The Mist and the Lightning. Part 15 - стр. 7
“Here it begins,” Nikto drawled, “Lis, stop shivering about someone needing your ass like that.”
“Please, let's go back.”
“We'll be back in the coming days, don't start. I also need to do a Mission in this fucking Fort, so of course we'll be back, don't whine.”
“Where is Arel?” Kors asked cautiously.
“I left him in the room, don't worry, Kors, your Arel hasn't gone anywhere. The unclean spiders didn’t drag him into their world. And they didn't drag anyone away, you're all right! The conversation is over! Drink!”
When they returned to their room, fairly drunk Lis fucked her for a long time. But he didn’t change his original decision and didn’t take off the cape from her, only lifted it up, and she couldn’t touch him with her hands, only through the fabric, and couldn’t really see whether he was happy or not. But judging by how long and with pleasure he fucked her, he was pleased. And in the morning, barely waking up, he continued. She didn't ask for anything. Resigned, she just got up and lay down as he wanted, allowing him to do whatever he wanted with her body.
Habir Verniy entered Kors’ room without any ceremony:
“Get ready, master ordered to bring you,” he growled deep-chested.
Verniy seemed to sense how Kors treated him, how he didn’t like the unclean dog, feeling disgust and fear. Kors knew that dogs feel when someone is afraid of them, and usually, sensing fear, they attack, but he couldn’t help himself, so this vile, predatory unclean irritated him. And the fact that Nikto loved him with some kind of unjustifiably tender love and constantly dragged him everywhere with him, even more infuriated him. Kors was ready, he pulled himself together and put his appearance in order. His hair was neatly styled and pinned in a ponytail, his clothes smelled of expensive perfume, and precious rings glittered on his neatly nailed fingers. Kors came to his senses after all the failures, or so it seemed. And the dye on his face was almost completely faded, which is why Kors couldn’t even without shrinking internally look at his reflection in the mirror. Yes, he tried not to think about anything and drank a lot of wine to stay in a relaxed oblivion, but it was almost the same Kors – spoiled, broken, but not surrendered. He, obeying the order, followed Verniy into Nikto’s room, and when he entered, he noted with surprise how big it was and one might even say luxurious, but at the same time the Demon had neither windows nor a balcony, like in Karina’s room. Twilight always reigned in his personal World, but it seems that Nikto was not oppressed by it. He was used to living in a witch's cave like in a burrow, Kors thought, staring at the polished stone walls and black slabs of the floor. The ceiling was propped up by carved columns, resting against the vault with openwork arches. Kors saw that Arel was kneeling on the steps by the high bed, undressed, in slave attributes, he didn’t raise his lowered head, and still Kors noticed that something was wrong with his face.
“Hello, Vitor,” said Nikto and his voice was calm and cheerful.
“Glad to see you, my Demon,” Kors replied, kneeling down.
“Hey, get up, come on without ceremony,” Nikto smiled, “I love you as a noble master who made me first a slave, and then his lover and his thing.”