Skyrim is property of Bathesda, I own nothing, all that stuff. Enjoy. Hope I did everything good.


It was no secret Molag Bal and Boethiah hated each other. Of all the Daedric lords tension was short between them, almost non-existent. But of the two, the highest levels of hatred rested on the broad shoulders of the Lord of Domination himself.

Even in his plane of Coldharbour he felt no sense of relief from his sowing of the seeds of discord over Tamriel. The fiery skies kept his hatred blazing with life when the tiniest hint of dying made itself known, and the bitter air reserved the coldness of his very being; nothing could ease the scorn of a Daedra. Molag didn't see anything that he could use as relief for the fire scorching within him, despite his realm being a reflection of the mortal world. It lacked so many things including mortals for him to personally smite.

The frozen zephyr swept past him, sending a chill through the body of the Daedric lord. His eyes scanned over the sludgy landscape of his oblivion plane, and for the very slightest second he felt jealous of Clavicus Vile. A small wave of spread from his horns to the tips of his clawed toes; neither chill nor heat, the demon's hands curled into tight clenched fists that stabbed his claws into the scaly palms of his perfidious hands.

Molag Bal loved nothing more than to bring suffering down upon the frail bodies of mortal men. There was nothing more exile rating than that, watching a powerful warrior squirm like a frightened little boy, or a young woman weeping for mercy. For Molag Bal it was like the elating sexual bliss one experiences before climax when every muscle in your body feels lighter than air, and it quickly becomes so delightful a sensation you want nothing more than to experience it again and again and again.

For Molag Bal it was just that.

The Lord of Domination claimed the lives of many over the years like any Daedra lord, but Logrolf the Willful was one he favored as a personal trophy. Every moment his yellow eyes would fall upon the old priest he felt triumph over Boethiah. She was greatly infuriated by this, he was quite sure of it, but it didn't leave him satisfied; he still wanted to see her anger, crying vengeance against him. That would please the prince the most.

Molag Bal never tired to concern himself about Boethiah's affairs, but he did keep his guard up at all times. Boethiah loved to catch her foes when they were least expecting it and he certainly was no exception. She treated it like a game, but to him it was a nuisance that he eventually grew used to.

The sludge splashed like puddles at his feet. To a mortal Coldharbour would feel like a torturous death of fire and ice. The prince loved it. His spectral servants wandered the realm like lost ghosts trying to find a new purpose for themselves. Even in death they continued to live in fear, cowering in the dark corners of the dead ruined cities of the twisted dead version of Nirn away from those that would crush and overpower them. Molag was greatly pleased.

"Only the strong prevail. They bathe in the blood of the weak and worthy…feasting upon their souls and fueling their corruption…"

The Imperial City stood ruined and dilapidated, the golden city a deep dark dreary color that matched the rest of the realm in every way. The Daedra could feel the chill coming from the palace as he entered the main hall, but he felt something else…

He could feel her power about him. Her presence; he could feel it. Molag Bal's teeth grinded together and a snake-like hiss came out of him, echoing through the empty halls. The deepest depths of Oblivion could not house the deep-seated abhorrence the Daedra had for each other. The ancient rivalry never saw any sign of extinguishment; as time went on the flame only got bigger to consume both Daedric lords and rival the very anger the divines had for Lorkhan. But they could not destroy each other. There would be no thrill to ending her for good like there would be to dominate the Lord of Plots, beat her down into submission in a pool of her own blood. Nothing else would give him the sense of ultimate dominance.

His footsteps echoed eternally through the palace, his claws clicking softly on the cold floor. Dust and small bits of stone fell from the ceiling like an unstable mine shaft. Boethiah was hiding from him. The scales of Molag Bal's muscular reptilian body glimmered in the dull light, his long tail swaying back and forth behind him like a snake slithering stealthily like a snake in the tall grass of the Tamriel plane. His soul continued to blaze within him as his anger soon turned to annoyance and impatience.

"Reveal yourself Boethiah…my patience is growing thin." Molag's deep and cruel voice showed his intolerance for Boethiah's game. "A worm like you is not worth my time…"

There was a feminine chuckle of amusement, followed by a surge of power pulsing through the walls of the Imperial palace. He was too familiar with this that it made a smile curve over his snout. Boethiah was no fool, she could not resist a challenge; it would be her undoing. His pulse began to increase as he came to face the stoic warrior materialized behind him. The air fell silent and the sphere took a harsh chill that reflected their current mind-sets.

Boethiah. Just the sight of her made his blood pump hard. She wore the shadows like a cloak, her blood-red cape draped over her armored shoulders. Boethiah always managed to save her best for him; she was fierce, but even one could not surpass the other. The princes waited for the moment when one would break and be trumped by the other.

"So you're here…" The voice of Molag Bal was sinister, hateful, and full of spite. The powerful and demonic mace for which he was known became visible in his hand from a cloud of thick dark smoke. "You're trying me Boethiah..."

As she stood there Molag could see she came in the form of a woman; still powerful, but even Molag Bal was affected by the alluring manifestation of Boethiah. Her deep red eyes scanned over the hybrid look of the Prince of Domination. She held her large war axe in front of her spread legs, and much to her enjoyment his eyes followed down.

"You're starting to catch on...and maybe this time I can cut you down where you stand…" Facing him like this and putting his very dominance to the test brought strong warmth in her loins. She was very confident this would be the fight that would bring him to his knees like the lizard he is and put him in his place; they both wanted the same outcome from the other's fall.

He wanted to wipe the grin off her face, even if he had to bash her in the head with his mace to do so. He held the hilt in both hands, his fingers wrapped tightly around the hot metal. One could swear he was blowing fire from his nostrils; his anger and pure hatred for her was growing, heightening to where he could no longer take it. The Daedric prince roared as he charged, his mace aimed right for her face. He needed to feel cold metal against flesh. He desired to dominate her to her breaking point, but as his mace collided with her axe he felt himself being pushed back.

"Damn you...I swear I will dominate you..." Molag Bal's voice was full of fiery fury, as fiery as the sky of Coldharbour. Boethiah struck the floor with the hilt of her axe. Her heartbeat raced as fast as it possibly could. She could feel the heat radiating off him, it was an intense anger, incredibly inhumane that even Mehrunes Dagon could not generate it from his cold dead heart.

"Molag." She spoke through her teeth, and before she could say more he attacked once more. Boethiah was the one taken off her guard as a sharp pain flared through her shoulder. Her shoulder plate was smacked hard, still causing her pain. She glared fiercely at the lizard and pushed him away with a hit to his neck with the end of her axe. Molag felt as if his throat had collapsed, but his insides were yelling at him, telling him to hit her again; again and again until she fell!

The pain in his chest brought him back to attention as streaks of red appeared on his chest and stomach, and only until he managed to block did he stop a hit aimed to decapitate him. He grabbed the long neck of the weapon and yanked Boethiah close, the prince almost losing her footing.

"You will notdefeat methat easily…" His breath rasped, his long tongue wetting the corners of his snout. Red eyes met malicious yellow ones and if looks could kill she would be dead ten times over. She gritted her teeth as she held onto the axe with an iron grip. His blood flowed freely but slowly, his body starting to shake as he raised his mace up and brought it down upon her shoulder again.

Boethiah let out a cry of pain as she was hit hard. Molag Bal flipped the Daedra around and for a split second she didn't know what happened until an intense surge of pain hit her, starting at the back of her neck. She collapsed to her knees and gasped in pain and anger, her eyes blazing as she glared up at him.

"You…you think you're dominant…over me…" she growled her hand clenched over her chest as she struggled to her feet. "I…will kill you Molag Bal…"

The heat in the chamber was intense and for a moment neither made a move to attack. Their weapons splotched with blood and covered in wounds, the hate seemed to reach its high point. Metal clanged together once more. The strained muscles of Molag Bal flexed with each swing, letting out intense roars that shook the palace. His insatiable need to dominate her was getting the best of him, controlling every swing and bash he made, ignoring the cuts he sustained.

Boethiah's vision grew blurry as she attacked and blocked, her body covered in sweat and blood. The long cloth between her legs was torn in several areas and started to fall away, but she did not even notice this. Her hands ached and she grew sore where she was cut, and as her axe made contact with hard force she began to wonder how much longer he could last.

Molag Bal's insides were scorched by his inner flames. Boethiah's strained and undeniably enthralling body was really getting to him, mostly the heat was making things harder to focus on. Break her, dominate her…make her beg for mercy, he told himself. His fangs gritted hard, he could sense something coming from Boethiah. He couldn't take it. He was going to drive himself insane before he would defeat her this way. He blocked her next attack, and then pushed her away with enough force that her axe dropped to the floor.

What happened the next moment was something neither expected. Molag Bal tossed away his axe before he suddenly tackled her, pushing her down to the floor. Boethiah grunted in surprise and pain, glaring up at him as she quickly started to struggle. The heat coming off his scaly muscular frame was intense and she could feel it on the bare areas of her body. She hit and punched at him, the serpent wincing at the hits.

Molag growled at her, his eyes probing every part of her as he pulled her up as quickly as he pushed her down, and then threw her against the wall. Boethiah grunted in pain and anger, and then found herself pinned against the wall. She couldn't speak, she was too busy growling in anger at the prince and struggling to escape his grasp, disgusted by the fact that he was even this close to her, pressing on her in this sensual of a way. Not from this disgusting Daedra who called himself a prince.

"Whatare you doing...?" She growled hard, her cheeks flushing hard when she felt him starting to feel her. Then, to her immense surprise, he suddenly ripped her covering off from her waist. Boethiah gasped before she was pushed into the wall. The fact that she was now naked from the waist down was embarrassing enough, the warmth suddenly pressing on her made the demon angry and even more so.

Boethiah winced sharply as she was fully pressed against the wall. She felt clawed hands feeling around her lithe hips and in response she pushed her hands hard on him and tried to push him back with her power. Unsuccessfully breaking his hold on her, he turned her around and pushed her hard, her breasts mashing uncomfortably on the stone. Warmth touched the back of her leg. She became even angrier at the vile reptile. Struggling made Molag Bal push on her harder.

The adrenaline of battle was still on her and he could smell it. She wanted to fight him weapon-to-weapon, he knew that. He could feel her power building up; he was always so amused by her attempts to overthrow him. The outcomes were always more pleasing that way. He grabbed at her waist and clawed at her skin, the prince wincing at how it felt. He breathed on the back of her neck, and she could hear just how aroused he was getting. Aroused; not an unusual word when applied to the Lord of Rape.

As he continued to claw at her skin and leave streaks of red along her feminine form, making its way down her side and tracing along her thigh. Boethiah dug her nails into a cut in his chest and Molag Bal growled in pain, his fangs clamping down hard from the harsh pain. She wanted him away from her so she could kill him for good. Molag Bal could not and would not accept this. The powerful Daedra prince rammed her against the wall. He would dominate her and stand for nothing less.

His breath was rank on her face as he turned her to face him again, – which really annoyed and angered Boethiah – his slit eyes narrowing. Boethiah wasn't afraid of him. Her nails digging into him again, she pushed as hard as she could and forced him off her, the dragon staggering back before falling to the floor.

"I swear I will kill you!" She shrieked, reaching for her axe. Molag Bal hissed hard as he kicked her leg hard, and the next thing Boethiah knew she was on top of him. She cried out in sudden pain as she was yanked up by her long silver hair, then flipped over on her back with Molag Bal on top of her. His vile hands were around her neck, lightly squeezing her throat. She hated him more than ever, her red eyes burning with her hatred. He just stared back, his eyes delving into her soul. As his face came down to hers her eyes clenched tightly as he started to bite her lip.

Boethiah felt blood on her lips, sharp teeth becoming stained with her very dark life essence. She grinded her teeth and thrusted her knee up into him, which only made him bite again. She winced hard at the pain. Their power started to build together, Molag Bal shivering hard at the feel. He wanted her, dominate and overtake her.

She wanted to cut him to pieces as he straddled her lower thighs, and even he realized this, and he wondered if she was playing another game with him; she was more than capable of overpowering him. His knee forced her legs apart and his hand traveled down her stomach to the lips of the velvety tunnel between her legs. Boethiah let out a soft gasp and shivered, hissing scornfully as Molag's Bal traced lines around her opening, her lips sore and bloody from his continuous biting, a murr coming from him each time he smelled and tasted her coppery blood; she wanted to punch him very hard if he did that again.

Boethiah dug her nails into his neck as he bit her again, but this time his long tongue slid out from between his blood-covered teeth, licking up the blood from her lips before it suddenly pushed right in her mouth. Boethiah gasped and screamed, her fist hitting him in the cheek as hard as she could. Molag winced noticeably hard, fighting it off as he pushed his long tongue as far as he could get it in her warm mouth. Boethiah fought harder than she ever did, biting down hard on his tongue. She could taste the corruption in his blood, and it tasted good… The bite excited Molag Bal and he wanted to taste more and more of her, nourish himself in the prince. He forcefully pressed his mouth against her in a very rough kiss, if it could even be called that. He glared at her and growled as his claws stabbed and scratched her thighs, heat coming from that one spot he wanted.

He rubbed two fingers together before shoving them inside her. Nothing could prepare Boethiah for that. She felt her muscles tighten up as Molag Bal began to work his fingers rapidly in and out of her, the Lord of Deceit hissing and trying to spit him out, but to him it felt like she was accepting him. The buds on her chest became very sensitive as they rubbed against his chest, which only made it harder him away, clawing at him the way he did before. Molag Bal grinned in amusement as he felt the warm wetness around his fingers, feeling the velvety tight womanhood every which way he could. His thumb began to gingerly stroke the sensitive little spot directly above, and Boethiah felt her whole body shiver hard from just how it felt.

Molag Bal's desire pulsated as it pressed on her leg, the tip wet and rubbing off on her skin. As Molag Bal started to bite at her again, he was genuinely surprised and growled at the return biting, the two of them never breaking the harsh gazes. Boethiah growled as he arms wrapped around his neck, her nails stabbing into his strong shoulders.

"I hate you, Molag Bal..." she hissed hard, panting hard as her pulse shot up. Molag Bal climbed off her and flipped her over onto her back, lifting her cape up and draping it over the small of her back, his hands cupping her firm ass. Boethiah hated the cold of the floor and got to her knees, glaring back at him as she clenched her fists hard. In this position she couldn't fight back, but she found her axe within reaching distance. If he tried to kill her, she would kill him first. Much to her own hatred of herself she felt her moist warmth dripping hard from his stimulation, and as he loomed behind her his hands slid up her ass and down her back, pushing her cape over her shoulders.

"I know you do, Boethiah…" He said coolly. Molag Bal suddenly moved Boethiah on her side to take in every part of her he could lay his eyes on, having not gotten enough of her delectable and demonic body, eating her with his eyes. However, Boethiah glared and smacked him very hard with the back of her hand; Molag Bal stopped, his cheek burning like a flaming arrow had been shot through it. He lightly rubbed his cheek, chuckling softly.

"Very amusing...I forget that attitude of yours sometimes…"

"I should kill you…" She growled loudly, clenching her fists tightly as she leaned on an elbow.

Molag Bal leaned forward, his tongue running over her lips. "And why haven't you killed me?"Blood dripped from her lips like she was a vampire that just fed. She breathed softly as she stared at him hatefully, her silver hair shining with light gleams of sweat. He grabbed her legs and forcefully bent her legs to give himself more and better access to her, inhaling the sweet scent from down below. Boethiah glared as Molag Bal leaned over her. Her own lust was intense and her whole body ached to feel the euphoria of sexual ecstasy, which was the only reason she had not stopped him; she would much rather Sheogorath or Sanguine doing this, rather than Molag Bal. Was it just that, or something else? Her hand on his chest, she squeezed his scales hard as his lips came close to her ear, his breath coming out slowly.

"You're mine Boethiah..." He whispered to her in his deep harsh voice, the sound vibrating through her ear. She balled her fist to punch him, but he suddenly grabbed both her wrists and pressed them together, and an invisible binding kept her wrists locked together. "Better safe than sorry."

Boethiah screamed in disbelief, growling loudly at him. "Shut...your mouth Molag..."

A smirk came over his blood-red lips and he grabbed hold of her again. She felt so warm, and so bothered. The feeling of domination over the Lord of Assassination felt so good; tingles went all over his scaly body. He never thought he could feel this much elation from dominating one individual, but as he kneeled here by the now-bound Boethiah, he was more than certain he felt more dominate and powerful than he ever felt before. His paws grabbed her hips and shifted her position once more, this time on her knees.

"Not satisfied with how I'm placed you disgusting snake?" With her wrists tied Boethiah's ass was kept lifted up, her arms under her with her head pressing on the floor. Not a very comfortable position at all, but Molag Bal had a view of her most delectable parts, his need for her pulsating. The Daedra prince hissed softly when she felt something hot back there. "Just get it over with."

"Not yet…I'll be getting to that, but there's one certain spot that I want first…" If she was facing him she would see a sly grin on his face. It took a second for it to hit her.

"Youwouldn'tdare..." Boethiah hissed threateningly, her nails digging into her palms.

He simply smiled at her, his hands spreading her open. His paws heated and pulsed with power as he slowly slid them up and down her back, leaning over her. Boethiah struggled violently as she felt the tapered end begin pressing on her, shivering violently. Her whole body was hot all over and she was tiring out from the fight prior to this, so she just stopped. Once his guard was down…she would take him down. Molag Bal felt his spell taking effect; the tightness of her backside was gone, so he was capable of getting in without any resistance; he could have her as fast and as hard as she wanted, but there was only one downside…for her at least.

Boethiah felt the pain. The pain was searing, and she screamed and grinded her teeth. He felt very…very indescribable. The texture sent violent shivers up her spine, and the size of the intruder inside her. Molag Bal on the other hand let out a soft moan at how she felt, his paws resting on her back. He was greatly delighted, he wanted to see how she would react…his hips began to move slowly, his progress having no obstruction. Unable to move very well due to the position she was in, Boethiah took what he did to her. She hated it, it hurt so fucking bad! How dare he do this to her, the Daedric prince of Betrayal!

Her eyes clenched so very tightly, the corners of her eyes gathering mist. She bit down on her tongue, more than surprised by the amount of pain. Molag Bal's hips moved fast, not bothering or even wanting to go gentle on her; she could handle it, and even if she couldn't he would be unable to stop himself as he did now; the lust and cruel desire was too strong to leave unfulfilled. His paws traveled wherever they could reach on her, the reptilian prince resting them on her rear.

Boethiah tried to move around, the current position she was in not comfortable at all, but even that was proving to be difficult. The most difficult part of this however was the fact that with the pain there was pleasure accompanying it; very intense pleasure, even as he had her rather brutally impaled on his cock. Hands slowly sliding down her back, Molag Bal did not allow anything to impede his movements, never once slowing down.

"Feels good, doesn't it Boethiah?" his wet tongue ran over her lips, licking away the sheen of blood.

Boethiah said nothing; she wouldn't feed his amusement. She could feel the magic of the binds weakening, and she could move her hands a little more, and while she hoped he would not notice, she would wait for the prince to finish, have his fun. But for the moment Boethiah had a feeling he put more than a binding spell on her. Every time he dug so deep into her tightness a sharp wave of pleasure more powerful than the last attacked her, and resisting became so hard she began to think she should give up for the moment; Molag Bal felt Boethiah's hips trying to rock back against his thrusts, the gentle moans of the prince under him becoming louder and more lustful, fuel for his pleasure.

His sharp claws dug into the skin of her back, spreading under her locks of silvery hair. "You're mine Boethiah…" he hissed in her ear.

Boethiah cringed, her wrists gradually coming free of his magic binding. He disgusted her, sent shivers up her spine, but everything he did to her made her erogenous zones burn intensely; even the spots he wasn't touching at all felt like they were on fire. The pain was almost gone; dulled and absorbed by his power. Over and over again he pushed and pounded into her abused body, the pressure building within his cock as he neared release. Boethiah hissed loud and hard, her palms red from her nails digging into her skin.

"Notyet Molag…"

The hatred pulsed like the shadows around them, seeping into the walls of the Imperial palace. The serpentine prince of Domination increasingly drew closer and closer to the orgasm he wanted, his reptilian cock throbbing in her loosened and well-used ass. Not slowing down his strong hands still on her back, his claws stabbed firmly into the backs of her shoulders. Boethiah felt nowhere near the euphoria he was the second he penetrated her; he was playing with her and she knew it, giving her this deep-seated pleasure yet not allowing her to get anywhere. She was fuming, she wanted an orgasm so bad; her body needed it, and it was very obvious he wasn't going to give it to her…

His heart pounding hard in his chest Molag Bal panted his breath deep and ragged. He could not hold off the inevitable for an eternity. He could not handle it any longer. With a loud and deep roar he thrusted as deep and hard as he could into her with bone-shattering thrusts, Boethiah crying out at the harshness of the white-hot fire flooding every muscle in her body. Then, Boethiah felt the thick hot seed of her rival suddenly gush down into her, filling and varnishing her bowels with his depraved essence. Shaking on top of her with his claws still puncturing her, Molag Bal dragged his claws down her back, creating large deep slashes in her skin. She screamed at the hot searing pain, her eyes rolling back as it suddenly gave a strong amount of sick pleasure that forced a loud pain/pleasure-induced moan out of her.

The deep lesions ended at the center of her back, drops of blood running down her sides. Boethiah's ignored pussy lips dripped so hard in practically begged for attention, but she didn't want to degrade herself by begging him to touch her there. She would do anything but that. Struggling just slightly, she could move her hands a little more after Molag Bal slowly pulled out following an eternity of savoring the heat of her dark shadowy body. This was her chance…the only chance she would have to break free. Once he removed himself from her, he looked over his handiwork on her, greatly enjoying seeing her like this. Before he could put his next plan into motion, however, he soon found himself staring up at the ceiling, pushed on his back; Boethiah was upon him.

"Boethiah…" Molag Bal scowled, baring his fangs at her. "You always were a clever one…"

Boethiah smiled at him. Her fingers stroked the underside of his head, stroking his warm smooth scales. "You cannot keep me down for long Molag BalIt's my turn now."

Boethiah pushed him down hard on the floor, glaring him down balefully as she straddled his lap. The heat coming off her was searing and his thighs became wet. He could see the lust flickering in her deep dark eyes as she grinded against his left leg. Molag Bal shivered hard at the feel of her velvety warm and soft lips on his scales, his tail going stiff. He was the Lord of Domination, nobody dominated him like this! He felt heated with anger but extremely aroused. He took her hips in an iron-tight grip, his muscles flexing as he held her.

"Now you like this, aren't you?" Boethiah practically purred, her torn lips covered in dried crusted blood. She was very anxious to feel him inside her and impatient; he didn't deserve to have her right away, but what he did deserve was to be teased after what he did to her.

"Don't mock me Boethiah..." He growled hard, hissing as he watched Boethiah lift herself over him, her tunnel hovering over his cock. Sweet liquids dripped from her engorged lips, logged with built-up desire as she started teasing him with contact rather harshly, an evil smirk on her face. Even Molag Bal would squirm for her, no one could resist.

"You had your funnow I'm having mine…" She whispered to him as she edged down closer and closer until with one swift drop she rammed hard on his lap, taking his entire length in with that one motion. Molag Bal roared loudly at the incredibly tight fit; this hole was even tighter than the other. He began panting loudly, his claws digging into her flesh. Boethiah shivered as she stayed there for a short while then up, her fleshy vice not wanting to let him go and almost holding on painfully before she slammed back down, half of his length still inside beforehand. Never before had he taken a female this tight before. His cock swelled and throbbed from the heat pulsating around him, shockwaves shooting through his nerves.

A deep rumble erupted from Molag Bal's throat, loud and foreboding like that of an angered dragon. Boethiah rested on his lap for another moment, her tight tunnel not getting any looser despite his thickness. Molag Bal's emotions were very mixed about this; he both loved and hated it. He wanted to throw her off him but hold her down and show her she was nothing but a Daedra bitch. She was nothing but that, but the Daedric prince could not resist the lust building very quickly within him. The reptile let out a hard and deep groan, breathing his hot rank breath on her face. Her red eyes reflected his yellow ones as they stared at each other. The Daedric prince rocked on his lap, her inner nerves rubbing hard on his stiff length. He hissed at the stimulus, sharp claws scratching at her hips.

Boethiah couldn't stop herself; she wanted as much of him she could get and wouldn't stop until she got the climax she wanted so badly. Her breasts pressed roughly on his chest, her much broader chest heaving heavily as their hot sweaty bodies rubbed together. She felt she wasn't getting any closer to climax no matter how hard or fast she worked. This sent shivers up Molag Bal's spine, who pushed deep into her tightly godly crevice as hard as he could.

She was moaning like a wanton harlot at this point and it delighted him greatly he had the powerful Daedric Prince of Murder reduced to this in her ecstasy, yet he could sense the hate for him burning in her soul, hot like her searing core, so tight and wet.

"You're...so close, I cansense it Boethiah..." He said in a deep callous whisper, his tongue curling over her cheek as he grasped her shoulders. The armor plates were broken and stained with blood, the deep red cape torn everywhere, just a ragged cloak down her bloodied back. Every injury he inflicted stung but it didn't hinder her. She glared at him as he spoke to her, hissing and gritting her sharp teeth together.

"Takeyour handsoff me…" Boethiah hissed at the reptilian demon, her nails stabbing hard into the glinting scales of his muscular forearms.

"Not until you climax…" Molag Bal growled deeply, holding her shoulder and waist to slam her down on his cock with a wet smack of their skin hitting together. "And you will, Boethiah..."

Sparks of ecstasy shot through her whole being. With her body entirely exposed he was free to explore her at his leisure, burning eyes roaming over every curve of the lithe demon, her dark skin warm and damp against his paws. Molag Bal pressed on her leg to slow her down a tiny bit, both to anger her and get a better look at the female on top of him. Grinding his teeth, his eyes fixed on his cock buried so deep inside her. His claws traced a line up her thigh all the way up to the center of her pelvis, so close to her lips. Boethiah felt tremors as he spread her folds open just the slightest, hissing as he kept her from going any faster to eye her. His eyes flashed from the sight of her succulent morsel, the intoxicatingly sweet aroma filling his nostrils.

More than tempted Molag Bal slid his claw underneath the hood and pressed on the sensitive button he knew would set her off. Everything exploded to ten times its intensity and Boethiah cried out, shuddering on top of the thick staff buried in her as her hips moved at a harder and more erratic speed, clenching so painfully around his cock. She needed to orgasm, wanted it above all else at this point. Grinding and rubbing, biting and grating like saber cats in heat, the princes attempted to bring each other to the ends they wanted.

"Vilebeast…" She growled harshly through her teeth at the male she knew would soon implant her. After an agonizing eternity of hunting so desperately for the climax they both wanted, the demoness let out a scream of ecstasy as her demonic snatch tightened to unbearable levels around the reptile prince. He roared so loud the walls of the palace rattled, claws digging into her skin as her succulent juices flowed over his throbbing member. The Coldharbour air scorched the realm and only made the heat more unbearable. Molag Bal hissed and lunged at her in his ecstasy, his jaws clamping around her neck as he bit down. Boethiah moaned at the sick pleasure that made her shake in bliss, a line of drool going down the corner of her lips. The demon did not let go as his fangs broke the skin and tasted the saltiness of her crimson blood.

He could spill as much of her blood as he wanted; they were Daedra, and Daedra cannot die. Unable to hold it any longer he growled deeper than ever as his hot corrupted seed gushed inside her a second time. Boethiah could feel the dark power building within her. Lust only grew as he filled her with his corruption, her blackened core beating from the prior apprehension. Jet after jet flowed in a never-ending stream. His tongue licked up the blood from her neck until his grip loosened, his orgasm subsiding not long after. He felt his warmth on her scales, seed slowly flowing out of her in small amounts.

"Vile indeed…" he hissed in her ear, his tongue flicking against it in an almost teasing way.

Boethiah's breath labored. She glared and slowly pulled herself off him, her organ refusing to let go of his. She stood, her hands clenched into fists. She said nothing but the lust and hatred was there; only a fool wouldn't see it.

"The lustis burning Molag Bal…" she said as her bloodied axe rematerialized in her shaking hands. The lust for combat still blazed in her heart; pure sexual lust on fueled it. "Stand andfight me…"

A smirk spread across his mouth. She always lusted to strike him down like the animal he was, even after that. It only made the lust he had for her stronger, never able to fully satisfy his hunger for her submission. Even if he could never kill her, it was the ultimate domination.