Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

"MY FATHER WAS A CLOCKMAKER—" said Corazón, "at least that's what I was told."

"What you were told?" Rafel quietly inquisitioned; he didn't mean to interrupt.

Cora clutched onto the pillow in her arms to her chest; folded in on herself on the couch. She went on. "Yeah. I am adopted. I suppose I should've led with that first. My parents are a Baron and a Baroness, back in Titans Landing.

They say they know nothing of my real mother, but my father died on some foggy day years ago. I was rescued from the Orphanage of the Martyr's Grace."

How convenient Rafel thought; that whomever wiped her mind carefully removed all possible ties to her past, so that even if she went looking, Cora would only meet dead-ends.

A dead father?

A disappeared mother?

A forsaken child?

It began to sound more and more like one specific demon's MO; that flaccid prick Mephistopheles. But he was Usurper now: King Thebault—quote, unquote. Rafel somehow didn't think Meph had the kind of genius it took to pull some villainy like this. The perpetrator had to be someone with a far higher intelligence quotient.

And it was. Rafel just didn't know it yet.

He said to Cora, ". . .and you don't recall this orphanage?"

"No, I was taken when I was a babe," she told him.

So they told her! Rafel frowned. Her memory wipe was wholistic, turned her mind into a fricking tabula rasa. In fact, such psyche techniques were outlawed by certain druid orders. It was considered a form of torture, and thus banned. In the lands of Eldoria, sanctions were placed on when mages were allowed to brutally wipe the slate clean—so to speak.

And the fact that only a level [Rank B] Caster and above could perform the rites made it harder to execute.

The person behind Cora's resurrection and [loss] had to be well high-up there on the arcane portfolio. At least it narrowed down the spectrum of likely suspects in Rafel's mind.

He asked, "would I know your parents?"

Cora nodded. "Yeah, maybe. My adoptive mum is the daughter of the warden of the northland, her husband newly named protector of Rumbrun, Castamere, and the other cities that fell during the battle of Skyfall. They are Baron Zagreus and Baroness Belbys."

'That sounds awfully like the Zagreus and Belbys I know you be very proud members of the Fallen,' Rafel admitted within. He kept it to himself, scribbling their names in his mind as first suspects. Zagreus was the son of Lady Persephone, and Belbys, a wanton demoness with Lucifer's collar for BDSM about her neck.

The Zagreus and Belbys he knew were not some northland royalty. They weren't even mortal. Perhaps, they had ascended from the Underworld along with the other Fallen and the Kingpin behind had put them up to the adoption story; a ploy to mislead any investigation.

It was a damn good one. But Rafel was better.

"You have a picture of your parents?" He asked.

Cora lowered her eyes. "You know now that you mention it, no. I just realized, I don't have one single picture of my parents."

There it is! There it fuckin' is! Rafel jabbed internally. He wasn't wrong in thinking monkey business. Cora couldn't produce any picture because there wasn't one to begin with in the first place. It was all a lie.

An assumption of reality. Rafel decided he had poked Cora enough for one night. He internally moved to take Rosa's advice earlier. To go slow.

At least he had two names to begin with.

"Do you think it's weird...that I have no picture of my parents?" Cora blinked her blue eyes.

"It's certainly strange," Rafel replied. He wasn't gonna lie about that. "More wine?" He asked.

Cora nodded, and he rose, padding down the rug to the little deck bar of the dorm room to fetch a flagon. He poured into both their cups and didn't return the bottle. He and Cora drank silently, staring at the fireplace, until they were halfway down the flagon. "You are a good host, Israfel. But I should be on my way." Cora dropped her empty glass. "No more wine for me."

"Do you really want to?"

Cora stared down at Rafel. He was back at her feet. She blinked again. "—Want to what?"

"Leave, I mean," Rafel replied, "do you really want to leave?"

"What does that mean? Is there some reason I'd wanna be here?"

"You tell me?"

"Gosh! You're so full of yourself." Cora adopted a timberish baritone. "'Oh look at me, I'm Israfel. I'm so fucking hot. Every girl wants to have sex with me'" In her normal voice, she retorted, "get over yourself, Red."

"Okay," Rafel said simply.

He rose from the rug to a kneeling position before her. Cora at that moment admitted she'd been turned on from when he'd brought her a shot at the rave. He was a beautiful specimen of a boy, and she, was still a girl. It didn't hurt to look. But now, in the passing minutes alone with him, admiration had morphed into something of lust.

She wasn't even gonna kid herself; seeing him settle himself below her couch had filled her mind with all these crazy ideas.

She thought of his male member, and how tasty and full he had felt inside her mouth. She'd been naughty at the locker room that day. Her attraction to Rafel was a turmoil. They had this weird rhythm going on whenever they were together. She wanted to be naughty again.

His cock was quite the enlightenment. She wondered how his tongue would feel.

Cora shifted on the couch, frowning slightly and crossing her legs. A burn had started between her legs.

"Everything okay?" Rafel's strong bass hit her.

"Mhmm hmmm." She nodded.

"Okay," Rafel grinned a bit. "I'm just gonna go get my key card and we can leave."

He was just about to turn when Cora grabbed his hand. "Wait!" He turned and she muttered a breathy, "fuck it," just as she smashed her lips into his.

Rafel didn't need a minute to get ready. For Cora, he was born ready. Her kiss surprised him but he, without a word, fell into it. Her arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer. So did her long legs. He ran his own hands down her forearms behind his neck, linking his fingers with hers.

And then he drank of her taste from those rose lips of hers. Cora frenched him with her tongue, growing bold at the hard poker that nudged her stomach.

She broke the kiss wetly. "No below the belt stuff. We'll just make out."

Rafel nodded, biting and drawing on her lip.

Cora grabbed his head, kissing him hard. "God, I fucking hate this with you! Why did you have to be so fuckin' hot, huh?" She licked at his lips, sucked his tongue in with hers, trailed his chin, swiped at his earlobe.

Rafel's face was in her neck. "Ah, Cora. We need to stop now if we're gonna."

"Don't stop." Cora drew him up for another feverish, hard kissing.

He broke away, breathing hard, and tore at her pants' fly. He jerked down the zipper and tried to drag off her trousers, but her hips wouldn't let him. Cora moaned, biting on her lower lip as he roughly turned her over. She knelt on the couch with him behind and below her on the rug. She wiggled her hips, helping him drag down the tight denim.

"No panties?" Rafel inhaled greatly. "Good God! Stay right there. Stay right fucking there!"

He lapped at her from ass to slit.

"Oh god!" Cora pushed his head away and turned over. But Rafel grabbed her before she could squirm her way away. She wiggled in his arms; a half-hearted attempt. He pressed her down on the love seat and spread her legs.

"Such a cute, little pussy," he growled, diving for the creaminess between her sighed.

His tongue shot out and the friction was like fire.

"Oh my god!" Cora grabbed onto his head, her fingers in his hair, her legs on his back, and her thighs on his shoulder; she moved slowly back and forth on his face. She bit her lip and freed her breasts from her button-up shirt, palming herself.

"Yes, Israfel. Ohh!" She moved on his tongue with her legs spread in only her Goth boots. "—eat that pussy. You like how it fucking tastes, yeah? That fuckin' cream in your mouth. Yes, fuck!

Eat that fucking pussy." She held onto his long red hair and rode hard. "Oh god, you're gonna make me cum. Yessss fuuuuuuccckk! Mhmm. Like that. Just like that.

Lick that pussy."

Rafel's face was smeared in her scent and wetness.

She was shuddering out her orgasm when he slipped a finger inside her. Cora bucked up the love seat. Rafel placed a palm on her mouth to keep her quiet—he hadn't forgotten the thin walls of the dorm; she sucked his fingers in.

He rubbed her clit with his thumb and added another finger inside her. Cora jerked in his hold.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it? A good pussy eating!"

Cora was shaking her head, and he ripped off her shirt, sending the button skittering and clamping his mouth on her pink breasts. "Oh god, Rafel. We should stop!" Cora groaned. But she held him tight against her swelled boobs.

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Rafel fingered her with three pumping digits. In and out. In and out. He was whispering over her face, eyes locked to hers. "Oh, look at that! Would you?

Look how fucking wet you are." As if on cue, Cora's hips lifted up, sending out a creaminess that made his fingers squish inside more. "You want more, you naughty lesbian? I know you do. Tell me, does your girlfriend finger you good like this. Does she? Tell me?"

Rafel spanked her thigh.

"N-No, s-she doesn't. She doesn't finger me like—Ohhhummmm!" Cora thrashed. Rafel added the third finger, pumping her cunt so hard he was lifting her up the sofa with his motions.

Cora gripped onto his shoulders, her perky breasts bouncing. "Will you give me your cock, pretty please?"

She was hastily undoing his massive belt buckle when the screen door to the room slurred open. A furious girl came marching in. Rafel and Cora froze on the spot. The both of them saw the girl at the same time. First her pink-glossed lips dropped open. And then came the scream.

"WHAT THE FUCK? What are you doing to my girlfriend, you fucking asshole? What...what are you doing to her? Get the hell away from her."

Rafel found himself pushed away from Cora. The girl too stood up and frantically grabbed at her tossed jeans. She shimmed in with the speed of lightning. Three new persons walked in after the girl—who was still yelling and flinging herself at Rafel's chest; Rosa, Percival, and Ravenna.

Percival had his head lowered.

Shit had just hit the fan!

Meanwhile, Corazón, hastily buttoned and zipped up, tried to calm her girlfriend.

Then her eyes for the first time that night turned and hit the painting above the mantelpiece. Her blue eyes widened to the size of saucers. The moit colors of the piece swum before her eyes. Outside, the tower clock struck twelve.

Midnight.

And Cora felt a huge rush overwhelm her whole form, like poison lead in her brain.

She dropped to the floor like a sack.

"Cora!" Five voices raised in alarm.