Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

"Oh, come on Peitho?! You know me better than anyone. I could never abandon a damsel in distress. And certainly not one as hot as Erika effing Burgess! She's an ecchi legend. Her Gyaru status is almost incomparable; she'll make a very nice waifu.

"Obedient. And loyal. And of a prominent House of nobility. Not to mention a billionaire heiress of her Magistrate father. So my answer is yes, Peitho. Hell freaking Yes! Let's get this uptown girl."

Rafel told his system this, in no uncertain orders, to engage [lust antenna] in his horns while keeping the brine-bone sprouts invisible to others he might pass on his way to search for her; and to hone in on Erika's specific location—because all skylings had a dominant, unearthly fragrance despite what the history books will tell you.

And in noble blood like Erika's, it was quite potent.

Rafel followed the beeping in his horns, as a little [Locator Orb] appeared between them. It circled in small, imperceptible movements; the amber orb glowed with golden fire. Not the sunfyre of the Fae though. Rafel hadn't really evolved that. No. It was a yellow flaming of his intrinsic Luciferan bloodline. It mimicked the purity of a [Throne's Halo]. As it beeped and spinned in the center of the curve of Rafel's horns, it acted like a guiding light on a wizard's staff in tandem with Peitho's leading.

The [locator orb] wobbled frantically as he neared a desolate stairwell. He was in Salem Hall, and in the plusher stories where the Year Presidents lived. Definitely better than the coed dorms in which the other students crashed—which was still cool. But this area of the Hall took it up a notch.

[DING!]

[Host's object of desire is close now!]

[Recalculating proximity. . .]

[12 feet]

There was only one path leading from the stairwell, up and to the left. Rafel took it, and was met with a single tall, golden-brown door. "She has an entire floor to herself? I'll be darned. Peitho, can you see this?" He was unable to stop his surprise. "Either way, it's better for me. I'm not complaining. No one will hear us here." Gently, he lifted his hand to the fine softwood door, and got into character.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

He knocked thrice.

He distanced the knocks. Rafel very well knew that every small gesture counted when trying to play the part of a 'shoulder-to-cry-on'. He almost snorted—and applauded—his own subtlety and sinister intent, when he heard a click from inside and the knob turn. He immediately schooled his face and comported the devilry in his eyes. Many women couldn't see through a fuckboy's acting; the girl that opened the door wasn't one of them.

Erika's beautiful face peered out through a small crack. Her door didn't even creak. Nice things didn't hurt. As godson of Lucifer, Israfel knew that better than anyone else. He looked on her and nearly smiled. Erika was stupid pretty. The kind of attraction that warranted a second glance... and her eyes was like the sea; it just pulled a man right in.

"Hi." Her voice was tiny. And she didn't fully open the door.

Rafel didn't push. Normally, he would forge right in and past her, but his system psychically reminded him of the role he was playing: a nice guy. And so rather than drag Erika's blonde head out from her loft-chamber and to the closest tavern, for a night filled with gushing ale, one she'd definitely regret on the morrow, he instead dipped his chin and said back.

"Hi."

He put all of the genuineness he could muster with a straight face into that single word. He really, really hoped she didn't see through the plaster of his poker face. He offered again, "Hi there, Miss President." He could see from her tear-streaked cheeks that she'd been crying, and so he tried for conversation.

Girls like Erika Burgess didn't breakdown, but when they did it was a meltdown and over the littlest things. There had to be some therapy in that. 'But I sure as shit ain't playing shrink tonight. I'm gonna get me some,' Rafel mused.

"Hey," Erika said quietly again, "it's only you."

Rafel gave a careful laugh. "Awesome. It's the demon...and who wants to see a demon when they're in tears."

"I'm not crying!" Erika fired, her voice rising for the first time.

Rafel raised up surrender hands; he played to her side. A moment of silence reigned by the doorway before he casually leaned against the golden frame, easily filling the space with tall, dark male. He told her, "are we going to trade Hi's! all night or are you going to invite me in. You could tell me to fuck off, shut the door in my face, but I'll probably just climb up your window. It's really not that far up. I have [Flame Wings] too. Did you know that?"

This made Erika smile. A real one. . .in a real, long time.

She pushed her door all the way open.

"Come in."

Those two words marked the success of the beginning of Israfel's seduction, and he knew it. He dwarfed the sensuous Blondie as he strolled into her room.

The chamber was vast. There was windows and sunlight everywhere. He likened it to how a Giant's cottage would look like. The long sills had parrots in cages and nesting pigeons. A real skyling room. He was impressed at how the room managed to keep a grip on homeliness at the same time boasting moneyed culture and taste in the finer things. Erika's room at the dormitory was well-placed on a high wing.

Aerial. Robust. Golden.

Just how the skylings liked it.

He was quick to compliment her taste.

"Wow! I see you, birdie," he joked with a small chuckle. His sudden nickname brought another smile to Erika's face as she led him to a long pale sofa. She dipped in next to him. Her smile cut out. Stay tuned with empire

"Cut the shit, Rafel. Why are you really here? I'm not your favorite person. I know this."

Rafel gulped. He decided to go with the truth—at least some form of it. "I saw what happened at the Dome. You don't need to be my favorite person for me to care. Plus, I don't see any of your socialite friends here."

"You're right." Erika sighed. "They're all at some after-party slash death rave at Sigma House—gosh, that place where boys are up to no good! You know, everyone thinks I'm just this uptight bitch. And yes, I kinda am. But... I've got other shades too. I hurt. I'm human. I don't terrorize other factions because I like it..."

Rafel gave a small smile. She caught it.

"—fine! Maybe I enjoy it a little. What I'm trying to say is that their words and laughing and fuckin' celebration really hurt. I know it's selfish of me to think it shouldn't, but it did. I really wanted us to come in first place: my Arc, I mean. Gods," she scoffed, "the irony of it.

"I'm talking about this to the one person with the coldest heart on the planet." She gave Rafel and slight nudge and leaned into him. "That should be a name tag for you. Behold Israfel BlüdThïrste, the demon with the coldest heart on the planet. Thank you for being here though." Her delicate hands wrapped around his huge bicep.

"Thank you so much."

They said nothing for a while. Erika cleaned off a loose tear on his shirt's sleeve. Then she kissed the spot. Rafel remained motionless on the sofa. She lifted her head from resting on his shoulder and she kissed his jawline next. And then his neck. When he still did or said nothing, she went for his mouth.

Her lips touched his but softly. She rubbed herself against his arm and began breathing heavily.

"Will you kiss me back, please," she whispered.

Second phase of seduction complete! He all but wolfed out. He had let her make the first move, and before long, she'd be begging for it.

Rafel evilly played dumb.

"Is this what you really want? Tell me, lovely Erika. I want to hear you say the words. You have to say them."

"I..."

Mwah! She picked up his hand and kissed inside of his wrist.

"...want..."

Mwah!

"...you."

Rafel grabbed her head and sunk her into his hard body, taking her mouth in harsh lust. She gave him just as much fervor. In seconds, he had her panting and clinging as they groaned on each other. She entered his lap, directing her naughty lips to his ear.

"...but I want this in my loving bed."

Rafel stood as she claimed his lips again; he carried her all the way there.

In her loving bed—which was an actual princess canopy, Rafel went slowly with her. He romanced her. He bled all her clothes away. And he went down on her, kissing her skin, nipping, licking. He made her sigh and stretch on the bed. His long fingers hooked on her panties, he dragged it down, and she melted into his mouth when velvet touched her core.

Her thighs clamping hard around his head, he brought her to first orgasm. She was a flower: her private curls damp and glistening. She parted her long legs for him, and he only knew she was a virgin when he pulled back following her second, shivering orgasm minutes later and found blood on his hard shaft.

"Erika?" His voice choked.

"It's alright," she said, "it didn't hurt. I was really turned on, I guess." She hopped naked to the bath and fetched a damp towel, and she cleaned them both. And then kneeled and sucked his cock.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Her tongue tasted the salty tip of his precum, and she gave it a slow lick, looking up to his wildcat eyes.

"You don't have to be so soft with me."

She carried his fingers and put it to her throat.

Rafel breathed harder; she did too, when his war-bled hands closed around her neck. "This turns you on?" He asked in hard bass. The only reply she could manage was a nod and a moan.

Rafel was more than happy to fulfill her passion: he rammed his cock into her throat until tears leaked down her eyes, holding her down at the bed's edge as gushing saliva from her mouth ran down his legs. She loved his tan meat. He was gallant. Her warrior. She sucked his cock like a good servant girl—and a bitch faerie.

Her glorious demon proceeded to throw her into her loving bed where he pounded her facedown, asphyxiating her and bringing her to mind-blowing, shuddering climax several time. In the heat of their wild tangling, they both lost sense of time. The night was long and they made good use of it. Real sweaty use of it.

The morning met them with her riding hard on top of him as he bruised her backside with his callused hand.

Erika had lost count of her orgasms at fifteen.

She was blissfully resting atop his wolfishly long and warm body when the bells came tolling in, and he said: "I already have a harem, princess. I make no promises for the future."

"I need none." Erika countered. "I will gladly be your bitch sidepiece."

She pulled her head up, golden strawberry hair framing her face in the perfect halo. And she grinned. "I knew you were only playing the nice guy to get in my pants."

"You knew?"

"Yeah. It didn't matter. You actually quit your dark ways to get me. And it's the thought that counts, isn't it?"

Rafel returned her smile, incredulous. He had a feeling the weekend would be wonderful.

Just freaking wonderful.