Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

"WOULD YOU HELP ME with this?"

Israfel sat on Aya's bed as she stood in front of her cool blue vanity. He had been watching her quietly dress; it brought him some inner male pride to stare at his personal slave and know that all the lush curves he saw belonged to him, and only he. Fuck if he cared about the psychology of it. At her soft call, he rose off her bed and stepped behind her in front of the ornate looking-glass.

Picking the necklace she held out back to him, he whispered over her.

"Hold up your hair."

He was so tall the top of his head was beyond the mirror's capture. Aya Naamah came up to his chest, just at his sternum. She loved how enveloping her Lord Master was. As she grasped onto her wealth of dark hair, Rafel drew in lungfuls of her [aurora mist] fragrance and studied the sparkles on her blue-blush nails. He loved this quiet time with his [Bond].

Now he knew why his uncle, Lord Morningstar kept his own concubine, Vashti with his all these many centuries. No earthly relationship, parental or filial, could compare to the union between a demon [Sire] and his Bond—whatever species such Hellion deigned to pick from.

Rafel unlocked the necklace and wrapped it around her fair neck. Her skin was so delicate and pure. The real bluish tints of her succubian origins were translucent under the amber bedchamber lights. The periapt hung down to spot of skin just above her cleavage. If he'd asked the mirror now, it would sure as hell proclaim Aya Naamah the fairest of them all. She was his Snow White.

Her rich ebony waves and skin of a mulatta princess.

The charm dangling down her bodice was his gift: the prize of the Great Hunt. The very labor he had just won.

Rafel lifted his eyes to mirror and stared enamored at the little ivory antlers against her lightest brown skin.

"Naamah, you are beautiful. I should tell you that more."

"Oh, m'lord," she fell into his chest, her heart swelling with deep immortal love, "I know how you feel about me. You don't need to spoil me every week for it. And this periapt of Athena... it's too much. Everyone in the school knows it is the prize of the hunt, which you won fair and square. It is more valued than a green ocean diamond.

I-I just don't think I should have it."

Rafel's lips lowered to her ear. He purred thickly against the flutter of her pulse, mildly stroking her neck with bites. "You're right. The charm is mine. And as such I am free to do with it as I want." His large hand closed over her neck. "—to give to whom ever I want.

And I want you, Naamah."

Aya shivered on her feet. "I-I w-want you too, my lo—"

"Shush." His thumb entered her mouth. "I want you to have it. I'm not changing my mind about it. I want you to walk the halls of the fucking citadel with it in your neck. I want them to see it on you. I want them to stare, and gossip, and know that you are mine.

In public, you will wear the charm as my collar on you." Aya moaned and rubbed herself back into him. He was so big and warm. She sucked on his finger and he swiftly pulled it out.

His yellow eyes burned as it met hers in the mirror.

"Don't tempt me." He growled.

And he released her. She closed her eyes a second to calm the heady arousal. Rafel went back and sat on the bed. His gaze scorched the little distance to her. He said in wolfish bass, "now get those fucking heels and let's go."

Aya nodded, and speedily dived into her closet for the expensive set that rose to meet her eyes. Her Lord Master did spoil her in many, many ways.

The winners of the Hunt had been announced four hours ago, at the last scarlet light of dusk. It was few minutes into nine o'clock now, but far in the amphitheater, the leaderboard still glowed with the twelve shiny names. The great holographic screen lit the tar sky above it and spilled onto the surrounding streets by the colosseum. Aya stared at it as their carriage went past the host stadium.

It was just tall enough that she could see the gilded letters spelling the first name on the board.

Her Sire's name.

She turned back from the window with a smile, to look at him. This time it was her with the eyes full of pride. Violet. Seductive. With cheeks blushed by the cold night air. Rafel was already making her night, and they weren't even at Bolta's party yet.

How much more interesting can this night stretch? In the carriage, the lovely mulatto succubus played her forefinger against her magenta lips.

Soon enough, the lordly carriage rolled to a stop outside a fine statesman complex.

It was a duplex house, built in great pillars; the Olympian standard. Bolta's house. Knowing her father, Rafel expected nothing less. A gold sigil thunderbolt was carved high into the top section of the white façade. Many boys and girls spilled around the block, engaged in different forms of partying—which may or may involve certain white-nosed powders.

Two boys openly kissed at the door as Rafel and Aya pushed in.

A stocky [Third Year] tossed them a beer can.

"Sissies!"

The boys broke to yell at him. "Homophobe!" "Prick!" And promptly went back to their kissing.

The club music pumping out into the yard had several dancing inside and on the porch. Rafel was accustomed to sounds of clanging sword. Teens blasting electric rock music didn't stand a chance. He didn't hold hands with Aya as they walked in, but the moment eyes' closed around the ivory charm on her neck, everyone knew she had some type of relationship with the crimson champion.

A lot of the party bunch stared at the redhaired winner as he moved. The throng parted for him and Rafel could hear the murmurs under the music. It was the gossiping of the ton that attracted Bolta from her place under a sconce at the far right wall, surrounded by plenty of her Arc members eager to hear of the Herculean labors the runner-up had faced in the game.

Bolta eased away from the circle of Blue Faction fans with a smile. Their gazes told of their worship.

"Hey, Israfel! You made it."

Rafel returned her smile as she came close. One of her hands was inside the pocket of her baggy denim pants, blue like her faction. Most of those around had Pegasus blue in their hair or on their wrist, but the party was open to all. In Bolta's mind, everyone in the Hunt had the balls, big enough to go in. She leaned in to whisper to Rafel;

"Everyone's talking 'bout you."

Rafel looked around. Sure enough, fifty and one groupies met his eyes deadon.

Bolta turned to his right and greeted Aya with a kiss on both cheeks. "Hey, darling."

Bolta pulled back to look at her. Rafel's gaze had returned to the both of them. Aya parted her sweet lips to apologize for their tardiness. "Sorry we're late. I'm evil with mirrors." Bolta chuckled and waved her off. She lowered her voice.

"You're right on time. I love my people, but I'd rather do something else than talk about the Bengal I had to spear in there. And I really fucking love cats!"

Aya and Rafel said at the same time:

"What something else?"

"I bet you do."

They all laughed, and Bolta leaned even closer to reply Aya's ask. "Come with me, Succubus, and I'll show you."

She raised up her eyebrows invitingly. Aya took her swinging hand. And they both started off. "Well come on, DEMON." Bolta flirted back. She led her two invitees around the main party hall. They ran up high silver stairs and came up a storey.

Rafel was too busy in awe of Bolta's rapturous curves to notice much of anything until she kicked in a door in a much quieter, colder hallway.

The music reached this part of the house as warbled whispers.

Rafel shut the door behind them. The latch engaged and the three were finally alone.

There was only one piece of furniture in the vast white space: a very large bed. Wispy yellow light spilled in from streetlamps through the long glass windows. It cast beautiful shadows on the bare floors. Bolta moved close to Rafel. "Whatever happens next is totally up to yo—"

Rafel grabbed her head, taking her words into his mouth.

His kiss was sudden and a blast of electricity to Bolta. His mouth was delicious and stoked the fire that had being burning all night in anticipation of him. Of this very thing they were about to do. "Mhmm." Bolta fisted his shirt when he deepened the angle. She had to tear away to breathe; she could kiss the beautiful boy all night. Rafel let her push him against the door.

He rested his back against it, knowing how well his compliance turned her on.

"Stay, please. I just wanna watch you." Bolta bit her bottom lip hard.

She moved back and ripped off her blue jacket. She dragged up her shirt, breathing hard when she saw Rafel's amber eyes darken on the ink across her belly. She had hard abs. A fiery sexiness about her. Her hands went back and she popped her bra. She massaged the released peaks with both hands.

Rafel growled by the door. "I want to touch too."

"Stay," she purred, "stay right fucking there!"

Bolta was already shaking from need. She felt she would just about loose the lid on her own teasing. She tore at the fly of her hard military trousers, and pulled it down. She tossed it far across the sultry room to the window with her boot. It made a thunk with the glass. And she stood, haloed in pure light.

Her tights were dark blue, like her eyes, and like her energy. Dark blue lightning.

Barefooted, she padded for Rafel.

Her luscious body flattened him against the door.

"I want you, soldier," he grated, licking her neck.

SWAT!

Rafel's right palm connected with her butt cheek.

"Oh yeah? How much?" Bolta managed; he was squeezing her ass. And his left hand was busy with her heavy breasts, clutching and grasping. "How fucking much?" She grinded against his body.

Rafel raked the hand on her giant buttocks up her back and fisted her punk hair. He pulled so she met his eyes. And said in cold fever desire, "I want you like Hades and Persephone. I want you like death."

Bolta, hearing these words melted in his grip. It was thr weirdest but sincerest thing anyone had said to her. At that moment, her need reached it's peak. And her body burst into sparks of blue lightning. The crackling of electricity zapped across her skin. It glowed ethereal blue, and shimmered like tiny shards of sapphire-glass.

It burned the clothes off Rafel's body.

The hard maleness of him kissed up her inner thigh, seeking connection.

"Oh gods! I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Bolta tried to apologize for the lightning zaps. "It happens when I'm very horny."

Rafel turned her chin up to his face. "I like you just fine, thunder girl." His voice hardened. "—but that's the last soft shit you'll get from me."

Bolta didn't even have time to think on his words, before she was turned over and slammed into the wall. In Rafel's place. He was suddenly behind her. "Ohh." Bolta gasped. Her dragged down the flimsy tights to her knees. Too inflamed by lust to get comfortable, Rafel pummeled into her, right there against the wall.

"Oh fuck." He and Bolta hissed together.

The connection was slick and tight.

Rafel didn't pull out for the first few seconds. He held inside her that way, and let her grind and whimper. Aya Naamah walked out of the shadows the lamps didn't reach. She moved to the wall, where Rafel bent Bolta back by her hair; his cock deep inside her, throbbing hot. Gently, she touched Bolta's shoulder and the blue zaps of electricity snapping at her fingers.

She kissed Bolta's godly flesh. "Do you feel that, thunder girl? It's US about to fuck the shit out of you."