Split of the Worlds (18+)

Chapter 9.3

!!! Trigger warning!!!

Sexual content, sexualised violence

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He numbly slipped the vest off Tazeel's slender body. Pulled the skirt from his hips. Pushed him to the bed until the seducer bumped backward against it. Pressed him onto the edge, spread his legs apart. Then he moved closer to him on his knees, pressing their bodies together. His mouth found the demon's shoulder, his tongue tracing a line up to Tazeel's ear.

In his mind, his tongue was a blade for a moment. Slit open, letting blood gush out in a satisfying fountain. But it didn't help.

It was safer to remain empty, to feel nothing. He blocked out the hands on his skin, as well as the pleasurable moans that the man in his arms was making.

Tazeel's whispers glided over him like more touches. He tried not to listen, because with every word that penetrated him, his desire to kill the seducer grew.

"Touch me."

The demonlord's arousal was clearly palpable to N'Arahn. He had never liked letting anyone get close to him. But this was worse. While he had tolerated the lust of other demons well, even considering it a success, every fiber of his being resisted touching this demon. Nevertheless, he slid his hand between their bodies, finding a rhythm that made the seducer gasp.

"Don't lie to yourself, you want this. Otherwise, you wouldn't be so good at it."

The words were lies, provocations. They both knew it. But they ate away at his thoughts like acid. Because his actions confirmed everything, even if he felt nothing.

The green-skinned demonlord placed a hand on N'Arahn's neck, pulled his head toward him, and kissed him. His wet tongue dug between the warrior's lips, and a new wave of nausea and anger washed over him.

He had to do something, had to give his aggression an outlet.

"You want everything?" he asked when he was able to pull away from the disgustingly moist kiss.

In response, Tazeel closed his eyes and spread his arms as if to invite the warmonger.

With a jerk, N'Arahn pushed himself up from his knees, pulling the seducer with him so that they both ended up lying on the bed. Before Tazeel could react, he had turned him onto his stomach and knelt between his legs.

He pulled the seducer's hips up, grabbed him hard, wanting to leave marks on him. Scratches, welts, bruises. He wanted to humiliate him, to take his breath away. To inflict on him everything that was possible within the terms of the contract.

Excitement now flowed through him, but only that of the fight. His shadow power helped him, replacing his lust so that he could take possession of Tazeel. As he thrust brutally into him, he leaned forward. One hand clawed into his enemy's hip, while the other pressed the demon face-first into the yielding fabric of the bed.

He had wanted it rough. He could give him that. He bared his teeth, but resisted the urge to bite. Not more of that taste.

The seducer writhed and moaned under his movements, not pulling away. N'Arahn realized with horror that the demonlord was enjoying this. But he didn't stop, making Tazeel bleed for what he had done to him and Veidja.

Veidja...

Suddenly, he realized what he was doing here. How he was doing it.

The brief elation of revenge collapsed. Involuntarily, he loosened his grip on the green-skinned man's neck.