Adam was watching, his expression unreadable, but his presence was a suffocating prison of unspoken rules.
Only when Agri had cleaned most of his body, did she look up Adam to see his expression. Trying to gauge his desire and commands from merely a glance.
Feeling relaxed and seeing that his fatigue was getting a hold of him, he nodded slightly towards Agri.
In that moment, Agri felt a small surge of vicious, triumphant satisfaction.
'At least I can do this!'
While Blair had been relegated to the floor, she had been given a green light to go ahead and clean their master; a part that involved the most intimate part of their master to be exact.
So, in the end, she had gotten the better end of the stick, or more precisely, she had gotten Adam's dick.
A smug little smile played on her lips as she crawled onto the massive bed, her lithe, blue-tinged body moving with a serpentine grace.
Alas, she could gloat to much to her demoness rival as her soft breaths indicated that she had passed out long ago.
Her exhaustion extended far past physical and mental; as Adam invasive and twisted branding was violently and meticulously molding her soul as well.
On the rough bed.
Agri completely ignored Lyra, treating the queen as if she were mere furniture or thin air.
Her entire world narrowed to the sight of Adam's semi-erect cock; glistening and messy from his earlier union with Lyra.
Her heart sped up slightly as her yellow like eyes glazed over for a moment.
With a devotion that was both reverent and depraved, she went forward and lowered her head.
Her long, slick, and unnaturally agile tongue emerged, lapping at the base of his shaft with slow, worshipful strokes.
She cleaned him meticulously, ravenously; her feral yellow eyes gently closed in concentration as she savored the taste of him mingled with the essence of her rival.
Every flick of her tongue was an act of dutiful worship, of her marking her own claim; adding her own unique flavor to her lord.
Adam, feeling the warm, insistent pressure of Agri's tongue and surrounded by the conflicting auras of his women, let out a long, deep sigh.
It was not a sigh of annoyance, but of profound, satiated dominance and lust.
He did not open his eyes.
He simply allowed the sensations to wash over him; the soft weight of Lyra against one side, the devoted, wet attention of Agri on his cock.
This was the order he demanded.
The strife, the jealousy, the hatred and schemes: they were all unique pieces of the puzzle.
With a final, contented rumble in his chest, he succumbed to the exhaustion of his efforts, his consciousness slipping away into a deep, powerful slumber, one arm draped possessively over Lyra's waist.
Agri, finishing her task with a final, tender kiss to his now-clean dick, felt a pang of sadness as she realized he had fallen asleep.
The hope for her own turn at being ravaged had faded, but she was nothing if not adaptable.
Quietly, so as not to disturb him, she slithered around the other side of the massive bed, opposite of Lyra's side.
She molded her body against Adam's back, wrapping an arm around him, claiming her share of his sleeping body.
She closed her eyes, a small, contented smile finally appearing on her enchanting face as she found solace in his proximity.
Lyra had been watching the entirety of the nights events through slitted eyes; her own body aching and tired.
She had seen Blair's tired retreat and Agri's possessive, erotic cleansing.
It was like watching a debauch, infatuated ritual of a zealot servicing to their god.
That's what they need: worshipers!
In mortal words there were still those individuals who wanted 'companions' over servants. Those who sought to give their slaves or minions 'freedom' and 'rights' instead of having complete control.
Devils scoff at the notion; no only is complete control for the best, but having faithful worshipers was also a prerequisite for advancing towards the higher devil realms.
At some point, they need to form a faction, clan, or organization to obtain followers.
Although few and only at the beginning of his journey, Adam had already started to do this subconsciously or by accident.
What ever the reason was, Lyra was satisfied with these pets, these subordinates.
Only such subordinates were truly good.
"Good~" She muttered faintly.
In the twisted relationship that has now formed with Adam and Lyra; him receiving praise was an affirmation to her, the fear he instilled in others served her, and these worshiping demonesses was giving more value to the devil she had chosen to side with.
His is hers and she is his.
It was a twisted cycle that worked marvelously in hell's environment.
A part of her, a secret, dark corner of her newly awakened devilish nature, had been subtly and undeniably aroused by the sight of Agri servicing Adam.
A voyeuristic thrill at the display of raw, unrestrained lust mixed with devotion and servitude.
Also, the way Agri truly desired and longed for Adam, seemingly infatuated, did help Lyra accept this angry little pet just that bit more.
If she weren't as exhausted as Adam, she might have commanded Agri to do that 'thing' with her tongue again.
The faint after-thoughts and lingering phantom sensations of her slick tongue caused Lyra to crave it more, though it was something she wouldn't outright admit.
The same reasoning had allowed her to see Agri slip into the bed beside her, but she was too weary, too sated, and too secure in her position to care.
She had tormented this little shadow enough, so she 'allowed' her to find comfort form Adam's intoxicating warmth.
With a soft exhalation, she let her own consciousness drift, her head nestled against Adam's shoulder, her nose subconsciously inhaling deeply.
His scent caused her to tremble in satisfied ecstasy as she overlapped her elegant and supple thighs over his, her smooth legs rubbing against his strong thighs.
Like a happy cat that couldn't resist rubbing up on their owner.