A trickle of dark virgin blood painted Lyra's inner thighs.
Adam groaned into her mouth; deep, dark satisfaction in his eyes as he looked into Lyra's livid gaze, into her turbulent silver pool.
He began to move, a steady, yet powerful, rhythm that shoved him deeper and deeper into her intoxicatingly tight hole.
Each thrust was a conquest, and with each conquest, something miraculous happened.
A surge of pure, potent energy flooded into him from her very core: the unleashed power of her intact primordial yin.
It was a cold fire that raced through his veins, mingling and intensifying the intense pleasure of the act he was already relishing in: amplifying it into something transcendent.
It was a nourishment of the soul, a fuel for his devilish power and foundation.
For Lyra, it was agony, it was a violation.
This was the ultimate defilement, a perverse mockery of the vengeance that had initially forged her, of what had transformed her into a devil.
Yet!
Beneath the sharp, tearing pain, a subtle warmth began to build.
A potent 'tickling' sensation sparked with each of his thrusts. A feeling of fullness that was as odd as it was comforting; like a painful inner-massage.
It was an involuntary biological response that fought against her mind's revulsion.
She hated it.
She hated him, she hated the faint, gathering pleasure that felt like a betrayal of her very self, and she hated her own weakness that allowed her to be caught.
Hate!
A fuel to repel the growing warmth and tingling sensation; her own body struggling violently under Adam's. His own grip tightening on her, leaving deep bruises, as he held her down.
A hint of annoyance rose within him as he couldn't enjoy himself to the fullest, but he still had one trick up his sleeve!
For Lyra, everything suddenly got worse.
As his body violated hers, her mind struggling desperately to deny the building sensations of pleasure within her, his mind suddenly invaded her soul!
He forced his consciousness into hers, a psychic rape that acted in tandem with the physical act.
Adam grunted as blood seeped out of his shut eyes, but he didn't stop.
Lyra shuddered violently beneath him, a raw screech tearing from her soul avatar as her entire being was laid bare.
A devil's mind was a fortress, but Adam, fueled by her yin energy and his own terrifying will, braved the mental storm.
It was a clash of dark waves and fiery torrents; infernos and darkness, like paints splashing against one another.
Scenes flashed before his eyes, seared into his consciousness as he bore through the pain.
He saw the raging flames that swallowed her home, bathed in the flames, in the memories and pain that belonged to her.
He saw the fear in her eyes as she hid, the burning agony of her mortal death. He felt the depth of her humiliation, her powerlessness, the shame that had festered beyond a lifetime.
He saw it all, every secret, every vulnerability, every shattered dream; every aspect of the young and beautiful elf's life get turned upside down.
Or course, the act was a double sided sword.
Lyra quivered as she plunged into darkness, coldness embracing her.
Adam's simple life was laid bare, and so was his deeply hidden rage.
But she didn't care.
Tears, thick and crimson like blood, welled in Lyra's silver eyes and traced hot paths down her temples into her hair; though not out of sadness, but because of the act of having her mental domain forcibly invaded.
'He was violating everything!' Lyra struggled even harder under his faltering weight.
Her body, her past, her mind. There was no corner of her being he did not claim, no part of her no longer untouched.
"Why would you do such a thing!!!" Lyra shrieked.
There was hidden rules among hell's hierarchy, and usually devils would show a very base level respect to one another. At least invading another's mind was frowned upon.
But Adam didn't answer, his body struggling to take the recoil from attacking her mind, with his body barely holding the elf deviless down. He expression was momentarily dazed; but from the backlash, or from something else…
Did devils know love?
Ancient beings had failed to answer this.
For Adam, the question was irrelevant.
At that moment, what Adam felt was a consuming, possessive craze.
He craved her body, her soul, her pain, her power, her very essence. Не wanted to own every part of her, to fuse her being with his own.
Her love, hate, desires, and revenge; it was a deep, crazy desire.
Strength and fervor returned to him in tides.
He pinned her wrists above her head and started pistoning into her with a frantic, possessiveness. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, his lips against her long, beautiful ear; his voice hot, ragged, whispering.
"Be mine," He growled, each word a thrust, "Join me… become one with me."
"W-what?" Lyra was confused.
Unfortunately for her, before she could make sense of his words, Adam's control shattered.
With a roar that shook the stones of the chamber, he climaxed.
A thick, violent stream of his essence shot deep into her womb: a scalding flood of possessive desire that seemed to mark her from the inside out.
The sensation, so foreign and overwhelming, triggered an unconscious cataclysm within Lyra's body; betraying her true thoughts. It was a natural response from her new nature and physiology as a devil.
"Nggghhhaaaa~"
Her back arched off the furs, a silent scream on her lips as her own orgasm was ripped from her; a convulsing, unwilling response to the intense, violating fullness.
It was a feeling she never knew existed, a peak of pleasure woven inextricably with the depths of her humiliation. It was something that she had not taken into account.
She collapsed beneath him, spent, broken, and undeniably changed.
The room fell silent, save for their ragged breaths. The room was thick with the scent of sweat, blood, and sex.
Adam pulled back slightly, looking down at the devastation he had wrought.
Lyra lay beneath him, her silver hair a mess on the dark furs, her body glistening with a fine sheen of perspiration. Her chest rose and fell in ragged, exhausted breaths. The elegant lines of her throat, the delicate curve of her jaw, the way the faint tracery of shadows beneath her flawless light brown skin seemed to have dimmed; she was beauty incarnate, shattered and bent to his will, to his desire.
Seeing her like this, conquered and utterly spent, only made him want her more.
The hunger was a bottomless pit within him.
He bent down, his mouth finding the elegant column of her neck. His tongue traced the frantic pulse there before his teeth sank in, not enough to break the skin, but enough to leave a deep make and get a groan from Lyra.
As he did, he felt his cock, still buried deep within her warm, pulsating depths, begin to swell and harden once again, stretching her sensitive walls, readying for another round; his hand already grabbing her ass to grip her better.
It was then that Lyra, summoning a reservoir of strength from the very depths of her hatred and pride, and partially in denial, acted.
Her head snapped up.
"Squushhh!"
Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a swift and silent, vicious attack. She buried her fangs into the junction of his neck and shoulder, biting down with a force that tore through skin and muscle, drawing a stream of dark blood.
Adam grunted, a shock of pain jolting through him, but he didn't pull away, he didn't strike her.
"Hmm~"
Instead, a low, dark laugh rumbled in his chest. He ignored the bite entirely, as if it were a lover's nip.
His hips began to move again, a slow, deliberate piston that drove his renewed, massive length into her force.
Lyra's thoughts were a maelstrom.
'I hate you… I'll Kill you... Destroy~ I'll… ki-k~mhmm'
But the thoughts began to fracture, breaking apart under the relentless, physical onslaught.
The pain of his invasion began to transform, blurring with the shocking, unwanted sparks of pleasure that his size and rhythm forced from her exhausted body.
Her jaw ached, her mouth filled with the taste of his blood, the will to maintain the bite began to fail.
"Mnggg~"
Eventually, a low, broken moan was torn from her throat, and her mouth went slack, releasing its hold on his collar.
Feeling her surrender and stop that small act of defiance, Adam sat up, his hands gripping her hips tightly.
In one powerful motion, he raised their positions, pulling her up so she was straddling him, impaled on his cock. His hands groped her ass, kneading the firm flesh as he began to lift her up and down, controlling her every movement, using her body for his pleasure.
The tightness of her walls seemingly trying to suck every last drop out of him.
Her body limp and exhausted, her head slack to one side, but her droopy gaze locked onto his; hatred, disgust, shame, and something more.
A haze of something brewed within those silver pools of hers…