The Lamb, the Wolf and the Devil

With his hope lost from his every effort always ending in failure, even Lorkan had tried to take control and end his own suffering. The final he'd have been successful had Apollyon not been there to stop him.

Apollyon remembered chastising his friend because of the dangerously close call. All while feeling shame and hypocritical as he'd spent a many hour contemplating it himself.

But, after endless anguish and an overwhelming loss of lives, a small mercy was granted. Anonymously, of course. Its details given be a reclusive Oracle.

A faith restoring vow that every 30 years a human female with abilities to be mated with, and bare the offspring of, an immortal male would be revealed.

She would be frozen in her prime and resistant against time's cruelties and disease. But her body still vulnerable to breakage.

The humanity and death by infliction were a token to remember the past. As well as a smug jab to the ego of Apollyon. As he still found them repulsive and ant-like.

Regardless of this, like a great rain upon a desolate wasteland, Mar A Gealladh was celebrated.

Translation: as promised.

That promise had been broken over and over, however. And Apollyon was growing weary of being made a fool of.

Chapter Three: At Last

Lorkan parted the bodies that crowded where he knew she waited. The onlookers strained to get a better look, and he was beginning to get impatient with their pushing and shoving.

" 'scuse me. Let me through, please," he fought to keep his composure.

Lorkan was well known amongst them, as was Apollyon. But unlike his domineering, grouchy friend, Lorkan didn't typically use his larger body and fearsome reputation as a means to get what he wanted. But nothing about today was typical.

"Ek-Excuse," he groaned and ran his tongue across the backside of his teeth in frustration.

The crowd suddenly pushed left and into Lorkan, nearly knocking him off balance.

"Hey! You squat, knuck-draggin' fucks! Watch where the fuck you're going!"

With his normally kind mannerism literally pushed around, he'd abandoned his gentleness.

He snorted and his jaw twitched as he returned a hard shove from a saber shifter. The saber snarled. Lorkan emitted a deep warning growl and the saber backed away.

Apollyon would love to see him like this. He'd have the time of his life eggin' him on, he thought.

He continued with even more haste and determination as he caught a whiff of something. The atmosphere was alive and the excitement evident in the air. It pricked the skin on his chest and awakened his every nerve.

And every hair stood on end as a dull sensation caused his cock to twitch.

Catching a glimpse of lagoon-blue eyes, set perfectly on an angelic face, he found another surge to push himself forward faster. He tried to control his excitement and curiosity but adrenaline and testosterone, mixed with an animalistic urge, slowly began taking over.

Apollyon's words came to his mind like bad news on a perfect day. "It's true because you wish it so badly to be."

He didn't want to allow himself to be let down. But this was different... she was different. He could feel it.

He had wished it, and she'd finally been granted to him. She was here! Not an illusion. Not a dream. He just had to-

A hard shove from his right tore him from his mission. Muscles rippled as a beast snapped its jaws and trembled in rage.

A lumbering Gargoyle, in his human form, scowled at Lorkan. Before turning, he gave a dismissive, disrespectful snort and wedged his way through the same path Lorkan had been walking.

That was the last straw that crumpled the beat's civility.

Lorkan's mouth opened to allow his fangs to elongate and to release a bone-vibrating roar.

The horde parted instantaneously. Bodies scrambled and fell over one another in attempts to escape the danger mostly heard but not yet seen.

Some of the braver, stronger males, mostly bear and saber shifters and of course lycanthropes and guardian types, such as the gargoyles, took a stance and prepared for a fight.

But quickly averted their eyes and backed away as the realization of who it was came to them. Lorkan rarely picked fights. But when he did...

Lorkan glowered at the gargoyle that started it all, waiting for a move. Any show of aggression and he'd attack.

The gargoyle tilted his head, as if he were arguing with himself with what he should do next. A rumble from Lorkan's chest accompanied by a sickening snap from a dislocated bone as he allowed more of himself to morph, seemed to shake him from his indecisiveness.

The gargoyle averted his eyes and cowered into the safety of the others.

Lorkan's eyes closed and his big chest expanded as he tilted his nose into the air and breathed in that deliciousness once more. With all the bodies crowding the area, he'd just got a tease ever so often.

However, now he wasn't pressed between the others and his nearness finally made him able to really taste the scent. It was what he needed.

He roared once more and marched on.

"MOVE!" He bellowed and snapped at the stragglers struggling to obey fast enough. He willed the beast to retreat and his face and body returned to their usual handsomeness and his gentle giant nature resurfaced as he trucked forward.

All of a sudden, he stopped dead in his tracks. Though his facial expression softened and muscles relaxed a bit, he was mostly readied for battle of a different kind. Through the opening, just footsteps away, his strategy shifted from dominate and overpower, to protect and claim.

His body became simultaneously softer and more alert as he neared her. She was naked with her feet tucked under her and her eyes were fixated on something just behind him. He'd thought to turn around and challenge whatever it was that widened them, but the glaze in them reminded him she was under a veil of calm. Otherwise, she'd be hyperventilating and erratic.

He had finally reached where the crowd stopped, and paused where the small, vacant area that surrounded the offering bed began. Her eyes immediately locked onto his and he listened to her body's calling.

As he approached, he absentmindedly began removing his clothing. She sat motionless, but her chest worked harder as her breathes shortened and grew in tempo. She was excited.

This was good, very good.

He stood in front of her now, wracking his eyes over her small body, hips slightly wider than proportion, small breasts. Noticing the goosebumps, he was thrilled his nearness inflicted a similar reaction in her that she she had on him.

Their eyes never leaving one another's, Lorkan leaned forward and reached behind her to untie her wrists and she laid her hand in her lap. They were dwarfed by his own. Everything about her was dwarfed by him.

And suddenly, he worried if he was frightening her. If he'd mistook excitement for fear. Right now, he seemed to be a slave of his own emotions and, perhaps, they'd clouded his senses.

He leaned back to give her a bit of space, but close enough he could drink her in with all his senses. All but touch. He hoped she'd initiate that.

Disregarding his pounding heart and straining lungs, he forced his breaths to slow and even. He wanted her to find the sound more like a lullaby than a predator anticipating a meal.. anything to present himself as less of a threat, and more as a doting lover.

He noticed her fingers twitch, but made it appear as if he hadn't with the absence of a reaction. Her eyes were almost clear of the glaze and he, again, fought to not react as her eyes fluttered to his lips then back. Take it easy, don't scare her, he reminded himself.

"It's okay." His reassurance just above a whisper.

Within his words she must have found bravery. She lifted her hands and placed them on either side of his head. Lorkan leaned into them, lovingly nudging his approval and gratification.

His body stiffened and he willed himself to uncoil as she brushed her lips against his. It was gentle and unsure.

He couldn't help but gently nudge her nose with his.

When her eyes closed, he pressed his forehead to hers and gently nudged and rubbed her; like a lion welcoming a member of his pride. And at 6'11, 240 lbs of muscle, Lorkan, began to purr.

He found it strange. He'd never heard himself produce such a sound. But he dare not stop as it seemed to sooth her

She leaned more into him. His eyes shot open as he felt her nip his bottom lip. He was waiting for her consent and that was it. He took her commandeered her lips with his, his body coming alive like he'd never imagined possible. He smiled between his smothering kisses as she pushed up to meet him in equal enthusiasm. And he chuckled when her shoulders shivered in a heat induced cold-chill.

"I won't hurt you," he said between his kisses that grew more pushy and a little rougher, "Never... never hurt you".

He pushed her down and climbed over her.

"Roll over," he commanded.

She hesitated.

"Don't fear me. No pain will ever come from me."

His breaths were ragged and his body taunt. But even with the rumble from his chest, and the gentle scraping of his teeth against her skin, she trusted and obeyed.

As he ravaged her while she lay flat on her belly, Lorkan was made aware of something-

"What is your name, mo chroí?"

"Relic," she whispered.

"Mmm, perfect. A treasure you are, and treasured you will be, mo chroí," he spoke against her spine as he followed its path with kisses.

"What does that mean?... mor cree?"

He snickered as he reached the curve of her neck, "Mo chroí," he restated,

" 'means my heart".

"Why would you call me that?"

" 'Thief of my heart, keeper of my soul,' seemed a bit like overkill for a pet name," he said as he coaxed her milky thighs apart.

Chapter Four: Potent

He felt the bed shift as she lifted the upper half of her body and turned her head to speak to him, "but wh-," she gasped and shook as he laid a love nip on her hip.

" It's as fitting as your birth name," he answered pushing her thighs wider.

She had a moment to think as he seemed to stall. She didn't remember much, didn't even remember how she got here.

....Or how the rugged, handsome man, but a stranger no less, made her feel like being naked in front of him was as natural as if he'd shook her hand or asked 'how she was likin' this weather?'

The fact she was putty in his hands wasn't unnoticed, either.

She noted her surroundings as well;

The room appeared dome in shape and dark in color, it's texture almost ghostly. It reminded her of the black liquid surrounding the dye in an 8 ball that gave you repetitive answers to different questions. And occasional glints of silver or shapes and colors, that reminded her of a galaxy, appeared here or there.

She thought it was beautiful and focused on what seemed like tiny shooting comets and dying stars.

"Nnuh... Oh god!"

Her hands twisted in the sheets, her toes curled and she laid her head back down on the soft bedding. She felt his hand snake up her rib cage. It was so large it made her feel like she was just a dolly, and that he could play with her however he liked.

But she wasn't afraid of him. Quite the opposite, actually.

Lorkan drug his tongue gently across her sensitive folds. Then once again, a little more forceful. And, just as he'd anticipated, her hips began to rise and her knees began to bend.

He groaned as he feasted on her and wondered if she could tell he was smiling against her skin when she gave him a shiver.

The hand he'd held her waist with moved under her belly. With her hips tilted and lifted off the bed, her cheek pressed against the soft bedding with her hands gripping a fist full on either side, she was finally in the position he'd wanted her.

With the hand on her belly, he used its thumb to press against her clit. He growled when he felt her produce ever more wetness for him. He also knew it would vibrate her insides and encourage more.

His other arm shot out like a bullet to steady her when her legs quivered and her hips began to fall to the side. Her moans and breathing became more needy and high-pitched. She was close, he could tell.

His cock was rock-solid and with her body so much smaller than his, he had to make sure she was wetter and more relaxed than she'd ever been. He had a slight twinge of anger and jealousy at the thought of her being wet for anyone before him. He shook off the thought.

He pressed her harder against him and tilted his face from side to side, growling all the while. She shrieked and her back arched more. He could feel her lower pelvic muscles harden and strain under his palm that held her there.

Almost.

Something primal suddenly woke in Lorkan, something he'd never quite experienced before. It had taken over momentarily, and he pulled her into him even harder. Slurping and licking, he fed on her like an animal; forcing her body to give him what he wanted.

"Lorkan! Oh g- Ahh! Lorkan!"

If he hadn't been holding her she would have buckled.

His name on her lips brought him back to his gentleness and he lovingly kissed and gently licked her as her orgasm slowly worked it's way through her body.

Wait, his name... he hadn't told it to her. How did she-

"Lor-Lorkan. Please... please."

He'd inquire about that later. Right now she needed him. Her pleading and need to satisfy her every want, no matter the request, felt heavy on his chest... and somewhere else.

Still in her same position of ass up, head down he climbed over top of her, his body completely covering hers. Her lifted bottom nested perfectly against his hips. And everywhere his skin touched hers felt aflame but also consoled. It was peculiar, this feeling of overpowering lust mixed with the antidote for the perpetual hurt he'd felt for centuries. One thing was certain amongst all of this uncertainty, however:

She was a goddess. And he'd worship her as such.

"Mo chroí," he whispered when she pushed back against him and gasped as his hardness rubbed against her bundle of nerves, " I'm so much larger than you and I dare not hurt you".

She groaned in protest, then shivered as he nipped and kissed her shoulders with a chuckle.

Silly goddess, I'm not implying we don't.

"I'm going to push myself a little inside you," he had to grit his teeth when she wiggled her bottom in encouragement... keeping control was crucial to him... and her.

But goddamn if she wasn't going to make it easy.

"I'm giving you control, mo áilleacht," he brushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck. She wiggled again. He stilled and a deep grumble bellowed from his chest.

Yet again, she wiggled and pressed her bottom against him harder. While it made him happy his growls didn't frighten her, he realized she was now so comfortable she was beginning to toy with him.

He nipped her ear and his hand moved down her side, then came between the parts he wanted himself buried deeply inside her. He gently pushed two fingers in and the amount of resistance he found both excited and terrified him.

She squealed. He purred.

"You take as much as you can and no more," his tongue rolled across the crook of her neck and he bit down gently, "And trust that I'll know when your.... body is having difficulty acclimating".

He slowly removed his fingers and coated her entrance with it, then the head of his dick. His mouth latched onto her shoulder as he pushed 3 inches, just a little over a fourth of himself, inside her.

He could tell she moaned in pleasure at the sensation of being filled. But his own deep groan of detainment stopped it from reaching his ears.

He released her neck after tasting blood and kissed the scorned flesh apologetically. Every ounce of him wanted to reattach his fangs there and plow into her until he was satisfied she was overflowing with him. But he couldn't. Not yet- he could hurt her badly.

Her body quaked beneath him. He was afraid to move; holding onto his control by thread.

She, too, remained motionless from the tiny bolts of lightning that came from the part of him embedded within her.

Jelly. Her legs were jelly. They were useless.

Every time she'd tried to fill herself more with him, they'd shake uncontrollably.

"Lorkan," she breathed. And he growled in satisfaction of hearing her say his name,"I-I can't move".

"mo áilleacht-"

"I wish you would use words that I understand."

She cut him off. While every word he spoke seemed to roll over her like melted butter, she wanted to know what he was saying.

She shivered and moaned as he dug his tongue between her shoulder blades.

She felt his massive forearm ensnare her upper body, just below her breasts.

"Forgive me," she felt him breath against her neck as he chuckled. Then goosebumps decorated her body once again, "it's my native tongue".

No need for apologies, she thought.

"What does it mean?"

Her squeal tapered to a moan when he gave her neck a love-nip and squeezed her body harder against him.

"My beauty."

She realized his hug's purpose was not merely for affection. He'd lifted her, not quite suspending, but enough that her weakened thighs no longer bared the brunt of her weight.

He was helping her so she could fuck herself with his body... All because he refused to take charge and assume the dominant role -which he was clearly capable of- out of fear that he'd inflict pain on her.

She kissed, then gently nipped his forearm supporting them both near her head. The thick, straining muscles twitched in reaction; it reminded her of a fleshy pillar.

She traced a bulging vein there and admired his strength a bit longer than she should have then snuggled back against his chest when she felt his lips and heard the unmistakable sound of adoring kisses dabbling her shoulders, back and head.

.... What parallel, chivalry-based dominion has he been raised in? Where had he been this whole time? Her whole life?

Something began to grow in her chest and burn the back of her eyes. She was suddenly made more aware of how he surrounded- no- cocooned her. She'd never felt more safe.

She'd never felt more wanted- needed.... Worshiped.

All reason was replaced by desire and a connection to this man she'd probably never fully understand. She didn't care where she was, where he took her, or even if she were held in this room her whole life.... As long as she was with him, she'd be okay.

She forced her muscles to life, then shook her body out of whatever sexual paralysis he'd caused in her. And slowly, driven by a need to please him and quench the thirst her womb had grown for the thick liquid stored in his heavy sac, she slid down his shaft.

She'd never been so heated and excited about a man cumming inside her before.

A chill ran through her and she shivered at the thought of his massive apparatus embedded deeply inside her. The soft flesh of his bulbous head massaging her cervix and kissing her uterus as it delivered his essence within her.

She wanted him to impregnate her. She'd find no honor greater than carrying his child.

She pushed back against him even harder, forcing more of him inside. His hold on her tightened, then he bit down on her shoulder. Making her long, velvety groan hitch in a squeal.

She heard the sound of rustling fabrics and looked to where it was coming from; the hand that had laid flat on the bed before, now fisted and wrung the blankets. It was obvious he was fighting for control.

The place where his teeth broke her skin pulsated little waves of pain into her. But she welcomed the contrast to the bliss she felt beginning To build, however, if she didn't know any better, she'd think his teeth had gotten bigger... sharper.

Lorkan whispered sweet coaxes and mumbled hoarse curses as she continued to slide her fragile channel down him. She listened to the thundering heartbeat from his chest that seemed to overpower her own. It was as if there was no more "he and she" but "them and they".