Sugar, Secrets and Upheaval

“What’s that?”

“I am trying to apologize properly.”

“Yeah? I'm curious about what can be ‘proper’ after the shit you pulled.”

He opened the plain wooden box on the bed. Inside, lay a black leather collar adorned with a silver chain. Levi picked it up, his pale fingers brushing against a faceted sapphire. “Gods, why did they embed a jewel in this? Whatever. I do not wish to imagine,” he muttered.

“What the fuck? Are you going to put a collar on me now?” I yelled.

“Will you calm yourself for a second?” he asked, his voice flat. “Why would I put a collar on you right after I said I would apologize? A very idiotic tactical retreat it would be, no.”

He brought the black leather collar to his own neck and fastened it around himself. He stepped closer, placing the heavy silver chain into my open hand.

“Wait, hold on… You want me to dominate in this scenario?”

“Why not? Before we commence, as you are very well aware, I possess zero limitations. You can carve your name upon my skin, or compel me to traverse this mansion entirely naked on all fours. The choice is entirely yours. The box holds other tools and paraphernalia for your selection,” he added, his hand gesturing towards the box.

The thought of bringing him to his knees, of making him experience a fraction of the fear and humiliation he inflicted… is a poison.

“I… I need to think. So you’re going to be the submissive, and I’ll have full control over your body,” I whispered, a perverse heat stirring low in my belly as I stared at the collar around his neck.

“Still a visual learner, are you?”

He brought himself to his knees on the floor directly in front of the bed, his eyes fixed on mine.

"And this is your lesson in atonement? Performing a submissive role for my benefit?"

"I presume I have to push you to take the role, do I not?" He shifted forward, resting his chin on my thigh.

“Get off,” I snarled.

He did not comply. He rubbed his chin all the way across my thigh, until the tip of his nose rested directly above my crotch.

"Is this a game, Levi? Or a genuine offer to explore this... dynamic?" I asked, curiosity warring.

“You know I am experimental.” As he spoke, he kept rubbing the tip of his nose against my crotch. His head tilted back slightly, and his face held a distinct smirk as he met my apprehensive gaze. “Still dangling on the edge of a choice?”

"And what happens if I pull that chain, Levi? What then? Will you still be smirking?"

“Try it,” he said with that persistent amusement. This time his teeth grazed over my crotch, eliciting a sharp gasp from my lips.

“Then let's play. Back away from my leg."

He pulled his head off my thigh. A shiver ran down my spine. Is he really… going to do anything I say?

Oh. I am feeling it.

“Don’t call me ‘Pulla’. And… take your clothes off,” I said. Ugh. What was that weird pause?

“What do you wish me to call you?” he said with a hint of curiosity. As he spoke, his fingers went to the buttons of his white shirt.

"You'll call me what I tell you to. And right now, I'm telling you to strip," I said, my voice firming.

He gave me a smug smile, clearly enjoying my defiance to give him a specific name. He kept being unhurried, only unbuttoning one button at a time, briefly revealing the sharp line of his collarbone. Teasing bastard.

I yanked the silver chain. It was a sharp tug that pulled the collar taut around his neck. With that movement, I saw a distinct glint enter his eyes — a flicker of dark pleasure. He was enjoying every second.

“Stop teasing,” I commanded, my voice sharper.

He unbuttoned his shirt completely and eased it off his body. He remained on his knees for a moment, before his fingers went to the button of his trousers. Unhurried, he unfastened it, lowering the zipper. He pushed the dark fabric down, over his hips, his muscular thighs, and finally past his knees, letting them pool around his ankles. He then pushed them away with a bare foot, standing up in one unhurried motion.

“Awaiting your next order.”

He stood before me, completely naked save for the collar. But… What do I order him? Gods…

"Bring that basket to me."

He tapped the silver chain hanging from his collar. The gesture was clear, indicating the chain was too short for him to walk all the way to the table positioned next to the door. Fuck. I fumbled at the first command.

A surge of frustration coursed through me. I released my grip on the chain. In his naked glory, Levi gracefully walked to the table, and brought the woven basket back to the foot of the bed.

“Place the basket on the bed, and take my pants off,” I commanded. He fluidly placed the basket on the edge of the bed, right next to me. He leaned in, his slender fingers going to my belt buckle. He was… slow. Asshole was teasing again.

I took the silver chain back into my hand and yanked it. “Faster,” I growled. He glanced at my face, his smugness plastered on his features, but he complied. He eased my pants and underwear off.

Okay… What’s next?

Something… he doesn’t always do. Something we usually skip…

I shimmied myself off the center of the ridiculously big bed, shifting to the side, and pulled the chain. He crawled over, not over me entirely, but just enough to get onto the bed. Gods, how could he read my mind like that? How can he not try to push me? I was expecting him to already act like a rabid dog, instead, he was being docile.

I placed my hand on his head and lowered him between my thighs. He did not resist, but he did not do anything either, remaining perfectly still.

“Use your tongue,” I whispered. Way to go, Raphael, completely vague command. Lick where?

Levi, the bloodhound for my emotional distress, sensed my embarrassment. He placed his elbows on either side of my thighs, bracing himself. His head tilted, and then, with the flat of his tongue, he gave a deliberate lick to my entrance.

He began to trace the sensitive rim with the tip of his tongue, a soft, teasing swirl. Each pass sent a fresh wave of heat through me, making my hips press down, seeking more. He didn't press in, didn't deepen the contact.

"Stop playing games," I said, my voice rough, the command punctuated by a hard yank.

Levi responded with immediate obedience. He began to work his tongue in circles, each rotation sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through me, making my hips buck. He pressed harder, the tip of his tongue now nudging, seeking deeper access, then dipped inside. I arched into him, my breath catching in my throat.

Suddenly, his tempo changed. He withdrew slightly, then his lips closed around me, a hot, suctioning pull that dragged another ragged gasp from my throat. His teeth scraped gently, followed by a deeper, more encompassing plunge of his tongue. He began to suck, hard and steady, alternating with swift, deep thrusts that made my vision swim.

My body was singing, screaming, a symphony of need. I could feel the heat spreading through me, pooling low in my belly. My nails tore at the sheets, my legs trembled, and I was utterly lost in the sensations.

"Not just your tongue, Levi. Use your fingers," I demanded, thrashing my head back into the pillows.

Gods, this is something else. I feel like a puddle.

Levi lifted his chest from the crawling position, his body shifting fluidly as he reached for the basket. "There is not any water-based lube here."

Of course, there isn't. He's letting me flounder again, letting me feel the weight of my inexperience in this dynamic.

"Find a suitable oil and use it."

Obviously, this calculating bastard wouldn't let go of it.

“Hm…” he hummed, irritatingly. He pulled out the small glass vials from the basket and showcased them one by one. “Coconut, avocado, hemp seed, grape seed,” he counted, his finger tapping each vial.

Every tap of his finger is a jab.

"Stop trying to get a rise out of me. Pick the best one and use it," I said, my voice strained.

“Any color preferences?” he mused, carrying that smug tone. Bastard.

"Don't. Push. It. Choose," I snarled, my patience wearing thin.

“Ah, I am currently deciding between olfactory preferences.” He paused, his eyes now narrowed slightly, if he were genuinely contemplating the scents.

"I'll choose for you. Grab the first one you touched and put your fingers in me."

Gods. I am very… nice to him. I am not even punishing him for his very obvious disobedience when he said I could carve my initials on him. I mean, I would never do that, but still.

“Coconut then.” He opened the vial, a faint pop filling the silence, and took a generous amount of the dense oil onto his fingers. He crawled right above my legs, positioning himself. He placed his middle finger and ring finger onto my entrance, simply rubbing the warm, fragrant oil into my skin, not pushing, maintaining that tease.

Each motion of his fingers pulled a frustrated moan from my throat. My hips began to buck, seeking more, seeking the penetration. He was clearly enjoying the way I writhed under his touch.

With a soft press, his middle finger slid past my entrance. I gasped, my body tensing, then immediately relaxing around him, molding itself to his first intrusion. He let me adjust, before slowly the second finger followed, filling me with a deep, aching pressure. He remained still.

"Move them, Levi. Don't just sit there," I panted, my voice strained. "Work them in. Now."

“Are you certain that is your preference? Some find static pressure more… educational.” His voice was a subtle mockery in its calm articulation. He pressed the pads of his fingers a fraction deeper, exactly the opposite of what I'd asked.

"Gods, you're impossible!" I snarled, my hips grinding against his hand. "Stop trying to teach me and move your fingers. Faster!"

He gave a slow nod. Instead of moving his fingers in, he began to rotate them, twisting them. "As you command," he murmured, watching my face contort with the pleasure and frustration.

"You're not moving them! I said faster!" I screamed, my hips bucking wildly, trying to force his hand to obey.

"You observe the rotation and expansion. My fingers are moving. Your command was for 'faster,' not a specific trajectory," he responded, his tone utterly unmoved. The smirk on his lips widened.

That was it.

My control snapped. With a guttural roar, I yanked the silver chain with all my might, a violent tug that forced his head down.

"I don't care about your goddamn definitions, Levi! Move them as I told you to, or I'll break your fucking neck!"

Levi's body tensed. His head remained pulled down by the chain, and a guttural chuckle rumbled in his chest. The smirk on his lips stretched into a wide grin, and his eyes were blazing with a perverse delight. His fingers ceased their rotation and, with a brutal force that left me gasping, began to pump.

"Ah, there it is," he murmured, his voice now deeper, rougher, filled with a dark satisfaction that made my skin prickle. "Such exquisite language. Is this the 'trajectory' you prefer?" Each word was punctuated by a driving thrust of his fingers, slamming into my flesh, forcing a cry from my throat.

My vision blurred, the bedchamber fading into a haze of white-hot sensation. I could feel the friction building, the heat swirling, a desperate need for release coiling tighter and tighter in my core.

"Call me Master, Levi," I choked out, my voice ragged, punctuated by a desperate pull on the silver chain still clutched in my hand, forcing his head further down.

His thrusts didn't falter; if anything, they intensified. "As you command, Master."

His fingers worked me with an unyielding force, slamming into my spot, making my vision swim. I was crying out, incoherent pleas and demands mixing with desperate moans.

A roar tore from my throat as my body convulsed around his fingers, squeezing him tight. My vision exploded into a blinding white, my muscles locked as the waves of pleasure consumed me. My legs trembled, and with a choked sob, I collapsed back onto the silk, my body wrung out and, limp.

The chain clutched in my hand felt heavy, cold, and irrelevant.

Gods, this devil. Fucking Devil incarnate. He calls me Master; there is a collar around his neck, but he is the one in control of everything.

How can being submissive be a form of dominance? How?

As I battled with the thoughts of my very... bad attempt at dominance, this Devil, would obviously not stop. The second act of his submission came. He waited until this very second, the moment I felt briefly in power.

He slowly crawled over my body, his naked form eclipsing mine, casting me in his shadow. "Master," he purred, his eyes crinkling at the corners with undisguised amusement. "I did as you commanded," he added, his weight settling heavily on me.

I could see the horns and tail growing out of him.

"You did what you were ordered to, what? Do you want a pat on the head?" I shot back, my voice laced with a bitter mix of exhaustion and frustration.

"Oh?" he drawled. "I am happy with what you deem sufficient, Master.”

He’s mocking me, openly.

What am I doing wrong, exactly? Something feels… off.

"Stop acting like a brat, Levi," I snapped. What is the thing that I'm not grasping? Oh… I'm not ordering him to anything I truly like.

Actually, I enjoy him pushing me, or being insistent, or demanding. Complete obedience from him would not be as stimulating. I like him acting a little like… a dog.

“You want to please your Master? Then act like the dog you are,” I said, my voice thick. Gods. Vague as fuck. Levi is going to use that loophole for sure.

Levi lowered his crotch onto mine, pressing his growing erection against my thighs.

“I said act like a dog, not a rutting boar,” I managed, despite the pressure I secretly loved. “Beg for your release,” I commanded, giving the silver chain a gentle yank.

"Please, Master," he murmured, as he pressed his body harder against mine. Oh, Levi, I know your poetic mouth. This is not enough for begging. You gotta try harder.

"I'm not convinced. Show me you actually want it."

"Show how, Master?" Levi purred. "With words, or… actions?"

Gods, I really need to learn how to issue commands. But the problem is, us both. Levi, the schemer, always plots, always finds a loophole to torture me further, while I struggle with finding the right verb. The inexperience creates an unfair dynamic.

"Both. I want to hear your pleas and feel your desperation," I said, my voice firmer now. Still vague, but better, right?

He lowered his chest, his warm breath brushing against my ear, sending shivers down my spine. His lower body kept its insistent rubbing against my thighs and now, my entrance.

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"Every inch of you is designed for pleasure, Master. From your scent to the way you clench around my fingers... truly remarkable."

I know what he's doing! Bastard, he's praising me, he knows my kink. Fuck, I love hearing it. I'm fumbling. But… I want to hear more.

"Your Master demands more. Worship my body with your words," I said, my voice ringing with new authority. Finally, a non-vague command.

"You are utterly breathtaking in your pleasure, Master. A glorious, consuming inferno that I exist only to stoke."

He knew. He absolutely knew what to say, how to say it, to make my blood sing.

"Then stoke it," I commanded, "Tell me what else you see, Levi. What else about this body makes you burn?"

Levi's smirk deepened, a shadow of unholy pleasure. He lowered his head, his warm breath ghosting over my inner thigh.

"It is the very architecture of your desire, Master," he murmured. "The way your skin blooms under my gaze, the tremor that precedes your gasp, the sacred curve of your hip yielding to my weight. Every line, every hidden hollow, is a verse I long to read with my touch. You are a symphony of sensation, a living, breathing landscape of exquisite vulnerabilities I yearn to explore. Truly, a masterpiece of exquisite design, meant to be unraveled by my hands, devoured by my mouth, claimed by my will." His hand began to trace the line of my outer thigh.

"So, Master. Now that your architecture has been so thoroughly admired... what next shall this humble instrument of your desire claim?"

He's anything but humble. He's a ravenous predator, and I'm caught in his snare. He's still the one pulling the strings, even as he asks for direction. And… I don't care. I want to tell him to take whatever he wants, however he wants it. I want to surrender, completely.

A ragged breath tore from my lungs. The chain was a useless trinket.

"Take it, Levi. Take whatever you want."

A triumphant smile spread across Levi's face, cold and beautiful. His eyes deepened to a black abyss. "As you command, Master." His knee pushed between my thighs, forcing them wider. His mouth, hot and wet, found my inner thigh.

He worked his way higher. Each lick, each gentle suck, was a torment, driving me further into a frenzy of need. My breath hitched in my throat as his mouth closed over my cock, a wet glove that drew a sharp gasp from my lips. My body arched, desperate to press deeper into his mouth, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He alternated between ravishing gulps and light licks that drove me wild. My vision swam, and I was consumed by the pleasure, spiraling higher and higher.

He withdrew his mouth just enough to murmur against my skin, "And what else would Master have me claim?" His eyes, flickered to my awaiting entrance, then back to my face. He held himself perfectly still to formulate a coherent thought, knowing full well I was beyond thought.

My hips twitched. "Fuck me. And... worship me while you do it."

Levi's eyes widened fractionally. His thighs parted mine further, and he lowered himself. I gasped as the first press of his head nudged my eager entrance. He didn't thrust, he simply settled, easing himself in.

"You are a sanctuary of sensation, Master," he murmured, as he slid deeper. "A sacred passage I am privileged to traverse." He took me completely, leaving me breathless, gasping and clutching at the sheets. My body convulsed around him, molding itself to his every inch. With each thrust, he began his litany, a guttural outpouring of reverence. "Your breath catches like a startled bird, a melody of pure arousal. You receive me like parched earth drinks the rain, a desperate, beautiful surrender."

His hands moved to my hips, cupping them firmly, lifting me to meet his every thrust, grinding me down. I cried out, my nails digging into the silk sheets.

The bed creaked under our weight, like the distant thunder. His gaze, fixed on my face, devoured every flicker of pleasure, every spasm of my muscles. He pressed one of his hands against my hip, driving me down harder.

"You are a living temple, Master," he breathed, his voice strained. "And I am but a humble devotee, offering myself upon your altar."

My body bucked wildly, on the very edge, and he met me there, his own grunts of exertion joining my ragged cries.

He remained buried deep within me, his head falling to my shoulder, breath hot against my damp skin. My muscles twitched, still clenching around him, my legs too weak to do anything but remain splayed around his hips.

Slowly, Levi stirred, pulling himself partially out of me with a wet sound that sent a fresh wave of shivers down my spine. He moved just enough to press his forehead to mine.

"Was that... sufficient, Master?" he murmured, his voice filled with a dark amusement. His thumb began to trace circles on my hip.

“Gods… How can you… still be in charge, while twitching inside?” I gasped, my voice barely a thread. “You are really… the Devil.”

“Master,” he whispered against my ear. “We both are sufficiently aware, the Devil himself would grovel at my feet to be my intern.”

“You gotta… find new phrases for the depths of your arrogance, Levi, you already used those words on me before.”

“Is that a command, Master?” he purred back.

“No. It’s a reminder that you’re predictable,” I said, a jab intended to bruise his gigantic ego. Who am I kidding? He'd probably chuckle like a kid in a candy store.

He did. "Predictable, Master?" he echoed. "Perhaps. But also undeniably effective, wouldn't you say?" His thumb pressed harder into my hip.

"Don't gloat, Levi. It's unbecoming of a good dog," I said, giving a gentle pull to the chain.

“Amusingly interesting, Master, I must confess,” he purred. Without warning, he plunged himself deep inside me, stealing the breath clean out of my lungs. “You are still… undecided,” he breathed against my ear, “whether you want a dog that would please you, or a devil that would devour you.”

He's the one who forces me to be both. He plays the submissive dog, just enough to lure me in, then he devours me.

"I'm not undecided. You're just a greedy bastard."

“I certainly am greedy.” He pushed himself deeper, to the point a loud moan tore from my throat. “I want to feel this exquisite sensation, over and over again, Master.”

"Then earn it."

“As you wish, Master.”

In one fluid motion, he slid himself out fully. A fresh wave of shivers racked my body as his release dribbled warmly down my inner thigh. What? My confusion lasted only a heartbeat. He was out of bed, moving with impossible speed, and then my ankles were caught in his firm grip. With a decisive yank, he pulled me to him, dragging me across the sheets. His powerful hands were under my shoulders, lifting me from the bed, dangling me in the air. My legs wrapped around his waist, finding purchase against his hips.

Yeah, his favorite position.

He walked us swiftly to the panoramic windows overlooking the stormy woods, the glass cold against my naked back, eliciting a sharp gasp.

Through the blurring streaks of water, the swaying trees of the woods beyond seemed to writhe, just as my body now writhed against Levi's. Each thrust sent a jarring impact through my spine. He lifted me slightly, settling me back onto his cock with a groan, then plunged again, demanding everything my body had to offer. My cries were lost against the glass, swallowed by the roar of the wind and the beat of thunder.

Oh.

This feeling… of being used as a vessel. That is what I want. That is why I enjoy him acting like a dog. Him being affectionate is great, yes, but the other part is the animalistic force that makes me forget anything. I don’t need to make decisions or issue commands. He takes whatever he wants, however he wants. That is what I like. To see him unravel, lost in pleasure, just like I am. To be the one that pleasures him. Check latest chapters at n0velfire.net

My climax coiled anew, tightening with every plunge. His eyes were unfocused, glazed with a hunger that matched my own. His grip on my hips tightened to bruising, and I felt him shudder in a consuming tremor.

He filled me, a pulsing torrent that made my knees buckle, pressing me harder against the window as he buried his face in the crook of my neck, panting. I clung to him, reveling in the glorious weight of him.

He was no longer the calculated schemer; he was simply lost in the need. And in that, I found my own triumph.

Slowly, the tremors in Levi’s body subsided.

He began to stir, his head lifting from my shoulder. The dark gleam in his eyes was still there, but overlaid with a peaceful satisfaction. He didn't speak, simply studied my face, his thumb tracing idle path along my jawline.

"Don't look at me like that," I grumbled, feeling a little bit embarrassed by the intensity.

“Hm…” he hummed, and buried his face into my neck, sucking and nibbling the skin, just beneath my ear.

His teeth scraped, enough to elicit a low moan from me. He pulled back slightly, to look at me again, unsettling contentment swirling within his eyes.

"You like that, Master?" he murmured, barely audible above the soft patter of rain. He knew the answer, of course. He always did.

My mind struggled to form a coherent thought. All that came was a ragged sigh.

He smiled then.

He lowered his head to the pulse point at my wrist. His tongue flicked out, and then he drew my skin into his mouth.

"You are truly exquisite in your unraveling, Master," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Every tremor, every sigh, a revelation." He gently eased himself out of me fully this time. The sudden emptiness left a cold ache, but he lowered me onto the bed, laying me back against the pillows.

He pulled the heavy silk sheets up to my waist, tucking them around me. Then, he simply lay there beside me, propped on one elbow, gazing down at me.

He's still the Devil, but now, he's a sated devil, resting beside his prize.

“Gods, you released your poison, and now you are being affectionate, are you?” I asked, a dry chuckle escaping my lips.

“Master, I can still ‘release the poison’ as you put it. I was simply being… considerate.” He snaked his middle finger to my still-sore, sensitive entrance, pushing it gently, eliciting a sharp gasp.

“What is your stamina, Levi? I mean, it was worse when you were… using. After you got clean, at least you were able to finish faster, but… what? Are we going to do it till the storm passes?”

“Would that be so bad, Master?” he asked, his eyes sweeping over my naked and flushed chest.

No. The thought of being here, like this, lost in him until the storm finally breaks outside, until the dawn fully claims the sky... it's appealing.

“Ugh,” I groaned, a sigh escaping my lips, “I really am a rabbit, aren’t I?”

“You forbade me from addressing you as Pulla, so I can neither confirm nor deny that.” He started to move his middle finger inside me, slowly at first, then with increasing depth.

“Now you are being obedient, are you?” I said, a bitter laugh escaping my lips.

“I was very obedient to my Master.”

He is only obedient to his desires, and if those align with mine, it's merely a convenient coincidence.

“What obedience? You were always teasing and dictating the pace you wanted.”

“Master. You were… lenient. I stated that you could make me crawl around this mansion on all fours, stark naked, or make me whimper and scream your name, but you only… pulled the chain once or twice. A pity, don't you think?”

“Why does it have to be so extreme? I don’t gain any pleasure from hurting you,” I said, tinged with genuine confusion and a hint of accusation. “And, yeah… I was very nice.”

“Master,” he whispered against my ear. “I am acutely aware of that. But that was not the point. You see, you are… rather mechanical and impatient when it comes to the desire. Which I thoroughly enjoy,” he said, his tongue flicking out to give my outer ear a slow lick. “I was curious about what you would do if you possessed the power to do anything you want, and maybe show you, you are not as powerless as you think in our relationship in general. However, I might acted too… enthusiastic,” he concluded, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“I think I get your point. You were trying to tell me that I was not your captive… Okay, I see that. But… even though you’re doing things I want, giving me that power over you, is not entirely what I want. This was really fun and nice. I enjoyed it. But it made me realize, I prefer being a little defiant sub than being the dominant who makes all the choices. It’s too much work. I want you to take control. Not because you… you are my captor, or because our relationship has a power asymmetry. But because… I enjoy and want to be lost in the sensation. I love the fact that you are there, making the choices, taking care of me, dictating everything. It is not… torture, it is actually exactly what I want, Levi.”

He chuckled softly. “Ah, this was… delightful. This confession of yours is… rather late for your articulation, but I was indeed aware of your desire to forget all else, Raphael.” He rose to a sitting position upon the bed, the heavy silk covers slowly descending from his abdomen. He removed the collar that had lain tangled between us.

“Aside from that consideration,” he continued, his eyes fixed upon my countenance, “I desired to demonstrate the profound nature of my attachment, and the extent of my willingness to act on your behalf. When I present you with rather grand gestures, you frequently dismiss them, under the erroneous impression that I would not, in fact, execute them. Consider, for instance, my offer of the throne prior to the monarchy’s abolition, or my proposal to relocate the Royal Palace. Truly, Raphael, such endeavors are nothing more than exercises in logistics and administrative decree. When I articulate my intent to cause this pale blue sphere to succumb to a glorious inferno, I concede the statement possesses a certain dramatic flair, yet I assure you, my intention is entirely literal. I concluded this recent engagement would serve as a tangible method to finally illustrate that there exists simply no undertaking I would not perform for your benefit. This includes, to be precise, martyrdom.”

He knows me better than I know myself. He even predicted my exact words. This is the terrifying Levi: the calm, calculating one, who just articulated something so possessive it chills me to the bone.

“Martyrdom, Levi? Is that what you call this? You think I desire your self-destruction, or the obliteration of everything, to feel your attachment? I dismissed your other offers because they felt hollow, performative. This… this was anything but.” I said, rubbing my face with a trembling hand. A profound weariness settled over me, mingling with the lingering echoes of sensation. “You…” I groaned, the sound raw and exasperated. “Why do you always have to be so utterly dramatic?”

My eyes found his. “Remember, on our anniversary, you made me an origami flower bouquet? It was an even bigger gift than a palace for me. Because it meant that you spent your hours creating something only for me. Not for the flashiness of it, or the power of it… You did it, because you knew I would like it. Rein in your villainy, Levi. Don’t burn the world for me, or build a palace for me. I don’t want it. I… want to be with you… Not because you are a person who would move mountains – I mean, you also bequeathed me the mountain range of Ascaria. Not because you would move mountains for me, but because you are… you. And you are a big piece of shit, who hunted nobles one by one, and possibly got hard because of it. But I love you. And… I still would, even if you did not offer those ridiculously over-the-top gestures.”

“Your declaration of affection, though prefaced with numerous… candid assessments of my person, is duly noted, Raphael,” he said, his gaze now shifting to the green-painted walls of his bedchamber. “My objective in offering those grand gestures was not to exhibit dramatics for their own sake; it was to prove that there is simply nothing you cannot achieve, acquire, or gain, should you desire to do so. Because I am quite convinced that you do indeed deserve it. And your perceiving the less than conventional aspects of my nature and still accepting them… this is a rather perplexing, and from my detached perspective, completely illogical phenomenon. A person such as yourself, possessing a formidable moral compass, one who perceives actions with stark clarity, a person with endless empathy… are you not precisely the individual who is supposed to remain at a considerable distance from me?”

“Gods,” I breathed out, the word a soft exhalation of disbelief and something akin to awe. “Well, thank you for saying I deserve the world; that was… considerate of you. It’s called love, Levi. It happens. And, I know it doesn’t happen to you the same way it happens to me. But we can’t pick and choose who we love. And, yes, you are the embodiment of morally gray… No… you are completely amoral, actually. That is kinda the thing, you know? You are not exactly immoral. You are… amoral. And it is more terrifying than immorality, because you can call an immoral person ‘bad’ and forget about them, but… You are unforgettable. That is what you are. You are singular, you exist in your own right, without being bound to anything, any law, any logic, any code. You have your own. It makes you… compelling. It makes me think beyond my own understanding. My life, my morality, my understanding of actions changed so much after I met you.”

My gaze swept over him, still seated beside me, his lean form subtly illuminated by the faint dawn light filtering through the window. “Aside from all of this… You are very attractive, and your effortless authority, your graceful movements, your choice of clothing, and even your cologne, I find every single one of them attractive. I mean, I feel like a toddler compared to you sometimes, but I learned it the hard way. None should compare themselves to you. It is just… dumb. It just gives you existential dread. And lastly. I love you, so much.”

“I confess, Raphael, that your final statement, when combined with your preceding comprehensive analysis of my nature, presents a… challenging conclusion for my current understanding,” Levi said, his voice calm. “To be perceived as both ‘amoral’ and yet the recipient of such profound ‘love’ from an individual of your defined moral parameters is a logical incongruity. However, I ascertain that this does not diminish the validity of your stated sentiments.”

He paused, a warmth entering his blue eyes. “My objective remains consistent: to respond to your desires. And your desire, it appears, is to continue being with me.”

"Yes, it is. I want to be with you. Satisfied?" I challenged.

“I… think so.”

Levi.

Uncertain.

"You sound… confused. Is my affection truly such a conundrum for you?"

“It is partly due to the fact that you may not want me with the same… what is the right word here? Conviction?” His eyes searched my face for an answer he couldn't compute on his own. “It is the fact that my ‘feelings’ are not entirely reciprocated.”

“I mean… I don’t think I would burn the world for you, but… Maybe, which is a big maybe, I will offer you a hot chocolate while you plan it,” I said, a wry smile touching my lips.

He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound. “Is that so? Is that a promise, or soothing words for my wounded pride, Raphael?”

I suppose, in a way, it's both. A tiny peace offering in the face of his terrifying devotion.

“Consider it a promise for the future, Levi. One you can hold me to.”

“Ah,” he mused. “Then I am glad.”

He slowly crawled over my body from where he had been sitting until he was hovering above me.

Gods. Did he get horny because I promised him a future?

“W-Weren’t you the one… who was supposed to take a little longer to get aroused?” I stammered, my voice betraying my sudden breathlessness. “Why is it… looking at me like that?” I gestured weakly to it, which stood bold and unashamed between us.

“Your recent declaration of affection, Raphael, coupled with your explicit statement of desire to remain with me, served as a most potent catalyst.” He allowed his erection to brush against my thigh. “It appears my physiological responses are indeed susceptible to such profound affirmations.”

“Don’t pretend it’s purely physiological, Levi. Even you can’t fully dissect the complexity of this. Just admit it was my confession that got you,” I said.

“Did I not admit that?” He brushed his throbbing erection against my entrance, which had now been thoroughly used twice over.

“Not you, but it did, I guess,” I said, pointing at it. “Also, Levi, you insatiable man, there is no way my body can take more of your fervor pace.”

“Yes, it is a tad swollen,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to my body. “Do you wish to take a warm bath?”

The Devil offers a bath, and the rabbit, worn out and aching, might just accept.

“Yeah, it would be really nice,” I said, the words a soft sigh of relief.

Levi moved towards a nearby chaise, where a dark silk robe lay draped, and slipped it on.

Oh. I forgot where we are. This wasn't going to be a simple bath drawn by him.

“Levi… Are people going to… you know, massage me or something?”

“If you wish so,” he responded, his voice even, as he adjusted the robe around his frame.

“I don’t want other people to look at my body”

“The bathtub is of considerable dimension, and it will be filled with bubbles and soap, dear,” he said. “I do not conceive that they will discern your private areas.”

My mind was already conjuring images of servants, their averted gazes, the acknowledgment that I've just been thoroughly ravaged. It’s not about seeing, it's about knowing.

“No, I don’t want other people, at all,” I said, my voice firm.

“Hm…” he mused. “We can visit the ‘bath’ if you wish so, instead of my washroom,” he articulated, his eyes observing my reaction.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Raphael,” he chuckled softly. “This mansion has existed for centuries; there is anything in here your mind can conjure. It is a private bath. I will order some wine and appropriate pairings for your relaxation. The heat and steam would certainly alleviate your current discomfort and aches.”

"A private bath sounds… intriguing," I admitted, a slight hesitation in my voice. "But, is it… far? We're in the west wing, aren't we?"

He gave a slight smile. "The Sudatorium is located in the south wing, a short but pleasant journey. There is no need for concern regarding distance. It is designed for utmost privacy and restoration."

So we're going from one end of this ridiculously vast mansion to the other.

“Gods… I cannot walk there.”

“I can carry you if you wish so.”

“No, no,” I interjected, shaking my head. “You just order servants to prepare that place. I will wear my clothes,” I insisted, pushing myself off the ridiculously large bed. Gods, my backside felt incredibly sticky.