Disclaimer: I do not have any rights of ownership for the characters used except the OC's. All the credit goes to the authors. Only the plot belongs to me.
Chapter 8
~ Raynare ~
Raynare stood before the door, her hand hovering inches from the brass handle. Her black wings were retracted, but the phantom weight of them itched between her shoulder blades—a constant reminder of what she was, and more importantly, what she was not anymore. She was a Fallen Angel. A creature of light corrupted, now a servant in the house of devils. Specifically, a servant to the Red-Haired Ruin Princess, Rias Gremory.
Beside her, Kalawarner shifted her weight, the tall woman's usual confident posture replaced by a nervous, feline energy. Her blue eyes darted down the hallway, looking for anyone who might interrupt them. On Raynare's other side, little Mittelt bounced on the balls of her feet, chewing her lip, her gothic lolita dress rustling softly in the silence.
"Are we doing this or not?" Mittelt hissed, her voice a thread of sound. "If the Lightning Queen catches us, she'll fry us."
"Quiet, you idiot," Raynare whispered back, her voice sharp. "Akeno is asleep. They all are. That's the point."
"They're asleep in his room," Kalawarner muttered, a sultry bitterness coating her words. She crossed her arms, pushing up her impressive bust. "Every night. It's always the King and the Queen. They parade him around during the day like a trophy, and then they lock him away at night like a gluttonous hoarding dragon."
Raynare felt that bitterness echo in her own chest. It was a corrosive cocktail of jealousy and lust that had been brewing since the Rating Game against Sona. They had experienced what Taurus was capable of. They had felt his hands on them, breaking them, reshaping them. And they had become addicted.
Since the Rating Game, their King had staked her claim, asserting herself and toppling the entire system.
Now, the access to the "Bull's Pen" was strictly regulated by Rias, who guarded her Rook with a possessiveness that bordered on mania.
"We are not just pawns to be shelved," Raynare declared, though she kept her voice low. "We are Fallen Angels. We take what we desire. And tonight... we are reclaiming our time."
She gripped the handle. It was unlocked. Of course it was. Who would be foolish enough to intrude on a monster like Taurus?
With a breath she didn't realize she was holding, Raynare turned the knob and pushed.
The door swung open on well-oiled hinges, revealing the inner sanctum.
The air inside hit them like a physical wave. It was thick, heavy, and hot. It smelled of expensive cedarwood, the earthy tang of musk, sweet female perfume, and underneath it all, the overwhelming, earthy musk of a potent male. It was the scent of a predator's den, rich with pheromones that made Raynare's knees instantly weak.
They slipped inside, closing the door softly behind them.
The room was vast, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains of the balcony doors. In the centre of the room lay the bed—a custom-made monstrosity of reinforced timber and silk, large enough to sleep a small army.
And there he was.
Taurus lay on his back, a sprawling landscape of bronze muscle and dark hair. He was uncovered, the sheets kicked down to his ankles in the heat of the night. His chest rose and fell in a slow, tectonic rhythm, deep breaths that sounded like distant thunder. His arms were spread wide, and curled into his massive form were the jailors of the Gremory house.
To his left lay Rias Gremory. The crimson-haired King was naked, her pale skin glowing in the moonlight like alabaster against the bronze of his side. Her face was pressed into his shoulder, one leg thrown possessively over his thigh, her hand resting flat on his chest over his heart. She looked peaceful, satiated, a stark contrast to the imperious leader she played during the day.
To his right was Akeno Himejima. The Queen was equally nude, her raven hair fanned out over Taurus's bicep. She was curled into a ball against his flank, her lips slightly parted, a look of blissful exhaustion on her face.
Raynare felt a spike of envy so sharp it almost hurt. This domesticity, this casual ownership... it was infuriating.
"Look at them," Kalawarner whispered, creeping closer to the foot of the bed. Her eyes, however, weren't on the women. They were fixed on the centrepiece of the tableau. "Greedy bitches."
Raynare followed her gaze, and her breath hitched.
Taurus might have been asleep, but his body was very much awake. Rising from the dark thicket of hair between his legs was a monument to virility. His cock stood straight up, rock-hard and throbbing with a slow, heavy pulse. It was massive, a thick column of dark flesh veined with power, the head glistening with a faint sheen of pre-cum that caught the moonlight.
It was an unspoken invitation. A challenge.
Mittelt let out a soft, strangled squeak. "It's... it's looking at us."
"It's waiting," Raynare corrected, her throat dry. She licked her lips, stepping closer. The heat radiating from the bed was intoxicating. "He's dreaming. Probably of war. Or fucking."
"Or both," Kalawarner added, her hand drifting down to her own stomach, her fingers itching to touch.
They stood at the edge of the bed, three fallen angels turned voyeurs, mesmerized by the sleeping titan. The sheer size of him compared to the delicate forms of Rias and Akeno was staggering. He could break them in half without trying, yet here they were, sleeping safely in the shadow of his power.
"So," Mittelt whispered, her eyes wide and dilated. "Who goes first?"
Raynare tore her eyes away from the magnificent erection to glare at her sisters. "I am the leader. I should—"
"You were the leader when we were rogue," Kalawarner interrupted, her voice husky. "Here, we are all just holes in the hierarchy. Besides, I'm the tallest. I can handle him without waking the others."
"That's not fair!" Mittelt hissed, stepping forward. "I'm the smallest! I'll be done quick! I haven't had a turn in three days!"
"Shh!" Raynare waved her hands frantically. "Do you want to wake the Red-Haired Ruin? If Rias wakes up, she'll blast us into the next dimension."
They stood in a tense triangle of lust and ambition. The prize was right there, throbbing in the air, but the order of operations was a diplomatic crisis.
"Rock, paper, scissors," Mittelt proposed, holding out a fist.
Raynare stared at her. "Are you serious? We are ancient beings of light and dark, and you want to decide who rides Master with a child's game?"
"It's fair," Kalawarner shrugged, holding out her own fist. "Unless you're scared, you'll lose, Raynare."
Raynare narrowed her violet eyes. "Fine."
They gathered silently at the foot of the bed, the sleeping form of Taurus looming above them like a mountain range.
"One, two, three... shoot."
Raynare threw Paper.
Kalawarner threw Paper.
Mittelt threw Scissors.
Mittelt gasped, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle a squeal of victory. She did a little silent jig, her twin tails bouncing. "Yes! Scissors cuts Paper! Scissors beats everything!"
Raynare ground her teeth, looking down at her open palm with betrayal. "Best two out of three?"
"Nope! Rules are rules!" Mittelt stuck her tongue out, then turned her hungry gaze back to the bed. She didn't hesitate. She began to strip.
Her dress fell to the floor with a soft rustle, followed by her petticoats and stockings. Within seconds, she was naked, her small, pale body trembling with anticipation. She climbed onto the bed with the stealth of a cat, careful not to disturb the mattress.
Raynare and Kalawarner watched, their jealousy warring with a secondary, voyeuristic arousal. They couldn't touch him yet, but they could serve. As if by a silent agreement born of shared defeat, they moved to the sides of the bed.
Raynare knelt on the floor near Taurus's thigh, just below where Rias was sleeping. Kalawarner took the other side, near Akeno.
Mittelt crawled up the centre, hovering over Taurus's legs. She positioned herself over his erection, her small hands bracing against his abs. The heat coming off him was intense, a furnace blast against her inner thighs.
"Oh wow," she breathed, looking down at the intimidating girth. "He's... raging."
She lowered herself slowly. The head of his cock brushed against her wet entrance, and she shuddered, her eyes rolling back. It was immense. Stretching. Filling.
"Mmmph..." Mittelt bit her lip, sinking down inch by agonizing inch. She took him in, her body adjusting to the invasion, her core flooding with moisture to accommodate the beast.
Raynare watched the penetration, her own core throbbing in sympathy. She couldn't stand being idle. She reached out, her hands ghosting over Taurus's massive thigh muscle, feeling the steel-hard tension beneath the skin. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his knee, her tongue darting out to taste the salt on his skin.
Kalawarner was bolder. She reached between Taurus's legs from the side, her fingers grazing the heavy, weighted sac that rested against the mattress. She cupped his balls gently, feeling the heat and the sheer volume of seed stored within. She began to massage them, a slow, rhythmic kneading that drew a low, rumble from deep within Taurus's chest.
Taurus stirred.
The three Fallen froze. Rias murmured something in her sleep, shifting slightly, her leg sliding further up Taurus's body, effectively trapping him. Akeno sighed, nuzzling deeper into his arm.
But Taurus didn't wake. Not fully. His brow furrowed, and a low groan escaped his lips. His hips bucked upward—a single, powerful thrust.
Mittelt's eyes went wide as saucers. The sudden movement drove him to the hilt inside her. A silent scream of pleasure-pain contorted her face, her mouth opening in a wide 'O' as she was skewered completely. She collapsed forward, her hands gripping his pecs, her body convulsing around the intrusion.
"Too big..." she whimpered softly, tears pricking her eyes. "So deep..."
The movement seemed to settle him, but the beast was rousing. The primal brain was activating before the conscious one.
Raynare saw her chance. She crawled up further, carefully avoiding Rias's arm. She couldn't have his cock, but she could have his body. She began to trail her tongue up his inner thigh, swirling around the thick muscles, worshiping the pillars that supported him.
Kalawarner moved to his hand—the one resting near his hip. She took his thick fingers into her mouth, sucking on them one by one, simulating the act she desperately wanted to perform on his other member.
Mittelt began to ride. Slowly at first, terrified of waking the Queens, but the pleasure was too demanding. She picked up the pace, her small hips rising and falling, the wet slap of her flesh against his muted by the sounds of his breathing. She ground herself down on him, milking the sleeping giant, feeling the twitching response of his cock inside her.
"Yes... yes..." Mittelt panted, her head thrown back.
Suddenly, the atmosphere in the room shifted. The air grew heavier, charged with static.
A large, calloused hand shot out and clamped around Mittelt's ass.
Mittelt froze mid-thrust.
Another hand moved, tangling into Raynare's hair as she licked his thigh.
Golden eyes snapped open in the darkness. They weren't groggy or confused. They were lucid, burning with a molten, predatory intelligence.
Taurus was awake.
"Pets," his voice was a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated through the bed frame, through their bodies, and straight into their souls.
Mittelt squeaked, looking down into the face of the monster she was riding. "W-we... we just wanted—"
"To worship?" Taurus finished. A slow, cruel grin spread across his face. "You don't anything without permission from a bull. You ask to be trampled."
He didn't give them time to beg. With a surge of strength, he sat up. The movement dislodged Rias and Akeno, who rolled to the sides with confused murmurs, but Taurus ignored them.
He gripped Mittelt's waist with both hands and pulled. He slammed her down onto his cock, again and again. The slow, sensual ride was over. This was a pounding. He piston-fired his hips, driving into her with a ferocity that made her vision blur.
"Ah! Ah! Master! Wait! Too hard!" Mittelt cried out, no longer caring about silence. The pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave that drowned out fear.
Raynare tried to pull back, but his hand was still in her hair. He yanked her up, dragging her across the sheets until she was face-to-face with him. He kissed her—not a romantic press of lips, but a devourment. He crushed his mouth to hers, his tongue invading, sweeping, conquering. He tasted of Mittelt's sweat and his own power.
Kalawarner, realizing concealment was impossible, scrambled onto the bed proper. "Me too! Lord Taurus, me too!"
Taurus broke the kiss with Raynare, leaving her gasping and dazed. He looked at Kalawarner, then at the squirming, whimpering Mittelt on his lap.
"Greedy herd," he growled.
He flipped Mittelt over, bending her over his lap so her ass was in the air, still impaled on him. He grabbed Kalawarner by the neck and pulled her down, forcing her face into his crotch, right beside where he was buried in Mittelt.
"Work," he commanded Kalawarner.
She obeyed instantly, her tongue darting out to lick the underside of his shaft where it disappeared into Mittelt, cleaning up the juices, worshiping the union.
Raynare, feeling left out, crawled onto his back, wrapping her arms around his massive neck, biting his ear, grinding her breasts against his spine.
It was a chaotic tangle of limbs and lust; a hierarchy of pleasure being established in real-time. Taurus was the centre, the sun around which they orbited. He fucked Mittelt until she was sobbing in ecstasy, then tossed her aside to pull Raynare underneath him. He took the leader of the Fallen with a brutal efficiency, stretching her, making her scream his name, marking her as his property. Kalawarner got her turn last, bent over the headboard, her long legs trembling as he hammered into her from behind, holding her wings to keep her steady.
The noise was immense. The bed creaked and groaned. Flesh slapped against flesh. Screams of pleasure filled the room.
And through it all, the two Queens stirred.
Rias sat up first, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her crimson hair was a mess, her breasts heaving with slow breaths. She looked at the scene before her—Taurus currently driving into a screaming Kalawarner while Mittelt and Raynare lay in heaps of exhaustion on the floor.
Akeno sat up next, yawning, stretching her arms over her head, arching her back to display her figure.
Neither of them looked angry.
Rias checked the clock on the bedside table. 6:30 AM.
"Ara, ara," Akeno murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "They seemed eager to start today."
Rias watched Taurus's back muscles ripple as he delivered a final, earth-shattering thrust into Kalawarner. She felt a twinge of arousal, but also the pragmatic reality of her schedule.
"We have to be at school in a couple of hours. And I have a meeting at home later," Rias noted, swinging her legs off the bed. She stood up, completely unbothered by her nudity, walking past the orgy.
She paused near Taurus. He had just pulled out of a convulsing Kalawarner and was sitting on the edge of the bed, catching his breath, his body glistening with sweat and fluids.
Rias leaned down. She cupped his face, turning him toward her. She ignored the Fallen Angels entirely.
"Good morning, my Rook," she whispered.
She kissed him deeply, a slow, languid exchange that staked her claim far more effectively than any shouting match. She tasted the night on him, the musk of the Fallen, and she swallowed it down.
"Morning, King," Taurus rumbled, leaning into her touch.
Akeno drifted by, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to his cheek and stroking his still erect member for a few moments. "Don't wear them out too much, Taurus-kun. We might need them for patrols later."
"No promises," Taurus grunted.
With that, Rias and Akeno grabbed their robes and headed for the door, chatting casually about breakfast options. They left the three Fallen Angels—sweaty, broken, and blissed out—lying in the wreckage of the bed, while the bull remained, the undisputed master of the domain.
Raynare lifted her head from the sheets, watching Rias leave. But before she could say or even think anything, she felt herself being propped up on all fours, as Taurus sheathed himself in a single thrust inside her again.
~ Taurus ~
The shower in the master suite was less a stall and more a room tiled in black obsidian. Steam filled the air, thick and opaque, carrying the scent of sandalwood soap and the metallic tang of washed-away fluids.
Taurus stood under the spray, the scalding water hammering against his broad shoulders. He leaned one hand against the wall, head bowed, watching the water swirl down the drain. The physical release of the morning had been potent—the Fallen Angels were enthusiastic, if a bit unrefined—but it hadn't touched the deeper, darker itch in his soul.
He was a creature of burden and battle. The sex was good—necessary, even, for his energy regulation—but he could feel the tension in the house. It wasn't the sexual tension of the Fallen. It was a political weight. A looming shadow.
He turned off the water. The sudden silence was heavy.
He grabbed a towel—a massive sheet of white Egyptian cotton—and wrapped it around his waist. He stepped out of the shower room and into the adjoining dressing area.
The air shimmered.
A crimson teleportation circle, small and personal, flared to life on the rug.
Rias Gremory stepped out.
She wasn't the confident King who had strutted out of the bedroom in the morning. She was in her usual attire, the Kuoh school uniform. But it was her face that stopped Taurus in his tracks.
Her eyes were red-rimmed. Her lip trembled. The imperious mask was shattered, revealing a terrified young girl underneath
She looked at him, and for the first time since he had known her, she looked small.
"Rias?" Taurus rumbled, stepping forward.
She didn't speak. She just launched herself at him.
She collided with his damp chest, her arms wrapping desperately around his neck, burying her face in the crook of his shoulder. She was shaking. Violent tremors wracked her slim body.
"Make it stop," she whispered into his skin, her voice muffled and broken. "Please, Taurus. Make it stop. Make me forget."
Taurus wrapped his massive arms around her, enveloping her completely. He could feel the coldness of her skin, the frantic beat of her heart against his.
"The engagement?" he asked quietly. He knew the answer. The name 'Riser Phenex' had been whispered in the halls like a curse for weeks.
"He's coming," Rias wept, pulling back to look at him. Her eyes were wild, desperate. "Tomorrow. He's coming to finalize it. To take me. I thought I had more time! I can't... I can't be his property, Taurus. I can't."
She grabbed his hand, pressing it to her breast, over her heart. "Fuck me. Please. Right now. Take me so hard I forget who I am. Take me so thoroughly that there's no room left for him. Claim me, Taurus. Ruin me before he can."
It wasn't a seduce. It was a plea for oblivion. She wanted to be unmade by his power, to use his physical dominance as a shield against the political rape she was facing.
Taurus felt a surge of protective rage—not at her, but for her. He looked down at his King, this beautiful, broken creature offering herself up as a sacrifice to his lust just to feel a moment of freedom.
"Rias..." he growled softly, his hand moving to cup her cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
She stood on her tiptoes, pressing her lips to his, kissing him with a frantic, salty desperation. She clawed at the towel around his waist, ripping it away, her magic destroying her own uniform, leaving them both bare. She needed him inside her, needed the anchor of his weight.
Taurus let the towel drop. He was already hard—Rias's distress, paradoxically, fuelled his protective instinct which was inextricably linked to his virility. He gripped her hips, ready to lift her, ready to give her the oblivion she craved.
Hummmmm.
A new sound cut through the room. A different magical frequency. Not the warm crimson of Gremory, but a cold, disciplined silver.
Another magic circle expanded on the floor, larger and far more intricate than Rias's. The geometric perfection of the Lucifuge clan.
Rias froze in his arms, her eyes widening in shock.
From the light stepped a figure of absolute authority.
Grayfia Lucifuge. The Ultimate Queen. The Strongest Maid.
She wore her maid uniform with military precision—not a frill out of place, the white crisp against the blue. Her silver hair was tied into French braids, her expression a mask of icy neutrality.
She took in the scene instantly. The steam-filled room. The naked, weeping heiress. The massive, aroused Minotaur-devil.
Grayfia didn't blush. She didn't gasp. Not even a frown.
"Lady Rias," her voice was cool, clear water. "Your mother sent me to collect you. She understood that you would try to do something drastic after hearing about… the news today. She wishes for you to go meet her right now."
Rias shrank against Taurus, trying to hide her nudity, trying to hide her shame. "Grayfia... I..."
"Running away to your Rook's bedchamber will not dissolve the contract," Grayfia continued, her tone holding a sliver of rebuke. "It only delays the inevitable and dishonours your standing. You are a Gremory. Comport yourself as one."
The words were a slap. Rias flinched, burying her face in Taurus's chest again.
Taurus tightened his grip on Rias, his golden eyes narrowing at the maid. He respected Grayfia's power, but he didn't appreciate her tone in the moment.
"She is grieving her freedom," Taurus rumbled, his voice dropping to warning growl.
Grayfia's grey eyes flicked to Taurus. For a second, the air between them crackled—the pressure of the Ultimate Queen meeting the immovable object of the Bronze Bull.
Then, something in Grayfia's expression shifted. Her gaze dropped.
She looked at Rias, trembling and naked. Then she looked lower.
She looked at Taurus's erection.
It was fully gorged, a heavy, throbbing testament to the interrupted act. It stood out starkly against his dark skin, leaking a clear drop of fluid from the tip.
A faint, almost imperceptible flush coloured Grayfia's pale cheeks. The ice cracked, revealing the devil beneath.
"However," Grayfia said, her voice softening, losing its sharp edge. "It is also... highly improper... to leave a servant of the House in such a state of distress."
Rias looked up, confused, wiping her eyes. "What?"
Grayfia cleared her throat, her eyes fixed on Taurus's cock. "A Rook is a pillar of the peerage. Physical maintenance is crucial to his performance. To leave him... engaged... without release is a failure of management. It breeds frustration. Inefficiency."
She took a step forward. The stern disciplinarian melted away, replaced by something far more complex. A dutiful servant. A maid whose purpose was to ensure every need of the household was met.
"Lord Sirzechs would be disappointed if we neglected the health of his sister's champion," Grayfia murmured. She looked up at Taurus, her eyes slightly glazed. "Lord Taurus. Please forgive the interruption. We cannot leave you like this."
Rias blinked, her sadness momentarily eclipsed by shock. "Grayfia? Are you saying...?"
Grayfia didn't answer Rias. She walked up to Taurus, standing beside the naked heiress. She reached out, her hands gentle, and took hold of Taurus's erection.
The touch was electric.
"Lady Rias," Grayfia said, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Kneel. We have a duty to perform before you dress."
Rias stared at the maid, then at Taurus. The sheer surrealism of the moment—the Ultimate Queen initiating a sex act to 'maintain efficiency'—broke the spell of her depression. A spark of her own lust reignited.
"Yes," Rias breathed. "Duty."
They sank to their knees together on the plush rug. The contrast was staggering—Rias, the naked, voluptuous redhead, and Grayfia, the fully clothed, mature maid.
They positioned themselves on either side of his hips.
"Together," Grayfia instructed.
They moved in unison. Rias took the head into her mouth, her tongue swirling desperately, seeking comfort in the taste of him. Grayfia took the base, her mouth hot and skilled, working the shaft with a suction that betrayed decades of suppressed experience.
Taurus groaned, throwing his head back, his hands coming down to rest on their heads—one crimson, one silver. The sensation was mind-bending. The desperation of the King mixed with the precision of the Queen.
Grayfia's hands roamed over his thighs, squeezing the muscle. She wasn't just servicing him; she was inspecting him, appreciating the raw power he held. She unbuttoned the top of her maid uniform with one hand, revealing the swell of her pale, perfect breasts, encased in a modest white bra.
"Use them," she whispered against his skin.
She pulled away from his cock and guided Rias to do the same. Rias, understanding the cue, pressed her ample chest against Taurus's length, trapping it between her tits.
Grayfia stood up, her skirt rustling. She pushed Rias gently aside.
"That is enough, Lady Rias," Grayfia said, her voice breathless but commanding. "You are emotional. You need to watch. To learn composure."
"But—" Rias started.
"Watch," Grayfia ordered. She turned her back to Taurus, bent over, and shed her maid skirt.
Beneath, she wore white stockings and simple cotton panties. She hooked her thumbs into the waistband and shimmied them down, revealing a pussy that was already glistening wet, the lips swollen and pink.
She looked back over her shoulder at Taurus, her expression a mix of professional duty and innocent, overwhelming sluttyness.
"This unit requires... deeper maintenance, Lord Taurus," she breathed. "Please. Discipline me. Remind me of my place as a maid."
Taurus didn't need to be told twice. The sight of the stoic Grayfia presenting herself like a bitch in heat was the ultimate trigger.
He grabbed her hips, his large hands nearly spanning her waist. He didn't prepare her. He didn't ask. He lined himself up and thrust forward.
SCHLICK.
He buried himself in her with one stroke.
Grayfia screamed—a sound that shattered her composure completely. "AHHH! MASTER!"
She buckled, her face pressing into the carpet, her ass in the air. Taurus held her up, acting as the anchor. He began to fuck her with a punishing, relentless rhythm.
Rias sat back on her heels, watching wide-eyed. Her hand drifted down between her own legs. To see her brother's wife, the terrifying Grayfia, reduced to this... screaming, drooling, begging for more.
"Yes! Yes! Deeper!" Grayfia wailed, her voice cracking. "Ruin me! Fill the maid! Use me!"
She was tight, incredibly so, gripping him like a vice. But she was also incredibly wet, her body betraying just how long she had gone without this kind of primal attention.
Taurus leaned over her, his chest pressing against her back. He whispered in her ear, his voice dark and cruel. "Is this efficient, Grayfia? Is this proper?"
"It's perfect!" she sobbed, grinding back against him. "I'm a bad maid! I need correction! I need your seed!"
Rias moaned, her fingers working furiously against her clit as she watched the spectacle. The sound of wet flesh colliding, Grayfia's uncharacteristic dirty talk, the sheer power of Taurus dominating the strongest woman in the Underworld.
"I'm close," Taurus growled.
"Inside!" Grayfia shrieked, reaching back to claw at his thighs. "Do not waste a drop! Breed me! DO IT!"
Taurus roared, his muscles locking up. He drove deep, hitting her cervix, and unloaded.
He poured into her, wave after wave of potent, high-class devil seed. Grayfia convulsed around him, her eyes rolling back, her tongue lolling out in a visage of pure, mindless ecstasy. She took it all, her womb swelling with his essence.
Taurus held her there for a long minute, milking the aftershocks, before finally pulling out. Grayfia collapsed onto the rug, twitching, a puddle of fluids spreading beneath her.
Silence returned to the room, broken only by heavy breathing.
Grayfia lay there for a moment, then slowly, shakily, pushed herself up. Her makeup had been smudged, her hair coming loose, her face flushed and covered in sweat.
She adjusted her headdress. She smoothed her skirt, though it was hopeless. She turned to Rias, regaining a shred of her composure, though her voice was an octave higher than usual.
"You see, Lady Rias," Grayfia panted, her legs trembling as she tried to stand. "Maintenance... is complete."
She looked at Taurus one last time, a look of profound, terrifying adoration in her eyes, before bowing deeply.
"Thank you... Lord Taurus."
Rias scrambled up, her fear of the engagement replaced by a strange, newfound confidence. She looked at the mess they had made, at the power her Rook held over even the Lucifuge.
If he could break the Ultimate Queen... maybe, just maybe, he could break a Phenex too.
Rias walked over to Taurus, kissing his chest.
"Let's get dressed," she whispered, a fire in her eyes. "Soon, we shall have a bird to roast."
Author's Notes
Love it? Hate it? Let me know.
See you soon with another chapter.