It was better with her on top.
They had tried it the other way around at first, for a few times, but then she kept focusing on his scars. She would rub at them, caress them gently, something he ignored for a while, but he couldn't stand that pitiful look in her eyes. Even when he pressed his face into the pillow, that image wouldn't leave his head.
One time he had gotten so frustrated by it that he yanked at her hair – an action for which he had been punished for later, and not in a way he found particularly enjoyable.
She called it a "compromise", but he knew that was a lie. He didn't have a choice in the matter. If he had had his way, she'd be on her stomach, smothered by the mattress while he took her hard. She refused any such notion, however. So there they were, with her on top.
He didn't mind too much, it still felt the same more or less, and he could get a better picture of what she was going through. As fun as it was pressing her down, owning her, there was a sense of pleasure that came from watching her start off with so much energy and enthusiasm just to end up tired and out of breath. And her eyes would be begging for mercy as opposed to pity.
And he wouldn't have stopped this even if he wanted to. The idea of fucking the Pharaoh's pretty little pet – especially on consensual terms – was too tempting to resist. Of course, the whole "consensual" aspect still confused him. Hell, the girl in general confused him. No one had ever wanted anything to do with him… not even his family, not even himself…
She had taken some form of pity towards him… she liked him. He didn't understand it. Hatred had been all he knew from the day he was first incarnated. He wanted to kill this girl, but he couldn't. His Millennium item had been taken, and without his deck he had no way of fighting her.
Some nights, he would wonder if this was all some sick joke – that she was really the one taking advantage of him, leaving him defenseless and forced into sex. But, no, that couldn't be right. She was too innocent for that type of thinking.
But then it was strange that he still thought of her in that setting.
Everything about this girl aggravated him… he was certain no one in this universe or the next one could be more opposite of himself. She was this cute, perky little creature who guarded her home and all that inhabited it. She fought out of protection, not for bloodlust. And everyone loved her.
Apparently, letting him stay was easy for her, so long as he didn't misbehave. He grew to hate her. After Battle City, he had nothing. He had been banished to the Shadow Realm, the darkness he so craved. Dead. And yet somehow he had ended up in the world of Duel Monsters, where the creatures he fought with and against were real.
And she was there. She refused to fight him when the monsters' health would be affected beyond mere life points, and her magic gave him a disadvantage. So, he was stuck.
She kept a constant eye on him, but she didn't have to. Everyone else avoided him, and with no method of escaping or killing them off, he was horribly bored. She was all he had. And he hated her for it.
However, she was starting to feel… something different towards him. Her loyalty was to the Pharaoh, and she must remain faithful to him. But he could tell she was trying to convince herself of this. Her relationship with the Pharaoh was complicated, as was theirs, in a way that didn't seem to conflict with each other. He was no longer hurting the ones she cared about, so there was no reason to hate him.
Words couldn't describe his shock when she had first recommended sex.
He remembered her annoying little giggle when he confessed that he had never slept with anyone before. She wasn't trying to tease him, she was just genuinely surprised that he was a virgin. She thought it was… cute… and it took every ounce of him not to slap her right there.
She was over 3,000 years old, and had long since been a virgin. He once inquired about her previous lovers, but she wouldn't give any names. But he decided it was better that way – he didn't want to think of the other people who had been with her while they were fucking.
It made him wonder why he still thought of her as "innocent", and it also made him wonder if he was the first enemy she had slept with.
It had taken them a week to finally have sex after her initial suggestion. She had insisted on teaching him. Although he'd never admit it, he was relatively grateful. Being around her constantly drove him crazy, but knowing he could have her at anytime also got to him. The fact that he was there and the Pharaoh was not, and he could do whatever he wanted with her and nobody could stop him… oh, how he had craved it.
But he had no idea what he was doing.
All he knew about sex were the basics. He didn't know how to approach it, or small details like what his hands would be doing – besides resisting the urge to choke her.
When the time finally came, she had pressed him back against the bed. They had stripped themselves, and he was down on the mattress before he even had a chance to get a good look at her, or become embarrassed. The next thing he knew, her lips were on his, in a rushed and desperate manner. Like she just wanted to hurry up and get it over with.
But he didn't like that. He took a firm grip on her shoulders, not enough to really hurt her, but enough to keep her in place. He opened his mouth a bit more, like she had taught him, and she slipped her tongue into it. He could feel her body start to relax, and her hands traveled up and down his chest, tickling him slightly.
When he was finally worked into an erection, she broke the kiss and mounted him, and that was when he got a decent look at her. She was attractive, but not in the way most people saw her.
He didn't care left or right about a person's physical appearance. After all, bodies were just a means of getting around. His own body had been borrowed, in the human world.
No, he looked at her and saw what she meant to this universe. The guardian, and the Pharaoh's loyal servant. Besides fusing with Ra, this was the most power he had ever experienced. And it had felt good, just like the One Turn Kill had.
But she felt it a different way. She felt it the way any sane person would. That was why she took his hand and placed it down to her clitoris. He rotated his finger around it, again, like she had taught him to.
He remembered the first time she had him do it – she was still fully dressed, but his hand was in her panties, and she was breathing heavily with her fingernails digging into his shirt. She was blushing afterwards, but he had done a good job.
And now he was here, rubbing at her again while she pushed and tugged on top of him. Her palms were pressed against his chest still, and he gripped his free hand against her hip, helping the girl to balance. He didn't mind having his finger on her, it gave him something to concentrate on besides her eyes – those stupid, stupid eyes that still pitied and adored him despite what he was doing to her.
She shrieked a few times, but he didn't particularly care for it – she wasn't in any pain, so it mostly just grated his ears. And yet he couldn't get enough of her. The girl annoyed him, but the power was intoxicating. He tried to picture the Pharaoh's face if he ever found out about this. He pictured the face of his weaker half if he ever found out.
He pictured anyone finding out that someone had willingly let him take them – that someone had wanted him.
But she wanted to keep this a secret. He supposed that's just the sort of thing people did when everyone loved them – you had to present yourself a certain way. Not a life he particularly cared for. Was she scared people wouldn't love her anymore if they knew the truth? What a fragile way to live.
His weaker half had that same life. Wanting to please others just meant you could disappoint them – at least in hatred, he had no worries. If people disliked him, he was unaffected. She was the first to enjoy his company, and here they were. But it didn't matter if she grew to hate him, it felt good either way. He hated her, so no hard feelings.
But it did make him wonder how many of her loyal subjects knew her, really knew her. 3,000 years was a long time, and he of all people knew what it was like to throw away your duties.
After a while, his hand started to get tired, so he let it drop to his side. She had already come a few times, so it didn't matter. The girl kept going, though, but he could tell she was running out of energy. He grabbed onto her hips and started moving up and down himself, thrusting into her. She gasped at first, but calmed quickly and kept up the pace, faster and faster until he finally signaled his orgasm. She pulled away, leaning back onto his legs and pumped him, letting his cum fall onto her hand.
She giggled again, in that way that annoyed him so much. He hated her. He hated her more than anything – more than his father, more than the Pharaoh. Because she had gotten him to submit. Because she was the first to show him kindness. Whether this was out of some strange mercy or lustful desire, he didn't know. Nor cared – what difference did it make if it all lead to the same outcome.
But if he couldn't kill her, he would own her. And as long as he was in a position where no one would kill him off either, he was in no rush to leave.