SINBIN

I made this pose to kick off my first 12 (cough, cough “six”) Days of Christmas on Tumblr and my characters’ descent into the Netherworld. It features my resident throuple in all their monstrous glory. Yes, it is late! Guys, I’m trying my best, lol! Let's just call it a Valentine's gift, okay?

A few things to note:

Alice is small but mighty, so the female rig is shorter than the default.

Vlad is very tall, so the middle male rig is taller than the default. He’s kind of bent over the other two (possessively), which looks fine from the front but may look a bit odd from the back.

Akira has claws, but they aren’t super long, so just be aware that anything extreme will cause clipping.

I am a literal baby who has only been making poses for like two months, but I playtested this in-game, and as long as you don’t have bulky clothing on your sims you should be fine!

Things you'll need:

Pose Player 

Teleport Any Sim

T.O.U

Don’t claim as your own and don’t put these behind a paywall/CurseForge. If you want to adjust the poses for your own use or extend them for your story, feel free! I just ask that you link back to these poses and mention me so I can scream, fangirl, and spread the word.

Download here on Patreon (always free) or SimFileShare

@ts4-poses

PREV GIFT

Dammon: 

So I think how Dammon would react depends heavily on the status of your relationship.  

When you two are something more defined, it’s pretty hard to make him jealous. Not because he doesn’t care about you, but because he’s really secure in your relationship (whatever that may be) and he trusts you.  

That being said, he’s only mortal. Seeing another person flirting with you gets him a bit pissed off. Not at you, of course, but at the person flirting with you.  

He’ll come up to you and politely insert himself into the conversation, making sure to grab your waist a little tighter, maybe make a show out of pecking you on the cheek.  

Basically anything to show this person that you and him are something.  

And when the person gets the hint, he’s happy to have you all to himself again. It just ends up making him really appreciate how safe and comfortable he feels with you.  

When he gets you to bed though, he definitely can’t help but make some quip about the whole ordeal.  

Like he’d have his face between your legs and his fingers inside of you and feel the need to comment on how wet you get just for him, or how much he loves being the only one to see you fall apart.  

He just really loves having you all to himself. 

Now if you guys weren’t in a relationship of any kind, and Dammon sees someone flirting with you? That’s different.  

Because he doesn’t know the true extent of your feelings. So, even though he has an air of confidence around him, he still has doubts. And seeing someone else flirting, especially if they’re making you smile or laugh? 

Oh it’s torture to him.  

I see all three of these guys being really big tail swishers. They’re all like annoyed cats when jealous.  

But Dammon thinking you may be into this other tiefling has his tail whipping around the forge like it has a mind of its own.  

He may burn himself on the forge once or twice from how uncontrollable it is.  

He’ll grumble to himself the entire time you’re talking to this mystery person, mumbling under his breath. 

He thinks he’s fairly inconspicuous about it. 

He isn’t though. 

Rolan: 

God. Rolan. I have so many feelings about jealous Rolan.  

I don’t think he becomes jealous super easily or anything, but he does react the most forward about it.  

Rolan has this strange mix of confidence and insecurity, which I think would translate to his romantic endeavors as well.  

Like he’s confident that he can please you, he’s a capable man, a talented wizard, why shouldn’t he be able to satisfy your needs? 

But also, he’s hard to deal with, a bit selfish, an utter weakling, definitely not as handsome as this tiefling you’re talking to, so why would you want him at all? 

I could see those kinds of thoughts running through his head. Even though you don’t see him that way at all. 

So of course he sulks when he becomes truly jealous. The insecurities take over big time. Especially if the person flirting with you excels at something he doesn’t.  

He’s not mad at you or anything, he’s more upset that he doesn’t feel good enough for you. But he would take it out on you a bit. 

A little bitter comment here or there, maybe giving you a bit of the cold shoulder treatment. Because his first defense mechanism is abrasiveness. 

He hates himself even more when he snaps at you, but he just can’t help it. He’s just so consumed by the idea that he doesn’t deserve you. 

When you get him alone and have an honest conversation about his feelings, which will take some prying, mind you, he’ll apologize for everything of course. He does want to make a better effort to do better by you. 

And his first step will be to take you to bed and tenderly show you how much he cares.  

“Makeup sex” (if you can really even consider it that) with him is extremely intimate and sweet. He’s still going to fuck you deep, rutting against you desperately, but he’ll try to show you just how much you mean to him during.  

You, of course, just have to make a joke about needing to make him jealous more often.  

Zevlor: 

Zevlor is tough because, like Dammon, he tries to hide it.  

And I think jealousy for him is something less akin to true envy and more akin to self-loathing (which is a bit similar to Rolan, but I think Rolan does have a true sense of jealousy because he internalizes it as “I'm mad that this person excels where I fail” where Zevlor is more “I am mad at myself for failing where this other excels” - the difference being where they place the hostility) 

He knows you love him and trusts you implicitly, but at the end of the day, he loves you so much that he thinks you deserve “better” than him. 

So when he sees someone flirting with you, he excuses himself to be alone for a bit. He’s always been a very “enjoys watching others have fun” type of guy, so at first you don’t really see that anything is wrong. 

But then you notice he’s not really even sitting at the sidelines anymore, he’s just off somewhere else entirely. When you find him, he’s like staring wistfully up at the moon.  

If you know him well enough you start to pick up on the other little things that tell you he’s not himself.  

The flicking of his tail, his hands clasped tight behind him, not looking you directly in the eye for too long. It all makes you really sad, because of course you have an idea of what’s the matter.  

He’ll outright deny that he’s jealous, that he’s feeling down because of that other person, I don’t think he’d be the kind of person to really admit that. 

But once you’re alone with him he’ll open up to you about his insecurities and his worries about being able to make you happy the way someone else could.  

He is insecure about a lot of things and the last thing he wants is for it to become a pity party for him. He just really wants to be honest with you. 

Despite his protests, you still get to reassure him just how much you love him. Even better, you get to show him. 

Just like Rolan, the sex is incredibly heartfelt and intimate (because of course you have to show this man just how much you want him in every way). Lots of kissing and sweet whispers, light touches and slow thrusts. He fucks you like he has no other obligations for the rest of his life except to be inside you.  

SFW

This wizard has a serious case of oldest sibling disorder

Rolan can be downright bossy, because a lot of his self identity rests on feeling powerful and in control of things

On a deeper level, Rolan is just used to being the one taking care of the people he loves. Having the scenario flipped—being taken care of for once—it throws him off balance

Falling for a guy who takes the lead and takes initiative might honestly cause Rolan a mild identity crisis without him realizing. He’ll deny the feelings for a week or two, stewing and blushing and unintentionally broadcasting his crush to anyone around him

This was not the plan. So why does he keep daydreaming about you picking him up princess style and tossing him down onto your bed

Inside Rolan’s dying to get swept off his feet and lavished, he just doesn’t know it yet

Maybe it finally clicks for him the first time you pull Rolan close and murmur all your appreciation into his pointed ear

Rolan is so weak for praise and so, so hungry for it, especially from you

He can’t help but melt inside when you tell him how good he is, how clever and competent, how much he deserves to feel incredible and how much you’d enjoy being the one to make him feel that way

Kiss him afterward and feel Rolan whimper softly against your mouth as he goes a bit limp in your arms. He’s entirely yours

He’s not only falling in love with you, he’s discovering a whole side of himself he never gave himself time or permission to explore

But you? You make him feel loved and completely safe

Rolan will occasionally come to you to pout or complain about trivial things, just to get a kiss and hear you assure him you’ll take care of it for your sweet little mage

He’s still flustered by how much he enjoys it at first, even more so when he feels himself flush and stiffen under his robes

Rolan also becomes addicted to the feeling of being wrapped up in your arms

Your arm draped on his shoulder: your hands looped around his waist to keep him tucked in close while you’re kissing: and especially your forearms caging him in against the wall while you grind against each other

Rolan’s still proud, so it’s not easy for him to admit or ask for these things out loud unless you’re alone

But even in a public setting, he will sometimes appear close beside your shoulder and glance over at you with a wordless request that means please hold me a bit, I’m tired/lonely/needy for you

If you don’t notice fast enough, Rolan might softly brush your hand or loop his tail low around your calf to get your attention. You’re the one who awakened these feelings in him, and by the hells he’s not going to be ignored now

Face it: you have unleashed needy sub Rolan upon yourself, you’ll just have to dom up and deal with the consequences

NSFW:

When you’re fucking him, Rolan can be somehow vulnerable and teasing/demanding all at the same time

Old habits die hard…so might Rolan if you don’t give him what he needs

Rolan knows the right word from you or the right gesture pinning his wrist or thigh can get him dangerously close to losing it, and some nights that makes him feel rebellious

He has a smart mouth even in bed, and provoking you excites him sometimes

‘Gods, I bet I can finish myself before you do—’ Rolan’s grip closes around his own hard cock as your slickened fingers gently and slowly prepare him

Other nights he has absolutely zero fight in him. Just a soft pile of Tiefling clinging to the man he loves as he kisses across your shoulders, asking you to take him while you tell him that he’s more than good enough

Rolan may try to hide it (that or he’ll make zero effort), but he’s weak for any time you order him around or direct him

‘Get on your hands and knees’ ‘Spread for me like a good boy, Rolan’ ‘Stop biting your lip or I’ll bite it for you—go on and let everyone hear who makes you feel this good, that’s it—’

It all gets him so needy for your cock that he can’t say no to any of it until you’re filling him

His favorite positions are usually the ones that let him hold onto you for even more closeness—missionary, against his desk in the Tower, etc.

Of course, those don't give him a chance to hide his reactions from you, so you’ll occasionally see him blush dark or squeeze his eyes shut or bite back the sounds you coax out of him

Alternatively: just tell Rolan he thinks too much and fuck him into his mattress so hard he can’t think about anything else at all including his own ego

General

So, I feel like once all tiefs reach sexual maturity they'll start to either have heats or ruts, depending on their biology

Anyone with female biology will have a heat, and I feel like they'd have heats similar to cats but with a slightly longer time between heats

So generally they'd have a heat every two to three months or so unless they're pregnant or have other health issues

For the ones with male biology they'd definitely have a rut

They'd follow similar patterns to the women, but it's not unusual for some tieflings to have longer stretches between their ruts if they don't have a partner

A single tiefling that isn't particularly sexually active might only go into rut once or twice a year

I do think a male tiefling could prematurely go into rut if exposed to a females heat, and couples that have been together for a while will sync up

They have pretty typical heat and rut behaviours with nesting, possessiveness, and a pretty undeniable breeding kink

Nesting, possessiveness, and general mood shifts tend to start setting in during pre-heats and pre-ruts

Pre-heats and pre-ruts can last two to five days, and a full heat and rut can last anywhere from two days to a full week depending on the individual

In saying that, having a partner can definitely shorten both heats and ruts, so single tieflings working through things by themselves will have longer heats or ruts

Heats and ruts can also become more painful the longer they go on without the relief of a sexual partner

Tieflings can tell when others are in heat and rut mostly through pheromones, but a female tieflings tail will also involuntarily lift when she's in pre-heat/heat and around a male

I wonder if I should go so far as to headcanon that they have knots, I did already give them all ridged dicks

Dammon

If you and Dammon aren't dating then he'll be much more shy about his ruts

He basically disappears from his forge and the public for a few days and then comes back as if nothing happened

Once you start dating him is when you find out why he pulls the disappearing act

Dammon is actually very open about it now you're both together and have already been intimate

Blushes slightly while trying to explain some of the more physical, primal aspects

Would flush even more if you tell him you find the whole thing incredibly attractive

The next time he has his rut, you're the only person allowed to see him, and he really is a sight

Naked and tangled in his sheets, all flushed and tense, undeniably hard as he palms himself while looking over at you

Even the way he strips you of your clothing is different, he just about rips it off you as he kisses and nips down your neck and chest

While Dammon is usually one to take his time with making you feel good when he's in rut the only thing on his mind is getting to cum

Though even in his hazy mind frame he still makes sure you're comfortable the whole time

Even a near sex crazed and highly hormonal Dammon is still a very caring partner

You know he's going to bend you in half as he fucks you, he just loves how good you look underneath him like that

Breeding kink go brrrr

This man always fucks like he's trying to breed you but it's off the charts when he's in rut

I hope you're ready to be fucked within an inch of your life because his refractory period ceases to exist

Absolutely watches as he pulls out of you and some of him cum leaks out because he's stuffed you so full

Dammon praises you so well too, you can not shut up this man and his dirty talk

"That's it gorgeous, you take my cock so well."

"You gonna make me a daddy, darling? 'm gonna knock you up, full you up with my cum."

Once his rut dies down enough, he'll scoop you up for a bath

There is no way you could stand after the way this man just wrecked you-

Dammon takes very good care of you, and then you do it all again the next day

Zevlor

Whether you're dating Zevlor or not, he's your personal wealth of knowledge on everything tiefling

So what do you do when a book you read mentions 'the times of year and conditions unique to tieflings' and doesn't explain it?

You go and find your favourite paladin

Zevlor is so embarrassed, dating or not, explaining to you how tiefling heats and ruts work

Can't even keep his eyes on you

When you two are dating and you realise you didn't see him at all yesterday, it's time to go hunting for the man

You have an idea of what might be going on but nothing prepares you for what you find

Much like Dammon, you find him tangled in his bed sheets desperately trying to get himself off

He lets out the sexiest groan when he sees you standing there

He's the gentlest of the three while working through his rut

Even then, Zevlor is noticeably rougher with you than usual

Has you in a missionary position, his whole body pressed to yours as he pants in your ear and thrusts into you

Zevlor can't keep his hands off you when he's in rut, they're all over your hips and chest and giving light tugs to your hair

He gives into the primal need to mark you too, it's the only time he'll give you hickeys

Breeding kink: the sequel

Absolutely tells you he's going to breed you, and fucks you like he means it

Doesn't even think as he uses his hands and tail to spread your legs so he can fuck you deeper

Zevlor loves to look at the way you tremble every time he fills you with cum, using his fingers to help you get off at the same time

Even while he's trying to find his own relief, he makes sure to make you cum so many times you end up overstimulated and about to cry from the pleasure

Definitely has you cockwarm him as the two of rest, the thought of you keeping his seed so deep in you until it takes just gets him going again

You'll know he's ready for another round when Zevlor starts grinding himself into you again

When the worst of his rut is over he gives you the best massages

Apologises so profusely too the first few times you help him through his rut, even if you tell him how much you like it

Rolan

There is no way Rolan is ever telling you anything about heats and ruts

Absolutely forbidd his siblings from mentioning it too, he's just way too embarrassed for you to know

Even when you guys are dating he just locks himself away in his tower for a week while he works through it and recovers

This man will not tell you anything

And then he forgets to lock the door

As soon as you open it you're met with the sight of a whiney, teary eyed Rolan trying to get off by grinding against a pillow in desperation

Unlike with the other two, there's no clear 'top' when you're with Rolan during his rut

He loves having you ride him until he sees stars just as much as he wants to bend you over his desk until everyone else in Ramaziths tower can hear you scream

Rolan loves hearing you when he's in rut

Yell his name, tell him that you belong to him, tell him how good he fucks you, say he looks so pretty when you ride him-

He loves all of it so much

He's also the one that bites you the hardest, expect him to draw at least a little bit of blood by accident

Breeding kink: the trilogy

Rolan isn't letting you leave the room unless he's knocked you up

Absolutely puts a fertility spell on you by brushing his hand over your lower belly and murmuring the words

He also refuses to pull out unless it's to change positions, and if any cum leaks out of you he'll push it back in with his fingers

Overstimulation is the name of the game with Rolan, he wants you both overstimulated and crying and completely fucked out

This man believes in equality and we love him for it

The youngest of the tiefling bachelors and definitely the most pent up, it'll take all day before he calms down enough for the two of you to rest

When things do calm down, after he makes sure you're both clean and fed, Rolan wraps you up with him in his bed and will read to you

It's his own personal flavour of aftercare, cuddling and reading your favourite book as he makes sure you're comfortable and happy

Dammon

This man would cope incredibly well with tail play

Dammon is a slut for any attention you pay to his tail and grinding against it is absolutely going to get him going

It doesn't matter if you guys are clothed or naked, in his bedroom or just in his forge storage room, you only need to ask and he's ready

He's so loud every time you do it, press yourself down on his tail while holding the base of his horns and you will hear the prettiest moans from him

Hands roam over your whole body, Dammon can't keep still

Speaking of not staying still, he will absolutely be hard as a rock and bucking his hips when you guys really get into it

You can make him cum untouched by riding his tail

He praises you so nicely too

"Just like that, making me feel so good baby."

Zevlor

Zevlor is scandalised and horny

"My tail-? You're actually suggesting... Well... I'm not opposed, as such."

He might take a bit more warming up, maybe a bit of making out and heavy petting, but he will also do tail play

You'll find he also gets very into it after a while

It's always done in the utmost privacy (or as close as you can get while on the road)

Your hold is on his horns but his are always on your hips, Zevlor is a gentleman and helps you grind yourself down on him

This man groans, and tips his head back, and looks so pretty-

Keep your hands on his horns, help pull his head back, kiss and suck on his neck

Zevlor just melts under your affections in bed

He won't cum untouched, but this is a definite way to work him up into a bit of a frenzy

Rolan

Put this man in his place

Sit him the hell down and grind on his tail until he's a whimpering little mess underneath you

No one can tell me Rolans horns aren't the perfect shape to hold

He's built for this

It doesn't matter where you are, the grove or Ramaziths tower, pull him off to relative privacy and he's all yours

Like I said, he whimpers

Rolan will whine too

Never quite loses his sass though, if he can't tease with words then he'll nip at your collarbones and shoulders instead

Trust him to tense up his tail randomly so you'll feel it shift against you and falter in your pace

Rolan can cum untouched like this too but he'll never admit it

Instead he prefers to just snark you

Dammon

Dammon is the sweetest tiefling

Man absolutely loves to shower you in praise both in and out of bed

In terms of as a kink though, you just need to say the word and he's diving in head first

The only way to shut him up is to put his mouth to a different use, Dammon is too busy telling you how good you are for him

"That's it baby, you take me so well. So good, all for me."

"Keep going beautiful, gods, you're gonna make me cum-"

"Fuck, you look too good like that. Got another round in you, sweetheart? I bet you do."

If your praise kink is activated by hearing the noises your partner lets out then Dammon is the perfect man for you

He's always either talking or moaning when wanting to indulge your shared kink. Lots of pretty, breathy noises leaving his mouth interrupting what he's trying to say

Dammon loves letting you know how good you make him feel

It's so ingrained in him you can feel it in the way he touches you as he praises you

Hands everywhere, lips fervently kissing your skin, his tail wrapping tight around you to hold you close to him

Hearing Dammon praising you for the entire night is honestly heaven on earth

Zevlor

Well, we all know Zevlor is into body worship big time

What goes perfectly with body worship? Praising

He's an absolute natural with it too, so many sweet words murmured into your ear or against your skin

Just let Zevlor take care of you, let him make you feel good and he'll be the happiest man in Faerun

"My little love, you're so good for me. So sweet, you'll let me have a taste, yes?"

"Let me take care of you darling. You always make me feel so good, let me make you feel the same."

"I'm so proud of you, my love. I know it's a lot, but you're doing so well taking me like that."

All his words come from low and deep in his chest, the rumble of his voice is enough to send shivers down anyone's spine

Zevlors hands are all over you too, feeling your body or running through your hair

He just wants to feel close to you, and you can feel it in the ways your bodies press against each other

The type of guy to keep up the praises even into aftercare, it's like a switch that he just can't turn off

Dammon: 

Dammon is very timid in his daily life; he’s self-assured, yeah, but just a rather calm guy. And I see that bleed into his bedroom life a bit too. Like, he’s not super fond of PDA and tends to be fairly romantic during sex, even when doing something really dirty. 

But when he’s drunk? HOO BOY. 

He won’t care about who’s around, where you are, what you were previously doing. When he’s drunk and horny there is only one thing on his mind. 

And that’s getting his hands on you. 

He rarely gets to that level of drunkenness ever and luckily it’s usually at a party or a bar where everyone else is equally as shitfaced. 

Lucky because he’s grabbing fistfuls of your ass, grinding his hardened cock against your thigh, sticking his tongue in your ear. 

Part of him gets off on whispering filthy nothings just to make you turn red. No one really even notices you two, but you have some decorum, thank you. 

But it’s hard to keep a straight head when he uses that really deep purring sort of voice right in your ear. 

“Gods, you’d look so good on my cock right now”, “Can’t wait to spread you open for me”, “I bet you’re already so nice and wet you’d take all of me right now, love” 

A lot of Dammon’s drunken sex revolves around the buildup.  

Even though he’s the one practically trying to put his hands down your pants in public, he wants you to be the one so worked up that you can’t help but pull him out the door. 

Weirdly enough, he still isn’t too into kissing in public. Anything above a peck or light smooch he doesn't super care for, even drunk. 

But then he gets you behind closed doors? All bets are off at this point because he can’t keep his mouth off of you. It’s sloppy and wet and really hot because it’s very different than him normally. 

I see Dammon’s oral fixation becoming so so so much worse while drunk. Not just in a giving way either. He wants you to ride his face but also suck him off at the same time. 

He wants to feel every filthy moan of yours around his cock before you swallow his load. 

Don’t worry though, he’s miraculously not affected by whiskey dick in the least. He’ll be ready for another round after a couple minutes of more dirty talk.  

Rolan: 

Rolan strikes me as the kind of guy that is either a bitchy drunk or a flirty drunk (absolutely no in between) but it depends on so many things. Who’s around, what he’s drinking, the mood he’s in, where he’s at, etc. 

Bitchy Drunk Rolan (BDR) will pick a fight with you over EVERYTHING. LITTLE. THING. Like you could say the sky is blue and this snarky little asshole is going to argue that it’s actually azure.  

But! I’ll let you in on a little secret. That’s his foreplay. *wink wink wink* 

Every little frustrated groan you make, every time you raise your lip in a sneer at his antics, it all makes him so hard it hurts. He’ll never admit to it sober though.  

BDR wants to push your buttons until you’re about done with him, and then just when you’re about to leave... 

He’s pushing you someplace quiet and kissing you so hard it hurts. I’m talking teeth clacking, tongue down your throat, growling kind of kissing.  

He’s the kind of drunk that never makes it back to a bed. He’s fucking you over whatever he possibly can, not even taking off his robes, just slipping his cock out so he can be inside you as fast as possible.  

BDR isn’t much of a talker during the act itself, he’s more prone to groaning and huffing while he snaps his hips into you 

But he always has some smug little quip afterwards that makes you roll your eyes 

Flirty Drunk Rolan is a whole other story.  

His smart mouth is aimed at you instead of against you. He’d have you tucked away in a corner where he can have all of your attention so that he can see what makes you blush, what makes you fumble your words.  

The whole “don’t be greedy” line comes to mind. He’s playful, basically. Because he’s much more comfortable. 

When he has you alone, he’s slower than BDR, taking a bit of time to get you naked, work you up. Make sure you’re about as wet as possible just from the anticipation. 

He still doesn’t find a bed in time. But instead of bending you over something, he fucks you on something. 

Lifts you on his desk, holds you against a bookcase. He wants to face you during and see the mess he’s made of you.  

Both types of drunk Rolan are whiners though. Right before they cum. That’ll never change.  

Zevlor: 

Zevlor is a quiet drunk, you cannot convince me otherwise.  

His time as a Hellrider has made sure that even after drinking heavily, he always has his wits about him.  

That being said I see him as having one weakness that leaves him a little distracted. 

Surprise (not really) it’s you. 

He’s the kind of drunk that will watch you intently wherever you are. He’ll try to explain it away as watching over you, but let’s be real, okay.  

I think he would be the kind of drunk to actually enjoy being on the sidelines watching you enjoy yourself – I mean that was basically him the at camp party.  

He’s like this sober too, but when he’s had a few drinks, you notice the way his trousers fit just a bit tighter in the front, especially after you’re done dancing.  

Zevlor is definitely not the type of guy for PDA even while drunk. Part of it is that he’s a gentleman and doesn’t want to impose on your dignity like that.  

But a small part is also because he wants to save every little piece of you for himself. No one else gets the pleasure of seeing you like that. Just him. 

When you’re alone, he waits until you’re in the bedroom before starting anything.  

Normally, he’d be a little bashful: kissing you softly to try and initiate sex. But like this he gets right to things. 

Pulls you into him, leans down into a firm kiss. He has a quiet sort of confidence about him.  

Don’t get me wrong, he is still 110% sweet and romantic, but like. He doesn’t doubt himself at all like this. He doesn’t look up at you with those questioning eyes that say “Is this okay? Do you feel good?” 

No, now he gazes at you just so he can hungrily watch you come apart knowing that he was the cause.  

Instead of his normal method of fucking you while holding you close, he kneels while he thrusts into you. He pounds into you, slow and steady, hands on your hips to pull you towards him.  

He likes being able to see all of you. How you bounce with every snap of his hips, how your face contorts in pleasure, how you take his entire cock so well.  

Rolan's already confused about how you see him - is he a friend or something more? Do you pick fights with him because you're flirting or because you actually find him annoying? Are you actually staring at him like he thinks you are, or is he just crazy??

And sometimes he thinks you treat him almost like a brother, teasing him like Cal and Lia do. So it's even more frustrating when you try and play fight the way his siblings used to! Because he definitely shouldn't be getting hard from this if you think of him as family.

But he can't help it! Especially with the way your hips keep moving over the base of his tail. He swears you're doing it on purpose except that certainly couldn't be the case, no you definitely aren't grinding on his tail.

You are though. You totally are and he finally realizes it after a very pointed, very direct buck of your hips when the whine you make is anything but decent. Definitely not something you'd make if you thought of him as a brother.

And if the thought of that alone didn't make Rolan's cock throb excitement, the next little whimper out of your mouth does.

But, gods, did it have to be while you were on his tail? Could anything be more embarrassing and arousing at the same time? Could you possibly read his mind, somehow knowing how shamefully sensitive his tail is?

You had to have a secret detect thoughts scroll on you somewhere, he's positive, because your hand is palming his horn, another one of his most... reactive areas, pulling it just enough to twist his face from where it was firmly planted in his silk sheets.

Rolan didn't even realize he too had been rolling his hips, his body searching for an unconscious solution to his aching member. If it were possible for him to die of embarrassment, he's sure that's how he'd go, as you lean down to whisper against his ear.

"Someone's enjoying himself." It's the breaking point for Rolan.

He hadn't pushed down every single thought about you for the last gods-know-how-long just for it to finally happen like this! No, if this was going to happen it was going to happen properly.

At least, that was the last thought that ran through his head as you bend down, running your tongue over the delicate skin of his ear while your hips grind forcefully against his tail's ridged base.

He comes abruptly, with the most undignified sound he thinks he's ever heard. And he comes hard. Harder than any time he's found release with his hand, at least.

Rolan can't open his eyes, he can't face you after this it's too degrading. Surely you're disgusted or amused by his eagerness.

For all its wonders, Ramazith’s Tower offered a staggering lack of privacy. 

Perhaps few wizards had families; Rolan couldn’t think of another good reason why such a palace would have only one decent bedroom within its walls.

It hadn’t seemed like a hindrance the first days Cal and Lia moved in. They’d managed to find their alone time on the road from Elturel where privacy was nonexistent, hadn’t they?

After four weeks of Cal’s snoring and Lia’s constant tossing and turning in their beds beside his, Rolan felt like a bowstring ready to snap. Between the shared quarters and all of the newly inherited duties of managing Sorcerous Sundries, let alone cataloging the Tower itself, Rolan found himself…well. Out of time for his own needs. 

More bluntly, if Rolan didn’t get himself off in the next tenday, he feared he might actually burn down a wing of his brand new library from sheer sexual frustration. The thought didn’t even embarrass him at this point—that’s how absolutely desperate he’d grown.

And of course the dreams weren’t helping.

That made Rolan’s focus falter for a moment, and the books he was levitating to the floor above slammed into their shelf with far too much force. He cursed under his breath and concentrated fresh on the next stack of tomes beside him.

Of all the people for his subconscious to latch onto, why, why did it have to be Ember? He respected her and valued her friendship more than just about anyone’s. He looked forward to every moment he got to spend in her company, in fact. 

Yet lately, Rolan’s sleeping mind conjured up scenarios where he took her in every position on every surface imaginable.

Pressed into silky sheets—bent in half over his desk—on her hands and knees on the carpet, the wood floor, his own bed, Ember’s fists gripping the bedding beneath her as he—

“Hope you’ve got a good spot to hide up here!”

Rolan heard the jingle of bells behind him before he’d even turned from his work. Her voice sent a pang of mortification through him, as if she too might have glimpsed those images flashing through his mind’s eye.

Ember was dashing toward him from the Tower portal, still dressed in one of her stage costumes. She was barefoot save for a ring of little bells around each ankle, and her tail swung wildly behind her for balance as she ran into the room.

“What in the hells—” Rolan began, this time failing the final gesture of his spell. The tomes that he was carefully guiding upward lurched and crashed against the polished wood, toppling back down several floors. Rolan ducked aside just in time as they landed with a sharp thump at his feet.

“Explain,” he demanded curtly, knowing whatever story the bard had would be outlandish.

“That Aradin, remember?” Ember pulled up in front of him, clutching a stitch in her side. “Stupid bounty hunter? His crew’s downstairs. They seem very put out that he’s dead,” she added, letting out a breathless laugh. 

Rolan failed to see the humor. “You mean you led them here? From wherever you were doing your—” 

He tried and failed to find the right word, instead waving a hand around her figure. Ember’s attire revealed a strip of bare skin from her neck to her navel, and that sight had scattered Rolan’s thoughts around his skull like marbles.

“The Elfsong,” Ember supplied, not acknowledging his sudden fluster. “They didn’t recognize my stage disguise, but I overheard them planning to come here and shake you down for what’s owed them. You’re welcome for the head start,” she added, propping a fist on her hip.

Rolan tried to ignore the attitude as he bent to pick up his damaged books in a huff. “They do know Lorroakan’s dead too, correct? Whatever contract they had with him was never any of my business.”

Ember spread her arms wide in impatience. “I know that, Rolan, but they’re fucking idiots!”

“Let’s just call Aylin to stomp them to death,” Rolan muttered savagely, not altogether joking. 

Rolan had fended off Aradin’s rude threats for his entire apprenticeship, and now that he was Master of the Tower himself, he was in no mood for more of that lot barging in and demanding things. After watching the aasimar dispatch Lorroakan, Rolan suspected that Dame Aylin would share the feeling.

“Nice idea,” Ember allowed, “but unless you’d like blood on your new carpets, I suggest we make ourselves scarce. Like now. You know you’ve still got a portal down there practically labeled ‘Real Nightsong Hunters This Way’?” 

This brought Rolan up short with a curse; Ember had a terribly good point there. He could kick himself for not having the sense to fix that glaring security risk before now. 

Considering the slew of Gazette articles speculating wildly about how Ramazith’s Tower had fallen into his hands, perhaps it was wise not to add any other deaths to his first month as Master.

When he straightened, Ember was already casting around the cavernous interior for a suitable hiding spot. “There,” she pointed up suddenly. 

Apparently done trying to urge him on with words, Ember’s fingers clasped over his, and the next thing Rolan knew she was dragging him bodily up the staircase. The books under his arm tumbled again to the floor. 

Through his surprise, Rolan felt something wet between their palms. He glanced to find that her hand was spattered with blood.

“Did they hurt you?” Suddenly furious, Rolan nearly stumbled on a stair behind her. A handful of defensive spells sprang white-hot into his mind.

“Oh, no—” Ember dismissed the idea. “It’s not mine.”

That only raised more questions, but there was no chance to form them as she yanked him onto the open landing. When Ember made a beeline toward the narrow door between two ornate shelves, Rolan tried to object. “That’s only a—”

Ember threw the door open and practically shoved him inside. 

“—closet,” Rolan finished deadpan, even as the bard jostled in behind him, swinging the door to its latch behind her. The space was comically small with two people.

Or it would have been comical with someone else.

Instead, Rolan found himself suddenly pressed up far closer to Ember than he ever had been outside his own mind. Standing chest-to-chest, he was painfully aware of every spot where their limbs brushed together—especially when her hand accidentally swung against the robes at his thigh.

It finally made her pick up on the tension radiating around him. Ember cleared her throat, although her eyes were sparkling with amusement. “Unless you’ve got a better idea?” 

“No,” was all Rolan had time to say before the whirling sound of the portal below traveled up to their ears. The two of them froze still. Ember's eyes on his face went wide, as if it might help her hear behind her better.

Over Ember’s shoulder, Rolan could only see a thin vertical sliver of the lower dais through the crack in the closet door, but it was just enough. 

Into the room shuffled two men, one dark and one fair. Rolan indeed thought he recognized them from Aradin’s crew back at the Grove. They moved warily across the central floor with hands near their weapons, as if expecting an ambush. When the blonde-haired man turned slightly, Rolan glimpsed two fresh streaks of blood running from his nostrils. 

Almost as if someone with quick reflexes had jammed the heel of their hand against his nose in a defensive move, bloodying their palm in the process.

“I see,” Rolan whispered, partly to himself. “Any chance you instigated this whole thing?”

“He deserved it,” Ember whispered back with vehemence. “He called you a—” 

Their eyes met for a second, and just as Rolan’s heart began to pound at how close her face was, she glanced away.

“Let’s just say he had Aradin’s vocabulary,” Ember finished.

So she had bloodied a man’s nose to defend his honor? He should find it absurd, but at this moment, all Rolan could think was how pretty Ember looked with her jaw set in righteous indignation like that.

“I’m flattered,” Rolan told her, only half-joking. He glanced back through the crack in the door, partly to distract himself from her again. 

The two thugs had quickly given up any pretense of stealth in favor of searching the premises. Their unguarded footsteps were enough to track them, and after a short verbal exchange those heavy treads spread out to explore the floor below—far from Rolan and Ember’s hiding place.

“What if they steal something?” Ember whispered suddenly.

Of all Rolan’s concerns right now, that was by far the least pressing. “The stuff they’re looking for is all down in the vault. But I’d love to see them try, this place has enough defensive enchantments to flatten a troll, some my own magic. They’ll get knocked out if they so much as crack open a book. Though I doubt they can read,” Rolan added.

That made Ember laugh, a breathy and quiet sound—Rolan felt it against his cheek and hoped she wouldn’t notice the way he swallowed hard at the sensation. 

With the two intruders blundering about so loudly, it suddenly seemed like an unnecessary risk to keep the door cracked open to watch them. In one move Rolan reached around Ember’s arm for the doorknob, pulled it shut, and muttered a quick incantation. The lock glowed blue-white with a series of clicks, now magically secured from the inside.

It was a slight change, but it somehow made the cramped space feel far more intimate. The light streaming under the door was just enough for him to make out Ember’s face a mere foot from his own. 

Shelves packed with broken baubles of unidentified usefulness lined the walls around them, muffling the sound in the small space, everything but their breathing. Ember was close enough that Rolan felt her every exhale tickle his cheek.

“Now I guess we wait,” she said. 

Rolan nodded, then remembered she might not be able to see. “I suppose. Hopefully those idiots lose interest fast.”

“What about Cal and Lia?”

“They’re both at Alfira’s,” Rolan answered. Worry ran through him for a moment, but they wouldn’t be back for at least an hour. By any luck Aradin’s old crew would be long gone by then. Good gods, please. Rolan didn’t think he’d survive an hour in a confined space with Ember’s body brushing up against him without doing something immensely embarrassing.

There was another muffled pause as they both shifted on their feet. One of Ember’s bells gave a tiny jingle.

“So…what’s new with you?” Ember’s quiet voice shook with mirth. This whole situation was apparently all good fun for her.

Rolan found himself enjoying it for his own reasons, but not any he remotely wanted to admit. The slashing neckline in Ember’s shirt offered a very generous view of her chest from this angle, and it took most of his concentration not to stare. He shifted again in an effort to put more space between them—with little success.

“Nothing but the usual,” he told her, grasping at the distraction. “Organizing Lorroakan’s hoard of magical artifacts, putting the library in proper order. Preparing the Tower’s defenses for the army marching down on the city any day now.”

“Sounds stressful.” Ember frowned at him a bit. “Don’t you take any time for yourself? Have a little fun?”

“When exactly would I have a chance to do that,” Rolan laughed mirthlessly.

And that was precisely the problem, wasn’t it? 

As though Rolan’s subconscious hadn’t taken over after enough inaction on his part. As though exactly four nights ago he hadn’t experienced a dream shockingly similar to their current scenario, one where dream-Ember had instead dropped to her knees with lovely lips parted to take him.

As though Rolan hadn’t jolted awake at midnight, sweaty and tangled in his bedsheets, hard cock in his own grip—

That alarming line of thought was interrupted when one of Aradin’s men called to the other. This time, the voice came from just a few meters outside the door. 

Both of them froze at the sound. Rolan’s mind was actually distracted by the threat of a confrontation, though only for a moment.

Whether from nerves or something else, Ember’s frame shifted in closer against his. He thought he could almost feel the heavy beat of her heart through the muffled and dim space.

The motion notched their bodies together in a new way. With his next smallest of movements, Rolan felt one of her thighs nudging in between his legs.

No—no no no, not now—

Yet blood was already rushing south of his waist in a primal reaction to the contact. Rolan clamped down with all his mental training, willing his body not to do anything so humiliating while she was trapped up against him like this with potential danger just outside. He conjured up thoughts of death, and pain, and anything that might distract his touch-starved body from the destination it was already barrelling towards headlong. His tail tip flicked eagerly behind him, and he coiled it around his calf to hide his tell.

But she was so firm and warm against his groin, and despite his best efforts, Rolan felt himself stiffening against her under his robes. 

Ember’s eyebrows rose silently. Rolan felt the hottest blush blooming all over his face in response.

“Ignore that,” Rolan whispered curtly. Looking at any part of her only made his face burn even more, but it was hard to find anywhere else to look in their close quarters.

Ember bit and released her lower lip. “That’s going to be hard,” she whispered back. 

Her choice of words made him wish the floorboards would open up and swallow him. Gods, this was humiliating. 

“Do you always get this excited from the thrill of danger?” Ember continued in a teasing whisper.

“Now’s not the time,” Rolan hissed at her, trying to ignore the way she had angled herself slightly against his side. 

“Or maybe it’s the close quarters—”

“Hush—” Rolan was genuinely trying to listen, unsure whether the intruder had moved away or was close enough to hear their whispered exchange. He was in no state to concentrate on spellcasting at the moment.

As he strained his ears, one of his arms nervously bumped against Ember and actually grazed the soft curve of her breast. Her breath hitched against his ear.

Fucking hells. Rolan thought every bit of him could melt on the spot—all but the length between his legs, which was now hard as a rock against the side of Ember’s hip. Rolan tried to shrink back further against the shelving behind him, but there was nowhere left to go. 

Ember certainly made no move to give him space. “Didn’t know you had it in you,” she whispered coyly. “Honestly, I’m flattered.”

“This isn’t because—” Of you, Rolan wanted to tell her. But that seemed rather insulting, not to mention a bald-faced lie. He let out a shaky breath. “I’ve…not had much time to myself lately, that’s all.”

“Oh,” she replied. Rolan could practically feel Ember’s eyes on the side of his face. “Oh.”

A pause followed in which Rolan stared up at the dark closet ceiling and wished to disappear. Outside, there was a more distant crash and a yelp—one of the idiots triggering an arcane trap, no doubt. He felt a twinge of satisfaction. They were the whole reason he was stuck in this predicament.

“How long has it been?”

Rolan glanced down at Ember, whose face was tilted toward him sincerely.

“A few weeks,” he mumbled, then looked away again. “Almost four.”

“Damn,” Ember whispered.

“Yes,” Rolan said stiffly, continuing to avoid her gaze as prickling heat climbed up his neck. “So if we could just—wait here quietly.” 

Ember let out a low, thoughtful hum. Something about the sound made Rolan’s palms sweat where they hung at his sides. 

“How quiet can you be?” She asked him.

It took Rolan several moments to catch her meaning. He blinked at her in shock, certain she must be trying to tease him again. “What do you—”

“Because we’re alone right now,” she interrupted. She spread her palms to each side, as far as the cramped walls allowed. “And you've got nowhere else to be at the moment, right?”

She was so close Rolan’s eyes had to flick back and forth between hers. “That’s insane,” Rolan said hoarsely.

“Is it?” Ember sounded quite serious, though she kept her tone to a whisper. “Listen, Rolan, you’re not subtle. I’ve noticed, everyone who cares about you has. You’ve been impatient, and snippy, and Lia said you keep forgetting projects in the middle to start new ones.”

“When did you talk to—”

She didn’t slow for his question, and Rolan felt her hand actually curl up over his shoulder. His skin glowed with heat under her touch.

“For your own sanity, you need to get off,” Ember finished.

“I’m not going to—while you’re standing right here,” Rolan choked out. His mouth refused to repeat the phrase.

Ember was so close that he actually saw the color travel up her cheeks. “Rolan, seriously…you’ve been staring down my shirt every ten seconds. And you’re practically impaling me with that thing in your pants.”

All Rolan could do was squeeze his eyes shut with a small groan of humiliation. “I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” she told him, and with his eyes closed, he heard a new note in her voice. “I’m telling you I can help.” 

As she spoke, a soft hand closed across Rolan’s mouth. 

His eyes flew open in shock to find hers. Ember’s luminous blue-gold gaze looked at him from under her lashes, sending a wave of heat rippling and licking across the skin under his robes.

With heart pounding in his chest, Rolan connected the dots. She could help. She could keep him quiet.

As his breath panted faster under her hand, Ember tilted her body slightly against his. Before he could think, she moved her free arm as if to reach between his legs.

Rolan shook his head frantically. If she touched him there, this would all be over. Not to mention…some small part of his mind admitted…he wanted to feel Ember’s hands there for the first time under different circumstances. Some night when he could take his time with her on even footing.

She had withdrawn her hand immediately at his indication, resting it gently around on his back instead. It was almost a sweet gesture—until she used the leverage of her pressed palm to roll her hips very slightly over his trapped thigh.

The small motion slid his hardness against her side through layers of clothing, and the simple friction made him throb. Rolan moaned at the back of his throat and felt the vibration stopped up by her hand. His tail had uncurled from his leg to shudder and flick in excitement again, nearly knocking something glass off the shelf behind him. Desperate to keep quiet, Rolan wound his tail up Ember’s leg with the tip brushing against her thigh. 

She bit one side of her lip in response. At that sight, had her fingers not been clasped firmly over his mouth, Rolan would have closed the distance to kiss her.

While he panted and wished, Ember’s hand trailed down the back of his robes with no particular goal in mind. But when her fingers met with bare skin at the base of his tail, Rolan jerked involuntarily as a strangled groan rose from his chest. 

The fingers of her other hand clenched tighter over his mouth. Ember stared at him, eyes wide with surprise and something like delight. 

The last working bit of Rolan’s brain recalled her upbringing among non-Tieflings. Was it possible—could she not realize what a very sensitive area that was?

She appeared to be getting the picture either way. Without moving her hand from his lips, she curled four fingers ever so lightly to cup around the base of his tail.

“Wait,” Rolan managed to gasp out against Ember’s hand, and she slid it down to his chin. His length throbbed painfully against his trousers, pressing obscenely into her thigh, yet she made no move to adjust positions.

But Ember did hesitate as she watched him. “Does that hurt?”

“No, hells—” Rolan shook his head in a daze. “Far…far from it.”

Ember looked over his face with almost curiosity, and then her lovely fingers squeezed slightly around him.

“Wait!” Rolan repeated, and his tone shot up to a quiet whine. He was past trying to control his reactions, trembling and heated with weeks of pent-up desperation, but it felt vital to salvage what shreds of his dignity remained before she tipped him over the edge. And she had him very, very close.

“This isn't how I wanted—with you—but it’s been a gods damned month between everything, and Cal and Lia—and I’m master of the Tower now, and there’s the Absolute—”

Whether or not Rolan’s whispered and disjointed rambling made any sense, Ember had the grace to watch him from under her lashes until he sputtered out. In the next moment, she uttered the sultriest thing he’d ever heard. 

“Honestly, Rolan, I just want to watch you come all over your robes.” 

With that, her grip tugged firmly at the spot where his tail met his ass. 

If not for her other hand clamping over his mouth again in the same motion, Rolan would have let out the most humiliating whimper of pure relief. Instead the noise was a muffled strangle of sound as his body gave her exactly what she wanted.

With a full-body shudder, Rolan twitched and spilled inside his trousers. His fingers clutched and dug at Ember’s hips with a mind of their own, pulling her forward shamelessly, allowing him to finally grind against her thigh in earnest as he came.

The wave of long-awaited release shot all the way up his spine with an intensity that made his knees buckle. Ember pressed his hips back against the shelves with her own just enough to catch him, sending the precarious tinkle of metal and glass around the small space—but her hand pumped a few more times over his tail to tease every last wave of pleasure from between his legs.

Rolan’s limbs trembled and shook from the force of the most satisfying climax he’d had in years. As white stars behind his eyelids popped and cleared, hot, sticky spend pooled in the fabric between his legs…then rapidly turned cold and mortifying. All Rolan could do was hang his head over Ember’s shoulder and pant against her hand.

At this moment, he’d give half his tower to know a good Banishment hex.

But if Ember was put off by his loss of control, she certainly didn't show it. Instead she let out a sound like a satisfied purr; she finally released his twitching, oversensitive tail to wrap both arms around his neck.

Rolan felt drunk in his afterglow, too spent to do anything but loop his arms around Ember’s waist and bury his flushed face into her shoulder. He realized through the haze that he'd heard the portal activate a while ago, though it hadn't registered then. They'd been alone in the tower for some time.

“Feel better?” Ember asked, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

It was difficult to answer. On the one hand, he could sob from the relief. On the other, Rolan had just done the most unimpressive thing against the leg of the very woman he wanted to impress most.

But Ember hadn't pushed him away in disgust. She was even closer than before, the length of her body pressed up comfortably against his as she hugged him. If not for the cold wet stain soaking from his clothes into hers, the position would be quite nice.

Rolan cast a simple spell as his energy returned, and the fabric between them was instantly warm and dry again.

“I've felt worse,” Rolan admitted as he reluctantly drew her away. Ember had begun to feel a little too nice pressed up against him; he wasn't taking any chances on a repeat.

“Good.” Ember looked down to brush herself off a little, and Rolan wondered whether he was imagining the darker color in her cheeks.

Without another word, Ember wheeled to open the door and accidentally thumped up against the unyielding wood. “Ouch—”

“Sorry,” Rolan said hastily, releasing the arcane lock with another quick spell and a flash of light. The door swung open.

They both stumbled slightly on the way out, blinded by the daylight streaming through the highly arched windows after so long in a dark enclosed space.

Ember walked ahead first with a hand shielding her eyes. “Well, looks all right out here…they didn’t try to trash the place, at least.” 

Rolan glanced at her to respond, then stopped short.

He gaped open-mouthed at the back of her. From between the seams of her costume, Ember’s tail looped up in a perky and exaggerated S-curve. The sight was utterly adorable and incredibly tantalizing all at once. It also offered a very nice view of the curves of her hips, and Rolan could only blink and swallow hard as his mind whirred through several possibilities to land on the obvious one.

Had she enjoyed that?

Apparently unaware that her tail was curling and swaying at him in a come-hither motion, Ember turned back to him with a bright, unsuspecting smile. Rolan rushed to compose his face.

“You should come to my show this week,” she told him. “It’ll be fun. Bring Cal and Lia, relax a little. You’ve gotten all pent up in here,” Ember added, waving an arm around the cavernous tower.

He would say she had no idea, but in fact, Ember now knew intimately well. 

Thanks to the electrifying realization that she had some feelings of her own about the matter, Rolan was able to manage a shaky laugh. 

“Did they even do the readings? Half of these are wrong…I’ll have to regive all the illusory lectures…”

Rolan’s brow furrowed deeper as he read down the page. Frustration practically radiated from the way he hunched over his desk, and she wished for the umpteenth time that he would just take a break.

“I’m sure they’ll get it with time,” she told him, gently rubbing his shoulders.

Inwardly, she found it difficult to feel concerned about his students’ grades at the moment. She was far too busy admiring how good Rolan looked when he was a bit disheveled. 

It was a rare sight; he preferred to keep his appearance clean and tidy at all times, his robes neatly pressed and hair half-pulled back to keep it out of his eyes. 

Right now, this was about as unkempt as she’d ever seen Rolan outside their bedroom. His hair was loose from its tie. As he worked, one lock swung forward between his horns, and he impatiently swept it away with the feather of his quill. He had pushed the sleeves of his underrobe up to his elbows. She watched the sinews of his forearm flex under his crimson skin as he scrawled a severe note on his student's parchment.

She knew his state was a testament to the stress he’d been under lately. Beyond her love for the petulant wizard seated in front of her, she didn’t have much personal experience with wizardry. But Rolan had said enough to impress upon her how important these upcoming exams were for his young pupils. For the oldest of them, their results could mean the difference between continuing their studies or finding another vocation. Rolan took the task of preparing them quite seriously. 

Perhaps too seriously, she thought to herself, watching the muscle of his jaw flex with concentration. The candles standing beside his desk were burned down to dripping puddles of wax.

He needed a good distraction, and that she could help with. She crossed forearms along the back of his chair and perched her chin on his shoulder.

“Come to bed?” She asked him. “You’ve been grading for hours.”

Rolan hardly seemed to hear her. "In a moment," he murmured.

It wasn't his usual response to a proposition. Teasing or enthusiasm she was used to, but flat out disinterest was new. It stung a little more than it had a right to.

She knew she should respect his work at hand. If he didn't look so downright frazzled, she might have.

Instead, she gave into the temptation to take advantage of his concentration. She slid one arm down around Rolan's shoulders and leaned in to tuck the curtain of his hair back behind one long red ear.

Then she kissed along the line of it from lobe to pointed tip. She'd always been fond of Rolan's Infernal gifts, particularly his sharply tapered ears—even more so as one of the few people allowed to appreciate them. His usual style kept them tucked and hidden behind his hair.

Rolan sighed slowly as her lips made their soft journey, just enough to satisfy her that she was getting to him. She knew she was being a nuisance, but it had been days since she had him to herself. Rolan was passionate about his work—she couldn’t help selfishly wanting a little of it for herself tonight.

“You’ve been sleeping at your desk too much lately,” she murmured against the shell of his ear. 

“Can’t be helped,” Rolan replied, although the fingers of his free hand raised to the arm she had curled over his collar. “These exams are the most consequential step in an apprenticeship. I’d be a worthless archmage if I let my students arrive at Blackstaff unprepared.”

“Rolan, there’s no way that would happen.” She broke away slightly to look at the thick stack of assignments he was grading. “Don’t you think…maybe you’re overworking them? You’re definitely overworking yourself.” 

“I’m fine,” Rolan said a bit sharply, turning to the next student’s parchment. “I can certainly handle a little paperwork.” 

She pouted slightly at the back of his head, then leaned in to place a kiss under his ear. “That’s not what I meant.”

Rolan let out a short huff as he set down his quill. Feeling a bit smug with herself, she let his grip over her arm draw her around beside him, quite unsuspecting.

Before she could tense her relaxed muscles, Rolan’s grip jerked her down. One of her hands flew to grab the far edge of the wooden seat, but she still landed hard on his lap, her back thumping against his chest.

“After all our time together, I’d expect you to understand the duties of an archwizard,” Rolan scolded her. His voice reverberated against her back as he tucked her slightly to one of his legs so he could keep working. Then his fingers plucked up his quill, even as his other forearm wrapped tighter below her navel to keep her firmly planted. 

After a week starved from his attention, the humbling position made her face grow warm. "Rolan, I do understand. I just think y—"

“Good,” Rolan cut her off. “Then sit still and behave.” He was ordering her in the same tone she sometimes heard him use with his apprentices—as if she was nothing but another naughty pupil.

She bit her lip. That could work. Oh, could it ever. “All right.”

After that, they both sat in silence. The steady scratch of quill tip against parchment was the only sound drifting through the candlelight. She kept herself perched quietly on Rolan’s thighs, watching the neat movements of his writing hand, feeling the steady beat of his heart between her shoulder blades. Of all the positions she hoped to find herself in tonight, fully clothed and trapped on his lap wasn't one of them.

But she could certainly work with it. 

Carefully, as if just adjusting to a more comfortable position, she wiggled her hips up higher against his lap. She felt the muscle in Rolan’s forearm clench slightly over her, but he said nothing as he turned to another page.

Testing his patience, she scooted back toward him again. This time she pressed her palms against his thighs for balance, letting her hips bounce slightly down against him. The game was rapidly becoming unsubtle.

It wasn’t lost on her wizard. “That won't get you anything,” Rolan warned her.

But despite his words, she could already feel him stirring underneath her. Lovely heat coiled in her stomach in response. “Will from where I’m sitting,” she answered back saucily.

“Hmm.” His monotone hum reverberated against her back, but Rolan didn’t look up from the note he was scribbling. However disappointing his verbal responses, Rolan’s body gave him away the same way it always did. 

It only made her braver. She leaned forward on an elbow as if to read his work. In the same motion, she nudged her hips back to press herself more firmly against the growing hardness under his robes, dragging her center across his clothed thigh at the same time. She’d prefer to make use of the lovely ridges near his knee, but that would have to wait for another night.

“Take off your clothes.”

She blinked at him over her shoulder. “What?” Surely she had misheard—Rolan’s expression was impassive, eyes still on the pages scattered over his desk.

“Take off your clothes,” he calmly repeated, still not looking at her. “Now.”

If he was calling her bluff, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction. Slowly, she leaned back against his chest. She would go along with whatever game he wanted to play. 

She began with her bodice. Her fingers ran down the lacings, plucking them open like harp strings, feeling the heat already starting to pool between her thighs in anticipation. With her head leaned back over Rolan’s shoulder, she could feel the steady tickle of his breath down her collar and chest, though he was still steadfastly marking the parchment before him. 

Rolan was studiously ignoring her, even as she undressed. It was new, and it made something shy and uncertain coil in her chest. When they were together normally he liked to be the one removing her clothes. He practically insisted on it. 

But tonight he made no move, apparently content to let her take as much or as little time as she liked.

She favored the latter. With that thought in mind, she pressed herself forward to shuck the unlaced bodice back over her shoulders. Rolan’s arm over her loosened to allow her undershirt to follow. When both garments were discarded on the floor beside his chair, she leaned back against him, bare above the waist. She couldn’t help arching her chest up a little as Rolan’s loose hair tickled against her neck.

"Everything," Rolan directed her. His arm remained draped unmoving over her belly. He either didn't notice her body language or was choosing to ignore the invitation to grope her. 

It made her feel even needier for him. Perhaps that's why she wiggled out of her pants and smallclothes so eagerly, nearly tipping sideways off Rolan’s clothed lap in the process. His palm splayed up against her sternum to catch her, and the sharp nail of his thumb pressed into one of her breasts. A small gasp escaped her.

Rolan made a noise low in his throat, and when his hand raised from her chest toward her chin, she understood his intention with eagerness. 

She parted her lips to take two of his long, slender fingers into her mouth, licking and swirling her tongue to wet them completely. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked his digits in deeper over her tongue. Rolan needed reminding of what her mouth could do, and she was pleased to feel his length twitch under her in response. She hummed in satisfaction over his fingers.

Rolan pulled them from her mouth then, and she felt a string of saliva stretch and land across her chin. Before she could wipe it away, two slickened fingertips nudged at the hot apex of her thighs.

She let out a needy groan as her head tipped back over Rolan’s shoulder; her warm cheek pressed against his. She let her thighs fall open for him. But Rolan only continued to make soft and idle circles over her folds, dragging the wetness that was already pooling there up around her entrance, not quite hitting the aching spot above. Her hips rolled forward greedily toward his palm.

“I told you, sit still.” How could he possibly have the nerve to keep writing at a moment like this? She did her best to obey his command, but the way Rolan’s breath had quickened behind her made it difficult.

“Rolan…” His name left her in another groan, this time almost begging. She arched her back to curl an arm around behind him. Her fingers found the curve of one of his horns, and her grip tugged up and down the hard ridged length of it—wishing it was the hard ridged length nudging up against her backside.

In one movement, Rolan’s writing hand swept up the stack of papers from the desk in front of them and deposited them on the floor. 

His grip on her arms was rougher than she was used to as he jerked their connected bodies upright, but it was somehow exactly what she craved. She heard his chair clatter to the floor behind them—her hands flew to the now-empty desk for balance as she landed on her feet.

“I’m a very busy man, you know,” Rolan hissed into her ear; he kept her facing away with nails dimpling against the flesh of her hips. “I don't have time for these games.”

“Sorry,” she lied, breathless. “Let me make it up to you?” She reached eagerly back for him, wanting to pull him closer by his robes, before something drew her palms together behind her back.

Rolan’s tail coiled around her wrists in a makeshift binding. Its soft ridges rubbed over her skin, the sudden friction causing her to freeze in place.

"You can tell me to stop.” 

Rolan’s voice was suddenly low, and she glanced back over her shoulder to his face. His eyes burned molten gold, but she caught hesitation beneath and realized what he was looking for. She nodded her head yes.

Then the palm of Rolan’s hand settled between her shoulder blades, and steadily, he pushed down.

Her body bent at the waist over the hard surface, goosebumps tickling her skin where her bare chest met the cool wood. She shivered from the cold, and more so from the delicious uncertainty of whatever he was planning to do with her. The firm coil of Rolan’s tail trailed from her wrists across the bare skin of her back.

"Do you know how infuriating you can be?" Rolan's voice chided behind her, even as his hands on her ass massaged and spread her apart for him. "I have a great deal of work to do, yet you insist on interrupting."

"Why don't you give me something to shut me up, then?" She did her best to tease back, but she could only imagine the view Rolan had of her slick folds as his hands pulled to expose her. She ached for his fingers and mouth and cock—for any part of him to touch her again and provide release.

"Always so greedy for my attention," Rolan said, as if he could read her thoughts. "High time you learned a little discipline."

The warmth of one hand left her. Then, without warning, his palm reconnected with a stinging slap against her ass. The shock lurched her body forward, grinding the ache between her legs against the hard edge of his desk. A shameless mewl escaped her throat.

“Hush,” Rolan tutted softly from behind. “I run a reputable business here, you know. Unless you want everyone below to learn what a state you’re in?”

“Oh yes—” From her prone position, she still tried to crane her neck back at him. “I’m sure your patrons would love to know that the new mage of Ramazith’s Tower is a perverted little—”

His palm smacked against her a second and third time, once on either side, the lewd sounds echoing all around the cavernous room and causing her words to stutter into an incoherent moan. She just barely bit it back this time. 

“Good girl,” Rolan hummed in approval, and she couldn’t ignore the way her insides quivered from the praise. He smoothed both hands over the heated skin on her flanks as if rewarding her obedience. “Now spread for me.”

Incredible how four little words could make her throb and drip for him. It was vulgar and irresistible, and she obeyed wordlessly, shifting her bare feet further apart to expose herself more fully to him. The rush of cool air between her legs was almost too much to bear. 

There was the soft rustle of movement behind her—she could practically feel Rolan’s body heat moving closer. In the next moment the length underneath his robes pressed firmly in between her legs. 

She dug teeth into her lower lip to restrain another wanton groan. He was so hard already—was it all from this little game? Sweet hells, if only she'd tried his patience like this before. She couldn’t spare a thought to wonder, could only fixate on the anticipation of Rolan filling her. Her cunt throbbed against the fabric between them at the thought.

She heard Rolan inhale through his teeth. "So desperate even now. Gods, you're shameless." But his hands traveled up the arch of her back, his softly filed nails whispering against the skin under her bound arms from her ass to her shoulder blades, as if relishing the position he had her in.

Then his grip cupped down over each of her hip bones, and he ground her back against his hardness.

The gesture dragged the bare front of her against the cool wood surface, and a shuddering exhale fell from her lips. “Fuck, Rolan—”

“Is this not what you wanted?” Rolan asked her, calling down patience from gods knew where. “Tell me, then.”

"I want you to fuck me,” she gasped out, ready to be done with the teasing. The words formed a heated fog across the wood surface underneath her.

"Ask nicely, then." One of Rolan’s thumbs pulled at her flesh, no doubt giving himself another view of her wet slit, teasing her open again without touching her where she needed it most.

“Please—” Maybe she'd never been more desperate for him; or maybe she'd always known he would love it. "Master Rolan, please fuck me—"

Rolan's hands were gone from her in a flash, and she heard and felt them working on the laces of his pants.

She’d never been more ready for him. Shamefully eager, she craned her head as best she could from her bent and bound position to watch him reach through the slits in his robe to unfasten his pants. Then his beautiful red cock sprang free from the fabric, deliciously hard and lined with those angled, concentric ridges that she knew could make her see stars. Her mouth watered at the sight of him. 

She must look positively desperate for it, because Rolan was watching her face with a dark glint of approval in his eyes. As he did, one of his elegant hands closed around his cock and pumped lazily. She squirmed with impatience.

"Say it again." Rolan's dark-set eyes watched her with something like anticipation, his baritone husky with desire.

Her mind was so addled from the delicious sight of him stroking himself that it took a moment to grasp what he was requesting.

"You like that?" She asked suddenly, licking her lips. "When I call you Master?”

Rolan's hips bucked forward into his own grip, almost involuntary. Despite her position naked and prone on his desk, she felt a kind of power tip back into her hands.

“Because that's what you are, Rolan…” She looked back at him from under her lashes, wanting to see what the words might do to him. “Master of this tower, Master of the Weave—Master of me—”

Rolan's face was flushing burgundy, his eyes smoldering into her as if hanging on every word. His tail unwound from her wrists to shudder and flick behind him in a motion she’d grown to recognize as pure desire.

“Just look at what you do to me,” she breathed. Wetness leaked down her inner thighs as she spoke. “No one else fucks me like you. You're so good—so powerful—fuck, just please Rolan, I need you—”

With a guttural sound, Rolan pressed and sheathed himself in her completely.

The abrupt stretch between her legs made her cry out and clutch at the far edge of his desk. Rolan hadn't readied her with his fingers the way he usually did—very little about tonight was usual. His ridges were hot and tight against her walls, but the ache was exactly what she craved.

Before she had fully adjusted, Rolan pulled out from her almost completely, and then his hips snapped back into her a second and third time. The pressure almost made her sob in relief.

Rolan’s hands landed on either side of hers, sharp nails digging into the wood underneath them as his body pressed down over her. He was truly, finally fucking her; she felt the silk of his robes drag against her overheated skin with each thrust, and then the shift of his body hit a new angle inside her. 

His tip abruptly met with that deep and sensitive spot, pounding into the aching nerves there again and again. Her eyes rolled back with an unrestrained moan.

"Again," he panted, his face close behind her ear. The control in his voice was fading with each jerk of his hips.

Her skin was on fire; all she could concentrate on was the ridged length of him rapidly filling and stretching her, each quick thrust grinding and rocking her clit against the smooth wood under their bodies.

"Master Rolan, plea-se—" The last word was jerked in two by the force of him fucking her into his desk—"just like this, fuck, I’ve wanted this for weeks—you’re so—so fucking good—”

The words were babbling incoherently from her, but they seemed to be what he needed. Rolan let out a broken groan into the skin of her back as he twitched and spilled inside her. But he didn’t slow his rhythm. Instead his hands gripped either side of her hips, sharp nails digging into her skin, fucking his spend deep into her with driving force. 

It was possessive and raw and hot and the feeling made her own orgasm crash down around her, her walls spasming and clutching around him as if to keep him there. She felt the gush of heat from her center leaking out all around him and spilling down her legs.

Her arms and legs trembled weakly; she was grateful for the support of Rolan’s desk holding her up, hard and cold though it was. She gathered enough strength to glance back at him as he straightened and pulled out of her, just in time to catch Rolan admiring the way his come dripped from her opening.

“I love you,” she panted up at him. “That was…gods, Rolan.”

He looked just as dazed as she felt as he stood with hands still resting on her hips for balance. But Rolan said nothing in response, only drew one of her limp hands from the desk up to his lips. Then he shook his shoulders slightly as if to rouse his senses, tucking himself back into his pants.

Dipping a hand to the floor, Rolan thrust a bundle of her clothes unceremoniously toward her. “Clean yourself up. I have more work to do.” 

She would have laughed if she wasn’t so spent. He was being intentionally brusque; perhaps embarrassed by how far he’d let himself go. The lingering flush on his cheeks and the way his outstretched arm shook both undercut the attempt slightly. 

She straightened up on wobbling legs to pluck the clothes from him. Despite his rudeness, she felt satisfied with the knowledge that the heavy smell of sex and the image of her spread open for him on that very desk would make concentrating on his menial paperwork a near-impossible task.

Before he’d let go of her wrinkled garments, she pulled him by them into a quick kiss. “Come to bed soon,” she told him firmly. “Or else I’ll come back and carry you there.” 

Rolan exhaled through his nose, the bare hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Give me an hour.”

An unthinkable wait after the lay he’d just given her. But she made no complaints as she turned—it wouldn’t do to let him have too much power.