A Maiden’s Sacrifice Part 2 [MF]

**A Maiden’s Sacrifice – Part 2** [NSFW][MF]

[NSFW] – [MF]

Content warning – NA

[Previous part here.](https://www.reddit.com/r/WritingPrompts/comments/vgdokc/comment/id25w3y/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web2x&context=3)

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“Please,” You repeat, then to my horror you’re grabbing for your blade. “If you do this, then I’ll gladly give my life.”

“Hold on.” I hurriedly press my hand on the sharp steel, dulling it with a pulse of my magic, before I yank it out of your hands. “That’s very unnecessary.”

“But I was told that a human sacrifice—”

“Didn’t you just tell me your priests were corrupt? Why would you believe anything they told you?” My voice rises, not out of frustration for you, but more out of an itch to set all those bastard cultists on fire.

You seem to get the wrong idea and shrink from me mumbling, “They weren’t the only ones.”

“Who?”

“There was an old man who confirmed what I’d read. That you killed thousands and bloodshed was the only way to appease the Warrior Mage.”

*That was me.* Rubbing my forehead, I gave a heaving sigh. “You should know not to listen to advice from strange men.”

You tilt your head, the silky locks of your hair bouncing on your shoulder, and ask, “Does that include or exclude you?”

I’m now glaring at you. You should cower in fear.

I’ve had grown men: bulking masses of muscle with blood on their hands and generals leading armies who slayed hundreds, all cowering at my infamous icy gaze. However, your eyes scrunch in the corners, and your lips pout before you burst out laughing. It sounds like a refreshing, babbling brook, but I set my face into my scowl, trying not to be affected by you.

“What now?” I manage.

“I’m sorry, I just…” You’re smiling at me, and it’s like the sun has found its way into the keep’s corridors. You have no magic, but it doesn’t make the heat I feel any less real. “I was so scared to meet you, and so ready to die that, you know… I’m not dead and you’re here, and I offered you my mom’s cooking in the desert so…”

The way your shoulders slack as you relax back into the dozen pillows I’ve piled to the bed makes me want to be one of those pillows. I look away, embarrassed to have thought about it.

“I’d also thought you’d be taller.” You add.

“I am taller. I’m just seated.” I growl, half annoyed, half needing to focus on something not you, so I put my hand in my pocket, then felt the cool silver of your locket. “Also, I have magic, so I can be very tall.” I added before I turned the idiotic phrase in my head.

*What is happening to me?* I conclude decades of self-imposed isolation had done nothing to my conversational skills. Sure I’ve popped into the pleasure houses of the major cities once in a while, but those women weren’t interested in talking, once coin was on the table.

“Right,” you say, choking back another round of that divine laughter.

“Here,” I hand you back the necklace.

You reach to accept, but stop halfway. “You keep it. It has a photo of my family,” You’re blushing when you add, “And me.”

I don’t tell you I’ve already seen the contents while you were asleep, and that the four smiling faces in the picture reminded me of the family I’d lost too long ago. More than any enemy, time has killed everyone I ever loved and promises to do the same to you. I gulp, realizing this, and I offer to take you back to your town.

“Will you get rid of the cultists?” You ask, curious.

“Yes,” I say, getting up.

“How?”

“Magic, and maybe some swords and arrows. But probably magic. Fire’s pretty easy.” I shrug.

You’re still skeptical, “But what if you get hurt or something? The cult has the ear of the King you know.”

“My name is infamous across the lands, and you toiled hundred of miles to get here. Now you’re questioning my abilities?” I fold my arms across my chest.

“No,” You shake your head, but a guilty smirk is plastered all over that pretty face of yours.

Is it wrong that I found it cute? Or how I’m wanting to kiss that smirk off of your face so you’d take me seriously? I take a step back from the bed, reminding myself that I shouldn’t make attachments to mortals that die.

“You have your bag,” I point on the bed, and you nod recognizing it, “Here are some clothes.” I point to the chair I’d been sitting in, conjuring a dress from nothing. It was a simple spell and I try not to let your impressed gasp tug the corner of my lips any higher than my casual bland expression would allow. “There’s the bath.” I gestured to the door leading out of the room. “Come downstairs when you’re done and I’ll get you home.”

I move to leave except you ask, “Wait, what do I call you?”

“My name.” It should be obvious.Except you begin rattling off my title starting with, “Doom slayer of men…” and ends with “…Destroyer of All Things.” There’d even been a few additions in the middle that I didn’t know about. You’re clearly a fan of mine.

I haven’t used my real name since before I was cursed, and your question had me thinking before I shook myself out of it, “Call me Dom.” I toss the name to you before descending the spiral stairs to the kitchen.

You’ll probably be hungry after the bath and want to eat something. Along the walls I can hear the copper pipes tin to life with the flush of water and I’m instantly distracted by the thought of you naked in my tub.

Suddenly eggs seemed too simple of a meal because it does nothing to help distract me. I grab for other ingredients in the cupboard, ones that will calm the pulsing strain descending into my groin, focusing on ingredients: knife blade slicing through stinging onion and pummeling a garlic with the heel of my palm. Before I knew it, rabbit stew was bubbling over the fire on low and bread was baking in the hearth. The kitchen smelled heavenly, and I realized I hadn’t cooked for two in a long long while.

*Eve, has it been almost a millennium?* That name too, I haven’t thought of for ages but not nearly as forgotten as my own.

“Dom?” your voice called me out of my daze and I turned to see you wearing just a towel.

“Did the dress not fit?” I asked, too caught up on how beads of water were gathering at the tip of your hair, making little jeweled ringlets framing your perked breasts.

“No, it’s fine. It’s actually very lovely, didn’t know gold can just be…” you blushing and clutching a book in your hand with white knuckles. “Anyway, I umm, was wondering if you can sign this.” You walked over sucking in your rose pink lips and I take the volume from your hand.

‘Journey of a Thousand Suns.’ The title gleamed, along with the by line Eveleen Loza. My fingers brushed the name on the cover of the witch that cursed me.

“It’s not my book.” I said, eyes downcast. “It was her book. Eve’s journal of our time together.” I explained.

“Was her story real?” you asked, “Those years you spent together?”

I nodded, flipping through the pages. Printed was the story of how we gained power, battling monsters and men alike. How Eve and I built an empire. “This was the journey, the details of our rise. She wanted to inspire new heroes to stand up for what was right by retelling our tales.”“It worked, this book got me here,” you say.

“Heroism is cursed. Don’t try it or else you’ll end up just as doomed as me.” Closing my eyes, I could still hear the screams and chaos from the palace I once ruled, “Right after she wrote it, our friend betrayed us. Eve wanted to ensure that I lived, so she sacrificed all the magic and her life, cursing me to a world without her in it.”

“It’s not a curse,” you say, and I can feel your hand touching mine. “It’s a blessing for the rest of us who need hope.” You move closer, one hand on my face and you tip your head. There’s want in your eyes.

Desire I haven’t felt for years rush back into me like it never left and you tell me with parted lips, “I need you.” At the crush of your kiss, it felt like a dam bust open and my chest floods with your caress and your towel falls.

You’re fearless and cup your hand around the back of my neck, holding my face to yours as I part your lips with my tongue and lick, tangling yours to me. I grow hungry for more of you as my hand roams your back and lower, grabbing the plumpness of your ass. You make a little noise of affirmation as I lift you to the counter.You’re panting as I spread your legs for me, and manage, “I, umm you’d be my first.”

Which was all fine by me as my fingers felt the tip of your sex, making you pant and moan. The ahh of your pleasure is making my cock strain. Wetness spread all over my hands from fondling your clit, causes blood to rush through my system.“Oh Gods,” you groan, and I don’t know what they have to do with anything.

“Say my name,” I grunt into your ear and you do, pleading for me before I lower myself to taste you. Lapping up your wetness, your legs squeeze against my head as you convulse into pleasure before you let go, and relax. Pulsing and moaning, you’re splayed out on my counter, legs open, inviting me in.

“Please,” You say as I free my cock from the constraints of my pants and I tease you with the tip of it. But you don’t let me stay gentle, you grab me, wrapping your legs around me demanding that I’d be rough and fast, breaking you with bliss. You scream my name, demanding more.

~

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