He hated her. He hated everything about her. Her pious superiority, her morals, the disgusted, almost pitying look she so often gave him, her strength, her dislike of killing, the incomprehensible rules which she lived by, her lack of respect for him, her dreamy, faraway expression. To him, she was a superior ice princess, impenetrable, inscrutible and utterly unconquerable. No matter what he did, he could never defeat her. He could never make her give him the respect he deserved. The only way she ever looked at him was with either disgust or pity, and he couldn't decide which one he hated more.
She hated him. His viciousness, his rudeness, his arrogance, his disregard for others' lives, the way he treated anyone of lower rank than himself, his dogged belief that he was stronger than everyone else, even when evidence suggested otherwise. To her, he was just an animal. No feelings, no care for others, no boundaries or sense of right and wrong. To him, killing was just fun, it wasn't something he did out of necessity, or for a reason or cause, he simply did it for enjoyment. She took no enjoyment from fighting or defeating him, she was simply forced to by his continued confrontational attitude towards her.
The tercera and octava lived in a constant battle with one another. They hated each other, despised each other and fought constantly for dominance. So why, right now, were they fucking each other in a small store room in Las Noches?
When it came to it, he just couldn't resist her. Very few red blooded men could have resisted Nel. Her bottomless turquoise eyes, her oceanic hair, her soft, voluptuous curves, the innocent yet incredibly knowing look she always had on her face... Nnoitra dug his long, pale fingers into her plump, firm sides, pressing her crushingly hard against the wall behind her. This was the only way he could have her. The only way he could assert his dominance. He kissed her passionately, biting her lips until they bled, creating red marks and bruises on her neck and shoulders, scratching his nails down her perfect, clear skin, making his mark on the otherwise untouchable tercera.
Nel whimpered and moaned at Nnoitra's touch. She hated herself for giving in to him like this, but even the goddess like 3rd espada needed to get her satisfaction somewhere, and for some reason, the cold blooded octava knew how to satisfy her like no other man could.
Nnoitra thrilled at the sound of Neliel's moans and gasps. She may hate and despise him for being an animal, but that didn't stop her coming back for more. Almost all of Las Noches wanted the beautiful, tempestuous third espada, but it was he, Nnoitra Jiruga, who had her panting and writhing beneath him. It was his name that she moaned with pleasure.
She hated him, but she needed him. She couldn't resist him, couldn't resist his touches and caresses, so gentle and yet so firm and forceful. He took her body as if she was his right, as if she couldn't have refused him. She whimpered with pleasure as the 8th espada moved against her, his breath quickening in her ear. She wound her hands in his glossy, raven black hair, her legs coiling around him, pulling him closer to her.
No one could ever know. No one could know that the inferior 8th espada could dominate her so fully and completely. No one could know that the pure, righteous third espada had given in to the most animalistic of all hollow.
But Nnoitra knew. He knew she was his. His prize. His conquest. If this was the only way in which he could dominate her, possess her, conquer her, then so be it.