It was the utter relaxation that awoke Vera, dark eyes slowly fluttering open in the warm glow of the sweet smelling tent.
Her mind was slow, but it was still able to process the unusual softness beneath her, something very different from her usual tattered mat that lay beside the table in the far corner.
The second thing she realized was the free movement of her hands, though upon flexing them they still felt raw from abuse. She was not chained.
Vera sat up quickly; the thin blanket that once encased her sliding from her chest, a third observation alerting her to the fact that she was naked. It felt wonderful, however, to be free of the thick robes she was usually forced to wear around The Fort. It was always so hot and even now in this tent the rays of the sun seemed to be reverberating off of the coarse tent walls, providing a musky hum of liquid, consuming heat.
After a moment's inspection of her current position, she realized that she was in Vulpes' bed.
A random, consuming panic suddenly washed over her in this knowledge, her base instincts rapidly screaming at her to flee the comfort of the mattress before discovery, wrists sensitive, shoulder throbbing, mind racing—
—But then… Oh…
Memories of last night came to her in a fevered flash as she attempted to scan the recesses of her brain for any clues, the lingering stickiness to the skin of her back probably due to Vulpes' act of fucking her on the table that still bore the many fruits the slaves had provided.
She couldn't really complain over the mess however, instead finding the nostalgia of sliding restlessly against the slick, mashed collection of foods as Vulpes held her down a rather award-inspiring accomplishment.
"Am I to assume that you enjoyed your reward?"
A startled glance towards the smooth address alerted her to her fourth—er, or was that fifth—observation of that strange morning.
Vulpes was sitting casually at the table she was once associated frequently with, though the room didn't look so disastrous as it did last night—quite the polar opposite actually, immaculate as it had always been. Vera assumed the slaves had cleaned the couple's mess up before it was even light out.
Vera couldn't help but notice how immensely attractive he looked in that moment; face still as sharp and intelligent as always, noble nose and hard eyes, but he seemed so… sated. He was wearing some of his armor, except for his breast-plate and shoulder protectors, leaving him in his armored kilt and dull red tunic.
God forbid Vulpes Inculta somehow gaining the ability to read minds, for in that moment, watching that man sit so comfortably at a table he had taken her upon more then once, with his steely eyes now observing her nakedness casually, Vera actually felt a surge of affectionate devotion—the sudden urge to gain his approval.
Vera was so utterly disgusted with the foreign feeling that she stamped it down violently with the secondary urge to make his blood boil.
With a lazy smirk and a lingering stretch, she was out of bed, strutting in all her dirty, scarred glory over to his lap, settling her bare butt onto his thigh and curling into him in a rather feline-like manner.
He stiffened underneath her, seeming to be trying to lean away from the sticky, sweaty feel of her skin—probably due to the spotless condition of his freshly washed body. "Get off me before I chain you back to this table."
"Mm…" She breathed into his neck, wiggling her behind against his crotch lewdly with a smile pressing to his steadily thrumming pulse. "Ever get morning glory?"
Despite his disgust with her, she definitely felt the derisive chuckle that rumbled in his throat.
"It is not morning, you imbecile." He snapped, leaning his face away from hers with a haughty grimace as she pressed lazy kisses up his jaw. "It is mid-day. I allowed your rest, you'll need it."