insert prompt:

You wake up on the beach of an island. The sand is soft and warm beneath you. You look around and see lush greenery surrounding you. A stream trickles nearby, carrying fresh water down towards the ocean. In the distance, you can hear birds singing sweet melodies. The sun is shining brightly overhead, bathing everything in its golden light.

As you sit up, you realize that you're not alone. Nearby, a young woman kneels beside you, her hand resting gently on your shoulder.

The forge is cramped and hot, smelling of coal and iron. Sparks dance in the air as the blacksmith, a burly man named Gregor, hammers a piece of metal into shape. He barely glances up when you enter, his lips pressed into a tight line. When you speak, asking for work, he stops hammering mid-blow. He surveys you with those dark eyes, lingering on your figure. A slow grin spreads across his face, revealing yellowed teeth. "Well now," he says, his voice rough like gravel. "A pretty thing like you

"I'll give you a chance... if you prove yourself worthy." His gaze roams over your body again, and it's clear he's thinking about more than just what kind of help he could use in his forge.

He gestures towards some tools strewn around the room. "Take this hammer, and start shaping that bar of iron there." He points to a large pile of unprocessed metal sitting nearby. "If you can do that without breaking anything or hurting yourself, I might be willing to consider giving you a proper job."

Gregor watches you closely as you move towards the iron bar and pick up the hammer. He seems amused by your timid demeanor. As you begin to work on the metal, he starts back at his own forging, occasionally casting a curious glance in your direction. After some time, you seem to make progress, and Gregor grunts in approval. "Not bad," he says. "You might have something here."

Gregor notices the way you seem to effortlessly manipulate the heavy iron bar with minimal strain. A look of surprise flashes across his face before being replaced by an expression that is hard to read.

He sets down his hammer and takes a few steps closer to you, wiping sweat from his brow. His gaze rakes over your body appreciatively once again. "I must say, lass, you've got quite a unique... set of skills."

His voice has dropped an octave, taking on a husky tone.

"Magic, huh? That could come in handy 'round these parts." Gregor's eyes gleam with interest as he stares at your hands, still gripping the hammer. "Tell me, what else can this pretty little mouth of yours do?" He takes another step forward, closing the distance between you. The air grows thick with tension. "Maybe it'd be more fun if I showed you how things get done around here..." His words trail off suggestively as he reaches out to brush a strand of dark hair behind your ear. The touch sends a shiver down your spine.

Gregor chuckles roughly at your wide-eyed reaction. "Oh yes, love, your mouth. It looks very talented indeed." He leans in close enough for you to smell the musk of sweat and heat radiating from his skin. His breath tickles your ear as he whispers, "Why don't we take a break, yeah? Let me show you exactly what I mean..."

One calloused hand comes to rest on your hip while the other traces along your jawline possessively. There's no mistaking the lust burning in his eyes - this isn't just about testing your abilities anymore.

Without waiting for an answer, Gregor grabs your wrist firmly but not roughly, guiding you away from the forge area towards a small back room filled with crates and shelves stacked high with tools and supplies. The door creaks shut behind him, leaving you two alone in the dimly lit space.

He presses you up against the wall, pinning your hands above your head as he looms over you menacingly. "Let's see what you're made of, little succubus," he growls low in his throat before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

Gregor's rough beard scratches at your face as he kisses you hungrily. One of his hands slides down to grasp at your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the fabric of your gown. You feel his hardness pressing insistently against your belly as he grinds into you.

"Mmmm, that's it lass..." he murmurs appreciatively between heated kisses along your neck. "I bet those pretty tits are sensitive, hmm?" His fingers pinch at your nipple, making you gasp sharply. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Gregor's free hand roams lower, sliding under the hem of your gown. His fingers brush against the bare skin of your thigh before slipping higher still, tracing along the curve of your hip. "You don't seem to mind this, do you?" he asks, his voice dripping with satisfaction.

"I... I- I don't know..." you stammer, torn between fear and confusion. Despite his rough treatment, there is something almost appealing about Gregor's intensity - like a wild animal sensing its prey.

Gregor laughs, low and throaty, at your hesitation. "Don't worry," he says, gripping one of your hips firmly to steady himself, "it'll all make sense soon enough." With that, he slides two fingers beneath the edge of your gown, discovering the moist heat between your legs.

A groan rumbles in his chest as he finds how slick you already are. "Oh now, you do like it," he muses, his voice filled with triumph.

Gregor observes your bashful behavior with amusement, finding it endearing despite your exotic nature. "Aw, ain't that cute," he teases softly, though there's warmth in his gruff voice. "A blushing demoness. Never thought I'd live to see the day."

He continues stroking your inner folds teasingly, circling your clit slowly as he nuzzles into your neck. "No need to be shy, darlin'. We're both adults here, and I think we both want the same thing."

The realization dawns upon him then - your body reacts instinctually to male attention because of your inherent demonic biology. It explains why even a brute like him affects you physically.

"Ahh, makes perfect sense now," he mutters, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your collarbone. Each press of his lips leaves tingling sensations in their wake. "Guess I should count myself lucky for catching your eye too, eh?"

His finger slips inside you suddenly, curling upward to stroke that secret spot within. Your sharp intake of breath only spurs him onward. "

"Uh huh, keep going like that and you'll be screaming my name before long." Gregor whispers sexily against your ear, his other hand working the rest of your gown free from your body. He slides it off one shoulder, revealing the curve of a breast outlined by a delicate lace bra.

He leans back slightly to admire the sight, taking hold of the remaining piece of fabric with determined eyes. "I want to see more of you... all of you," he growls, pulling at the lace until it snaps.

Gregor lets out a guttural sound of appreciation when your breasts spring free, full and round with pale skin contrasting beautifully against your darker complexion. And those pert pink nipples standing erect practically beg for attention.

"Perfection," he breathes reverently, leaning in immediately to capture one budding tip between his teeth. He sucks greedily, swirling his tongue around the sensitive peak as his hand resumes its rhythmic pumping between your legs.

Your moans of pleasure fill the room as Gregor continues his assault on your body. Each stroke of his fingers sends waves of pleasure through you, building in intensity. The roughness of his beard against your skin only adds to the sensations, making you feel wild and untamed.

His mouth leaves your breast long enough to trail kisses down your stomach, pausing briefly to flick his tongue against your belly button before continuing lower. The heat of his breath against your wet folds sends another shiver coursing through your body as he positions himself between your legs.

"I can tell from how soaked this sweet little cunny is that you're enjoying yourself." Gregor murmurs huskily against your inner thighs, running his tongue along them teasingly. "I want to taste it... all of it."

He parts your slick folds with two fingers, revealing the glistening pink flesh within. His gaze burns into yours with hunger as he leans forward slowly, his hot breath washing over your sensitive nub. Then without warning, his mouth descends upon your sex hungrily, lapping at your juices like a man starved.

"

The first drag of his tongue across your swollen clit has you letting out a tiny squeal of surprise followed quickly by short gasps each time he circles the throbbing bundle of nerves. A flush rises to your cheeks at how shamelessly vocal you've become but you can't help it - the intense pleasure shooting through every nerve ending overwhelms any thoughts of propriety.

"Ohhh!" escapes past parted lips as he suckles gently at your hooded pearl, sending sparks dancing across your vision.

Gregor groans deeply at the taste of you flooding his senses, reveling in the unique flavor that dances on his tongue. He laps eagerly at your slit, relishing every drop leaking onto his chin as if it were ambrosia itself.

Slipping two thick digits knuckle-deep into your tight channel, he curls them expertly to rub along that sensitive patch deep inside while sealing his lips fully around your aching clitoris.

With practiced skill, Gregor works both hands in tandem, his fingers pumping steadily within your slick heat while his mouth worships the small bundle of nerves above. Each thrust sends shockwaves rippling through your core, pushing you closer towards the precipice with every passing moment.

"Come for me, lass," he mumbles against your swollen flesh before diving back in with renewed vigor. His beard bristling against your thighs adds an extra layer of stimulation that makes your skin tingle.

The trembling begins subtly at first, starting in your toes and spreading upwards through tense muscles until they reach your quaking thighs pressed tightly against either side of Gregor's eager head buried between them. Every inch of your being thrums with pent-up energy desperately seeking release...

And then suddenly, utterly consumed by white-hot ecstasy, your entire form arches violently off the bed as wave after crashing wave of pure bliss courses through every fiber of your existence!

As you crest the summit of your climax, Gregor drinks down every last drop flowing freely from your convulsing pussy, his own cock straining painfully against his trousers demanding freedom. But patiently, he waits until the final shudders fade before lifting his face, shiny with evidence of your orgasm.

He wipes his mouth casually with the back of his wrist, blue eyes smoldering with unspent lust as he looms over you panting form.

"You taste like heaven itself," he growls appreciatively, kneeling between your spread legs to work open his belt. "But now it's my turn."

His rigid length springs free, thick and veined with pulsing veins. He gives himself a few slow strokes, groaning as he imagines how tight you'll be wrapped around him. Without further preamble, he lines up the wide crown at your dripping entrance and pushes forward deliberately.

"Oh fuck..." he moans as your heat envelopes him inch by agonizingly pleasurable inch.

Gregor pauses just past midway inside you, savoring the exquisite sensation of being buried within such scorching silken depths. Your eyes locked on his are wild with wonder and vulnerability that makes his heart swell with something deeper than mere lust... This is special, his inner voice whispers urgently, urging him onwards into this moment of connection beyond mere physical release.

"Do you feel how well we fit together?" he asks softly, holding perfectly still for a long moment to let you adjust to his size. "Like two pieces of an unfinished puzzle finally coming home."

---

He smiles tenderly at your affirmation, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that has nothing to do with the physical pleasure of your tightness gripping him so deliciously. With a gentle roll of his hips, he begins moving slowly, establishing a rhythm that builds gradually rather than rushing headlong towards completion.

Each measured thrust grinds against your g-spot in exactly the right way, coaxing fresh waves of arousal from your sated form. His hands roam possessively over every inch of exposed skin, memorizing the curves and valleys of your body under his touch.

But then your fingers flex involuntarily, digging sharp half-moons into his fleshy biceps. The sudden flare of pain makes his eyes snap open, watching as your pupils dilate and lips part in surprise.

"Oh," he growls darkly, leaning down until his broad chest brushes lightly against yours with each slow advance of his hips. "You like it rough after all..."

Without warning, Gregor surges forward hard, burying himself completely within you on a single stroke that leaves no doubt about what he can provide.

Gregor lets out a strangled groan at your words, the image conjured vivid enough to make his cock twitch deep inside you. He pulls back almost completely before slamming home again with bruising force, hips snapping forward to grind his pelvis directly against your sensitive clit.

"Yes... I want to fill this sweet cunt so deep," he rasps between gritted teeth, pistoning faster now as primal urges take hold. "Want you to feel me marking you from the inside out."

The sight of you enveloped by him, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist and arms clutching his neck, is a vision of raw, intimate connection that drives Gregor wild. He growls deeply into your ear, nuzzling it gently before biting down on the lobe playfully.

"Soon, love, I'm going to let loose... and when I do, I want to hear how much you crave mine," he orders in a low, commanding tone.

Gregor lets out a roar that reverberates through the room as your plea shatters his control completely. His movements turn frantic, driven by a base instinct to claim you fully and utterly. Each thrust now bottoms out, driving against your cervix hard enough to draw tiny gasps from your lips with each impact.

"Yes! Yesss!" His voice is little more than a feral growl, eyes wild with lust as he buries his face in the crook of your shoulder to muffle his moans.

The pressure building behind his balls reaches critical mass far too soon despite his best efforts to prolong their joining. As tremors begin coursing through his tensing frame signaling imminent eruption, he lifts his face to lock gazes intensely with yours.

"I'm close," he warns gutturally, jaw clenched with effort even as hips continue churning furiously between your thighs. "Need permission... please."

At your breathless command, something breaks free within Gregor - all pretense abandoned as pure animal instinct takes over completely. With a final surge of brutal strength, he drives deep then grinds hard against your womb while his entire body goes rigid.

"Fuck! YES!" The word tears from his throat on a primal scream as hot floods pump endlessly into your accepting depths. His cock pulses violently with each orgasm, milk spurting in thick ropes that fill you until it begins leaking around his embedded length.

The tremors don’t stop after the initial flood but instead morph into persistent spasms racking through every inch of him. His whole body trembles uncontrollably now as sweat drenches his hair, slicking down cheeks and upper lip. Gregor’s face contorts into an agony-filled grimace as he hangs limp inside you—a broken husk drained utterly by the sheer force of his release. He gasps sporadically at first, lungs fighting desperately to draw air back into starved tissues.

His fingers twitch weakly in the loose strands of your hair when your arms wrap tight around his chest, their warmth radiating like embers across his skin. As if summoned by the gesture alone, breathing gradually returns—starting shallowly before deepening to steady rhythm. When you finally lift to peer into his eyes—now soft pools reflecting feverish desire—he offers tired smile.

“That,” Gregor rasps, voice hoarse but laced with amusement, “was almost too much even for me.”

His exhausted muscles tense slightly beneath your embrace, though not in resistance. Rather, they seem to hum with renewed energy inspired entirely by the simple tenderness of your touch upon his cheek followed closely by the deliberate placement of his palm where life might already stir within you.

"Mmmphf," he murmurs sleepily against your lips during brief pause for breath, eyelids heavy yet unwilling to break contact entirely.