To the Victor goes the Spoils/Continued

Author’s note: I own nothing… except the WORLD!!! Mwahahahahaha!!!

She was doing it again, almost without knowing, almost. Topec watched, watched her sway her hips as she paced his quarters. She was frustrated, and trying not to let him know it. Improving hell’s defenses was taking a great deal of his time, he had little to spare for the pleasures of the flesh. Coincidentally he had been ignoring his consorts, perhaps unfairly, but it was exhausting work. Both mentally and physically draining, and with no ease or hope of one. Mentally because the labyrinths defense system was so complex, and had not been fully operated for some time. Physically because he was improving himself, and was not giving any quarter. His close failure with the Horiff drove him, enraged a part of him that should always remain calm. Man and demon were ruthless in retaliation, unwilling to accept anything but perfection from themselves.

Sharpening blades was the least of it, Leviathan was the heart. Angelique had noticed this, watched him shadow spar with the skills that the years had graciously heaped upon him. She sighed when he pressed himself harder, when she smelt his sweat for the first time in ages, and reveled in his relentless fire. He was making her burn, and seemed oblivious to it. It was much like their younger years, if they could be called such. That time when they were Gash, both of them, and sought souls with his fellows or alone. He had been a stag in full strength, with golden pins as his kingly antlers. But the years had passed, and a new stag had risen to lock points with the king.
It had been a battle of titans; blood had flowed like rivers as they sliced each other to shreds. And oh, that heart stopping moment when he had fallen, his legs slashed from under him, his defiant roar as with the last of his strength he dragged Exstapis down with him to continue the battle in the dust. Leviathan had stopped them, denying all of hell the clear evidence of which was greater.
Exstapis had been made head of the Gash, and Topec had watched with an aura of acceptance as his son, blood of his blood, succeeded him.

That had been ages ago, and with time Topec had become more a lion than a stag, magnificent, but without the drive that had once made him so great. It was good to see him rear again, bloodthirsty, fully armed, radiating that hunger to seek, and be sought.
It made her wet just thinking about it…
But, there’s always a but. Just as it had been before, his mind was not in the bedroom.

And she was becoming desperate.

He was watching her now, his eyes dark, but not hungry. It was enough to make a grown demon cry. She would know. She is one. She swayed a tad more, hoping she hadn’t pushed it.

“Is there something you require Angelique.”

She’d pushed it. With what she hoped was her most enticing smile she turned to him. The coy answer died on her lips. He lay, strait backed, one leg carelessly tossed across the other. His arm at rest on one side of the mattress, his other held the blade he had been examining for flaws. Head oh-so-slightly tilted, and golden pins just catching the light…
She was going to cry. This was hell, and she was in it. Apparently a look but don’t touch policy was now in place, it wasn’t fair!

“…Angelique?”

She had had enough, if he wouldn’t take the hint, she’d force the damn thing on him. She moved quickly, crawling upon the mattress. He blinked, eyes narrowing but before he could speak she was on him. Her arms wrapped around his shoulders as her tongue tasted his lips.
For about a minute he sat and just stared at her, she had never been so bold, it was… hmmm… not entirely unpleasant. She nipped his chin, trailed her tongue along the pin. He shivered, watching her.
She moved down, running her hands across his chest and sides, sliding her tongue over his exposed stomach. One hand strayed down further and stroked the leather around his thighs. He hissed lightly, one hand gave her a gentle but firm push downwards. She pulled his robe apart, and then looked up at him coyly. She took him in her hands, rubbed with her fingertips, kissed when he began to thicken and grow. He groaned lightly as a few strokes brought him to fullness. A soft suck at the head, her tongue slid down, traced the vein and then lapped the base… he hissed again, arched up to meet her, shivered when she lapped back up to the head, drew her tongue around in wet little circles before sliding it along the slit. As he shivered again she reached down and nabbed his sacks, kneaded them lightly, grinned. It appeared that she was not the only one who had been wanting; he groaned above her, looked down with hazy confusion. She pressed them upwards and scratched teasingly.

Topec bucked with a horse cry, his breaths came faster. A tremor ran across his powerful thighs. Angelique shuddered, her eyes closed as her mouth descended, sucking on the soft globes while stroking steadily upon his length. His eyes shut, his head tossed back, she felt him pressed into her hand. Angelique whimpered, rubbed herself against the mattress for friction, but there was little to be found. Achingly she rubbed against his ankle, her fingers tightened around him, stroked hard and quick. His eyes fluttered, one hand slid onto her shoulder and pulled her up.

She looked at him, somewhat dazed. Her eyes had deepened with lust and her bosom heaved enticingly. “My lord… what is it? What’s wrong?” he rumbled, his eyes as dark as hers, one hand slipped over her breast where it lay beneath the leather, fondled it. Angelique gasped and sighed, pushed her chest closer for his attentions. His agile fingers slipped along the valley between her breasts, as his other hand crept down to her waist, fingers stroked gently. They dug in slightly, making her winch and look down.

“…Angelique… move your…” she complied instantly, grabbing her skirt and pulling it up to bunch around her thighs. His hand slid along her lips, rubbed at her folds. He drew in a breath, shocked at how wet she was. Her dusky eyes seemed to glow in the shadows as she moaned, spread her legs further to give him more room.

“Topec… I need you… there, right there, I’ve been so patient--oh!” his fingers slid in again, rubbed about and scissored. She moaned and watched his face, savored his obvious arousal, gasped when his thumb flicked casually over her nub. He rubbed there, watched her writher on his fingers, her eyes shut now, her chest heaving. She hardly noticed when he pushed her onto her back, or when his hand left her breast, She was aching a sweet ache, and it was getting sharper the faster his fingers thrust into her. She groaned his name, soft and low, wanting more… his fingers curled inside her, rubbed, her eyes shot open as she cried out. She was close… so close… “To…Topec…”

Without warning they pulled out. She sobbed helplessly; thrust up to find them again. Strong hands held her down, something much sweeter brushed against her weeping slit. He stayed there for a moment, panting, watching her, at least as wild as she. Submissively her head went back, giving him her throat if he wanted it, bared herself to his manhood.
She screeched as he thrust in hard, buried himself to the hilt with almost a growl. His hips moved instantly, brutally fast, deep and deep and deeper still, pressing himself into her core. She quaked, wrapped her legs around his waist and thrust back down on him, felt his sacks hit her ass as he bucked harder. He groaned as the pressure built, panted against her throat as his hips moved almost helplessly into her. A shiver shook her; she arched into him with a cry. Her muscles clenched deliciously around him, forcing a shot of pree from his sacks into her slick channel. Friction increased, and her wail maddened his need. They gasped and panted, grunted, grinding themselves together. She reached down to rub herself as he moved, and as her pleasure mounted her channel clenched wildly around him, milked him.

Head tossed back he shouted, thrust and held himself deep inside. She came with a quiver and a hiss as she felt him shoot his load into her, hot, thick strings against her raw passage. She continued to rock her hips against his, drawing his orgasm out. He thrust a few more tired strokes, his legs trembled… they gave out at last and he fell upon her with a sigh.
The smell of sex was pungent in the air; their mixed fluids leaked out around his softening length and dripped onto the sheets. She smiled contently, sighed as he slid them so that they lay on their sides, his chest pressed to hers. His breaths came deeper; his eye lids drooped as sleep began to cloud them. He began to pull out but her hand pressed against his back, bidding him still. He blinked, but was truly too tired to care. Leviathan claimed his thoughts.

Angelique watched him sleep, felt the rise and fall of his chest against hers. Wonderfully tired and muscled lax she followed him.


Author’s note: …me’thinketh Dreamer might get jealous…