𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇, the daughter of the progenitor of demons finally returns home. With a heart black as night and a voice as alluring as a siren's, she only has one goal: To finish what she failed to do 300 years earlier.
All the while, failing to not...
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ASUNA BLINKED, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling with a curious clarity. It was dark in the room with only a small candle that was nearly burnt out and the scent of incense wafting around her.
She shifted her attention to the weight she felt along her shoulder, noticing instantly that it was a hand. It was adorned with several rings and a pair of gloves. The arm it was connected to was rather bulky and had a golden band around it.
Oh, she grimaced, thathappened.
As her eyes trailed up his arm, they finally landed on his face. He was beautiful, no, that would be an understatement. His face was a work of art. Literally.
He had a red tattoo plastered over his left eye and lashes that could rival all the women in the entertainment district. Not only that, his hair was a shining silver that seemed to cascade effortlessly down his face.
Asuna also noticed how he prided himself on his jewelry, for he had shiny gold earrings and a rather dazzling silver headband. He was different from the extravagant and dominant man he was at night, here he seemed rather peaceful— vulnerable even.
As if sensing her hostility, he shifted slightly in his sleep, though his hold over her kept strong. She let out a slight tsk before slipping out from under his grasp and putting a fresh new robe on.
How did she get into this situation?
The demoness turned to notice a pair of wine glasses at the coffee table and several bottles lying about.
She shook her head, Oh right.
━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━
The night prior...
He was like an animal devoid of any control, that was for sure. Before Asuna knew it, Douma was all over her, ravaging her lips with hungry kisses that even she had a hard time preventing his tongue from sliding into her mouth.
As her robes slipped to reveal her bare skin, the uppermoon quickly took the chance to run his chillingly cold hands over it. She was a demon, like he was, but as he touched her, he felt a heat radiating from her. The more he praised her body, the more intoxicating she became and the more he craved this warmth.
He could feel a tightening in his pants that would have been visible had he been wearing tighter fitting clothing. Soon though, he found himself being harshly pushed onto his back, the weight crushing the pillows below him.
"Ah," he breathed out, his eyes looking up at the sight in awe, "Is this the feeling of love so many followers come crying to me about?"
"Not quite," Asuna smiled as she knelt beside his ear, "You should know that better than anyone."
Now, the white-haired woman was on top and she slowly began to rock back and forth, the friction being muffled by the layers of clothing still present on their bodies.
