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Breaking into the House of Hope and robbing archdevil Raphael had gone from an alluring thought to what sounded like a good idea a little too quickly. Looking back, given that Astarion and I had always been a terrible influence on each other, what happened next seems almost unavoidable. Natural, even.
Only natural for us to sneak out of camp while the others slept, the silence between us so tense with expectation it felt almost erotic. Only natural for us to pick the locks of The Devil’s Fee, hands shaking with excitement, perform the ritual to open a gate to hell, our hearts beating fast, and then, after filling our packs with all the invaluable items we could find in the gorgeous marble halls of the House of Hope – and about 666 pieces of gold – absolutely botching our stealth game and getting caught redhanded. All the while the hells smoldered outside the great arched windows.
Only natural for us to end up under a particularly powerful holding spell in what Korrilla had called the house’s boudoir – whatever that meant – awaiting the master of the house.
Standing stiff next to each other, completely robbed – ironically – of the control over our bodies, we saw before us a room so lavishly furnished it put the salons of Sharess’ Caress to shame. Marble pillars shone, a fire roared in an adorned fireplace, carpets with intricate patterns lined the stone floors, and in the center of it all was a great, round pool of crystal clear water, veiled by sheer, white curtains. Velvet pillows and rose petals laid scattered along the pool’s edge. The air was heavy with steam and rich perfume.
I heard Astarion let out a sigh.
”Brilliant plan, Tav”, he said. ”This time you’ve really outdone yourself.”
”I’m pretty sure it wasn’t my plan”, I shot back. I tried to turn my head, but the spell held my spine fixed, like a steel rod through my body. ”And if it was, you definitely approved.”
”Well, you performed the ritual.”
”You picked the locks.”
Astarion scoffed. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him roll his eyes, pale lashes fluttering. A flash of red. But I heard his breath quiver, same as mine. We were in profound trouble. I felt my battle axe weigh helplessly on my back, and I saw Astarion’s finger twitch next to the dagger sheathed at his hip. All my spells were spent, and when I turned my thoughts inwards to search for a glimmer of my contact with The Emperor I found only a ringing silence. We were alone here.
That was when I heard movement in the room. The rustle of silky fabrics. Soft steps, naked feet on the stone floor. And a shadow gliding by on the other side of the pool’s flimsy curtains. Something growing, great wings unfolding. A horned silhouette.
I heard Astarion's breath hiss through his teeth. A barely audible: ”Fuck”.
Along the edge of the pool came a great, red devil, sculpted like a god. My stomach dropped, thinking Raphael had been in the room the whole time, before realization jolted through my body: no, it wasn’t Raphael. This creature wore the same great crown of curving, black horns that the archdevil had let us glimpse before, they had the same fiery red skin, the same wings folded behind their back, the tail slithering around their legs. But even though this somewhat younger-, somewhat smoother-looking devil was almost the spitting image of Raphael they looked … skimpier.
The strange devil was dressed only in black leather and chain harnesses strapped to their hard, muscular body, covering little more than their crotch. They stretched their wings out and shuddered, like a cat waking from a nap, and ran their claws through their dark curls.
”I know what you’re thinking”, said the devil, letting their glowing ember eyes glide up and down our bodies. ”’Oh no, it’s Raphael, he’s going to skin us and hang us from hooks!’”
The devil chuckled, and when I shot Astarion a look our eyes met.
”Lucky for you”, they continued. ”You’re wrong. I am Haarlep, Raphael’s personal incubus and, consequently, the occupant of this boudoir.”
Ah. That kind of boudoir.
The demon made an introductory little gesture towards themselves and took half a bow. I noticed glowing symbols carved into the leather of their harness, inscriptions in a language I couldn’t read. It looked like Infernal.
Astarion scoffed.
”Ah, of course. The devil would only want to fuck himself, wouldn’t he.”
The demon strolled over to us, and as their fiery gaze met mine, for only a moment, I felt sweat break out over my body in a shiver.
”With some exceptions”, said Haarlep, before looking away again, a white fang glistening between their lips.
They stepped up to Astarion, for a moment seeming to compare their heights, looking quite delighted by finding they were taller. A muscle twitched in the corner of Astarion’s mouth.
”So”, the demon said, slipping their fingers under Astarion’s on the handle of his dagger. ”How are we to entertain ourselves while the master is away?”
Slowly, the steal singing, they pulled the golden blade from its sheath and lifted it to the side of the vampire’s neck. The dagger’s glistening tip, sharp as a needle, traced the dark vein beneath the skin there, goosebumps rising behind it. Its whisper lonely in the tense silence.
”Funny”, said Astarion, and out of the corner of my eye I saw him moisten his lips. ”I’m usually not on the receiving end of these transactions.”
And Haarlep raised the tip of the dagger under his chin, lifting it slightly.
”Do you like it?” they asked.
Another flash of red. I saw Astarion’s gaze travel passed the blade and down the demon’s chiseled body. And up again. Slowly, as if making up his mind.
”I don’t hate it”, he said.
I rolled my eyes.
”Good”, said Haarlep, and when I looked back they caught my gaze in theirs, holding it tightly. ”Then this will be much more pleasurable for everyone.”
And with another metallic zing they threw the dagger over their shoulder, the blade propelling through the air and landing in the pool behind them.
I heard Astarion make a helpless little sound through clenched teeth. And Haarlep stepped around him to pull the shortsword from his back, the golden blade of First Blood soon shining on the bottom of the pool. They continued methodically, stripping us both of our weapons and disposing of them, finally lifting the axe off my back. As they stood behind me I felt their hot breath against the back of my neck. The sound of soft laughter. The axe made a great splash as it hit the water.
I realized Astarion was staring at me passed his temple, his eyes narrowing accusatorially, and I shot the same look right back at him.
”That will do, Haarlep.”
A booming voice. The stinging smell of fire, the rich scent of smoke. Velvet. An expensive cologne. Fuck. Haarlep stepped back, a soft smile lingering on their lips.
A jolt of fear. My entire body stiffened, making every torn muscle from the past days’ battles ache, and I felt Astarion’s do the same beside me. A wave of heat crashed against us, as a great presence rose behind my back, its shadow falling over me, stretching out across the floor. The many twisted horns. The wings, like a dragon’s, unfolding, rising. Haarlep did a great job impersonating their master’s looks. But Raphael was much bigger.
I could feel my heart beat in my throat, a drop of sweat running down my spine, as I saw the shadow lean down behind me, and the movement of scorching lips graced the back of my ear.
”Weak souls are easily lead astray, little mouse”, Raphael whispered, smooth and low, like a caress. ”But even for the two of you. This was weak.”
Then the heatwave passed, like a shiver. A gust of wind made the curtains around the pool swirl and the shadow behind me transformed. And when Raphael stepped around us to stand next to his demon body double, he looked almost like a mortal man. An aristocrat in velvet and lace, the look on his face that of a disappointed parent.
”When the cat is away the mice sure do play”, he said, and looked from me to Astarion, a disapproving crease by his hawk’s nose. ”But it’s time now for the claw to come down.”
Haarlep’s eyes widened, their smile looking almost like a stifled giggle.
”There will be no talking your way out of this”, continued the devil, pointing one of his fingers, heavy with rings, at Astarion. ”Are you not the charmer of your little group? Hm, Astarion?”
Astarion said nothing. Which said a lot. He simply sneered, baring his sharp teeth, and the devil and his demon laughed. An echo of the same voice, gliding in and out of itself.
”You call this a fair fight?” I said, suddenly shot through with anger. ”I knew you were a liar, Raphael, but a coward? I -”
”No, no, little mouse, you misunderstand”, he interrupted, gesturing with his hands as if an answer hung in the air around us. ”This is neither the time for talking nor fighting. Left now is only judgment.” He became serious, eyes darkening. ”And punishment.”
A different sensation. Another streak of fear, dissolving into something hot and liquid. Unnamable, and reluctant, but very close to curiosity. A quivering interest. And then, like a sigh, the holding spell let go. Control over our muscles returned with a jolt, and I heard Astarion take a breath, as if he had forgotten to breathe.
And standing there without weapons, without spells to cast, was immensely more awkward than being held fast by magic. The helplessness immensely greater. I closed my fists, blood boiling, while Raphael, taking his time, walked over to a small table where he filled a golden chalice with wine from an expensive looking bottle.
”There”, said Raphael, taking the bottle in one hand and lifting the chalice to his lips with the other, returning to us. ”I’m not prone to doing my own dirty work. Now, go ahead.”
I turned to look at Astarion. Caught a glimpse of the door behind us in the corner of my eye. No, fleeing would be useless. We were, ultimately, in his house.
”Go ahead with what?” Astarion said finally, flinging his slender hands into an exasperated gesture.
Haarlep smiled, and there was something almost tender in Raphael’s eyes for a moment, looking at Astarion like he was looking at a child. Or a sweet, dumb animal. Then he creased his forehead again, and made a tired gesture towards us.
”Undress”, he said. Pronouncing every letter in the word.
I heard Astarion’s mouth shut. That sensation again, I felt it run across my skin, and almost simultaneously as i raised my hand to unclasp my armor I saw Astarion lift his fingers to unbutton his shirt. Without looking at each other, but aware of each other’s movements, we started to undress. Giving in now, to Raphael, when all other hope was lost, came as natural as everything else had that night. Natural, sacrificing our consent to him. As if it had been the plan all along.
Straps whipped out of their buckles, armor fell clanging to the floor. Soon, the whisper of fabrics slipping off skin. Raphael watched us coldly, seeming to take notice of our every movement, of every new body part being exposed. All the while the fires in Haarlep’s eyes seemed to burn brighter.
Undressing in the room was like sliding into a hot bath. I shivered again. Yes, from fear. Yes, out of pleasure.
Turning my head only slightly I looked at Astarion. His perfect profile, his body, alabaster skin on sculpted muscles. The glow from the hells shining in through the windows and bouncing off his silver hair. I could see his chest rising and sinking, quickly, with the same excitement I felt. We were both, as we had already established, fools.
And we had been in each other’s company before, but seeing him like this was new. Not only naked, but exposed. Shoulders slanting, eyes flickering. Awaiting further instructions. Submissive. The very thought quickened a pulse between my thighs. And a small, squirming jealousy. He never looked at me like that.
Finally, I stepped out of my boots and unto the warm stone. And silence tensed again. Raphael looked at me from below heavy eyelids, while drinking slowly out of his chalice. His gaze dropped to my breasts. Dropped again, to my crotch, to my feet. Another wave of sweat broke out, all over me. And he turned to look at Haarlep – the human and the demonic form of the same man, eye to eye – and some silent communication seemed to pass between them. Raphael put his empty chalice in Haarlep’s hand, as if handing it to the server at an inn.
”Astarion”, he said, and I saw Astarion’s pointy ears stiffen, silver eyebrows shooting up his forehead. ”Have you ever tasted incubus blood?”
And I could almost see the pulse beating at the side of Astarion’s throat then, as he put a hand on his hip, throwing the other up into some gesture of feigned nonchalance. Him being stark naked did nothing for this charade of confidence.
”You know, I’ve never had the pleasure”, he said. The tip of his tongue shooting out again to wet his lips, as if he couldn’t mask his hunger. Or his lust.
Haarlep stepped up to him, reaching out their hand to slip it under Astarion’s again, offering him their upturned palm. Interlacing their long, black claws with his fingers.
And with a single glance back at me, red eyes mirroring the mixture of suspicion and expectation certainly visible in my face, Astarion closed his hand in theirs.
”You won’t hate it”, said Haarlep. Then they turned their winged back to Astarion to pull him along behind them, as they walked back around the pool together. The two of them becoming shadows behind the flimsy curtains.
Raphael watched them disappear. Then he looked at me, unsmiling. A slight crease between his dark eyebrows. And a final coherent thought rolled trough my head: Gods, help me.
”You”, he said. Voice low enough to be a growl. And he came closer, the heels of his boots clicking against the floor. ”I’ve had such high hopes for you.”
And I said nothing. I had already surrendered. I simply breathed heavily, trying to ready myself for what was to come, as Raphael cupped a hand over the side of my throat, just below my ear. A burning touch, somehow making the rest of my body feel even more naked. He stroked my cheek with his thumb, a polished nail gracing the skin.
The suggestion of a smile then, in the corner of his mouth.
”I still do”, he said, and just as I thought I heard Astarion’s voice from the other end of the room, a gasp, a moan, Raphael’s hand reached up the back of my head and closed its fingers in my hair. Instant pain, like needles over my scalp. He tilted my head back to meet his gaze, and said: ”Now, come.”
And with the wine bottle still in one of his hands, and his other fist closed in my hair, he lead me before him through the room. For every step another shiver of pain ran through my body to gather in the heat pounding between my thighs. Pleasure and pain intermingling, the way they always did for me. The way I knew they did for Astarion.
We passed along the edge of the pool – weapons twinkling at the bottom –, passed the crackling fireplace, under great paintings on the wall depicting the archdevil in different victorious poses, his horns, again, like a crown. All the burning eyes followed us. Reminding me that the well dressed man behind me was not Raphael’s true form.
And we passed behind the flowing curtains, where a great bed stood against a wall. And on the edge of the other side of the bed, his bare back to us, sat Astarion. His body heaving with heavy breaths, the muscles of his back rippling under the skin, making the pearly white scar tissue of the sigil carved there glisten. He leaned back on his arms, curling his fingers in shiny silk sheets, and from where I stood behind him I saw Haarlep’s wings spread out on each side of him. They kneeled on the marble floor between Astarion’s feet, their horned head moving up and down from Astarion’s crotch, their long fingers wrapped around his hips.
I gasped before I could stop myself. I felt the sight of them together in my entire body, the wetness that was already gathering between my thighs threatening to spill over. And I heard Raphael sigh behind me, as he put down the wine bottle on a nightstand.
”Haarlep”, he said. ”This is not a reward.”
And Haarlep laughed softly, their voice muffled, before lifting their head. I heard Astarion groan.
”But I like it”, said Haarlep, full lips shining. Then they rose, towering over Astarion before pushing him back on the bed, again taking his hips in their hands and flipping him over. The swift movement pushed Astarion’s face into the mattress, muffling his gasp, and Haarlep leaned down to press their lips against the back of his neck.
Astarion lifted his head, again closing his fists in the sheets, and as I stared at him I caught a glimpse of a smile on his lips, sharp teeth half bared: ”Still feels like a reward to me.”
”Astarion, don’t -”, I groaned, but Raphael pulled my head back again, making me shudder, before pushing me closer to the bed, forcing me to lean my knees against it.
”You still don’t understand”, the devil said softly.
And the smile slipped straight out of Astarion’s face as he and Haarlep looked up at Raphael behind me, their gazes rising, and rising, as the presence behind me transformed again. A weight sunk in my chest. I felt the fingers in my hair lengthen and sharpen, claws sending waves of shivers over my scalp. And I heard the rustle of clothes falling to the floor behind my feet. Heat smoldered against my naked back, I felt skin close to my skin, and when I forced my gaze out to the very corner of my eye – my head held firmly in place – I could see one of Raphael’s great, red wings. Then his regal profile, as he leaned in close to my ear.
And he whispered, the hiss of a flame being struck, his voice so full of malice that for a moment my fear trumped my excitement.
”I am going to fuck you so hard and so well, that neither mortal nor immortal will ever satisfy you.”
Then he pushed me so roughly unto the bed that the air was knocked out of my lungs, and I gasped, sliding on the silk sheets as Raphael grabbed my hips and pulled me to him, positioning me over the side of the edge. For a moment I felt him slide in between my thighs, noting the size of him, before he pushed his full length into my wetness, reaching so deep I immediately cried out. And I heard Astarion moan, and Haarlep hum with pleasure.
Raphael only grunted softly as he started to pound into me, his wings making a slow, whooshing sound as they moved through the air above us. The bed swayed beneath me, creaking to the rhythm of Raphael’s hips, and soon a second rhythm fell in beside it, and Astarion’s moans echoed mine. I looked up and saw him bent over the other side of the bed, arching his back and breathing heavily into the sheets as Haarlep fucked him, kissing him down his spine, their wings half enfolding him. Another almost overwhelming wave of pleasure rose in me at the sight of them.
Then Raphael grabbed my hair again, pushing my face into the mattress, hard. And when I saw nothing, and heard nothing but the rustling of sheets and my own stifled moans, all I became was the sensations of my body as the devil fucked me, hard and deep, awakening new pleasures in the depths of me, to mix with the pain, the pleasure, the pain. The pleasure. I felt him swell even more inside me, filling me to the point of bursting, reacher even deeper, and in my head I heard my own voice, perhaps I even cried it into the darkness: yes, yes, yes, but also no, it was too much. I couldn’t take much more.
When I writhed beneath him Raphael wrapped his hands around my arms, pinning them against my back. And I realized I was about to come. I heard Astarion’s voice rise next to mine, and as I looked up at him through my lashes I saw his face contorted with emotion, silver strands of hair stuck to the sweat on his forehead, his lips parted, moaning in time with the sound of Haarlep’s hips slapping against his backside.
Then the world slowed down. The bed stopped swaying and Raphael’s hands softened, his movements inside me – that had whipped up such confused ecstasy – started to slow, teasing me until finally stopping. For a moment he was still, my pleasure pounding around him as I quivered on the edge of orgasm, before he pulled out of me, making me cry out.
I thought he laughed then, or perhaps he scoffed, and I felt his hand closing around one of my ankles before pulling it, flinging me around on my back. The world spun. My face was flushed and sweat glistened all over my body. And finally I saw Raphael tower over me. He was naked, he was huge, glistening with my wetness. His eyes were burning, and apart from the small smile playing at the corner of his mouth his face was still and cold.
I heard Astarion groan loudly from somewhere above me, as he too was denied his orgasm, and Haarlep laughed with sadistic delight.
And still holding one of my ankles firmly in his hand, he reached the other one out to take the bottle of wine from the nightstand. I then watched as he lifted it above me, tipped it over, and poured a blood red trickle of wine over my outstretched body.
I gasped and moaned out load as the cool wine hit my hot naked sex and as it splashed over my stomach and my breasts, my nipples stiffening from another great shiver. As I tried to writhe out of his grip to get away Raphael simply pulled me back to him by the leg. The sweet scent of alcohol exploded in the room, and I felt the sheets dampen under me, the wine already becoming sticky on my skin. And Raphael’s smile widened, his eyebrows rising as he looked up passed me and held out the bottle.
”Come”, he said, like beckoning a dog. ”Taste.”
I was panting and shivering, my almost-orgasm still pulsating in my body, as I felt the mattress move beneath me. I looked to the side to see Astarion come crawling across the sheets, eyes alight with excitement. And he stood on his knees on the bed as Raphael tipped the bottle to his lips, pouring wine into his mouth. A glistening drop of it escaped his lips and trickled down his chin.
”What does it taste like?” said Raphael, smirking. ”Vinegar?”
And Astarion, swallowing and licking his lips, his eyes widening, said:
”No, it tastes …”
And Raphael put the bottle down to take Astarion’s chin in his hand, his claws curving around his jaw, pulling his face close.
”Delicious”, Astarion breathed, before letting Raphael close his mouth over his lips.
They kissed, deeply, wetly, all the while Raphael held unto my ankle, as if I would try to escape. And suddenly such jealousy twisted inside my chest that I almost whined out load. But before I got my chance a sound came from Astarion from within the kiss that very much resembled a whine. And another thick, red drop trickled out of the corner of his mouth. His body twitched, Raphael’s grip hardened, and I saw their tongues move between their mouths as the scent of vampire blood soared out into the room. From somewhere I heard Haarlep sigh.
When Raphael finally broke the kiss his teeth were shining red with blood and Astarion gasped for air as if he had been drowning.
”Yes, delicious”, said Raphael. ”I should have you on tap.”
And Astarion laughed softly, breathlessly, and licked his lips clean of his own blood.
”Gods, I love it here”, he said, but when Raphael scoffed the sound made him jump.
”Get back on the bed, vampling”, said Raphael, already turning back to me, sucking his teeth. ”I’ll finish you later.”
Astarion’s gaze met mine then, as he reached out to take both the wine bottle and a chalice from the nightstand, and his eyes shone with such feral lust that the pleasure still pounding in me quickened. Then he crawled back out of my line of sight, and Raphael pulled me to him again.
He looked down at me, sprawled out before him and covered in sticky wine, and tutted.
”I haven’t forgotten about you, little thief”, he said, lifting my naked foot and leaning down to breathe hotly into its arch. ”You should be so lucky.”
His scorching breath made me twitch, trying and failing to pull my foot out of his grip. He leaned in further, wings stretching out behind him, and reached his tongue out to lick along the inside of my calf.
I gasped and cried out as a small, blue flame fluttered across my skin behind Raphael’s tongue. He laughed, from deep within his throat, and kept running the tip of his sizzling tongue up the inside of my leg, my thigh, making me writhe in his grip. Finally, he was on his knees by the side of the bed, both of my ankles cuffed by his hands, and he spread my legs, locking eyes with me passed my wine soaked body.
”I told you there is no need for fighting”, he said, tightening his grips. ”You are way beyond salvation.”
I breathed in deep, and Raphael lowered his face, his horns casting evil shadows across my body. And his tongue, burning hotter than I ever could have prepared for, reached my sex, and slipped into me.
I threw my head back and cried out as his lips closed over me and his tongue started to pull such torturous pleasure out of me that I thought I would catch fire from within. My hands ripped into the sheets, clutching fistfuls of wine soaked silk and pulling at it. I whipped my head from side to side, mad with pleasure as Raphael’s smoldering mouth sucked and licked my aching sex, his devilish tongue swelling inside me, slipping out to tease my clit before pushing into me again. And when I looked to the side, my hair half covering my face and sticking to my wet lips, I saw Astarion laid back against the pillows, sipping his wine and staring at me passed the edge of his chalice, hunger and lust burning equally bright in his eyes. Harleep sat beside him, their wings folded, clawed hand resting on Astarion’s naked thigh. Their eyes, as well, fixed on me.
I tried desperately to pull my legs free from Raphael’s hands, my body acting instinctively, for I was also desperate for this to never, ever end. I was writhing in the fires of a pleasure I had never felt before, and once I finally started to come beneath his slithering tongue I kept coming, in waves, my voice rising higher, the orgasm going on as if it wouldn’t end before I lost my mind. He only licked me faster, and harder, and it was excruciating. It was diabolical. It was absolutely fucking fantastic.
Once the orgasm started to ring out, fading into a low, smoldering pulse, and the licking slowed and slowed, I felt my mind start to clear. The room returned around me and my wet sex started to cool as Raphael pulled away. My entire body ached, goosebumps traveled across my skin and I gasped for air, completely drained. And as Raphael rose between my knees to tower over me, his fingers leaving already bluing marks around my limp ankles, I realized that deep within the emptiness that the orgasms had left in me a new longing had already started to grow. I still wanted more. I would always want more, and I also realized, as I saw a malicious smile spread across Raphael’s face, that he knew it as well as I did.
I heard Haarlep laugh then, and felt them slip their hands under my arms to pull me across the bed and unto their lap.
”Fragile little mortal”, they laughed, brushing the hair out of my face with their claws.
Raphael scoffed, licking my wetness from his lips. Still sucking Astarion’s blood off his teeth. And, finally, the archdevil got on the bed. His eyes fixed on the vampire lounging against the velvet pillows. And as if that vampire too was just a fragile little mortal, Raphael grabbed his ankle and pulled him off the pillows and across the sheets.
Wine spilled out of the chalice in Astarion’s hand, and once it was within reach Raphael smacked it out of his grip with the back of his hand, before grabbing Astarion’s waist and pulling him close. And as Astarion stretched out beneath him and sighed, as if with wonder, Raphael wrapped the vampire’s long, pale legs around his hips. He leaned down until their muscular chests met, and when Astarion parted his lips to receive the devil’s kiss Raphael lowered his face passed Astarion’s, and buried it at the side of his throat.
Astarion gasped, eyes widening, as Raphael pushed into him at the same time as sinking his teeth deep into his neck. I saw Astarion’s body stiffen, his lips pull away from his teeth, and Raphael took his wrists in his hands and pressed them down into the mattress. He started to thrust into him. Astarion gasped, moaned, and Raphael burred his face deeper into his throat, making wet sounds as he sucked his blood, silver hair tangling around his horns.
Haarlep and I watched. I felt their heart pound inside their chest, and as if I was dreaming I realized they had started to caress me, teasing my pleasure back into life.
Raphael’s wings spread out above us like a ceiling, casting shadows and reflecting red lights, as he pounded into Astarion so violently that every breath pushed out of Astarion became a moan, the entire bed shaking.
I stretched out in Haarlep’s arms, letting them stroke my sex and reach their long tongue out to lick the drying wine off my body. Pleasure awakening under their every touch.
Astarion turned his head to the side, and I saw Raphael’s mouth closed over his throat, the devil’s eyes smiling. And Astarion’s met my gaze, and I saw the fire in his eyes fade, slowly, turning into helplessness, surrender, all the while his body arched and writhed as if about to explode with pleasure. His voice, rising. And when he finally came, so did I. He gasped and groaned, while I simply moaned, too tired to raise my voice again.
Raphael broke his deep kiss with Astarion’s throat, and sat back between his legs. Wings folding behind him. Blood glistening on his satisfied smile. He closed his eyes, and I saw him swallow. And I saw the orgasm’s final shivers run across Astarion’s body as he was catching his breath. Once he caught it, he laughed out loud with wonder and tired confusion, and Raphael, still smiling and licking the blood off his lips, slapped him hard enough to throw his face to the side. And the devil drew back across the bed, slipping off it and leaving Astarion sprawled out naked on the sheets, still breathing heavily. A smile on the vampire’s bloodied mouth.
There was another heatwave. Fire rising, filling the room with its golden light and black shadows, before falling again and disappearing, revealing Raphael – wingless, hornless, and once again dressed in all his finery.
”Haarlep”, he said, while procuring a lace handkerchief out of a pocket to dab the corners of his mouth with. ”Take the children into the pool and get them cleaned up.”
Then, finally, he straightened the collar of his ruffled shirt, and fixed my gaze in his.
”I’ll be back”, he said, before walking away as if from a successful business transaction. And as the click of his boots faded, Astarion and I looked at each other. Realizing that we wouldn’t be able to get out of there, even if we wanted to. And I wasn’t sure if we wanted to.