Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions-Chapter 308: Dove and Deadbeat Daddy [18+]

[#minor #seduction #explicit]

• THE GRAY HOUSE, ONE WEEK LATER

Two preteen girls sat on the bastion of a Watchtower, giggling to each other at the fluid stature of an older man below; sparring. His foes were makeshift scarecrows of raffia bodies and melon heads. But in his movements it was clear he'd just as harshly cut down real enemies. The eyes of the young girls were excited and with something more than the right amount of childish interest.

Slash! He cut down a straw-man right in the middle, leaping up through the exposed dry guts to flow into the air in a perfect tumble: three times he turned horizontally, sending his silver longsword out, before finally landing in a wonderful drop.

The wind seemed to stop as his sword found rest in the heart area of the last standing straw-man.

The blade sank in deeply, tearing out the other end, the force of the hit so hard it pushed the scarecrow down.

A dozen cut-up straw-men in a distended circle around his feet, Israfel slowly raised his yellow eyes and his head. He arose from his superhero landing and scanned the area. The sound of clapping came to him from above and he looked up to see the youngest daughter of the Legata seated on a fence. He was guessing the other fourteen-year old at her side was her friend. They both blushed heavily when his gold eyes rose to see them. But didn't stop clapping.

"Careful up there, you two." Rafel ordered gravelly to the little girls, who immediately went giggling afresh at the deepness of his voice.

Gah! I need a shirt. Rafel face-palmed.

He quickly dropped his eyes before the two blond cuties had any more chance to ogle a man twice their age. He had come here—to the outer grounds of the Legata's palatial home because he didn't think anyone would come this far out. The Watchtower was abandoned; a relic of old Druid times. It was cracked stone, must, and cobwebs in there. The gods only knew how little, pretty Dash and her friend had gotten up the look-outs. It was the only way they could have snuck up on him.

He guessed Dash knew this too.

The cute pink-haired dove.

'Dove? What am I thinking? Hell no. That…she's too young.'

Rafel growled at the obvious rising in his breeches. 'Fuck.' He started across the small circle of woodwork corpses to go get his longsword. If it were [Bloodthorn] he wouldn't need to make the journey; he could just conjure its soul back to his Helpocket. But this particular blade was just a training weapon from the Armory of the Gray House. He could feel the curious eyes of the girls on him the entire twelve-step walk over to the other end of the sparring ground.

He was sure they were wondering why the Ambassador was walking with his back to them.

Rafel didn't dare turn to face them; one thing he knew was that Daschelle Novak Romanov wasn't so young or innocent to not know what a stiff one was.

And his dick wasn't the un-noticeable size.

No.

He was very noticeable.

So he walked like he'd suddenly developed hunchback, marching to the damn place where his sword was impaled, as if to blame the straw-man for the sudden disgusting boner. Dash had very naughty blue eyes, that said she knew more than her age, and he wasn't putting his cock in direct line of sight to those rebellious blues. With more than the necessary amount of force, he pulled out the training sword from the saggy chest. He kicked the straw-man just because:

"Fuck you," he told it.

He had already made up his mind to head back the same way he had come in; the path of the small forest. The spot he'd chosen to spar today was on the northern acres of the estate. Secluded. Almost too thick with greenery. Perfect for him, which was why he didn't expect to have to deal with any adventurous, snoopy little girl. The forest path led to a drawbridge that just cut over a creek rising from River Sana'a. He had made up his mind on this route—because there was no way he wanted to face young Daschelle now that she'd given him a fat penis to worry about.

"That damn little girl." He hissed through thin lips.

Rafel admitted to himself in seconds to stay away from all the princesses of Rocasus for the rest of his stay. One week already. He hoped to get something soon. He assured the sinner in him, 'I shall leave this tempting house as soon as I have my first evidence the Legata didn't send the assassin. No need to push at my limits with these seductresses all around me. Urusla I can deal with. She's mature. She knows exactly what she wants. Plus I know for certain she's not a virgin, unlike. . .' ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

A pretty face and fairy-blue eyes entered his headspace.

'Ah, goddamit! You've got to be kidding me.'

Now he couldn't get the blonde dove out of his head. And he needed to stop calling her that.

He was just about to sprint away from the temptation of a very pretty, flaxen-haired minor when he remembered he was still shirtless.

"Shit."

And his shirt was behind, on that damn rock. He remembered pulling it and dropping it there when he'd come at the small hours of daybreak. "Fuck. Shit." Rafel cussed hard.

He couldn't stroll across the fucking front lawn of the Gray House, golden, sweaty and half-naked, with all the damn security everywhere. Especially in his position. At this point, Rafel missed being a young man with no [dignitas]—at least to the mortals. Steeling his back—and pushing his prod as far back between his legs as it would go, Rafel took a deep breath and turned around.

And there was Dash.

Holy gods! The girl hadn't moved. She and her friend.

Rafel felt his dick begin to slip up and immediately put his hand there to block it out. It was a wrong move because Dash fixed her innocent eyes on it. And then they weren't so innocent when she saw what he was trying to hide out. Her blue pupils went big.

Real big.

It was the harsh voice of the House Governess that saved Rafel:

"MISS DASCHELLE NOVAK, WHAT ON THE MARTYR'S GREEN EARTH ARE YOU DOING UP THERE? Come on right down this instant, young missus!"

Rafel watched Dash and the other girl hop down the breach and vanish on the other side of the Watchtower. Her reluctance to leave showed in her slow steps. He sighed greatly at their departure and shut his eyes, walking away. The darned shirt was on the rock, right where he'd left it. As Rafel loosed his hand off his crotch to grab it, he stared as his cock bobbed to full roundness, shooting at his poor cotton breeches with a mass that looked like he'd stuffed a cucumber down there.

"Well, she ain't here no more. Good thing, right?" He said down to the boner.

Rafel decided a run through the little forest back to the main estate might drop his stiffer, so he pulled on his shirt and started a light jog. 'I have to shift my training sessions to nighttime,' he inwardly corrected his calendar.

The run really was working after about a half-mile in the woods. His penis had dropped three inches. Rafel allowed a brief smile to shine out. He had just come up the quaint bridge over the brook when he heard the sounds of feet hurring after. Someone was following him; trying to be subtle about it by shadowing his footfalls.

Rafel kept at it another yard before he suddenly turned and lashed out with his left hand.

His palm landed on something soft.

He heard a squeal. But before he could grip , his stalker went sailing from the bushes dusting the bridge and into the cold water of the brook below.

Splash!

He heard another squeal.

"What the hell!" He put his head out and peered down, just as a very little person broke the water surface.

He caught a flash of wet pink hair before the head went down again. "Aah! Help! I can't swim."

"DASH?! GODS-FUCKING-DAMMMIT!" Rafel could not believe his eyes. He dropped all his wrath at the little girl, just for three seconds, and jumped in after her. Somewhere in the leap down the bridge, his shirt came off—again.

Rafel carried Daschelle out in a foetal form in his arms. The moment he knelt at the bank and let her sit by herself on the cool earth, all the anger came rearing up—touched up by horniness too. "What the fuck is wrong with you, little girl? Huh? You wanna drown? IS THAT IT?" He shook her by her arms; her short pink hair came falling into her shiny blue eyes, for some reason annoying Rafel the more. "What is it?" He fell back, studying her. She was soaked. "What is it you want?"

Her eyes were in the moment downcast. He tried to pretend she wasn't such a pretty little thing. He tried to pretend the freezing water hadn't made a second skin of her body. He tried to pretend he couldn't see the little hard points over her chest, peaking what would appear to be fourteen-year old breasts. She was very beautiful.

She finally coughed up enough water to speak, and she raised her chaste gaze. Her iris were just as the water he'd pulled her from.

When all of her expression was revealed against the fall of her dyed hair, Rafel found out she was smiling. He did a doubletake. When she saw his face, she chortled, before breaking into full-fledged laughter the next second. She clutched to her sides, reared back and made the most angelic sounds Rafel had heard in his life. Her little gown rode up her small body, unveiling saintly porcelain untouched by a man's hands. Smudges of mud colored her thighs. Her toes curled. Rafel could see enough of her young thighs, even into the hollow dip of that sweet place... but he didn't dare.

He was dumbstruck, awed by her. "–what? Why are you laughing?" He blinked his golden eyes at her. "You think this is funny?"

Daschelle clutched to her sides, giggling. "No. Not that." She peered back at the brook—the icy water sloshing just three feet behind—and back at him. She covered her mouth, blushing when she said, "y-you can't swim."

"Oh." Rafel's lips twitched. He'd managed to pull her out because the water was shallow. And he was tall. He just about walked out to dry ground.

"You're just like my deadbeat daddy. He couldn't swim neither." She managed to say before she burst into fresh laughter.

Rafel felt a smile push through. And the next second, he found himself chuckling along with her. His laugh was a deeper, lush rumble. The moment his amber eyes slid from observing her, Dash took her time with him. With his body:

He was shirtless again. The ripples of his golden masculinity glistened with drops of river water. His eyes lit up when he laughed and she licked her lips when he pushed back sunny locks with his strong right hand. His heavy bicep bulged. She studied the flow of his muscles. She flushed as her blue eyes cast on his washboard abs; the darker minted hairs that clearly identified him as a man.

An older man.

She didn't even know she'd been biting on her bottom lip until his baritone jarred her. He wasn't laughing anymore. He didn't meet her eyes anymore. In fact, he avoided it.

He ordered her coldly.

"Get up. Let's go."

Dash didn't move. She said quietly. "I saw you, you know."

Rafel was on his feet, hefty, his shadow large over as she sat at his feet. A canopy of trees kept back the light of the morning sun. Rafel grated,

"--saw me?"

Her blue eyes dropped away from his mature physique, to the cold mud. She stammered: "Y-Your dick."

"Excuse me!"

She tried to combat Rafel raising his voice at her. "Don't yell at me. I know what a boner is. I know you had one earlier…and I know you have one now—"

"QUIET, LITTLE GIRL!" Rafel commanded. His voice was guttural. "You don't know what you're talking about. You're just a spirited runt who should be taught how to speak to adults."

"I KNOW WHAT I SAW! YOU KNOW WHAT? I'LL PROVE IT." She jerked from her sitting position in the sand to her knees. And before it could sink in Rafel's head what she really meant, the pink-haired dove grabbed the front of his pants and pulled down.

Hard.

Nobody moved for a full minute.

Rafel just stood there above her, dumbstruck—and hard out of his senses.

She knelt on the back of her legs, her fairy-blue eyes dilated on his. . .

Dash hadn't intended to really pull his pants down. She didn't think she'd be fast enough before he caught her hands. She was curious to see what he hid back there that was so big and bad. And now that she'd seen it, she wanted it.

He was darker in that part. Huge. His smell touched some part of her brain she'd never explored before. His musk.

"Dash?" Rafel growled. "What have you done?"

Kneeling in the soft mud of the brook's banks, her innocent white dress damp and her pink hair clinging to the right side of her face, the dove was chaste. She knew this man was way better than her deadbeat daddy. And thank the Martyr he wasn't her daddy. The dove leaned forward and without another word, kissed his cock.