Daemon Sadi, Warlord Prince of Dhemlan, was doing paperwork. He hated paperwork. He had never been the warrior that Lucivar had always been but if he had to be up this early in the morning, he almost wished he was in the garden with his brother right now, training for some future battle.

Daemon felt a wave of groggy and cranky female energy flow through the house and smiled at the good-natured tone of the grouchiness. It signaled that Jaenelle had woken up and that she already knew that she was just going to have one of those days were nothing would seem right. He looked back down at the paperwork on his desk and tried remind himself not to get too enthusiastic about the perfect opportunity to fuss today.

A few minutes later, a frustrated energy washed over him and before he had a chance to be amused, he flinched and pushed back from the desk. It was nothing, he told himself, a worried husband's response to his wife's dissatisfaction but he knew it was more than that. There were particular tones of female emotion that still made him uneasy, but he had been unwilling to admit that to himself until...

Daemon had slowly begun to suspect that there had been something wrong about the excitement that he had felt when Witch had sent fear surging through him during the recent bout of morning sex that had left him shaky. It hadn't been just respectful fear, it had been utter terror that had quickly been translated into sexual stimulation before he'd even had a chance to acknowledge it. And yet this confused him because he did not truly fear Jaenelle or Witch but only as a Warlord Prince should fear his Queen when Protocol is observed. He knew what fear felt like, he of all people, and he did not fear her.

After all, it was quite natural for a weaker male to be intimidated by a stronger female. And it was also quite natural for a male in love to feel weaker than his mate, particularly in bed, not to mention for a male to feel a bit jumpy around Witch…but shear terror…

And then, sitting there with his silly papers, it hit him. Daemon, the man, loved Jaenelle and Witch and had no fear. Daemon Sadi, the Warlord Prince, loved his Queen who was Witch and had no fear. But the part of himself that had been created to protect the innocent boy who had been ringed and tormented, to protect the young man who had been taught things no male of that age should know so that he could please cruel Queens, to protect the adolescent who had been fondled and used, and to protect the man who had endured pain and humiliation for sport…the Sadist knew fear. And the Sadist's original job was to destroy the fear to protect those parts of him hurt.

Daemon had thought of the Sadist only as his violent potential, but it was this part of himself that had reacted and manipulated the thrill that had gone through him when Witch pressed her teeth against his neck in a gesture of supreme dominance. What he had felt had been a jolt of panic that with another woman would have turned him coldly violent except that it was counter checked and controlled by the parts of him that loved and surrendered to Jaenelle. The Sadist had had no choice but to change his strategy as he did what he had always done and protected his remaining fragile emotions from shock of allowing such power over his body and mind. The Sadist had twisted the fear into sexual desire and had used seduction to redirect Jaenelle to safer territory. The Sadist was such a well developed part of his persona that even he had forgotten the true depths of the terror and degradation that had created it. He had also forgotten the subtlety that Sadist was capable of in the bedroom.

He had to admit that there had been times when he had had to remind himself that she did not behave like the Queens from Terreille but he had always known that the remnants of the fear and anger had nothing to do with her. It was understandable, he argued to himself, that the Sadist would not be so easily tamed by love, but he didn't want to be scared any more. Jaenelle didn't deserve his fear. She had sacrificed herself to save him and all of the Blood. Jaenelle had accepted the Sadist was part of him, a keen weapon useful for protecting his family, but the Sadist interacting with his wife, his Queen, his love in any way was not acceptable.

Daemon had concluded this so furiously that he had pounded his fist on his desk creating a cracking sound in the piece of furniture that was not a good sign. He flinched at the sound but chose to ignore the fact that he'd probably just broken his desk.

Several weeks later...

Daemon's mouth lingered on Jaenelle's lips as he sent eager phantom hands to supplement his own hands as he explored her body. He considered briefly moving on from this soft pleasure to more pressing desires but it was still novel for him to actually enjoy giving pleasure to a woman so he liked to make it last for as long as possible. He was happily performing his husbandly duties when a soft snarl issued from his lovely wife. He snarled back, not bothering to lift his head from where he was lavishing his attention. Then suddenly found himself snatched up and flopped on his back.

Daemon bared his teeth and gave another sensual snarl, lifting his body up to met Jaenelle's as she moved to straddle his thighs. She had apparently had enough of his teasing which was fine by him because his body was more than willing to give her release. When he reached a sitting position, she put her hands on his chest. He locked onto her mouth with an urgent kiss and shifted his hands to her bottom to lift her onto him and then unexpectedly he found himself being pushed back down on his back. He resisted ever so slightly and allowed a groan of protest to escape from his lips to which Jaenelle's response was a firmer push. He obeyed and once she had him on his back she deftly grabbed his wrists, pinning them at his side. She shifted her knees between his legs, forcing them wide, and then reached up and pressed her teeth to his neck.

The growl that she made was soft and hungry. Daemon knew that it was Witch that he was dealing with now. A shock of fear induced pleasure ran through him.

No, Daemon told the Sadist and hoped he would listen, You will not cheapen this. Witch is dominant but she is not like those bitches. She doesn't deserve to be manipulated.

Daemon could almost feel the Sadist laugh, shrug his shoulders…and abandon him.

Jaenelle released her hold on his neck and left a trail of kisses on her journey to bite playfully at Daemon's right nipple. A ripple of real pleasure went through him and he tried unconsciously to twist his wrists in Jaenelle's grip. Her grip clamped down, aided by Craft, which brought Daemon back to the reality of being pinned and restrained by a dominant witch intent on sexual satisfaction. Without the control of the cool and collected Sadist, Daemon panicked, testing her grip again, trying to force his legs closed, attempting to fight his way out physically but all that this succeed in doing was making her restrain him more forcefully and then…then he felt her teeth again, closing on his throat. The growl this time was a warning and the points of her teeth pressed down hard enough to threaten to break the skin. Daemon froze and tried to calm himself. He felt tethered by his love for her even more so than by her physical and mental strength and it was terrifying.

Despite her warning, all he felt from her was the same pure and unpolluted sexual desire that he had come to adore in her because it didn't make him feel dirty. Witch was merely done with the games, she wanted her pleasure, and Witch, like a Warlord Prince in rut, was capable of losing her hold on civilized behavior when she was filled with such strong desire. She wasn't being cruel, she was simply demanding what she deserved. She was his Queen and his wife.

But none of these thoughts helped him, when, satisfied at his submission, she released her hold from his neck, nudged his head to the side and ran her tongue along his jugular vein, reinforcing her dominance.

Every ounce of emotional control deserted him and all he knew was love and fear tangled up together in a psychologically draining wave of feeling. He was a boy again unsure of what would happen but secretly knowing that the violation of his body that he feared was not a childish nightmare, it was real and about to happen. But he was also a loving husband and a loyal Warlord Prince who wanted nothing more than to serve his Queen and please his wife. He would not stop her, he would not defend himself. She could take what she wanted.

Jaenelle shifted back and rubbed her hips against him to gauge his readiness, which had understandably flagged, and then she turned her attention back to his nipples to remedy the situation.

He closed his eyes and tried to relax. He tried to feel the pleasure and encouragement she was trying to give him but his body started to tremble gently in her grasp as she continued to nibble at him. Thankfully, this did not alarm her. He felt so physically exposed, so emotionally vulnerable without the cloak of his own sexual sway. He told himself that she deserved this surrender, and she did, but this did not prevent tears from beginning to roll slowly down his cheeks.

She brushed her mind gently against his inner barriers and a fresh jolt of panic shot through him, though he managed to control his body's reaction. Then came another push at his barriers, not ungentle, but not lover like this time, firm and insistent. Daemon swallowed hard and opened himself up to her completely, letting the feel of her psychic strength wash over him and penetrate into the depths of his mind, an act of surrender more agonizing then those he had already allowed.

"Huh!" Jaenelle gasped breathlessly and Daemon slowly opened his eyes to see his wife's horrified face. She was shocked to find her husband shuddering and crying underneath her.

"It's okay," he said to her with a brave if wavering smile, "Take me."

This was absolutely not the right thing to say but the man in love had already convinced the boy to accept this. He had not considered what she must be thinking.

"Daemon," she said gently as if speaking to a child. Then she carefully released her hold on him in a way that managed not call attention to the fact that she had just had him pinned and spread for her pleasure.

Daemon could not decide which was more heartbreaking, the fact that his wife had given up the pleasure he had tried to offer her or the way she had slid off of him and wrapped him up in her arms like a frightened boy. He didn't have much time to consider this thought before he started sobbing in her arms. Jaenelle rocked him softly and murmured things to him in the old tongue until he calmed down enough to only produce an occasional sniffle.

Please review! Thanks for reading!

I know this story is a different spin on Daemon and Jaenelle but I was kind of unsatisfied with everything just being perfect sexually between them. Witches can be fierce too and it shouldn't take much to touch on Daemon's sensativity to female sexual dominance even where she's sort of just being playfull. Anyway, I'm thinking of maybe doing one more chapter from Jaenelle's prospective, reacting to this episode.

Let me know what you think!