The wind was a cold, harsh enemy, whipping Daniela's dark green hair around her face, the once tight curls snapping straight with the sheer velocity of the fall. Her eyes remained locked on the precipice above, fixed on the figure standing silhouetted against the stormy sky. A silent defiance burned in their emerald depths; she did not scream, did not even think to close her eyes, even as the brutal wind seemed to scrub the moisture from them. A deafening, frothing roar of the waves beneath screamed into her ears—the final, thunderous call of the abyss. Her stomach lurched, a sickening, weightless drop that stole her breath. The air rushed past her like a physical blow, plastering her clothes against her skin. She felt the icy chill of the ocean spray rising to meet her, the bitter promise of stone and water. She was falling, an emerald blur against the black sky, her focus unwavering on the motionless figure far above.
Standing at the very edge of the cliff, Jasper looked down, his gaze piercing the blackness to find Daniela. He saw the challenging, serious look in her eyes; she neither screamed nor blinked.
Then, with a savage snarl that was instantly swallowed by the wind, he launched himself off the cliff face. His body accelerated twice as fast as hers, his sheer mass propelling him downwards faster than her own fatal plummet. With a sound like rending silk and tearing muscle, two immense, obsidian wings of shadow burst from his back. They were vast, skeletal, and so profoundly dark they seemed to devour any stray light, momentarily eclipsing the castle from Daniela's view as he descended. Thick, ribbed, night-black horns tore through his scalp, growing long and curving to frame his head like a terrifying crown. His sharp, angular face took on a feral edge, the whites of his eyes vanished to pure, terrifying black, and his teeth lengthened to needle-sharp points—the swift, terrifying perfection of a nightmare creature made real.
Even with his monstrous transformation, Daniela's stare did not waver. Jasper slammed into her, his powerful arms snaking around her, the sudden, bruising impact jolting the remaining air from her lungs. He held her tight to his chest as their eyes met again: black and green, a swirling vortex of challenge and potential.
Jasper expected her to recoil, to scream in fear, for the carefully constructed veneer she wore like a second skin to finally crack. Instead, she gave him a challenging look that screamed You don't own me. And you certainly cannot control me.
This mix of character was intoxicating, a complexity he had never encountered. She was becoming addictive.
He crushed his lips onto hers.
Their tongues battled in a powerful, brutal kiss, his hold on her absolute, the dizzying fall now merely a secondary tremor beneath their conflict. This was not a kiss of affection; it was raw, hungry, vicious, and primal. It was a savage contest for dominance. His teeth scraped sharply against her lower lip, and she responded instantly, biting back with enough force to draw the bright, coppery taste of his blood onto her tongue. The metallic tang was instantly intoxicating. This was lust, sex, and blood—the three anchors binding them in this moment, a violent, desperate plummet toward an alliance forged in challenge and cemented in blood.
The frothing waves and sharp, black rocks below grew closer. Jasper did not care. He didn't care if they plunged into the freezing water or if the icy depths sucked them under. All he could focus on was the feel of her crushed against him, their mouths devouring each other in a hot, wet kiss he would not break for something as simple as water and stone.
Daniela felt the icy touch of the ocean, the first searing shock of cold, just before they both plunged beneath the surface. Jasper's vast, shadowy wings folded protectively around them, the edges of the membranes hissing as they touched the solid rock. Anything they made contact with—rock, coral, even small, startled fishes—instantly dissolved into a fine, black dust, completely annihilated by the shadow-wings' deadly energy.
But even his demonic energy did nothing against the biting cold or the crushing pressure of the deep water. As his mouth devoured hers, the battle became one of lust versus survival. As a demon, he was likely fine, but for her, a frail human, susceptible to the cold and the abyss, she felt as if she was going to shatter.
Reaching between them, she dug her fingernails into his cheeks, a painful, sudden jolt, forcing his blackened eyes to open and focus. With her other hand, she pointed sharply upwards, silently demanding he bring her to the surface.
Their lips were still fiercely connected, their eyes still locked. Yet, she felt his lips curl into a wolfish grin against her own. He held her closer, their bodies still sinking toward the lightless depths.
Jasper was amused that someone who so readily launched herself off a cliff was not prepared to hit the water, to feel its icy sting, or to know the sensation of drowning. As their eyes remained connected, he noticed how the rim of her green irises seemed to hum with power. The immense hunger coiling inside his chest unfurled, desperate for more.
He wasn't simply feeling this immense hunger because he had kissed a complicated princess. He was feeding on her power. His body could taste it, his demon could revel in it. It was driving him mad with primal need.
Daniela had the distinct impression he was not nearly as eager to reach the surface as she was. With their lips still clamped together, she rolled her eyes. Her free hand, the one not digging painfully into his cheeks, slid down his abdomen until her small palm circled his length through his soaked trousers. The look in her eyes was a clear threat: would it be as pleasant to have her nails digging into his manhood as it was his cheeks? Because she would rip it off if he didn't bring her up.
She watched as his eyebrows arched, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. But he obeyed. With one powerful, earth-shaking pump of his wings, they shot toward the surface, cresting the ocean in a spray of white foam to break free into the open air.
Daniela gasped, pulling her lips away from his, sucking in ragged, life-saving breaths as they hovered just above the churning surface.
"Are you so stupid! I can't breathe underwater," she growled, her fingers digging that much deeper into his cheeks, watching as his bright red blood began to stain her fingernails.
As if her attack was a mild annoyance, he leaned closer, pecking her lips lightly. "Then why would you jump off a cliff into water?" he asked, his voice low and laced with suppressed chuckle that she felt vibrating against her chest.
"Next time, let me drown then. I didn't want to be fondled in my death." She couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the moment washing over her. They were utterly ridiculous—two psychotic people who lived for challenge. His laughter soon joined hers, a low, guttural sound. She released his cheeks, watching as his skin instantly knitted itself back together, the five raw nail marks disappearing in record time.
Wrapping her arms around his neck, she held on tightly, betting he would drop her, considering her recent words. It was a calculated risk.
His nostrils flared, and his head tilted back. A low, powerful groan rumbled in his chest, his lips parting just enough to show his sharpened, animalistic teeth.
Looking behind her, Jasper spotted the stone stairs leading down into the water—an area where the castle's boat was often docked. He let his wings carry them over to the slick tiles. The moment their feet touched the wet stone, he lifted her off the ground. His extended nails tore open the lower half of her dress, the soaked fabric ripping with a harsh sound, forcing her legs to wrap tightly around his waist as he expertly made his way to the top of the stairs. He then pressed her body against the wet, cold concrete floor, a low area constantly lapped by the tide.
"What are you doing?" Her chest heaved with rapid breaths as his hands pressed her thighs open, his body sitting between them. He rested his weight on his forearms, hovering just above her face, his hips jerking once. Only then did she realize she still had his length firmly grasped in her hand.
"keep going!."
Daniela released her grip, pulling her hand from his slick, hard mass. "Why would I let you inside of me?" She had nothing. She wasn't his Queen, he hadn't agreed to help her. He wanted everything but refused to give anything.
"Daniela!" he hissed, his all-black eyes narrowing on her in a flash of pure agitation.
She wasn't scared. Not of him. Not even in his true demon form. With her legs still locked around his waist, she pulled him tighter against her, until she could feel his growing length beneath his pants press hard against her center. A low groan of satisfaction drifted from his lips into her ears. Her own body shivered at the sensation. They were both completely drenched, their clothing clinging like a second skin, and she felt every demanding inch of his mass against her apex.
His lips crashed down on hers, his touch a powerful, demanding force. Their tongues battled for dominance again. His hands gripped her waist, and he rubbed himself against her harder. It wasn't enough. He wanted her bare. He wanted to feel her skin against his, to simply shove himself inside of her.
Breaking the kiss, his lips trailed down her throat as his hands gripped her neck painfully tight, holding her still as he sought his pleasure.
Daniela's hips rolled against his, her nails digging into his chest through the wet fabric. She watched as his massive wings created a vast shadow, shielding them from the moonless night sky.
With a sudden, considerable effort, she rolled them over until he was on his back. The moment his spine hit the concrete, his wings vanished, bursting into clouds of black smoke as if they were nothing more than vapor in the air. Her hands pressed to his chest as her hips ground down against his.
She needed to prove a point, not lose herself in the moment. But it was difficult to balance her demands against the rising, slick heat between her thighs.
Leaning down, she bit his earlobe. His arms, which had been spread wide, instantly gripped her waist, a low sound of pain and pleasure slipping through his lips. Her hot breath slithered into his ear as she spoke in a low, sultry, demanding voice.
"I want to feel you. To have your cock shoved down my throat." Her words had his once-closed eyes snapping open. She was speaking directly to the predator in him. She grinned, a sultry promise curving her lips as they trailed over his sharp jaw. "I want to tear your skin open and lick your blood from every inch of you. To have you mark my skin with your teeth." His breath still held in his chest as he watched her, her eyes meeting his. "If I was your queen."
Stopping her movements, she rolled off of him. Her dress was wet and cumbersome, and her bare legs were completely exposed where he had shredded the hem. She sat on her wet bottom next to his prone form, her knees drawn up and her legs spread in a way that left her glistening pussy clearly visible to him.
Jasper felt like his head was spinning. He lay on his side, his head turned to face her. She sat on her plump ass. He could smell her—her arousal, her scent was all over him, thick in the air. He could see her coated panties, the fabric bunching to one side, exposing a slick, pink entry to his waiting eyes. He wanted to crawl between her legs, to lick at her entrance, to feel every inch of her. His horns itched and tingled. Everything on his body felt acutely sensitive. He was barely himself in this true demon form. It was hunger, lust, and blood. And she had ticked every single fucking box.
"I want an alliance! An unbreakable one!"
Author's note:
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