Page 16 of Damsel to the Demon

The room fills with our grunts and groans, the sound of flesh against flesh. It's primal, raw, real. And all the while, her eyes hold me captive. They're not just beautiful; they're alive. And for the first time, I understand the difference.

“Oh, don’t stop. Don’t stop!” she moans as I continue grinding into her.

Her body trembles beneath me, a symphony of anger and lust. I can feel her sorrow seeping into my very being, mingling with the raw power of our union. The taste of her salty tears on my tongue is an exquisite torment, a prelude to the ecstasy that awaits.

I lean in, my gaze locked with hers, and run my tongue along her cheek, capturing each tear as it falls. Her breath hitches, and for a moment, she's still, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and defiance. She doesn't understand my desire, the strange fascination I have with her tears, her pain, her rage.

But she will.

My hand cradles her face, and with a tenderness that belies my nature, I tilt her head back, exposing the delicate skin of her eyelids. My heart thrums with anticipation as I lower my mouth to her trembling flesh. The first tentative lick is electric, a jolt of sensation that courses through us both. Her eyes flutter closed, and a shuddering gasp escapes her lips as I explore this new intimacy.

Her hands, which had been clawing at my back, now clutch desperately at my arms, her fingers digging into my skin. I can feel the conflicting emotions warring within her—fear, desire, confusion. And underlying it all, a fierce determination that only fuels my own need.

“You’re doing such a good job. Don’t stop, little human. Get it all out. Show me how badly you want me to hurt them.”

I move against her, each thrust driving her further into the stone behind her, and with each slide of my tongue over her eyelids, she seems to unravel a little more. Her moans grow louder, more insistent, a wild cacophony that echoes off the damp walls of her cell.

"Azaruk," she cries out, the sound of my name on her lips sending a shiver down my spine. It's a plea, a curse, a benediction. Her body tightens around me, the tension in hercoiling like a spring. And then, with a force that takes my breath away, she shatters.

The power within me surges forth, a torrent of dark energy that flows into her, binding us together in ways that words cannot describe. I can feel it taking hold, wrapping around her soul, marking her as irrevocably as any physical brand could. Her eyes, now wide open, blaze with a ferocious light, a testament to the power that she has accepted, that she now wields.

“You’re mine, Mercedes.”

“I’m yours. All yours.”

In this moment, she is more than mere human; she is a force of nature, a being of vengeance and fury. Her desperation, her destitution, her fury—it calls to something primal within me, a wellspring of power that I have never before shared with another. It is a testament to the bond that we have forged, a connection that transcends the physical realm.

As her climax ebbs, she collapses against me, her body spent, her breath coming in ragged gasps. I hold her close, pressing my forehead to hers, our breaths mingling, our hearts beating in unison. She is changed, transformed by the power that now courses through her veins. And I...

I am changed as well. For the first time in countless centuries, I find myself bound to another, connected in a way that I never imagined possible. She is my charge, my responsibility, my greatest creation. And though I may never fully understand the depth of my own feelings for this remarkable creature, one thing is certain:

Mercedes is mine, now and forever.

The cell, once a place of horror and despair, now feels different—charged with the energy of our union, the promise of the vengeance that she will wreak upon those who have wronged her.

Together, we will bring the dark elves to their knees, and in the aftermath, we will see what becomes of a demon and his human pet. But for now, I hold her, and she holds me, and we are enough.

9

MERCEDES

Power thrums through my veins, a heady cocktail of exhilaration and terror. My body aches, but it's nothing compared to the electric current dancing beneath my skin. Azaruk's talons comb through my hair, oddly gentle for a creature of such darkness.

"How do you feel, little one?" His voice rumbles against my back.

I swallow hard. "Alive."

He chuckles, low and dangerous. "That's putting it mildly."

The cold stone of the dungeon floor bites into my flesh, but I barely notice. Everything pales in comparison to this newfound strength coursing through me. I flex my fingers, marveling at the faint red glow pulsing beneath my nails.

"What... what am I now?"

He shifts, his muscled arm tightening around my waist. "Something new. Not quite demon, not quite human."

I turn to face him, searching those otherworldly eyes. There's no warmth there, no affection. Just hunger and satisfaction reminding me that this isn't love. It's a business transaction, sealed in blood and pleasure.

My mind races with questions, each one fighting to be the first off my tongue. I sit up, ignoring the chill of the dungeon air on my bare skin.

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