Vess trembled.
The camp was quiet. The adventurers had settled into their bedrolls. The fire had died to embers. The ruins around them cast long shadows under a moon that was beginning to dip below the treeline. Inside the command tent—the largest of the makeshift camp, barely big enough for three people to lie down—the small lamp flickered on a wooden crate. The flame cast a warm, unsteady light across the canvas walls.
Vess was seated on the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets laid flat on the ground. Her pants were around her thighs. Her white panties were visible. Her hand was on Raven’s shoulder. Her fingers dug into the muscle. Her face was flushed. Her mouth was open. Her eyes were wide and streaming.
Raven had just finished writing the letter.
The ink was still wet. The seal was pressed. The name—’’VESS’’—was signed at the bottom in a hand that was not hers. A hand that had been guided by the man whose fingers were now between her legs. The letter was addressed to the Crown Prince. It was already sealed. It was already done.
"What are you doing?" she gasped.
His fingers had found her clit again. Over the panty. Through the cotton. The pinch was precise. His thumb and forefinger closed around the swollen nub through the fabric and rolled. The sensation shot through her lower belly like a lightning bolt.
"You already know," he said. His voice was calm. Warm. The voice of a man discussing the weather while his fingers destroyed a woman’s composure. "I told you. I would not come after your sister. Not again. Not unless she asks."
His eyes moved to the far side of the bed.
Lena was there.
The younger sister lay on her side, naked, curled into a ball. Her dress was bunched beneath her as a makeshift pillow. Her hair was loose. Her skin was pale in the dim light. The bite marks on her tits were dark against the white. Her pussy was hidden between her pressed thighs, but the swell of her ass was visible. She was asleep. Deeply. The sleep of a girl who had been fucked into unconsciousness by a demon.
Vess looked at her sister. Then at Raven. Then at his hand between her own legs.
"In exchange," Raven continued, "you make a contract with me. I told you what I am. A sex demon. You swallowed my seed. You tasted my power. You know it is real."
She trembled harder.
"You are lying," she whispered. "You are not a demon. You are just a man with— with a cock that won’t break—"
"I am a demon," he said simply. "And demons need to feed. I feed from women. I take their energy through sex. Through their pussies. Their mouths. Their wombs. Every time I cum inside a woman, I grow stronger. Every time a woman cums on my cock, I feed."
His finger pressed harder against her clit. The cotton of her panty was already damp. The fabric clung to the swollen mound beneath. He could feel the heat. The pulse. The traitorous response of a body that had been abandoned for twenty years.
"You have already felt it," he said. "The sensitivity. The wetness. You came just from my fingers. A pinch on your clit and you gushed like a virgin. That is my power. My seed is inside you. In your throat. In your stomach. It is already working. It is awakening what those nobles put to sleep."
She shook her head.
"No— no, I— I don’t need— I don’t want—"
"Your sister," he said. His voice was soft. Devastating. "Lena. She is eighteen. She is fresh. She is delicious. I could fuck her every night. I could breed her. I could turn her into my personal cum-dump. She would love it. She already loves me. She chose me over you."
Vess’s eyes flashed. The anger surged. The fury that had sustained her for twenty years. "Don’t you touch her—"
"Then make the contract." His voice hardened. One degree. Just enough. "Sacrifice yourself. Give me your body. Let me feed from you. And I will leave her alone. I will not touch her. I will not fuck her. I will not breed her. She will be safe."
"You are lying," Vess whispered. But her voice was weak. Her body was weaker. The pinch on her clit sent another jolt through her. Her hips bucked forward. Her hand tightened on his shoulder.
"I never lie," he said. "I am a demon. We make deals. Contracts. Binding. If you agree, I will not touch Lena. If you refuse—" He looked toward the sleeping girl. His eyes lingered on the curve of her ass. On the bite marks on her tits. "I will fuck her again tonight. Tomorrow. Every night. Until she is mine completely."
Vess’s breath stopped.
Her mind was a war. The commander in her screamed to fight. To bite. To kill. But the woman—the broken, abandoned, twenty-years-dry woman—felt her pussy clench at his words. Felt the wetness spread. Felt the heat build. Her body was betraying her. Her mind was fracturing. And her sister was sleeping three feet away.
"Fine," she whispered. "Fine. I will— I will make your contract. But you will not touch her."
"Done," he said.
He moved.
He pushed forward. His body pressed against hers. She fell backward. The blankets caught her. Her back hit the makeshift bed. Her pants were still around her thighs. Her panties were visible. Her hand went to his chest. Her eyes went wide.
"Wait—" she gasped. "Wait, what are you—"
She turned her head.
Lena was right there. Three feet away. Naked. Sleeping. Her small body curled into a ball. Her breathing was soft. Regular.
"She will see," Vess whispered. "She will—"
"She is asleep," Raven said. He positioned himself behind Vess. The spoon posture. His chest against her back. His cock—hard again, always hard, endlessly hard—pressed against her ass. His hand went to her hip. His fingers hooked into the waistband of her panties.
He pulled.
The cotton slid down. Not off. Just aside. He tucked the fabric into the crease of her thigh. Her pussy was exposed. The hair was thick—dark, coarse, untrimmed. Twenty years of growth. The lips were hidden beneath the curls. They were dark. Full. The kind of pussy that had been used once, brutally, and then sealed shut by trauma and time.
"What are you doing?" Vess whispered again. Her voice was barely audible. Her body was trembling so hard that the blankets shifted beneath her.
"I am entering," he said.
"Wait— wait— wait—" She tried to pull forward. His hand on her hip held her. "Why so fast? You said— you said contract— you did not say—"
"I am a sex demon," he said. His voice was patient. Almost gentle. "The contract is made through sex. I enter you. I feed. That is the deal."
He positioned the head of his cock.
The blunt, swollen crown pressed against her hairy mound. He did not push. Not yet. He rubbed. The head slid between the curls. It found the outer lips. It pressed against the seam. The heat was immediate. The wetness was already there—soaking the hair, making the curls glisten.
Vess’s tongue came out.
Her eyes rolled. Her mouth opened. The sensation of a cock against her pussy for the first time in twenty years was overwhelming. Her body remembered. Her muscles remembered. The trauma. The pain. The four fat men. The cucumber. The bath. The doggy position. All of it. Her body remembered and it responded with both terror and a horrible, traitorous hunger.
She cried.
The tears came silently. They ran down her temple into the blanket. She pressed her hand over her mouth. The sound of her breathing was ragged. She looked at her sister.
Lena had flinched.
The younger girl’s eyes had moved beneath her lids. She was not fully asleep. The sound of movement. The shift of blankets. The ragged breathing. Something was reaching her.
"Huh—" Lena murmured. Her voice was thick with sleep. "What is—"
"Shut up," Vess snapped.
Her voice was the commander’s voice. Hard. Firm. The voice that had ordered troops and disciplined soldiers and slapped her sister across the face. It came out automatically. The instinct to protect. To hide. To keep the younger girl from knowing.
Lena flinched again.
"What?" the younger girl whispered. "What is happening? What am I doing here?"