Chapter 33

Chapter 33
Urik sat behind the large oak desk in the tower library, his fingers clenched tightly around the crumpled parchment. The candlelight flickered over the Council’s silver seal, now broken like an empty oath. Kaelen, the pale-eyed bureaucrat, had left less than an hour ago, leaving behind not only the absurd tribute demand but the weight of a veiled threat.

“I refuse,” Urik declared, his voice low and sharp, like the edge of a freshly honed blade. He tossed the document to the floor. “Let the Council shove that gold up their asses. I won’t pay to be left in peace on my own land.”

Melek leaned against the nearest bookshelf, arms crossed over his broad chest. His red eyes gleamed with barely contained hunger. The mark on Urik’s wrist pulsed in response, a throbbing heat that spread through his body like sweet poison. Ever since the demonic bond had deepened, every strong emotion from Urik fed the incubus. And the fury of this moment was a feast.

“Good choice, my lord,” Melek murmured, his voice deep and silky, laced with promise. “But all that anger… it’s making me ravenous.”

Urik lifted his gaze. The warlock felt the demon’s desire as if it were his own. The mark burned, sending waves of heat straight to his groin. He rose slowly, his body tense with adrenaline and something far more primal.

“Then come. Feed. Before I burn this entire tower down.”

Melek needed no further invitation. In two strides he was on Urik, shoving him hard against the edge of the heavy desk. Books and scrolls tumbled to the floor with a dull thud. The incubus’s hot, possessive hands tore open Urik’s dark tunic, exposing the chest marked by ancient scars and the silver rune that bound them together.

“You’re mine, Urik,” Melek growled, his curved horns brushing the warlock’s neck as he bit down on the skin just below his ear. “This fury… this power… it’s all mine.”

Urik grunted, his hands gripping Melek’s broad shoulders. He was not submissive by nature, but tonight, in this night of rage against the Council, he surrendered to the demon with savage pleasure. Melek spun him around to face the desk, pressing his chest against the cool wood. With a swift motion, the incubus yanked Urik’s trousers down to his knees, exposing the pale skin and firm curves of his ass.

Melek’s long, flexible tail coiled around Urik’s thigh, the soft tip teasingly brushing against his balls. Urik gasped as he felt the demon’s thick, hot cock press between his cheeks, already slick with the magical essence the incubus produced naturally.

“Melek…” Urik murmured, his voice hoarse.

“Shh. Let me take care of you,” the incubus whispered, biting his shoulder hard enough to leave marks. He pushed in slowly at first, inch by inch, stretching Urik with that delicious burn that always made him see stars. Once he was fully buried, Melek let out a low, guttural moan and began moving his hips with deep, brutal thrusts.

The desk creaked with every drive. Urik gripped the edge, knuckles white, feeling each stroke hit that spot inside him that made him lose control. The mark pulsed in sync, sending Melek’s pleasure back to him—a crushing double wave. The incubus leaned over his back, horns grazing his nape, one hand tangled in Urik’s dark hair while the other gripped his hip with possessive strength.

“That’s it, take it all,” Melek growled between thrusts. “Your anger tastes so good… so hot… fill me, Urik. Fill me.”

Urik pushed back, meeting every thrust, sweat sliding down his back. The wet sound of skin slapping skin echoed through the silent library, mingled with their raw grunts. Melek sped up, his rhythm turning erratic. His tail now wrapped around Urik’s throbbing cock, stroking him in time with the thrusts.

The pleasure built fast and wild. Urik felt his orgasm approaching like a storm.

It was at that moment that the library door opened with a soft creak.

Elara entered, carrying an ancient tome Urik had requested earlier. Her brown eyes widened for a second at the scene: Urik bent over the desk, Melek buried to the hilt inside him, their bodies glistening with sweat in the candlelight. She stopped, but did not retreat. As their loyal friend, she had witnessed the intensity of their bond before. It wasn’t jealousy she felt—it was a mixture of concern and silent acceptance.

Elara closed the door carefully behind her and stood there, watching, the book clutched to her chest. Her lips parted slightly, her breathing a little faster.

Melek didn’t stop. On the contrary, he smiled wickedly over Urik’s shoulder, red eyes gleaming.

“Look, love… we have an audience,” he murmured, delivering a particularly hard thrust that drew a loud moan from Urik.

Urik turned his face, his pleasure-glazed eyes meeting Elara’s. There was no shame there, only fury transformed into raw desire.

“Elara…” he managed between gasps. “Stay… or leave. Your choice.”

She didn’t leave. Instead, she approached slowly, setting the book down on a nearby chair. Her eyes followed every movement: the way Melek’s tail squeezed Urik’s cock, how the incubus bit his neck, leaving red marks that would soon turn purple. The scene was hypnotic, charged with primal power.

Melek accelerated, his rhythm growing erratic. With a low roar, he came first, filling Urik with hot jets of demonic essence that made the mark glow intensely. The extra pleasure channeled through the bond pushed Urik over the edge. He came hard over Melek’s tail and the edge of the desk, his body shaking violently.

For a few seconds, the only sound in the library was the heavy breathing of the two men. Melek remained inside him, pulsing, reluctant to pull away. Finally, he withdrew slowly, demonic seed trickling down Urik’s thigh.

Elara stepped closer then, retrieving a jar of healing ointment from a nearby shelf. Her fingers were gentle as she applied the balm to the deep bites on Urik’s shoulder and neck. Her soft magic soothed the sting, closing the shallower marks.

“You two are impossible,” she murmured, her voice low and affectionate, without judgment. “All this fury is going to destroy you before the Council even gets the chance.”

Urik straightened slowly, pulling his trousers back up while Melek settled beside him, a possessive arm around his waist. The incubus was still breathing heavily, sated but never fully satisfied.

“The Council thinks they can bend me with gold and threats,” Urik said, his voice still rough with pleasure. He looked at Elara, grateful for her calm presence. “But they don’t know what I have here. You two.”