Ambrose sobbed at the painful pricks of pleasure that was being sent up his spine. His thin frame could not handle any more of this. He grabbed onto the sturdy muscles of the man on top of him, who only focused on pounding into the bottom. The bottoms black bangs stuck to his face from sweat, his black shoulder-length hair stuck on his neck and shoulders as well.

"You are doing so, so well..." the man on top of him murmured into his ear, his deep voice sending a wave of heat to Ambrose's ears. Ambrose whined as the top slammed his hips forward, spilling himself deep into the thinner male for the second time.

"Can my dear songbird go for another round?"

The bottom nodded eagerly, looking forward to their lovemaking.

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Ambrose woke up in pain. His back and ass hurts, everything else was sore.

"What the hell?" he mutters, noting how his voice was rough. He paused, the gears in his brain turning. He sweat drops as he looks beside him, taking in how there was a naked person next to him. The man was sleeping, the soft snores telling him that much. The man has a nice tan with long purple hair paired with firm arms and abs, holy hell was this man hot. Ambrose took in the sight of scratch marks against the man's back and arms, which made the necromancer tear up a bit.

'Oh my god, I clawed a perfect body!' he thought, one tear streaming down his pale face. How could he? This man had the body of a god while Ambrose had the body on an underweight, thin twenty-year-old! Ambrose examined his semi-long fingernails, which did have some blood on them. He examined the room, quickly finding the shower and washing himself. Holy hell, he had a lot of release on him and inside him. When he got out of the shower and dried himself, he noticed the hickeys trailing his neck, shoulders, and back. Ambrose blushed and went to finding his clothes, which, surprisingly, are hung in the closet. A white-and black striped turtleneck under a plain black t-shirt paired with black shorts and fishnet stockings. He put on his black leather platform ankle boots, quietly, but quickly, bolting out the door with his belongings.

He took a taxi all the way to his apartment complex, running up four flights of stairs before getting to the fifth, and last, floor. He went to room '526' and unlocked it, getting in and closing the door behind him. It was a nice little place, only suitable for one or two people. When you walk in, there's a kitchen on your left with a floating island with barstools. The kitchen consisted of white cupboards and marble countertops, not to mention the fridge was also white. So was the outside of the sink and dishwasher, the only splash of color being the metal on the stovetop to cook foods on. The living room was right in front of the kitchen, which consisted of gray couches and a T.V hung on the wall. To the left was a door, which was a closet meant for storing household items. There were two doors in the living room, one leading to the balcony and the other leading to the bedroom. The balcony door was made from glass, which was straight ahead. If you turned left when you entered the living room, the bedroom door was right in front of you. Inside the bedroom was a queen-sized bed with black sheets and a fluffy gray blanket, a closet, and a door to the bathroom. Because of it being an apartment, there was only a sink with a mirror in front, a toilet, and a shower with a glass wall.

"I'm home." Ambrose said to no one in particular, taking off his shoes and setting them neatly in the closet. He set his bag, which held his belongings, on the floating island, then plopped down on the couch. "Ugh... I'm so tired...."

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Zahir woke up with a yawn, sitting up and stretching his limbs. He had the best night of his life. When he was at the club, he ran into a cute guy his only a year younger than him. He was only there for stress relief, as the emperor was still pushing all his work on him, and he wanted to have fun. Since the emperor and him push work at each other a month at a time, it was now his turn to have a month break while the emperor sulked about having to do all that work. Anyway, he got dragged into a conversation with a drunk hottie, which is something that rarely happens. And when they talked, it felt like they had chemistry. Zahir was falling in love with the short male.

To be honest, the height difference is funny. While the shorty stood at a 5'1, the demon king stood at a 6'1. It was hilarious when Ambrose tried kissing Zahir but couldn't reach his lips. They leisurely spoke for hours until they somehow managed to find themselves in a hotel room and making love. That's all Zahir could describe it as. Making love. Not just sex, making love. As if they weren't complete strangers and banging in a hotel they randomly found in their desperate need.

Zahir yawned again, blinking his sleepy pale blue eyes open. He noticed the empty spot next to him, making his heart sink. Ambrose left a while ago too, as the sheets were cold.

"Ambrose Cree..." the demon king muttered, "We'll meet again. I know we will."

He got up and showered, changing into a long-sleeved collared shirt with black pants. He put his socks and shoes on, heading back to the demon palace where his subordinates were waiting. He's going to get an earful from everyone, that's for sure.