Chapter 2: Domination
Lu
A guttural growl tore from Damon’s throat, raw and animal, nothing like the easy laughter he’d shared with Robyn in the sunlit stables. His muscles coiled, tendons snapping tight under sweat-slicked skin as he lunged forward, the chains rattling behind him like a warning. The Magus barely had time to inhale before Damon’s hands—thick-fingered, rough from work—closed around their robes and slammed them into the damp stone floor.
The impact knocked the air from the Magus’s lungs in a sharp gasp, their veils slipping just enough to reveal the pale curve of a cheek before they righted themselves. Damon didn’t care. He was on them in an instant, his knees digging into the straw-strewn ground as he straddled their waist, his weight pinning them down. The scent of horseflesh and leather clung to him, mixing with the Magus’s strange, herbal perfume—clove and something bitter underneath.
He ground his chest against their face, the coarse hair covering his pecs catching on the delicate fabric of their veil. His nipples, stiff and sensitive, brushed against where he knew their mouth must be. “Suck,” he rasped, voice thick with need. The command left no room for hesitation.
For a heartbeat, the Magus stayed still, their breath warm through the veil. Then, with a slow, deliberate shift, their lips parted beneath the fabric. Damon felt the first tentative flick of their tongue—soft, testing—and his whole body tightened. Pleasure shot through him, sharp and electric, making his cock twitch against the rough fabric of his pants.
He pressed harder, forcing more of himself into their mouth, and the Magus responded, their suction growing firmer, hungrier. Damon’s head fell back, his fingers tangling in their robes as the storm outside roared, wind howling through the stable’s open doors. He was losing himself, the heat of their mouth, the scrape of teeth—
A sharp bite jolted him back. Not enough to break skin, but enough to sting. Damon snarled, his hips jerking forward instinctively. “Tease,” he growled, though there was no real anger in it. Just hunger.
The Magus chuckled, the sound muffled but unmistakably smug. “Patience, beast,” they murmured, the words vibrating against his skin. “We’ve only just begun.”
Damon’s cock ached, straining against his pants, every nerve alight. He needed more. Their hands slid up his chest, fingers tracing the ridges of his muscles before stopping at his throat. The pressure of their grip was light, playful, but the threat was there.
“Who’s in charge here, beast?” they purred.
Outside, thunder cracked, shaking the stable walls. Damon’s breath hitched. The answer hung between them, thick as the storm-scented air.
Damon swallowed, tasting salt and something darker—his own arousal, sharp on his tongue. He pushed himself up, chains clinking a metallic rhythm against the stable's worn stone floor. His knees dug into scattered straw as he rose, towering over the Magus's prone form. "You are, your Grace," he admitted, the words scraping his throat raw.
Silk whispered against hay as the Magus shifted beneath him. Their gloved fingers curled into Damon's thigh, nails biting through fabric. "Prove it," they breathed, voice curling like smoke in the damp air.
Damon's hands shook as he tore at his pants, buttons pinging off the stable walls. His cock sprang free, flushed and heavy, the head glistening. He gripped himself, holding his length aloft like an offering to some forgotten god. "Is this what you wanted to see, your Grace?" The growl in his voice surprised even him. "It's all yours, Dominus."
A gasp—sharp, unguarded—escaped the Magus. Their chest rose faster beneath ornate robes as delicate fingers reached up. The kid leather of their glove dragged along Damon's shaft, making his hips jerk. "Fuck," he hissed through clenched teeth.
Every nerve ending screamed for contact. Damon's muscles trembled with restraint, sweat rolling down his temples. The Magus's fingers traced his veins with maddening precision, pausing at the swollen head. They swiped a thumb through the bead of moisture there, smearing it across their glove with deliberate slowness.
"Come closer, beast." The Magus's command slithered through the stable, underscored by distant thunder.
Damon obeyed without thought, crawling forward until his knees bracketed their shoulders. His cock brushed their veil, dampening the fabric where it touched. Their scent—cloves and something faintly metallic—flooded his senses.
The sudden yank on his chains stole his breath. Damon pitched forward, barely catching himself on one hand. The Magus's free hand tangled in his chest hair, pulling him down until their veiled mouth hovered inches from his throbbing length. "Beg," they whispered.
Damon's jaw worked. Pride warred with need, each second stretching into agony. Then—"Please." The word tore from him, ragged and desperate. "Please, your Grace. Take me."
The Magus's hidden smile burned hotter than any touch. Their glove slid away, replaced by the shocking heat of bare fingers wrapping around his base. Damon barely registered the fabric slipping from their face before their mouth—finally—closed around him.
The first lick nearly undid him. The Magus's tongue swirled around his head before diving lower, planting feather-light kisses along his shaft. When their lips found his balls, Damon saw stars. "Christ alive," he choked out, fingers scrabbling at the hay-strewn ground.
Then—bliss. The Magus took him deep, throat working around his length as the storm outside reached its crescendo. Damon's vision whited out as pleasure detonated through him, his roar shaking the stable rafters.kle
His fingers twisted in his own chest fur, pulling at swollen nipples until the pain blurred with ecstasy. The Magus's mouth was molten heat around him, their throat fluttering with each ragged breath they managed around his cock.
"Fuck—fuck—" His hips pistoned forward, driving deeper with every thrust. The Magus gagged, their fingers scrabbling at his thighs, but he didn't let up. Couldn't. Their nails bit into his skin, sharp enough to draw blood, but the sting only made him harder.
He needed to see them. Needed to watch their face as he ruined them. Damon snarled, his claws catching on delicate silk as he ripped the veils away. The fabric tore like cobwebs, revealing flushed skin, lips parted and wet. The Magus's eyes were black pools, pupils blown wide—not with fear, but hunger.
Damon's breath hitched. "Look at you," he growled, voice shredded.
The Magus's tongue flicked out, licking a stripe up his shaft before taking him deep again. Damon's control snapped. He fisted their hair, yanking their head back just to slam forward again, his cock hitting the back of their throat. The Magus choked, tears streaking their cheeks, but their hands clutched at his hips, pulling him closer.
"Take it," Damon snarled. "Take all of me."
The Magus moaned around him, the vibration shooting straight to his balls. Damon's thrusts turned erratic, his muscles locking as pleasure coiled tight in his gut. He came with a roar, his release flooding their mouth, their throat working desperately to swallow.
For a heartbeat, the world stilled. Then Damon collapsed forward, his forehead resting against the Magus's shoulder as he gasped for air. His body trembled, sweat cooling on his skin. Beneath him, the Magus lay still, their breath shallow.
Damon's stomach lurched. He pushed himself up, his claws retracting as he stared at the Magus's limp form. Their chest rose—just barely. Alive.
But what the fuck had he just done?
The chains clinked as Damon staggered back, his legs giving out as he hit the straw. His hands shook. The scent of sex and sweat hung thick in the air, but underneath it, something darker. Something primal.
Damon looked down at his hands—still human, but not quite. The hair on his arms was thicker, darker. His nails, though no longer claws, were ragged and sharp.
The Magus stirred with a cough, their fingers twitching toward their torn veils. Damon should have helped them. Should have apologized.
Instead, he turned and ran.
The storm outside swallowed him whole.