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An Exercise in Futility	By : LadyofJustice Category: +G through L > League of Legends Views: 15644 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own League of Legends, any character associated wherein, and make no money off of this story.

Chapter List
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[ A/n: Sorry this took so long to update. Kind of lost the muse for it. BUT I GOT A REVIEW AND I'M SUPER EASY SO THAT BROUGHT IT RIGHT BACK. Quickie fuck chapter that I had rolling around in my head for a while. I think it kind of sets up the standing relationship between the now, General Darius and the still young Cassiopeia. <: I will edit typo's and shit later. BUT RIGHT NOW IT'S FOUR AM AND AM TIRED. Kbai enjoy
@Surdo - Um. Sure. I can do more things. I have a couple of pairings in mind, but feel free to post a few you'd like to see. <3 thank you for the review!]

Cassiopeia tried to bite her lip, sharp enough to draw blood in an attempt to heed Darius' commands to be silent. It was no use, however, as his hips slammed into hers again, ripping a loud moan from her throat. Growling in displeasure, he reached around to clamp his hand over her mouth, muffling her seductive noises as he pounded into her from behind, the other hand securing the skirts of her dress at her hips, making sure to keep it out of his way.
Darius had warned her earlier that evening against the skin-tight gown, the color of fresh blood. She'd waved a number of titillating dresses in front of his face, all colors of the rainbow as they were getting ready for his dinner party. He cared not for any of them, but she'd seen how the snug red piece had held his gaze, and before she could say a word he'd spoken. "Not that one." he growled. The last thing he needed was to be distracted the entire night by her, lest he ruin the party for his own guests. His recent promotion to General obviously required some sort of political party to permanently set his status before the Noxian high class. He'd insisted against it, but he might as well have been talking to thin air. It seemed as though he'd been talking to thin air when he'd demanded she not wear the dress either. She'd strut out to him as he waited in a dim corridor, watching the party, everyone talking and sipping wine, waiting for his arrival. The smug look on her face was almost enough to make him strike her. Arrogant, misbehaving whore. Snatching her wrist he'd jerked her close and growled, brows furrowed. "Your ears must be as full of cotton as your head, you vapid harlot." But even as he said it, his arm had wrapped around her, hand sliding over her pert backside, appreciating the look and the feel of her smaller body against his larger one. That damn dress on her could drop the coldest man to his knees. Cassiopeia had bat her thick lashes innocently at him, "General, perhaps you should loosen up before your arrival. You seem too tense." she purred, her body curling into his, touching every spot she knew pressed his buttons. Darius had said nothing, and had simply slid his hand into her hair, and drug her into the next room, cursing her under his breath as she giggled.
Cassiopeia's moans now silenced behind his hand, he picked up his pace, pushing her farther into the desk, the desk that had once stood in the center of the room.. now pushed against the nearest wall. The smug bitch was too snug, and the desk offered little purchase against the marble floors, he'd had to shove it against the wall to get the purchase he wanted; and now he was buried to the hilt in her, thrusting with as much wild abandon as he'd allow himself. Cass talked a big game, but it only took the slighest pets and tickles to have her gushing for him, and her noisiness had disrupted his rythmn. The last thing he wanted was to be caught fucking the youngest Du Couteau sister senseless when he was supposed to be whooing guests and making humble over his promotion. Now fully back on track, the loud smacking of his hips pounding into her pert ass filled the room, along with his quiet grunts and groans. He nearly shouted a curse however when Cassiopeia's sharp teeth sank into his hand as her body convulsed under him, her thick juices coating his cock; growling and pulling away, his cock still standing hard, he flipped her over roughly and backhanded her, bringing a soft gasp from her lips and a look of shock to her face. Darius grabbed her bare hips and pulled her close, leaning over to clamp his hand over her mouth again, other hand ripping down the front of her dress, exposing her young breasts to him. "Careful where you set those teeth, snake." he growled, moving his hand for a moment to press his lips roughly against hers. Using his free hands he repositioned himself at her soaking entrance, before grabing a handful of her tits and forcing himself hilt deep back into her sweltering pussy. Cass' long legs wrapped around his broad waist, and he parted from her, clamping his hand back over her mouth as he pounded her, filling the room with wet slaps and groans once more.
The young Du Couteau could already feel the bruises forming on her thighs, but she only goaded him on with her body, taking everything he could give her, trying to get him to give in, and release. She'd come a long way since their first tryst. From having a wounded ego to being a willing participant. She'd had other men after him, but he had done what he'd set out to do. He ruined her. Cassiopeia found herself frustrated to the core with every partner she took, until she wandered back to him, reluctant to give in, but so full of sexual tension she couldn't stand it. It had been worth it, however. Worth the tiny sting to her pride to tease him without fear, and to have him when she chose... Her body bucked against his own and tensed as she found herself overwhelmed once more with an orgasm, making damn sure that she didn't bite him again, she wailed into his palm, muffling her cries. He continued thrusting, once, twice, three times, hard, making her shake as he gave a loud sigh and thrust his seed deep inside her quivering cunt. Darius stood for a moment, relaxing all of his weight on her and the desk, leaning into her hand as it snaked up to thread into his volcanic black hair, tinged with the slightest of grey.
When his rest was over, he pulled away, and out of her.. Grabbing a couple of napkins from the small box on the desk, he cleaned himself and restraightened his trousers, sliding a hand through his toussled hair. Grabbing the box and tossing it onto her exposed chest, he cleared his throat and turned away. "Get cleaned up. I expect you beside me at dinner." he rumbled, his offering of a spot at his left hand the closest to an affectionate gesture as he could go. Departing the room, he made sure there was a guard standing watch before immersing himself finally into the crowd, more relaxed than he had been at his actual arrival.
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An Exercise in Futility