Taste For The Wicked | Vaip + Ether

[Carpe Diem]

She was nothing if not unruly, as if her every action was guided to nip at his patience, to challenge his authority. Part of him was regretting giving into her demands for drink, more than likely the fuel to her defiance. There was a rising growl in his throat each time she would make one of her snarky, feisty retorts, his tail, which had been pleasantly swaying about a few minutes ago, coiled with tension as he tried his best to keep his cool. His ears pulled back, his brows furrowed, Xeno watched the woman closely, trying to understand the reason for her change in demeanor. Surely, alcohol gave on the courage to do the things they were afraid to do normally, but Morgana had to have a good reason to be as spiteful as she was being. Had he, perhaps, played with her too much? Now that he thought about it, the elven princess had been filled with an unmistakable need throughout the day. While she had been quite attuned to his needs, especially when he became jealous, Xeno had all but ignored her own. It made sense that this was her idea of retribution. A man as obstinate as the Beast King, however, was not one to apologize for teasing his prey, especially when she'd been keeping herself free from his calculating claws, slipping away whenever he thought he had her. When he was so close to making her his.

“I’ve yet to experience this… dexterity.” He stole a glimpse of her as she went to smooth her skirt over, his eyes following her fingers as she nearly revealed herself in front of him. Frustration clouded ambers, his hands reaching to grab the edge of the table, some attempt at keeping the sight to himself only, though he was sure he was the only one aware of her lack of undergarments beneath that short piece of clothing. He sucked in air, trying his best to keep himself from pinning the woman down on the table. "Perhaps you haven't earned the right to have me show you said dexterity. My fingers paint the most colorful of pieces upon even the palest of... canvases..." The wolf allowed his fingers to ghost over her hips, holding the woman in place as he pressed his lips to her stomach, placing the lightest of kisses on her belly button. "... Hundred and twenty-one..." He whispered against the hollowed bit. He remained there for a few moments, nuzzling the smoothness of her abdomen before he retreated, gazing up at her.

She was, amusingly, quite displeased with his bold motions, protesting him fervently despite having done nothing to actually stop him. He had to wonder if the embarrassment worked as a thrill to the woman, and her protests were an attempt to keep her dignity intact. So long as she could keep convincing herself that he did as he pleased with her, she'd remain the chaste princess, forced by her terrible king to do all kinds of indignating, shameful things. Xeno nodded at his thoughts, packing them away for a later date; they would certainly be fun to play around with once Morgana was more comfortable with his pace. "Beast indeed..." He gave her an unapologetic smirk as she stole from him, clearly unabated despite his bold assertation of his dominance. Well, it would be boring if she just gave in right away. Yet, in the back of his mind, he was still annoyed at her defiance, like a constant prodding in the back of his head, telling him to take away her choice. The darker recesses of his mind flashed a scene of the woman, bound and gagged, helpless to resist him. Her drunken, challenging expression was replaced with one of fear and submission. He had to shake his head free of such dangerous thoughts, his tail uncoiling as he felt his tension giving way. Xeno watched her down half of the bottle's contents in one, drawn-out swig, his expression unamused, but his eyes betraying how impressed he was at the elf's resilience. It was not often one had the courage to down a drink with such a strong odor, let alone that bitterness.

"Paint something for you...?" Xeno tilted his head slightly, his ear drooping a bit in confusion. Out of all things she could ask for, she'd decided for having him paint for her? He'd only ever mentioned it as a passing comment, yet she had given it much more importance than he thought it was worth. For a man like him, hunting, smithing, perhaps even horseback-riding were more appropriate hobbies, so it seemed logical that she would poke fun of it, yet she was more fascinated in it than he had imagined she could be. When the bottle was set back down on the table, it was his turn to snatch it away, sighing audibly. "You know, my paintings aren't that special..." He admitted, taking a generous swig at the bottle, though more reserved than the woman that was currently perching herself back on his lap.

It was an effort to not break under her touch, to keep his face stony, cool, unfeeling as those slim fingers of hers drew lines over his chest. "I could just..." he leaned his head back, holding back a shiver as hot breath crashed over wet skin. "... take what I want. I'm sure you wouldn't hate that either..." Xeno wrapped his arm around her, claws hovering over her lower back, scratching at her skin lightly. Meeting her gaze nearly made his will break, his salvation in the bottle on his other hand. After a moment's silence, he downed the last of the bottle's contents, slamming the empty vessel onto the table, his eyes glazed over slightly as he met her demonic, emerald gaze again. She looked like an infamous succubus, her very image made compatible with his very dreams. "What I want?" He repeated her inquiry, his breath strong with alcohol. He could intoxicate someone with simply exhaling into them. His head wobbled slightly, his ears flickering curiously. "That's obvious, isn't it?" Xeno grinned, hand gripping her buttock, nails digging deep into the supple, firm flesh.

"I want everything about you. Your body, your love, your hatred, everything you feel... to be mine." Xeno's manhood was raging with need and the added boost of intoxication, liquid disinhibition rushing to his head and the rest of his body. Particularly, without the need to think deeply, blood could be redirected elsewhere, which Morgana would be finding out swiftly. "But if I had to choose for tonight... I think I'd like to show you what these fingers are really good for..." He'd been ignoring her needs all day long, too, and he had to make up to her. Even in his drunken stupor, he could feel the overwhelming heat between her legs, begging to be satisfied. Xeno slipped a hand into his pocket, producing a few silver coins, and tossed them onto the table before picking Morgana up in one arm, picking her bags up in the other. Despite the fuzzy state of his mind, he was still quite skillful, his muscles ingrained with graceful, though burly movements. Even as the other patrons looked up to them, he ignored them as he made his way to the stairs, climbing up them despite a few protests. Up the stairs and down the hall, he walked to Morgana's room, stopping right in front of it when he realized he had no way of opening it. Only then did he let her down.

"I wonder..." He muttered under his breath as he waited for Morgana to open the door. "I wonder if you're really ready for what I'm about to do to you..."

 

[Etheria]

Ardor filled every uttering of the tacit word, Beast. From the depths of her blackened heart, it came as an epithet of hatred. Drenched in the lies of mortal slander and broken agendas, and stained by her misguided virtue- it’d once described him as the villain of her world. Threatening to tear her entire being asunder, he was the lone black wolf. Waiting, solely existing to wreak despair upon her existence. She’d been sold the image of a savior in silver lining, as the key to her assured happiness. Her life, her reign, her soul- promised to be saved by a White Knight. That was what she’d been told. Maybe, once, that’s what she’d believed she’d wanted. Behind the frigid tundra of her feeling, she needed a reason to believe it was worth braving. That the cold was not eternal, that sweet harmony would relieve her of that weight.

Beast, had become more than just a detached adversary. She needed a villain, to heal her soul. She needed a Beast, to love her. She needed him. Hatred melted away with the ice that once coddled the slow-beating drum in her chest. She loved him because he was the villain. She loved him. Although she would not admit it in a drunken stupor. Those words deserved more than a bottle of mead and a half-assed submission. She’d lived twenty two circles of the frost, and never once said them aloud. Not even to her sisters. Not even to her animal kin. It was a first that terrified her more than any of the others, that she would surrender solely to him.

The gentle murmur of numbers under his breath, for every kiss he laid unto her until a thousand- never went unnoticed by the woman. Her heart, now hyperactive, would flutter and clench every time he managed to count. The indistinct acts of his devotion, the way the gold in his eyes shifted as they washed over each raptly placed kiss, quelled her jostled mind. Each time she convinced herself it better not to swath herself in meaningless affections, she remembered the look on his face. The way his ears would pull and twitch. The way his tail would cradle her, like she was his dearest possession. He loved her.

A century could pass, before he gave into that truth. It was possible she overshot her measuring of his bond. But she would live a century, waiting to hear those words, if the villain could truly care for her. In the present, she would indulge in every inkling he was willing to give.

His claws stroked at the small of her back, itching to latch onto her as if she’d turn to mist. Morgana watched the way his ears tilted with confusion, his tail busied by channeling consistent doses of tension. It’d become a habit of hers, to watch for the way his fur would move. As if it was the most important thing in the world. She was quickly realizing it was vital to reading him. He was perplexed by her interest in his artistic escapades, charting it off to the mere outlier it was to his personality. He skirted around the topic like it led on more than it should. The Beast was eager to bury any part of himself that didn’t exude his famed, brute demeanor. Like it was the only quality that cemented her onto his lap. Her head tilted at his dismissal, her glare becoming serious for just a second.

“If it wasn’t special, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.” She contended with absolute certainty. Her brows furrowed, her eyes reflecting the puzzled expression of his ears. “You are a man of few words. I know by now that the ones you choose to share are important.” Her hands resumed their aimless wandering across his chest. She shuddered visibly when his hands had taken to her rear, his claws finally staking claim to her flesh.

His heavy breath and the hardness beneath her legs were becoming an ample distraction, though she wasn’t drunk enough to be deterred so easily. The sound of his voice, on the other hand… had her melting into his palms.

“I want everything about you. Your body, your love, your hatred, everything you feel... to be mine.”

My love? She wished to echo. The desire to give in was strong. It was lucky that elves were so skilled at keeping secrets. Or she might’ve spilled her heart out the day she realized she couldn’t call him a Beast with honest resentment. “My hatred…” A sigh left her, bitterly thoughtful.

Her gut churned with inextinguishable desire, coiling as he professed his intentions for the night and carried her up the steps. She half-heartedly complained at the way he hauled her to her bed chamber. And wondered, why it was that he wouldn’t take her to his own. He let her down to unlock the door, and as she fished the key out of her skirt pocket, she paused. “You still think I loathe you.” She accused, key in hand only inches from the lock. Her swarming green eyes met with his, daring him to deny her. “I don’t.” She whispered, a sweetened reminder. “If I wasn’t ready for this, then I would never have been ready to start this with you.” The key made a muted click as she brushed it near the lock under the knob. “I knew what would happen as soon as I left the palace with you.”

She was reeling. He stood before her, ready to devour another piece of her if she so chose to give it. She wanted him to stop doubting her decisions to do so. “You are my mate.” The words came out in a shaky breath. “Deep down I knew that. But that’s not why I’m with you.”

Morgana broke their gaze, shoving the key into the lock, and clicking it open. “I’m with you because you’re Xeno.” The door groaned inwards, the elf taking slow, lithe steps inside. She whirled about, facing him as she padded backward towards the bed- trusting he was capable of closing the door. “The man who has an infernal hobby to paint.” A grin slithered across her lips, teasing. “The man I adore to infuriate by calling a Beast.” The backs of her thighs collided with the edge of the mattress. “The only man to lay claim to my body, heart and soul.” Her obsidian hair fluttered softly as she fell back onto the bed. Morgana’s emeralds were quivering with a variance of emotion, fueled by the demons of alcohol. Her passion only fought to clamor with her lust, writhing beneath her skin. “The man I devote my life to.” It came out quieter than she’d intended, one of her hands fisting into the sheets. She was fighting terribly, to ward of the vices of her demonic side. “The source of my madness.” Her lips curled, meaning to growl, but emerging as a purr.

 

[Carpe Diem]

“If it wasn’t special, you wouldn’t have mentioned it.” "Stop it," he uttered, sighing and shrugging his shoulders, his eyes lying elsewhere. He couldn't look her in the eyes when she looked at him so earnestly; why did he have to be so honest about these things with her? He nibbled on the inside of his lip, wishing he could turn back time and keep the information to himself. Anything to make the discussion of it stop. "It's... embarrassing." He'd eventually admit, grumbling under his breath. Xeno couldn't accept the sensible part of him that made it easy for him to bring the brush to the canvas, that allowed him to sketch for hours on end on sights that pleased him. Sometimes, he'd even try to translate his tortured emotions into something that could be seen, could be interpreted. He'd often burn the paintings right after finishing them, or tear them apart halfway through, because of how they betrayed his image as the villainous ruler of his country, someone reviled and feared by his subjects. Perhaps it was because he couldn't truly accept that part of himself that it made his gut ache with something unknown when she was so fascinated by the concept of him being an artist.

Thankfully, the discussion was shelved for another time in favor of changing their setting to someplace more private. In the brief intermission between him carrying her down the hallway and her opening the door, he'd reached to scratch behind his ear, his tail swinging to his right side as he waited anxiously. It stopped, however, upon hearing her accusation. “You still think I loathe you.” His fur stood on end, tail straight as he was caught by surprise, his eyes wide with surprise at the sudden statement. "No, I--" “I don’t.” That's not it, he wanted to say, though the explanation he'd have to give was far too embarrassing for him to seriously consider giving. How could he possibly tell her that the thought of her feeling anything for anyone else tortured him to no end? Even feeling hatred for anyone else would ruffle his fur in disturbance. Her heart was his, as she had said, so he should be the only one to command such feelings from her. Yet, to her heartfelt confession, he could say nothing. Instead, his tail reached around and he grabbed it, picking at it aimlessly.

Whether he was her mate, her jailer, her tormentor, it didn't seem to matter to her. All that mattered was who they were in that very moment. Not a king or a princess, but just a couple, walking into an inn room together, late at night. Lovers? Simple sex partners? Husband and wife? Xeno couldn't put a finger on their relationship. He was unused to simply bedding a woman and discarding her the next day, so the idea of courting, of engagement, of anything beyond just raw sex, was unlike him. There was lust, sure, but also much more. Feelings Xeno couldn't explain.

He followed close behind her, pushing the door closed and locking it behind him, but never letting his eyes leave her, much like the glare of a predator, locked onto its prey, ready to pounce and enjoy its well-earned meal. "Morgana, I..." But was he the predator, or was she? He couldn't tell, buzzed and insane from the alcohol. Had she cornered her here, or was she the one to have lured him in? He followed close after her, as she led him into the bed. He knelt over her as she allowed herself to fall back on the bed, completely vulnerable. His tail swayed, brushing against her shins, his tongue running over his dry lips as he rested a hand next to her face. "... I know, Morgana." Xeno whispered, so softly that he might not have said anything at all. Molten gold stared into deep emerald, leaning his face into her, kissing the front of her throat. Under his breath, he counted 'hundred and twenty-two', grabbing at her hips and guiding his hands down to her thighs, his thumbs catching at the hem of her skirt. "It's vague, but I can feel it... your passion. After you branded me, all those feelings came rushing to me. It's kind of overwhelming, but it made me... happy. For the longest time, all I could feel was... rage, resentment, anger... and fear. But I think I've been rediscovering happiness and... other feelings, through you." It was unlike him to speak so much, often letting his actions speak for him, but these were not things he could express through the tips of his fingers. Or at least, not without a prelude, for her to keep in mind before he got to the main course.

"Gods, this is stupid. It's not enough for you to make me feel this way, but you have to make me say it? Source of your madness, you say? Well, you're the source of my insanity. That being said..." He'd grown impatient, talking about emotions and all the things a man like him was unsuited for. If she wished for a man that would spend all night talking about his feelings, she had done wrong to catch the Beast King between her fingers. Instead of talking further, Xeno slid his index finger over her slit, superficially, and brought it up for inspection. Sure enough, she was leaking quite profusely already, no doubt from all the teasing he'd done throughout the day. "I'll make you go mad with pleasure..." He pulled back her skirt so that she was completely exposed to him, kneeling up so that he could watch her body convulse with pleasure as he went along with his business, teasing her precious womanhood mildly at first, just as he had done up till now. He'd only ever touched her superficially before, though that seemed like enough for her sensitive self, because he was afraid of overstimulating her. Tonight, though, he was ready to use his fingers at the best of his abilities... even if she fainted as a result.

With that thought in mind, he'd eventually add a second finger to his petting, using both fingers to rub along either of her nether lips, his rough, calloused fingertips rubbing with more purpose as time went on. Seconds became hours as he focused on pleasuring her, drawing circles with his fingers, emulating the strokes of his paintbrush over her delicate spot. He was careful yet resolute in his motions, gentle yet passionate. "Morgana, my princess... my kitten... my demoness. I would love nothing more than for you to bear yourself, your lustful, your shameful, your lovely self, for me. Become my canvas..."

 

[Etheria]

Darkness rose within her like the falling rain on frostbitten flowers. It melded with her seamlessly, in a way she never thought it would. An inner nature, worthy of all the spite she could muster- and yet he’d settled a years-long war she’d waged- created to eradicate the darkness within. The delicate parts of the Beast tortured him in ways she’d perfected to a point. He’d eased her self-induced torment. She only wished she could do the same for him. That was what she told herself, anyway. To relieve her of her own selfish desires. Xeno’s affection was expressed through possession. His eyes would light on fire, his jaw clenched each time her gaze wandered away from him. That impatient tail would wag its chagrin, in the moments when she altered her attention away. He was a possessive creature. Maddeningly so, that it tempted her to give away every piece she had to offer him in that moment. She craved that sort of possession. To be owned by someone, so entirely. But she was also a curious creature. Morgana’s affection whittled its ways by dissecting her lover. She ached to know every corner of his being- to understand just what made him tick. And so, his little hobby became her fascination.

Calling to the depths of her soul, her name sang off his lips from the other end of the room. The essence of midnight filtered in through the thick glass windowpanes, the glow of the moon illuminating the space between them. Feral obsession flickered under layers of liquid gold, beholding her as cherished prey. Humming, energy rattled around her aura threatening to burst with each step he took. Her breath hitched as she felt the fur of his tail tickle her legs.

“…I know, Morgana.” He whispered, his palm weighted next to her head and sinking into the mattress. He played her like a finely-tuned instrument, her lashes clashing and her sight sealed with rapture as soon as his hands found her hips.

“Ngh.” A muffled noise escaped the wreckage occurring within her core, near imploding as he counted the kiss he laid on her throat. The moment he was near, her thoughts became a blur. Cognizance was near impossible, though she hung on every syllable his lips would form. He’d never spoken to her like this before. The Beast hoarded his inner truths better than any dragon on the Western crescent mountains. She thought her heart would stop beating altogether, when he spoke of the brand. It was unknown how it would affect a man of his kind. After all, a Fae could only ever mate with another immortal. Which his kind, by nature, were not. She was shocked to hear that it did affect him. He felt her when she was tugging on the other end of the bond, ingrained in the ink.

“Do you?” She challenged his earlier statement, gritting her teeth as he neared his end. His destination was sure to unravel her intentions. But she held on. “I had not felt anything… for a very long time. I was frozen.” She gasped as his fingers brushed her nethers. It bred a surge through her bloodstream, all the way to her toes. “I was practically dead.” She persisted, daring to meet his gripping stare. Her chest heaved for oxygen, her left fang burying into the petal of her lip. Pleasure was quickly ringing in the insanity, as the wolf promised. “Until you.” Morgana exhaled, surrendering to the expressions of agony that hollowed her throat.

“Ah-” For a split second, she held onto her resolve once more. The edges of her mouth twitched upward. “Gods, huh?” It was irresistible, to mock the alpha that constantly claimed to be the agnostic, heartless king. Morgana was conscious, however, that she’d receive his retribution. Trapped between the mercy of his claws, he wouldn’t be taking any more pity on a feisty captive. It wasn’t unwelcomed. On the contrary, she invited the wolf out to play- and demanded he be hungry for blood.

Xeno’s rugged, pensive fingers made lazy circles. Exploring her folds, and spitefully spreading the wetness left by his ministrations. It wasn’t long ‘till her flesh felt as though it was singed by the devil, ripping into her skeleton and commanding the presence of her other half. Her spine was near brittle, her tail the first to slither out of the confines of her skin. She growled, her head snapping to the side as if she could hide away from her own body. It was just as unkind as the Beast above her, sprouting a pair of glistening horns from the crown of her head. Morgana hated the way her tail would writhe and twitch, giving away how truly riled she was by him. It squirmed about, unlike the princess who fought to remain unafflicted by the Beast King.

Verdant sin boiled in her glare, raising back the defiance that’d been summoned by Orc brew. “Bite me first, Beast.” She finally hissed a reply to the sweet coos meant to subdue her. “I’m unforgiving in my affections, you forget.” Morgana raised her chin in pointed provocation. “Make me purr, and I’ll be your kitten.” It was half a promise, half a threat. “Paint me with pleasure, and I’ll be your canvas.” She jibed between moans. “Mmm!” Her face grew pink, a tension building at the base between her hips. It was becoming easy to recognize the oncoming of release. An orgasm, as she so crudely put it last time. “If you want me bare…” Her wicked eyes twinkled, translating her own lust through their bond and into the brand. “Then undress me.”

 

[Carpe Diem]

“Do you?”

"I do, Morgana," he grumbled impatiently, at her continued defiance of him, even now. She didn't seem to believe him when he tried to reassure her; that he was well-aware of her unwavering affection. It must've been hard to believe a man who was infamous for being a womanizer as he was for being a despot, his penchant for cruelty extending both to his political deeds as well as his exploits in bed. So perhaps there was indeed a part of him that might not trust that she did not resent him still, but it paled in comparison to the man that craved for her attention above everything else. He'd fallen hopelessly for the creature that she was, beautiful and wicked all the same, in a way he'd never felt before. She was his first true love, someone he desired beyond mere carnal desire. Xeno knew that he loved this woman, and he was afraid of what that meant; to bear himself to her, allow her to see the weakness, the ugliness of his soul. He feared not that she would use it to destroy him, to torment him, but rather that she would be disgusted by the broken man beneath that stony exterior of his.

While his left hand administered his affectionate touches, his right hand wrapped around her head, pulling her forehead to press against his own, his lips hovering over the elf's own pink cushions. He licked his dried lips, his rough tongue brushing against Morgana's in a deliberate manner. He stared into her eyes, unflinching as she spilled her own confessions to him, talking about how he had triggered a change in her, just as she had in him. Though he was earnest in his gaze, listening to her intently, his tail was playful, taking to the man's tense tent in his pants, rock-hard and persistent in its plead for release. As much as he was elated to hear her talk so tenderly, so openly about her feelings, the sensation of the woman's soft nethers at the tip of his fingers were too exciting for him to keep his body from responding. "Mmm, you've chosen quite a terrible man to claim you." He teased simply, pressing his index and ring finger over either of her lips, pulling them apart as he ran his middle finger over her slit. Though the man was oft smug and inexpressive, he wore a slight smile over his lips, quite pleased to have managed to make the girl express herself the way she did. The same girl who'd held a dagger over his throat when they first met and had held him in knife-point when they awoke together in that tent in the forest.

Somewhere between her trying to keep her voice from leaking out and moaning softly against his skin, she teased, “Gods, huh?”, breaking his focus momentarily from touching her. His tail slammed lightly against the bedsheets in pointed offense at the slight comment, his ears pointing upwards at the top of his head. "Silence," he retorted curtly, liquid goldens glaring at the petite woman. "I will not have my plaything mock me any further." The word 'plaything' was spoken with a certain coldness to it, the fangs of the Beast King glimmering as they hung over her flesh, threatening to pierce the vulnerable skin of her throat. She was so vulnerable, he could bring a bloody end to her, drain the life from her body, and yet, as he was offended, something no other being could do and hope to come out alive, all he could think of was about toying with her. To see her face contort with lewd pleasure would be punishment enough for her. After all, a woman as dignified as her could only bear so much shame.

Surely enough, her demonic assets, which she was so staunch in keeping out of sight, found themselves slithering out of her, her tail meeting with his in its lustful writhing. Immediately his tail went to dally with it, tangling unceremoniously with it. In turn, his eyes were glued to her horns the moment they came out, temptation catching in his gut as he remembered how the woman had orgasmed so easily from him simply squeezing on one of the protusions. With how unbelievably wet she was, she would surely succumb to the same stimulation if he only so chose to abuse of her weak spot. Yet that was not his objective here. He did not mean to take shortcuts in showing her the wonders of an artist's fingers. He would show his princess how good he was at using his dexterity to paint a lewd portrait of her.

“Bite me first, Beast.” She had said after a moment's pause, his heart skipping a beat at her invitation, her request, her demand. Without a second of hesitation, Xeno digged his fangs into the side of her neck, feeling her pulse through his lips as warm nectar leaked into his mouth. He lapped at the red, tainted liquid as if it was a gift from the heavens themselves, ambers staring up at Morgana as he helped himself to her, savored her essence. His fingers only intensified the more she spoke, rallying the man to double his efforts on her body. He would make her purr like a kitten first, and she would end up panting like a bitch in heat, if he had any say in it. "Mmm, and I thought I would leave you with a modicum of modesty, at least..." He muttered as he slid his fingers up and down her slit steadily, his fingers a paintbrush drawing subtle, abstracts stroke over her tender flower. As he pulled away, he retrieved his hand from her delicates, lapping up her fluids before kneeling up, settling himself between her legs. In this position, it was clear to see that he was beyond aroused, his erection threatening to burst out of his pants. Yet he paid no mind to his own lust as the alcohol numbed him to the aching of his member, guiding him as he wordlessly tugged on her hips, unmaking the thin fabric that was her skirt.

He was methodical, expertly in unmaking the latches that held the cloth to her waist, bringing it to his face to smell her scent on it before tossing it to the side. If she had any panties on, he would've repeated the process, though he would've been tempted to steal the pair for himself, a reminder of his exploits. Instead, he brought his focus to her upper body. The garment was confusing, he would admit. Though he wasn't a stranger to ripping pieces of armor of a woman's body, he was hesitant to use brute force to free her from her constraints, instead opting to slowly and carefully peel off the threads from her body, sniffing a hint of alcohol on it, probably from using her cleavage as a makeshift cup. Sure enough, she still smelled faintly of alcohol herself when he pressed his head to her chest, using her generous bosom as a pillow, burying his face on it. He'd bring his hands to her lower parts, using one hand to keep her lips spread.

"Say, Morgana..." He spoke up, running a singular index finger over her slit, his eyes glazy from dizzy drunkenness. "Have you ever... masturbated?" He asked, stopping as he found her small, tight entrance to her pussy. She was quivering from just superficial touching, so he had to wonder if she'd ever even considered touching herself. He'd thought her sensitivity was a product of her constantly satisfying herself, but the elf princess seemed to be quite the prude before meeting him, so perhaps that was impossible. "I may not always be available to help you with your needs, so you should take a few notes..." His fingers stroked at her outer lips, his index unmoving... before penetrating her in one swift movement. Her walls clenched around him, threatening to crush the unfamiliar insertion. "... from me."

 

[Etheria]

She never knew how deeply she craved his closeness. For each small sliver of intimacy, she became hyper aware of the space between them. The air was charged with rampant desire, fuming under heavy breaths. The wolf was closer to her than he’d ever been, his forehead rested against hers- his deafening gaze all-consuming. His tongue would dart out to wet his mouth, and subsequently drag across her lips. It was a rougher texture than she’d been expecting, akin to the touch of an animal. She thought she might’ve noticed this earlier, when they’d first kissed. Yet, come to think of it, they’d never shared that type of kiss. Her gut stirred, feeling the innate need to have his tongue invade her mouth. Though pleasure seemed to overtake her growing agenda, her folds being pried apart and toyed with. Her consciousness snapped down to the movements of his finger; fluid and delicate like a painter’s hands.

All the more satisfying was his tail, furling itself around her own. It bridged the forsaken parts of her body into an equal state of delight. She could feel every fiber of fur against the smooth surface of her tail. It stimulated her subtly, heightened by her lechery and incessant writhing. The appendage coiled around his, squeezing and throbbing with the same erratic nature of her nethers. The spade continued to wiggle and tremble, offering depiction of the dissonance she was truly experiencing.

It was an ordeal to focus on his words, or even her own, as he wrought utter disaster upon her being. Dissatisfaction, desperation, and lust fought for dominance in the ridges of her mind. Pleasure would eat away at her thoughts, her will to do anything but submit- perished to dust. “Anh!” She released sound in a breathy sigh, attempting to rope some words together. “Mm, that’s princess, to you.” She corrected him, a smile on her face. It was somewhat crooked; tainted with the impurities of her bliss. “And,” she choked on her words, a moan severing the cadence of her sentiments, “princess has a thing for terrible men.” Her mind was so warped, she’d referred to herself in third person. Frankly, she couldn’t find the room to care. There was a lewdness to her slight dissociation that she found enjoyable.

Defiance was second-nature to her in this state. One of her qualities that both aroused, and annoyed the Beast to no end. It would have been prudent to strip her before he’d enacted his revenge, but Xeno was not a creature of patience. Morgana cried out as his fangs dug into neck, puncturing her flesh and burying into her veins. There was no deeper euphoria than the sound of him gulping down her crimson, liquid essence. Her hands jumped to tangle into his hair, wishing to fight off what shocks of pleasure she could. She let out a breath as he retracted, as one more moment would’ve left her convulsing in his arms.

Though along with his fangs, his hands withdrew from her body. The lack of his touch struck her like a bitter cold, leaving her in shock. And entirely new sensation had engulfed her body in one swift moment. It was worse than wanting, or the perpetual temptations he’d woven meticulously for her. It burned, and ached. This could leave her on the brink of insanity. “Xeno.” She whimpered, a small plea. Though he seemed distracted by undoing the clasps and bindings of her clothing. He was cruel to have left the task until now, leaving her to suffer the bane of lust. The process took but a few moments, but it felt like hours to the poor girl. Moisture pooled at the edges of her lashes, her soft emeralds now glossed with muted agony. Until their skin was connected once again. A sigh of relief; a surge through her veins. It was as if- being with him- was the only way to exist.

Her name rolled off his tongue in perfect harmony, his hands returning to the space between her thighs. His long, deft fingers explored her with artistic finesse. “Xeno.” This time, when his name left her- it was a praise to his return. It was short-lived. A question, then a halt. His fingers hovered over her entrance, in a way that the pent-up voice in her lungs wanted to scream. The tears collected on the beds of her lashes, slipping to fall. She was being forced to think on his query, realizing she probably wouldn’t be able to- had he not stopped.

Masturbate? She echoed the word silently, looking to him for clarification. For awhile he said nothing, but eventually spoke of satisfying her needs. Particularly when he would be unable to- due to his absence. It pained her to think he would not be by her side. And then the meaning of the word clicked. He wanted to know if she…pleasured herself? Morgana instantly colored, blooming red with shame. “I don’t know how.” She confessed, humiliated by her lack of knowledge on the subject. There had never been time for her to figure it out. And it wasn’t as if she’d ever had help. The girl hid her face in the sheets, her teeth clamping onto her lip as if it would relieve her chagrin. Xeno took advantage of her distracted, withdrawn disposition- plunging a finger into her core. Her spine arched, her eyes thrown wide, streams of tears running down her cheeks. A broken yelp escaped her, her hands flying to his shoulders. “Xeno.” It was a whimper, this time. Her nails dug into his skin, frustration beginning to ravage her senses into utter oblivion. She’d said his name like she was in pain. In a sense, she was.

“I need…more.” Morgana struggled to find her bearings, her voice quivering. She jerked her hips, vexed by the slow-burn of his affections. “Please, please…” She begged, making small, miffed noises.

“It wouldn’t be the same if it wasn’t you.” She was almost irritated with him for suggesting she bring herself pleasure. That was his domain.
“I belong to you.” Her insides clenched. “Only you can give me pleasure. My body belongs to you.” She made a growl of frustration, resisting the urge to drive her hips against his hand. She behaved, however, using the last of her self-control to quell her adamant needs.

“So make me cum.” The green in her eyes flared, impassioned. “Command my body to your will…” She cooed, her razored grip becoming sultry strokes across his back.

 

[Carpe Diem]

It was a back-and-forth dance. She would tug at him, retreat, insisting that he chased after, like the wolf that he was. His instinct betrayed him, running after the prey that had purposefully shed her blood, leaving her scent behind, for him to follow, to hunt. She was wicked, her soft, sweet voice like honey, music to his ears as he played her. He was an artist, well-versed in the act of translating his thoughts, his feelings, into physical form. Yet, with her in his arms, he was a bard, a musician with no equal. She was his song, yet at the same time, as much as she insisted, she was not his. Xeno could not feel as if she was entirely his in their current state of affairs. Not while she had not given him all that she had. Not while she still kept the one thing that kept her pure of him. He had said that he would not take her by force and he meant it; she would be the one to decide when she gave herself completely to him. And while she kept herself untainted, he would not truly feel that her words rang true. It tortured him, yet he would not push the matter.

"Mnn," he felt a shiver run up his spine, and back down, to the tip of his tail. It wiggled slightly, fighting to stay on top as Morgana's own appendage wrapped itself around his own; the smooth, leathery extremity sending the slightest shocks of pleasure reverbating through his body. It was strange, to have his tail stimulated in such a way. While other women had expressed their curiosity at the furry, arm-lengthed extension of his body, they had never been quite as fascinated by it as Morgana was. Perhaps it was destiny, too, that the couple shared such expressive extensions of themselves. His tail fought to free itself from Morgana's grip, though it was playful in the gesture rather than actually trying to break away. The tip of it rubbed against her spade, feeling it tremble. He stopped to wonder if she was feeling cold, or if there was some other reason why it shook the way it did. As if to comfort it, Xeno's tail caressed it, a low sigh leaving him as the slight action brought a sudden shock of electricity all the way to his ears, making them perk up.

As if she was in any position to nip at his patience, the elf princess went to correct him between broken sighs and moans, a somewhat welcome distraction from the peculiar way their tails dallied with each other. He growled his annoyance at her rectification, directing him to the proper manner of addressing her. "Of course, my princess..." He answered, giving the girl his own crooked smile. It was only momentarily, however, as she added in yet another tease right after. It was like a reminder of earlier, when he had expressed his discomfort at her choice of diction. Whether it was due to forgettance or in some effort to bite at him, Xeno did not know, but she had said it again. "Perhaps the princess should only have a thing for one terrible man," he snarled, his gaze faintly hostile towards the dark-haired princess. He didn't know what was more irritating; that she kept trying to annoy him, or that it worked. Out of all the people he had control over, it was her that he wanted total obedience from... and yet it was her rebellious side that he loved the most.

It surprised him every time, just how sensitive she could be. Out of all he'd done so far, it was the prick of his fangs piercing through her soft, pillowy skin that seemed to bring her closest to the brink, her voice echoing across the room, and probably out into the hallway too. He lapped up the crimson life essence from his lips, much like a dog would lick its whiskers for the remains of a meal, as he pulled back and watched her writhe, practically staving off that climax that she so desperately needed. The way her eyes watered did not miss him, a surefire way of knowing when a woman needed release. And he could clearly see that she was in dire need of one. She was pitiful in a way, which only made Xeno want to torture her more. It wasn't enough for her to simply give herself up like this. He wanted her to beg for him, to cry for him.

And so she did. Just as soon as he had started touching her, he stopped, prompting the whimpering woman to cry in frustration. It broke his heart somewhat and yet pleased him deeply to know that it was him and only him that could bring out such reactions from her. Each time his name came out of her mouth, further encouraging him to touch her more, to torment her, he felt the chains of his restraint breaking, wasting away. He'd always believed himself to be a man of strong mental willpower, despite his infamy as a womanizer, but Morgana was testing the limits of said willpower.

Just as he had suspected, she was unfamiliar with the concept of pleasuring herself, let alone knowing how to. Had she not felt lust before? Xeno understood, from what she had told him, that she'd had a sheltered lifestyle, to put it lightly, yet he didn't quite understand the severity of her ignorance in the subject. When she had tried to hide herself, and her confusing shame at her lack of knowledge, Xeno disallowed it, piercing through her walls so as to keep her mind from remaining on such matters. He kept motionless at first so as to let her body get used to the sensation of his finger inside her, but she seemed less surprised and more needy upon the insertion, as if she had been waiting for it all along. Xeno gazed up to her, meeting her eyes as he wiggled his finger slightly, scraping gently against her walls. He looked askance at her, curious to watch her expression and how she would face the situation, his ears towards her in pointed attention.

“I need…more.”

“Please, please…”

His tail slammed gently against the bedsheets, her voice riling him up in a way he couldn't keep down. He had been taking it slow this whole time, his motions that of a weathered artist, a gentle lover. And as much as she seemed to enjoy the torturously slow pace of it all, she seemed dissatisfied with it too. More, she demanded with feral desperation, looking to him through her tears. Her expression... was indescribable. He could feel that obsessive lust for him when she begged that he did more to her. Wordlessly, he did as she asked, guiding his finger deeper inside her, until it was buried completely inside her. She was unbelievably warm, her arousal past the point of reason. He bended his finger upwards, exploring with his fingers the bumps and irregularities of her walls, flicking his wrist in the smallest of manners. "You're so wet..." He muttered thoughtlessly, his voice coming out as a carnal groan, his focus and fascination aimed at how her pussy felt. Her warmth, her tightness, and the way her walls contracted and clenched around him drove him to obsess over her, cursing himself for restraining himself until now. He stroked along her, pulling his finger back until only his fingertip was inside her, and then slipping right back in its entirety. He'd repeat this for a while, in a slow manner.

Then eventually, Xeno slid his middle finger in, when he was sure she could take it. It was longer and thicker, but not by much. With the addition of his second finger, his rhythm ramped up, fingers bending outwards, spreading her walls out. As he raised the tempo, the sound of her fluids shlicking against his palm exciting the man to no end. As if driven to hear it more, Xeno's wrist moved more quickly by the second, scraping along her walls with purpose, his gaze fixed on her, watching her face contort in the smallest and biggest of ways. And then... he found her g-spot. Without meaning to, Xeno pushed against the sensitive flesh, not quite realizing that he had at first. His right ear drooped at the sensation, his fingers feeling around for that particular spot; and pressing it again. He'd do this a couple of times before gazing back up at Morgana.

"Mmm... what's this...? Does it... feel strange, Morgana...?"

 

[Etheria]

Pleasure had been different than she’d imagined it to be. The act of synchrony between two beings; writhing and bared. Trading sweat and breath for ecstasy, energy crackling into the air. Long ago, she thought it’d be a single act. Swift, painful, and enduring in front of a crowd of onlookers. The age-old tradition of a Royal Consummation, done solely for the purpose of rectifying the marriage before the Gods- and ensuring the delivery of a newborn heir. It was a cold, lifeless way to lose her virtue. Never did she believe she’d be held by his lovely claws. Patient. Eager, exploring all that she had to offer with such artistic curiosity. It wasn’t for the sake of royal tradition, or sealing a contracted promise. The Beast lusted for her. For her being, her body, her everything. He was a selfish man. The prime iteration of darkness, beautifully imbued into physical form. His jealousy for her was unmatched by the Gods themselves. She loved his jealousy. His need- to possess every emotion she could ever dream to make. To bring her pleasure, to relish in her body, in his possession- was his devout goal in those moments. He made it near impossible to reel in her desire to appease him. Under his lethal growl, his carnal fangs glistening by candlelight, his full, soft lips stretched over a heartbreaking grin- she could surrender to him. Goddess, did she want to. But, just for one more night, she wanted to revel in it. It was now her choice to give her virtue. As if it was something to be worthy of- as if it meant something. Like a gift, and not a prize.

Envy rattled down the bond, flooding her with his resentment at her use of words. He hated whenever she said it. Noting, at the possibility of caring for more than one man. More, than just him. She was nothing if not wicked, only to be trifled by her slyness in verbal torment. The dichotomy of their relationship did not escape that they were both: predatory and prey, to one another. Between her sighs and moans, she fashioned a slick smile. “I won’t.” She said defiantly, her lips curling to let out another sweet sigh. “You are the Beast King. My Beast…” Her left hand moved to stroke his face, the other- busy digging into his back. “And you are my artist. My darkness. My rival. My mate… You are many men.” Her speech was overcome by an uncharacteristic squeal, a blush coloring her face at the embarrassing sound. “I have a thing for every man that you are, and will be. Maybe the man of my children, one day.” She suggested, a lustful glean in her eyes. Something primal within her stirred at the notion of bearing his children. It was a strange type of lust, though she would not dare fuel it during times of war. She’d heard of other Elvish women, simply enjoying the feeling during their sexual escapades. After all, it was rare that they produced offspring at all. Likely to the world’s benefit- being an immortal species. She wasn’t sure what was so lewd about the concept, only that her body acted accordingly.


You’re so wet, he’d commented. An unbelievable shade of pink swept across her cheeks, her left hand that once held his face- now scattering to cover her own. “Don’t say it out loud.” She begged, desperate to save herself the shame of her indecency. The pace of his finger had been tortuously slow, bearable enough to let her speak. But horrible enough to drive her crazy. More, her body implored. Her nethers would tingle, her hips riled with an eagerness to search for something to fill her. One finger wasn’t enough. Most likely because it would never mimic what her body was searching for. As if he could read her thoughts, Xeno slid another lengthy digit into her core. She gasped loudly, surprised by the new sensation. She could easily feel her own core, gripping onto his fingers, tightening around them with each thrust. All in the same, she could now sense the friction- burning and scraping against her walls. Pain? She wondered, but the movement brought her pleasure. She wanted to be stretched wider; she wanted more pain. A myriad of noises painted the room. Her moans, his heavy breath, and the splashing of her juices- being stirred by the motions of his fingers. They curled upward, scraping, prying, until- “No!” She whimpered, a shiver riding through her so powerfully that her head shook without permission. It was like pressing a button, his fingers pushing against the area with such purpose. Her insides were exploding, almost like the pleasure was leaking past the depths of her pussy and into her stomach.

“No~” She repeated again, shakily. He was mirthful, his voice tinged with a knowing playfulness as he continued to enact torture upon her. Whatever he’d done to her, he knew exactly what he’d found. Some kind of… weak point. Blood rushed to her ears, tension in her throat as she staved off the need to scream. “No, ah! No- ohhhh!” She cried, tears streaming as her climax hit her full-force. It was deeper, more thorough than any other she’d felt before. Between the blank spots in her vision, she could hear herself squealing, crying- breathing fuller moans in between. “Xeno.” Was the first word from her lips when she finally regained her senses. She was panting, spent, unable to say much else. “Ngh.” She mumbled, reaching out- making childlike grabbing motions towards him. A sign that she needed him, his closeness. Craving his embrace. Morgana eventually nuzzled into him, sighing in contentment. She was surprisingly awake, and silent for awhile. Until sleep wormed its clutches around her. “Stay.” She whispered to him, before drifting off. She’d missed the opportunity to wake up by his side the last several times they’d been together. She only hoped he’d heed her request, to find herself in his arms by morning.

The next morning she jolted awake, far less pleasant than she’d become used to in the last few days. Subconsciously she’d been aware that she had a match today. And the colosseum would not wait if she chose not to show up. Her eyes narrowed, adjusting to the sunlight teeming through the windows. She felt stiff, and sticky, looking down to find she was naked under the sheets. Raising a hand to her lips, she licked her skin in a thoughtful manner. Salt. A thin layer of dried sweat clung to her flesh, reminding her of last night’s agenda. She flushed. “Xeno.” She recalled, worried and turning to the spot beside her. Morgana felt horrified, remembering her behavior the previous night. With alcohol in her system, she possessed little restraint. She’d been so… so… lewd. Despite his unexpected and rather accepting nature- she still feared his reaction.

 

[Carpe Diem]

Intimacy had always been something he took for granted. Ever since his first mating as part of the coming of age customs of his clan, Xeno had always thought of sex as a tool. When he'd found out that he was well-endowed and particularly gifted in the art of pleasuring women, even when he didn't mean to, he was sure of it; his desire was every woman's desire. That was why he was so confident in his ministrations, knowing that they couldn't possibly resist him, even as he forced himself upon them. But with Morgana... it was different. He had never desired a woman so desperately, to make her his wholly and undeniably, and been denied of it as long as he had. If it had been any other woman, he would have stripped her and taken her and been done with it. Morgana, however, made him relish in that wait, that hunt. She said that she was his, without a shadow of a doubt. And yet, till they were one, he would not believe it to be true. She was his prey, and he would not satisfied until she was cornered, ready to be taken by him.

It was a rotten feeling, the one she implanted in him. She mocked and nipped at his weakness, fully aware of how needy he was for her affection, to be the sole object of her adoration, and yet she would speak those words. 'Terrible men', she said, implying more than one. Yet, as she spoke further, his ears perked up, fluttering slightly. He was... many men? Indeed, he was known for many reasons, possessed countless facets of himself, but he had never been referred to... as more than a single individual. Yet, he had never shown so much of himself to anyone other than Morgana. Envy transformed into a warmth as he realized that those terrible men... were all him. She truly did only have eyes for him. "Man of... your children..." The words echoed in his mind, swimming in his psyche for a few moments longer than she'd said it. As the Beast King, of course he'd been requested to give his seed to a woman, for the sake of breeding a worthy heir, but never had he seriously considered it. Morgana's suggestion, however, riled something primal in him. To make her the mother of his children... it aroused something strange in him. He would love nothing more... but alas, that would have to wait. He would not have her bear his children in times of strife, nor while he remained the cold, cruel king that he was still.

“Don’t say it out loud.” She begged underneath her breath, attempting to hide herself away from him. "You're drenched." He insisted, murmuring it into her ear with the snarl of a starving wolf, following the scent of its prey's blood. Her shame was an aphrodisiac to him, inciting him to break down the walls of the proper princess under his body and steal away all of her dignity, strip her from her pride. As her fluids overflowed from her pussy and onto the bed, he felt his efforts being rewarded; it was only a matter of time before she was at her limit, and he would be able to hear that heavenly voice of hers, screaming sky-high to her Goddess as she showed a most unbecoming side of herself. He stole a glance at her nethers, watching as she ate up his fingers ravenously, the shlick of her juices deafening him to any other sounds besides her moans.

And as he pressed her G-spot? Well, he'd never heard a woman cry so desperately as she climaxed. Her cries threatened to make him deaf, his eyes wide in wonder as she convulsed under him, breaking into the most intense orgasm he'd ever witnessed. Her back arched, her hips jerking themselves on his digits as she lost herself in the blinding pleasure. His tail curled up, tension building in his core as he pushed his own desires down. It must've been an eternity before she came back to the mortal plane, gasping and moaning still, her body shaking in the aftershocks of her incredibly, unbelievably so, intense orgasm. To think that he could use this opportunity to take her virginity and make her orgasm countless times still... He had the iron will of a monk, to keep himself from doing so. She called his name, his ears pulling back as he was brought back to reality, to the nude woman underneath him, reaching out for him. Noticing for the first time that he was clothed and she was not, he swiftly removed himself of his own garments before joining her, wrapping his arms around her trembling body. "Of course. I'll stay with you... as long as you'll have me," he said, their hectic day together finally catching up to him, heavy eyelids fluttering to a close.

Morning came only when she stirred first, her sudden awakening making Xeno's eyes crack open lazily. His arm clung to her stomach. “Xeno.” She called, turning to look at him after a moment. In his sleepiness, he offered her a simple, dreamy smile. "Did my lewd little succubus sleep well? You certainly tired yourself out at the end there," he said, half-mockingly, half-affectionately as he recalled it. He would never forget that sight. "Quite an intense lover, aren't you? I'm definitely not complaining..."

 

[Etheria]

The Beast lay beside her, his mouth drawn into a lazy smile. His eyes were heavy with remnants of sleep, shimmering with blithe contentment. The dawn of his awakening notified her of the arm, curled tightly around her waist- connected to a very naked body. They were both nude. In bed, together. Her head nearly spun, searching for missing bits of her memory had they decided to make even more daring decisions the previous night. She was only a bit tipsy. It occurred to her that Xeno probably slept naked most of the time, and was likely the reason why he’d left her chambers early every time they’d share a bed. Still, it didn’t quite make sense. Xeno was a shameless Beast. Perhaps he only meant to avoid her temper about the matter.

Stay, she recalled saying to him; just moments before drifting into a deep slumber. She’d asked him to stay with her. It was then, that she remembered her unrest. Wishing, he would only stay by her side ‘till the morning. There was something about his leaving that made her feel uneasy. Yet, for the first time- he stayed.

“Did my lewd little succubus sleep well? You certainly tired yourself out at the end there,” he remarked. She was quickly regretting for having ever invited him. “Quite an intense lover, aren't you? I'm definitely not complaining...” Her cheeks fumed, her tail slithering out from under the sheets to shield her face. A natural instinct that provided little help. Her hands followed suit, shielding her face from his ravenous stare- her skin like a ripe berry for the picking.

“I…” Morgana lulled an empty note, too frazzled to respond. Her stomach was a mess of fluttering wings and jostling seas. “You’re the worst.” I love you, is what she meant, but lacked the nerve to say it. Words of admonishment slipped out like an old vice, opposed by the way she lied into the Beast’s arms. She nuzzled into the crook of his neck, her hands surrendering to rest upon his chest. There was a peaceful respite to the entanglement of their bodies. Her bare breasts against his chest, their flesh mingling in fresh warmth. The black coil of her tail swarmed around his, a soft exhale leaving the woman as they connected. It felt natural, good.

“I have a match, today.” Morgana’s voice was far more docile, gentler than before. It was a small reminder that they would soon have to leave the comforts of her bed, and join the prickly riff-raff of the Badlands. She lied in his arms for awhile, allowing her thoughts to wander among a plane between dream and reality. Eventually her mind meandered back into forgotten ponderings, contemplating Xeno’s odd sleeping habits. “Why did you never stay with me?” She peeked upward, her eyes inquisitive. “Why do you always take me to my bed instead of yours?” She didn’t think he’d answer. Leaving her queries behind, she slowly removed herself from him, sliding off the mattress and padding towards the washroom. Morgana halted in the doorway, glancing over her shoulder- wondering, if he’d follow.

“I have to be at the Arena in an hour. So don’t even think of pulling anything, Beast.” She warned pointedly, a smile on her lips as she disappeared into the shower.

--- A Short While Later ---

Red clung to her skin in shades of bright crimson, alarming to the eyes. It was a drastic contrast to the milky quality of her skin, colored only by a dusting of freckles every now and then. Layers of billowy chiffon draped around her figure, a set of charming, loose-fitted trousers worn at her hips. They cinched at the ankles, careful not to hinder her agile gait. Her shoes were gold fabric slippers, something more fitting for the polished floors of a palace- but nonetheless would be kicked off in time for battle. Her top showcased a gold-chained band to keep itself fastened in place. Fabric, of the same crimson chiffon, was styled in a short fashion above her midriff. Solid at the back, forming two cups at the front to cover her cleavage- bound together by similar gold chains in a criss-cross design. The chains kept a portion of her cleavage on display, but stationary, being so tightly pulled together. Despite its flashy nature, the outfit was oddly functional.

For fear that he might say something about her clothing, she’d left the room before he’d had a chance to follow after her- his nakedness being a good buffer. He would catch up soon enough, and no matter how absurd she may have looked in the garment; it would be too late to change her mind. Vatu was waiting for her outside the inn, bathing under the desert sun. He bowed his head in acknowledgement of her, leaving his perch to join her leisurely trek to the Arena. The herds of people crowding the streets parted gradually as Vatu came into sight, the tiger proudly raising his head to bask in his reputation. She was grateful for his company, if not only to create a steady path between all the pedestrians.

I’ve heard rumors. The tiger emit a low growl, catching her attention.

Morgana stiffened for a moment, worried he might bring up Xeno’s newfound relationship to her. “Oh?”

The old man still isn’t happy since the last time. He’s down one great warrior. Vatu’s tail seemed to sway at his own mention. There is a man. Many are unwilling to fight him. The old man- I think he will give this match to you.

“Why? Is he a weakling? Is that why no one wants to take him?” She asked, tilting her head at the creature as they strode through the plaza.

No. I would not take this man lightly.

Morgana heeded his warning, puzzled by the feline’s uncharacteristic worry. Tigers were possessive, and protective- however Vatu chose to be her familiar as a testament to her strength. It was strange to hear him question her.

“Your days at the Colosseum may have been more difficult than you remember, now that you’re out. But you needn’t worry about me. It only seems dangerous from outside the ring.” She insisted, hoping to dissuade him from concern. The tiger snorted, swatting his tail.

Foolish. I do not question my mistress. He argued in a stale manner, offended to be accused of concern. Morgana understood his good intentions. Though she knew the idea of danger ruffled his fur. Running a hand across the spine of his pelt, she gave him a reassuring smile. They parted ways at the Colosseum entryway, where she filed into the narrow corridors.

This round, the competitors were notified that they were allowed their own weapons. She eagerly sat at the bench near the Inner Arena gates, unhitching the mahogany box that held her brand new tools. Atop a bed of velvet, rested a pair of Silver Talons. It took her a minute to fasten herself into them, adjusting when necessary and careful not to cut herself. Morgana bit her lip, teeming with excitement as she wiggled her toes, watching the blades dance against the sand.

A familiar heavy clinking of metal roused her ears, announcing that the gates were rising. It was time. Jumping to her feet, she ducked under the lifting gate and into the pits of the Colosseum. Hollering and cheers so loud, nearly bursting her eardrums, echoed throughout the space. The Arena was packed by the thousands, the entire city seeming to have come from out of the woodwork to witness the morning battles. A horn sounded, just as unnervingly loud as the last time, quieting the audience into a pliant hum. The announcers began to speak.

“Our very own Beast Tamer,” Morgana choked down a laugh at their choice of words, knowing that Xeno was close within proximity to hear. “we have the dark-haired elf, Morgana!” There was some light jeering from the stands above, softening as her competitor made his way past the gate. Her eyes flickered towards the Northern portion of the ring, curious to witness who she would be fighting.

“He’s been in the ranks for thirteen years, but has never claimed Champion! In fact, this man has little interest in the title. He joins the Colosseum for the bloodshed. Don’t we all, folks?!” The narrator was hounding in the background, and yet Morgana’s ears felt as though they were filled with water. She couldn’t focus on the enthusiastic cries of onlookers, or the panel of commentators gearing up for the fight. Everything drew silent, at the sight of him. A monster, a creation of some hellfire worse than her own, he emerged from the shadows of the ring. His face was blemished by brutal scarring, some patches of old, missing flesh- disappearing under a mask. It was a metal contraption that covered his mouth and nose, for only the Gods knew if he possessed either. His skin was a myriad of rusted, raw pinks, and tarnished yellow flesh. She shuddered, her eyes scraping over the countless reassembling of tissue across his arms- in dastardly white marks. There were scars that marked the character of a warrior. But something in her stilled at the sight of him, as these were not the scars of a human man. He was ghastly, ornamented by rugged metal armor and a spiked pauldron on his left shoulder. He didn’t quite strike her as barbaric. The weight of his steps were tempered, and his expression unreadable. His weapons, by far, were the most perplexing of his ensemble. Chained maces, not quite flails, with extensive links that he kept wrapped around his forearms. Towards the ends of each chain, was a handle- topped with a traditional mace weapon. From what she could decipher, he liked to trap his enemies, and beat them to death. It was worse than blades or staffs. Being bludgeoned to death was not a swift end.

Cemented into the ground like stone, he did not move a muscle until the commencement of the match. His black eyes sparked to life, his arms snapping to unleash the chains bound at his arms. In a single movement, time slowed into a panic, the recoil of a chain hurdling a mace towards her. Morgana side-stepped the blow, the edge of the mace barely grazing her hip. The first move had been made in less than thirty seconds of the start of the match. Immediately, she tumbled onto her hands and feet, flipping back and forth across the area- searching for an opening. The more mobile she was, the better. A stationary target was a dead target. She kept a low posture to the ground, relying on the agility of her feet to propel her forward.

Closer. She needed to be close enough to strike. The chains were a threat to her proximity, however, and would easily ensnare her should she choose to stay close by for even more than a split second. The maces thudded against the sand, strike after strike evaded by her quick pace. But she could not escape the chains. They cut and bruised her as a result of their free rein. Yet it was the only way she could get close enough to land a hit. She primed her claws, slashing between the buckles of his armor at the sides of his abdomen. Blood spurted in her wake, the elf not halting for a moment past her strike. She pushed forward, past him, creating as much distance as she could after the blow. Despite the amount of blood staining the ground, it yielded little effect. The audience was roaring, some just as disturbed as she, witnessing his silent complacence. He did not speak. Did not hesitate. He only continued to strike. The attack hadn’t even slowed him down. It wasn’t enough. She had to aim for the vitals. It would be lethal to deliberate any longer, should he see through her intentions. Morgana used every bare moment to quicken her advances, her next movements unforeseeable to the commonly reflexed mortal. Again, she went for him, launching into an aerial position- sure to get her close enough to his throat.

That was her first mistake. Metal cradled her like a pile of snakes, the impact of the mace imminent. Mid-air, she was caught by his steel web, hearing a grunt as he yanked the chains to cinch their hold. Bones buckled and cracked before she could even reach the floor, her eyes wide as she heard the snap of her ribs. It was hard to breathe, the wind knocked from her lungs as she smacked to the ground. Her brows furrowed, her lips parted in anguish. They failed to form a sound, desperate to convey the pain now wracking her body. Her ears were ringing, the image of his blackened eyes burned into her skull. It was as if… he saw her coming. The thought was impossible, though she couldn’t bear to think as each mace came crashing down onto her back. The spikes dug into the flesh adjacent to her spine, just short of the tail beneath her skin. Her nerves were on fire. Begging to unravel the binds she laid on her physical form, preventing her horns and tail from emerging. She rumbled a short yell of pained frustration, willing herself to maintain composure.

The man dragged her slackened body across the sand, stopping her under his boot. Pressuring his heel into one of the maces, it wedged itself further into her back. Her face buried in the sand, screaming, ashamed that she could no longer hide the pain he inflicted upon her. She fought to release herself from the chains, gasping as he removed a mace, and brought it down on her back again. Her teeth clenched, saliva and blood spraying past her lips as she fended off another cry. Chains had not been her warden in a long time. She’d been held by chains many times before, in the dungeons of Rafiya. Specially made to handle unholy creatures such as herself. She could not explain the strange foresight the man possessed, but she did know that these chains were mere steel. Human forged steel.

Pain had been a familiar facet of her existence for many years. It was not a new feeling. The surrender of her bones beneath her flesh, her organs growing sluggish with exhaust. It was the chains that withdrew her from the confines of the Colosseum. They brought her to the damp undergrowth of Rafiya’s stone cells. It was a life she’d managed to forget in the last few days. A life she could finally be taken away from, thanks to the Beast that awaited her return outside the pits. She couldn’t give in. She could not abandon Rafiya. She couldn’t abandon him. Death was no longer a conceivable consequence. It was no longer an option.

Morgana hissed, a mixture of sounds grinding in her throat as she strained against her chains. She could feel his hands reaching for the handle of the mace, ready to lift and release once more. Metal groaned and shattered. Moments before another impact, she’d broken her chains, rolling out of them and hobbling to her feet. Her legs were okay. Her feet could still carry her leaden body. If she could move, then she was alive. But not for long. It had taken her some time to notice the trail of blood that followed her every step, pouring from multiple wounds. Two minutes. She had two minutes until she died of blood loss. Her eyes watered, her feet bounding against the sands as she searched for Xeno in the audience. She didn’t want him to see this.

There were no options, or room for regret. Only the shock and horror of all that witnessed a pair of onyx horns sprout from her hair. An obsidian tail followed, slithering out from her skin and into the sunlight. Pools of emerald glowed, swallowing up the roundness of her pupils into fine slits.

“Dear Gods…” One of the commentators spoke among the tirade of the crowd.

An inherent, unsettling grin spread onto Morgana’s lips- the woman approaching her opponent in a languid pace. He was more adamant than before, using one of his broken chains as a whip to reach her. It snapped straight towards her clavicle, her gentle fingers catching the broken links before impact. Color shifted down the metal, growing white-hot and searing his hand on the other end. Should she be a creature of the underworld, the fires were sure to protect her. As they did. The man growled, relinquishing his hold on his weapons. Instead, he opted for his fists, striding to meet her halfway. The following moments were a blur of ungodly savagery. Somewhere between burning the man half alive, feeding on his heart, and tearing his soul from his writhing carcass- he was left a mess of torn limbs on the ground. Some slashed apart by her talons, others peeled and ripped away. Morgana reveled in it. She wrenched the essence of his soul, his very essence of life, from the depths of his being; inhaling the substance like smoke from a flame.

Wounds began stitching themselves back into her creamy, unmarked exterior. The only evidence of her strife, displayed by the fresh coat of blood sticking to her clothes. She blinked and stood, her eyes shifting into a more humane appearance. The Colosseum was roaring with both approval and shock. Though she cared little for the mortal’s reactions, the aftereffects of hunger burrowing into her core. It was when she saw him beyond the rising gates, that she snapped back to reality. She bolted towards him, rushing into Xeno’s arms- aching to feel his presence. It wasn’t long ago that she could’ve left him, trapped an eternity apart by the boundaries of death. Her breath was heavy, her body sore. Fervently, she leapt up, catching his lips in a kiss. Relief swelled in her belly as his lips connected with hers. She held him captive in her kisses, a gentle purr escaping her every now and then. Her body was on hyperdrive. Ripped apart, pieced back together, and left with the desperate primal needs of her nature. More than the blood, there were other sticky fluids coating her thighs.

Mate, mate, mate. Her body cooed, driven by primordial instincts. It was well aware of its needs and emotions, eager to be with her mate. She felt as though she would burst, her feelings flowing like the rapids of a rainforest. Morgana could hardly contain herself, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I love you.”

It wasn’t a question, or a timid admission. With every fiber of her being, she gave him her heart with passioned ardor. Her breath slowed, her eyes somber with waves of teal. Lust made her eyelids heavy, her body reeling to sate her needs. Gradually she was becoming more aware of her own physical state. The way color and heat bled across her cheeks, displaying an emotion she’d rather not covey.

Unleashing her demonic blood did reap consequences- especially after a hunt. Emotions went wayward, splurging and raging without restraint. Worse, was the primal instinct. Insisting- demanding she copulate with her mate. Her body temperature heightened, Morgana attempting to ignore the way her tail would twitch and sway. Xeno would likely take her physical state for exhaustion, and she’d be grateful if he did. It would be a feat to climb down from her hellish high, if he continued to fuel it. Although he did well enough- simply by being near. Silently, she leaned into him, softly panting as she focused on silencing her thoughts. “I missed you.” Her hands ran along his biceps, tracing the feel of his skin against her own. The devil in her quelled slightly. Currents of unbridled heat still persisted to plague her lower half. It was an unforgiving urge, Morgana using every last ounce she had to hide it. Finally, her tail coiled around her left thigh, as if she could relieve the pyres of her wanting.

“Mmm.” She mumbled, untangling herself from the Beast. She was doing her best to stop the truths that threatened to spill from her tongue. A pair of azure jewels swept upward to meet his intense amber gaze. Her eyes quivered, her irises contracting like the tide. The grip of her tail tightened like a vice around her thigh. “Mate with me.” Her gaze was emphatic, effusing the extent to her desire. The ancient parts of her were writhing, aching to never part from her mate again. She needed him. “Please,” she added, begging for him to oblige her. The need was overwhelming. “Now.” Morgana looked away, the edges of her horns appearing to fade into a deafening shade of black. She was blushing all the way to her horns, ashamed at the drastic way her emotions would ebb and flow.

 

[Carpe Diem]

He was smug, the corners of his lips twisted upwards with clear satisfaction. He was arrogant, his tail swaying side to side, watching the girl as she, undoubtedly, found herself wondering why he was naked under the sheets of her bed. Surely they hadn't, she probably thought, and she was right. No, he was simply most comfortable without the clothes on his back, annoyed at the fact that there was something called decency. He was a creature worthy to be admired, and he knew that perfectly well. Was it so wrong, then, that he displayed himself in his splendor? Xeno knew he was narcissistic; he reveled in irritating his enemies. And, as he was soon finding out, in embarrassing the elven princess that was the target for his affections. For each time that she blushed in shame, his heart skipped a beat. He was not the kind to shower affections upon anyone, and yet she was the exception to this rule. He would go so far as to call her adorable, especially as she tried to hide her clear joy at his attention. That unearthly mark she had branded him with proved to be quite useful, as it let him know of her true feelings, even when she tried to hide them. It was vague, faint, and he only felt it when she was feeling a particularly strong emotion.

It took all of his strength not to pin her down to the bed when she futilely tried to hide her face from him, flush with embarrassment. Oh, how he wanted to ravage her and force her to be honest about her feelings. Yet her youthful, innocent face was too pure for him to do anything more than simply admire her. The corner of his lip twisted upward, smirking at her as he rolled over to his side, staring at her.

“You’re the worst.” She said, as if she was admonishing him. But he knew, from her own admission, that she liked it when he was terrible. He might've tried to argue against her, reminding her of all that she had said the night before, but he settled with knowing silence, letting her rest a little longer, against him, his fingers lazily scratching at her scalp, a contented sigh escaping him. He wished for nothing more than to be able to stay like this for all of eternity. Feeling her warmth, Xeno felt as if everything was in order, the discordance in his heart quieting itself. His heartbeat was harmonious, when her head rested upon his chest. His impatient tail settled down when hers coiled around it, lulling it into a peaceful sway. She did things to him that even he couldn't comprehend.

... Which was why he could only let out a sigh as she reminded him, and herself, that she had to leave, to fight at the cursed Colosseum. He was bitterly reminded time and time again, of their duties as royals, to eradicate the threat that loomed over both of their kingdoms. Part of him was just about ready to drop everything and take her away, so that they could be together without having to worry about all these affairs and just be... together. He reluctantly let her leave him in the bed, sitting up as she did. Her questions weighed on his mind. Why, she asked. "Because I always leave before they can wake up," he answered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "Because I've never let a woman into my bed before. I'm... afraid." He hoped she wouldn't hear him. What would she think of him, if he admitted he felt fear? She would surely revile him; the man that she claimed owned her, afraid of commitment, of all things.

He sighed and shook his head, pushing himself to his feet and following after her. He wouldn't try anything that'd make her late, at least...

---- A Few Minutes Later ----

Unlike the last time they had showered together, The Beast King behaved himself, his groping only superficial and brief. Despite her protests, Morgana did not stop him from inspecting her body, his hands lathering her skin for her. "Hot water is scarce in the mornings," he'd given as an excuse as he allowed himself into the shower, his tail swinging playfully behind him. And while she might have groaned in annoyance at his mischief, he did not push his limits this time around, conscious that there was only so much time for her to fool around with. That's why he didn't protest when she left the shower before him and simply finished refreshing himself in her absence. He might have been a whimsical creature, but he knew to respect boundaries.

Morgana was gone by the time he'd gotten out of the shower and dried himself, regrettably. He would have liked to watch as she slid into her clothes for the day, if at least so that he could take a good look at her bare body before they left for the day. He shrugged his shoulders and went to retrieve his clothes. He gave them a once-over; he might have to go and get himself some new clothes as well, now that he thought about it. Definitely nothing as flashy and attention-grabbing as his princess, but something that allow for a change of pace. He wondered if Morgana would be willing to pick out his garbs for him. ... What was he thinking? Letting her choose what clothes to wear... it was something he never would have considered a few days ago. She was turning him into a domesticated wolf. If Vian was here, he'd surely be mocking Xeno, reminding him of his promsie that he would never let a single woman tame him. His tail rocked in vexation.

He did not let himself think too deeply about it, donning his clothes and leaving the inn without a word. It was already afternoon; Windry and the bartender were swamped with work at the time, and so they did not even bat an eyelash at Xeno as he left. For the better, too, because the king had half a mind to let Morgana know- that he was not a beast to be tamed. He didn't even know why it bothered him so, just that his pride as a man - as a wolf - would not let him go down so easily. He pushed through the sea of faceless individuals, his tall disposition making it easier for him to simply break through the countless crowds.

There was chatter among the commonfolk, that the newly-arrived elf was set to battle against a man referred to only as The Nameless; a man rumored to be less human and more monstruous. They spoke of his ungodly strength, his ferocity, but above all they talked of his habit to tear his victims limb from limb. Thirteen years a participant in the Colosseum and yet not once had touched the title of Champion. If anyone was closest to the Champion, it was probably him, they said. They called Morgana unfortunate for having her second match be set against him, but Xeno scoffed at them. They simply did not know of his princess' strength. She would show them.

Because he was not set to fight today, Xeno could not enter through the participant's door, something that he'd been told when he went to wait for Morgana the day before yesterday. He'd made a scene then, but as he approached the entrance, the guards huddled together and all he could do was snarl in annoyance. It would do no good if he tried to break past them just to be able to see her fight from closer up. For now, he tossed a handful of silver coins on the table next to the spectators' stands, the Magistrate giving him a dirty look before taking the coins. He motioned the guards to let him in, despite the fact that Xeno had cut in line. Nobody was willing to call him out on it, either, so he was allowed in with no resistance.

Once there, it was only a few minutes before Morgana's entrance was announced, given a title that... irritated him, to say the least. "Only Beast she's tamed is that overgrown cat," he growled under his breath, hands crossed over his chest. She'd be wise to avoid making a comment about it when she came back, or she would find herself unable to walk the next day, when he was done with her. She would come to realize the true reason why they called him a Beast.

More than that, however, what concerned him was the sight of her opponent, dragging himself, no, itself into the Arena. "It cannot be..." He muttered under his breath, incredulous to what he was seeing. Its face was obscured by a heavy metal mask, its skin stitched together haphazardly from what he could only guess was continued abuse. No human body could take such punishment and continue to move. No, that thing was not human. It was not alive. "Grimm..." The Necromancer. This was unlike anything he'd seen in the frontlines, but the signs were there. It shambled without purpose, dragging its chains across the dirt. If he was the one down there, he'd probably hear inhuman groaning, though it was not from pain... it was more like the body refused to move, and so it was forced to do so, to stay in motion constantly. The vocal chords were kept in perpetual movement as a result, as if the body would stop if they did.

Xeno gritted his teeth, clenched his fists. Most of the bodies his army fought were ready to fall apart upon a single slash, but they would rise back up after a while. This... monster looked much sturdier, much harder to neutralize. Not even ten of his men would stand a chance against it. As much as it pained him to admit it... he was worried. He couldn't be so sure that Morgana would come out unscathed. It was unthinkable, but... Xeno prayed for her safety. "Gods, protect her..." He uttered as the announcer called for a start to the battle.

His fears turned to truth almost immediately. It all happened too quickly for him to comprehend at first. He would have been unable to evade its first attack, forced to take the brunt of it. He was tougher than Morgana physically, but not as nimble, so it wouldn't have posed as much of a threat to him, but regardless of that, it was far too quick for such a burly mass. He sighed a breath of relief as Morgana narrowly avoided it, yet he knew it was too soon to relax. The battle raged on, as Morgana struggled to find any kind of reprieve from its attacks, to find a single opening. If it had been him, he would have been forced to trade blow for blow, taking it into a battle of attrition. Whether that would have worked... he'd never know. Xeno watched with bated breath, his chest tense with concern, as Morgana skipped around the battlefield, looking for the chance to strike... and when she did-- That was when her defense broke.

One attack was enough to sway the battle into the monster's favor. Morgana did valiantly to extend the battle as long as she did, but it was only a matter of time before she fell to him. "Morgana...!" He couldn't take it; couldn't take watching his beloved woman being tossed around like that. His voice boomed from the stands, stunning everyone into silence. The king's decree echoed through the Colosseum, and everyone listened. Except for The Nameless. "Stop...!" He ordered, to no avail. Whether she heard him or not, he couldn't tell from here. When words proved useless, he had no other choice; he shot down the stairs, running across the halls with the speed of a raging bull, and when the guards tried to stop him - they, too, made way for the Beast King. No one would be foolish enoug
"Lift them up!" He ordered in his rage.

"We can't-- the Magistrate has said the bars only lift once the victor has been decided--" The burly man wasn't able to finish talking, as Xeno lifted him up in the air by the neck with a single arm.
"Lift. Them. Up--" And then the crowd roared. Had he been too late? "No..." He dropped the guard and turned to the arena, trying to see through the bars; who the victor was. They lifted a few seconds later and he stood there, dumbfounded. "Morgana...?" Not only was she still alive... but the monster lay dead, motionless. He couldn't even begin to connect the dots on what had just happened before she was on him, his eyes wide in disbelief as he caught her in his arms, her lips on his. Thought left him, only her kiss on his mind. She had kissed him. Up until now, such an action had been left exclusively to him. He held her tightly in his arms, as if letting her go would make her disappear from him. Whatever had happened didn't matter, the only important thing was that she was safe. He told himself that, as he lifted her up by the waist.

“I love you.”

Three words had never had so much power over him. He froze in shock, wondering for a moment - if she had said them, or if he had only imagined it. When he observed her expression, though, it was clear. She had said it, before he had even the courage to think it. He loved her too, but he was too scared to say it yet. "I..." His mouth went dry, his voice escaping him, when he tried.
She was hot. She was fuming. No, she was practically on fire. He knew this heat, from back when she had brutalized those thugs that had tried to hustle her, thinking her to be a defenseless damsel. But this was much more intense. Particularly-- the heat between her thighs. "Morgana, you..." It must've been unbearable for her. He could practically smell it; her need to mate.

“I missed you.” She said beneath needy pants, the which of he knew far too well. She was in heat. He could only imagine the desire that was ravaging her body. Why did she lie? Was she ashamed of her body's need for him? Was she so stubborn as to brave this unbearable yearning... just so she could hang her virtue over him, like a carrot? He wanted to ask her, to tell her that he was more than aware of her predicament, but he held back, letting the girl work through her thoughts. She was most likely a mess of thoughts, all converging, swimming in her mind.

As she drew away from him, he was afraid she would try to sweep it under the rag, maybe even run away. But... “Mate with me.” She said outright. "Morgana..." He'd been waiting to hear those words from her for an eternity, it seemed. “Please,” she begged. “Now.” She demanded. Xeno... simply nodded. "Give me some time." He asked, taking her hand in his own, tracing her fingers with his own. "Go to the inn. I've some preparations to make. Wait for me there. I'll come for you when it's all done." He was resolute, sober as he let go of her, painful as it was to leave her. He didn't want to leave her there, in her need... but there were some things he needed to do beforehand.

---- A few hours later ----

The sun was setting, by the time he made his way back to the inn. The streets that were usually filled with the rabble were deserted now, as he walked into the inn, his gaze immediately landing on the woman waiting for him there. Everyone else did not exist, as he made a straight line for her, picking her up without a word. "Come," he ordered, hearing not her protests or complaints, taking her to the stables. Xeno lifted her up to his horse before unroping the creature and climbing up himself, letting her rest against his chest. "How are you feeling?" He asked as he directed the steed to the outside, and down the streets, to the southern gate of the city. As they went past the guards, he exchanged a knowing look with them, breaking into a gallop once he was sure they were clear of the city.

It was at least a half-hour before they made it to their destination; an oasis a few miles from the city, a private land owned by one of the landlords in the city. It had taken some bargaining to be given the exact location, and permission to use it. Where there should've been sand, there was grass, green, soft and abundant. Lying around was drywood, which he'd bought from the market, for they would not be making it back to the inn tonight. Fruit and some dried meat, as well as fresh meat that he'd paid a pretty penny to get from the merchants. Anything they might want or need... was there, for them to take. Xeno made sure of it, his efforts thorough as they were swift.

He stopped, letting Morgana down before he took his horse to a palm tree nearby and tied its rope to it. When it was secured, he walked up to Morgana, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. "As a coming-of-age custom in my tribe, we are to lose our virginity. We are meant to procreate, so it is a way to ease us into the sacred act of breeding. I hope this location is to your liking. It's the best I could find. I wanted... to make this as special as I could for you. I don't want to simply take you, as I would have done with any other woman. I'm done with that. Today... I want us to be one. I want to become yours, Morgana, as you give yourself to me. So..."

He spun her around, placing a kiss on her lips. "For tonight, it's only just us..." He said against her lips before connecting them again; and slipping his tongue in, engaging the small woman into a deep, wet kiss. His tongue wrestled hers, her taste pervading his senses.

"Bare yourself for me, Morgana..."

 

[Etheria]

Navy rippled into the sky, conquering the sun into a mistress of night. The weathering coals of the morning mingled on the horizon, violet clouds scoring over a lilac heaven. Her blood waded with the tide of the moon, jostling against the tunnels of her veins. The essence of her body was ruled by demonic purpose, reborn in fractured starlight and shadow. It was the result of a brush with death, only hours ago. Each moment since she would drift further into the clutches of her roots. Ancient, driven by primordial precedent. The distance between her, and her mate had grown unbearable. The longer Xeno spent apart from her, the more her body was determined to tear itself apart. Instinct governed the recesses of her soul, demanding her limbs to spring against the grounds till they ached- searching, hunting for him. It took all her self-control to remain still, planted in a lonely corner of the tavern. Her muscles were on fire as she willed them to behave. She’d never fully understood the workings of the immortal mating bond, only that it was built into their blood- leftover from the very beginnings of time. When they kind were nothing more than feral creatures of the earth. She was starting to understand why it was that Elven couples, with a fresh mating bond, would take a honeymoon to themselves. They’d hide away, allowing the commands of nature to run its course. Emotions would heighten to radical lengths, petty jealousy turning into a searing territorial rage. Love would become pure obsession, and lust- the ultimate demand.

Unleashing the suppression of her true natures had sent them into overdrive. What was once a casual mating bond- if a mating bond could ever be considered casual- became the primal ritual it once was. The darker parts of her were in harmonious agreement to the mating bond, eager to support a means to sustenance. Making love for any immortal would exude great floods of magic into the atmosphere, generated from the soul. It was an essence that most demons craved. Just as the blood, or the soul contained the same magic, both destruction and the attempt at creation generated the same effects.

Morgana stood with her palms at her sides, her nails digging into the wood of the wall behind her. She’d managed to clean herself up, her garb equally free of filth. She even had the time to mend any minor tears from battle, the task having kept her distracted from her maddening instincts. But it seemed her luck had finally run out, forced to be left by her own devices. The only way she could cope without inciting violence, was by recounting the last moments she’d seen Xeno. She lost herself in the memory of his lips against her own, and the image of his painstakingly beautiful features as she’d revealed the murmurings of her heart. She remembered the desperation on his face when he’d first reached the gates. The bleeding shock, when she’d told him she loved him. And sober understanding, when she’d begged to mate with him. Panic settled into her system, destitute from any inkling of the Beast’s emotions. An unconsummated bond was weak, unable to tug and reach her other half from far distances. She couldn’t sense the tethers that bound them, imbued in his brand- and into her very core. Morgana’s eyes clamped shut, her mind teetering on the possibility that he’d left her. Maybe he’d seen the events at the Colosseum, and the monstrous way she’d devoured a man’s soul. She consumed any record of his existence, burning it into sheer nothingness. It was a terrifying fate, and a cruel power. Maybe, not even a Beast could love her.

Just as her hope began to dwindle, her resolve crumpling under the force of her feral urges, the front door of the inn split open. Her quivering emeralds flit upward, met with the sight of the Beast. Her heart shot into her throat, the wolf making a straight line for her. There was an urgency to his gait, his steps weighted and steadfast. His expression was void of patience, uttering a single command as he gathered her into his arms. Her mind hadn’t caught up with her body, instantly magnetized to him. She was protesting the spectacle of him carrying her, between her shortened breaths. He didn’t seem to care, as if he innately understood the truth of her body’s state. Outside, he mounted her onto his horse- following soon after with his chest firmly supporting her back. It was a blessing. For, she feared she could not ride upright on her own. The feverish condition she was suffering seemed to quell slightly in his presence, the tightness in her chest loosening into reprieve. His heat burned into her back, Morgana pressing into him as though she were a starving animal.

How are you feeling? He asked, as they began to ride towards the outskirts of the city. She could feel the way his voice rumbled within his chest, her back shuddering at the sound. It was like medicine, a cure to her restless heart.

She took a heated breath, before answering him. “I thought I was going to die if I remained apart from you any longer.” Morgana allowed herself to be honest, casting aside the worry she once felt. Anxiety and fear melted away in his presence. He came back for her. There was no reason to continue dwelling on a hesitance that didn’t exist. When he’d come for her, it seemed he also experience a degree of pain- being apart from her. He cared for her. He wanted her. It was apparent in how he’d broken the horse into a gallop.

She’d spent the ride pressing into every inch of him she could reach, her tail curling around the end of his own. She was hungry for any piece of him that would hold her over, until they reached wherever they were headed. It felt like an eternity until they’d arrived at their destination; an oasis of greenery. It was likely the same land that Vatu had gone hunting, a jungled little paradise. The tropical forest was vast in its own right, though surrounded by a territory of sand dunes. It went on for acres, flourishing under the presence of a river and fertile soil.

Xeno dismounted from the horse, helping her to the lush undergrowth. She immediately kicked off her flat sandals, pleased by the feeling of plush moss and dirt beneath her feet. Venturing off to anchor the horse at a distance, he’d left her in a clearing that was aided by a stack of firewood. There was also a supply of fruits and meats, the entire site appearing like an offering. Was this what he had been spending all that time doing? He didn’t have to, he didn’t need to do any of this for her. All she needed, was him. His arms cradled around her waist from behind as he rejoined her, speaking in soft tones. She felt as though she were being properly courted. As he divulged another detail of his past, holding her in his arms; it felt like a distant dream. Where she was more than just a crown, or a nation. She felt like a woman.

“Foolish Beast…” She sighed as he twirled her about, her labored breaths muffled by a kiss. Her heart skipped a beat, leaping in double-time as he captured her lips. She still wasn’t used to the way he kissed her. It stirred all kinds of emotions, feeding her addiction to his affection. “I only needed you.” She mumbled against his lips, her brows furrowed in disbelief. “I thought I was going crazy when you’d left. My body couldn’t…” Her cheeks grew into a florid, delicate pink. “I couldn’t handle it.”

His mouth greeted hers once more, this time with far less reserve. His lips were smooth, and wet- the roughness of his tongue sweeping past her lips. Her gut twisted, her hands rapidly embedding into his hair. The Beast’s tongue both worshiped and fought to explore her mouth, her tongue responding with equal fervency. He tortured her like no other creature, parting from their kiss and leaving her in tender agony.

“Bare yourself for me, Morgana…” He breathed, the taste of his exhale like dark ale and cinnamon. She shook her head, brushing her nose with his in askance for another kiss.

“Tear them off.” She whispered, breathless. She felt silly for ever bothering to mend the crimson outfit, whilst asking him to ruin it. But she didn’t care for a medley of fancy fabric. She wanted him. Her body was in so much turmoil, she wasn’t sure if she even had it in her to part from him again. “Make me yours.” Her eyes were ever-shifting, taking on the darker hues of ocean and forest. They were depthless, akin to her harrowing sense of desire.

 

[Carpe Diem]

“I thought I was going to die if I remained apart from you any longer.”

He should've felt guilty, repentant even, to make her go through such torture. Though their connection was latent, subtle at best, he could feel the remnants of her anxiety yet, lingering in her chest, suffering her through her worries. He didn't know what exactly it was that going through her mind while she waited for him, but it must've felt like an eternity. He was only regretful of how long it took to strong-arm the owner of the land they'd be using. A simple mention of his true identity would've done it, but he had to be cautious. No matter that. What disturbed him was how her words did not instill in him the need to answer her with an apology, but instead how his lips curved upward, into an egotistic smirk as she leaned into his chest. The fact that she was needy for Xeno drove him insane. To know that he could cause these feelings in the princess that once gave him the cold shoulder filled him with a pride like no other. More than having bedded countless women before her, or having bested numerous wild animals in his hunts, or even how he had claimed the throne from a false king by way of sword... It was his conquest of this woman, his princess, that made the man swell with arrogance.

He said nothing as he set her down on the ground, watching for her reaction before making a move. “Foolish Beast…” Words that would've once been uttered in resentment were now but a sigh of longing, of frustration. Xeno's ears fluttered at the sound of her voice, a shudder running down his spine as let his hands fall to her hips, wrapped neatly around her. She reproached him for making her wait, her words a subtle suggestion. She only needed him, she said- yet, he felt she deserved more than just him. "And I only need you. But... your virtue is much too valuable to be lost in some dingy, gods-forsaken inn. I want no one to hear the moment that I take your virginity. Only nature may be the witness to our consummation." Not a week earlier, he would've laughed at his own words, calling himself a softy; some shell of a man. Tonight, however, he wanted only to make it known to her how precious she was to him.

“I thought I was going crazy when you’d left. My body couldn’t…”

Sharp whites reflected the moonlight, the Beast King's grin both menacing and suggestive. "Did your body also miss me, just as you did? I have yet to make my mark on you, and yet you yearn for me..." Her shame was his aphrodisiac. Each time they engaged in an intimate embrace, or simply just talked of carnal affairs, he found himself aroused at the very sight of those pinkened cheeks of hers, colored by her shame. His tail wagged pleasantly as he buried his lips into hers, a muffled groan into her mouth as she dug her nails into his skull. Those wicked claws of hers, capable of killing him, of taking his rotten heart with ease, relaxed into his scalp. The wolf was unable to suppress a subtle kick of his leg at the motion, his tail jerking slightly. He nipped at her lip, his eyelids heavy as he pulled away. He was slightly miffed at how easily she triggered a response from him, but nonetheless aroused. He wanted her to... scratch the back of his ears, but he would never admit it.

As if defiance was her creed, her only purpose in life, she shook her head at his command. He dug his nails into her waist, a sensation different from regular annoyance growing in his gut. “Tear them off.” She murmured to him, her breath crashing into his lips. “Make me yours.” His mind raced back to his court, where he had declared that he would take her, not by force, but because she would beg for him to do it; he would hunt her, corner her, and then conquer her. It occurred to him that it was this moment, right now, that he had been talking about. "... Very well." He uttered, taking in a deep breath before taking her lips in his once more, pushing her up against a nearby palm tree as his tongue went to ravage the insides of her mouth. He savored her, as his hands acquainted themselves to her outfit, his fingertips feeling the silky, almost velvety fabric. He remembered there being tears and holes in it when she first came out of the arena, but they were nowhere to be found, no doubt a result of her work. Was she knowledgeable in the art of knitting? ... Why was he even thinking of that in this very moment?

It was a shame, to undo her work, but such a sentiment had no place in his mind at this moment. “Make me yours.” She had said, unaware of the beast she had let free. Claws dug into her skin, tearing off her top with little effort. The garment could hardly be called a top, with how revealing it was, and it proved so by the ease in which he tore it off, with little but a flick of his wrist. He slipped it off her back, tossing it to the side, taking a moment to pull away from their kiss, if only to avoid suffocating. He grabbed at the hem of his tunic and removed the garb as well, relieving himself of the sweat-drenched top. "Such hefty, abundant breasts are unfair on a woman as small and lean as you..." He sighed before smacking his lips on hers, their teeth clicking together with the force in which he kissed her. His hands reached up to knead the mounds in his calloused fingertips, pushing her body up against the roughness of the palm tree's trunk; they were barely big enough to contain them, the pillowy flesh overflowing from the cracks between his fingers. After playing with them for a bit, he broke the kiss yet again, turning the princess so that her back was facing him.

Xeno kicked off his boots and unmade his belt, dropping his pants and underwear in a bunch before laying his hands on her once again. He bent her over against the palm tree, grabbing at her hips and... yanking her trousers off her. Piece by piece, the silky pants were torn off her body, until only a pair of panties were left, and even those only stayed on for a few seconds as he peeled off the remains of what had once been a dignified outfit, if only one that made her sensuality all that more apparent. With the panties now joining the mound of ruined clothes, there was nothing stopping him from ravaging her.

He put his hand over her slit, feeling the undeniable wetness overflowing from her. Whether she had been wet from the moment they had arrived or if she had only become this drenched in the process in which he tore her clothes from her, he couldn't tell, but he didn't care that much either. He ran his fingers over her lips, spreading and massaging the edges of her pussy leisurely as he pressed his hot coal atop her cheeks. An arm wrapped around her chest, catching a breast in his claws as he rubbed his manhood over her backside. "Have you been this soaked since before I left you?" He asked, pinching a nipple between his index and thumb as he pulled her to him, off of the palm tree. "Was my instruction not enough? I clearly remember telling you to masturbate if you needed to, while I was gone..." He teased, slipping his fingers past her lips and inside her with ease, the digits exploring her freely as he blew hot air onto her ear.

"Of course, I can't blame you for wanting to wait till I came back, either. So, are you happy with me toying with you like this? I could spend all night, just getting to know your entire body, you know..."

 

[Etheria]

The jungle was soundless. A faint breeze would ruffle the leaves of the canopy above, in a soft accompaniment to the fervent joining of their bodies. Not a single bird chirped, nor wild inhabitants of the tropical forest dared near their domain. She suspected that it was Xeno’s presence that kept the restless creatures at bay. He was animalkind, a ferocious wolf, and Alpha amongst all of his species. Morgana had never quite sensed the raw truth of his Beastly nature. Sheer power roiled off his skin in a force that was blustering; savage. Every hair stood on edge, her flesh riled by uncharacteristic fear. Under the cover of palms, drooping eucalyptus, and all-consuming ivy, he had reverted to the primal being that reigned over the natural world. The roll of muscle beneath his tanned skin, the way it tensed and rippled with his every move sent shivers down her spine. Fervid claws snagged onto the red fabric of her clothes, shredding the garments with frightening ease. Hunger ignited in her verdant, watchful eyes as he removed himself from his garb- reflected in his gaze.

Swarming gold gems devoured the sight of her naked torso, pink flooding under her gently freckled cheeks and delicate nose. He was savoring the tangible image of her, bare. It was different from when he’d first seen a glimpse of her in the throne room of Karindo. Back then, it was an assessment of her form. Yet now, it was a look of ardor. Obsession; harbored by the compulsive, territorial Beast. He uttered words that drowned her in her own shame, but allowed her little time to sink in it- smashing their lips together in aggressive attempts to consume all space between them. Their teeth would clash, his fangs running across her soft lips, his abrasive tongue claiming possession thereafter. Her back thudded against the bark of a palm tree, cornered as he grabbed at her unbound breasts. Her nipples hardened in praise of his touch, addicted to the feeling of his calloused fingers chafing against her naked skin. It was rapturous, infecting the rest of her body with the same need for attention.

Whirled about in his hold, he silently ordered she face with her back to him. Her body revolted in anarchy as he withdrew, erupting into a hellfire. Still, she behaved- bent over as he’d left her, her hands glued to the tree trunk in subservient waiting for him. She could hear the remainder of his clothes being shucked to the ground, her own quickly adding to the pile.

“Such hefty, abundant breasts are unfair on a woman as small and lean as you...”

“You forget I’m an elf.” Her eyes drifted back towards the Beast, a haughty retort to his lecherous comment. The angle of her head boasted her chin high into the air, ever-prideful. Almost instantly she was reminded of her place in counterpart to the Beast as his hand grazed against the sensitive flesh between her legs. She jumped in response to the contact, a breath escaping her as she felt his fingers mingle with her pooling core. The black cord of her tail swayed with pleasure, displaying how happy she truly was to receive his touch. There was no longer any use in hiding her love for the situation. She adored being spread and possessed by him. It was absurdly satisfying; providing a maddening source of fulfillment. Morgana liked to be owned. She craved the affection that was eternal and horrific in its appetite. Just as his erection laid between the pillows of her backside, her spine arched, Morgana pushing into him. The elf wiggled her hips, wordlessly pleading for him to continue. He was teasing her, now of all times. It was pure torture, to feel his heat- thick and hard against her. It was a monstrous thing, and although she was almost certain she would break if he put it inside her- she wanted it. Her body yearned for it, begging to be filled and kissed from the inside out. She yearned for him. And so it baffled her to witness his patience, sadistically mocking her body’s pitiful state.

“Have you been this soaked since before I left you?”

“What do you think?” She snapped sarcastically, her nails digging into the tree bark as if it could relieve her anguish. Xeno was merciless, removing her only relief of tension by pulling her against him. Her back to his torso, he pinched one of her nipples in demand for an answer.

“Was my instruction not enough? I clearly remember telling you to masturbate if you needed to, while I was gone...” She could hear the smugness in his voice.

“I could never- ah!” Her futile attempt to spite him was overrun by the invasion of his long, deft fingers- shoving into her core. He reveled in his ability to torment her, blowing hot air against ear. It elicit a shiver from the woman, another sound of lust prying her lips apart.

“So, are you happy with me toying with you like this? I could spend all night, just getting to know your entire body, you know...”

“Beast!” She cursed him, her lips curling into a snarl. He was a cruel man. “I swear if you don’t fuck me right now, Xeno-” Her brows drew into an expression of dismay, her breath evaporating into steam. Searing flame built at the base of her throat, her horns aching. The demonic caverns of her being demanded satisfaction, furthering the frantic parts of her elven instincts. “Ngh…” She gasped, her claws clasping onto his thigh. It was unbearable. She thought she was going to light up and burn like a candle, the mating bond roaring and raging beneath her skin. “I’m not happy.” Morgana caved, her tone tinged with a humbling meekness in her submission. “Not until you fill me with your cock.” She begged in a subtle plea, her voice breaking. “I want you to fill me. I want to be yours.” She whimpered.

 

[Carpe Diem]

“You forget I’m an elf.”

"I forget nothing." He barked back, irritation seething from his lips as he continued to mold her breasts in the shape of his palms, appreciating how she possessed not a single scar or wound in her skin. Being a demon must've been quite convenient; she had not to fear battle scars, because she could simply stitch herself together with her unholy magic, just like she had done back in the arena. Under the dim light of the moon, he pressed his forehead against hers, burning the image of her bosom into his mind. Every freckle, every curve, and especially that delicious valley between both mounds, gigantic as it was. To think that of all the beautiful men she could have been courted with, she allowed herself to fall for him, a wicked beast, whose hands were marked by his experience in the battlefield. His palms were rough, the backs an unpleasant sight, lined with scars. "I have seen my fair share of elven women and men. They are not quite as... petite as you." He offered in explanation, bringing attention to how he easily towered at least a head above her. And that was simply in terms of height, nothing to mention of her slender figure. She had meat only in the most important of places, like her thighs, her breasts, her ass... And that was pretty much it. The rest of her body was made to seem like her creator had an excess of flesh to make her with and so they decided to add it to her most sensual spots, as if she wasn't enough of a heartbreaker already.

“What do you think?” She hissed at him, her impatience quickly becoming apparent the more he teased her. He grinded his fingers against her inner walls, unamused by the tone she took. "I think you are forgetting your current position," Xeno replied, the slightest hint of anger in his tone as he carved the shape of his fingers into her, his nails scratching against her in the slightest of ways. He was smirking, but that did not betray his waning patience for her tone. When he spoke of her position, he meant both literally, drenched and helpless in his arms, and figuratively, a victim to his ever-whimsical nature; if he so decided, he would toy with her as long as he wanted, even if that meant till the sunrise. Luckily for both of them, he was just as eager to get started. "By the time I'm done with you, you won't even remember what sarcasm is, so I suppose it's fine if you get it out of your system now..." That said, he wasn't going to give her another chance like that. Whatever intentions he had to draw it out were dashed by her next words.

“I swear if you don’t fuck me right now, Xeno-” "Hm...?" He was curious to hear what she had to say. What, he wondered, would she do? It had been her that pleaded for him to mate with her, so what was it that she would do to force him to do it? Leave by herself, to face the brunt of her lust by herself? She had already expressed her thoughts towards pleasuring herself; she wasn't going to resort to that and it would be quite grueling to simply let it pass with time, like a fever of sorts. She wouldn't pin him down and take the lead, not because she didn't have the ability to, but because she was adamant about him fucking her, and not the other way around. So it had to be him that took her and there was no way she could force him to. So the only thing she could do... was beg. And so beg she did, clearly expressing her frustration to him. It was heartwrenching, to see the princess in such a pitiful state. Was it like this that he wanted her to be?

Xeno gave himself a mental slap on the head for forcing Morgana to beg. It was a bad habit of his, to toy with his food like he did, part of his ancestry as a wolf-kind, as an Alpha. His tail wrapped around her wrist, pulling away her hand from his thigh and twirling her around once more, so that she was facing him. "You need not beg any longer." He said, grabbing the elven girl by the shoulders and pinning her down to the ground, the cool grass spreading under her. The moonlight reflected off her pale face and chest, revealing to him her inscrutable expression, a mix of frustration, lust, and a myriad other emotions he couldn't make out. He lifted either of her legs up in the air, pulling them to opposite directions as he settled between them, resting his manhood against her slit. Xeno would have thought to have Morgana lubricate him with a blowjob if he wasn't already at his limit with the foreplay. Instead, he rubbed himself against her drenched lips, bumping the tip of his cock against her clit each time he grinded his hips against hers. After a few seconds, he was soaked in her fluids, ready to take her.

He leaned into her, pushing his hips against her. With a grunt, he put a hand over her cheek, his thumb over her mouth, his other arm wrapped around her leg and pulling her to him. "... You're quite tight, even for a virgin..." He mumbled under his breath, the slightest hint of frustration as he found her pussy giving resistance to his cock. Slowly, her entrance allowed his tip inside. It was at least a minute of struggle before he'd pushed in a fourth of him, her lips visibly spread out from the girthy insertion. He did not stop, even to take a breath, sinking himself into her with determination. It was as though her body feared giving up that virtue of hers, even when she had already decided to give it to him. "Ngh...!" But he didn't care much for that thought, giving a strong shove of his hips and sinking himself entirely inside her, his cock disappearing completely as he did. He stopped only then, to catch his breath, the hand that had been holding her leg falling to rest next to her head. "Seems even your body lives to defy me." He commented between breaths, his expression somewhere between amusement and annoyance, but only remaining so for a second before he started moving again, slowly, gently at first, to give Morgana the chance to get used to his presence within her. Each time he rocked his hips, the head of his cock kissed against her cervix, proof of how big he was, or perhaps how small she really was. Either way, the difference in their size meant that she was squeezing down on him like he'd never been in his life. She really was unbelievably tight.

"Do let me... know if it hurts." He said, trying a different angle each time he withdrew his hips, only to thrust again, in a steady rhythm, feeling every bump and ridge of her pussy. While he did, his tail searched for hers underneath him, desperate to feel her smoothness against his furry appendage, to know just exactly how she was feeling, how he made her feel.

 

[Etheria]

He wore a crown of cruelty, embedded in his every rapt movement. A sensual mouth pulled into a salacious display, his seductive lips stretched over his glistening teeth- baring a pair of vengeful fangs. Her gut stirred at the sight. She felt heavy, and helpless to his whims. The rage of lust that bubbled in her veins would evaporate into euphoria. He was a hellish god, Morgana tethered to his commands as if they were made law to her physical being. His fingers were buried in her core, carving their desire into her with languid strokes. She could feel his claws scrape against her walls, making their ownership known in their deliverance of pleasure. All the while, his eyes would rake over her form. It was different from how he’d beheld her in the past. His gaze was more thorough, burnished by animal hunger. It was as if he were memorizing every detail, every freckle. The wolf took his time in the perusal of her body. The pink of her nipples were hard under his generous attention, her breasts swelling. She could feel her body becoming an erotic vessel, blood pumping to her most sensitive areas. To her nethers, where he elicit lewd sounds from her core. Her tail, her horns- the demonic assets throbbing with heat. It was a maddening demise into his carnal domain. And yet, brought within his grasp, his dark ways tinged her being with bitter ardor. Cruel, cruel love.

“You need not beg any longer.”

The bounds of affection mended with his sadist disposition; the Beast wrought mercy upon the delicate woman in his arms. With his tail, he twirled her to face him- pinning her atop the cool, lush grounds of the jungle. The grass was familiar, soft beneath her naked skin. Nature was suited to them both, in a way. They were two twisted souls of the earth, cementing the webs of their fates into destiny-hailed sky. Bathed in moonlight, the stars the only witness to their coupling, the pair were tucked away in their own filament of time. Even the gentle desert winds seemed to halt as the Beast paused to look at her once more. His amber eyes swept over her features, narrowing to decipher her expression. As if the way her emeralds glistened, or the way her brows stitched into frustration, were the most important things in the world. He devoured every inkling of detail much like an artist would, imagining how he might paint her with sin. The princess bloomed with color, unable to get used to the attention. Drops of anxious whimsy tickled her skin. She wished she could hide, and at the same time she felt the urge to reach out to him.

Her demonic instincts flared with each passing moment, threatening to tear the fabric of her sanity. Even the High Elvish facets of her being rebelled beneath her skin. She needed release. There was a toll to be taken on her flesh, as it fought to contain the extent of her soul. The magical aura of High Valyrian princess, begged to sprout in streams of purity. Whilst, her ancient darkness demanded to be unleashed- in both the manifestation of onyx appendages, and in the deepest shadow. Yet these two vitally opposing parts agreed in their devotion towards the Beast. Mate, is how she recognized him- her body eager to solidify that bond. A shiver tapped across the nerves of her spine as the Beast pulled her legs apart. He lifted them, as to push her thighs against her stomach. Anticipation churned in her belly, sloshing against the walls with trepidation. Her breath caught, Morgana biting down on her lip as he pushed his cock against her mound. Still, he teased her. Sliding his erection against the wetness between her legs, she desperately tried to quell her reactions as her clit was met with the head of his cock. He grinded against her, her hips jolting in bliss each time he hit the small little button. She was panting, waiting, wondering. Would he begin to feel her pleasure? Would he receive the bond as strongly as her? Would he know her agony, her ecstasy, her manic love? Her heart drummed in heavy, looming beats. The Beast wrapped an arm around her thigh, the other reaching for her. His palm enveloped her cheek, his thumb propped ardently against her red-lipped mouth. The princess held him with an expression of wild fervor, pressing a gentle kiss to the pad of his thumb in encouragement.

Take me.

Feral noises of discontent rippled from his mouth, distracting her from the pain that now encased her lower half. The princess wrapped her lips around his thumb, welcoming the presence into her mouth with a tender suck. She recalled the shape of him on her tongue, knowing that the large insertion was ripping into her virtue with increasing difficulty. Sparks ignited at the base of her abdomen, flying and stinging as he continued to spread her. Her mind was going blank, shadow and luminant mist unfurling at the edges of her aura. Delightful pain consumed her, burning, agonizing, and molding into absolute euphoria. Tension knotted into her muscles. She was barely capable of staving off an orgasm, indulged by the fullness of his cock. The head of his member kissed her cervix with each thrust, scraping against her walls. Slowly, she was being engraved with the debauchery of equal doses of pleasure- and pain. She swore she could feel her arm become sore, singed by intricate patterns- as if she were feeling the details of her mate’s brand. With a short glimpse, she confirmed it was not her pale, unmarked skin that possessed these patterns- but his. Additional shocks of pleasure swept through the center of her being, demanding that she relinquish her will to the throws of rapture.

The obsidian extremity of her tail sought for his intimacy, slithering out from beneath her. He appeared to have wished for the same, the fluffy appendage presenting itself openly. Her tail coiled around his fur, shaking, squeezing with what little strength she could gather as the spade flicked rapidly in a wayward rhythm. She was suffering in the most beautiful of ways, gradually allowing the pools of her resolve to melt away. A gentle luminance, kindred to moonlight, danced across her skin to the same tune as her pleasure- whorls of shadow peppered in tangible darkness around her aura. She was glowing, embedded in the feeling of him.

Her brain hadn’t even registered the physical, magical phenomenon that had become of her body. Her thoughts were mangled, shredded into the Beast’s Eden.

“Mate.” She said breathlessly, calling for him. The ancient nature within her had devoured the conventional use of his name, only able to yearn for him as her complement. Her eyes flashed open, not even realizing when she’d closed them, to gorge on the sight of his naked body; melding with her own. “Xeno.” The demoness moaned, laying a hand against the pleasantly carved ridges of his lower abdomen. She became entranced with the sight of his cock sinking into her pussy, pulling out with a slick coat of her own fluids. Her nails dug into his skin. “I’m going to cum if you don’t stop.” She warned him, a plea in her voice for some form of rest. Morgana knew she wouldn’t be able keep up. She was on the verge of climax, teetering on a cliff that she didn’t want to dive off so early on. “It hurts so… good.” The girl whimpered, succumbing to her desire for pain; her desire to be spread. Her hips were moving to meet him, pushing against his thrusts despite her words. It was lovely and terrible all at once. Her delicate eyebrows knit together, a look of blushing eroticism upon her fair face. Her need to mate and her desire had managed to form a dangerous concoction, wrenching her deepest desires to the surface. Shame could not prevent her sweet mouth from spouting such atrocities. “I want all your cum inside me.” Her voice trembled, begging. “I want it deep. Pour your seed in me, please.”

 

[Carpe Diem]

She was his, now and forever. That truth was slow to hit him as they became one with each other, their bodies connecting, her soaked nethers warm against his crotch, staining the man's cinnamon skin with her fluids. The night was cool, chilly even, but he could only feel her warmth, feel how his sweat intermingled with hers. He could hear the sounds of critters all around them, circling around them, as if to witness the unholy consummation of the pair. For this moment was one that would be etched into Xeno's mind forever as the moment he truly became Morgana's. Never in his life would he have imagined he would become a single woman's property, but just as he had hunted her, she enraptured him, made him a slave to her affection, her sensuality, her fragility. He loved her and yet he did not dare to speak those words aloud, instead giving himself to the way her hips wiggled, the way she trembled as he gave inch, took inch inside her. The way her walls shivered around his huge insertion, pushing him out and pulling him back in, the same way the woman made him insane with her sudden mood swings. It threatened to drive him crazy, the way she looked up at him, expectant, adoring, affectionately. No woman had ever looked at him that way- their eyes were often stained with impure lust for him, mixed together with rancour, hatred, or fear. Morgana looked at the man in front of her. At Xeno, and not the Beast King.

He sighed, working himself into a steady rhythm, his hips rocking gently into Morgana's, his cock sinking into her as he pulled nearly his entire length, save for the tip, out of her before stabbing the young princess with it in one slow motion. He was gentle, both because her tightness was unlike any he'd felt before, and because he was afraid of hurting the girl at first, knowing she had no prior experience to the act. She was a virgin through and through, apparent by her slight discomfort... her slight discomfort? The thought was strange to him. It felt natural for him to realize it was her that felt discomfort at having him inside her, but how could he be so keenly aware of it. Just the same way as he could slowly start to feel a pleasure bubbling over the pain. Or perhaps the way he could feel a heartbeat that was not his, beating in rhythm with his own. All of these things seemed to hit him all at once, just like how he suddenly noticed that Morgana was... glowing. It was a subtle glow, like a dull light of a firefly, dancing around the lakes of Reinitia. He couldn't help but stare at the woman, his eyes fixed on her indescribable expression as she suckled on his thumb. Xeno chuckled, figuring the entire scene to be madness to anyone looking in. To him, it felt natural that his mate, his future wife, would be such a unique lover.

As if to add to this madness, her tail sought out for his, wrapping in it, gentle yet desperate. It happily welcomed the contact, straight and erect as she looked for something to hold onto. It furled into her leathery appendage, embracing it warmly as the pleasure became too much for him to keep it straight. He didn't miss the way her tip seemed to flicker around aimlessly, deliriously. It encouraged him to do more, to help himself to more of her, pushing deep inside her with each dip of his waist into hers. He dug his thumb into her mouth, stroking the ridge of her tongue with his claw as he gripped her cheek in his palm, a misty, low growl leaving him, a single bead of sweat crashing into her chest.

He was teetering between the gentle man who had fallen for the pure princess underneath him, and the beast who sought out to hunt, to conquer, to mark his territory, his hands tainted in sin. Truthfully, he wasn't sure which Morgana would love more.

Before he could wonder such a trivial thing, Morgana's voice called out to him, nearly falling in deaf ears. It was a soft gasp at first, an unusual way of addressign him, though he recognized it to be only him. They were mates, bound to each other till death do them part. Her bright... were they green? Were they blue? He could hardly tell, but her eyes glanced up at him, calling to him in his name this time. His ears pulled back in slight confusion as the orbs unglued themselves from his face, his own gaze following hers. She stared at their connection, the erotic clap of their flesh clashing together echoing through the fields. Then she muttered some kind of warning, though it hardly sounded like one to him, as her nails dug into his skin, the soft prick of pain a welcome addition to all the sensations he was feeling. Any common man would lose themselves to this feeling, but Xeno's strong will kept him conscious still, enough to hear her words and make sense of them. If she had wanted him to slow down, she might have been wiser not to let him know that he was doing well, because he was only so much more encouraged to etch himself into her being, his cock carving its shape into her with purpose. Xeno knew she was a masochist, but he was still shocked by the way she moaned out her enjoyment of the pain. Her small figure guaranteed that she would be feeling pain as he tore her apart, but she seemed to relish in it. She was an erotic creature, despite how proper and well-mannered she was in public.

It was only her next words that really gave him pause. “I want all your cum inside me.” She openly declared, a sentence he never would have thought he'd hear her say. By all means, he had imagined the woman would demand that he finished outside because there could only be one result in finishing inside. Of course he'd prepared for that, having a spell that would simply make it impossible to impregnate a woman until it was lifted from him, but Morgana didn't know that. She wanted his cum inside her. No, she didn't want it. She needed it. She begged for it. Xeno's mind quickly connected the dots; she wanted to be impregnated by him. Whatever reason he'd been holding onto was lost the instant his mind came to that conclusion. With a growl, or more like a wolf's howl, Xeno leaned into her body, his chest pressed to her, his legs angled high over her. His cock nearly slid out of her, only to pound right back in with one swift stroke, and then again, and again, and again, each time faster, deeper, rougher. He could no longer keep his head straight, his only thought being to fulfill the woman's desire to be filled with his seed. Their flesh smashed together unceremoniously, her fluids splashing everywhere from his rough treatment of her pussy.

After several minutes of the onslaught, Xeno's cock finally began to throb, helped to a quicker orgasm only because of the shared sensations between the two. He slammed in and out, rocked his hips in circular motions to poke against the ridges of her walls and, in his last motion before he fell off the cliff of bliss, penetrated Morgana's cervix, the tip of his cock directly shooting his cum straight into her womb. It was abundant, practically molten, as it overflowed from her womb and all the way out of her entrance. Xeno stayed there, motionless and planted deep inside her, as he shot several ropes of his essence into her.

And then, he pulled back and out of her, letting it all leak out freely as he grabbed Morgana by the waist and lifting her up, forcing the girl into her fours as he himself knelt up and positioned himself at her entrance, rubbing his tip against the lubricated hole shortly before impaling her once more, this time without warning.

 

[Etheria]

A once distant feral nature called to her in that moment. It wove its ravenous talons into the fibers of her mind, invoking treaties set forth millennia before her. Darkness stroked its cogent touch along the thoughts of her psyche, formed by earth-bidden creatures. It clipped the weights of her inhibitions, setting them free from the bottomless pools of captivity beneath consciousness. They floated to the surface almost effortlessly, breeding the inexplicable urges she now felt with every inch of her body. Pleasure, sustenance, and the need to be swept up into a euphoric neverland. It was only natural, as a demon, for her to crave the sustenance of magical energy. Formed by immortal beings, rendered from their souls- the energy could be transferred through the most vital fluids in their body. Blood. Tears. And the sopping liquids produced by sexual acts. His semen, said to be the most satisfying of any sustenance. And yet, this was not the only part of her that craved it. The part of her that was a High Elf, princess of Rafiya, under the thrall of a mating bond. As his mate, she wanted to rut with him. She wanted to be marked, hunted, impregnated by him. A dangerous, and exquisite need. Although the chances of her truly being fertile were slim. It was very difficult for Elvish royalty to conceive without undergoing a ritual unbinding. Usually such rituals were done upon a wedding or coronation, promoting the royal’s need for heirs. Despite the very unlikely chances, it was… thrilling. She wanted this.

The Amber in his eyes hardened, like freshly-fired gold. An audible sound, something of the beastly variety, ripped from between his teeth. Not just a second before, he had been the passionate man she’d fallen in love with. Now… he was the embodiment of her Beast. Night incarnate, wild and carnal as he became the Wolf he truly was. It was as if their purest forms had come out to greet each other, meeting in a symphony of their shared holy sin. He pressed closer to her, the rebound of her breasts comforted by the presence of his warm, hard chest against her. His closeness forced her legs higher above her head, her toes pointed and curled with pleasure. She had no need to hold her legs there, the weight of his body more than sufficient- paired with the flexibility of her slender limbs. Her hands found new sanctuary, her nails digging into his back as he slammed his thing back into her. Gods, it was massive, stretching her pussy lips until they were pink under the strain. Her clit was swollen, her tail pulsing with excess blood flow. With each thrust, his skin smacked against hers, messing her juices across her ass and thighs. It made the base of his cock sticky, as she could feel strings of their mixed fluids connecting them as he pulled his hips back.

The way he moved his hips were maddening. It was horribly sexy, the way they rolled with such fluidity. Her gut would stir with obscene lust, inciting pangs of pleasure at his undeniable suave. All the same, it made her insane to see him become an animal for her. The way he bit and growled, fucking her like she was his last breath of air. “Xeno!” She gasped, feeling the tension in her body contract. Her eyes fell shut, her dark, delicate brows drawn into ecstasy, and her lips parted in a vehement cry. Pleasure overwhelmed her, her voice fractured into sugared moans. She felt ashamed of the noises coming from her own mouth, explicit and lewd as they were. It didn’t end. Instead, it went on, as he continued to fuck her. Deeply. Purposefully. “Please,” she begged him, thinking she might be ruined if he kept at it much further. “Cum inside me. I can’t take it. Anymore of this and I’ll-!” A whimper broke her will to speak, her pussy clamping down onto his cock as it began to throb. Unbelievable. It felt like it was bigger than before. She groaned, feeling her walls struggle to accommodate him. “Anh!”

He was breaking her, driving her into a constant state of orgasmic hell. Her eyes rolled, her entire body shuddering as he pumped his seed into her womb. It was seething, thick as it poured into her. The princess cried out, climaxing as she was filled with his essence. The onyx extremity coiled around his tail squeezed like a viper, making her satisfaction known. She’d never felt so sated, the hungry emptiness in her chest filled with contentment. So warm, she thought happily, a smile spreading onto her plump red lips. Her teeth clamped down on her lower lip, an elated sigh leaving her as her body slackened against the cool grass. Xeno withdrew from her, the abundance of his cum leaking from her core. “Mmm~…” She hummed, a delighted, lustful sound. For a moment, she basked in the heaven he’d exposed to her, stretching like a purring kitten. Until- he shattered her afterglow. His rough hands, adorned by attractive scars, both battle-worn and weathered by artistry, gripped at her tiny waist. At first, she was happy to be reunited with his touch. She laughed and smiled, swarming with small waves of lingering lust. And then he flipped her, forcing her onto her hands and knees. Her heart missed a beat, her precious gemstone eyes wrought into genuine confusion.

“Ngh- un! Hey! W-What are you-” She demanded, her vexed features rearranging into a crude mixture of shock and unwanted pleasure. “Ah!” She was out of breath, impaled with his raging cock. “No, this is insane.” She shook her head helplessly, her arms shaking. How could he be this hard? She was in disbelief. “Stop! If you do this I’ll…” Morgana whimpered. “I’ll become even more lewd.” Shame made her voice quiver, tears bridging onto her lashes.

 

[Carpe Diem]

Xeno was not a man of passion, despite his infamy as a manwhore by many. His approach to sex was traditionally cold, with little interest in the intimacy that was thought vital to the act. Usually, that is, and clearly not the case as he mated with Morgana, his true beloved and the woman who he had created a mating bond with. Though he could hardly formulate a coherent thought in his mind at the moment, he was conscious of the intimate connection between the two. He could feel her passion, her joy, her adoration. He could feel how the chains around her heart slowly untangled, letting herself fall deeper into the debauchery of his body on hers, letting him in, opening herself up to feel more. It didn't help the man's composure that she was so ridiculously sensitive, sending shockwaves of pleasure up and down his spine with each thrust. He could barely keep it together with his own pleasure, and being assaulted by her own end was definitely not making it easy to keep a straight face. If he could see through her eyes, he'd probably see the twisted visage of a feral wolf, all too eager to consume his prey. Xeno thought it to be something wicked, unattractive, but Morgana's blushing face clearly refuted his thoughts. Whatever his face looked like at this very moment, the princess' attraction did not falter and in fact he could only feel her arousal rising each time their bodies connected.

The woman looked peaceful, satisfied beyond words, as he filled her with his seed, filled her to the brim until she couldn't keep it in anymore. Xeno thought to leave her to enjoy the afterglow for a moment, but any rationality had been thrown out the window at her words. Morgana had only herself to blame as he lifted her up and forced her upon her hands and knees, her gaze meeting with his own predatory glare as he fixed her posture to his liking. His current state of mind wasn't too dissimilar to that of a drunken stupor; his body seemingly moved on its own, though with the practiced fluidity proper only of his own experience and dominion, and his thoughts came only afterwards, making sense of his actions slowly, sluggishly. He heard her protests too late to stop himself, her confusion only an afterthought to his mind. Like a starving wolf catching the scent of blood, instinct took over and logic found no place in his mind, though he doubted he would've stopped regardless of catching her voice a moment earlier. The colder, more logical Xeno would have found himself teasing the woman, prompting her to beg for his cock. The Beast King found such preamble to be needless- Morgana would find enjoyment in it regardless of what he did; she was a masochist, and a twisted one at that. She had foolishly confided in him her fantasy of being violated by him and no other man.

As he spread her pink lips open for a second time, with much less resistance this time, Morgana expressed her disbelief at the man's ability to have a go at her so quickly. She had probably not come down from her own orgasm yet and still she was being assaulted by his cock. He could sense her bewilderment, though he had warned the princess that he would not hold back from the very beginning. He couldn't hold back. He desired her far too much to do anything but ravage her, to have every inch of her marked in his smell, branded by his passion, singed by the flames of his lust. A wide, calloused, scarred hand reached out to her, grabbing her hair into a bunch and pulling on it, yanking her to him. "Then become lewder. I want to see my little proper princess fall from her grace. I won't stop till you are worshipping me as your god. I want to turn you into a slutty elf for my cock." He proclaimed as he reached his other hand out to grip on one of her wrists, pulling on it, forcing her down to his lap. He started with brusque, almost random thrusts, slowly easing his cock out of the elf, only to yank her back in. It was a slow start, but not a gentle one, only allowing himself to recover some of his breath from his earlier exertion. Morgana's words hardly seemed like they were asking him to stop as much as she was encouraging him to go harder, to really make her experience the true cruelty of the man she had chosen as her Mate.

After a few minutes of the same, slow pace, Xeno's hips started slapping against her ass, the firm, soft flesh jiggling with each impact. He picked up his rhythm almost suddenly, retaking the roughness from earlier. He let out gruff groans turned vapor in the chill desert air, his sweat trickling down onto the grass around them, each thrust of his followed by the release of air, rough against his throat. Xeno had slowly pulled Morgana up each time their flesh met, her back eventually meeting his chest, the hand on her wrist making its way to catch her tongue with his index and middle finger, stroking it almost the same way his cock stroked her walls. "Cum, my slutty elf. Cum on this Beast's cock. Show your king the way you become lewder and lewder..." He commanded just as he felt his own cock begin to throb once again, pulsating within her. As if to complement his order, the Beast King released his load deep inside her once again, staining her walls a searing white. Her womb was far too small to contain it all, of course, and so it dribbled down on the floor beneath their connection. He let go of her, gently letting her down on the floor.

As it turned out, he was still erect even after the second time, and so he pulled Morgana up once again, this time sitting himself on the grass and lifting her up in the air with ease, positioning the elven princess' petals just above his cock. Slowly, he eased her down onto it, stopping only when she sat at his base, her back pressed to him, her heat burning him against the contrast of the fresh jungle surrounding them. "Tell me, Morgana; does it hurt still? Does it feel good when I violate your womb?"

 

[Etheria]

Plush grass scrunched up under the grip of her palms, digging her nails into the earth. Her limbs trembled to the erratic thunder of her heartbeat, fighting for a semblance of strength. Frustration wove into her veins, pulsing with grit, simmering with the desire to hold onto a sliver of sanity. Dirt buried underneath her fingernails, sweat trickling down her lean, bare arms. Slick, sticky, and dirty. They both were. This is what it meant to be an animal. Assaulted by each damaging impact of his cock, her glossy, night-stained eyes slowly reached the picture of his face. His expression was chaos. Xeno’s perfectly molded lips were curled over his teeth, clenched and caging a series of predatory resonance. An exhale ripping through his nostrils, he growled out from between his teeth. It was like he was making his claim known, exerting his dominance over her body. Color exploded across her face in an instant approval, though she wished she could challenge him. She was vexed by her body’s responses, sweet moans pouring from her mouth as if she had no control. She hated the mess she was becoming. Any image of a dignified, lovely, resplendent woman- was being destroyed. Xeno would never be able to look at her as the princess she was, the queen she strived to be. Morgana in that moment was nothing less than filthy, and disgustingly erotic. She was the animal she warned him that she would become. Divinity at its worst.

Silken, inky tresses gathered into his rough hand- yanking her away from the stability of the ground. He kept her captive against his chest, carving into her pussy at an entirely new angle. She emit something of a sob, pleasure tearing through her core and upwards into her stomach. The sensation was completely different, stimulating the opposite walls of her cunt. The head of his dick swept up against her nerves with more thorough strokes, etching his paint into her canvas. “Then become lewder. I want to see my little proper princess fall from her grace. I won't stop till you are worshipping me as your god.” The low, beautiful tenor of his voice snarled against her ear- earning a shudder. He was far crueler a Beast than the King that once shared her hatred. Had he merely fucked her long ago, it would have been kinder than this onslaught. Love turned him into a monster; designed to destroy her frigid persona and remake her in fire. Heat singed her wrist as he captured her arm, ramming her down so that her backside connected with his lap. She cried out, tears streaming as she clenched around him. These were his flames, dragging her into his kingdom of Hell. She was cumming again, finding a new level of entropy. How shameful, she was. The princess was beginning to realize the Beast wanted her this way. His love made her shameful, and so he adored her shame.

“Xeno!” She called his name as if she was desperately calling out for help. Closer. More. I need…him…Her thoughts bleeding into their bond, they clawed for the other end to reach her mate. “Xeno.” She groaned. Morgana was adorned with them same expression he once wore, her teeth grit together, drooling from the corner of her lips. His hips were unforgiving, her ass cheeks pinkened one shade darker with each thrust. The sting prickled across her skin. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She found herself pushing back against him, hoping to intensify the smack of their skin and suck his member further inside her. “Mmm!” She squealed in irritation, a growl bit between her teeth as she tried to match him. Their dynamic was different than usual. Fucking like animals, having sex as mates was different. Every part of Morgana craved his domination, her own submission to him. Except, the mating bond. As the bond itself fought to wire them into eternal coupling, it demanded war. A battle for dominance between equals, wrenching out the parts of her that craved power. It played on her survival instincts like a drug. She didn’t hate the high it gave her. It was different from her normal wishes, yes, but it was an opportunity for a different kind of desire. As he released her arm, she reached behind her, wrapping her hand around his neck and grabbing a fistful of hair at his nape. He returned her passions, shoving a pair of fingers past her lips and working them on her tongue.

The taste of him consumed her palette, saliva encasing his digits. They hushed the sound of her whimper, her mouth overrun with joy to have him inside her. Delight shot all the way through to the tip of her tail, her fangs elongating by instinct. His timing was flawless, massaging her in sync with the motions of his thrusts. “Cum, my slutty elf. Cum on this Beast's cock. Show your king the way you become lewder and lewder...” He commanded, triggering a thirst within her. Her fangs pricked his fingers with tiny cuts, the princess greedily sucking on him. Small traces of blood graced her taste buds, her tongue moving with his digits. As if she was kissing him, imploring that he sink himself further into her. She imagined what it would feel like to be choked by his fingers in her throat, or his hand around her neck. Give me pain, she whispered into the bond. His erection swelled, preparing her for his load. His warmth poured into her, spilling from her pussy lips. It was only when the stream hit her cervix, that she felt herself convulse. Again, she was cumming. It was a blessing that he was holding her, keeping their bodies connected as she orgasmed. She might’ve cried if he separated from her. Nothing was more imminent than her hunger for him to be inside her as she came, clamping down onto the shape of him like a vice.

As the aftermath of her climaxed faded, he released her gently to the forest floor. What was once enough for her, no longer brought her satisfaction. His potent seed was absurdly satisfying, to the point of delirium. Unlike demonic heat, the hunger threatened to make her insane. She needed it in her womb, her mouth, and to have her breasts coated in it. It was terrible. She was becoming addicted to his cock. The dominant parts of her reproached this sentiment, angered to be left alone in her desire. Xeno, too, seemed unsatisfied. He wound her back into their little underworld, guiding her- more like lifting her- towards his lap, and slowly spreading her onto his lubricated shaft. It was so wet, she thought she might just cum from the feeling of being saturated with their bodily fluids. She was in love with the sounds their vulgar bodies made, fighting off another climax. She didn’t want to cum so easily. The animal in her wanted to do more than just endure his cruelty, but challenge it with her own allure. It was unfair; the way a few words could make her mad with lust. Tell me, Morgana; does it hurt still? Does it feel good when I violate your womb? He taunted her, devilish in his confidence. No, that wouldn’t do. Morgana wanted him to suffer as she had, submerged in her feral instincts and forced to embody every debauched thought. She took advantage of her position, rolling her hips to meet his thrusts.

I want everything about you. Your body, your love, your hatred, everything you feel... to be mine.

Her fangs glinting, her tail slithering around the base of his cock, she had finally surrendered her hatred to him. It was temperamental and scorching, one and the same with her love for him. Hating the Beast for what he did to her, loving the Beast for the woman he made her. She hated him for making her feel so damn good. She loved him for the very same. I can’t promise you won’t get burned, she’d warned him. Because her love was hellfire. He was her Devil, her God.

Her tail squelched as it slipped and twisted around his shaft, rubbing between her pussy and the base of him. “I want it to hurt. Give it to me like you mean it, Beastie.” She hissed with a salacious curl of her lips. Her eyes were not green, as expected of a demoness, but an undeniable midnight blue. It was an expression of her that was deeper than her two halves, closest to her true evil and angelic nature. “Hate me… love me… I want you to be mine.” She grinned wickedly, moaning with a proud, happy expression. “Become addicted to my pussy, Beast. Fuck your seed into my womb.” Morgana’s gaze flit to where their bodies slammed against one another. She was openly enjoying the sight, gasping and moaning in gratification. “Make me submit, Xeno. You want it, don’t you? My love, my hatred, my submission.” She licked her lips. “Fuck me like you mean it. I can take it.” She insisted. She wanted to take all his cruelty, until it broke her.

 

[Carpe Diem]

The full moon showered them, the chilly desert wind brushing against him, sending shivers through his spine as his glistening skin was wet with sweat. But that wasn't all that was generating shivers in his body. No, more than the cold, she was the reason why he panted, why his every breath was steamy as it left the warm walls of his mouth. He had once loathed the animal side of him, admiring the humans and the elves for their more sophisticated, delicate dispositions; the way they talked, the way they carried themselves, even sometimes the way they ate. But now, Xeno embraced that wild side of himself, ever so insatiable, feral, wicked. He could still form thoughts, but thinking was secondary to his actions. Morgana laid witness to this, as she cried out for him to stop, and not long after, for him to fuck her even harder, even deeper than before. Even though the thought of her fickleness seemed to annoy him, his body continued to torture her with every pang of pain, every stab of pleasure that he could grant her. His little elven princess wouldn't see the light of day as the virgin she had been when she awoke in the morning.

No, Morgana would awaken under the scorching sun as his Queen, a woman aware of the wonders she was capable of feeling.

Xeno could've sworn he heard her begging for more sometime during their second coupling, even though he was sure she hadn't said a word, uncapable of saying anything besides calling for him. Even now, he could feel the faint pulse in his arm, an aching that was not his, but yet the same he felt for the woman himself. It was like a second heartbeat, reaching for his heart, enveloping it in her dark, demonic allure. As she lied on the grass, he peered down at her, taking a moment to take in the sight of her messy beauty, how she looked so joyful to just have his seed inside her. Xeno knew it was wrong to be so pleased with his work, knowing that his efforts were mostly with the intention of (uselessly) seeding the woman with his child. Copulation mixed dangerously with procreation, the thought more perilous than it seemed on the surface. He was a king of a nation that waged war on the daily, a man who would sooner be out in the battlefield than sitting at his throne. He was in no position to father a child, yet he found himself allured into the thought by her words alone. Alas, any efforts to do something of the sort were ultimately in vain, but Morgana didn't know that. And the worst part was that he wanted to keep it that way. He wanted to keep her under that illusion.

Her waist was tiny in his palms, her body featherweight as he glided the woman up and down his length, watching avidly as his wicked thing disappeared into her pussy, making filthy, sloshing sounds as he spread her wide, forcing her to take his huge cock into her. Between her own honey and his cum, she was so wet and messy that there was little to no resistance, despite being a virgin not an hour ago. It allowed him to set a swift pace for them, accomodating for the elf's own movements, the way she rolled her hips erotic and pleasant. He groaned in approval of the added friction, letting him hit every bump and ridge inside her. He grinded her hips on his, feeling her tremble in his claws, the faintest hint of an orgasm as her walls shook around him, clamping down on him so tightly he was afraid he'd suffer an orgasm of his own. Xeno had to work his hardest to not fill her up with his seed as her waist smacked wetly on his lap.

He was so lost in the feeling that he did not expect... that. His ears perked up, his back jerking straight and his tail shooting out as he felt... something stroke along the base of his cock, where the two of them connected. He peered down to check what it was, thinking maybe a pesky snake or some other critter that did not respect his territory and finding... Xeno's rhythm was shaken for a moment, erratic as his ears pulled back in confusion. He had half a mind to ask Morgana what she was doing, and was opening his mouth to do so...

"Ngh!" The male was not quite as vocal as the elf, but the added stimulation of her leathery, soft tail wrapped neatly around his cock was more than enough to squeeze out a grunt from him, his furry appendages flickering uncertainly as she gave him a... tailjob? He'd never had anything like it before, in all of his years of conquest. He would've expressed such a thing if she hadn't spoken up first. Beastie. He did not hear what other words she said, the taunt resonating in his mind, ringing like an unpleasant screeching of nails on chalk. Xeno didn't enjoy the nickname. No, he hated it, a reminder of her defiance towards him. Not so much her hostility or malice, as much as that elvish mischief of hers, ever so teasing towards him. He knew she was fishing for a reaction, but he couldn't help to grant her one. "I don't want your submission, Morgana... I demand it." A growl grew in his throat, rumbling as he bore his fangs at her neck, his hand reaching up to wrap around her throat. He lifted the princess up, till only the very tip was inside her... and then suddenly, without warning, drove her down to the very base, impaling her with his manhood in one fell swoop.

He repeated this a couple of times, the slaps becoming quicker, more frequent with each thrust, each slam, each rocking of their hips. Annoyance mixed with desire into a fervent, dizzying mess, drawing heavy breaths from the wolf as he only became rougher with each second. Still holding her neck, he pushed her down onto her belly, so that she was lying prone on the grass. One hand wrapped around her throat, while the other went to grasp at her inky locks of hair, yanking the woman onto him as he drove deeper inside her, her plump ass cheeks working as cushions, jiggling wildly each time his waist crashed into hers. After several minutes of it, his breathing became uneven, just as his rhythm did, sacrificing deeper thrusts for quicker motions.

"Take it, you succubus. Take your King's seed into your womb, just the way you love it...!" He howled out, pushing the tip of his cock past her cervix and depositing his searing seed directly into her womb. "I'll fuck as much of it into you as you want, you slutty kitty. But I'll have you purr for it if you want it. So come, purr for your king. Purr for your cruel, wicked wolf..."

 

[Etheria]

Time moved like ice. Slow, painful as it wove its snow-flecked talons around the bend of her mind. She was being pulled into a niche in the universe that she’d yet to discover. Here, every blade of grass swept against her skin. The moss felt fuzzy, and the dirt harsh. The ground cradled her breasts with rough grains of dirt, and the gentle scratch of fallen leaves. Every stab of pleasure tore through her very core, eliciting shivers of welcome to the impact of his hips. His hips were sturdy. Powerful, as they moved again and again and again. He felt so hard against the soft flesh of her backside, quivering and stained deep pink. Equally so, were his hands. One, wrapped lovingly around her throat, his claws etching their demands into her being. And the complete opposite, was his tail. It felt luxurious, heavenly as it brushed against her. At the center of it all, the Beast’s cock was buried deep inside of her; making his presence known. She panted and moaned, her spine curling. Her body was giving out under his force, only her tail able to reciprocate her need to retaliate. He’d locked her hips into submission, unable to work her feminine wiles. So her tail continued- caressing him in a warm, wet vice each time he dared draw his hips back.

“Yes. Give it to me.” She groaned, encouraging him to solidify his words into action. She squealed and growled, finding the strength in her knees to push back against his thrusts. “Hah…Mmm…” Her voice strained against the constraints of his grip. Until- she couldn’t breathe. For a moment, all air ceased to fill her lungs. His wild, tainted hands gathered into her silky hair; and choking her delicate throat. The smooth head of his cock pushed past her cervix, filling her entirely with a thick coat of his seed. Her lips parted, a short scream leaving her with what breath she could spare. And then her body shook, trembling. Tremors of pleasure so acute- rode through her thoroughly. Her eyes watered, tears pouring over her cheeks. They were warm, like the creamy fluid that spilled into her womb. She was wading in an ocean of euphoria, weak-limbed as she collapsed to the earth. Her tail fell away from him, swaying ever so gently- a twitch altering its direction. Morgana felt a faint rumbling in her chest. It was dainty, a womanly sound, no doubt. She was purring.

She hadn’t known it was in her anatomy to do such a thing. It was not like Xeno’s hard staccato, thumping loudly against the confines of his chest. It was far more… mellow. Like a quaint stream.

Morgana lied there for several moments, enveloped in the high of her orgasm as it rode its last waves through her. Her thoughts wandered loosely in her distant absence, wondering just how she’d lived Twenty Two cycles of the Frost without knowing she was capable of such an odd behavior. She was beginning to wonder if Xeno’s words had truly become law to her body. Should he demand she purr- she would.

Her humble, sated emeralds searched for his face- her lips pulling into a smile as she met his gaze. Her purring audibly intensified, her tail coiling around his and giving it a solid tug. Come here, she was saying, eager to be reunited flesh-to-flesh. There was nothing in the world quite like being with him. In nature, the warmth of his skin against her own, she felt like the creatures they were meant to be. As she drew him closer, she brushed her nose against his. Her body language was more physical than it had ever been. As if she’d truly embodied the animal that she was with him. A breath left her, grazing against his lips, whispering ‘mate’. She did not vocalize the word, knowing that her actions would speak plenty. For the first time, she felt she understood the man before her. He was a wolf that spoke to her with his actions. He always had. In the past, she’d noticed the tendency. But never had she comprehended it to the extent she did now. Now, she recalled their first meeting in the palace. The way he’d stalked around her in his throne room, his penetrating gaze assessing her. Even back then, he’d seen her as a potential mate. It was what male wolves- Alphas- often did during mating season. His steps had been so slow. Calculative. Testing, wanting, hunting. Playfully, Morgana latched her teeth onto his lower lip. She pulled gently, licking over the area upon release. She moved with instinct, thought trickling in the background. It wasn’t needed; in their little space. Under an endless sky- no castles or crowns. Not even clothes. It was possibly the best feeling in the world. Perhaps her newfound understanding had been nurtured by their newly erected bond.

Still, there were the parts of her that were an Elf. Parts of her that craved cleanliness and order. She could feel the dirt under her nails, and their fluids smeared across her skin. Before she could even think, her tongue darted out to lick his neck. Up his throat, along his jaw in a languid trail across his cheek. She adored the taste of his sweat on her tongue, her actions and her mind in line with the prerogative. ‘Clean’, it seemed she was saying to him, poorly explained to any human as she proceeded with her primal actions.

 

[Carpe Diem]

Unlike human and elven men, it was known that animalkind males had very brief refractory periods- they were meant to breed, to fuck relentlessly. They were not unlike their beastly counterparts in the sense that they had been created with the purpose of conquering countless females, planting their seeds across the land. Or at least, most men thought to be capable of that, only to be dwarved in size when coming into contact with a real Alpha like Xeno. A man thoroughly uninterested in leaving an heir or heiress to his throne, Xeno had used his superior assets, his strength, intelligence and charisma, only to fulfill his own desires, taking women as he wished, whether they liked it or not. Gaining infamy as a womanizer had done little more than hurt his reputation as ruler, but one did not need reputation when they had an indisputable claim to the throne by birthright. Yet, those days in which he bedded a new woman each day were gone now.

As he gifted Morgana with his potent, superior seed, a wicked shiver ran up his spine. One that told him their unholy connection as lovers, as husband and wife, as soulmates had been solidified. He felt the shocks and waves of her orgasm colliding with his own, sending even more pleasurable shivers up and down his back, as his cock planted what were empty seeds into the woman's womb. Even he felt warm as it overflowed from her walls, seeping down the crevices of her pussy, stretched thin by his monstruous... thing. She had not called it so vocally, yet he could tell... The faintest, most abstract of thoughts were sent to him, allowing him to tell what she was thinking with relative ease. Xeno was amused that she would refer to his manhood in such a way. Like it was some kind of monster to be afraid of. He'd give her a hard time about it in the future for sure.

For now, though, he was far more interested in wrapping his arms around his beloved elf princess' waist, helping her down gently onto the grass as she collapsed, following after her as he gently pulled out from her, letting the flood of cum that she hadn't greedily consumed flow out from her as he did. It was only now that he had to take a short break from making love to the woman of his dreams that he noticed how cold and wet he really was, soaked in a layer of his own sweat.

She tugged at him and Xeno answered to her wish, slowly leaning down to meet her gaze, vibrant under the night sky, reflecting the dull yet bright moonlight in her pools. They were not verdant like the demonic gaze she had when in her bloodlust, nor the dull blue of the proper, frigid princess he'd come to adore, but a healthy, beautiful mix between the two. In this moment, she was not the Crown Princess of Rafiya nor a demoness capable of cold-blooded murder and mutilation. In this moment, she was Morgana, the beautiful, naive girl who had made him fall for her in all of her prettiness and foolishness. She was his lovely kitty, purring delightfully for him in a quiet symphony of lust, desire, love. He nuzzled against her nose, pressing a short, gentle peck to her licks before wrapping his arms around her back, pulling her closer so that her breasts overflowed when pressed to his chest. Rather than think about how sexy and luscious the woman was, Xeno's mind wandered to how wonderfully warm and soft she was, making him feel like no other person had ever made him feel; safe. He felt like things would be alright.

The smell of sex filled the air along with the natural scents of nature. The wet soil, the fresh grass rustling against the wind. The fruity scent of the feast he had prepared for Morgana and the raw meat that predators circling their love nest were undoubtedly watering their mouths over. He could stay like this forever, the smell of their fluids like a lovely perfume for the man, letting him know that it was him and only him that would ever mate with her. Yet she had other plans, already tugging from her side of the bond, demanding... Demanding to be clean, like the spoiled princess that she was. And him, the indulgent king that he was, smirked down to her, pulling away only for an instant before he picked her up in his arms, glancing to the single, spacious pond sat in the center of the oasis.

"Clean," he repeated out loud as he stepped into the cold water, slowly and cautiously letting the exhausted elf down as well. His hands rested on either side of her waist, his lips finding her neck and pressing a soft kiss at it before lapping at the plush flesh. He ran his tongue along her throat, her collarbone, cleaning off the sweat with his own tongue, just like she had suggested to him.

"I had not expected you to match me, Morgana. I am truly impressed. I would have expected you to pass out after the second time..."

 

[Etheria]

Xeno made her vibrant. Wilder than the lush Valerian jungles of Rafiya. Yet, he was also the Villain of their world. And so she found comfort, in the wickedness of his embrace. In his smile, that gleamed like a jewel- only for her. The man felt like freedom. Together, they were raw. Fearless. Invincible, even. For if they were faced with death, no matter the price- beheld by the scorching gaze of amber, rustling like flames- the way he looked at her; by the Gods, she knew that he would pay it. She knew that she, too, would pay such a price. Even in Hell, she would relish in all eternity with her King. Her love.

She could’ve sworn that she heard a whisper, an inkling calling out to her in the midst of her match. Under the screams and sighs of the crowd, and somewhere between the cracking of her own flesh and bones. She could’ve sworn she’d heard him calling to her. He stood at the foot of the gates, panting, a face of distress upon him. He had looked like the Goddess Ruin came knocking at his door. As if he were ready to tear into the Heavens and wreak horror unto the world, should his eyes not meet her own. Her feelings had been rushing and swelling, newly stitched together. The Beast clutched onto her as if she were about to slip from existence. And she could recall the innate feeling of home. She recalled this as he swept her up in his arms, into a flurry of affections before carrying her over to the pond. Normally the evenings grew cold. But the wolf exceeded body temperatures of mere mortals. His skin was hot to the touch, and felt warm against the cool night.

Clean, he repeated. Blood surfaced to her cheeks, mild shock rising upon her features. He heard her. The bond was clear, and beaming loudly, weaving together their beings. She exhaled, elated. Was this how a mating bond was? She’d understood faintly, of course, but it was another experience entirely to possess one herself.

Xeno began to wash her, as he would in his Beastly nature. He drug his tongue along her flesh, leaving chills in his wake. She felt shameful of how it stirred between her thighs, or how she wished to have him clean there- instead. It wasn’t easy to rid herself of the desires he instilled in her. It was no longer her own heat, but something else. Pure, impassioned lust for him. She pressed her thighs together as he spoke, attempting to submerge her desires.

“Come now, Beast…” She smirked at him. “Xeno,” she added adoringly, “do you honestly think I would back down from challenge?” Her lips twitched, widening over her bright smile. His name still made her lips tingle. “I won’t.” She answered preemptively.

Silence flittered for a moment, and the thought crossed her mind: could she share with him as she wished? Could she let him in, at any time?

‘Here we are, bathing as mates…as if I was apart of your tribe.’

Morgana blushed at the memory of what he’d said to her- the first time he’d seen her nude. He held her, and spoke of the traditions of his tribe.

“I will always challenge.” She continued her last thread of conversation aloud. “And I will return from every battle, to challenge you. To romance you- with my weapons or whatever charm I have stricken you with.” She laughed gently. “To love you. Always.” The princess breathed, pressing a hand to his chest- to the markings over his heart.

‘You know what’s funny? I thought this was my doing, but…’ She traced a finger over the ink. ‘Little did I know, you needed to accept the bond for the mark to be done.’ Morgana peered up at him. ‘Magic.’ She remarked, shaking her head. ‘But to think back then, I had already stolen your heart…’ The blue in her irises glistened.

“Little did I know, of this wicked heart you have. You are my darkness.” The princess held in a grin. “You practically make me glow.” She said, unaware of her earlier display. Mischief waltzed into her gaze, as she added “Should I challenge you to make me pass out? Is that even possible- blinding pleasure?” She teased.

‘I’m glad I suit you, Mr. Alpha.’ Morgana was sincere, yet playful- the smile on her lips victorious.

 

[Carpe Diem]

A selfish, whimsical, cruel, hedonistic king he was. As likely to sentence a commoner to death for stealing an apple from some merchant as he was to make him a noble and grant him land and gold on the spot, all decided on whether he'd liked that day's meal or not. Such a man was feared and revered all the same by his subjects, the target of countless conspiracies against him, more attempts at his life than he would care to remember. All of his life, ever since he was born, he had to learn to keep an eye on his back and distrust all who would approach him, for they did so only with self-serving intentions, to get on his good side and gain his favor. None of them ever did, the man's stone-faced approach to it all sparing him waking up with a knife sticking out of his back as a parting gift from the occasional woman that would attempt at seducing him. Distrust was his style of life and there were few people Xeno trusted with his life.

That all seemed to wash away as their bodies dipped into the lake, the coldness of it retrieving a soft hiss from him, his tail the first to pour itself into the shallow end of it, scouting for parasites and fish that might disturb them, yet whatever critters might've been waiting were dissuaded of bothering as his commanding aura could be felt from a mile away. Setting Morgana down for just a moment, her heat left him, his body yearning instantly for the closeness she blessed him with, the peace of mind he felt when she looked at him. It was stupid and embarrassing, but her aura was some strange mix between a mother and a lover. 'My soulmate,' the thought would cross his mind in more than one occasion, particularly when he locked eyes with her. 'My beloved,' thoughts that he would never dare speak openly to her, let alone to any other soul. Yet, he didn't feel it was necessary to say those words. Not when she was so clearly aware of his feelings.

“Come now, Beast…” Her voice, like golden strings on a silver harp, played with slender, prim fingers. He smirked back at her, letting his hands wander across her abdomen, their eyes locked, his gaze fixated on hers. Nothing else mattered when they were together. Loyalty, to a wolf, was like breathing, and she had him ensnared in her web. Worst of all; he loved to be caught in all of her wickedness. "That's impressive. I wager you'll get used to my intensity after some time, so I have to enjoy breaking you with this thing between my legs. Though to be fair, most women I've done it with would be trembling and drooling on the floor after I made them cum three times, so you're definitely special..."

Speaking like this, it made him relax, his body falling into ease as he grinned with positive joy, reaching down between her legs to clean out the remnants of his seed that still remained in her private parts. That is, whatever she hadn't devoured, the voracious demoness she was.

“I will always challenge.”

She said the words with confidence, like they were simply decreed by the Earth itself. Like it was the one truth in their existence. And he knew it to be true- she would never hand him victory, never willing concede in defeat. He knew her to be the prey he would never catch, not unless she wanted it. "Promise it," he uttered silently, taking the hand on his breast and intertwining his fingers with hers, entangling them in a soft embrace. "Promise you'll always return, no matter what. Promise you'll always love me, even if I become the most despicable man in this world, even if I become the world's very enemy.

The words were spoken solemnly, softly, so lowly that even he wondered if he'd heard them. Had he uttered them? Or just thought them? It was like the thoughts that crossed his mind, vague and soft, echoing within the walls of his mind. She spoke to him, yet her lips didn't move. He allowed a small, wistful smile cross his lips. 'It's nothing so cliche'd as you stealing my heart... but I doubt I could convince you otherwise...'

"You are my darkness.”

"Funny that... I thought for sure the heart-devouring, life-sucking succubus would definitely be the darkness in the relationship." he joked, running his hand through her black tresses, styling them in a simple ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling her just a tad bit closer to him... and inadvertenly pressing his burning, thick coal between her exposed bottom, nestled neatly between her voluptuous asscheeks, a surefire way of informing the woman that he was ready for another go at it already. "I'm sure I could make you pass out, but I really want us to savor this night together," he started, pressing his lips to her temple and kissing along the length of her ear, all the way to the elven tip of it. "I want to make love to you, till you can only think of my cock. I want you to learn to worship it, the only way you, my little demoness, can..."

Between all the raunchy thoughts crossing his mind, he still managed to answer Morgana's smile with a smirk of his own, tilting his head to rest upon her shoulder. "And I'm happy I suit you, my little kitten. I never want this moment to end. I want to stay here with you forever. Till the end of time..."