In his dreams, he took her directly in the sand of the arena. When he had subdued her, he tore off her armor, under which she squirmed naked, and pressed her body into the yielding ground.
In his dreams, she pressed herself against him. Arched her back to offer him her breasts. Willingly opened her legs for him.
In his dreams, she moaned lustfully as soon as he sank himself into her. Took him deep inside her, thrusting her hips towards him.
In his dreams, she looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered to her.
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N'Arahn woke up gasping. His bed was rumpled; he had slept very restlessly. These dreams confused him, sapped his strength and yet filled him with energy and intensity. They had started since he had held Veidja in the sunlight. They triggered conflicting sensations, feelings that he could not explain. That were unwelcome.
Haven't you left that part behind? Sex as a tool, if you must, yes. But desire?
The last time he had allowed himself to desire someone had ended badly for him. After that, he had denied himself such feelings, which hadn't been difficult for him. All his will, all his energy had gone into the fight. On the rare occasions when he used his body differently, he had controlled his senses completely. Just a tool, just a currency. No passion.
And now these dreams. Make them come true. Subdue the angel. N'Arahn snorted. No. He wanted to make the angel fall. If he proceeded too roughly, he risked breaking her. Then she would be completely useless and his plan would be ashes and dust. So what? What do you care? Nobody knows your plan. She's yours, use her as you wish. Fulfill your dream. The dream... Was that what he wanted?
Enough! It was the wrong time.
The demonlord wiped his eyes with one hand, as if he could dispel this strange turmoil inside him with it. He really didn't need any confusion today.
Having Tazeel as one guest among many was grueling enough. But if the seducer could focus all his attention on one person... N'Arahn sighed.
His body still vibrated from the intensity of the images that made his sleep so unrestful.
This angel brought more problems than benefits.
The demonlord shook off the sheet. His private quarters were a pleasant size, not too spacious, but certainly not cramped. He had everything he needed, no more and no less. His gaze wandered over the familiar objects: a massive wardrobe, next to it the armor rack. On the other side of the bed was a shelf with his personal library and the accompanying armchair, which was getting a little worn, for more comfortable times. The crystals on the shelf reflected, sometimes dull, sometimes flashing, the light of the lava rivulets which also provided a pleasant temperature. Two doors led out of his bedroom and living room.
There was something reassuring about the fact that nothing had changed here. Otherwise, that was probably it for the boredom he had cursed so recently. N'Arahn laughed quietly to himself.
What sight had she been used to?
Pull yourself together.
N'Arahn stood up and stretched. In a few steps, he had reached the door to his bath, where a pool of well-tempered water was already waiting for him. He slid in, enjoying the gentle caress on his skin.
When he closed his eyes, he could almost believe that he had company. That someone was stroking his back with light fingers, running their fingers along his stomach…
What was wrong with him today?
In one fell swoop, he drew the warmth out of the water so that it bit him with cold. The shock was good, clarifying. Nevertheless, he drew in a sharp breath, then had to laugh at himself. He dived under, rubbed his skin and hair vigorously, then came up again with a jerk. Better.
He needed his concentration today. Tazeel wanted to see the angel fight and be able to influence the battles himself, on a small scale. The seducer also paid a good price for being the first to enjoy this pleasure. N'Arahn had not been able to turn it down. The terms offered had been too good, suspiciously good in fact. But the angel had primarily cost him so far, he had to start reaping the benefits. The festival had been a start in that respect, but the private performances were his real goal. Tazeel would be his first customer. N'Arahn growled in disgust.
The uneasy feeling that something would go wrong today did not leave the lord of the fortress. Not while dressing, not while preparing for the reception.
Tazeel had sent ahead the lesser demons who were to fight for him in the arena so that they could be checked. After all, he was abiding by the contract. Gorf hadn't noticed anything that contradicted the rules while inspecting them. No hidden weapons, no stronger demons than advertised.
It only made N'Arahn more suspicious.
When the seducer arrived, he seemed in high spirits. His floor-length skirt in various shades of orange stood in eye-biting contrast to his green skin, but he let it swing back and forth with every step, as if he wanted to draw special attention to this piece of clothing.
Prancing, he let himself be led to the viewing platform of the arena while he tried to engage N'Arahn in conversation. He gesticulated expansively, twirling his strangely long fingers through the air, repeatedly stroking his bare chest or playing with his half-long, earth-colored hair, which grew curly in a strip from his forehead to the nape of his neck.
The lord of the fortress answered only curtly to direct questions, otherwise making polite noises to keep Tazeel talking without really listening to him. The gossip from the court was perhaps important, but his priority was to look behind the chatter of his guest.
What are you up to?
N'Arahn did not know if he would be able to divine the other demonlord's true intentions in time, and that caused him worry and headaches. But the fact that the seducer didn't just want to see a fighting angel was set in stone.
I'll keep an eye on you.
What he disliked most was one condition of the contract: Tazeel wanted to be able to see the battleangel up close. Without a cage, of course.
"So, when do I get to see the treasure?" Tazeel grinned at him, leaning backwards against the railing of the viewing platform. The arena lights reflected on his bare chest, giving his skin a venomous tone.
N'Arahn nodded, even though he had a bad taste in his mouth. At a curt mental command, Darr stepped through a hidden passageway. He pulled the warrior behind him by a chain that he had wrapped around his hand several times.
Putting the iron cuffs on her, which held her wrists close together, had proved to be a challenge. Originally, he had wanted his captain to do it, but she had resisted so fiercely that the almost-demon would have had to half-kill her. That, in turn, was not an acceptable condition for the fight she still had ahead of her.
So N'Arahn had taken away her freedom of movement, bound her will and reinforced the chains with his seal.
She would not forget it, he could read that clearly in her eyes, whose hate-filled gaze had just met his. They were only that yellow when she was really angry. A strange pain spread through the demonlord's rib area.
"Excellent!" Tazeel clapped his hands and strutted around the battleangel, visibly thrilled. N'Arahn could feel rather than hear the low rumble Veidja emitted.
The seducer sucked the air loudly through his teeth. "What a tomboy." He winked at the warmonger. "But I'm sure that's just the way you like it."
N'Arahn stiffened for a moment. The hungry look his guest cast at the angel did not escape him. From one moment to the next, he had to wrestle with his fighting instinct. His field of vision narrowed, his body tensed to leap. The railing he had involuntarily grabbed deformed with a crunch under his grip.
The sound brought the demonlord to his senses. He quickly released his hand from the metal and took a step closer to Tazeel.
The latter still seemed enraptured by the sight before him and was intently scanning the visibly disgusted battleangel with all his senses. N'Arahn furtively rubbed the metallic dust from his hand. Lucky me.
When the seducer raised his hand to touch Veidja, N'Arahn stepped between them.
"That's enough."
The warmonger couldn't tell if his counterpart's disappointment was genuine or if he was just playing some kind of game again. Probably both.
"She needs to prepare herself."
"Ah. What a shame." Tazeel put on his wide, somehow unpleasant grin again. "Well, I'll still have plenty of opportunity to look at her."
N'Arahn didn't let it show, but an icy cold tug had settled in his spine. He waved Darr away and offered the green-skinned demon a seat right by the railing.
Veidja would be safer in the arena than up here.
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