Chapter 13: Sparring Desires
The damp chill of the Sunken Chambers clung to Caius’s skin like a second layer, even as he stepped into the harsh glare of the Training Grounds. Sand gritted beneath his worn boots, kicked up by the clash of steel and the shouts of demon warriors sparring nearby. The air tasted thick with sweat, dust, and the metallic tang of exertion. Sunlight, harsh and unforgiving after the perpetual gloom below, stabbed at his eyes. He squinted, raising a hand to shield his face, acutely aware of the faint, persistent warmth low in his belly – the nascent clutch Rhavan had ignited mere hours ago, already a quiet, demanding presence.
"Eyes open, Prince." Rhavan’s voice cut through the din, cool and commanding. He stood a few paces away, stripped to the waist like Caius, revealing the powerful musculature honed over centuries. Obsidian horns caught the sun, gleaming darkly against his raven hair. He held two practice swords, their edges blunted but heavy, real. He tossed one towards Caius. It landed point-first in the sand with a dull thud. "Pick it up."
Caius hesitated. His limbs felt leaden, drained from the ordeal in the chamber, the phantom echoes of shattering pleasure and profound exhaustion warring within him. The thought of lifting the heavy blade, let alone wielding it against Rhavan, seemed ludicrous. Yet defiance sparked, a stubborn ember refusing to be extinguished. He bent, fingers wrapping around the leather-bound hilt. The weight pulled at his shoulder, a familiar ache layered over new, deeper fatigue. He straightened, meeting Rhavan’s molten gold gaze.
"First blood?" Caius asked, his voice rough. A standard sparring term, meaningless here. What counted as blood? What counted as victory?
Rhavan’s lips curved in a humorless smile. "Survival." He settled into a ready stance, fluid and predatory. "Begin."
Caius lunged. Instinct, drilled into him since childhood, took over. He moved with the grace of Eldoria’s finest swordsmen, a whirlwind of controlled aggression. Steel clashed against steel, the jarring impact vibrating up Caius’s arm. He pressed, forcing Rhavan back a step, using speed and precision against the demon king’s greater strength. Sand sprayed beneath their boots. Sweat stung Caius’s eyes almost immediately.
Rhavan parried effortlessly, his movements economical, almost lazy. He wasn’t attacking; he was observing. Testing. Each block was solid, immovable, forcing Caius to expend energy fruitlessly. The heat in Caius’s belly pulsed, a low thrum beneath the exertion. He felt… slow. Unbalanced. His usual razor-sharp focus was fractured, distracted by the lingering tremors in his muscles, the phantom sensation of Rhavan’s hands, the insistent warmth blooming inside him.
"You fight like a man haunted," Rhavan remarked, deflecting a thrust with a flick of his wrist that sent Caius stumbling sideways. His voice was conversational, cutting through the clash of steel. "Distracted. Weak."
Caius snarled, regaining his footing and launching another flurry of strikes. "Shut up!" The words ripped out, raw. He aimed a vicious slash at Rhavan’s ribs. The demon king sidestepped, impossibly fast, and Caius’s blade whistled through empty air. Momentum carried him forward, off-balance.
Rhavan moved like shadow given form. One moment he was beside Caius, the next he was behind him. Caius felt the heat of Rhavan’s body press flush against his back, trapping Caius’s sword arm against his own chest with one powerful forearm. The other hand clamped onto Caius’s hip, fingers digging in possessively. Rhavan’s breath was hot and damp against the sensitive skin of Caius’s neck, sending shivers cascading down his spine that had nothing to do with fear.
"You’re holding back, little prince," Rhavan murmured, his lips brushing the shell of Caius’s ear. The low vibration resonated deep within Caius’s bones, stirring the nascent warmth in his belly into a sudden, sharp flutter. The sensation was startlingly intimate, a direct response to Rhavan’s proximity, his touch, his voice. "Afraid of what you might unleash?"
Caius froze. His heart hammered against his ribs like a trapped bird. Every nerve ending screamed. The rough fabric of Rhavan’s trousers pressed against the backs of his thighs. The hard muscle of Rhavan’s chest was a furnace against his spine. And lower… Caius’s breath hitched. The faint, undeniable swell of his belly – still subtle, barely more than a firmness beneath his loosened trousers – pressed flush against Rhavan’s lower abdomen. The contact was electric. It wasn't just the physical touch; it was the connection. The burgeoning life within him recognized its source, its king, and responded with a surge of warmth that flooded Caius’s core.
A choked gasp escaped him. Shame warred violently with a treacherous, undeniable spike of anticipation. His body betrayed him utterly. He didn't recoil; he arched minutely into the contact, seeking the heat, the pressure. His free hand flew back, fingers instinctively tangling in the fabric of Rhavan’s trousers at his hip, holding on as much as pushing away.
"Let go," Caius demanded, his voice strangled, lacking any conviction. He could feel Rhavan’s own arousal, hard and insistent against the small of his back. The knowledge sent another wave of heat pooling low in his own belly, feeding the flutter within.
Rhavan chuckled, a low, dark sound that vibrated through Caius’s body. His grip tightened on Caius’s hip, pulling him impossibly closer. His lips traced the tendon in Caius’s neck. "Why?" he breathed, the word hot against damp skin. "You crave it. You crave me. Feel how your body answers." He shifted his hips deliberately, grinding his erection against Caius’s lower back while simultaneously pressing his own abdomen harder against the nascent swell. The flutter inside Caius intensified into a distinct, rolling movement. A tiny ripple beneath his skin, responding directly to Rhavan’s possessive claim.
Caius whimpered. The sound was involuntary, torn from him by the overwhelming cocktail of sensation – the public humiliation, the rough stone wall just feet away, the watching warriors whose sparring had noticeably slowed, the searing heat of Rhavan’s body, the insistent pressure against his back and belly, the impossible stirring within him. Desire, raw and terrifying, surged through him, momentarily eclipsing shame and defiance. His knees trembled. His grip on Rhavan’s trousers tightened.
Across the grounds, a warrior guffawed, the sound harsh and mocking. "Looks like the princeling prefers yielding!" Another voice joined in, crude laughter echoing.
The sound shattered the fragile, dangerous spell. Humiliation crashed over Caius, cold and brutal. He jerked violently in Rhavan’s hold, a surge of desperate strength fueled by fury. "Get off me!" He slammed his elbow back, aiming for Rhavan’s ribs.
Rhavan moved faster than thought. He released Caius’s hip, catching the elbow effortlessly. In the same fluid motion, he spun Caius around, slamming him hard against the unforgiving stone wall bordering the training pit. The impact knocked the breath from Caius’s lungs. Dust puffed around them. Rhavan pinned him, one forearm braced across Caius’s collarbones, the other hand trapping Caius’s wrist high against the stone beside his head. Their bodies pressed together from chest to thigh. The faint swell of Caius’s belly pressed firmly against Rhavan’s hard abdomen once more. Their faces were inches apart.
Rhavan’s golden eyes blazed, molten fury mixing with dark, possessive hunger. His breath came fast, mingling with Caius’s own panicked gasps. The laughter from the warriors died abruptly, replaced by a watchful, uneasy silence.
"You dare?" Rhavan hissed, his voice low and deadly. "You think defiance is strength? Here?" He leaned in, his lips brushing Caius’s ear again, the intimacy jarring against the violence of the pin. "Your strength lies in surrender, Caius. In accepting what you are. What we are." His gaze dropped pointedly to where their bodies met, to the undeniable proof of the life stirring within Caius. "This," he pressed his hips forward, emphasizing the contact, "is your power now. And mine."
He released Caius’s wrist abruptly. His free hand slid down, not to strike, but to splay possessively over Caius’s lower abdomen, right over the faint swell. His touch burned through the thin fabric. The nascent clutch surged in response, a distinct, eager pulse beneath his palm. Caius gasped, his head thudding back against the stone. The conflicting sensations – the rough stone, the pinning arm, the searing touch, the internal response – were overwhelming. His body trembled violently, caught between the urge to fight and the terrifying, undeniable pull towards the heat, the connection, the promise of that impossible pleasure Rhavan alone could deliver.
Rhavan’s thumb traced the curve beneath his palm, a slow, deliberate caress that sent shivers of unwanted anticipation through Caius’s core. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a rough, intimate whisper only Caius could hear, laden with dark promise and a terrifying tenderness. "The shadows stir, little prince. They need tending." His gaze locked onto Caius’s wide, panicked green eyes. "Shall we go back below? Or shall I remind you here, against this wall, in front of them all, exactly where your strength lies?"
Rhavan’s hand remained a branding iron against Caius’s abdomen, the faint swell beneath his palm a secret map only they knew. He pressed down, not cruelly, but with a deliberate, claiming pressure. The effect was instantaneous.
Deep within Caius, the nascent shadow clutch surged like molten iron suddenly poured into a mold. The subtle firmness beneath his tunic tightened, then pushed outward with impossible speed. His stomach visibly rounded, stretching the worn fabric taut over a pronounced curve that hadn't been there seconds before. A low, throaty moan ripped from Caius before he could clamp his jaw shut, the sound raw and utterly involuntary. Heat flooded his face, a scalding tide of humiliation.
"Gods," Caius choked, squeezing his eyes shut against the watching warriors, against Rhavan’s piercing gaze, against the undeniable evidence of his own treacherous body. He tried to twist away, but the stone wall and Rhavan’s unyielding frame held him fast. His belly felt hot, impossibly full, a live thing pulsing against his spine.
Rhavan froze for a heartbeat, his molten gold eyes widening a fraction. The fury in them didn't vanish, but it was momentarily eclipsed by a shock of pure, dark fascination. He watched the fabric strain, felt the solid curve beneath his palm, heard the ragged echo of Caius’s moan. A slow, predatory smile spread across Rhavan’s face, transforming it from wrathful king to something far more dangerous, far more intimate. He enjoyed this. The power. The visceral reaction. The undeniable proof of his claim written across Caius’s body for all to see.
"Look at that," Rhavan murmured, his voice thick with a dark thrill. His thumb swept a possessive arc over the newly taut expanse of Caius’s belly, feeling the low thrum of shadow-life beneath. "So eager. So responsive." He leaned in, his lips brushing the sweat-damp hair at Caius’s temple. "Did you think your defiance could hide this truth, little prince? Your body knows its purpose. It craves its king."
Caius shuddered, the shame warring violently with the disturbing heat coiling low in his own gut, a treacherous echo of the pleasure Rhavan had shown him deep below. "N-no," he stammered, the denial weak even to his own ears. "I don't—"
"Silence!" Rhavan’s command cracked like a whip across the suddenly hushed training ground. He didn’t shout, but the absolute authority in that single word silenced every clang of steel, every murmur, every indrawn breath. He kept his burning gaze locked on Caius’s terrified, flushed face, his hand a heavy brand on the undeniable swell. "All of you." His voice dropped, cold and final. "Get out. Now. This ground is mine. The prince is mine. Leave us."
No one questioned. No one hesitated. Armor clanked, boots scuffed rapidly through the sand, a low murmur of confusion and fear rippling through the retreating warriors. Within seconds, the vast expanse of sun-baked sand and stone was deserted, save for the two figures pressed against the wall. The silence that fell was profound, broken only by Caius’s ragged breathing and the faint, dry rustle of windblown grit.
Rhavan’s attention snapped back to Caius, his expression feral, possessive. He released Caius’s pinned wrist, letting it fall limply to his side. His other hand slid from Caius’s collarbone down, tracing a hot path over his chest, dipping lower. The fingers splayed possessively over Caius’s rounded belly paused, then pressed down firmly once more, eliciting another helpless gasp as the shadows within surged against the pressure.
"If this prince desires to become bigger," Rhavan purred, his voice dropping to a dangerous, intimate rasp. He leaned his full weight against Caius, pinning him completely, the hard ridge of his own arousal grinding against Caius’s hip. His free hand moved to the laces of Caius’s trousers, fingers working with ruthless efficiency. "Filled…" His golden eyes gleamed with predatory intent, hot breath washing over Caius’s lips. "His king will happily oblige."
Caius’s mind screamed denial. Trapped. Violated. Monstrous. He opened his mouth, ready to spit curses, to fight. "Rhavan, don't—"
But his treacherous body betrayed him utterly. As Rhavan’s hand dipped beneath the loosened fabric, finding bare skin, finding the heated core of him already responding, Caius’s back arched off the sun-warmed stone. Another moan escaped, deeper this time, involuntary and undeniable. His hips pressed forward, seeking the contact, the friction, the promise of that devastating, obliterating release only Rhavan could ignite. His hands, instead of pushing away, fisted in Rhavan’s tunic, clinging. The evidence was irrefutable, written in the gasp echoing against stone, the flush spreading down his neck, the desperate press of his body against his captor’s.
The sun beat down, baking the stone wall against Caius’s back as he arched, his body a traitorous instrument playing a tune only Rhavan could hear. Rhavan’s mouth found the racing pulse in his neck, teeth scraping the sensitive skin, a sharp counterpoint to the rough hand dipping past loosened laces. Fingers closed around Caius’s aching erection, hot and demanding. A choked cry tore free, echoing in the empty training ground, raw with unwanted pleasure. "Shhh, little prince," Rhavan murmured against his damp skin, breath hot. "Let them hear your gratitude." His other hand splayed wide over Caius’s lower belly, not gentle, but claiming, possessive.
A deep, unnatural warmth bloomed beneath that palm, radiating outwards. Caius gasped, eyes flying wide as his stomach visibly tightened, the subtle curve beneath his tunic bulging outward with shocking speed. Fabric strained against the sudden, impossible swell. "Gods, no—" The protest died as Rhavan’s fingers stroked him firmly, igniting sparks that shot straight to his core, warring violently with the panic of the unnatural expansion. His belly felt hot, impossibly full, stretching taut.
"Good," Rhavan growled, biting down harder on Caius’s neck, making him jerk. He pressed his other hand down firmly, insistently, onto the burgeoning curve. The pressure forced the swell higher, harder, faster. Caius could feel the distinct shape of it now, a heavy, living weight pressing against his insides. "So eager to grow big for me," Rhavan breathed, lips moving against Caius’s ear, the words a dark caress. "Already rounding out nicely. How much larger will you stretch before the next birthing? Imagine the curve. Imagine the heaviness." His hand on Caius’s cock tightened its rhythm, ruthless and skilled. "You crave it now, don’t you? After tasting the peak I give you?"
Sweat stung Caius’s eyes, blurring the harsh sunlight. Humiliation warred with the coil of treacherous pleasure tightening low in his gut. He tried to shake his head, a feeble denial, but Rhavan’s teeth found his earlobe, nipping sharply. "Liar," Rhavan chuckled, the sound vibrating against him. His palm pressed down again on the taut swell, forcing another visible expansion. The waistband of Caius’s trousers dug painfully into the burgeoning curve. "Feel how your body answers. How it swells. How it wants. Look how eager you are to birth." He punctuated the words with a sharp twist of his wrist around Caius’s cock.
Pleasure detonated, white-hot and shattering, ripping through Caius like wildfire. His back slammed against the stone, spine arching violently. A raw, guttural cry tore from his throat, mingling with the sharp gasp forced out by the relentless pressure Rhavan maintained on his swollen belly. The clutch within surged, a frantic flurry against his inner walls, responding to the violent release. He trembled violently, pinned between the rough stone and Rhavan’s unyielding heat, consumed by the aftershocks that echoed the terrifying growth still pressing against the demon king’s hand.
His vision swam. The heavy, rounded shape of his belly under Rhavan’s splayed fingers felt alien, undeniable. Rhavan held him there, letting him feel every tremor, every pulse of fading ecstasy, every inch of the taut skin stretched over the accelerated life within. "See?" Rhavan murmured, his voice thick with dark satisfaction. He finally eased the pressure slightly but didn’t remove his hand, tracing the pronounced curve possessively. "The fear is gone now. Replaced." He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of Caius’s ear. "Replaced by need." The shadows beneath the nearby fortress walls seemed to lengthen, reaching.
The shadows stretched like grasping fingers across the sun-baked sand, silent witnesses to Caius’s trembling aftermath. Sweat slicked his skin where Rhavan still pressed him against the rough, heated stone. His heart hammered against ribs that felt too small, too confined by the sudden, impossible weight rounding his abdomen. The fabric of his trousers dug into the lower curve, a sharp counterpoint to the profound, alien warmth radiating from within.
Rhavan’s hand remained splayed possessively over the taut swell, fingers tracing slow, claiming circles. He leaned close, his lips brushing the shell of Caius’s ear. "The need burns bright now, doesn't it, little prince?" His voice was a low thrum, vibrating against Caius’s sweat-dampened skin. "After tasting oblivion. After feeling the power swell within you." He pressed down slightly, and the clutch surged in response, a distinct ripple visible beneath the strained linen. "This fullness... it calls to me."
Caius gasped, his head falling back against the unforgiving stone. Shame warred violently with the insistent, coiling heat deep in his gut – a heat that had nothing to do with the sun and everything to do with the demon king pinning him, touching him. The phantom echo of that shattering release still pulsed in his nerves, but it was dwarfed by a deeper, more urgent ache. Emptiness. A hollow craving beneath the outward swell. His body, traitorous and desperate, screamed for one thing.
His hips pressed forward, minutely, seeking friction against Rhavan’s thigh. His gaze, wide and glazed, locked onto Rhavan’s molten gold eyes. The words clawed their way up his raw throat, raw and stripped bare. "F-fingers," he rasped, the sound barely audible over the frantic pulse in his ears. His own hand fumbled weakly, pathetically, towards the laces Rhavan had already loosened. "Please... Rhavan."
Rhavan stilled. His predatory intensity sharpened, honed to a razor's edge. A slow, dangerous smile touched his lips. "Fingers?" he echoed, the word a dark caress. His gaze dropped pointedly to Caius’s swollen belly, then lower. "Where, little prince? Where do you need filling?" He knew. The taunt was deliberate, savoring the fraying thread of Caius’s control, the utter humiliation of the plea.
Caius squeezed his eyes shut, a tremor wracking his frame. The heat in his face was scalding. "Inside," he choked out, the admission a defeat more profound than any battlefield surrender. He couldn't look at him. "Need... something... inside. Fill me." The plea hung in the heavy air, obscene and undeniable. "Make it... bigger." The last word was a desperate whisper, torn from him by the gnawing void beneath the outward distension. He needed the pressure, the stretch, the connection only Rhavan could give. The paradox was maddening: swollen beyond belief, yet aching to be filled further.
Rhavan’s answering chuckle was a low rumble of pure, dark satisfaction. "As my prince commands." The hand on Caius’s belly slid down, not lifting away, but maintaining its possessive weight as the other hand dipped below the loosened waistband. Calloused fingers found heated skin, then the tight, fluttering entrance already slick with the evidence of Caius’s treacherous need. There was no preamble, no gentleness. One thick finger pressed in, deep and deliberate, breaching him with ruthless efficiency.
Caius cried out, back arching off the stone. It wasn't pain. It was a shocking, immediate fullness that speared through the strange emptiness. "Oh, gods!" His hands scrabbled uselessly against the rough wall, fingers scraping stone. The intrusion was profound, overwhelming, stretching him around the invading digit. The clutch within him surged wildly, a frantic flurry against his inner walls, as if reacting to the new presence, the sudden pressure shift.
"Tight," Rhavan murmured, his voice thick with arousal. He crooked his finger, a devastatingly precise stroke against that hidden, sensitive place deep inside. Pleasure, white-hot and electric, lanced up Caius’s spine, stealing his breath. "So desperately empty beneath this lovely swell." He pressed the finger deeper, harder, grinding against that spot. His other hand pressed down firmly on Caius’s rounded belly, amplifying the dual sensations – the deep internal stretch and the external pressure on the burgeoning life within.
"Y-yes!" Caius gasped, the word ripped from him. His hips bucked, driving himself harder onto Rhavan’s hand, seeking more of that impossible, filling pressure. "More! Please... Rhavan... more." The shame was a distant echo, drowned by the roaring need. He needed to be fuller, stretched wider, the void beneath the swell obliterated. "Bigger... make it bigger inside..."
Rhavan obliged without hesitation. A second finger joined the first, forcing its way in alongside its mate. The stretch was intense, burning, glorious. Caius sobbed, his body straining, back a taut arch against the wall. He felt impossibly full, stretched to his limit around the thick intrusion, yet the desperate craving only intensified. The fingers moved, scissoring slightly, stretching him further, rubbing relentlessly against that devastating spot. The pressure from Rhavan’s other hand remained constant, a heavy brand on his swollen abdomen.
"Feel it," Rhavan growled, his breath hot against Caius’s neck. He bit down on the tendon, a sharp sting amidst the pleasure-pain. "Feel the stretch. Feel how you take me. How you open. How you need this fullness." He thrust his fingers deep, grinding the pads hard against Caius’s prostate. "This is your purpose, Caius. To be filled. To grow large with my power. To crave it." He curled his fingers inside him, a pulsing pressure. "To need."
The coil snapped. Pleasure detonated, a cataclysm that tore through Caius with blinding force. His vision whited out. He came untouched, violently, his release streaking his own taut belly and Rhavan’s wrist, back arched impossibly off the wall. A raw, guttural scream tore from his throat, echoing across the deserted training ground, mingling with the frantic pulse of the shadows within him, surging against the pressure of Rhavan’s hand.
He slumped, boneless, held upright only by Rhavan’s unyielding grip and the stone at his back. His body trembled violently, every nerve alight. Rhavan slowly withdrew his fingers, the sensation a slow, devastating drag that drew another choked whimper. The hand on Caius’s belly slid lower, smoothing possessively over the still-prominent swell, then dipped between Caius’s trembling thighs, gathering the evidence of his release. Rhavan brought his slick fingers to Caius’s lips.
"Taste," he commanded, his voice rough with satisfaction. "Taste your need, little prince." His golden eyes burned with dark promise. "This ache? This emptiness you beg me to fill?" He pressed his palm firmly against the heavy curve of Caius’s belly once more. "It will always return. And I will always answer." He leaned down, his lips brushing Caius’s ear, the vow a dark caress in the harsh sunlight. "I will keep you full."