjects. Perhaps one day he would renounce the crown, just to be with her. At this very moment, however, he slipped in his boots and walked out, locking the door behind him and leaving for his match at the Colosseum. He greeted Windry on the way out, scratching the back of his ear at her shameless comments about last night and how Morgana was quite the screamer. Funny for her to say, when Morgana had said the same thing about the red-haired woman. He kept the comment to himself, though, leaving only a smile behind as a hint to his thoughts.

Walking around the city without Morgana left him wanting, of her company and her constant commentary about things he would've cared not for in the past. Now, though, he would rather have her at his side, talking about trivial things, rather than survive through the silence. More than once, he would feel the looks of women as he walked down to the Colosseum. Yet he did not swell with pride like he would've before, only the thought of returning to the slumbering beauty in his mind. His mind was filled with the sounds she'd made in response to his touch, the way her face contorted with pleasure. How she had demanded, in her prideful splendor, for apology from a man who had been born not only with the mark of a king, but the strength to dominate the world. She was his princess, and he wanted nothing more than to spend his every waking moment spoiling her.

His match was quick and, in his opinion, unremarkable. The Badlands were infamous for being a country full of hardened, cold-blooded men, yet it seemed that even among them, there were weaklings who knew not the delicacies of war. Men who only ever won by backstabbing, trickery, and could never fight a man who would not fall for such tricks. Xeno took the prize money for his performance without a word and directed himself straight to the inn, but not before stopping by a stall with an elderly, kind-looking woman selling pastries. He bought a handful, unsure of which one Morgana would like the most. The woman thanked him and he simply nodded in acknowledgement, continuing on his way. It wasn't more than a few minutes before he was at the inn's door, which he pushed past and was greeted by a lively noon crowd. A few of the people hanging around were faces he'd seen before, but there were a few others. All regulars, he could guess. Windry greeted him with that sultry smile of hers and Xeno gave her his own muted smirk as he made his way to the stairs and up.

Xeno slipped his key into the door and unlocked it, pulling back quietly before shutting the door behind him, locking the door behind him again. "Wake up, my princess..." He breathed, a small smile painted on his lips when he noticed her expression hadn't changed at all since he'd left her. She wasn't the kind to sleep in like this, he could tell. She was probably unused to getting a full sleep, with how she always seemed to be on edge, ready for the worst to happen. She had been raised that way. Not even a beast was as wary as her. "Hey," he slipped to her side, setting down the back of confectionaries on the nightstand next to his bed, letting his hand rest on her cheek, feeling the mound of it with his thumb. "Am I going to have to awaken my sleeping beauty with a kiss...?" He teased, his eyes soft as he allowed himself to lean in and take in her features closely. No matter how much he looked at her, he was astounded by her pure, gentle beauty.

"Morgana, I... I l..." Xeno gulped hard, the words catching in his throat, a pang of anxiety, something he'd never felt before, building in his gut. "I..." He cleared his throat. "Your king... demands that you awaken, my little kitten. We have much we should do..."
 
For the first time in a long time- the world was quiet. The songs of birds did not whisper into the heavens. The wind did not howl against the glass windowpanes. Daybreak all but lied still, as the princess sank into a lucid dreamscape. Darkness and moonlight swirled and hissed over an endless expanse. Nothing but the inky, picturesque sky remained in view- and slick, onyx floors that held up a four-poster bed. Wispy black curtains draped in a canopy, above a mattress donned with silken sheets. The floor was cold beneath her toes, the girl glancing down to find her feet bare. Her heart thrummed within her chest, beating heavily against the silence that threatened to consume her whole. It was an empty darkness, her only refuge being offered in the shape of a beautifully woven trap. Her stomach lurched at the sight of the bed, every bone in her body screaming with warning as she padded closer to the structure. Sweat clung to her skin, her feet sticking slightly to the onyx floors as she neared the edge of the mattress. The posts and frame were carved ornately in oak, stained to the same color of her curious setting. Brushing her fingers against a column, she felt an icy chill run down the nape of her neck.

“Cruel, little thing…” It whispered, drawing a hand down her waist. Panic raked its raw, naked claws into her being; every hair on her body rising with pure fear. Danger leaked from the vile creature’s tongue, like a predator in the midst of its hunt. She moved to wrench away from his grasp, eying the way his long, deft fingers stroked the seams of her dress. She was wearing a black affair, garnished with feathers that tickled her skin. It was somehow familiar. He was familiar.

A gasp parted her lips as she was forced onto the bed, cushioned by the feather-light feeling of satin sheets. She struggled awkwardly to get away, writhing over the mattress as her predator prowled near her feet. “Oof!” She huffed as her back connected with the headboard. She was horrified, trapped as if she were a helpless prey. Her pulse spiked, the chances of her escape crushed under the weight of his domain. The animal, the beast had her cornered. His talons dug into her wrists as he anchored her to the bed. No matter how she struggled, she couldn’t break free- his strength inhuman. He was vile, beastly even, as his fangs glinted under the silver light. Wild amber eyes drew fear from her very soul. He tore at her dress, the fabric cleaved with ease to reveal her pale, virgin skin. His callous touch skimmed over her goosey flesh, trailing ever so slowly to his meal. He seemed to savor her trembling form, his fingers sliding beneath the waistband of her underwear.

“Naughty girl.” The beast growled between clenched teeth, tugging the fabric of her panties. She squirmed underneath him, restless in attempting her escape.

“Don’t touch me!” She spat, kicking in protest. The beast was not having it- using the combination of his tail and his free hand to strap her legs in place. He was furious, wedging her thighs apart with his hips and grinding his erection into her core.

“Why, sweetheart? You belong to me.” The beast chuckled lowly, his face hidden as he nestled into the crook of her neck. “If I remember correctly, you said you like pain…” A shiver swept down her spine. “Be still, princess.” His command shot a thrill through her. She was aching, a wetness between her thighs as she relinquished all hope of retreat from the pain he promised her.

Warmth stretched through the mirage of her imagination, rippling through the clouds and across her sunlit skin.

Morgana, she heard, the surface calling her back to clarity as her dream fizzled away. The morning light pried her lids over groggy emeralds, her lashes fluttering to blink away remnants of sleep. She could feel it was well past dawn, Xeno likely having just returned from his match. She frowned internally, wishing she could have witnessed his victory. Although she was unsure whether to be more upset about missing his fight, or the continuation of her dream.

The very creature of her sweet nightmares loomed over her, his beastly lips curled subtly. “Your king... demands that you awaken, my little kitten. We have much we should do.” She cursed his presence. For it was all too tempting to abandon her dream, when the instigator lied right in front of her.

At first, only snippets of the nightmare (dream?) hung over her now conscious state. It was a mixture of disturbing, and exciting excerpts- tangling the princess into a strange mood. She felt mischievous, provocative, and somewhat naïve; wishing she could lure the beast into her fantasy. Understanding its origins was troublesome, and stirred her mind in uncomfortable ways. Pursuing a fantasy she didn’t understand would be foolish. Least of all, she didn’t want to reveal the… oddity of her bizarre desires to her new partner. Still, her mischievous gaiety persisted to swell.

Morgana stretched under the covers, the sheets falling just over the peaks of her breasts as she basked in her nudity. “Hello, Beast King.” She greeted him smoothly, giving him a lazy, wicked smirk. Her tail swayed in a leisurely tempo, her arms snaking around his neck as she rose from her position. The demoness hummed softly in pleasure, nestling her pinkened face into his neck. “Mm… kitten, huh?” She mocked his pleasant change of heart, adorning her with pet names. It was a new experience, but certainly not unwelcomed. Affection was all but foreign to the princess, now being administered by the most nefarious man in Karindo. It was only expected, as the two were now… what were they? A couple? Lovers? In a courtship? Engaged? She struggled to find the parameters, allowing the subject to fade. Her eyes drew toward the tattooed markings on his skin. That’s right. He was her mate. She beamed at the thought, emitting a small giggle as she nipped at his skin.

The scent of freshly baked bread and caramelized fruit tickled her nose, reeling her from her thoughts. “Your little kitten smells pastries.” She withdrew from him, reaching over to the nightstand to snag a peak. “And she’s quite famished.” She added cheekily, peeling the bag open with verve. Morgana paused for a moment, tapping her chin. “Not particularly for food, but this will do.” The princess winked, and delved into the package to reveal its contents.

Inside were a number of baked goods, mostly of the tart and croissant variety. She swiped a piece of fried, powdered dough from one of the sweet breads- her eyes glittering with approval.

“Much to do indeed.” She agreed, popping another piece of pastry between her lips. Chewing thoughtfully, she shifted about, finally settling to lie in his lap. Unsure of what made her so bold to forgo her modesty, she merely distracted her blatant embarrassment with her sweet-tooth. Swallowing her treat, her tongue gleaned over her teeth to collect any straggling bits of sugar; though it seemed to be a rather sensual gesture more than anything. “I have errands to run. And, I was thinking of inviting a certain Beast to accompany me.” The tone of her voice was causal and feline, although her heart was pattering as raggedly as it had in her dream.
 
Xeno could practically smell the elf's uncertainty, her body language a mix of disturbed, afraid and... curious? He would admit- it was quite hard to read the woman sometimes. By the look in her eyes, how it delayed her focus for just a moment, she had been dreaming, perhaps a nightmare by the way she stirred restlessly. Yet she did not jolt to a wake, but woke up serenely, almost as if whatever her mind conjured up for her hadn't been exactly unwelcome. Xeno's ears wriggled just a tad, befuddled by his close observations. For a man often so carefree and cold towards most things, he found himself to be quite observant when it came to Morgana. It was somewhat vexing, for him to expend so much energy into reading her every gesture, yet it felt worth it, to get to know her every little detail.

Xeno's eyes softened when she finally did fully awaken, greeting the man with that teasing, frustrating tone of hers. "Mmm, that name carries with it unpleasant memories..." He muttered, rather to himself than directing his discontent to the woman. Despite her prickly nature, her eyes did not lie when they spoke of her affection for him. Xeno curved his back just the slightest bit as she caught him in her arms, closing whatever little distance there was between them in a lazy, sleepy embrace. He tickled her nape with his nose, his expression, though ever so arrogant, quite content with the intimate closeness. “Mm… kitten, huh?” It was only when she pointed it out that Xeno realized just how cheesy he had been to call her by that name, his cheeks burning up ever so slightly that it was practically impossible to notice. "Well, you're nimble... and small..." His arms wrapped around her waist, feeling along the valley of her spine, an annoyed groan echoing from his throat. "... And you're as much of a headache as one."

It took her long enough to notice the bag of offerings he'd brought along, a brow raising as she pulled away from their embrace, leaving him to watch as the girl sneaked a look into the bag. "Yes... They were selling some at the marketplace. I'm not particular toward sweets myself, but..." He didn't bother to finish the thought, far more interested in watching Morgana contain her obvious excitement for the treats. "Not the healthiest breakfast of all, I'll be the first to say..." Xeno smirked, however, at her small, suggestive comment. "Well, I'm sure I could satisfy whatever other cravings you may have, but then we would stay in all day."

Xeno was quite entertained to watch Morgana's expression break away from her ever seductive gaze into something more pure, more innocent, as the first hint of sugar hit her palate. He huffed something satisfactory and amused, his expression ever so soft as Morgana's eyes seemed to shine with joy. She spoke between bites, ever the proper lady, never speaking so quickly that she would forget to swallow. She was a princess indeed, and apparently one raised on good manners. He was... pleased to know the Rat King, as he had come to know him, hadn't neglected on her education. Still, it was a bit of a shame, for her to be so proper. He himself was hardly as good at maintaining table manners. He was more akin to an oaf, careless for such habits.

"You missed a spot here," he cut in, grabbing Morgana by the chin and angling her down just enough to press his lips on hers, a short kiss as he cleaned off the remains of the powdered sweet she had devoured with his lips, licking them clean when he was sure he'd gotten everything. "I'd be more than happy to accompany my Kitten," Xeno smirked, gazing over his shoulder to the pile of crumpled up clothes she had left last night. "Provided I get rewarded for my troubles, of course. Come on, you should get dressed up..."
 
The kiss was a prelude to the slow, saccharine way he’d tempt her mouth. As his tongue skirted along her sugared lips, she offered a small moan of content. More, the sensual noise beseeched him. She was impatient and infatuated with him. The mere thought that this creature now belonged to her, was a catalyst to the mind. It sent her imagination wayward, pouring over with lewd fantasies to fuel her new obsession of desire. He sated her like no rotten, twisted soul could. It was one thing to dig her fangs into a mortal prey, watching it struggle and splurge deep, oozing red. To witness the utter horror on their face, as she tainted their existence with despair. But, to be tortured by his claws- to be devoured by him, was another sensation all together.

“Call me that again…” Sensual nimbleness tinged her voice, her breath labored with hunger. “Call me kitten.” The plea was nothing more than a honeyed whisper, her lips brushing his as if to summon him closer.

The day held a plethora of tasks for the two. Like candlelight, the Sun was burning away the day by the minute. In a mild attempt to behave, Morgana drew back to lie across the man’s lap. Stretched over him in feline devilment, her breasts were exposed to the air- her lower half somewhat tangled in the mess of sheets being dragged from the mattress. One arm extending to stretch her languid body, her spine arched, her toes curled, and her free hand moved down her sternum. Her sweetly powdered fingers smeared a trail of sugared snow between her breasts, tracing towards her bellybutton.

“Oh dear.” The girl sighed, an impish smile befalling her delicate, sleep-ridden features. “I’ve made a mess.” She directed a cheeky grin at the Beast King, hinting at the fun that could’ve occupied their day- should they have stayed inside. Shimmying off his lap, she took a step towards the washroom. The sheets pooled at her feet, strewn off the bed. “While I clean off, you can decide what type of reward you’d prefer.”

Turning swiftly on her heel, she swiped her damp clothing from the footboard, and headed into washroom; flipping on the shower.

--- Later; The Marketplace ---

The city was lively, a myriad of shoppes thriving with business under the glistening sun. Mortal and immortal races alike were perusing the streets, conversing among desert stalls and stone storefronts. Many of the shoppes were decorated by unlit lanterns, leading her to believe that there was a night-market sometime past sundown. There were a mixture of ornately decorated stands, shaded by colorful draping fabrics. Others, likely the more well-established businesses, were built in tawny sandstone.

When they’d left the inn that morning, the tavern was filled with patrons. The barmaid, though her hands full, had given Xeno a rather interesting look. She frowned at the memory of his tail, swirling with curiosity when they’d first arrived at the inn. Windry was an annoying little pest, to say the least. It was a highly unappetizing sight, yet she paid little mind as she exited the tavern. Reeling in her jealousy, she bid a short farewell to Vatu and Chara. Vatu was quick to congratulate her, approving of her newly convened relationship. Chara, on the other hand, appeared unimpressed. She was lamentful of being unable to bring the two familiars with her into the marketplace. It was majorly a pedestrian area on a day like this; and she didn’t want to risk sullying her bargaining opportunities by scaring the shoppe-owners. Vatu was eager to cause havoc, smug in the mischief he could wreak upon his former fans. Although the idea was appealing, she ended up bribing the tiger to stay- promising him a slab of fresh meat from the market.

Recalling the numerous list of errands, Morgana scanned the array of shoppes. Drawn to a particular stall, selling a variety of exotic clothing, she nudged Xeno to alert him of her interest. It was an effort to weave through the crowds of people, finally reaching the large display of female apparel. Many of the fabrics were cut out of light, airy chiffon- made into long skirts, billowy pants, and interesting tops. Many were adorned with gold and jewels that would jingle, if worn. The shopkeeper was a middle-aged woman, tall for a human, and of a strangely muscular build- despite the feminine wear decorating the shoppe. Her skin was of a rich caramel, suggesting she was familiar to the desert lands. It would be difficult to haggle with her. Morgana was fairly skilled at utilizing her charm on any sex, but this woman would prove to be rather hard. It wasn’t as if she had any shortage of gold, but, the girl was a businesswoman at heart. She’d done quite a number back in the financial districts of Rafiya. She was conservative with her money, despite being obscenely wealthy. Relinquishing her urge to strategize a bargain, the elf relaxed into browsing the selection of tops.

She crinkled her nose every now and then, off-put by how exposing many of them were. None seemed to cover anything more than the chest-area, leaving the stomach, back, and often times a good portion of the cleavage exposed. Eyeing a black, chiffon top- she plucked it from the hanger. It had thin, transparent pieces of fabric that draped over the stomach. It would probably flutter in the breeze, and leave her midsection exposed in the end- but the small covering would be appreciated. The upper portion of the garment criss-crossed over the chest, and hugged the neck in a secure manner.

Grabbing the matching skirt, along with a few other trial outfits, she displayed them to Xeno. “I think I’m going to go try these on.” She announced, twisting her lips to the side as she scrutinized her own selection. Her initial pair, was in black. Though she managed to pick a few daring colors, including a red number that had plenty of jingly adornments, and didn’t leave too much to the imagination. She was hesitant of showing off skin. Even the modern Elf-wear was too skimpy for her tastes. She was ever the modest woman, but- …this was the Badlands. This was her one opportunity to explore a world outside of regal glamour. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too much of a crime to test her limitations.

The store clerk directed her to the dressing room. She started off by trying on the few others. She was a quick changer, despite the garments being a tad perplexing. The majority were, expectedly, too… much for her taste. Or rather, her dignity. The red was interesting, to say the least, with how low the pants sat on her hips. And the top could practically be a decorative brassiere. Her initial selection, the onyx set, was strangely both her favorite and her worst nightmare. It turned out the skirts featured slits on either side, riding dangerously high to the apex of her thighs. Though the center piece of cloth would cover what was needed. The most troubling of features, was the diamond shaped cutout of her top. She figured the wrap design would do well to stay in place. Yet… she never expected for the space to frame her cleavage, being pulled together precariously by criss-cross of fabric. It was backless, with an intricate gold band hugging some space below her shoulder blades- at the middle of her back. Attached to the gold band, her only saving grace, were the transparent drapes of fabric that hung over her stomach. Pulling at the panels curiously, she wondered how they might drift enticingly in the breeze.

The elf stared at it for awhile, blushing as she contemplated what it would be like to walk around the streets in such a garment. She could at least appraise the fact it was aerodynamic, and would do just fine in the colosseum. Given, she was wearing underwear. Peeking out from the dressing curtain, she slowly stepped out, draping an arm over her waist in a self-conscious manner. “Xe-” She began to call out to him, slapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the name once she realized her error. They were out on the town. And she would do well not to completely ruin the identities they’d fashioned for themselves. She recalled that he went by Noxe in the Badlands, but it felt strange to call him by his alias. She shifted for a moment, lowering her hand. “Husband.” She called for him, the word making her heart thump out of tempo. It was only apart of their cover story. There was nothing odd about calling him her spouse. Yet the word incited an inexplicable thrill in her. “Well?” She prompted for his opinion, her face flushed a soft pink.
 
Xeno's second time out of the inn was much more pleasant than the first time, greeted by a knowing Windry as he walked out of the inn. Though his womanizer instincts ordered him to answer her in kind, he forced himself to avoid her gaze. The woman, naturally, raised a brow at his strange behavior, but accepted it as him not looking to trouble Morgana. It wasn't that he was afraid of the girl's reaction to him being friendly to the barmaid; he simply wasn't interested in the woman any longer, at least not in a carnal way, to say nothing of his disinterest in her emotionally. Unfortunately, she had never stood a chance against Morgana, but it had never really been a competition. Xeno allowed the thought to leave him, letting other, more pleasant thoughts to invade his mind, like the way Morgana smelled of flowers, or the way her hips swayed so provocatively. He had to wonder if she was doing it on purpose or if he was simply infatuated with her to notice it.

The answer eluded him as they walked around the marketplace, looking through the countless stalls and storefronts. The wolfman was, quite honestly, uninterested in the concept of shopping and was only here to accompany his princess on her quest for proper clothes. As much as he disliked the man who had suggested it, Xeno was in agreement; a change in apparel would certainly make things most interesting. Plus, the elven girl could do with a change of pace after these last few days. How often did she get the chance to go out and windowshop, actually shop, in her country? If there was anything Xeno could do for her, it was to make her experience as fun as possible, even if it meant boring himself out of his mind. And man, was he already bored. Back in Karindo, he would have tailors brought to the palace, taking his measurements and creating clothes for him, and him only. He'd never had a need to buy his own clothes, so he couldn't understand what was so fun about it. But it made Morgana happy, and that's what mattered to him.

Xeno turned to Morgana when she tapped him on the shoulder, following close after her as she walked over to the one particular stall that interested her. He eyed the woman overlooking the stall, and he, in turned, was eyed by her. Too tall for his liking. He liked his women more like Morgana, petite, slim and without too much muscle in them. Sure, the elf woman was still as fit as one could be, but her muscle wasn't too prominent and only marked her best spot. Regardless of that, though, Xeno caught himself staring and shook his head. Bad habit of his, to think about whether he liked a woman based on their appearance. He only hoped Morgana didn't notice, but thankfully she was much more interested in what the woman was selling, grabbing at a handful of outfits. All of them provocative, of course, and suspiciously high-quality for a place such as the Badlands. He tried not to think about it, though.

“I think I’m going to go try these on.”

Xeno had sat down on a nearby barrel, crossing his arms and watching people go about their day, having figured that Morgana didn't need him to help her pick out an outfit or anything. Sure enough, she had picked out a selection of outfits. "Alright," he answered simply, watching her as she disappeared into the small, curtained stall. It took her only a few minutes to come back out, thankfully, calling out to him in a peculiar manner. Xeno's ears shifted slightly, unsure if they'd heard right. Sure enough, though, she had called him "Husband", out loud. Why, when she had insisted on calling him 'Beast' and 'Xeno', did she now decide to address him in such a manner? Then it hit him. Right... they were undercover. It made sense that she wouldn't want to give away his identity. For her to go by her real name was fine, since Rafiya had no affairs with the Badlands, but Xeno was infamous among the people of this country, having ran countless of them off their homes, forcing them to live in this forsaken land.

“Well?”

"Have I ever told you how sexy you are, Honey?" He uttered, lips curving upward as he stood from his barrel and walked over to her, his hands grabbing at the fabric of her top. The soft threads hugged her small frame tightly, practically hugging her figure and leaving little to the imagination. As much as he hated to admit it, the crowds would love her choice of attire. Especially the men. She must've had some sort of talent, because out of all the outfits, he could imagine any of them suiting her as perfectly as this one. "Because you are one. Delicious. Devil..." Xeno's hands quickly found themselves holding her hips, letting the tips of his fingers feel the bits of skin her top failed to cover, moving down to feel at the skirt itself. "I'm glad you took my advice about the skirt, by the way..."

The Beast King could feel the stall owner's glare burning at the back of his skull. Did she not like him touching the merchandise? That was the only thing that made sense, seeing as the people in the streets couldn't care less about people like Xeno getting frisky with their partners. The last thing they needed was to get shooed away from the stall, though, so Xeno pulled away reluctantly. "Take it, Dear. I love it. But to be honest, you could wear nothing and I'd still love it..."
 
She admit there was a wonder to perusing the boutiques of a foreign land. Morgana wasn’t entirely a stranger to shops, as she’d invested in a great deal of them back in the central cities of Rafiya. But as the crowned princess, she was forced to wear the concoctions formed between the Royal Tailor and her Father. Though she did quite the good job of commissioning her own tailors, having them fashion more reasonably modest gowns for her wearing (much to the King’s displeasure, as well as her suitors). The Badlands, however, had its own brand of authenticity to its appeal. The fruits of merchandise were widely accrued through foreign trade and imports. Given, the majority of business done was hardly clean, but produced wildly appealing results.

Marveling at the array of shades and fabrics, she’d been quick to test her luck in color. She wasn’t a particularly… colorful woman. She was absurdly pale, with dark hair and grim tastes. In her own country, she often wore neutral colors- for the fear that they may be dirtied by the dungeons or her escapades outside. Black truly suited her to a fault, as confirmed by her partner’s clear approval of her coordinate.

“Have I ever told you how sexy you are, Honey?” The Beast purred with content, grazing his claws over the new garment. His touch was gentle, but eager, as he appraised the way the fabric framed her body. She went frantically red under his overzealous attention. Showering her with sweet words and suggestive touches, he appeared rather smug. Either in his satisfaction with her wardrobe change, or the marital ruse he’d set up upon entering the Badlands.

“Easy, Beastie.” She murmured in an attempt to appear annoyed, pointing a finger to his chest to indicate her need for space. It wasn’t that she disliked the sudden attention. She simply was not used to it. Especially in public. The day was proving to be an amalgamation of ‘firsts’ for her. “Not nearly enough, and don’t call me Honey.” Narrowing her eyes at her unexpectedly voracious lover, she couldn’t help but crack an elated smile, untangling herself before the store-clerk decided to cut in. Gathering her things from the dressing stall, she sorted out the items she didn’t like- hesitating when she shuffled through the red pair.

“Ready, elf?” The store clerk, currently manning the counter, prompted her. Agitation was clear on the woman’s face, unhappy with the couple’s behavior around the merchandise.

Morgana slid the red pair, along with the others, into the no-go pile. She didn’t trust her ability to do justice to the garment, deciding that color was a lost cause. Presenting a fat leather pouch of coin to the clerk, she leaned over the counter to offer a friendly smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be. Just the black one, please.” She said, gesturing the one she was wearing. The counter was a bit high, despite her petiteness. Her breasts pooled over the edge of the counter, as if to emphasize this fact. The woman seemed to take note of this, snorting lightly, and cracking a small grin.

“Just take the red one.” The woman pushed the red pair over the counter. Morgana made a funny face, furrowing her brows at the awkwardly tall woman.

“No, really. Red isn’t my color.” The elf laughed off her suggestion, waving in an attempt to decline.

The dark-skinned woman raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Xeno. “I have a feeling the wolf-man would like it.”

Morgana flushed at her comment, shifting in awkward silence, before dipping into her gold pouch. “I guess… I’ll take it then.”

The woman nodded curtly in approval, folding the clothes neatly into a cloth bag, before continuing the transaction. She could be surprisingly pleasant when offered patronage. Shoving her old clothes into the bag, Morgana thanked the woman before gesturing to Xeno that they leave.

“Now that I have some proper clothes, we can get to the good stuff.” The crowds were thinning out as the rush hour dimmed. Access to the main shopping street was eased into more amicable herds, allowing the two to stroll beside storefronts at a comfortable pace.

As they exited the clothing shoppe, the woman grumbled under her breath. “Damned elves. Always so racked.”

The elf in question hardly noticed the comment, too busy scanning the marketplace for an armory. “Weapons.” She grinned squeezing Xeno’s arm and pointing to the nearest brick establishment. Sparrow Armor and Weaponry, the sign read. Reckless, and quick to excite, Morgana maneuvered through the stampedes and dove straight into the open door of the shoppe. Her eyes glittered like a young cub on its first hunt, taking in the massive display of new play toys.

The walls boasted a variety of heavy-set weapons, including large axes and broadswords- as well as other, more finely made weapons such as whips and flails. Swarmed with a fair number of customers, the shop was nearly as lively as a tavern. She browsed the display case of short-knives and daggers, brimming with enthusiasm.

“So, you’ve finally paid a visit.” A familiar voice simpered from behind the counter, shocking her. Her eyes flickered up to meet a pair of striking, storm grey. With a rabbit ear folded forward, and a sly grin, she recognized the man to be Jynx. He was the animal-kind she’d played cards with, the other night. His silver hair was neatly maintained, matching the fur of his ears that she couldn’t make out in the candlelight of the tavern.

“I didn’t expect it to be so busy. You’ve got quite the selection.” She replied amiably, rocking back onto her heels with verve. It was nice to know a familiar face in a foreign city.

“You underestimate me, woman.” He chuckled, sliding around the counter. “It’s called Sparrow for a reason. We’re the quickest to smith, trade, and import the latest weaponry and armor. Popular for Colosseum-goers like yourself.” The rabbit winked, crossing his legs elegantly and leaning into the glass display. For a moment, she dared to wonder if he had a tail, resisting the urge to peer around and catch a glimpse.

“If that’s the case, I’m sure a lot of people talk about the Colosseum within your shoppe.” She quirked a brow, placing a hand on her hip expectantly.

“They do.” He conceded, his ear twitching with mirth.

“And, have they said anything about any contestants?” She pressed, ready to hear the town gossip. She was itching to know what the audience members were buzzing about, hoping to gain intel on her opponents.

“Yes. Namely a certain female elf.” Jynx toyed with the subject, never truly letting on any information. Morgana scowled at him, tapping her foot in anticipation. Rolling his eyes half-heartedly, he continued. “People have been over their heads about the girl who tamed the man-eating tiger. I can’t blame them. I saw the match, myself. And I found the show… very entertaining.” His cool eyes drifted over her full frame, licking his lips in a hedonistic manner. The elf remained oblivious to this, as her features glistened with pride.

“Really? So they like me?” The girl clapped her hands together at this revelation, ecstatic that she was being viewed by the masses in a positive light. Jynx burst out into laughter at her comment, taken aback by the naivety of the girl.

“Like, fear, there’s a mixture of both- I’d say.” He shrugged. “Ah, which reminds me.” His ears shot up, his hands gesturing for her to stay put as he rummaged behind the counter. “We just received these this morning.” Out from one of the crates behind the counter, he pulled out a set of thinly cut metal. She had trouble making out what exactly the mechanism was for, stretching up on her tippy toes for a better view.

“What is that?” She demanded, gripping the edge of the counter to stop herself from swiping at it. It was shiny, sharp, and screamed new toy. Unfolding the tangents of the contraption, he grazed one of her hands with his own- coaxing it away from the countertop and into his palm. At first, his touch didn’t register. She was preoccupied with the interesting weapon now being attached to her hand, mesmerized by the concept. It was a sharp, metal extension of her fingers. Acting as claws that would bend and slice with her every movement.

“You’re very… animal-like.” He murmured, swiping his thumb in a light caress over her wrist as he worked to fasten the skeletal attachment into place. “So nimble, when you fight.” He held her wrist for a moment, examining the fit before releasing her. “They’re called Silver Talons. Some like to call them slashers, for short. But I thought they might suit you.” He said in a low voice, speaking as if they were the only two people in the shoppe. Morgana wiggled her fingers, bending and flexing to test the blade’s movements. She was eager to share her new discovery with Xeno, glancing back to find him at the entrance to the shoppe.

Biting her lip, she nodded for him to join her- displaying her weaponized hand to him with a gleeful expression. Jynx sidestepped around the counter once more, taking a position behind her as he directed her to try on the other set of talons. Casually brushing a hand down her arm, his other hand moved to guide her with the fastenings. Morgana instantly flinched at his sudden closeness, making an effort to put space between them. “I can figure it out myself, thanks.” She denied his assistance in the most polite way she could manage.

“I’m sure you can. But I wouldn’t want you to injure those pretty little hands.” He answered smoothly. “There are talons for the feet, as well.” The rabbit pulled out another, slightly larger set of blades. Kneeling down, he took her left foot. One of his hands slid up her calf, holding her leg up as he slipped her elfin foot into the talons. Enamored by the new addition, she once again became oblivious to his subtle advances. She was infatuated with the idea of being able to hunt her prey like Naga, or Vatu would.

“How much?” She inquired, grinning down at the rabbit. His lips curled complacently, hesitating before he divulged the price tag.

“I could do three hundred for the set.” Dusting off his trousers, he stood.

Morgana surveyed him, puckering her lips while she skepticised his offer. “This is dwarvish metal. Possibly crucible steel. It’s at least worth five.” Perplexed by his low-ball offer, she unfastened herself out of the blades.

“Call it a favor. If you win next match, I’ll get plenty return to pay for the difference.” Jynx’s lips split into a knowing smirk, packing the slashers away into a wooden lock box. “They’re all yours, sugar.”

Morgana rolled her eyes dramatically, tapping her payment onto the counter. “I’m not sweet. Trust me.” She scoffed.

“Oh, I know. You can be a nasty little thing, after you smoked me in cards the other night.”

“You could say I’m a devil.” She shrugged comically, taking the box into her hands.
 
“Easy, Beastie.”

Xeno's tail swirled impatiently, but he stood down, grumbling under his breath. The shopkeeper was giving them a dirty look too, so he was pressed to obey, if only to avoid any annoyances. He pulled away from her, letting her figure out the prices and what she would buy for herself, leaning against a wall, crossing his arms over his chest. Part of him heard the two women talk, with Morgana stating she would take just one of the outfits and the woman suggesting she took another. His ears pulled back in curiosity at the mention of a 'wolf-man', no doubt himself, but only that. Probably something about him having less-than-tasteful likes or something. Everyone always had a thing or two to say about him, and it was never anything kind or encouraging. He had learned to deafen himself to such statements, his eyes naturally closing serenely as he waited for the two to finish with their transaction.

When she was finally done with it, Morgana spoke to him again, suggesting they moved on. The man nodded, neither pleased or annoyed. Clothes, shopping, all of that made no sense to him. Investing, paying for services, sometimes bribing people, that was the use to money that he was most familiar with. A king had no use for doing business with the commonwealth; he took what he needed and let others sort out the small details. Morgana, however, seemed much more interested in these trivial affairs. He didn't understand it, but he didn't need to.

The man rolled his eyes as he was yet again jerked along to another establishment, reluctantly following steps behind the elven woman. Great, lots of people. As if the flooded streets of the city weren't enough of an annoyance, he was subjected to the equivalent of a dingy, dead-end bar at one of Karindo's bigger cities. Men and women all gossiped and fooled around, talking shop amongst themselves of the quality or non-quality of the merchandise that they inspected. The store itself was nothing special, quite barely capable of being called a store with how unclean and poorly-maintained it was. It reeked of sweat, as well, his sensitive nose would note for him, the smell rotten under the guise of tempered steel and iron. How Morgana could even be remotely excited to come into this place, he couldn't imagine.

He stood at the very edge of the store, ready to bail as soon as the woman was done with whatever she had to do in here. He watched her from afar, making sure to be attentive of her in case she needed help or an opinion, with his field of expertise more suited for this kind of shopping, but the level of this establishment far below his interest. The price tags were way above what the quality of the weaponry were worth. The make of the hilts, the armguards, the blades, made it quite obvious that they would only last about two or three months at the maximum. Still, it wasn't his place to say a word, lest he was asked to.

Morgana beckoned him to join her and he did so begrudgingly, no more eager to walk further into the dirty shop than he was to risk getting food poisoning back at the inn. He inspected the weapon that was displayed to him, his expression thoroughly unimpressed, but obliged to make at least a comment of it. "They look... fun." He said before looking back up to the rabbit as he walked around the counter and got a bit too close for Xeno to be comfortable with. He took a step back, not wanting to spoil Morgana's fun right after finding a new toy, but ever watchful of the man. He growled under his breath, giving the man fair warning, something that most people had little luxury of. When he didn't take the hint and continued being handsy with Morgana, Xeno decided he had asked for it. Obviously, the man waited till they were done with their trade, one that was quite stilted in Morgana's favor, before stepping in.

"Hey, bunny-man," He hissed, grabbing a pair of steel-cuffed boots from a nearby shelf. "How much would you say these go for? I need a new pair." Xeno's mood quickly turned from quiet rage to a mischievous, dangerous glare, his lips tilting upwards into a smirk that betrayed his intentions. His brow furrowed in faux-irritation, "I seemed to have stepped on desert cat shit. Oh! Mind checking for me?" And before the man could react, Xeno's sole was planted on the man's slimy face, slamming the back of his head against the counter. He rubbed the foot of his boot on the man's face, pulling away for a moment only to repeat the process, nailing his head on the counter a good three more times before he was satisfied. Oh, but he wasn't satisfied. He turned to Morgana, his anger momentarily directed at her. She had allowed this bastard to touch her. "Not a word from you." He ordered before reaching down to grab the man by his long ears.

He lifted him off the ground, his rage palpable but controlled as he stared into the man's eyes. "You best not try something like that again, or you'll find out that the market for rabbit-kind ears is quite profitable. I've heard orcs are pretty big fans of the taste, and I know an orc or two."

With that serving as his warning, he tossed the man, disgusted by the idea of his hands touching him. "We're done here." He said, turning around on his foot and walking out of the shop without another word.
 
Bewilderment colored the princess’s features, as the perfectly peaceful shoppe became the center of a one-sided brawl. If it even could be called that. The Beast writhed within Xeno, surfacing to bare its brutal fangs. She clutched the box in her hands, watching with a perturbing avidity as the bloody scene unfolded before her. At first, she couldn’t even begin to understand the origins of Xeno’s animosity. She’d thought the rabbit to be perfectly friendly, even offering her tailored suggestions as she browsed the weaponry. She was even more baffled by his rage, directed towards her sometime between bashing the rabbit’s face and nearly ripping his ears off. You best not try something like that again. He’d warned the man, as he knocked him around senselessly with utter rage- and little effort. Recognizing his vexation to be jealousy, Morgana gawked openly, incredulous at his livid reaction. Again, she replayed the last few moments in her head. An immediate, internal disquiet erupted from her stomach. She tensed at the memory of the rabbit’s unsolicited touches, recalling her discomfort masked by trivial excitement and naivety. She felt foolish at being unaware to his repulsive advances, taking mild pleasure in the scene of Xeno grinding his face under his boot.

His roughness triggered another earlier memory, resurfacing from the bowels of her dream-tainted conscious. It swept over her mind and clouded reality, as she was consumed by the memory of The Beast. Under an onyx night, trapped underneath his careful rage, as he tore into her virtuous body. Shocked back to the scene of the weapon-shoppe, she felt a horrible sense of desire wash over her. Disturbed by her own body and wayward thoughts, she followed after Xeno wordlessly. Trailing beside him, she was quiet until the crowds thinned. They walked near empty alleyways and further away from the shoppes, the atmosphere thick with the Beast’s fury.

“What the hell did I do?” The girl snipped, miffed by his current avoidance of her. A pout was lingering on her lips, her eyes cast downward as she continued to mourn absence of his attention. She hated when he was angry with her. Even more so when he was distant from her. She could hardly stand the situation, angered by her own incompetence. Never caring for romantic endeavors had led her to be quite ignorant of its forefathers; namely flirting. She kicked at the dust, looking elsewhere as she verbalized a yielding apology.

“I’m sorry, okay?” Halting in her footsteps, she tugged at the edge of his tunic peering up at him with a wary meekness. “I’m yours, you know.” It was the first time she was saying this aloud, generating a chill down her spine. “Please, don’t be angry…” She plead, facing him as she ran a hand up his chest. “I’m naïve, and foolish at times. I’m sorry I wasn’t the one to kick his skull in.” Admitting to her faults, she raised her other hand to lie on his chest, adding to her plea for exoneration. “I can be very apologetic. And I don’t think I can live with you ignoring me.” If she had ears, they would surely be drooping in the most melancholy of ways.

“If you give me enough time…” She took him by the hand, leading him into one of the nearby deserted alleyways. It wasn’t completely concealing, but a bit of magic would do the trick. Morgana lowered herself to her knees resting her cheek against his inner thigh as a form of submission. “I can apologize more thoroughly.” Her face was dangerously close to his manhood, her eyes pleading as she peered up at him beneath dark lashes. “I’m all yours.” She repeated, raising a thin barrier of magic around the two of them. She was rusty in this type of sorcery, hoping that it would hold in the midst of whatever came to transpire. Still, she remained guilt ridden with images of her fantasy filtering in- as if the circumstance were a vessel to carry out her deranged wishes. With all of her might, she pushed these thoughts into the deepest caverns of her mind, along with the disturbingly pleasant images of his violent jealousy. “Please,” she begged, batting her eyelashes.
 
He was not just some beast that moved on instinct; Xeno understood that he had been excessive, unnecessary in his punishment toward the rabbit, but he had never felt as disgusted as he did as he watched the man touch his princess so freely, and how she allowed it without even a word of disapproval. He had felt betrayed, after all of her talk of them being mates, how she had come to his room to clear up the nature of their relationship. He would've liked to kill the man, to be honest, but anything more than what he had done would have probably brought onto them unwanted attention. As he walked down the street, Xeno repeated this to himself, that he had only spared the man because he didn't want to be noticed by scoundrels and the all-seeing eye of the Queen of the Badlands. It was the only thing that kept him sane as silence took over the atmosphere between the two.

He knew she hadn't done it on purpose. She had, until now, been uninterested in the concept of love, of romance, so of course she wouldn't know when a guy was flirting with her, but he couldn't just get rid of these emotions he'd never experienced before. “I’m sorry, okay?” She was the first to break the deathly silence, though it would have been her no matter how long it persisted. He looked over his shoulder to her, his brows furrowed in vexation and curiosity as the intonation of her voice, the way it twisted with a tinge of regret, reeled him in. “I’m yours, you know.” "She's all mine," he had said the day before, a mix of truth and the lie he'd fabricated to keep them on the down low. To hear it from her, however, was something else. It brought a shiver down his spine, the pleasant kind. ". . ." He turned around to face her, speechless, wondering where she was going with this. No normal apology would make him feel better. Words were only worth their weight in gold, though her particular choice of words was pleasing to his ears. His hands rested at his sides, unwilling to grant her the touches he'd smothered her with earlier, his gaze impassive, cold. He could tell she was genuinely regretful and though that would've been enough to appease him, he decided to keep his lips shut, wondering how far she was willing to go with this. He would be lying if he said he didn't like this turn of events at least a little.

He followed after her as she lead them to an out-of-the-way alley, only the occasional passerby coming through. No one would bother them here, but he had to wonder why she would bring them here. A few ideas floated on his mind, but none stuck. “I can apologize more thoroughly.” The Beast gulped hard, salivating at the proposition, at what her position suggested, promised. Her offer sounded delicious. He cursed himself for his simple-mindedness, but he couldn't turn her down while she looked so innocent, on her knees, in front of his organ, begging to be let out. His breath was shaky as he let it out, biting on his lower lip, his bangs obscuring his eyes, full of hunger for her. How could he be angry at this girl, who was so willing to discard her pride to keep him happy? “Please,” "Show it." He finally broke, his voice coming out as a grumble, a whisper. He brought his hand to the zipper of his pants, unmaking his belt and letting his lowerwear drop, his flaccid but impressive manhood in full display for her. He reached down to grab at the top of her head, his fingers wrapping around his organ and poking at her lips. "Show me that you're sorry. Show me that you're mine. If I am sufficiently pleased by your performance, I'll forgive you."

He licked at his fangs as he made her look up at him, his domineering gaze staring her down, wicked in its scrutiny of her. At the same time, he kicked the box away, somewhere he wouldn't have to look at it. "You'll have to work hard if you want to remain my princess, Morgana..."
 
Riotous plumes of regret drew blood into her cheeks, dressed with an expression of repentance. Warmth, both guilt-driven and lust-stained, roiled off her body. The bizarreness of her mind was growing to rapid heights. Only the man above her could act as the stimulus, coaxing her into pure insanity as raw as it was divine. Her need for him was fatally addictive, drowning her under a sea of emotions she could hardly understand. It was difficult to breathe, being suffocated by the numerous feeling pervading her aura. Lust webbed together with a vile, aching emotion. Something dark, a craving she couldn’t quite place. It flared under the presence of her nightmares, and lashed out to reach the Beast standing over her. She released a small whimper of relief as his fingers knotted into her hair. The gentle sting was a comfort, filling her with his presence that she so desperately craved. Her lips parted with fervor to take him into her mouth, closing her eyes as even his flaccid length managed to overwhelm her. Eager, but aware of the barrier she was responsible for maintaining, she moved slowly- working her tongue in its naturally wicked patterns against the underside of his shaft.

Her hands shifted to clasp behind her back, reminiscent of a shackled bind. She was intending to strengthen her focus on the outer wall of magic, fighting to keep composure while she salivated over the Beast’s cock. “Mmf!” She muffled a small, erotic sound by taking him deeper into her throat. Resisting the urge to gag, she swallowed the entirety of his length, her lips curled around the base whilst her tongue caressed the underside. Her eyes rolled upwards to meet his gaze, struggling to hide her obsessive lust for him. Releasing him from her mouth, she gasped for air, a mixture of precum and saliva dripping off her swollen lips. “I thought I would always be your princess…” She pouted, laying kisses along the side of his cock, rubbing her cheek against it slightly. “Punish me, just… let me stay as your princess.” The pleas tumbled from her lips before she absorbed his length once more, fervently sucking in her own creative ways. Using the way her throat contracted around him, or maneuvering her lewd tongue, her demonic assets never made an appearance. She would please him as his woman, without any other assistance except that of her own eroticism and skill. This time she did not dare to graze a fang against his manhood, somehow feeling as though it was offensive to her… her owner. The thought struck her, her eyes whirling verdant green as she peeked up at him with a look that begged ‘own me.’ She craved pain, possession, and affection that only he could provide her with. It was a strange desire to submit, and simultaneously be dominated by the man she adored.

Sliding his cock in ways evocative of when he’d fucked her mouth, she forced the tip to penetrate her cheek every so often- careful to avoid her teeth. She popped the length out from between her lips, resuming her worship as she laid wet, but neatly placed kisses over the head. “Tell me I belong to you.” The girl panted, desperate to hear him affirm his ownership of her. She didn’t like the thought of ever not being his princess. Of not being his kitten, his lover, his mate. She couldn’t stand it. The barrier flickered, warning her of her break in focus. Tightening her magical efforts around the force field, she closed her eyes and swallowed him up again. Fill me, don’t let me forget what this feels like. She beseeched within the privacy of her thoughts, dancing with the wanton darkness that now consumed her brain.

She imagined how deeply she wished for the hues of violet to stain her flesh. How badly she wanted to feel the sting of his hands in her hair. How, above all else, she wanted the love imbued with each bite, each kiss bestowed upon her sinful lips. Oh, gods, she adored him in the most wicked of ways.
 
Her very existence spelled frustration for him. Her beauty, her innocence, the way she looked up to him, as if he was the center of her world. Because he was the center of her world. It was all maddening, all unknown to him. He couldn't bear the weight of her passion when she looked up at him like that, when she took him in her mouth without hesitation, despite the girl's purity, her virtue. The girl who had defied him so dearly in the beginning now begged for his forgiveness, kneeled to him and worshipped him as if he was her god, her soft, gorgeous lips wrapped around his organ, the very sensation of her throat sending shocks throughout his body. He pulled his head back, leaning against the wall, his fingers digging into her scalp while his other hand searched for something to grip onto. He found only the walls, his claws scratching at them, fingertips bruising with the sheer force in which he tried to grip at them.

Xeno's thorough experience with women could not prepare him for the things Morgana made him feel. It wasn't the first time he'd had his cock sucked by any means, but the way the inexperienced elf managed to take him in entirely by herself was impressive. The Beast King would've commended her, if he wasn't so busy groaning his immense approval of her motions, the sensation of her walls squeezing him making his eyes roll back just slightly, his legs jolting as he felt his strength leaving him for just a moment. It took every bit of restraint in him to keep himself from violating her mouth like he had done two nights before. Letting her do it on her own pace was far more gratifying. As she popped him out of her mouth, he gazed down to her, meeting her lustful, submissive gaze with his own, ambers glazed over with pleasure. Pleasure she was not giving him in that moment. Yet the way she adoringly placed kisses on his manhood threatened to throw him over the edge. "Oh, you cruel little thing..." He muttered under his breath, the words rolling off his tongue as she popped him back into her mouth. She asked to stay as his princess with those pleading eyes of hers, and she knew he couldn't deny her. He couldn't not spoil her. He licked at his lips, a long, pleasured sigh leaving him as she brought him ever closer to his limits with her tender but eager movements.

"Naughty girl." He growled between clenched teeth, grabbing firmly at her head, hips moving to match her. She was driving him crazy! Him, a man infamous for bedding any and every woman he fancied, obsessed over this elf princess. His elf princess. His little devil. Her mouth was heavenly, despite promising him clear visions of hell. She was his salvation, and yet also his destruction, promising all kinds pleasure and torture all at the same time. “Tell me I belong to you.” "You belong to me. You belong to me and no one else, Morgana. Nobody's allowed to touch you, to look at you the way that I do. Your body, your heart, your soul, they all belong to me!" He roared as he reached his limit, releasing his essence directly into Morgana's small, tender throat. He came plentifully, too, so much so that the girl would definitely be feeling quite full if she swallowed it all.

When he was done, he pulled himself from her mouth, his manhood falling between his legs, just as flaccid as it was when she had popped it into her mouth. He panted for a few seconds, his heartbeat wild from the rush. He reached down to hold her chin between his fingers. "My princess sure knows how to apologize, doesn't she? I forgive you." He said, reaching down to pull his pants back up, patting himself to make sure that it looked like nothing had happened. "Come on, we still have things to do, don't we, kitten?"
 
Flame tinged her being, slithering through the nerves at her center, alighting them with venomous pleasure. The act of submitting was only one part to the aphrodisiac that now racked her body. Indulging in the way he filled her delicate mouth, scraping along the surface of her tongue, and plunging into the wettened depth of her throat. She was tormented by a new fire, dripping from her core in the state of arousal. It hadn’t been the first time she’d felt riled by this. Only a couple nights before, she’d nearly reached orgasm whilst he ravaged her mouth. Hyper aware at her absence of underwear, the dampness proceeded to leak down her thighs. She forced herself to focus on the magical barrier, rather than the way her thighs began to tremble with need.

“Oh, you cruel little thing…” The man above her hissed under his breath, her stomach doing somersaults at his choice in diction. The darkness flared, crackling over her misted consciousness. Images of a beast bore its terrifying, victorious grin. Moments of her dream eclipsed with reality, wrenching its origins to the surface and ruining any hope of denial. It painted the palace of Karindo, where she’d been circled by the beast. Bared, and savored when he raked his claws over her. Amid the grandeur of his throne room, even then, he’d been hunting her.

“Naughty girl.” Replicated with the same, brutal growl- he ripped the reins from her control. He was fucking her mouth, the tethers of her sanity withering away with each thrust.

Cruel, little thing…

Naughty girl.

It unearthed the memory that truly fractured her break in normalcy. In sanity. Under the desert sun, hidden away in their small shared tent. Her demon rose, and the Beast emerged, commanding his claim over her virgin body. He ripped her panties down her thighs, fully intending to take her by force. She was about to be raped by him, and yet she sunk into a disturbed sense of pleasure. He’d done the same in her dreams, tugging away her underthings with little remorse- ready to feast on her. There was something wrong with her.

Mouthfuls of his seed graced her tongue, the taste of him ringing her back to the present. She was comforted by his affirmations, and the meal that now coated her stomach. However, it still was not enough to quell the sudden shift in her psyche. Disappointed that she was unable to continue, she’d hoped for a distraction against the alarming desires nestled in her dream. Xeno lifted her chin, cradled by his thumb and forefinger as he praised her. Had her tail been out, it would have been swaying rapidly. She merely purred in response, a sound that was far more animalistic than she even knew she could muster.

Dusting herself off, she rose to her feet. Her tongue darted over her lips to gather any remaining evidence of their scandalous tryst, before dropping the barrier. Sliding her arms around his neck, she pecked a kiss to his jaw, smiling complacently in a small afterglow. “Xeno,” she piped up, debating on whether or not to address the contents of her morning dream. He was the closest thing she’d ever had to a human friend, suggesting that it would be natural to trust him with advice. But he was also her lover, and she felt horrified at the thought of disgusting him. Or worse- losing him. Chewing on her lip, she chose to veer subjects. “I still have yet to buy some underpinnings… perhaps it would please you to select them for me?” She proposed, happy to offer a riveting distraction to her troubling fantasies.

Unwilling to damper his mood, she’d taken the liberty of manifesting the box over to the inn. It wasn’t all that far, and was a minimal bout of magic to transport a small item. The bag of clothes, however, she’d continue to guard closely at her side. She wasn’t quite ready for him to see that red outfit, worried he’d mock her if he caught sight of it. “Hmm..” She hummed pleasantly, nuzzling into his throat. It was an effort to keep herself there, standing on the very tips of her toes. “I’m yours.” She purred once more, basking in the truth of those words.
 
He'd noticed her acting strangely ever since she'd woken up, her demeanor, though playful, seemed a bit like she was hiding something, like she didn't want to talk about it. His mind went back to her writhing in her sleep, an uneasy yet tempting expression on her face. He'd seen that same expression on the faces of women he'd laid to sleep out of exhaustion, women that would speak of their dreams to him the night after. They would flush when they mentioned him, how his touch had been imprinted deep in their mind. He'd always found it cute of them to open up about it, smiling to himself as he was enlightened of their deep desire for him. It came to him that maybe she was the same, but found it strange that she wouldn't even hint at it, her mouth sealed as she gulped down the last bits of his essence into her stomach. There was a chill down his spine when he realized she had drank down all of it without a word of complaint.

Her expression had him wondering who it was that really was got off from their little adventure, even as he still felt aftershocks of pleasure. “Xeno,” she said and he turned to look at her, just before he walked out of the alleyway with her. There was a long pause between her uttering of his name and her next set of words, leading him to believe that she was undecided on what she truly wanted to say. He understood that she had secrets she had the right to keep, but it frustrated him slightly to think that she didn't want to trust him with what was going on in her mind. "Sure. I have a good idea of what will suit those clothes of yours. Though I like the way you're going too..." He muttered, pushing the girl against the wall right before they walked out of the alleyway, shoving an invasive hand between her legs. He was surprised to find her flooded, his fingers immediately drenched as he rubbed her slit with the slightest of motions. "These lips down here seem a bit jealous, too..." Xeno brought his hands to his lips, licking himself clean of Morgana's lewd fluids.

Freeing her from his grasp, Xeno walked out of the alley finally, wrapping his arm around the elven woman's waist, enjoying the closeness between them, a smug, pleasant expression on his face as they walked down the street, relishing in the stares they brought to themselves. Them, as a couple, together, and not as him, Xeno the King, and her, Morgana the Princess, but as lovers joined together. “I’m yours.” She purred to him and only to him, her voice warm and tender as it washed over him, leaving him with a feeling of contentment. "Yes, and that's why..." He stopped, grabbing her by the hips and lifting her up in the air so that their faces met and he could look her directly in the eyes. There were countless people staring at them as he did this, but none that he cared for. "That's why you should tell me... about your dream this morning. You've been keeping it to yourself all day long and it's driving me crazy wondering why you don't want to tell me about it..."
 
A wave of calm placated over her disastrous mind. Void of clarity, she relished the errand that Xeno had agreed to- knowing it would divert any deviant thoughts. At least, the ones she wished to avoid. Ready to rejoin the rest of the public, she neared the end of the alleyway. She followed closely behind him. Though, just before the light hit the brickwork, she was shoved against a wall of sandstone. Dazed from the impact, the bricks dug into the exposed flesh of her shoulders and back. It was rough against the skin, eliciting a small sting from between the strands of hair that protected her. Blinking openly at the Beast who had attacked her, she was faced with a pair of burning amber eyes. Her jaw dropped, her lips snapped apart by a sharp gasp as his hand pushed between her legs. The purity of her face was etched in lustful agony, florid under the revelation of her arousal. She wanted to both hide, and beg. The elf pressed her lips together to bar any noise from escaping. Her cries threatened to echo out into the streets, bound to alert the whole city. She only prayed that no one would bear witness to their debauched exchange. His fingers mocked her soaked core, withdrawing to display the proof of her lechery. They were coated in her juices, being lapped up by the wolf as if she were an afternoon treat. She offered no response to his provocation, except a broken whimper.

Satisfied with his revelation, he cleaned himself off- sliding an arm around her waist as he guided them back to the main shopping district. It took her a moment to regain composure, finally walking in unison with the Beast’s long strides. Freed of her convictions, she settled into the closeness of their gait, assuming she’d been released of all charges. The peace only lasted so long, her innocence foolish as it was brief. Coming to a complete halt, the Beast snatched her by the hips. “Eeep!” She squealed, being lifted from the ground and equal to his eye-level. In an attempt to brace herself, she pressed her hands to his chest- worried she might fall. Her reflexes were normally above-par. But not when her body was as vulnerable as it was.

“That's why you should tell me... about your dream this morning. You've been keeping it to yourself all day long and it's driving me crazy wondering why you don't want to tell me about it.” The wolf man was concrete in his sincerity. The gesture spoke not only of his desire to understand (and terminate all chances of her escape)- but of how deeply he valued her. He’d made the effort to place her on equal eye-level, as if to reaffirm the fact that they were equals. Though the Beast was not a man of many words, this was his way of saying ‘talk to me’.

Her lips parted emptily for a few seconds, forming silent words of excuse. Yet she knew better than to ignore his efforts. The man’s hardened heart could be surprisingly tender. “I…how did you…?” She uttered the question incoherently. “Oh!” She blushed, gritting her teeth as she muttered in annoyance. “Stupid mating bond.” She grumbled a few more sounds of discontent, expressing her dislike for his perceptive nature. Morgana covered her face in embarrassment, grateful, at least, that he wasn’t aware enough to have actually seen the dream.

Insisting to have herself planted onto the ground again, she acquiesced to answering him. “It’s… not exactly something I can speak of in public.” She confessed, her cheeks burning as she shifted uncomfortably in her skin. The sun melted into the sky, dying the sands in persimmon and scarlet. The day was nearing its demise, giving way to navy, speckled night. In their time there, she’d happened upon an area that often cleared out closer to sunset. There was a fountain, busy during the afternoon- though its tourism faded during the evening. Few wished to be near water when the sands grew cold, as the desert climate went. She took Xeno by the hand, the contact a bit cheesy to her, as she guided him around the corner of the street and into a reasonably abandoned square. The fountain was built with the same beige-colored stone, with a noticeable theme of vipers circling its design. Paying little attention to the details, she perched herself on the fountain’s edge. The area wasn’t all that busy, a few passerby citizens coming into view every now and then.

It felt completely idiotic, to have brought him several blocks away from the marketplace. Though, forgive her if she wanted a change of scenery other than the busy streets of the town. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.” She groaned, running her hands through her hair. A habitual motion of stress. “There’s something… wrong with me.” Morgana’s soft, cerulean eyes cut to him. The rings of her irises quivered with worry, swelling and ebbing in oceanic hues. “At first, I was sure it was a nightmare. It was so vivid. My heart was pattering like a drum. Sweat clung to my skin, and I was covered in the scent of fear. And then there was a creature. It whispered the very same…” She paused, averting her gaze elsewhere as she recalled their entanglement moments ago. “Things, as you did before.” One of her hands gripped the lip of the fountain, her fingers dug into the stone as if they could bring her comfort. “It ripped into my clothes, and cornered me until it- …until you took me.” She shuddered, her face flooding a peculiar crimson. “I’m so twisted that I enjoyed it.”

She let the confession hang in the air for awhile, her toes pressing into the sand. “When we were in that tent. When you were about to…” She didn’t have the courage to say the word aloud, omitting it from her sentence. “I think I wanted you to.” Gnawing on the plush petal of her bottom lip, her hands flew to cover the shameful expression emerging on her face. “I had a dream that you raped me, and I liked it.”

Her shoulders raised as if she could curl up and disappear. “I get off on brutality, and pain- and I sure as hell know that wasn’t your average woman’s aphrodisiac.” Morgana hid herself away from his reaction, anxious that he would be repulsed by her desires.
 
“I…how did you…?”

...

“Stupid mating bond.”

"You know, you're not as good at hiding things as you think yourself to be..." Xeno tilted his head, ears pulling back as he raised a brow quizzically. Elves were known to be troublesome secret keepers, a stereotype perpetrated by the stupidly honest animalkind who could not keep one for the life of them. Or at least, that's what they made other people think, but they were often so secretive themselves, knowing that the secret (no pun intended) to keeping a secret was to cover it up with another one, which was why they would often blabber on about things they shouldn't in attempts to divert the attention from what they really wanted to hide. On the other side of the coin, animalkind were so perceptive of others, like a sixth sense, that trying to keep secrets amongst themselves was simply not possible. Even if they didn't know what the other person was hiding, they knew they were hiding something. And animalkind could be relentless. Xeno himself was exceptionally good at it, as he had found out early in his life.

He let the girl down to her feet gingerly, his figure towering over hers as he waited patiently for her admission of what was torturirng her so agonizingly in her mind. His tail swayed impatiently for her to speak up, his expression sour and shoulders slumping when she told him she didn't want to talk about it in front of all these people. Fair enough, he would admit, given the fact that everyone had practically stopped to watch the pair. He grumbled at their natural beauty as a couple, cursing the fact that they would most definitely be the talk of the town with how handsome and beautiful they were together. Xeno followed after her begrudgingly, growling in annoyance all the way till they found a place they could talk properly in, without worrying about being eavesdropped. The man let his hand dip into the water, bringing what he could scavenge from the fountain into his mouth. Turned out walking around under the desert sun all day could make one thirsty as all hell. Who would've thought?

Xeno watched the few people still straggling about the square, finishing up whatever business they still had, until Morgana spoke up again, demanding his full attention. He tilted his head curiously at the woman as she groaned, confused as to why she would be so apprehensive about talking with him about the things that troubled her. He would have thought himself reliable enough that she didn't have to worry about anything when he was around, be it a physical problem or an ideal one. “There’s something… wrong with me.” She said, causing Xeno's ears to perk up. He would have started to speak, to find out just why she would come to such a conclusion by herself, but he let her talk, listening intently as she described a scene that, indeed, sounded like a nightmare. But the more she spoke of it, the less it seemed like the contents of the dream were what disturbed her, and the thing that troubled her was her reaction to the affair. She spoke of him... taking her, but it wasn't quite clear in what way she meant it. Kidnapped her? Killed her? Or perhaps...

The thought of it was too wild for him to seriously entertain. There was no way she was talking about...? But... She was. As she recalled their quick exchange in the tent on their way here, when he had found his patience drawing thinner, she painted a clearer picture for him. He gulped, finding his lips to have become dry, a sweatdrop falling from his temple and down his chin.

“I had a dream that you raped me, and I liked it.”

She was that kind of girl. It all seemed clearer now. The look she had given him as he threatened to strip her of her virtue was not one of defiance, but one begging for it. He had stopped because, in his mind, to violate her would've meant losing their little game of chase, but it hadn't been like that at all. It made perfect sense now. "There's nothing wrong with you, Morgana." He said, noticing he had fallen into deep silence as he recalled her signals vividly. Oh, how he wished he hadn't been as thick-skulled now. He was, vexingly, hard again, after hearing her revelation. Her apology had been for naught now, leaving the man with a desperate need for release. He put his hand over hers, letting his face hover over hers. "You're... a masochist." He said, the words producing a chill down his spine. He'd violated women before, mostly assassins and other annoyances who dared to think he was an easy kill, but he had never actually met a woman who had such fantasies. The Beast salivated at the possibilities. At the things he could do to her, how he could abuse her disposition to pain.

"Oh, Morgana..." He sighed, light-headed in his lust. She had just opened up so many things for him that he couldn't properly handle it. His lips ghosted over her neck, his fangs nipping at the flesh, a hand over her drenched thigh. Just the thought that he could pin her to the ground right here and violate her, and that she would get off it made him insane. So much so that he couldn't believe he wasn't grabbing the girl by the hair and slamming her on all fours right this moment. "You really were made for me..."

Perhaps she had expected him to be disgusted at the revelation, but it was quite the opposite. He was elated by her admittance, by her honesty, by her willingness to tell him of such wretched fantasies. "I think... we should finish with your shopping before I turn your fantasies into reality right this moment..."
 
It devoured all logic, silence dripping over the atmosphere in a thick tar. It was suffocating, threatening to swallow her up whole. The facets of her mind were buzzing loudly under the quiet evening. Thoughts zipped in contradictive directions, battling for domain. I’m a spoiled woman, she thought hopelessly. How could a King desire a vessel of damaged goods? Her ponderings multiplied into nauseating bacteria, scurrying about her head to wreak havoc. She just wanted to disappear. She couldn’t bear to hear his rejection of her. Maybe he’d just leave. But where would he go? Back to the tavern. Oh no. Maybe he’d set his sights back on Windry, the human barmaid. Oh goddess, no.

She was spiraling into despair at all the possibilities. Maybe it had been foolish to believe she could please a man like him. She found it impossible, to become a completely obedient woman. A flower that was demure, pretty, and vacant of the demonic wiles that stained her soul.

“There's nothing wrong with you, Morgana.”

Pain glossed over her docile gems, she allowed her hands to peel away from her face. Her teeth were clamped onto her lip, the high points of her cheeks dusted pink. “Really?” She replied in a shaky tone, her voice timid and small. The distance between them thinned into nothing more than their weighted breaths, mingling in the cool desert air. The elf flinched as she felt a hand blanket over hers, the roughness of his palm becoming a comfort to her running mind. She could feel every ridge and pattern etched into his fingers, evidence of the years he’d spent in battle. These strong, blood-drenched hands… hands that had both taken a life, and given life; breeding lovely touches across her skin. The first man to have lay hands on her, he’d branded his essence into her flesh.

“You’re… a masochist.” His tongue caressed the word as if it were a blessing.

“I… -pardon?” Unable to grasp what he was suggesting, her features tangled into an expression of concern. Masochism was the act of taking pleasure in one’s own pain- yet she never imagined that this could occur… sexually. Shards of the puzzle were magnetically fusing back together, forming a beautiful new picture. She was a masochist.

The Beast breathed an aching sigh, her name hung on his lips like a prayer for restraint. The battle-worn touch of his paw had now migrated to her thigh. His canines grazed along her throat, scoring fanged kisses onto her skin. It occurred to her that he truly was the creature of her dreams, bound to her by cosmic ties, level with every need and desire she could ever possess.

“You really were made for me.” Conceding with her thoughts, she felt silly for ever doubting their relationship. She was better off trusting her mate, than whatever unintelligible nonsense whispered from a broken past. He so easily reminded her of the woman she was. Of her sensuality, her graceful clout, her power; but also, equivocally, the raw nakedness that made her fragile in his arms.

The dark, fluffy expanse of her lashes folded to a close, her nails biting into the cement curve of the fountain bench. “Nghn.” A splintered groan seized from the woman’s mouth. Anticipation roped in her gut, knotted into a bundle of skittish nerves. The inklings of desire were writhing in her core, vandalizing her pure vessel with the fruits of arousal. Clear, womanly honey drizzled down her legs. She was warned by the Beast- of the consequences that would ensue if they continued.

Her supple mouth illustrated her discontent, exacerbated into a pout. “You’re a cruel man.” The girl reluctantly stood, partially angled toward the market. Her bashful state was not lost by her icy demeanor, hoping to conceal how truly embarrassed she was. “If you must starve me of satisfaction, then at least treat me to a drink when we return. I’m going to require serious libation after allowing you to choose my undergarments.” She huffed, folding her arms beneath her breasts. At times, she found it troublesome to cross them above her generous cleavage. It became considerably annoying when trying to express her irritation with others.

Although she was begrudging in her withdrawal, she knew he was wise to stop their affair. Any further, and she would be squandering her virginity over the bench of a fountain. Morgana swiped her bag from the ground, jutting her hip out in expectation. “Shall we?” She prompted. “I’m interested to know if all that experience can help you guess a woman’s size correctly.” The elf jibed, raising a defiant brow.
 
“You’re a cruel man.”

"Oh, you have no idea..." Xeno smirked, a growl growing in his throat, telling of the things he would do to her if given the chance. Ravage her, brutalize her, break her. All of these things sounded like a fun time to him. He had feared the woman's delicate disposition to be a limiter to their activities, that he would have to hold back for her sake, but she had just opened a myriad of possibilities for them, for him. And while he wasn't sure of how he would be fulfilling her fantasy of violating her, Xeno was sure as hell going to give it his best try. That small, petite body of hers belonged to him, after all, and he was going to make sure that she knew what that meant. Morgana wanted to be owned and that was exactly what he was going to give her. He only hoped she wouldn't regret that choice. "Libation, hm? Will I have to pour my blood into the cup as well?"

He pulled back a few stray strands of hair from her face, catching her hands with his as he stood up after her, tangling her fingers with his. He smiled faintly at her exasperation, placing a light kiss on her lips. She was so adorable when she was irritated that it just made him want to tease her nonstop, even at the risk of incurring her wrath. "We shall. I have a feeling I know exactly what to grab for you..." He responded to her inquiry, pulling her closer to his chest as he began making his way out of the town square. It was getting really dark now, and chilly as a consequence, so it was only natural that he would want to keep her close by, both for the warmth and because he was afraid he would lose her otherwise. It wasn't that he was afraid she would get in trouble (though she had a knack for doing things that irritated him), but more of an instinctual desire to keep her close by, where no harm could reach her. Was this what it was like to care for someone? He'd never experienced such an annoying feeling before, but he wanted to treasure it dearly.

After a few minutes of walking, they found themselves in the adult section of the town, where all the vices and sins could be found. Whereas there was a brothel down the street from their inn, this street was filled with them, as well as betting houses, seedy bars where barmaids were more appropriately called barwhores, and homes for the drug dealers, where no guard would ever set their foot in. There, he found a storefront that looked reputable enough depicting a woman's leg dressed in fishnet and walked in, the overpowering scent of heavy perfume immediately dizzying the man like a mean shot of moonshine, but not quite as bitter. Xeno was no fan of sugary smells by any means, so he wasn't too happy with the choice of ambience, but he was quick to dismiss it as a woman walked over to them with a gait that spoke of her experience. Xeno's hairs stood on end as the curvy woman walked over to them, eyeing the couple. Not just Xeno or Morgana, but the two as an item.

"Haven't seen you sweeties around here. Tourists?" The woman asked with a sultry tone, running her index finger up Xeno's chest before turning her attention to Morgana, catching her chin between her fingers.

"You could say that," Xeno responded, pulling Morgana out of the woman's grasp. She seemed to take the hint, pouting in the slightest of manners for a moment. Xeno shuddered at the gesture, trying to suppress his instincts. "My wife would like to purchase some undergarments. She doesn't think her old ones suit her clothes."

"Oh! Oh my, such a predicament. Well, if you would lend her to me, I'm sure we could..."

"No," he interjected quickly, pulling Morgana to his chest as if the woman would just snatch her out of his arms. "She would like me to choose them for her."

The woman raised her brow at the elven woman, and when she saw no objection from her, shrugged her shoulders and motioned to the inside of the store. "Very well. Let me know when you're ready to buy, in that case." She said, making her way to the counter at the opposite end of the room. Xeno let out a deep breath, as if he'd been freed from a chokehold, and turned toward Morgana, pulling away from her.

"Stay here and shout if the woman tries anything on you, okay? I'll be back with some underwear for you to choose from." With that said, he broke away from the princess, giving the store attendant a dirty look as he went directly to the more expensive part of the inventory. He would find a wide variety of clothes, from brassiers and corsets to g-strings and thigh-highs, all in different colors and set apart with what the owner of the store had decided would be the best combinations. Xeno, a man too simple to appreciate the true intricacies of whoever had designed the store, only knew what he liked, yet he was sure that would be enough of a reason for Morgana. With that thought in mind, he reached for the set that most caught his eye; a black, see-through brassier and panties with a floral design, showing the skin in the parts that lacked said design, tastefully obscuring the important parts. With it came a garterbelt and dark thigh-highs that would leave only a short space of skin showing just under her skirt.

Another such set that would catch his eyes was of a red color, passionate and dangerous as blood; a low-cut brassier, made of thin silk, obviously made to cover as little skin as possible while still being called a brassier, coupled with a thin, soft g-string that could barely cover the girl's precious nethers. With it came a choker, fluffy and cute in its design, flaring out from the top and bottom. He'd pick out a handful of other sets from the choices given, as well as a pink, see-through negligee, cuter than it was alluring and obviously meant only for bedroom use and nothing more. Happy with his choices, the wolfman went over to Morgana and handed her the undergarments he had chosen out of the bunch, a proud smirk on his lips. "Here they are, my princess. Would you like some... assistance trying them on?"
 
“Oh, you have no idea…” The man flashed her a knowing smirk, a feral growl building in his throat. A shiver trickled down her spine at the sight, feeling as though she were about to be hunted. Her core tensed delightfully at the notion, the veins in her body pumping with excitement. She desperately tried to hide her arousal, clinging to her annoyance at his high-handed bearing.

There was a subtle coolness to the way he surveyed other women. With a salacious glint in his eye, and the curl of his lips, he often perused the subjects of his lust at a leisurely pace. It was a natural, predatory temperament. His efforts were mild as they were blithe, only promising what he could offer- but never insistent. The way he laid eyes on her, on the other hand, was entirely different. Those molten orbs of liquid gold would rage with terrifying intensity, devouring every inch of her vessel with unbidden fantasies. He seethed desire. His every movement shifted to something purely barbaric. As if he needed to restrain himself. Harmless flirting morphed into suffocating advances. Relentless, he would hunt her until his last breath; until she was subdued between the clutches of his ravenous jaws. Now that she’d finally yielded to the Beast, she could only imagine of the storm to come. It made her wonder how much trouble she could garner- attempting to test the limits of that captivating restraint.

“Libation, hm? Will I have to pour my blood into the cup as well?” He hummed- very well testing her own restraint. Her lashes lowered to shade the verdant hunger in her gaze, fighting to keep her pupils dilated to a mortal disposition. A sharpness dug into the flesh of her tongue, her fangs elongating to a more prominent state.

“I prefer mine from the source.” She hissed, her brain wracked by the headache of her skull- daring to give way to her sinister assets. The onyx protrusions regressed back beneath her hair, her teeth clenched. It took great effort to suppress her urge to pounce on him right then. She’d warned him of tempting her before. “Don’t tempt me, Xeno. Or so help me, I will drink from you in the most heinous of ways that the poor mortals watching will never wish to see gore again.” A snarl ripped from between her sweet, plush lips- a deception to the lethal woman she was beneath.

He seemed amused by her ire, melding their fingers together in a sickeningly affectionate display. Animalkind were so touchy. An unsolicited display of satisfaction swarmed across her cheeks in a pink glow, the elf nearly kicking herself at her clear enjoyment of the gesture. Xeno pressed a chaste kiss to her lips, melting away her jagged, icy exterior. Neurotic, stiff shoulders relaxed into his casual embrace, silently acquiescing to his unbridled ardor. The arctic cruelty of her past remained, still. Affection was an element in their relationship that she could not fully grasp. The woman had confessed her feelings for him at knifepoint, for gods sake!

Nestled against his chest, meandering through the narrow streets of the Red Light District, she stole a glance of his face every so often- the radiant flare of lanterns illuminating his staunch features. The utterings of her heart stuttered and stumbled without fault, a proclivity to his presence she could not shake. Was this what affection was supposed to feel like? It was different from the way she’d care for her familiars, or her family. It wasn’t quite like the way she’d cuddle a grizzly cub- or how she’d toy with the innards of a freshly caught meal. The wandering of her thoughts fell still as they entered a particular shop. She immediately winced at the horrid cloud of sugary mania that wafted from the establishment. It assaulted her senses, nauseating in its endeavor to lure in patrons. Even sex had a better stench. Xeno seemed to share her contempt, as his ears raised slightly. She narrowed her eyes at the way his fur raised on edge, finding the reaction oddly familiar. It wasn’t a reaction to the perfume, that was certain. No, this was something of the lustful variety. Her eyes slid to the object of his attention, scowling as she found herself beholding a woman.

A curvy, majestic creature- radiating sex appeal. The commoner had the gall to drag a sultry finger down Xeno’s chest. Morgana’s eyes immediately shifted, sharpening into feline rage. Emerald pools cleaved by her pupils, sliced into demonic slits. Magic was cascading from her aura, the glamour that acted as a camouflage to her divine identity rippling. One more movement and she would unleash all of Hell. She’d tear her fangs into that soft shell, revealing the monster she truly was.

Morgana reeled, caught off guard as the woman pinched her fingers around her chin. Taking a slow, deep breath, she willed her aura to withdraw back into her skin. It wouldn’t be good if she was prancing around the Badlands, screaming to the heavens that she was a Valyrian High Elf. Even if it meant she got to wreak chaos upon the trollop.

Despite his promiscuous reactions to the woman, Xeno wrenched Morgana from her grip. She was tempted to snatch his tail, eager to express her disapproval at his behavior. Planting her feet to the ground, she obliged her pseudo-husband’s request of staying put. It would give her time to wring out the massive knot in her mood. Time passed at an achingly slow rate, the princess biding her time by inspecting her fingernails in an aloof manner. Wiggling her digits, she frowned at the lack of lacquer on her long, bare nails. She quite enjoyed being a woman of high-born status, at times. Having flowers braided into her hair, wearing dresses, and having her nails painted neatly. It was a nice luxury to pamper her femininity.

Xeno soon returned with an armful of lingerie, proud of his findings as he displayed them to her. The elf merely quirked a speculative bow, cross, as she examined the small pile. Suspect, she plucked a transparent, pink negligee from his arms. “Mm. So you do know my size.” She noted, scanning over the other underpinnings. There was a good variety, all highly appealing, though the negligee had her contemplating sleepwear. “What good, helpful Beast I have.” She cooed with a semi-sweet grin, tainted by her indignation. Morgana swept a playful touch down his tail, narrowing her eyes as her mouth stretched into a coquettish smile. Swirling the furry appendage around her hand, she tugged softly, and released her hold. “Would you like me to try them on for you as a reward?” The woman splayed a hand on her hip, goading him to answer.

“Actually,” the demoness tapped a finger to her lips, “I have a few of my own to add to the list.” Sauntering to the end of the store from which he’d come, she elected for a couple provocative nightgowns and a silk robe. Upon her return, she relieved the Beast of the increasing pile of underpinnings, and brought them up to the counter. There’d been no need to try them on inside the store, as the garments were very obvious as to how they’d sit- or rather, hug her frame. After a quick interaction with the shop attendant, (one that involved the woman, once again, attempting to flirt with her) she joined Xeno with a bag in one hand, the other reaching to tangle their fingers together.

“Now, I believe you owe me a drink.” Her tongue snaked out between her lips, wetting them, and tracing languidly over her left fang. “It’s up to you if I take it now, in the back alley…” She exhaled a hungry, impatient sigh. “Or, you can give me something more substantial from the tavern. Either way-” She shrugged in a blasé motion, her tail gliding out into view. It slithered around his, caressing his fur in long, sensual strokes. “You’re going to satisfy your princess, aren’t you?”

Her tail snapped back, disappearing back into her lithe body as they stepped out into the night. “Were you, perhaps, disappointed I didn’t try them on?” Tilting her head coyly, she gave his palm a gentle squeeze. “I wouldn’t want to dirty my pretty new undergarments. Especially when I’ve worn nothing under this all day long.” She gestured to her outfit by pulling at the fabric over her breast, pinching the strap around her neck, causing the mound to jiggle subtly as she allowed the fabric to snap back against her skin.
 
“Mm. So you do know my size.”

"I had a wild guess, though I did get the chance to get a good look a few days ago..." Xeno grinned toothily, light glinting off his fangs and his eyes glowed dangerously. He was quiet in her examination of the garments, watching her reaction, waiting for her approval or disapproval of his choice. When she didn't condemn his choices, and actually seemed to be pleased with them, his tail swayed back and forth in quiet joy. His heart dropped instantly, however, when Morgana reached around him, catching said appendage in her hand. Had he caught him wagging his tail? It would be wildly embarrassing for him if she had. As the elf played with it, the man's expression was stoic, though inside he was further aroused by her play, his tail struggling to break free from her grasp. When she did let go of it, the man narrowed his eyes, a grumble of annoyance growing in his throat as she asked him a suggestive question. He would have to teach her his tail was not a toy in the future or she would have a fair grip on one of his weaknesses. "I can wait..." He muttered in slight annoyance, curling his tail around his waist, like a belt. So much for having it swaying freely; he'd have to be more careful about it.

His mood had been fouled briefly at her slight, the man silent as Morgana left him to grab some more sleepwear. Xeno's ears perked up at her choices, far more provocative and... lacy than he had expected. Though he was quite open about baring his body to her, she had shown herself to be less so, with him being the one to initiate the intimacy between them. She was by no means a woman who should be ashamed of her body, but he had grown to know that she preferred keeping a modicum of... 'decency', so it was surprising to see her picking out the garments he'd deliberately avoided for being too risque. He was far from displeased, however, already picturing in his mind how such clothes would hug her figure. Her petite, sensual figure.

"My, my, what a spoiled little girl I have in my hands..." He teased, squeezing her hand slightly. Xeno could already see the slightest hint of that demonic jade in her eyes, glowing ever so slightly in the dark. As much as he wanted to tempt that demon he'd seen a few days ago, it was dangerous to play along with her games in public. For the time being, Xeno bit his lip, driving his fang into the soft flesh and drawing blood. He pressed his lips to hers, lining her bottom lip with his tainted blood before licking at the wound. "Wait till we're in your room before you start thinking of sucking me dry, kitty." At some point, he had let his guard down, immediately regretting releasing his tail from its belt-like position when Morgana's tail tangled with it, gently teasing the man's sensitive appendage. He let out a long, frustrated sigh as she pulled away, regretful that they couldn't keep the small exchange going. "Mmm... shouldn't you be the one satisfying me? I'm still a bit mad about earlier, you know..." He breathed, looking forward, a hand reaching to scratch at his scalp as if to express his vexation. It was false, however, his face expressing all but a smug sense of happiness at their back-and-forth. She really brought out the stupid sides of him. Had she been some whore he'd picked up from the street, he would have ditched her the moment she allowed herself to be touched by another man, but everything about Morgana made him forgive her transgressions. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite, with much of his life defined with his pursuit for sexual pleasure.

"I was a little disappointed," He admitted, rolling his neck around, glancing at her, though his expression hardly changed. He breathed out, nodding at her explanation to why she hadn't done so. "Mmm, it's fine. There's a certain thrill to this too. I'll have you try them on for me once you get yourself cleaned up, though." A fine idea crossed his mind, a dark smirk painted upon his lips as he put a hand over Morgana's head. "Remember that reward you were talking about in the morning? Back in Karindo, there are exotic dancers. They wear really... suggestive clothes. I'm thinking... You could do something similar to what they do. I want you to wear the clothes that you bought and strip yourself for me. How about it?"

Whether she accepted or not, they continued on their way back to the inn, eventually arriving and being greeted by Windry, who was making her rounds around the dining room. She gave the couple only a passing 'hello' before going to attend to the other patrons. Xeno looked around and sniffed around, the scent of alcohol and cigarettes heavy. A cursory glance at the corner of the room confirmed what he was looking for, the smallest of smiles as he noticed that the betting table was missing one of the regulars. Perhaps he had been too afraid to come back? It would be quite funny to know he'd lost the inn owner, the man responsible for the foul, overcooked meals, one of his regulars. He turned to Morgana, tugging at her as he made his way to an empty table, pulling out a chair for himself and one for Morgana, though leaving his lap open in case she wished to sit elsewhere. "I hate crowds." He mentioned offhandedly, rather to himself than to his companion.

Before he could really wallow in his irritation, however, Windry quickly came to them, placing two glasses of water for the pair, winking at Xeno. The wolf-man smiled in response, though nothing more. "How was your day, dearies? You seemed excited when you left. Didn't even stop for breakfast." She said, tilting her head to the side.

"Oh, we just went out shopping..." He glanced to Morgana and squeezed her hand.

"Really? You wouldn't happen to have gone to The Sparrow, would you? I heard a wolf-man beat the owner real bad, but no one's really sure why. I thought of you when they mentioned wolf, but I can't imagine you doing such a horrible thing..."

Xeno coughed. He couldn't bring too much attention to himself. "I... see. Sounds like a lot of trouble... doesn't it, Morgana?"
 
Her body burnished by sensual hunger, it spurned against her efforts to quell the devil- threatening to sprout. The flesh guarding her spine hid away her tail. It was writhing, begging to be set free. To join his fluffy appendage once more in their little dalliance. It was too gratifying. Seeing the way the wolf-man reacted in response to her. The number of women he’d garnered attention from, often incited some strange behavior. It wasn’t willful. Yet it still stoked rage in her pyres, at the sight. Though while he made have tried to rein in old habits, he was unable to conceal the emotions conveyed through his canine assets. Namely, when it came to her. His ears would perk up, his tail would wag. His affection for her was irresistible. Thumping along in double-time, her heart shuddered under his exclusive attention.

“My, my, what a spoiled little girl I have in my hands...” He’d commented mirthfully. She felt her core pulse at the words, little girl leaving his tongue.

An unexpected kiss captured her lips, tainted by the presence of sweet, tantalizing blood. She moaned against his mouth, collecting her gift with an eager swipe of her tongue. He was driving her insane. Did the man know of how he affected her? She was being driven into an endless state of bloodlust and chaotic desire. Her head nearly spun with the overwhelming need that ravaged between her hips.

The two of them melted away into their shared sliver of the world. The dissonance of the Badlands barely existed, when attempting to wedge between the two. Their magnetism was inseparable. The girl was dizzied by the wolf. Of how he played her like a beautifully strung, golden harp. He knew just how to push her buttons. Just how to annoy her. Just how to adore her. Or even, perhaps, love her. The thought barely zipped along the undergrowth of her swampy mind frame. She was still tainted by the weeds of her past. But slowly, he rained over her murky waters in the form of sunlight. He made her feel warm.

Perhaps, warm enough to entertain the idea he was proposing. She knew she’d practically baited him to cash-in the reward she so graciously offered him. Part of her had hoped that he’d push for more.

Contemplating her response, Xeno led them back to the inn. A scene of the dance she’d fashion between layers of silk skimmed across her imagination, as they meandered into the tavern. They were greeted by the barmaid- an effective method of sobering up the raven-haired princess from her fantasies. For a moment, her eyes flickered to Xeno’s ears. Wondering, if they would flinch- or if his fur would rustle. Her attention fell back to the barmaid, as she realized these reactions would become quite seldom. It hit her like a dull ton of bricks. A royal was never to have the best credit line of trust. Trusting him was the hardest hurdle in their budding relationship.

He’d trusted her in a heartbeat. It showed in the betrayal on his face, when she’d allowed another man to touch her. It showed in the brand, that wove itself so lovingly into his flesh.

Trust did not come so easily to her. Not with the sentient, bi-pedal creatures that filled the tavern. Yet, somehow, the Beast had rapidly become an exception. Standing at the edge of the table he’d picked out for them, she noted the way he pulled out her chair- and still, left an open space for her on his lap. His cues were muted, inconspicuous. He never spoke to command her affection. With his authority, he could command the recesses of her very soul. As he could with any woman. But, it was different with her. It would always be different, with her.

“Xeno.” His name fluttered from her lips in a sigh, the princess perching herself onto his lap. Tossing her shopping bags under the table, she rested her palms onto his chest. I hate crowds, he’d said, though she’d ignore the statement and tuck it away for later information. “I would gladly grant you your reward.” Nuzzling into his neck, she yearned for the closeness he offered, and the respite from their exhausting day. Peace was short-lived, unfortunately, as her fangs brushed with her tongue. Her tail ached, her horns pulsed angrily in her skull. Release, her body pleaded. “If only you didn’t drive me mad…” She added, her breath fanning against his throat. Chaos reared on the precipice of her control, littering her mind with bloody disaster. Adrenaline swam through her veins and lit the dangerous cauldron that fabricated her need for the sinister. She could still taste his scarlet on her lips.

Morgana had never been so thankful to see Windry. The woman creating small talk as she placed two tall glasses of water on the table. One of her hands shifted to Xeno’s thigh, squeezing to translate some of the tension that was now plaguing her body. She’d received his quiet gesture as the topic shifted to the morning brawl at the weapon shop. Her wicked green eyes struggled to keep demons at bay, greeting their hostess with a nefarious grin. “Trouble, indeed. It was tragic that I’d missed the opportunity to see the wreckage for myself.” The princess crossed her legs, carefully balanced as she sat on her companion’s lap. It was clear she no longer saw Windry as a threat. Rather, she saw her as a form of sustenance. Even her horrified little face would work to keep her heat under wraps. “You see, I have a penchant for men with the ability to do terrible things.” She wove her web of mischief carefully, shifting her posture to access the Beast’s face. Stroking a thumb across his cheek, she effused a tender fondness for the wolf. “Watching as they elicit every grisly gush of blood…” She sighed, returning her gaze back to the woman. “Nothing could be more of a turn-on, right?”

The elf’s seemingly pure lips stretched into a chilling smile. “That’s why you can’t imagine how disappointed I am. I can’t believe we missed it.” Her angelic mouth formed a delicate pout. “He always wants me far away from trouble. And how can I blame him? Only by forcing him to buy me the strongest ale you have.” It was a small measure to assure the woman they’d been far away from the scene. But enough to leave her disturbance lingering.

You couldn’t handle him if you tried, she thought smugly. Once Windry took their orders, she scuttled off. Morgana merely averted all her attention to the Beast, draping her arms over his shoulders.

“You’ve made things quite difficult with that little stunt you pulled out there.” Her eyes drifted to where he’d made the cut on his lip. “Alcohol helps to curb the cravings, but… I may not be able to hold out very long.” Morgana tightened the tension between her thighs. “Do you have any other hobbies besides tempting demons, my dear Beast?” Tracing the patterns of ink on his arm, she prayed for the ale to reach her in a timely manner. Now was the time for indulgence and distraction. But, maybe later, she would think of her newly bloomed feelings- when she didn't have the desire for mischief lurking on her aura.
 
"Morgana..." He answered to her in a forlorn manner, resting his palms on her hips, consolidating her spot on his lap. Though it was true that many other women had once rested in the same spot in the past, it was now exclusively Morgana's place, for her to rest and tease him in. And tease him she did, with the way she wiggled around in the slightest of ways, the hints of her earlier arousal staining the front of his pants. "The night is young... I might have other requests for you." He muttered under his breath, his gaze ungluing itself from the dark-haired elf to see the barmaid approaching them. Xeno would be lying if he said he wasn't at least a bit nervous about Windry approaching the pair. Even if this was their first time actually talking, he could feel a palpable animosity coming from Morgana, his princess, as she showed a side of herself that he hadn't seen before. It wasn't visible, but rather he felt it in the way his skin crawled at the woman's aura as the red-haired human went to tend to them.

“If only you didn’t drive me mad…” Her words acted as an omen, rather than a compliment, as Morgana turned her attention to the other woman who'd shoehorned herself into their conversation. "Morgana..." Xeno sighed, an unspoken request for her to behave herself. Her wild, violent outbursts were still fresh in his mind, the way she had mercilessly killed two bandits burned into his eyes. The same woman that so tenderly sat on his lap was capable of such violence. It was hard to predict what was going through her brain. He was quiet, however, when she did speak up, giving her own perspective of the event from earlier. Though he was unapologetic about his violent jealousy, he was indeed surprised to hear the princess express not dislike or disgust for it, but a sort of... arousal. He knew her to be the kind of woman to revel in violence, yes, but he wouldn't have expected it to extend to other people as well. Xeno watched her reactions with tender awe, popping Morgana's thumb in his mouth, his tail wagging pleasantly at her subtle praise of his actions.

“You see, I have a penchant for men with the ability to do terrible things.” "You only need one terrible man in your life." He interjected with a certain degree of annoyance. The Beast King knew perfectly well that she was speaking only of him, yet he was somewhat disturbed by her choice of words... as if she could possibly want any other men but him.

“He always wants me far away from trouble. And how can I blame him? Only by forcing him to buy me the strongest ale you have.” Such annoyance was short-lived, however, as Morgana quickly shifted the topic elsewhere. He was only too happy to indulge in the girl's wish for a drink, especially considering she had been talking about needing one for the longest time now. Windry, the gentle soul that she was, was thoroughly disturbed by Morgana's opinion on the matter on the previous topic of conversation, far too innocent to understand what was so attractive about a man who would threaten to kill another man for touching what was his. And so she was quick to leave the pair after seeing that Xeno didn't reprimand the woman for her controversial views, but was instead taken in by them. They were a strange couple indeed, even by Badland standards, it seemed. Xeno only watched the barmaid leave for a second before giving his full attention to the princess resting lazily on him.

Xeno licked his lip, tasting the steely dullness of his blood as he ran his tongue over the fresh scab. The demoness was too easy to read, to tease, and it was the most fun the wolfman could have in such a dingy, depressing place like this. Could he really be blamed for wanting to irritate Morgana for a bit of fun? "You won't need to wait too long..." Xeno said, leaning his head to the side to give plenty of room for her to bite into. "The regulars leave early and the ones that stick around get too drunk to know what they're doing. Windry and the owner will be too busy making sure there aren't any barfights, so you could always bite in. Or..." The gruff man looked over to the staircase, watching a drunk patron making his way up to his room already. "We could take our glasses and the ale up to our room and you can drink from me..." He slid a hand under her skirt, gathering up some of her nectar from between her lips and bringing it to his lips, savoring it. "And I can drink from you."

He let the offer remain in the air for a moment. "I do like... to paint in my free time." He said offhandedly in answer to her question, smirking smugly at her as he shifted to place a few kisses on her neck. "Hundred and ten, hundred and eleven..." He muttered, kissing up and down her neck, particularly on the bruises and marks he'd left behind. With her new outfit, it was much easier to find places to kiss and caress, as he distractedly did, rubbing the tips of his fingers over her skin. He only stopped momentarily to receive the ale from Windry, who offered little more than a small smile, leaving the couple to their own thing. It seemed as though she wasn't the only to notice them, however, as a few other patrons were watching the two of them engagedly. "... It's orc ale." Xeno wasn't bothered by it at all, however, taking the bottle and popping it open with a soft fizz to it, pouring it into a glass and offering it to Morgana. "Orcs are known to be the best at holding their liquor. Only person that's been able to drink me under the table was an orc. Got him with a dagger in the neck, though. Couldn't have him telling tales."

Xeno remembered the memory with annoyance, sighing to himself before setting down the bottle, rubbing his chin as a thought crossed his mind. "You know, I've never had someone pouring me drinks before. You're in a pretty convenient position up there, so perhaps you could... spoonfeed me, for the lack of a better term. It'd make your king really happy if you did..."
 
He was wrought from cursed stone, fashioned in glorious marble and made to crush her under the weight of his tempestuous antics. She may have been perched upon his lap, but for the moment- she was glued to him. No matter how she writhed or pleaded, within his grasp, he would never release her. As her name fell from his lips in graceful, promised sin, she became ensnared by his subtle ardor. For each moment she was subject to his affections, the ties that which bound their souls tightened. With each uttering of her name, the pyres of her flame were stoked with desire. Her chest ached at every moment she was deprived of his savage, amber gaze. Her every nerve was alight with rage, garnished by the bittersweet wish of his touch. The beast relished her pain. She knew this from the curl of his lips, and the flicker of his animal appendages atop his crown. He knew of how he tortured her wild, fragile state.

In the midst of his sentimental devotions, his tongue cradled her thumb. The furred extension known as his tail was sweeping against the floor with rapid approval at her slowly unraveling praise. At first, she’d only intended to spin an entertaining web of fabricated fantasy to perturb the mortal barmaid. Yet, her words held some truth that seemed to please the Beast. The recesses of her soul shook and caved in response. Every so often he demonstrated how his affections were not merely physical. They ran far deeper, seeking to claim her roots and dissect them with morbid curiosity. It was a strange feeling. To be purely desired to a degree that she’d yet known to exist. Extracting every breath for keeping, he took her words to heart. So much so, he’d interrupted her dialogue with the barmaid.

“You only need one terrible man in your life.” He’d interjected. She had been taken aback by the seriousness of his statement. They led entirely different lives within the walls of that city. It would not matter what a peasant human barmaid thought of the duo. And yet he still bothered to correct her. For a moment, she’d seen a shift within Xeno. A lack of confidence in her devotion, maybe. It was more solemn than jealousy. Rather, it was a lonely expression. As if he was… saddened by the idea of her not belonging entirely to him.

Left to their own devices, Xeno was gracious enough to finally address her needs. Though now, they somehow dulled in comparison to his own. His golden appraisal of senses were tinged with perplexing passion. A pair of cruel fingers snuck beneath her skirts to tantalize her, retreating with the proof of her insufferable desire. She shuddered, desperate to bury her body’s response in the public eye. She was beginning to understand the dawn of his cruelty, detecting a small sense of revenge in his nature. She wanted to offer him some comfort, although difficult when met with the spotlight under the bar’s over-intrigued patrons.

“Xeno.” Her breath was heavy, trying to find her bearings as she cupped his face with her palms. Their breath mingled like intoxicating smoke, her skin vibrating with hysteria at their forbidden proximity. No matter the crowd’s drunken stupor, anything more than this would be downright vile. “I’m yours, Beast.” She whispered, their noses brushing as she strained to contain herself. “Drink from me, if you wish. You are the only man to lay hands on me. The first… and last.” She coaxed in a velvety tenor. Withdrawing with a shaky sigh, her hands reassumed their position on his shoulders. “For you? I can stay down here and behave.”

Her labored breathing was showcased by the way her breasts rose and fell, evidence of how he affected her. She’d nearly lost her composure when he’d taken to her neck, murmuring numbers like sweet nothings as he laid kisses to her flesh. Her stomach wrung into knots, on the verge of acrobatics as she realized he was still counting his lovely apologies. The wolf's tenderness seeped into and stirred her gut, wrenching the possession of carnal passion back into her demonic frame. A reprieve was given when he mentioned his affinity for painting. It was a lighthearted topic to draw her away from their shared lechery. “You paint?” She inquired with a dubious regard, blinking away the facets of blue pooling into her irises. She was honestly bemused by this new revelation. “How unexpected that you have a love for the arts.” It was fitting, oddly enough- a perfect explanation to his surprisingly gentle tendencies, and admirable dexterity. Her cheeks warmed at her thoughts, the woman quick to accept the ale he offered her. She could care less of the alcohol’s origins at the moment, too fixated on her lustful disposition.

Taking a long swig from her tankard, she felt the fizzy liquid fuel her confidence almost instantly. It was strong enough to be deemed liquid courage. Bloodlust seemed to fizzle away under the influence of her drink, replaced by her annoyance at his constant teasing. Her second sip turned into one massive gulp, throwing her head back, not missing a drop as she cleared the glass of its contents. Tapping the empty tankard to the table, her dark, swirling irises connected with his. The ale buzzing in her system, their audience didn’t appear to exist. All of her reservations dissipated under the delightfully bitter taste of her drink. She was feeling rather vengeful herself, that evening. He may have had reason to be miffed by the events of the day, but she had her own reasons- tormented by his relentless pulling of her strings. It was time she pushed his buttons.

“Which drink, my King?” Dragging a stray finger down his chest, her head tilted, a lopsided grin sprawled across her pink lips. “My blood?” She suggested, her lashes hung in a lazy, seductive frame to her sultry green eyes. “I recall you wishing to drink from my chest…” She wiggled off his lap, placing herself on the edge of the table. The elf rested on the weight of her palms, taking care to cross her legs. Morgana was highly aware of the distance between them, wondering if it frustrated him just as equally. Would he miss her presence on his lap?

“Did you mean to use me as a vessel for your drink?” Her eyes flit to the bottle on the table. “Or perhaps… you wished to drink something else, from my chest?” She proposed, reaching for the bottle to pour herself another glass. “I could stay down here, and behave. Or…you can take me upstairs. And I’ll misbehave.” The words left her in a lethal purr, her lips curling back to bare her fangs in a challenging manner. “By all means, Beastie. We can stay. You’ll have to live with being drunken under by an elf, though.” Morgana snickered, reaching for her glass. “What’ll it be, Beast King?”
 
The barmaid left them, leaving behind her a sweet silence between the pair, of pure relishment in each others' company, but also in contemplation. Xeno had said more than he'd meant, spurred by his own insecurity that he knew not he could possess. The idea of Morgana wanting any other man besides him had made him unequivocally uneasy, his tail swinging impatiently against the wooden floorboards even when the conversation itself came to an end. Xeno didn't know what had made him react that way, especially when he knew perfectly well that Morgana was only recounting the tale in a way that would disturb Windry and leave her guessing about the elven woman. Because of this, he contemplated his own actions, holding Morgana's waist to him, nuzzling against her neck in some desperate need for closeness. Lord, she made him weak. No one had ever made him feel so vulnerable.

“Xeno.” As if she could read his mind, the dark-haired beauty strained a gasp from her throat, calling to him from the dark mist of his mind. He pulled his face back in response, looking askance to her, his heart stopping for a moment when he noticed the woman's lust-filled gaze and felt her warm, smooth palms framing his face. His tail froze from its restless swinging, coiling up just behind his back, his eyes narrow as he felt a pang of desire eating at him, shooting a chill up his spine. The things he'd do to her if they weren't out in the open. Pinning her down on the table was almost too tempting. "Mmm... you're mine." He echoed pleasantly, his ears fluttering at the phrase coming from her own lips. She knew just how to calm his heart. "Mine, mine, mine..." He repeated almost obsessively, letting his tail loop around and wrap around her back. "It does sound nice, for you to behave. But if my little kitten's playing all nice, when do I get to punish her?" He was almost melancholic when he asked, doing his best to fake a playful pout. It was hard to choose between the well-behaved princess and the temptress of a succubus. Both threatened to make his heart burst, to make him lose what little control he had over his libido.

Instead of giving his choice right away, Xeno looked around, glaring at the spectators that dared to stare at the couple. As proud as he was of having Morgana be his, his jealousy reared its ugly head whenever he considered that other men would lay eyes on her, especially when she wore such tempting garments. Yet, in the end, he liked her choice of wardrobe far too much to complain about it and, more importantly, Morgana was happy with the clothes she had bought. Looking back to Morgana, it was to his chagrin that she decided to give more importance to his passing comment than he thought necessary. There was a hint of red to his cheeks as he averted his gaze from hers at her incredulous inquiry and subsequent comment. "Yes, I paint." He parroted, almost annoyed. It wasn't something many people knew, if any at all, because he had always been guarded about how he spent his time outside the public's eye. The man had a reputation to keep; it wouldn't exactly help him if he went around telling everyone about his hobby. Morgana's reaction was far from malicious in nature, but still made him uneasy. "It's not that unexpected," Xeno tried to argue, scratching at his cheek. "Royals must seek for the finer arts if they wish to separate themselves from the common rabble. It just so happens to be that my hands are dexterous as they are strong."

The Beast cleared his throat then, happy to shift the topic of conversation from how he spent his leisurely time to the unremarkable bottle in front of them. The liquid itself was golden-like, much similar to the wolfman's eyes and a single sniff of it betrayed just how pure it was in its alcohol content. Orcs were known to cut corners with a lot of things and alcohol was especially true. 50% alcohol content would usually blind someone, if not kill them outright, but they had found a way to keep it from doing any sort of damage to the person drinking it while still keeping that deathly taste. Before Xeno could take a swig of his own drink, Morgana had already downed her own and was eager to pour herself another, but not before giving her man a hard time, no doubt fueled by the drink itself.

Almost as soon as the alcohol settled into her system, the princess wiggled her way out of his grasp, leaving him to notice her glaring absence immediately. Not a second passed before he was missing her warmth on his lap, his ears drooping noticeably. "Come now. I thought you said you'd behave yourself..." He sighed, shaking his head as if to let his annoyance be known. Yet the worst of it was not her attitude or how tempting it was to pull her legs apart to get a good look at her lecherous disposition, but the fact that she was no longer occupying the spot that was hers and only hers.

Still, it seemed as though she was not about to sit back down, nestled comfortably over him, her chest perfectly level with his face. It was as if she was challenging him to do as he pleased, like she was putting up an attitude to make him suffer. Was it time for him to reap the result of his constant teasing of the princess all day long? Xeno was a selfish man, and he wouldn't give into her plans so easily. He quickly grabbed her wrist as she went to grab her drink, pulling both of her wrists together so as to have her arms pressed her breasts together. "I won't have anyone drink me under, kitty. Press your breasts together. I believe you said I could drink from you." He grumbled, the threat of death under his breath as he grabbed his own tankard and hovered it over Morgana's cleavage, slowly angling it as he buried his face between her mounds.

The cold liquid cascaded from the tankard and to her breasts, splashing messily over her shapely flesh and over to his mouth. Pressed so tightly together, hardly any of the liquid fell through to her abdomen. Xeno held her wrists in place till he was certain there was not a single drop of his drink left in the glass, letting go of her only after he slammed the tankard onto the table. "Pour me another," he commanded. "I'll show you your mistake in challenging me, you naughty princess. And when we're done, I'll have you strip for me upstairs. I hope you don't come to regret your decision."
 
The facets of her conscience flittered and wandered, bubbled by the fizzy liquid that hummed from the barrel of her glass. Her mind pondered the setting of a sunlit meadow, a mixture of flowers from the Valyrian forest sprouted in the dawn of Spring. The Beast stood by a strangely well-maintained selection of paints, and a muddled canvas she could not make out. She’d expected him to be splattered with colorful disarray. Chaotically molding his rampant ideas into fine art. Yet he appeared staunchly convicted by restraint, the silhouette of his muscles still- but relaxed. The canorous laughter of the tavern highlighted her ears, gently willing her back to her perch upon the wooden table. She shifted on the worn surface, adjusting to her surroundings as she recalled the faint daydream wafting over her awakened state.

Displeasure worked its subtle kinks into the contours of his face. The Beast was unhappy with her evaluation at his interest of choice, though apparently more-so with her current position. Part of her wished to return to his lap, and force him to divulge more on his beloved craftsmanship. Though it was rare for Morgana to admit fault in her choices, as it was for Xeno to admit more than he wished. Uncrossing her legs, the Elvish woman smoothed out her skirt, and re-crossed them. It was an empty movement, but nonetheless distracting. “I’ve yet to experience this… dexterity.” She teased, her voice softening a pitch, melting into a velvety tenor. The word triggered a small ‘pang’ in her gut, her body beginning to imagine just where he might exhibit his skill. Simmering gems, shaded by the sweep of coy lashes, lowered to the Beast’s hands. His fingers were defined, and long- a shiver skirting down her spine at the thought of how far they might bury themselves…

Every hair stood on end, Morgana’s expression wrought with tame lust. Alcohol did wonders for washing away the symptoms of her habitual hunger. Control was an easier device to practice, under its influence. Although nothing could stop her innate desire for the Beast, nor the effects which he roused upon her body. Alcohol gave the woman a sense of immunity. And as a result, she’d toyed and pushed as she pleased. But she never quite expected for his patience to run short, or for her to actually face the consequences of her constant gamble with the wolf.

“I won't have anyone drink me under, kitty. Press your breasts together. I believe you said I could drink from you.” A seething promise laid beneath his gruff commands, surprising the Elf. Gaping at him with wide, doe-eyes- the girl struggled to find a witty response as he yanked her wrists together. She could feel her breasts being smushed against one another underneath the soft fabric of her top. Her face grew increasingly pink, a chromatic scale of bashfulness, as her mate drew closer to her bosom. Parting her lips to protest, a cascade of ale was poured through the criss-cross of fabric over her breasts- her mate’s face nuzzled between them- whilst the onrush was gathered into his awaiting mouth. It was cold, startling, and wet as it doused through her top. She held in a yelp so not to alert the other guests of their lewd display.

The table shook as Xeno slammed his empty tankard onto the surface beside her, causing her to jump. “Beast!” She growled petulantly, her cheeks flaming. Snatching the bottle away from his grasp, she contemplated whether it would be wiser to deny his demands, or abide them. “I regret nothing. And would you like to know why that is?” Morgana leaned forward, clutching the bottle to her dampened chest. Her nipples hardened beneath the fabric, giving a strange, unpleasant sensation each time she moved. “Because if I drink you under, Beastie, you have to paint something for me.” A slow, mirthful grin splayed across her supple lips. It appeared as though she strived to disobey him, taking the bottle for herself and raising it to her chin. She let it hover there for a moment, one of her fangs glinting with menace, as she taunted her challenger. Xeno would come to regret challenging her. That, she promised herself. Wrapping her lips around the rim of the bottle, she kicked back half of its contents, before thudding the half-emptied container onto the table. If she wasn’t buzzed before, she certainly was now. The woman wobbled ever so slightly, rocking side to side, before regaining her balance. She didn’t seem all that impaired, save for the reckless glare in her eyes. Her lips twitched, her eyes drifting as she appeared to contemplate something.

“You know…” She sighed, hopping down from the table and back into her assigned seat- that being, the Beast’s lap. “I can be…” Her fingers traced wandering patterns across his chest as she leaned closer. “-an animal.” She purred into the pulse of his throat, inhaling deeply. A muted giggle tickled his neck. Leisurely, she swiped her tongue across his exposed flesh, as if to support her statement. “But,” she breathed an exhale, “we are civilized people, no?” Morgana posed, withdrawing to meet his gaze. “I’m sure we could arrange a compromise. I get what I want…” Her fingers explored the expanse of his torso, making feather-light designs with invisible strokes. “And I give you… what you want.”

Her cunning, vixen eyes flickered to his smoldering orbs. “All you have to do, is tell me- what do you want?” She let the question hang in the air for a moment, before adding. “And, settle for a tie with your dear princess?”
 
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