Disclaimer: I do not or make any claim to own World of Warcraft or Blizzard Entertainment.
Warning: This is a very smutty piece. It contains Mature content much stronger then my other works. Although nothing I haven't read in a standard romance novel.
Unrequited
Thassarian had always liked the Blue Recluse, in life and undeath. It was rare to find the Death Knight there, but if he was in Stormwind he made it a point to visit. The innkeeper, Steven Lohan, knew him well. The generous tips made sure that a mug of ale was delivered routinely to his darkened corner of the room. It was not that Thassarian was against the great conversation one could get from the Mage Quarter's only tavern. Tonight, however, he just wanted a quiet evening to reflect on his own thoughts, before retiring to the room he had rented for the remainder of his stay.
All that ended when he heard the sound of her familiar voice. For a moment he thought it was conjured from his distant memories, and a brooding longing brought forth as a figment of the imagination. Thassarian went rigid in shock as he watched the group of Warriors enter the room. A quick count landed him at about seven of their class. The shocking part was they had made their way from across the city from their main hangout, the Pig and Whistle, at such a late hour.
"Let the alcohol flow, Barkeeper!" The first one through the door called. The long blond hair hanging down her back waving in tempo with her movements. The bare arms thrown high above her head with open palms. She took control of the room with her mere presence. "We just got the word we are all shipping out to Draenor, and we aim to celebrate the night away."
Cheers went up from her fellow Warriors as they swarmed the bar. The rowdy group plopping down their coin and calling their drinks in a great rush. Each of them vying for the bartender's immediate attention. Steven jumped into action. Turning on his charm and working his tip jar to the very best of his ability.
"Excuse us for invading your tavern like this, good sir. The Pig and Whistle has been over taken by SI-7 Agents, now that the news is out." The woman clasp the highly varnished bar, and drummed her fingers. She leaned low, unconsciously showing the deep valley of her heavy breasts to Steven. "No way, I am getting plastered in the middle of a crowd of Rogues. Last time we tried that, it ended up being an all out brawl between us. Spending a few hours in the Stockades is not my idea of a good time."
Thassarian lifted his mug as the glowing blue eyes locked on Warbelle. He knew her. The taste of his drink was not strong enough now that she was here. How could you forget someone like her? Warbelle was an expert of her class. Strong and brash, like the cold climate of Northrend he had first seen her in. Their few meetings had been brief, but for him those moments had left enough of an impression to last a lifetime.
Before the Lich King had been defeated, Warbelle had been contracted by his sister Leryssa to find him. Despite the overwhelming odds Belle, as he called her in his mind, had succeeded.
At the time he had been interrogating the Lich Tanathal. Warbelle had burst into the Wailing Ziggurat covered in blood from the scourge defenders, who had been holding guard outside. That alone had almost broken his focus on the Lich he was trying to subdue. Thassarian had been impressed enough to send the Warrior to collect the Lich's Phylactery. With little conversation from either party, she had left as quickly as she arrived.
It became one of the most hasty retrievals he had ever known. Warbelle honed in on her task like a professional. Once the Lich's will had been crushed, Thassarian turned his attention on his new ally, and was almost dumbstruck at the sight of her. The one who had been aiding him, pulled off her helm and tossed the gloriously golden mane out of her face. The eyes were like liquid chocolate as she stood with her attention focused on Tanathal. Thassarian could feel the eagerness as she awaited a kill order from him. She had no problem dispatching evil, or just about anyone else she was ordered to by her command. He could have gotten used to dedication like that.
But that was not what had originally caught Thassarian's attention. The plate armor did little to cover her firm body. The breasts, pushed up high, were molded to perfectly round globes in her plate. Firm white flesh exposed to his very eager eyes. The open midriff showed the flat stomach that stretched down to the low hanging belt. The short plate pants covered little. The thigh high boots did more service to the shapely thighs, even if it looked like the blacksmith had forged them to her very being. Could one actually be poured into their armor?
Lust was instant on his part. Pure want ripping through him with a forgotten intensity. While in service to the Lich King he had not been struck with such feelings. Now that he was free, obviously there was a new host of sensations he was still capable of feeling. Who would not desire this woman? She was formed like a seductress and fought like a battle maiden. The pure aggressiveness in her every action just pushed all the right buttons for him. Two swords, he knew must weigh a tremendous amount, held in her hands as simply as daggers. They even glowed with their enchantment, highlighting the faint residue of blood from her last assignment. She was turning him on in ways he had thought long gone.
If not for the urgency of his mission, he would have made an overture for her affection right then and there. In that, he had been lucky. Because after sending her off on a mission with Lurid, and the scrolls of power, they had confronted the Prince Valanar and the image of the Lich King. Then he had learned what Warbelle had thought of him from the first. Thanks in kind to his own sister.
Warbelle had been standing back doing her best to ignore all the mush the siblings had been spewing at each other. The bored look on her face as she tapped her foot awaiting her promised reward. There was no way she was going to interrupt the two, but she clearly wanted to be about her business and away from here.
After the heart touching reunion between Leryssa and himself, his little sister turned on the one who
had made it possible. For that Thassarian blamed himself. After all the years of separation and even his death, Leryssa knew her brother to well. The glances he tossed to the Warrior perfectly intercepted by an over protective sister.
"Are you interested in my brother?" Leyrssa had came to her feet and placed herself between them. Arms open wide to ward the intruder off. "Because I just got him back. I am not going to loose him again. No to anyone, not matter who they are."
Thassarian had groaned inwardly at that. Way to kill the mood, little sister. The glowing blue eyes going instinctively to the first woman he had felt anything in the way of passionate emotion for in years. If he had thought undeath was cold, Thassarian was given reason to reevaluate his position in Warbelle's scathing reply.
Her chin lifted as she moved the clear brown eyes to him. An inspection from head to toe and then back up again. The perfect little mouth dropping open as she looked back to Leryssa in confusion. "I hate to inform you of this, little girl, but your brother is a Death Knight. Which, if I am not mistaken, means he is very much dead. Why would you ever consider that I would be interested in a corpse?"
Leryssa was already being defensive. Hearing the woman insult her only family, left in the world, she bristled with rage. "I can see the looks the two of you were giving each other. Don't play coy with me. I am not a little girl!"
Thassarian felt his hand slap down over his face. It was an reflexive move in which he had no control. "Leryssa, dear, the Warrior is only awaiting the reward I promised for her assistance."
"What reward?" His sister turned swiftly and looked up at him in surprise.
"A fine two handed axe." Thassarian shrugged. What else would gain a Warrior's attention, but a two handed chunk of metal capable of dealing explosive amounts of damage?
Warbelle put her hands up before her, and shook her head at the two. She was feeling insulted by the open hostility being directed in her direction. "You know what, keep it. I don't really need it anyway."
"But you earned it. Without your assistance Leryssa could have been killed or worse." Thassarian called out as the Warrior moved to leave. Don't let her go like this. He pleaded in his mind. I may never find her again.
"Let her go, Thassarian. She never wanted the weapon anyway." Leryssa wrapped her arms around him and held on. The warm tears running down her face. "I know what I saw, and I am not ready to share you with anyone else. I have been alone to long, and just got you back."
Warbelle let out a loud sigh as she reached the teleporter. She took a moment to look over at the siblings behind her. "Sweety, I would rather throw myself off Naxxanar, then be caught up in someone else's family drama. This is Azeroth, and we all have enough of our own."
Thassarian turned and pulled his sister close to his chest. The sound of the teleporter activating as he forced his eyes shut. Warbelle was right. Leryssa was all he had left in the world and right then she needed him.
Thassarian continued to go unnoticed in his corner of the Blue Recluse. He felt almost like a stalker sitting there watching Warbelle like this. He frowned watching her slam back shots and drinks of anything offered. Jealousy had to be held in check while she conversed with her fellow Warriors. It was clear she was enjoying their company. The warmth of her laughter was something new to Thassarian, but she gave it easily enough in her circle of friends.
The sound of more people entering the tavern drew their attention. Leaning forward to see a band dragging their instruments into the room.
"Daligar! How did you find a band at this hour? This is impressive." Warbelle came off her stool and stumbled a bit before righting herself. A hand coming to her head., with a giggling smile. "Oh, that hit me hard."
"Maybe you should slow down." One of the older Warriors clasped a hand down on her shoulder. A worried look on his face. "It's a bit early for us to be calling it a night."
Warbelle snarled and shook his hold off. "Slow down? What do I look like, your little sister?"
"Now Warbelle, don't get like that." The Warrior put his hands up. Stepping closer as he leaned low to look in her face. "We just want to take care of our best girl."
She pulled back her fist and let fly. The strike landing in his jaw and sending him to his rear. "You keep that up and I will call you outside. I am sober enough to finish your night. Jerk."
Thassarian settled back and smiled at that. She had not changed at all. He moved his attention to see the band setting up their place. The tables had been pushed back to make space. The floor cleared enough to leave room for dancing.
The one Warbelle had called Daligar striding over to the bar to get himself a congratulatory drink. He had outdone himself finding this group to play for them with such short notice and this late hour. The other men cheering him. They even calling him out some free shots.
Warbelle moved over and wrapped her arms around his bicep. The loud music bursting into the room as she leaned up to whisper in his ear. Thassarian watched as Daligar leaned lower to offer his cheek to her. Instead of kissing it, she reached up to cup his far cheek and pulled him down into a kiss. It was not some innocent peck on the lips shared by good friends. Warbelle's mouth working over his, until he leaned into her. A hand going around her waist to pull her closer in an intimate move.
The sound of crunching metal, brought Thassarian's eyes down to the mug in his hand. The sides pushed in with no small amount of strength. Shaking his head he tried not to look back up. He did not want to see her with her lover, but it was like telling a moth not to go to a flame.
There was anger in his eyes that melted away when they lifted to the scene again. Warbelle pulled back from the passionate encounter. Daligar falling to the floor before her in a heap.
"Blast you, Warbelle. You are such a bitch!" Daligar reached up and swatted at her plate covered calf in a helpless manner. "Stop playing with me like that."
She reached back and hopped up on her stool. She crossed her legs and chuckled down at him. "It's not my fault you keep falling for it." A hand rose to wave at Steven for another drink. The laughing brown eyes fixed on her victim."Is it my fault the lot of you are so easy to sway with so little effort?"
"Playing hard to get isn't going to get me in your bed any faster, Warbelle." Daligar laughed as he climbed to his feet slowly. The large hands going to her arms. He stared at her in open amusement. "And there isn't a man in here that wouldn't want a crack at that, am I right men?"
The response was varied, but it was clear that most of these men were just as enthralled with Tharassian's little seductress as he was. That did nothing to lighten his mood, but what had he been expecting when setting his sights on a woman like her. She was a powder keg in a world of firecrackers. Even if a man managed to win her, the resulting explosion could take off his hand, maybe even end his life.
"Oh, I see." Warbelle raised her sloshing mug to the room in a mock salute. "Well, you can all blame the ones who came before you, for my jaded opinion on your ability to secure my exuberance in the bedroom. This woman has had her fill of your kind. Promises of skill and mastery of a woman's body that would melt my mind, and leave me a quivering mass in their arms. Only to find I become more of a teacher then a lover. Their stamina is at a minimum, and the recuperation time finds me lost to a disappointed slumber. Then in the morning only to find that my stalwart lover has turned into an over protective beast. No man is allowed to lecture me and set my limits. As if I would ever put up with interference like that in my life." She lifted her mug to her lips and chugged it back. "Yes, I'll drink to that! Boys, the lot of ya!"
"Now that isn't fair to the rest of us." One of the men laughed as he pointed across the room at her. He placed a hand to his chest, as if she had broken his heart. "At least give me a chance to prove what a failure I am before you dismiss me. You might not enjoy my efforts, but I know I would." He gave a teasing wink.
That garnered a hearty round of laughter from their companions.
"Oh I intend to!" She leaned back on the bar. The elbows resting on the wooden surface. "As soon as I am drunk enough, someone is going to win the big prize. No way I am wasting my last night in Stormwind sleeping alone."
That was a kick to Thassarian's gut. The blue eyes going like a predator to his prey as he scanned the other men in the room. If they thought for one moment he would allow any of them to escape with her for the night, they would be dead wrong. He would be putting an end to that before it even started.
Steven Lohan chuckled and slid her another drink across the bar. "Don't forget the hard working gentleman serving your drinks. That one is on the house, dear woman."
"Keep them coming, Bartender, and you will find yourself at the top of my list." She winked over at him. Wrapping a hand around the glass.
Daligar pulled the drink out of her hands, and set it to the bar. "Before you fall face first to the ground, how about I get a chance to turn you around a few times in my arms. I didn't go through all this trouble to find the band, and not to dance with the most desirable woman in Stormwind."
"But everyone dances on the floor." Warbelle shook her head. She moved to climb from the stool to the bar top. "If I am going to play a whore tonight, I might as well shake it where everyone can see."
"Beauty, my bar is at your service, but could you removed the plate boots first? The scratches they leave never buff out." Steven pointed out.
Warbelle nodded and kicked her long legs forward. The shaking hands fumbling with the clasps on her plate armor. A huge sigh as she dropped her face into her lap. Then tossing the blonde hair back, she looked beseechingly to Daligar. "A little help here? Seems to night's present can not unwrap itself."
Daligar moved his hands expertly down one leg removing the plate. Steven Lohan fumbling with the other side as he watched Daligar's lead. The boots removed and set the the floor. Warbelle looked over and bid her boots farewell. Fully believing she would never see them again, because come morning she would probably not remember any of what was happening right now. It was not like her to be so openly loose in morals. Yes, she bent them to suit her on occasion, but they were going to face the Iron Horde. Now was not the time to be a rigid prude. If she died, there would be no regret behind her. No final wish that she had not taken advantage of. She was alive tonight, and she would toss caution to the wind.
Warbelle pushed up to her feet and swayed on the bar. A hand pointed out to the band. "Play something fun that I can shake my hips too. That's what they all want to see anyway."
The music started and Thassarian lifted his mug, only to find it empty. The blue glow of his eyes going brighter as he watched her move in perfect time with the music. He had no idea she could dance like this. His Warbelle could have done it for a living. The same muscles she used to fight, were turned into a temptation of a lifetime.
The others in the room moving to watch the show she was giving them. The arms moving so her hands could drag across her body in open allure. They brought the eyes to where she wanted them focused. Warbelle entranced the men as she rocked in a provocative motion. It brought Thassarian to his feet before he even realized what he was doing. A breath sucked between his teeth, as he forced himself to remain where he was.
Slowly she knelt down, and lifted a shot that Steven handed her. The free hand pointing at Daligar and shaking one slender finger at him to join her up on the bar. Then pointing to another man who had taken his place near the bar as well.
The two did not miss the chance she was offering. Their plate boots were tossed to the floor and they came up to pin her between them. Clearly, having selected her final contestants of the night's lottery. She moved between them like a siren stirring their desires. Warbelle was inflaming her audience to crass whistles and toss lewd calls in expectation.
More drinks were ordered and another one handed up to those on the bar. Warbelle taking a heavy mug to her lips. A quick drink, before shoving the remaining contents to Daligar. "I already kissed you tonight. Let me give Reagen an equal chance."
Upon hearing that the other Warrior lifted Warbelle as if she were a feather and twirled her away from Daligar. Dipping her low as his mouth came close to hers. "About time you give the best a chance, War. I have been waiting forever."
She smiled as his mouth came over hers. Reaching up to lock her arms around his strong shoulders and holding him close. The world was spinning, but it was not from Reagen's kiss. She was well aware of that. The excessive drinking was catching up to her, and Warbelle was almost floating with it's effects. Reagen pulled her up to swiftly and looked into her brown eyes. Eyes that pinned shut as her world rocked and stole the strength from her limbs. For a moment she thought she was going to vomit.
She stumbled backward. Unable to find her center as she toppled off the slick bar's surface. Warbelle fully expected to hit her wooden stool on her way down. It would be a hard hit to the floor, but she had taken worse without the alcohol to numb the pain. Instead, to her vast surprise strong arms caught her. They even gave way under her weight, cushioning the fall, before lifting her high against a plate covered chest.
Thassarian had moved without thinking. The moment his angel had started to topple. Not that he was the only man that had moved to catch her. He had literally death gripped one fellow out of the way to get to Warbelle first. Not wanting to see her in another man's arms ever again.
She rose her hand to her forehead as she regained her focus. The brown eyes gazed up at him. "My hero." The words whispered as she threw her arms around his neck, and captured his lips to hers as she had been doing all night long.
Thassarian could not stop the surge of lust that tore at his body. The soft hands that cupped his bearded cheeks pulling him deeper into her molten seduction. The warm mouth opening under his. The scrapping of her teeth against his, as her tongue invaded his mouth. The sound of distant cheers of their inebriated audience urging the two on.
He slowly dropped Warbelle's legs to the ground. Seeking to let her feet settle on the floor. She slid over his hard body. The shaking of her knees causing them to buckle, so that he was forced to pull her back up to lean heavily against him. The small feminine hands moving with knowing skill to the clasps of his chest piece. He could feel her plucking at them. "Belle, no. You're completely drunk."
"Of course I am. It feels wonderful." She smiled up at him. The arms encircling his neck as the fingers played in his snow white hair. "Are you my winner? Oh Yes. I think so. Let's find somewhere private where you can reward me properly."
Thassarian groaned at her statement. Images of things he had wanted to do to her for years playing in his head. It was hard to push those dreams back down, and focus on the reality he found himself in. "Do you even know who I am?"
"Of course I do. You are..." She blinked her eyes trying to focus on his face. The a quick frown before saying, "Okay, no clue. Still your male, that's about all I expect out of my lovers these days." She leaned in and moved her lips over his neck. Then she paused for a moment. "That might be where I have been going wrong. Awe, hell. I'm to drunk to think about this now. Take me upstairs."
"I think instead I should take you home." He pulled her into his chest, and look at the door in contemplation.
"No." Warbelle pulled back and turned to look at the room. "Maybe I should take Daligar and Reagen up stairs instead. Two. Yes, two might be able to get the job done. I should have thought of this, hic, before."
That did it. Warbelle was lifted and tossed over his shoulder like a simple sack of grain. There was no way to keep her away from the masses of her devoted followers tonight. He looked at the room, full of of her friends, daring them to raise a single opposition to his claim over her company. To his shock many of the other Warriors had already turned to other diversions. Daligar was knocking back more shots with Reagen. The only one giving him a remotely disapproving stare was Steven. But he was to busy refilling the mugs of ale to do that for very long.
"Oh, where ever you are taking me hero, hurry up. Hanging like this is making me sick." Warbelle's voice was accompanied by a slap on his plate covered rear. "Giddy up!"
Thassarian moved up the stairs and came to the door of his room. Setting her back to her feet, and making sure she stayed that way. Because Warbelle reached out to grab hold of the wall as she sank lower. "Do you even have any idea how much you drank this evening?" He growled taking her by the arms and pulled her up. The reverberation of his voice catching her attention.
A little purr escaped her. The hands going to his chest. "I like your voice. Are you doing that throaty echo thing on purpose? Because it's really working for me right now."
"You do not remember me?" Thassarian almost hoped it was the alcohol that was blinding her to the memories. How could she have forgotten him? He was not a forgettable person. The fear and terror he inspired alone had imprinted him into the nightmares of many. Since he had become a Death Knight, he had not had to introduce himself twice.
"How much I drank? Of course I forgot to keep track. I came out here with the sole purpose of getting as drunk as possible, and having a raunchy one night stand. I want to be used and abused in the most pleasurable of ways, good man. Don't let me down because I am really counting on you for that second part." Warbelle reached out and patted his arm with drunken encouragement.
And Thassarian thought he was turned on before? This new sensation was almost painful at her open honesty. Far surpassing anything he had experienced in life. How many times had he had fantasies about her? Far to many to count. Even Koltira had told him he needed to find her and purge this need before it ruined him. He might be way beyond that point now. The door was pushed opened and Thassarian swept Warbelle's legs out from under her and hauled her against his chest. Bringing her into his room with new resolve.
The roughness of his gesture causing her to giggle manically. The feet waving in the air.
He kicked the door closed with the back of his heel. The room was not small like the ones on the far end of the city. This was the Mage Quarter, and their kind were typically from regions known for opulence. The room's decor was restrained, but still far more then a Death Knight or a Warrior would be expecting.
The brown eyes moved around the room. She took everything in from the low burning light from the sconces on the wall. "If I didn't know any better, I would suspect you were planning this." Then looking up at him. "Am I taking someone's place for the evening?"
He moved her over to the large bed. It was covered in the most lavish blue comforter. "Belle, love, I really do not think this is a good idea. You are to drunk to know what you are doing. Maybe we should wait for you to sober up some more."
"And what do you expect to do while we wait for that up coming miracle?" She reached down into her waist and pulled up a flask. She unscrewed the top and tipped it back. Then rubbed her arm over her mouth and thrust the container toward Thassarian expectantly.
He frowned at her action. She clearly had no intention of sobering up even a little. Taking the flask he drank the rest of it and set it on the dresser away from her. He turned to face her. "We could talk."
The sound of her groan of annoyance echoed the room. She fell back on the bed and struggled with the clasps of her chest armor. "Enough with the pretty words. I didn't come up here with you to be wooed. I need a man tonight. Come be one."
She had no idea what she was baiting. Laying there on the bed just waiting for him to make his final decision. Thassarian watched her win her battle with one of the clasps and moved to the next. Decision. He snorted at that. There was no decision to be made here.
The woman he had wanted for years was rolling on his bed, stripping off her clothing, and demanding his services. From her own confessions she had never had a good lover a day in her life. All that was about to change. Pulling his armor off with determination. Thassarian did not have to look at his clasps as he worked. Keeping his eyes on her body squirming as she tried to be free of her plate confines.
"Hell." She stopped and lay limp on the bed. "Why do they have to be so difficult to undo when I'm like this? Are you going to come help," She looked over to see him setting his armor aside and standing up. The large body of perfectly chiseled muscles that looked as if it had come from a fine painting exposed to her widening eyes. "me."
He didn't answer her, just enjoyed that look on her face. She was surprised by him. Good. If there was anything Thassarian was not the least bit insecure about it was his fighting skill, and understandably the body he used for it. Of all the Undead creations, there was nothing more perfected then a Death Knights body. He never had to worry about losing his form in any respect. It was forged for the immortal usage of all time.
"Are you real?" Warbelle whispered as she let her eyes travel over him. Both hands coming to rub over her face. The fists rubbing at her eyes before looking back at him. She chewed on her lower lip in awe.
Thassarian stepped across the room to stand over her. Looking down at her disheveled mass of hair streaming across the pillow. The eyes shining up at him in disbelief. "I am very much real." A hand dropping to the warmth of her face. Allowing the sensation of that heat to draw into him. It was wrong to absorb that bit of life from her in this moment, but well worth it to watch the shiver of his touch roll over her flesh. A gasp as she closed her eyes. The arch of her back pressing her breasts higher into the air. The rattling sound of her plate still valiantly holding to her form. That had to go and quickly.
Warbelle reached up to touch him, but he grabbed her wrists in his hands. One leg was tossed over her torso. The hardness of his desire pressed against her flat stomach. The weight of his body holding her hostage. Thassarian pushed her hands into the pillow on either side of her head. Their eyes meeting for a long moment as he let the reality of this filter down to her. She wanted to lose herself in a lover's arms, and she would get it. Thassarian dropped his head, and she lifted ready for him to kiss her with the hot intensity of emotion he was generating within her. At the last instant he dipped to the side. The breath coming to her ear in a hushed whisper that was almost drowned out by the hammering of her heart.
"No matter what I do, do not fight me. Tonight you have no control. I claim that for myself, and you, my precious Warbelle, are my willing victim." He felt her stiffen under him. She didn't like the tables turned on her like that. Thassarian did not have to see her face to know it. Before she could utter protest in any form he took her earlobe into his mouth and sucked on it for the barest moment. Then a light nip brought her to a pained gasp. "Do you understand what I am telling you?" He pressed her for a reply. It didn't matter what she said now. In the end he would bend her to his will, and brand her very soul with his desire.
He felt her nod and remain still under him. Satisfied he let go of her hands and turned his attention to the plate armor. The first of the remaining latches worked loose easily enough. The sound of the metal rattling only slightly louder then her excited panting. She lifted her hands to help, but the glowing blue eyes pinned on her with a weight as heavy as his hands. "Do not move, woman. I will tell you if I want your assistance."
The brown eyes narrowed on him. He could see the rebellion shrouded there in the dark depths, but she let her hands drop back down as she was instructed. The effort of restraining herself was as powerful as an aphrodisiac.
"Good girl." He pulled her armor up and tossed it across the room. It hit the wall loudly. The sound startling her, but she stared up at him struggling to remain motionless.
"I am not a girl." She snarled back, but remained unmoving.
Thassarian closed his eyes and laughed. A short shake of his hair. The white strands falling around his face as he looked down at her. "You are what I say you are tonight."
"You are a control freak."
He moved his hands over her breasts. "What's that saying? Pot calling the kettle black?" The fingers were gentle at first as he watched the lovely round globes fill his hands and then some. How he had imagined what this moment would be like. It was no where near the real thing. He squeezed down tighter until the flesh bulged between his fingers. The red tip beckoning him to take it into his mouth.
Thassarian gave in to the urge. The moment he rolled his tongue over her, the cry rang out. Warbelle twisted under him. He pulled the nipple into his mouth and sucked hard. The other free hand fondling it's sister. A thumb flicking over the pointed peak. He was rewarded with the sound of her breath breaking on tiny cries of pleasure he was invoking in Warbelle.
He felt her hands come to his hair. The fingers threading in and pulling hard. What had she said about poor lovers? No wonder. Clearly they could not control her. She was used to calling the shots, setting the pace. He ignored her desperate attempts to redirect him. Continuing to worship her breasts as he had wanted to do for years. The pain she extracted from him only exciting him more. Moving to give equal time to each breast, as Warbelle shook below him in expanding desire.
"Please."
He lifted his head to look up at her. "Are you begging for mercy? Because, I have none." He raised himself to settle his weight lower. One strong thigh coming into contact with her feminine folds and discovering the reaction his efforts were having on her. Warbelle was soaked with demanding need. Grinding it against the hot core of her burning passion. Watching her pin her eyes shut. The nails coming to bite furiously into his shoulders. The pain causing him to suck in his breath. Knowing she would leave war wounds that would stay with him for days after. "And it seems you like it that way." Thassarian chuckled knowing he was winning this fight.
Turning his attention to removing the belt that held up the leg armor. It was removed quickly and dismissed. The leg armor, he took his time with. A hand moving over each hip. Dipping his head low to kiss the gentle slope of her stomach just under her belly button. He could feel her skin quivering. The hands working the metal away exposing more flesh to his waiting lips.
He was rewarded with a sound half cry have moan as the last of her gear was stripped away. Leaving her as naked and exposed as he was. Raising over to see her body trembling in a state of heightened arousal. The skin was already starting to shine with sweat. "You are beautiful." It was all he could say. She was exactly that. To him even the scars she bore from past battles merely played over her. Telling him a story of strength and spirit that could not be broken. A woman who had gone where even few men dared to go, and using her wit and power survived. Even he had failed in that. Although the deck had been firmly stacked against him.
"Just do me now." She looked up at him. She didn't say please this time. Oh how quickly she learned.
"What happened to your lovely little begging, Belle? I have to say I really liked the sound of it. Perhaps you could try it again. I might find that mercy I have been so sorely lacking of late." He teased her openly. Oh the look on her face was priceless.
"I think I hate you."
"Let me prove you wrong in the only way that counts." The palm of his hand was slick with her evident desire as he pressed it against her pulsing need in slow circles. Two of his fingers rocking in and out of her body.
Warbelle choked on her own breath at his pleasurable assault. He must have heard her speech from before. Damn if she should learn to keep her big mouth shut. Had she not said she wanted a lover who melted her mind? Melted? No, it was flat out gone. She lost control of everything as she shook and burned for more of his touch. The deepest part of her aching for more then the teasing promise of his fingers.
He watched her push back on the bed. The hips rising against his hand in hard undulations. The cries coming more erratic with each panted breath. Thassarian could see what he was doing to her. It was evident in the growing wetness around his hand. She was his for the taking now. There was no doubt primal need was wining out where everything else had failed. She would find no fault with him. Of that he was sure.
A wicked thought taking form as he moved to the bed and pulled her over him. Just as he had suspected she wasted no time impaling herself. He took in a deep breath as she slid down his length to the hilt. She was so hot, wet and ready. The warmth of her pulsing around him as her relieved sigh echoed in his ears.
And then she rode him. The sound of their bodies coming together mixing with the sound of breaths. It was like music when Warbelle's soft cries began. She rocked her hips against him in steady rhythm. Grinding down hard while her hands dug into his chest. The short nails tearing at his flesh in unconscious abandon.
He helped guide her pace with his hands kneeing into the round curves of her backside. Making sure she rose to the full length. Almost to the point of leaving him entirely before slipping back down to devour his entirety in her warmth.
Thassarian looked up to see her eyes glazed with passion. The red lips parted as each short puff of breath escaped her. She was so close to her climax. Tightening his flank he rose his pelvis higher, pressing deeper against her, and she exploded against him. The shoulders dropping forward as she simultaneously cried out and gasped for air. He could feel the spasm of her release wracking her body. The clenching of her core around his in shuddering waves.
She finally slowed a bit to take in great breaths of air, but he was not about to let her go easily. Thassarian's hands grasped hold of her hips and pulled her down hard. Rolling over until Warbelle was pinned under him. He thrust again and watched her head roll back and forth on the over stuffed pillow.
She was still teetering on the verge of her previous climax. He let the dew of her desire glide his thrusts fully against her. Reigniting that hot passion she had just escaped from. Pulling her back into the mindless state where she was in full need of him. And when she was firmly locked in it's hold he held her there. Refusing to allow her to come down from the pinnacle.
Thassarian basked in it. Wielding his body as he wielded his sword in combat. Dominating her to his will in the bed in a way no man had done before, in or out of it. He could tell she had never experience this kind of sexual torment. She begged for him to stop as the sweat rolled over her warm skin. He leaned over to lick one large drop that coursed down her chin. The salt mixed with the sweetness of her body. It called to him to taste her skin more. The mouth working along her neck.
Warbelle's hands coming to his biceps. The strong fingers biting down hard into the muscle. He bucked his hips against her in increasing speed. Knowing that he too had finally come to his limit. Pressing his face into her shoulder to cut off his impassioned cry of release. It seemed to go on forever. He felt her pull everything he had to give from him. Although he was spent he could not stop the violent shuddering of his body as he thrust over and over again until he collapsed on her. The still hard length of him driven deep was still twitching in the aftermath of their dangerous love making.
Damn her. There would be no escape after this. Now he knew just how well they came together. He would be cursed with want of her forever. Pushing up to look down at his lover beneath him. He was waiting for her reaction. There was no way she would find fault with his display this night. He was certain she had experience the most impassioned display of sexual prowess. Let the praise flow like Stonewrought Dam!
Eyes closed, she groaned and moved one arm to push at him weakly. No where near recovered from the marathon she had just experienced. "Get off. You are far to heavy to make a good blanket."
He chuckled and rolled to the side. That was true enough. Reaching out to pull her into his arms. Wanting nothing more then to hold her close to his chest and breath in the scent of her. Which was close to pure sex could be at this moment.
"Oh no. I don't cuddle. It's just not me." She dropped her arms, and placed a foot to his stomach and launched him out of the bed. Rolling onto her back and stretching across the bed, claiming far more then her share. A hand moving to push her hair out of her face. Not even bothering looking to see how her new lover was taking to his place on the floor.
The thick rug broke his fall. Then a pillow landed on his face. A clear sign that she didn't share her bed for any longer then to see the deed done. Irritated he tried to rise, but found that he had depleted to much of his stamina to sit up. Curse his want of her to the infinite hell. That was why he found himself stuck on a floor. "Woman, Daligar was right. You are a bitch."
The sound of her laughter followed the reply of, "Yes, well lover, I do have a reputation to protect." Then there was a long silence before he heard her say softly, "You were amazing."
Thassarian felt his anger at her slip away with that statment. Pulling the pillow under his head he started at the ceiling in smug satisfaction.
The next morning, Thassarian sat down on the bed and looked at Warbelle wrapped in the sheet. It covered most of her, but not the enticing little back side that was pushed out toward him. He could not restrain himself from running his hand over it. Admiring the small bruises that were left over from the previous night. He was sure if he looked close enough he could make out his finger prints.
"Oh, Light have mercy." The sound of her voice was hoarse as both hands went to her head. "Who taught the birds to scream."
Thassarian chuckled. He had not even noticed the light chirping just outside the window, until she mentioned it. "Finally regretting all the good drink you had last night?"
"No." She moaned in defiance. Although it was clear she was. Sitting up with great effort she forced her eyes open. "Good sir, I assume from the stiffness of my limbs, a fond thank you, is in order?"
He remained silent while she focused on him. She blinked once, then shook her head. A cry of pain as she stopped that course of action. A hand going to her head again.
The brown eyes opening again to look at him clearly, "Th... Thassarian? What are you doing here?" Then her mouth dropping open. "Am I dead?" Hands clasping to her chest and up to her face. Feeling her body in an attempt to determine if she had lost her very life.
"No, love. You are not dead." He chuckled with amusement at her reaction.
"Then why are you here?" Warbelle was clearly confused as to what had happened. Then just as worried as before she gasped out. "Did I kill someone?"
"Warbelle." Thassarian snorted. "Why is that where your mind goes when I am near you?"
"Because you are a Death Knight. Why else would you be here?" She looked around the room. "Where is my armor?"
"You had a wild night, but most of it can be found strung around the room."
A slow smile was not accompanied by a blush. "That I know. I can feel it, and not just in my head" She moved to set her feet on the floor and tossed the sheet aside. "At least I can see to find my armor now."
Thassarian watched her move around before him with nothing on. She did not have a shred of modesty. Didn't she remember anything? "Warbelle?" He asked again. Feeling a slow hesitancy as he addressed her.
"Where is he?" She pulled on her pants as she looked over at Thassarian expectantly.
"Who?"
"The man whose bed I graced last night? I should at least be courteous before taking my leave, and say a respectable goodbye to him." Warbelle continued to pull her armor on. She was a bit embarrassed to find the Death Knight here, but showing such emotion was not her style.
He knew this was a possibility from the first. Now he knew what way the wind was blowing. "Belle, That man would be me." He waited for the fall out.
Instead he got laughter. Loud resounding laughter as she pulled more of her armor on with none of the issue she had with the clasps the night before. "Cute, but we all know whose dead here." Then in a musing tone, in pure curiosity. "Can the undead even get it up? I am supposing not. Unless you're in a permanent state of postmortem rigidity, yes?"
Horror filled Thassarian's face. He had not expected out right denial of his ability to preform at all.
Warbelle froze in the middle of her dressing seeing his expression. "Oh. That was rude of me. I am so sorry for offending you."
She did not remember. He should have seen this coming. That even if she did, it was Warbelle. What would she find desirable about a corpse? Wasn't that what she had said before? It had stung before, but after last night, the memories of her melting around him, it burned. Burned to the point of rage. He worked with all he had to hold it in. "If you will excuse me. I have some business I need to finish up here in Stormwind and head back to the Acherus."
"Thassarian. I am sorry. I spoke with out thinking." Warbelle moved after him.
Ignoring her was the best option at this point. "The room is paid up for the rest of the day. Take all the time you need." Was all he could get out before leaving. The slamming of the door was so fierce that it merely bounced from the hinges rather then closing.
Warbelle watched him go and slowly sat down on the bed. Pondering what he had said. A finger going to her mouth as she considered he was telling the truth. It would come back to her. It always did after one of her rare revelries. It just took time, and time was not something she had, with her upcoming deployment to Draenor.
A deep sigh and a shake of her head she knew there was one thing to do. Go to the Bartender, get the full story and a pot of coffee. She had a feeling she was going to spend the majority of her last day in Stormwind hunting down one moody Death Knight. The soreness in her limbs told her she had much to thank him for, and insulting him had not been on her to do list when it came to dying without regret.
The last thing he wanted to see before Thassarian left Stormwind was Warbelle, but there she was standing at the Flight Master. He rolled his eyes and marched forward intending to get his mount and be gone. He wanted to be angry with her. To hate her with all the rage he could possess. That would be hard to do if he looked at her very long. Knowing that she would magically steal his resolve.
"Thassarian." She watched him pass her. The sound of his plated boots crushing the stone landing area. "I remembered."
That brought him up short, but he did not look back. "Should I care?" The nastiness in his tone was like acid.
"Probably not. I need a moment to speak with you, and I will be out of your way." She reached out and took hold of his arm. Leaning close she looked up at him with those eyes he could not deny.
Why did she cheat like this? He could not refuse her when she tossed him those imploring eyes that begged for forgiveness. Scowling, he nodded and lifted his arm away from her. Leading the way to a more secluded area where they could speak openly. He let the sting of his anger fly free. "Say what insults you have left to cast at me, so I can be off."
"Listen, about that, I am sorry. I am just uncomfortable being face with mortality. Right now a bit more then ever." Warbelle took his hand in both of hers and looked up at him. "I was selected for the front line of the invasion of the Dark Portal. I am sure you know what that means, since many of the Death Knights have been assigned to that duty as well."
Thassarian's head shot up knowing the implications. He looked around wildly praying he had heard her wrong.
"That is why I was so crazy last night. The chances of my survival are almost nil. Even if I was the most skilled fighter in all the world. I can't take out the entire Iron Horde, Thassarian. So from a soon to be dead woman to a dead man, I am glad it was you that spent that last night with me." She moved to set a hand to his cheek. "You really are the best."
She waited for him to speak, but Thassarian was caught in stunned silence. He could merely stare at her wondering what he should do about this horrific turn of events.
Warbelle nodded and sighed sadly at his lack of response. "I don't blame you for hating me after the cruel things I have said. I have to go now. My unit already flew out five minutes ago. If you had been five more minutes getting here, I would have missed you." Reaching into her satchel she pulled out a flask, he remember from the night before. Tossing it to him, "Think if me when you use it, Thassarian."
The End.
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