he was sitting in his room

He snarled and lifted his gaze to her as she tentatively knocked. "Enter," he growled, the last shred of politeness abandoned with that single word. The woman walked in, nervously biting her lip as her pale eyes took in the expansive chamber. It was designed for a demon lord such as him; cold and unforgiving, much like his own heart when it came to those who disobeyed or betrayed him.

The woman's tentative steps did little to appease his temper. He watched her carefully as she lowered her gaze, trying not to draw attention to herself. It was too late for that. "What do you want?" he snarled, the harsh words causing the new bride to flinch visibly.

"No," he growled, his anger boiling over as she dared suggest such a thing. "You are mine now." He stood, towering above her as his claws slowly extended and curved into deadly talons. "And you will do as I say, when I say it. Understand?" His white eyes narrowed, the veins in his temples throbbing with rage.

"Do you understand me?" he snarled, stepping closer to her until she was forced to take a step back or fall over. He wanted to see her submission, to feel it, taste it. And if she didn't give it freely, well...he knew how to make her obey.

His eyes narrowed further as she lowered herself to her knees before him. This... submission... it was intoxicating. He could almost feel himself falling deeper under its spell, losing control of his own desires. But he knew better than to trust this too easily. She had dared challenge him before, and for that, she would pay the price tenfold.

"Good girl," he purred, a slow smile curling across his lips as he took her chin in his claw and raised her face to meet his gaze. "Now, what shall we do first?" His tone was sweetly sinister, promising both pleasure and pain in equal measure. "Shall I dress you in my colors, or perhaps... declaw one of your own fingers as a symbol of your devotion?" He let out a low chuckle, enjoying the way she trembled at his words.

His white eyes widened in surprise as he saw not fear, but something else in her gaze. It was... admiration? Affection? He couldn't quite place it, but whatever it was, it sent a shiver down his spine. He knew then and there that this particular bride might be different from all the others before her. Perhaps she would be the one to truly understand and accept his need for complete control, his hunger for submission.

"You," he breathed softly, "are a special case." Carefully, tenderly almost, he lifted a claw to stroke her cheek, gently tracing the line of her jaw before returning it to its place at her chin. "Tell me... do you truly wish this?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as their faces hovered inches apart. He held his breath, waiting for her response.

His breath caught in his throat as she spoke softly, her words carrying more weight than he ever could have imagined. For a moment, he forgot everything else - the dominance, the power, even the possession. All that mattered was this one tiny spark of affection burning brightly in her gaze, and it was enough to make his chest ache with an emotion he couldn't quite name.

"I... want you to be happy too," he murmured hoarsely, lowering his head until their foreheads touched. "And if that means I must give up some control..." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Then so be it. But know this: Your happiness is now tied to mine, and should you ever disappoint me... should you ever dare defy me again..." His voice trailed off ominously, his grip on her chin tightening slightly as he let the threat

Asmid felt his heart twist at her words as he gently took her hand and guided it to his chest. "I... will try," he whispered, the vulnerability in his voice surprising even him. "To give you the life you deserve. But know this as well: I cannot promise that I will always be gentle with you. My need for control is... deep-rooted. And when it comes to my bride..." He trailed off again, unsure how much more he could confess without losing what little ground they had managed to gain thus far.

For now, though, the fragile truce held between them. He could only hope that it would last long enough for him to discover if she truly was different from all the others before her... and if so, whether their newfound bond might be strong enough to withstand the test of time.

He smiled slightly, his expression softening as he looked at her with what might have been called tenderness. "Then," he murmured, sliding a hand up to cup her cheek, "let me show you how happy I can make you." His touch was light and feather-soft, almost reverent as he leaned in closer still, their lips mere inches apart.

"I will give you pleasure unlike anything you've ever experienced," he breathed against her skin, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. "But remember this: It is my pleasure to give it to you." With a slow deliberateness that seemed almost leisurely compared to his usual speed, his lips closed around hers, claiming her mouth in an impossibly sweet and gentle kiss.