Categories nsfw

Of Blood and Apples – NSFW

Warning: sex and blood. I went rather wild with it 😀

 

 

He never truly cared for food. Even as a young autumnal prince, he ate scarcely, now, when he fed on the gods’ power, he didn’t need anything other to nurture himself. His vein were filled with liquid magic and his body was slowly refusing to accept anything more. Darkness circled in him, feeding all his needs for food.

But he had one weakness.

The apples from the core trees. The beating veins of Dal’coler. Their taste was like a spell itself and poured over his throat like a flood of sensations which evaded comprehension. Their texture was another thing, too. Soft, like made of storm clouds.

And it was filled with pure blood.

The blood of the Ain’asel and everyone it devoured, which beat in the heart of his castle. Growing on the glimmering branches, bound inside by higher magic.

He took one of the apples in his fingers and his gaze drifted on the woman, who just emerged from the darkness which was only meekly alight with the fairylights, dim and casting shadows on the walls.

Lorian leaned in his seat, his lips curled in a vicious smile.

Nymre looked stunning tonight. Her white, lilac-touched hair was falling in cascade over her naked arms, a small tiara – which he gifted her – adorned her temple, gleaming above her beautiful, wide, blue eyes. Her slender body could be naked, that revealing her robe was – a gossamer of white thread, a stark contrast to her black wings, which now spread behind her, moving slowly… she knew he liked the touch of her feathers, and she tempted him with a promise of a caress – and he couldn’t not admit that it works on him.

She slowly approached him, coming more into the fairy lights, which were surrounding him, attracted by his shadowed magic. They desperately wanted to light it up, following their inner instinct. Lorian felt as their glimmering and soft magic tried to hush his power, but failed miserably.

“I see you like  their attention” purred Nymre and her fingers closed over one of the lights. It started to pulse in her hand, trying to escape. “Maybe I should be jealous.”

“You blame the creatures of light to be attracted to darkness” his smile playful, a spark dancing in his black eyes.

“Perhaps. Too many of them wander in this palace” laughed Nymre… and released the light, which started to dance frantically in place.

“I prefer… less pure” his features darkened but a smile still present on his lips. “More depraved.”

Of course he liked pure, though. They were more delicious to deprave. But Nymre didn’t need to know that. Now, only her and him were important. He enjoyed giving her all his attention.

“Oh, so you think of me as a depraved fairy” she teased him and slowly, her hand ran through his chest. Pressed his abdomen. Lingered there, to tease him and test his patience. And landed between his legs. His eyes crossed with her gaze and she slowly started to caress him, deliberately, with precision, that – to be completely true – only she possessed.

He felt he was becoming harder. His need grew, fast. Her caress each second slower and more tasty.

He bit through the flesh of the apple he held.

It hit him with a wave of pleasure, the soul of Dal’coler  flooding his tongue with blood, and all hopes and fears of its victims. It was not a caress, it was a lustful explosion in his mind. Something  only high fae could feel, and he took it all in, allowing it to spread over his body with hot crimson.

He pulled Nymre closer, dragging her between his legs. She willingly complied, he felt her pulse beat faster, in her mind – a delicious scenarios, which worked him up even more. He smiled even more hungrily, blood trickling slowly off the corner of his lip, and staining his fingers.

“I think you really need it now” he purred and dragging her even closer, he offered her the apple. She laughed darkly and slowly started to lick his fingers which held it. She was good at it. Doing it in such a tempting and perverse way. Her eyes never lost contact with his, to catch every change caused by lust, which could appear in them. Until her tongue found the fruit and she voraciously bit into it. He could see how strong sensation ran through her body and he released tendrils of darkness; they slowly crept through her skin, entering through her pores and Nymre wailed.

He loved it when she was doing it. No one cried like Nymre, when the pleasure was coming. He caressed her face, leaving blood droplets and she leaned to his touch, a sigh escaping her lips.

“You were right,” she murmured. “I really needed it.”

“I always know what you crave for” he was aware that she can clearly see how that worked on him. And he enjoyed letting her know.

“I know so well what you need, my beautiful lord.”

She descended, each move a caress for the eyes. Her hands slowly started to untie his trousers, her tongue licking off the blood from her lips. He had to admit, she was stunning. He never loved any of his lovers. But he loved her, both her inner darkness, and her tempting beauty. When she pulled him out, she cocked her head and purred seductively.

“I think it lusts for invigorating treatment too” and her bloodstained tongue ran over his skin. He felt himself throbbing already and it was such a good thing. He never had enough of it. Of her soft tongue, of her sucking lips, of her supple fingers. And it all was his.

Her work on him was so sloppy when he took him into her mouth. She knew exactly, oh how well, how he loved that. Being sucked loud and filthy. He allowed her to do it to him, feeling more and more tension between his legs. He knew she would adore it, if he came into her mouth, but he didn’t intend to. It would be too fast. Way too fast.

“You are so thirsty” he sighed and when she nodded and released him from her mouth with a loud smack, he knew he couldn’t hold the need anymore. He wanted to fuck her, just as she liked most, just as he liked most. Their tastes in sex were similar, both liked rough.

He wanted to fill her up.

He took a bite again, hungry one. The bleeding juice poured and dripped on her face, her smile becoming wider, pure lust. He pulled her and his lips met with hers. She tasted of the core apples’ flesh, so much. Everything in her tasted of blood. A beautiful and sinful taste of pure magic. Darker than starless night. More dangerous than the rotten branches that grew off the decaying tree.

“Lorian…” she sighed into his mouth and he raised up, lifting her with himself, her blue eyes alit. “Do it. Hard. Crave me.

He chuckled. Oh yes. He never wanted to do her otherwise, not when living spells circled in his veins. He pulled her up so their hips aligned and he carried her on the bed, to lay her there and again join her in a kiss, stained with blood. The already tasted apple still in his hand, pressed the skin on her stomach. He quickly, hungrily, removed the gossamer dress of his way, her chest heaving in anticipation, her skin glestening in faint light.

He took the apple and looking into her eyes, again, intensely, he squeezed it over her breasts. She caught a breath, when the blood dripped on her skin, and started to trickle down.

“You look stunning in crimson” his voice deep and seductive, like a murmur of a distant and looming storm. He lowered down and started to lick the blood off her, feeling as her body tenses under the touch of his tongue. His fingers delved between her legs, massaging her slowly. She was so heated. And he was too, for her. He took the trickling string of blood and led it just in a place where she felt the most. The sound she made, rewarded him hundrefolds.

This was so delicious. He wanted to please her until she collapsed under him, spent and sweated.

His shadows released tendrils again, and they danced over her wrist. Her smile wider, when they closed on her hands and bound them above her head, intertwining with the bed frame. From this bind she could never escape, even if she wanted.

But she didn’t.

He felt it in his mind, how her frantic thoughts inject lust into his veins. Her wings curled above his back and dragged him closer.

“My beautiful lord” she murmured into his arm.

“My hungry raven” he replied with a vicious grin and fit into her, hard and deep.

He loved it when her legs embraced his hips and pulled so close. His hands were leaving slight trails of blood on her skin, when he moved inside her, dragging himself off her walls and licking her from the inside out.

“Fuck me, Lorian” she groaned, her voice deep and almost threatening. And he loved that too. His need grew even more, pulsating in his groin, when Nymre started to try to wriggle her hands off his shadows, wanting to embrace him.

“You are trapped” he huffed into her ear, his hands moving up her arms and higher, until they reached her palms and stayed there, holding her in an even harder embrace.

“I love it” she grunted. Her wings closed completely over him, her legs spreading even more, to allow him to go deeper.

She was all his. Her body, which she adored to offer him. Her mind, which now swirled with wild thoughts, feeding his desire. And even her soul, it was his too, forever. This was so good, to just lose himself between feathers and skin, feeling the soft flesh stretched over him, welcoming him inside. He loved her, and her bright darkness, his beautiful gleaming side of the moon.

He felt the pleasure built in him. As he throbs and how it works on Nymre. The scent of blood and magic was more potent now, when their mixed aura started to absorb each other. He sensed her light glamour insisting under his skin, as his darker power traveled over her body and pushed into her, making her feel everything that he felt. It was intense in the best way.

He knew she was close, he felt that both in her mind and in a way that her folds started to clamp on him. He buried deeper, so deep, fucking deep. She wailed again, a sweet almost pained sound, which he liked so much. And she came, closing over him, pulsing in delicious synchronicity with his own throbs.

“Come, come…”she urged him. “Fill me up.”

His last thrust buried her deep into the bedsheets and pinned her to it, when he released. The sensation was so strong, that his form flickered and his shadow self slowly started to emerge from a deeply concealed place. His shapes changed, for a second, a moment, and for this moment, he was made only from pure solidified night, a beast of shadows and darkness.

A form that Nymre loved.

Her legs buried into the night, which washed her with moonlight and stars, white and gleaming. Just into her. Filling her until she dripped.

Time stopped. Like always when he was changing. It felt like eternity, when he felt how her gaze goes through his darkest form and buries in his soul. He felt with clear intensity, how wet she is, how she slowly pulsates, how the blood from the apples fills his veins with strong sensations, circling in him with condemned souls that he ended himself.

It was perfect, hot like a white flame. It was him. It was them. Two dark creatures, feeding on each other’s pleasure.

When he reshaped, she was laying under him, just as he wanted – spent and sweated, with her white hair scattered on the bed in a messy way.

He grinned wildly at her, hunger never leaving his lips.

“Your night… it’s  alluring” she smiled, a tired, content smile. “Darkness that pleases me so well. I can’t say no to this.”

“Why should you?” he ran his fingers through her hair.

“I don’t have to” she smiled wider. “And that is the most beautiful of it all.”

Categories nsfw

Temptation Waits – Lorian/Leira (Early NSFW chapter)

{ they will become such a beautiful, sex-oriented, filthy and hot lovers }

Temptation Waits

Leira couldn’t focus. Her mind whirled, her heart squeezed. Lady Nymre was nit delicate and sweet, the truth she showed her was more than obvious, in any way. A brutal, deadly truth, stripped off every finesse.

She almost expected that. But now, she felt bare and exposed. If Nymre would like to make her suffer, she will. She doubted she feared her mate. She was a promise of pain, a promise of the fall.

Only because she was seeing something that would never happen.

Only because she fought and lost.

Her steps were silent, taking her on a secluded balcony, separated from the winter cold with a magical barrier which allowed only slightly chill air.

Her breath caught in her throat, she could almost feel all the threads escaping her fingers, the lost path of someone who thought she should fear only one thing.

To be boring.

She laughed, bitter laughter. You were never safe.

You were delusional thinking that you can get close to him, not annoying her, not making her jealous. You thought you could play with shadows and not get choked. They were Fae, they were inhuman in every aspect. Possessive and dark.

She never was so scared and deflated. Maybe because now, she had life she didn’t want to lose and hoped… for something. For something elusive, that was as out of reach as close, falling into her hands with poisoned glitter.

She inhaled the fresh night scent, which the barrier allowed in. The night thrived outside, wild and pure. It came to her with the smell of fresh snow and pine trees.

And the scent of violets.

And jasmine.

A bile arose in her throat. Almost choking her.

Lorian approached, silent like a cat, his handsome features lightened up from within, with a strange inner light. His pose was not threatening, more… relaxed. And he looked slightly different. Something was off and at the same time completely in place. She realized she was looking at him, and she lowered her gaze, as fast as she could.

“You were never coming here. This is your first time. Is your head so full of nightmares that you need a beautiful sight?”

She caught herself shocked by this approach. Normal. So normal. Like he shed his cruel calculated skin, leaving only glimmering afterglow.

He had to enter her mind, to see how often she hid in places like this. She knew he does that sometimes, instead of asking – it was much easier for him, and he didn’t bother to not be a privacy intruder. But it was not it which made her suddenly anxious. There was something more to him now, which… scared her.

She found out that she had never been in such a situation before.This was almost improper, his easy behavior, when he leaned over a balustrade and gazed at her with a playful, natural smile. It somehow made her feel afraid. This was not normal, alien. He should gloat over her situation, taking pleasure from his mate’s actions. He should say something awful, something twisted. With a second, darker meaning.

But he…

… was just smiling beautifully, looking at her with his usual intensity. She couldn’t not look, secretly. With the corner of her eye.

“If it’s your place, my lord…”

“It’s a place for anyone I chose to be. It can be yours, as well” he summed her worries with a raise of one of his brows, his tone amused. Like he was not over a thousand years old, but barely twenty.

She felt… a bit unreal. This was unreal. He never met her in such a way. Why? She could never imagine him being so normal, even if she was aware he was able to.

“You, Leira, are an enigma” he mused, looking into the stars, slight shadows dancing in his hair. “I like enigmas. More than open books, laying in the lamplight.”

“I am pleased that you find me interesting, my lord” she just uttered, her senses alert.

“Oh” he chuckled, darkly, a bit of his normal way pushed on the surface. “You truly are a good devoted servant. One every sensible fey could wish to push on the path to eternity. And you… you are eternal, Leira. Like Fae. Like me.”

His gaze now almost stripped her off any confidence.

It was tense, fiery. Tempting and alluring, She felt as the night air became lighter. Not pressed like in the palace. Light, like far away from here, in her homeland.

He suddenly separated from the balustrade and got closer, one step closer, but for her, it was too much.

Or too little.

She suddenly thought of Nymre. Of her rageful eyes, trying to peel her skin off with mere gaze. Of her silent fury, which was able to break her life in half, if she wished.

She swallowed, hard.

This couldn’t happen.

It was unnatural.

Dangerous.

Seeing her hesitation, maybe even fear, he formed a smile which looked youthful, mischievous and intriguing. How much did he read in her mind? How much did he know?

She found herself being pressed to the balustrade, where Lorian laughed lightly, a beautiful sound. Something that could lure a mortal into a pit filled with sin.

“So much fear. I think I told you once, long ago. That I will never harm you. Maybe though you hate me so much, that even this distance is too much for you. You have the right to it. I, after all, loved that you hated me.”

His eyes gleamed with delighted playfulness.

“I—”

She didn’t know how to react. He was so natural. So… 

Like he wore a special mask for her… or shed all the others.

“Tell me, Leira…” his smile became darker, but not in a way she expected. “Do you hate me even if in small amounts? Would you prefer me to be fallen, dead? Or… would you prefer my soul swallowed by the gods?”

Leira felt as he got even closer. She had no means of escape.

And she didn’t want to.

Suddenly her world turned upside down. His closeness scared her but at the same time lit something in her that awaited for long years, growing in her, releasing tendrils and roots into her veins, feeding on her like a leech.

“Do you hate me, Leira, with a strong, beautiful hatred?” he purred, his voice low and seductive.

She still didn’t dare to look at him. He could do that on purpose. Tempting her with normalcy, even with this sudden unbelievable affection, to later crash her against his cruel ways. But somehow, she felt that he didn’t. He didn’t, goddess forgive her.

He was so close to her, she could look into his eyes and see every glimmering sparks in them, if she had courage. He slowly touched her face, almost a caress and it made her heart sink.

“Do not fear me. That is the last thing I would desire.”

And she knew she had lost. She hated him for this. She truly did. But…

This was… something she imagined sometimes. Darkest dreams, darkest fantasies, which she painted in her head when she was alone, with wild, messy, dirty brushes. But hated herself for it, for betraying her ideals, for even daring thinking of it. For being weak and unworthy of being a human. For being evil. For being brainwashed by a deadly enemy, who could kill her with a thought. For being a traitor, who would prefer to fuck the Fae king, rather than help those who he tormented.

Maybe she was twisted, after a long time of seeing things she shouldn’t.

It wasn’t love though. It was a severe need. Need that grew in her, like his shadows.

It was pure lust. Lust for him, which awoke in her long ago.

And she repressed it for so long, that it almost hurt.

“I know you desire me, I can feel it” he smiled, a smile of a dying star, a perfect collapse. “Do you desire me, Leira?”

She looked at him, hating herself, but loving every moment of it. She raised her gaze, at his face. Forbidden, as the dark night itself.

“Yes” , her voice muffled, low. She felt as the world closed over her. Like it tore her limbs with millions of talons.

Weak. Brainwashed. Other humans would say so, hating her more than the Fae. Evil. Traitor.

Even with their pitch black darkness, his black holes beamed with want. Fuck it. Fuck it hard. He wanted her. Maybe now, at this moment, more than Nymre.

He was dark. He was cruel. But she wasn’t pure either. Not in any way. She was doing things other humans would find terrible. She became dark, just as this palace, just as this place, forgotten by the goddess.

And she didn’t want to fear anymore. She wasn’t weak. She sacrificed her whole innocence to become strong, to stay alive. The fear was not an option now.

He leaned over her, the touch of his lips so warm. She somehow knew they would be warm, not cold, like the winter he ruled over. His scent of violets was even more prominent now.

He could do that long ago. But he never did. In all those hard, thirty years in Dal’coler, he never even tried to touch her. There was something vicious creeping into her soul, a victorious joy, a forbidden rapture, which she should ease, but didn’t want to. She wanted to feel him inside.

And betray all she believed in. Give in to darkness.

He lifted her dress, and the light chill air ran over her exposed skin. She could feel the hard stone she was pressed onto from behind. His hands ran over her hips, caressed her thighs, slowly, with visible hunger. He dragged her close. Very close. Her breasts flattened against his chest, she could feel how warm he was, even through his clothes.

They didn’t need any foreplay. They both just wanted to fuck. Stripped of all thoughts, just carnal desire. She wanted him to have her, to melt her brain away and let her forget who she is.

He pressed her harder against the balustrade, like he wanted to squeeze her between the bars. She couldn’t not let out a groan, deep, low one, which he swallowed with a deep kiss, tasting like frozen berries, like something very cold melting on her tongue in extreme heat.

Unreal.

Wrong.

Unnatural.

But she wanted it. She wanted it since long years.

She wanted to feel the darkness in her veins.

She quickly started to pull his trousers off, chaotically; he allowed that, with a hungry, vicious grin. She was so wet already, and she loved it, loved that he could feel it. A visible showcase of her desire, lack of any restraints. His finger dragged over her, just between her legs and drew the wetness, his playful gaze locked at her and she knew he liked that.

He lifted her up, rubbing against her with a delicious precision. She could feel him sliding over her wet clit. Her moan was louder now, causing him to chuckle. Yes, he had the right to it. She was so filled with need. And she started to lose any feelings of guilt because of that.

Her legs embraced him in the waist, just where he was hard, and he entered her, slowly, his eyes fixed on hers, to swallow all her doubt that was still left.

His shadows slowly started to creep in, released by his desire, and to dance on her skin. 

His thrusts were perfect, strong, just as she imagined. He seemed to melt into her and pull her soul out of her, replacing it with liquid darkness. He knew how to do it well, he had so much time to perfect it, through thousand of years. This thought pushed a wild growl out of her throat.

When she felt something that she only heard of. She always was finding it scary, but now, when his dark entered her alongside him, she bit her nails into his back and dragged him with her, feeling the tingling of the barrier on her back, opening more for him, allowing him to take her even harder.

She could feel everything he felt, his pleasure, even his dark thoughts, which swirled around them in a lustful jig. It was unreal too, like washed over time after time with tiny climaxes.

It has been so long since she did that.

She almost forgot.

And now, of all Fae who could desire her… she was with him.

His grin was alluring, tempting and swallowing all light from her soul. Perfect. He wanted her and it was pure. He didn’t want Nymre now. He wanted her.

He didn’t want Nymre. Not when he did that to her.

His hips drove him into her in a rhythm that dragged a muffled cry from her throat. She felt as the pleasure slowly became stronger. It was such a fucking long time. So long since she had anyone. And it was perfect. He guessed her. She needed it. She needed him, of all.

He buried himself within her with a hard, slow thrust and leaning over her, he grasped at her ass, his fingers dug in her skin. It was so good. She loved feeling him pressed to her, with her dress lifted up over her hips and legs joined over his back, pushing him inside. Her tail tangled around his legs, squeezing him hard; she hoped he felt that.

She melted in his hands, which moved over her body, tasting her curves and skin, holding her in firm grasp, pressing her onto his chest, squeezing pleasure from her, which was slowly pooling between her legs, like sweetest and darkest delight. Oh goddess… he was so hard… so good. She felt him so well. She knew she is about to crash into total oblivion. Her moans were soft and desperate, filled with strong need.

“I admire you. I admire you, Leira” he whispered and it was so real, the only thing she ever needed to hear. She closed over him and climaxed, pulsating around him.

When she was coming down from her peak, she felt his release, hot, mixed with shadows and darkness, delightful, and that again threw her deep into forbidden pleasure.

So long. Like she felt this for the first time again, with someone, not with her hand or a pillow.

He admired her. This sadistic fucker admired her, after all what he has done. After taking her on the wildest and maddest trip filled with screams and night.

And she loved it, loved being taken against the cold stone.

She loved it, absolutely. She was not brainwashed, she was not a victim anymore.

She was dark too.

And he knew that.

He knew that she was dark and lost.

So he decided to show her the way.