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Alone at last! I sigh with relief. It was becoming unbearable, it always did. To be so close to him, to touch him and feel him and hear him, and not be able to have him. It became increasingly difficult to supress the urges I felt. Int the darkness of my room, I unclasped my cloak, it fell to the floor with a whisper, and I untucked my shirt. I slipped my hand undernieth and gently caressed the skin, soft touches I pretended were coming from him.
He was such a beautiful creature. I loved everything about him. I loved it when he scowled at me and when he cursed and screamed at me. I loved the way he continually beat me, even when he knew I enjoyed it. I loved the sound of his voice whenever he said my name. But most of all, I loved the way he would sneak a glance at me while he appeared to have turned away; shooting daggers at me with a look of uncertainty and anger in his eyes.
But I could not have him, he hated me. I knew he did, but I could not feel it. Hatred radiates from a human body, thick and savory, ready to be devoured. But I felt no hatred coming from him. Was it because his body was not entirely human? It had to be! I knew that he hated me, he made it so abundantly clear. I should have been pleased by this, I am a mazoku. Wasn't that why I continually tease him, to draw out that anger and hatred? Then why did the idea of him hating me disappoint me so?
Thinking about him, I could not contain my desire. I ran my hand gently down my chest and stomach and then slowly reached into my pants. I gasped softly as I touched myself, already fully aroused. As I began my motion, I closed my eyes, imagining that they were his hands that touched me. I moaned again and again, pleasuring myself as I saw his face in my mind's eye. I leaned back against the wall to steady myself when my muscles became weak. I grabbed hold of the wooden table next to me, gripping its edge. As I drew closer and close to climax, I clutched the wood tighter and tighter. It splintered benieth my grasp as I felt the need to release drawing close. I saw his face in my mind, wearing the scowl he usually gave me. I got creative, in my moments of pleasure, and imagined him smiling at me. He had never really smiled at me before. That image proved to be too much for me. I moaned loudly, calling his name, "Zelgadiss!" Later, I would be grateful for the silence spell I'd placed around the room, but right now I was beyond care.
I held on to the image of his smile. I wanted to see it for real. I wanted him to smile at me like that. A sudden pain stung my soul as I realized the truth. He would never smile at me like that, never. He hated me. I opened my eyes and looked over at the table. The splintered wood had stuck into my hand. I smiled; that pain had helped add to my pleasure. I fell gently to sit on the floor against the wall. I looked down at the large spot on the front of my pants and chuckled.
Catching my breath, still, I closed my eyes again, picturing his smiling face once more. "Zelgadiss," I whispered aloud, "This is one secret I wish I could share."
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