"I want to know who you are," she says, her tone firm, but softness cracks through.

She's intrigued.

"I'm Az," I say, hesitating to hold out my hand to shake hers. I have a feeling that if our fingers touch, something will jolt through me, and I'll yank her close to sit in my lap.

If she's that close to me, there's no telling what I'll do to her.

Too soon.

She wants it too. She's leaning forward, pressing her heavy bosom against the table, then angling back to study me with her sharp gaze, her eyebrows angled.

I've never seen anything so incredibly beautiful, but so frustrating.

The way she makes me feel, the pulsations she causes in my lower half are painful. I have to resist her for my plans to work.

"I'm Dru," she says, tilting her head and squinting. She, like me, prefers to go by a nickname, for reasons unknown. "But that's not what I meant."

I don't need her real name to get into her heart and tear it to shambles. I can still whisper to her all the pleasurable things I plan to do, then rip her feelings from her chest before she has a chance to realize what's happening.

This is it. This is her. The one I'm meant to start this entire process with. I still can't figure out why she's so magical, so enticing, but the hunch won't leave me alone, prodding at me.

"I understand, but I figured we should start with some way of identifying one another. So...Dru," I say, letting the name roll off my tongue. "That's lovely."

She purses her lips, assessing me. She's not unhappy with what she sees, I know; but she's hesitant to let her feelings for me bloom.

Good. You should be afraid.

Part of the process of heart-breaking is to give, give, give...then suddenly take it all away, before coming back to give more. I have to dig deep, ensure she's obsessed with me before I disappear, and only return when she's on the verge of losing her mind.

Then I give in to her. Allow her to wrap me up in her desire, coerce her into succumbing to my lips, my tongue, my cock.

From the way she keeps staring at my crotch, I can tell she's eager for that last part.

I'm ready to obey my master's plans—woo, work up, fuck, then abandon—but my urges are strong, getting the best of me. The more I watch her wiggle about, drawing attention to her exquisite body, the more I want to say fuck it and have her, right here. Without delay.

The ways I could bend her over, slide her skirts up, and insert myself into her—endless possibilities. I envision her screams of pleasure, her pleas for me to keep thrusting, harder, deeper, faster.

She's a naughty one, it's evident in her lip-licking, eye-fucking, taunting mannerisms.

But I can't cave yet. I must heed the rules.

"Az," she says, elongating the two letters of my nickname. "Interesting name. Where is it from? Where are you," she furrows her brows, "from? You've still not told me."

I clear my throat. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me," she says, her teeth scraping over her lower lip.

It's an invitation. And it's increasingly difficult to imagine leaving this decadent woman alone, but I have to resist. It'll throw everything off balance if I don't.

My urges must wait.

She's something else. Something I've never learned about. Something Bazroth didn't give me knowledge on. She presents as human, but there's more to her, internally. That pure heart, the energy radiating off her...

The feelings she wakes in me are powerful. Complicated.

Arousing.

I got familiar with arousal this week as I explored Hazelvale; but the arousal she causes is on another level. It's so unfamiliar yet warm and fuzzy and delectable.

My leg jitters as I try to overcome my impulses.

What is she to drive me so crazy? Maybe she's a goddess in disguise, which would explain why her aura is so stringent with love, purity, yet so tainted with lust. And drenched in sex-appeal.

I know of no other beings able to stir me so. Goddesses...or mages? I vaguely remember getting flashes of these particular individuals as I woke to Bazroth's voice.

But he didn't educate me on them, or any other magical beings I might encounter.

Goddess, then.

I have to assume she's smarter and stronger than me. This is her domain. If she is indeed magical, she likely has many years of experience over me. It'd be easy for her to rope me in as I attempt to set up my trap for her.

I must ignore my desire and focus.

"So you want me to guess, then?" She taps a finger to her darkly colored lips, puckering them. "A game."

I nod, though the game I want to play is best started with minimal clothing. Played with lips and tongues and teeth, with joined hands and bodies covered in sensual sweat.

"Fine," she says, taking a swig of her ale that she brought with her from the bar.

Drinking beer and not wine? This turns me on more. I admire a woman who can guzzle down the frothy bubbles of an ale. It draws more intrigue. Most women I met in Hazelvale sip on reds and whites, light, watered down whiskeys, fruity cocktails, or they don't drink at all.

This woman takes large gulps of ale like her life depends on it, and it's sexy.

But if I truly want to seduce her, blacken her heart, spread the disease, it's my game's rules that I must follow. Otherwise Bazroth will be enraged with me.

I can't upset my king.

"You know the best way to guess where a man is from?" she asks, batting her lashes at me as she lowers her cup.

She's teasing; but I'll bite. "No, but tell me, Dru."

"Taste," she says, without missing a beat. She stands, taking her time so I can admire every curve; her rounded buttocks, her gorgeous thighs, the peak of her breasts.

"Taste?" I feign surprise when she walks around the table and lowers before me, kneeling.

My skin is covered in goosebumps as I imagine her kneeled in a different setting. In front of my cock, her mouth opened to take me in entirely.

My member throbs in anticipation. Soon.

"If you'll allow, I can demonstrate," she says, gesturing at my lips, then hers. "I'd need to...uh...sample you."

"Sample me?" I salivate, my need growing. "As in...kiss me?"

She smirks, lowering her gaze in feigned embarrassment. "Forgive me if it's too forward, but I've always gathered so much from how a man tastes—"

I lift her chin and return her smirk. "I won't deny you, my lady. I believe taste is quite informative."

I expect her to continue with her innocent act, but instead she sets her hands on my thighs—inches from my painful cock—and heaves herself up.

She places her lips on mine, and everything blurs. All sound muffles, the world fades. Her lips are so plump, so pure, I can barely stand it. All I feel is her softness, her tongue finding its way into my mouth. Wrapping around my tongue, absorbing it, taking it hostage.

She tastes like forbidden fruit; sweet, tangy, tantalizing. She drips with lust, and I slurp up every ounce of it.

When she breaks away, removing her hands from my thighs, I'm out of breath. The way she looks at me—arousal glistening in her eyes, chest heaving up and down with heavy inhales and exhales—shows me she, too, was caught off guard by the intensity of our kiss.

"My," she says, dabbing her fingers at the corners of her mouth. "That was informative, like you said."

"Was it?" I try not to chew on my lower lip.

"More than I thought," she declares, straightening up, shaking out her skirts. "I need a moment in the powder-room."

I doubt there is a powder-room in this tavern, but she knows it better than me. "By all means," I say, winking. "You've got me curious, my lady."

"I'm no lady." She turns her body, but keeps her face in profile, her grin sneaky, sassy. Irresistible. "Dru is enough."

She flurries off behind a shabby curtain near the counter, and that's when I realize—we're alone. The barkeep is who-knows-where, and the remaining patrons have vanished for the night.

It's my perfect moment to sneak out. No one is there to question me, or to tell her what made me go.

I hurry, as quiet as possible despite my heavy-set frame, and grab my cloak. I peer at the curtain that she disappeared behind, wince, and open the door, stealing outside.

It's hard not to touch my cock to soothe it. Find an alleyway somewhere and release all my desire to calm the pain. But if I succumb, what's stopping me from running back to the bar and fucking her on the counter?

From the way that kiss ended, from the passion in her every move and word, she won't stop me. She'll beg me for it.

"Not yet, Azath," I say to myself, letting the cold seep into my bones, bring me back to reality.

She's an enchantress. Skilled with seduction, and her flavor is that of absolute sin, though she radiates purity. It's so conflicting, and yet...I want her more because of it.

"No," I say, shaking my head as I put more distance between myself and this sorceress of a woman. "I'm a demon, and my goal is not to fall for her. It's to make her fall for me."

I hasten across town to the small room I'm renting at an inn with a view of the opulent castle to the east. My cock aches so hard I'm not sure I can make it through the night.

Tomorrow, I need to be sharp and in control when I go to Bazroth and tell him what I found.

And to ask him about this woman's particular type of magic. He'll be as intrigued as me, and perhaps he'll want me to get started with her straightaway. Put all my might and power behind this seduction and do with her as I please.

For as long as I please. Anything to get the job done.

My mouth waters at the notion.

Wordcount: 1,689
TOTAL: 12,229