Swearing throughout. T/W: Part I: Violence, fire and blood.
A/N: My very first Skyrim fill; Please tell me what you think! Also, I'm trying out some Old Norse; and this got longer than I intended, so if you want sex skip to part II, "Intimacy."
Original prompt: "Adrenaline-fueled sex after surviving the battle with the dragon near Whiterun. Any gender PC is fine."
Last Seed, 4E 201
I. Allegiance Strong Hunt (Fight the Dragon)
Irileth knew she wanted Ash the first time she brandished a longsword at him. He came to warn of dragons; she'd assumed he was some assassin who got past the guards.
He knew the look in her eyes but somehow didn't realize what it meant, maybe because she was the jarl's húskarl and was acting like an overzealous bodyguard. Then she kept watching him, but that was normal—sometimes everyone in Skyrim seemed to be watching him. Their heads would follow him even when he was invisible and made no sound.
Irileth and Ash saw each other a few more times as he came and went.
Then he gave a stone to Farengar Secret-Fire, and while those two and Jarl Balgruuf the Greater and some blonde human trying to conceal her identity were talking, a city guard came rushing in to report a dragon sighting to the jarl. He'd been with three other guards at Whiterun's western watchtower. He said the dragon was very fast, but only circling around the tower when he left. Jarl Balgruuf sent Irileth and Ash and some guardsmen to kill the dragon and find out what they were dealing with.
When Irileth and Ash reached the significant investigative force of four guards she'd mustered by their barracks at the entrance of the city proper, she said they were going to kill the dragon, and gave a short speech to embolden the guards and remind them of their honor, during which she frequently looked at Ash. He didn't think anything of that either; he thought everyone was beautiful, though he knew some people considered him especially attractive, and he'd grown accustomed to getting such looks wherever he went in Tamriel.
The six of them ran outside of the city, and from its outskirts could see the western watchtower's ruin. Large chunks of its stone were spread about. Irileth didn't see the smoke or handful of fires still burning until they were closer.
Ash had a lot of weapons about his person: he bristled with them, swords and axes and knives and a brown leather bullwhip, and a longbow with a quiver on his back. Irileth liked that about the weapons. She had a good, warm and tingly feeling about Ash, this tall man of otherworldly, ethereal beauty and grace, but she had a very bad feeling about the dragon situation.
They saw the dragon coming back. Mortified, the one surviving guard from the previous attack said, "Kynareth save us, here he comes again!"
The other guards marveled at it. One said, "Shor's bones!"
Another said, "It's enormous!"
To which she distantly heard Ash say, "I've seen bigger."
Irileth said to them all, "Here he comes! Find cover and make every arrow count!"
Only one of the five guards even tried to find cover.
For everyone but Ash, the fight with the dragon started badly and only got worse. The remaining survivor from the previous attack stayed in the watchtower, but the whole contingent of four city watchmen Irileth brought with her had been clustered together, presumably in a bedazzled kind of shock at the sight of the huge dragon—which took full advantage of that; over the course of a few seconds, it used its breath and voice as a weapon, shouted something Irileth couldn't understand, and a massive cone of dragonfire burst from its mouth, and then kept coming in a continuous stream, engulfing all four guards in a wide spray.
Unfortunately, those four men were wearing only the standard kit of the Whiterun guard: cloth trousers; fur boots; a short-sleeved mail shirt, a haubergeon with a scale cuirass over it; wrapped over that a long sash of their hold's color, yellow. Each guard also wore a pointed, spiked iron enclosed helm and carried a completely flammable wooden, round targe shield with an iron rim and the front painted yellow and emblazoned with their city's symbol, a horse's head. None of it helped against the fire. At best, it made the men's already excruciating deaths a little more painful, because the metal of their mail, scale and helms got very hot before melting. They didn't have time to raise their shields, which wouldn't have helped anyway.
Four burning shields fell to the ground. When the dragon stopped spraying flame, only one of them was dead. The other three suffered. Irileth would remember their convulsive, panicked, tortured screaming whenever she thought of dragons, and sometimes when she saw any open flame, for some time. She heard it quite well. Then it stopped.
Ash seemed to evade dragonfire with ease, avoiding huge cones of it and the dragon's colossal snapping teeth like a dancer more than a warrior, or whatever he was. Ultimately Ash's steel bested its fire. When he was close-in fighting the dragon, he held the bow in one hand and wielded an axe in the other. It looked like an axe, anyway; he called it a "tomahawk." He later slung the bow across his back and used a curved longsword in his other hand.
There had been four guards in the dragon's previous attack: One had survived and remained at the watchtower; one had reported to Jarl Balgruuf; the other two were missing, presumed dead. The surviving guard, who'd stayed alive by hiding in the watchtower, worked with Irileth to try to kill the dragon, to no avail. The guard still had his gladius shortsword, but against the dragon he used a wooden reflex bow better matched against deer than flying, godlike killing machines, and Irileth used her recurved elven longbow, made for war and faring poorly against dragon hide. Irileth and the guard's arrows occasionally hit the dragon, though it didn't seem to notice. Hoping to demoralize it, Irileth supplemented her ranged weapon with vociferous use of foul language.
While at the outset Irileth was panicking, and the four guards were dying, Ash was taking up his bow, some sort of recurved longbow made of composited materials like wood and horn, or bone, and sinew. Ash reacted so quickly that he was shooting arrows into the dragon even before it shouted fire onto Irileth's men. In that first moment, when it was focused on killing her men, it seemed not to comprehend that Ash was hurting it. It groaned in pain as it shouted fire; unlike with Irileth and the one surviving guard, the dragon acknowledged when Ash's arrows struck it, staggering and roaring and bleeding. To hit with such force, Ash's bow must've had an incredible draw weight. Once while the dragon flew over the watchtower Ash shot it, and his arrow must have torn quite a hole because a large amount of the dragon's blood splattered onto the watchtower, and some fell down on Irileth's arm and shoulder—hot and dark red, almost black. It felt like a hot sleeve.
The dragon landed and shortly took off once or twice. While it was on the ground, Ash got close—avoiding its every attack—and hit it with his tomahawk, knocking off dragonscales and chopping into flesh, and then got away unharmed.
Irileth and the surviving guard couldn't get the dragon's attention anymore, but it shouted fire at Ash more than five times. Yet Ash, whom Irileth learned then was an astonishingly fast runner, eluded the dragon at every turn. And he was keeping it occupied, drawing it away from Irileth and the guard, as well as chipping off its natural armour and hurting it, making it bleed.
Perhaps the dragon panicked, or grew impatient. Either way, it eventually changed tactics: it gave up on trying to hit Ash directly and, with more than a few of his arrows sticking out of it—as well as, Irileth noticed, a few steel ones from her and the guard's bows—it went instead after Irileth and the guard, easy targets, where they took cover in the watchtower, likely so it could feel like it was accomplishing something. The dragon landed for the last time and hobbled up to the watchtower to fill it with fire.
Irileth was unsure what happened after that, but whatever happened, the dragon didn't kill anyone else. It'd been taking aim at her and the guard, and they'd been running up the tower's wide winding staircase, but then it yelled a few normal words she didn't understand, presumably in the dragon language, instead of the magical ones it spit fire with, sounding oddly liquid—it said, "Dovahkiin, niid!"
Ash yelled something too. Irileth couldn't tell what he said, and even her best guess didn't make sense; it sounded like he'd said, "Falcon punch!"
Irileth saw why the dragon's voice sounded wet: Ash had torn a huge chunk of flesh about the size of an adult Breton off its huge, long neck, and bucketfuls of blood were pouring and spurting out of it, most of it raining onto the ground, but some hitting Ash, all of it steaming.
The dragon bled to death.
Ash told Irileth that what carved the chunk of flesh out of the dragon had been his fist. She didn't believe him. But she could tell he'd killed the dragon, whatever the means. She was more than a little bewildered. Until a few seconds ago she'd been certain she'd lose her life to the dragon in some horrible, painful, degrading and probably sexualized way, and not get to know Ash better, and worse, that the rest of Whiterun and Jarl Balgruuf might suffer the same fate as her and the guards.
Stunned and humbled at what she'd seen, Irileth had to hear it aloud and so asked Ash, "Did you just kill a dragon?"
Ash was taking a nice, long deep breath. He answered, "I killed a dragon."
"So it's dead, then?" Irileth asked.
"It's dead," Ash said.
The surviving guard whooped, and started celebrating and dancing.
It had been dark out since they left Dragonsreach. Irileth felt like their fight with the dragon had taken hours, like Magnus the sun should've risen by now, but it was still dark and surrounding Oblivion reigned. It was an especially dark night; Secunda wasn't out, and Masser was barely visible. Trails and patches of the dragon's fire were burning around the watchtower. There were four charred corpses in the area that she knew of, and one or two more depending on how many of the guards the dragon had eaten in its previous attack. There might also have been any number of civilians, and possibly work animals as well, from elsewhere—the dragon had seemingly wanted to kill everything other than itself. Where else had it been? But for all the death and burning present Irileth didn't smell burned hair or flesh, or anything else awful, which was a relief and quite a surprise when she noticed it. The night smelled nice, actually, distantly of flowers; wildflowers grew in the field all around them. There seemed to be more wildlife in the area now than before. The flickering firelight created striking, haunting imagery. Especially the fires on and closest to the watchtower, portions of which seemed to fade in and out of existence every few seconds from myriad light sources.
Something strange began happening to the dragon's corpse. Irileth said, "Everybody get back!"
Ash didn't move.
She'd never seen anything like it: Ash, with his back to her, stood tall, shoulders broad, as the dragon's corpse exploded in fire and started to rush away, outward, as pieces of scale and flesh beneath it began to flake off its corpse and float. Ash just watched, shoulders rising and falling, unmoving, breathing hard from all the acrobatics he'd been doing—running, dodging, somersaulting. The dragon's corpse was dissolving somehow; there was this coruscating, glowing light everywhere, and a bloom of magical fire, a nimbus, that flowed from the dragon and into . . . Ash, it took Irileth a moment to realize, bathing him in light that looked like fire. There were several streams of the fire or light or whatever it was: one to the left, one to the right and one that went up and arced down into Ash, as though whatever was moving from the dragon to him was so complicated it required multiple channels. From Irileth's perspective, Ash was thrown into sharp relief by it all, etched in light, a silhouette—a very manly, sculpted one that did something for Irileth's libido at a primal level. Ash had killed the dragon, with little help. Even for her the dragon-fighting business had been exciting.
Irileth noticed: Ash aroused her and she wanted to do something about it now. She'd been aroused since she realized the dragon was dead, before its flesh melted off, glad to be alive. She wanted to celebrate that glee with Ash. She was already wet just thinking about what the two of them might do. Something deep in her stomach was twisting and coiling and hot.
Ash had set his longbow down, taken his jerkin off and started using it to wipe blood off of himself. She couldn't see his chest directly because he wore an undershirt but his arms were very fit and his shoulders broad and wondrous. The dragon's blood had got all over him. He gave wiping it up as a bad job, then said something in a language Irileth couldn't understand and all the blood on him disappeared.
Once again Irileth noticed that Ash hadn't worn any armour, which was bizarre, at least in Skyrim where it seemed to her the majority of people wore armour. He should've put some on before mustering by the barracks with her, if only a hauberk or byrnie or boiled leather like hers.
Irileth thought, as the magical rushing lights flew into Ash, about how mere seconds ago she'd been certain she was soon to die. She thought about Ash and lingered on a thought—she cared about the man. They'd fought the dragon together, and survived; she felt bonded with him. She more than just cared. Watching him, she remembered how badly she wanted to have him, even if it was only once, and noticed how much she anticipated enjoying herself this night. All she knew was she had to have this dragonslayer. It wouldn't be a traditional Nordic or Dunmer courtship and marriage; she had to serve Jarl Balgruuf, and Ash wouldn't be settling down in Whiterun. A marriage would never work for them, even if they wanted it.
She watched him breathing rapidly, and the weapons on him shift with him, and watched his muscled arms and shoulders, and something in her snapped.
II. Intimacy
As the strange event of, Irileth believed, Ash's absorbing the dead dragon's soul subsided, she resolved herself to act and strode up to him boldly. He was putting away his weapons.
Adrenaline very much still coursing through Irileth, her arousal becoming stronger with each step, she reached Ash and put one of her hands across his back, feeling his shoulders under cloth. To his credit, he didn't flinch at her touch. Her arm bumped into arrows sticking up out of the quiver high on his back. He had a violent but elegant-looking strange foreign longsword in one hand. It looked like it could cut Nirn apart. She hadn't seen it from so close before, though she'd noticed three of them in his belt before, in Dragonsreach, each time she'd seen him; two long, one short; he hadn't unsheathed any of them until this fight with the dragon. Ash used both hands to sheathe the curved longsword with a flourish. She couldn't tell if he was showing off or it was some ritual. Probably a ritual. It was so smooth he must've done it hundreds of times before.
Irileth had left her bow behind in the watchtower and already sheathed her sword. She stood in front of him, unconsciously opening her lips, looking him up and down, and then into his eyes—she felt like he could already tell what she looked like naked, in the best way. She hoped she was right about how she thought he'd look naked.
She raised both of her hands, less steadily than she would've liked, and put them high on his chest, then slid them upward until she reached his face. Her arms trembled just a little on the way—likely from the overpowering arousal, or the adrenaline. She assumed he'd felt a storm of emotions like she had during the fight with the dragon, but he seemed an adventurer, or mercenary or soldier of some sort, and maybe in his recent history he'd become accustomed to fights to the death; maybe he wasn't so exhilarated and glad to be alive as she was. In all the battles she could remember she'd been afraid she'd die, though she'd never been certain about it before. She was nervous, and strangely unsure of herself.
Ash didn't stop Irileth, or look displeased; he went along with it. She pulled his face down and kissed him, in a way at first soft and innocent, then heated and passionate. She was aggressive. He reciprocated.
They kept kissing. She held his face in both her hands, and he put a hand in her hair and caressed her, and put his other hand on her hip, which made her groan with need, pushing her body against his and rolling her pelvis into him a little, testing the waters. He met her and rubbed back into her.
Irileth broke the kiss—they were getting ahead of themselves; she remembered that the one surviving guard was still there, possibly watching, presumably uncomfortable. Irileth wanted no one but Ash to watch her. She glanced to Ash—he didn't seem to care if anyone watched or didn't. Holding Ash even more firmly, Irileth put her arms around his neck and kept him close, resting her chin on his shoulder and pressing into him, and said to the guard sternly, "Head back to Whiterun. Report to the jarl."
It must've been obvious to the guard what Irileth meant to do with the dragonslayer, but at this point she didn't care who knew, she just wanted to experience it with Ash alone, and she couldn't wait—wouldn't go back to report, and meet with Ash hours later in her or his bedroom, even if the soft sheets of a bed would've been a better surface, and if a nice warm fire and some scented candles would've been more romantic; it had to be now, while she still felt like this. She also wanted to do it beneath the night's sky. It just felt right. Only seconds had gone by since the dragon had died, though she felt like an awful lot had happened in that time.
The guard said "Yes, húskarl," and jogged away.
Ash waited two seconds, listening to feet receding, then looked to Irileth, who was dragging a hand over his chest, and said, "Do you want to do this?"
The uncertainty Irileth had felt went away when she used her commander voice. She didn't know how Ash had affected her so much. It was strange. But she hadn't been with someone new in a long time. Anyway, she was in control now. She liked to be in control. "Yes, I do," she said, her voice heavy with lust.
They started kissing again. She pushed her tongue into his mouth. He seemed to like it. He pushed his tongue into her mouth. She liked it.
Ash was about to undo some of her armour when she said, "Ash?"
"Yes, Irileth?" he said, looking into her eyes, but keeping his hands on her body and his arms wrapped around her. It felt wonderful. One was on her back, and the other seemingly all over her ass. She liked that.
"I'm sorry I didn't help more in the fight," Irileth admitted. If they weren't alone she wouldn't have mentioned it, or even let on that she was embarrassed.
"You helped plenty," he said, "Most people only get in my way, but you helped. Your lightning bolts hurt the dragon, and made it act with caution. It was afraid. Perhaps you didn't notice that."
"I don't remember doing that," Irileth said.
Ash smiled. It was the first time she'd seen him smile.
Irileth laughed. She wasn't convinced, but what he said made her feel good.
Get on with it, she told herself. The feeling wouldn't last long. She'd gone so long without encountering a warrior with anywhere near her skill in combat that she didn't know how to handle it happening again. She'd regressed.
Irileth moved in closer, then kissed around Ash's lips, and felt his arms go around her back and warmth spread all over her, then she said bashfully, "I haven't done this in some time."
"That's fine," he said quietly but firmly, glad that he could tell her what she wanted to hear and the truth at the same time, meanwhile wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her closer.
Some pieces of Irileth's leather armour outfit were missing due to her fighting a dragon, such as one whole bracer, and much of what remained bore burns from several near misses. Her leathers always took a few minutes to don—minutes that often felt like an hour—and sometimes longer to doff, but Ash, this strong but gentle, agile and coordinated man, removed all her armour in what felt like just a few seconds, and there was no fumbling. Actually, it could have been any length of time, but it felt very quick; Irileth had lost much of her sense of time as soon as they started touching each other. Ash appeared to be enjoying himself, which Irileth liked. She'd take her pleasure whether he liked it or not, but it would be better if he liked it.
As Ash deftly undid her armour's fastenings, Irileth could tell that not only was Ash naturally good at this, which she liked, he was also experienced, which she liked more, to an extent that almost intimidated her. He really knew what he was doing, but no one was supposed to intimidate Irileth at anything. Yet there he was, removing the cuirass of her boiled leather, just happening to brush a hand possessively over one of her breasts. He didn't feel her hardened nipple, but he clearly liked what he felt. He had these intelligent dark green eyes, with delight in them. Seeing them looking back at her—wanting her—with an overlay of arousal was immensely thrilling. He hadn't even touched most of her fun places, yet, and she was already wet for him. She was being overcome by this lean, muscly man. Or maybe mer. He didn't look like any kind of mer she knew, but he didn't seem human either. The first or second time she'd seen him, he'd told her he wasn't from her world—she was starting to believe him.
Ash continually surprised Irileth. He was competent and confident to a degree that made her heart pound, and her breath rush, and her body rise in temperature. Maybe he was a proficient lover, as well; her last few hadn't been. A dull ache and pressure of need continued to spread through her. She felt it all over her body now.
He undid all the straps and buckles and belts and clasps keeping her armour on; he seemed to know well where they were, and stripped them all off her deftly. He was very deft. The way he worked, she could tell adrenaline was still running in him as it was in her; he pulled hard on some things he needn't, held her nearly as roughly as she wanted him to, and he seemed like he'd rather be ripping and tearing her armour and clothing off than removing it nicely.
She wanted to know what he'd do with her, so she let him lead for now.
Ash moved his hips back to reach her swordbelt, undid it and tossed it aside.
He found the leather strip tying some of her hair back behind her head, undid that too and spread her hair out, put one of his hands in it and kissed her.
He broke that kiss too soon and intensified their coupling: He tossed away her boiled leather cuirass and moved about as close to her as he could get and pulled her against him, which she'd been waiting for. She gasped at feeling him all over her front without her armour between them.
He kissed her again.
The kiss was outstanding and seemed to last a long time, but again, it might've only been seconds. All she knew was that somehow Ash dragging his tongue along hers made her moan. The way their bodies touched helped; When he adjusted his head to change his angle in the kiss, his chest dragged against her, and she felt him all over. That itself was enough, but not all: She felt that movement and friction most intensely against her nipples, which seemed deliberate on his part.
Irileth broke the kiss, put her hands on Ash's arms and back and stroked a little and said, "Dance with me."
Smiling because he liked it, though he also found it somewhat tawdry, Ash went with it, because somehow this felt like what he should be doing right now, and because he wanted her.
They truly dance, though their bodies did have a beautiful synchronicity.
Irileth's face was aflame with heat from her passion as she said, between soft but impassioned kisses that were escalating quickly, "I want you." Her voice was thick with desire. Ash heard it, and saw the look on her face and in her eyes.
He felt his loins and heart throb and sighed and kissed her again, briefly, then said "I want you too," his voice similarly amorous—Irileth groaned deep in her throat, and leaned into him—as he used one arm to pull her close at the waist and the other arm's hand on her face while he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him, one low on his back and one behind his neck.
"Be rough," Irileth said.
"Okay," Ash said. "Tell me if I'm too rough, or not rough enough."
"I will," she said.
Their groins dragged against one another, grinding. Irileth's need was becoming painful. That and the way he held her face, and body in general, seemed to make her deeply feel the kiss, their lips and their tongues, his mouth open and his tongue softly but firmly sliding along her lips, and between them. One of Ash's fingers softly stroked along one of Irileth's long elven ears; surprised and taken aback by that, she shuddered and moaned quietly, a sudden escape of air.
Ash felt intense heat radiating from between her legs. He put one of his thighs at the apex of her legs and dragged it slowly against her. She moaned again, more deeply.
He did it just right. She wanted to silence herself and keep him guessing and not knowing how thrillingly erotic his kissing and all this touching, even over their clothing, was to her, but he pulled such noises and acknowledgment from her with ease. And deep down she wanted him to know: How turned on she was had something to do with how much she liked him. He liked her back.
Kissing her and groping her all the while, he finished removing all of her body armour except the boots.
Ash got very close to her body again, and Irileth could feel him all over her again. This time she also got a smell of him that nearly undid her. She stopped herself from clumsily describing one of the many things she wanted to get out of this, something about "have all your children."
With her armour off, Irileth was all but unclothed, wearing only a spotty potato-colored awful linen loincloth and breastcloth, so she was able to feel and enjoy Ash quite well, him and his body's wealth of muscles, even through his clothes, as on his chest and flat, hard stomach and thick, strong arms. She could feel his warmth, too. Through his clothes. She wondered how he still had clothing on; She needed to change that.
Ash held Irileth and laid her down on the grassy ground. She hardly felt it for their arousal. She couldn't bear to wait to see what he'd do next.
He moved close.
Ash grabbed under Irileth's shoulders and sat her up. Puzzled, she said, "What is it? Do you want me to . . . ?"
Arousal thickening his voice, he said tersely, "I want your tits out." Any other time, with probably any other man, Irileth would've been put off by it, though somehow when Ash, who'd proven himself in combat, said it, the words were erotic and exciting. She was so pleased she made an "mmm" noise without noticing, her mind buzzing and clouded and impossibly aroused.
Irileth's breastcloth wound around her a few times and tied. She raised her arms without hesitation, forgetting that she'd smell like sweat and glad she'd shaved her armpits, looking excited and more eager than she wanted to.
She smiled, anticipating what they'd do to each other. Ash smiled too. That reinforced her, made her more comfortable with him. She felt a kinship with this man, an easy trust; they understood one another. She'd been waiting for a man like this. He'd never said he was a warrior, but he had a disposition like hers. They felt right together.
Irileth went to untie her breastcloth, but Ash was already there and undid it and unraveled it, with expedience, almost as fast as she would have if she rushed. She really liked that; he was good enough to compete with her. She normally utterly dominated the men she bedded. But Irileth felt like he was even with her, or nearly so. She felt need in his hands. She loved that, and it aroused her further. It was a wonderful feeling. He might've had more experience than her, but men, human or otherwise, needed more experience; they were terrible without it.
Ash flung her breast cloth near where he'd thrown her armour.
Irileth had wonderful tits. Maybe below average in size but wonderful, perky. Ash wanted to work his way down to them immediately so, to deny himself instant gratification, he didn't focus all his attention on them at once, though her nipples were hard and her tits were so nice he had to acknowledge them somehow—he couldn't pull them out and then neglect them. So he took both of them in his hands, leaned in and kissed each one and briefly sucked on each nipple—Irileth moaned openly—and pulled his lips off of them with a twist of his head and—a gamble—a hint of teeth. One nipple came out quietly, but the second made a wet smack, which somehow egged both of them on. He looked up to look into her eyes, and saw a very aroused woman with her head rolled back. Irileth gave him plenty of feedback throughout, though the moans and the way she leaned into him were the most thrilling. The sensation of his mouth on her nipple was immense and unbelievable. Hearing and feeling how she reacted to it, he hummed enjoyment. He felt his cock swell. While he worked briefly on the first nipple she thought about telling him to bite them but then thought no, he wouldn't want to do that, too rough too soon, and then she felt this hint of teeth as he decoupled. When she felt that, she moaned loudly. He'd been ready for a firm no, but he'd been not at all ready for such a quick or positive response. It also hurt his ears, in the best way; he throbbed, and without even noticing it, absentmindedly reached between their legs to squeeze his cock to relieve pressure. He was aching to fuck her, but he wasn't certain how she wanted it yet, apart from rough. Then he sucked her other nipple and brushed his teeth against it as he released it and she moaned loudly again.
Irileth felt him go to touch himself. It would've been enough to know she was turning him on that much, but the heel of his hand ran perfectly against where the outer lips of her pussy met. She clung to him, moaned and shuddered. His hand had reached Irileth first, on its way to his cock, only by coincidence, but he liked how she responded to that so much he forgot to touch himself. He'd been looking down, about to kiss her neck, and had the good fortune of seeing her tits jiggle from her motion. He felt himself throb again, and this time stroked himself through his pants, but made sure the back of his hand stroked Irileth's pussy again. That time they moaned together.
Ash shifted his actions abruptly. He held her face in both hands and kissed her. With more kissing, Irileth noticed that his breath smelled good, and his mouth tasted good as well. That was uncommon but welcome.
The pressure Irileth felt to either fuck Ash or get fucked by him was becoming too much. When he suddenly stopped brushing up against her pussy, she thrust her hips toward him expecting to meet his hand again and hit nothing. She needed to feel stimulation on her pussy so badly she couldn't stop herself from reaching one of her own hands down and doing it herself.
Ash tangled tongues with Irileth deliciously for a moment, then pulled back when he felt her rubbing herself between her legs. Inspired, he moved downward, leaving a trail on her with his lips and mouth and arms.
Irileth got a smell of his body again, and this time noticed it consciously. There was smoke and coppery dragon blood, but his own smell was good, and clean. She didn't smell sweat. Irileth wasn't used to a clean man, but she liked it. Appreciated it, certainly. He bathed frequently, which was also uncommon in Skyrim. Really smelling him seemed to arouse her more, viscerally.
He kissed around her face: beside an eye, on her flushed cheek, and on her left temple, but then she grabbed his head and pushed him down.
As he complied, on a whim he stopped at one of her weak spots, her neck. As he began kissing there his hands began touching her tits, at first holding them both possessively and then touching and rubbing and twisting her nipples, driving her mad. She mostly sighed and breathed hard and whimpered, but when he kissed certain spots of her neck, or touched her nipples, she moaned. "Ash," she whispered pleadingly. She felt one of his legs between hers. She wasn't sure if it had been there before. She lowered herself to straddle it firmly and started writhing against it, rubbing herself on him. "Fuck me," she whispered.
He kissed all over her neck and at one time held her softly but firmly by the nape of her neck—he could've put his cock in her right then. She moaned loudly, surprised he touched her in one of her extra-special spots but loving it. At the front of her neck he kissed and licked just a little and nipped tenderly a few times, then moved down past her neck, but she'd get him to come back to her neck soon and be rougher or she'd be damned. She wanted minutes more of that.
He applied his mouth to her tits, as well as his hands and especially fingers, often looking up at her to see how she was liking it. Unfortunately, he moved to do it, so she could no longer drag herself over his thigh. She whimpered at the loss, though he made up for it. He kissed her tits and made her brain buzz with small careful licks, and small spots of sucking around and tantalizingly close to her nipples, which he touched but momentarily didn't use his mouth on. In a surprise move, as his fingers rubbed and his hands squeezed both tits, he moved his mouth from one of her tits straight to her other tit's nipple and licked around the edge, then kissed it, then moved back to her other nipple, and put his mouth on the areola around it and sucked on the nipple and Irileth, surprised, let out this long moan so loud it was almost a yell, her breathing uneven and her mind swimming in ecstasy.
Ash outdid himself; she thought he hadn't been paying attention or was ignoring some of her direction, but he'd been paying close attention. He knew what she wanted. He was warming her up, teasing. As he moved to her other nipple to suck and lick and caress it, he brought one hand down between her legs and stroked her there. He knew she wanted it and more. He didn't touch her pussy directly. But that he went to the area at all made Irileth shiver and moan again, just as loudly as she had a second before when he first sucked on one of her nipples.
He must've felt how wet she was, but he didn't take it as a cue to remove her loincloth and shove his cock in her. Or if he did he held back. Her moans seemed to spur him on. Irileth felt his cock, hard as iron, brush against her leg and gasped, then hummed, pleased and thrilled with his evident arousal. It made everything more real feeling his response. Somehow she was much more sensitive to simple things such as that than normal. She moaned again, feeling his fingers come up against the outer lips of her pussy, circling and caressing around them, as he also sucked and then nibbled on one of her nipples. She needed him to do it rougher, though. She tried to grab his cock, but she couldn't get through all the limbs in the way.
One of his hands lingered at the level of her tits as his face and lips moved further down. Her erratic breathing hitched; it sounded as if she had to struggle to breathe. He liked that. He just happened to look up into her eyes and felt his own arousal intensify at the sight of her looking down at him, very aroused, as her chest heaved and moved her proud tits up and down rapidly, and as one of her own hands went to the tit he wasn't touching then started squeezing and rubbing the nipple. He was turning her on too much; she touched herself to ease the pressure. Ash moved slowly down her belly, catching one of her nipples between his fingers, more closely encircling her pussy with his other hand, and with his mouth kissing and nibbling and sometimes licking. He went over her belly button, on his way down and down, closer to her pussy, kissing lightly sometimes and firmly other times, sometimes with his lips closed and sometimes open and sometimes lingering or even sucking, bringing sweet pressure to her skin.
She was taking these quick panting breaths as one of his hands smoothed over her tight, flat belly—something she was very proud of maintaining; she had to work at it daily—which frequently undulated with her breaths, and his lips crossed below the line of her waist, closing in on the spot where she wanted him most. He split two of his fingers apart and grazed directly over her pussy's outer lips, still over her loincloth. She couldn't imagine why he hadn't taken that off her yet; he could've undid it nicely or ripped it apart by now for all she cared. There was a wet spot on the front. His attention went low on her body; higher, his hand was mostly just holding her tit possessively—which though it wasn't very active she found very erotic—and squeezing rhythmically and sometimes rubbing her nipple or rolling it between two fingers. She put a hand over his and trained him to do it harder. Her own hand did more to ease the pressure she felt building, but what he did still felt much better, excited her more. His holding her tits, one or both of them, was what thrilled her, the way he did it more than what he specifically did. Just squeezing it was enough. When she trained him to do it harder, a simple squeeze was more than enough.
He moved further down and dragged his lips over her pussy, her loincloth still maddeningly separating him from her flesh. She shuddered violently. He'd finally just really touched her. She'd never had to wait so long. It had only been a few minutes, but it felt like an incredibly long time, possibly because adrenaline was still coursing through her. The fight with the dragon had gone by so fast, she realized, that she still felt the rush of battle. Ash licked directly over her pussy without warning. She bucked. She felt stimulation and heat. It almost hurt.
Ash leaned up. She hadn't even noticed their positioning shifting. She was on her back, and he was between her legs. He left a hand by her tits, holding one. With his other hand he pulled her loincloth's tie-strings apart. Her breathing became even more uneven. She was dangerously close to an orgasm, she noticed, not quite consciously, surprised. That didn't happen much. It was because she was so much more aroused than normal, in her body and mind. Ash released her tit and lifted her off the ground by her ass with that hand, and with the other got her loincloth clear of her. He set her back down tenderly, then tossed the wet loincloth by her armour and knelt back down to get at her. His head went between her legs. He looked into her eyes, arranging himself and smiling. Irileth looked back at him, delighted, and glad she hadn't clamped her thighs to either side of his head yet.
Ash wasn't quite sure if she'd like to hear it, in a general or a dirty talk way, but he felt he had to say something: As he moved his mouth between Irileth's legs he said, "Your pussy is wonderful." It was engorged and wet and ready and he badly wanted to just wreck it with his cock. Irileth didn't say anything in response, only looked back into his eyes and moaned openly, her breathing hard and ragged. He'd been sliding one hand over her thigh and still possessively gripping one of her tits with the other. She wasn't used to so much stimulus, but was becoming quite fond of it. When he got these possessive urges and acted on them, she consistently liked what he did. He was trying to keep telling her he wanted her and found her attractive, and wanted to please her, with his body more than words. But he wanted her to be very ready and very wet before he fucked her.
"Do you like talking during sex?" Ash asked in a short break, between kissing and licking lightly, sucking some of one of her outer pussy lips into his mouth. He was about to lose himself in her; best to ask now.
"Talking . . . dirty?" Irileth asked with difficulty; she was having trouble thinking with everything he was doing to her, and the rush and passion of it all. She felt like she was ascending to a higher level of being.
Hearing her speak like that was just short of strange. She sounded so different, and not just out of breath; it was like he was finally hearing her real voice, rather than the one her public face and gruff affectation had.
"Yes," he said, "Like, 'I want to taste your pussy.'" He wet a finger, with liquid that had leaked outside of her sopping pussy, and dragged it along the outer and then inner lips of her womanhood. It was very much engorged, so he didn't need to pull it open, though he did that too.
"Mmmm," Irileth replied, meaning yes and that she was desperate for more, like he was, and also trying to say by tone alone, "How dare you ask me a question when you're doing this to me!"
He dragged a wet finger lightly closely around her clitoris. She spasmed and yelped, surprised. He smiled.
Watching him—when she could keep her eyes open and un-rolled up into her head, and keep her head un-rolled back—lap her up, Irileth panicked for about three seconds as she remembered that she was self-conscious about how she tasted. But Ash seemed to relish her.
She wanted to tell him this was enough foreplay, she was plenty wet and ready, that she wanted her prize now and for him to take her in his thickly corded, lean and muscly arms and ravish her, but she kept damnably remembering that, well, she could stand to endure such attention a little longer. She couldn't imagine when she'd get it again. And she wanted to remember it. Normally she did all the work; she enjoyed that he was willing to work too. But she was already so turned on and wet for him that she wanted to come alive all at once, and swoop in and force him to penetrate her, and take from him what she wanted, as a dragon might.
At the thought of dragons a cold creep went down her spine, and she felt terribly mortal again suddenly, and she pulled Ash's head back up to hers and kissed him and wrapped herself around him, arms and legs, clinging to him and needing more. She felt his erect cock against one of her thighs. They both groaned, briefly grinding together. Irileth wasn't sure she'd ever felt her heart beat so fast outside of combat.
She was possessed by need, and seemed to float outside of her body for a moment, her resistance rejuvenated. She made him stand back up and took all of his gear and clothes off, as quickly as she could manage—he let her and helped—to make them equal. She swooned when his cock popped out of his pants. He wore no loincloth of any kind. She largely ignored things he did to distract her, and try to get back to his incredibly erotic but slow exploration of her body, despite whatever noises he made her make and how good he made her feel now that she had the strength to enforce her will. Not that he was doing anything wrong. She just wanted to lead.
He didn't wear armour, she noticed again, again puzzled by it. He fought with swords yet wore no mail, no leather.
Once Ash was naked too Irileth dragged him back down with her.
She dimly noticed a few scars on him, on his chest and legs and arms and back. She wondered how old he was; he might've been 30, or 700. It was hard to tell with mer. Judging by how good he was at fighting and spellcasting, he would've had to be in his hundreds. His skill was beyond what humans could achieve in a lifetime; It took a very long time to get that good at fighting or spellcasting, especially spellcasting, and elves learned slower than the more vulgar species. Irileth wondered why he didn't have dozens of scars, then remembered magical healing prevented them. So she wondered why he kept any. Maybe he hadn't had a choice. She loved his scars, ugly but prestigious keepsakes of past fights and battles. She wanted to feel and lick them all. He also had a few tattoos, some simple and some intricate, one a snake eating its own tail and one a spear and one some design she didn't recognize, but she knew not what any of them meant.
Briskly, Ash took back over and went down on Irileth. She let him because, unlike normal, he didn't waste time being subtle. He used his mouth and tongue and lips on her clit, and his fingers on her pussy, and then in it. He began pushing a finger in and pulling it out and then pushed two fingers in, then sucked on Irileth's clit at the same time and she said, "Just like that! Just like that!" and came, watching him and holding him by the hair to keep him against her, then closing her eyes and just enjoying it, spasming and bucking wildly, yelling, her breath so uneven he thought she might not be getting any air in.
The time went by incredibly quickly. Irileth's first orgasm was so good she had to collect herself for a while afterward—she couldn't remember the last time she'd come like that. Her mind caught up with her. She pushed his hand away brusquely, making him feel a little rejected, because her clit was about to hurt, and then it hit her: He refused to progress further in their adrenaline-infused lovemaking until he got her to come. She was angry, in a fun competitive way, but even now that his strategy was revealed he still won somehow; giving her the one orgasm only spurred her on for more. Or really, they both won, and it wasn't a competition. All this and he still hadn't put his manhood in her. Usually if she had an orgasm during sex with a man it wasn't until after they'd had their cock in her for a while.
She reflected briefly on Ash before punishing him for not already being fucking her, for . . . however long, it might've only been a few minutes. Or seconds. An awfully long time not to be fucking her, anyway. But she never got bored. Ash was always doing something different, except for briefly when she was about to come and she told him to keep doing the same thing. He listened, and he followed orders well.
Irileth smacked Ash's cock. Not hard, but it clearly surprised him. "Ow," he said.
"That's for not yet fucking me," she said. "You should be."
Then interminably later, recovering, reflecting on her orgasm and looking shocked and almost scandalized, Irileth between quick uneven breaths asked matter-of-factly, "Do you worship Dibella?"
Flattered and smiling and riding out her orgasm with her, Ash said, "No." His smile stimulated Irileth on its own. Light from the fires around glinted on liquid on his face, mostly around his mouth—her liquid, she realized. She moaned suddenly. This was all really happening. He held her down with an arm low on her belly. "It's not Dibellan arts," he said. "I'm . . . experienced." He pushed his hands under her thighs to momentarily use only his mouth on her and move her legs apart.
"Yes you are," Irileth purred, watching him, putting her hand on the back of his head and her fingers into his hair, and caressing and directing him, then rocking backward and arching her back, and moaning gleefully with a big smile on her face that no one saw. I get to enjoy this! she thought. Without meaning to, she said aloud, "That's good!" and moaned and then said, "That's good!" again.
A few seconds later she said, "Sheathe it in me," begging and pleading and writhing, but he didn't do it immediately so she said, "Sheathe it in me . . . " again. Ash knew exactly what she wanted and deliberately wasn't giving it to her.
Ash partly obliged by getting his hips close to her, moving to where he could comfortably drive his cock into her, and then promptly used his hand to drag his cock over her pussy, around the outer lips, and over the slit of her inner lips, and over and around her clit. Then, worse, he pushed her inner lips open with the head of his cock—going in just a little, threatening to plunge in further and even doing it but never pushing in past the head. For the first few seconds Irileth could only let her head roll back and moan, and arch her back and try to level and align her pussy with his cock and hips, but he rubbed and grazed and teased her long enough that she had to look down and see why he hadn't shoved in already. When she looked she only became more excited. He had a lovely cock, perfectly shaped and colored and harder than her longsword. Each additional stroke of it against her made her groan and her stomach do these flips, almost in pain with intense unfulfilled arousal.
"Ash, fuck me!" she said forcefully. She couldn't take it anymore; the words just came out. She began plotting to invent some magic spell that would let her shoot ropes out of her pussy and ensnare him and his cock and make him take the plunge he kept threatening, and then she could fuck him to death or something.
III. Impello
"Fuck me hard," Irileth said, pleading, sounding like she might cry from enjoyment.
He looked up to her and she knew he was finally going to give it to her.
He teased a little by rubbing his cock over her pussy lips and her clit, which made her moan and squirm and try to make him push it in. And then he finally did it. She found herself squeezing down on him erratically, her muscles out of control. She gasped before his cock was even all the way in her. Then when it was she gasped again, in a sort of paralyzed ecstasy.
But it was a ruse: he hadn't pushed in all the way. He'd just stopped at a certain point. She knew before she looked because his hips, pelvis and legs hadn't come up against her. He dragged his cock mostly out of her, then forced his way back in, more than before but still not to the hilt. Irileth started to panic a little. She wanted to come right then but this agonizing teasing, and stretching her out, and slow soft entry was not going to get her there. She still loved it. For a moment she wondered if the dragon had killed her and this was only a really good but a little frustrating tease-anticipation-cute-raunchy kind of afterlife. Maybe this was what every Dunmer woman got—Ash, out in some field of flowers. Or maybe it was a special killed-by-dragon-only afterlife.
Then, in a way she was thankful for, Ash finally pushed his cock into her pussy all the way, finally hilted in her, and a yell or maybe scream came out of her mouth, but she was so enraptured by Ash she had no awareness of making such a noise. He put a hand over her mouth, then started to pull his cock out, which for whatever reason made Irileth scream again—muffled this time—and wish that she could control her body enough to kiss his hand and say "thank you" repeatedly.
Irileth kept closing her eyes at first. Later she kept them open, sometimes to watch Ash pushing his cock inside of her, but mostly to look into his eyes, which were open and often looking back at her. She found looking into Ash's eyes while he fucked her astoundingly arousing.
His other hand gathered some of the wetness between her legs and went to her clit and attentively started rubbing on and around it, and rolling and caressing, as he removed his hand from her mouth, maybe wanting to hear her, because she stopped screaming and was making just about every other kind of noise. He used that freed hand to hold himself up. Then he started to withdraw his cock from her pussy, and he was free again for a second, then she started making this high-pitched squealing noise. She needed to get fucked, not be teased. Ash didn't free up either of his hands to cover her mouth this time; both of them were quite busy. He gave her a look, apart from enjoying the sight of her body, like "Stop making that high-pitched squealing noise," not annoyed but maybe self-conscious. "Sorry," Irileth said aloud, before making the squealing noise again, exasperated but feeling better and more fulfilled than she thought possible, still high on adrenaline and what he was doing to her, breathing unevenly, feeling none of life's unpleasant aspects, and as if she was floating a few feet above the ground. She knew she could feel grass and the dirt of the ground on her back and legs, but she was only dimly aware of it. She'd never been so aroused during sex, or so wet. She looked down at his cock and saw its shaft glistening in the firelight.
Ash surrendered some of his conservation strategy and without warning sped up his thrusts into and out of her. Loving it, Irileth experienced a sensory overload. She didn't even know she'd wanted that. He was sliding back and pulling his cock almost all the way out, then sliding it back into Irileth just a little faster than before.
After a few seconds Ash thought better of their position and used both his hands to fold Irileth's legs up against her like a deck chair, then rest them on either of his shoulders, one on either side of his head. He finished situating her in a few seconds more and resumed pushing his cock in and out of her, thrust and pull and thrust and pull and thrust. She moved her legs inward more, until they were right against him.
His pace was a little slow but each thrust was solid and strong and excellent. Thinking between loud moans, and panting and writhing and holding onto Ash, Irileth tried to take account of his speed, and became certain that he was taking his time but working up to fucking her harder and faster, which she really wanted to feel, like now. Pretty much all the men she'd been with had been content to stick their cocks in her and start going fast or hard, one of the two, a style or lack thereof which Irileth just now realized she didn't like. She often wanted to get or give it more than one way in the same night.
Ash shifted, and started rubbing her clit while he fucked her. He slid a finger around her pussy lips to gather some of the fluid of hers saturating the area, the whole front of her pelvis as well as his—she was soaking wet, dripping and hot and pulsing and swollen and exposed. One of her arms went around his hip to hold his ass, which was the first time she'd touched it despite frequently checking it out. She was delighted to touch and squeeze it, and knead his firm flesh in her fingers.
For ages, Irileth had been aching for him to fuck her hard. She didn't know what changed his mind, but something did, eventually. She was rolling her hips up to meet him, her eyes wide and breathing hard, mouth open. Then she could tell he was about to change tactics. So she told him to fuck her hard again. She watched Ash line up, and use his hand to aim his cock for a straight shot, but she was still surprised and shocked when he finally entered her with real force, all at once. Though as he pushed in, hard and fast, she squeezed him without even meaning to, and suddenly became so tight he had difficulty getting in. She threw off his measured, deliberate pace, and made it uneven and jerky, starting and stopping a little, making this first hard insertion even better for her, and making her even louder in her moans and sighs and whispered names, and curses too when he hit certain spots.
Ash heard her moaning "My jarl" once, and decided to let himself forget it, and just keep holding her and fucking her. He wanted to please her thoroughly, then if she needed it they could take a break, and then they could work on each other actively, taking turns.
Irileth didn't entirely seem to know what she was saying; senselessness uttered in the middle of things. She felt him pull back out slowly and yearned for him to fill her again. Her legs were so wobbly, and her knees weak like jelly, that Irileth couldn't hold his head between her calves and make him angle just a little differently like she dearly wanted to. She couldn't really control her body, for the moment. She was writhing and squirming so much he had to use both of his hands on her hips to hold her down, giving up her clit though he didn't want to. Seemingly acting on their own, her hands went to her rigid nipples and started rubbing and tweaking and pulling and rolling and sometimes just squeezing, which Ash enjoyed the sight of, and then one of her hands went to her clit and started rubbing it feverishly. Ash massaged her inner walls with his cock as he fucked her, building up speed and power.
Irileth came again.
Occasionally as Ash fucked her, he hit a special spot that made her pleasure extra-intense. She got louder on those occasions. No as loud as during orgasm, but loud. Something about being outside at night and on the grass liberated her, enabled her to moan and gasp and make noise, as Ash pleased her, with abandon she couldn't allow herself when she brought someone into her cell in Dragonsreach.
Once Irileth cooled down from coming again, Ash started to fuck her just a little harder and faster, and her arms went to his back, and scratched, then to his ass, which she was fond of. She wanted to mount it and put it up on a wall and admire it with wine. At some point Irileth had one hand on each of his ass cheeks and she was pulling him into her as hard and deep as she could get.
Ash moved his hands to the tops of her shoulders to hold her down and fuck her harder. He also moved up so he could come down on her and rub her clit with his pelvis.
After pumping her a few times like that, not grinding her clit every time, Ash balanced himself and moved one of his hands and put it in her hair and pulled on it, making her arch her back, which was wonderful, and meet his thrusts when her body tried to bounce back from them. He enjoyed watching her tits lurch back and forth.
Ash put his other hand back to her shoulder to hold her steady, then leaned smoothly down to Irileth's face and kissed her, and kept fucking her throughout, which might've been the best thing ever. In the kiss he opened his mouth, and hers opened along with his. He slid his tongue into her mouth and rubbed and tangled with her tongue wonderfully. They had to break apart often because of how hard he was fucking her, but then they'd resume kissing. He groaned quietly, as she kissed him back, which she enjoyed so much it made her spasm a little, bowing her back more and pushing her pelvis into him. Ash broke off kissing her once as she was really getting into it, then kissed her a few more times and bit her lip as she panted and moaned into his mouth, and writhed beneath him, and pushed back to assure that his cock kept going into her deeply, and stroked against her and awoke more feeling deep inside of her. She tried to make him stop pulling back out and have his cock just stay in her and failed, but got him to linger, which felt much better than she'd expected. Once, instead of going softly, Ash shoved his cock back in her hard without preamble and Irileth almost howled, overwhelmed. Then she noticed, and exclaimed desperately: "I'm gonna come again! Don't stop fucking me!"
It thrilled him so much he wanted to cum too, ideally with her. But he hadn't, couldn't, let himself go that much—this wasn't only for him. There'd be time for him to come later. He was able to hold himself off, but he didn't relent on her. He intermixed pushing back into her hard occasionally with slower softer thrusts, keeping it just about random which kind of thrust she'd get, but not going long between hard thrusts.
"Oh fuck!" Irileth just about shouted, hurting Ash's ears in a good way. He adored her swearing. It sounded so raw. He wanted to put a hand over her mouth. Then he realized that she liked to talk dirty as she said "Fuck!" again and it spurred him on. "Harder," she said desperately, like she needed it and might cry and beg if he didn't give her what she wanted. Then less than a second later she added, "Fuck me harder!" and used her arms, pulling him in as hard as she could with each of his thrusts, with her hands on his ass and her legs crossed behind his back to get the message across. The simple feeling of her legs around him, surrounding him, and the intense heat of her pussy against his crotch, was making him delirious. But then she crossed her legs behind him and made it even better. Like she wouldn't let him go.
Irileth started moaning and groaning and occasionally gasping, just feeling really good and adored and fucked proper. She moaned for several seconds, then took a ragged deep breath, then moaned some more, her nipples burning as Ash's thrusts drove her upward and back, then her tits jerked in echo, which Ash enjoyed seeing, and their skin slapped wetly together from each strong push of his hips. Ash paid attention, and enjoyed her enjoying herself, and kept fucking her.
"Fuck me harder!" she said again.
He wanted, in some small part of his mind, to defy her, but didn't. He thrust into her hard once. She yelled, saying "Yes!" triumphantly. He deliberately pushed into her more slowly on the next stroke. "No!" she said that time. She used all of her strength—which was enough—to try and make the softer thrust hard and fast instead, while he still had enough cock left for the stroke's speed to change. Ash resisted playfully but she was too close to orgasm to get it, and thought he'd just got "hard" wrong somehow. But then she pulled him in, using her arms and legs, and he resisted for an instant, then gave in with interest and slammed into her even harder than she'd hoped for. She yelped and bucked into him while his cock was still buried in her. He waited a moment before pulling out again.
He was much stronger than Irileth, which she seemed not aware of. She was used to being at least as strong as the occasional man in her bed. That Ash was a good deal stronger, and that she couldn't force him, made her head buzz with a sort of danger she was surprised to like. That if he felt like it, Ash could do whatever he wanted to her. Though he wouldn't. She realized subconsciously that she trusted Ash despite not knowing him well. The safe loss of control was such a strange heady aphrodisiac that Irileth's long orgasm began right then, sudden and hard and violent, which was fitting. She could tell it was going to last a while, so after one more not-hard push, when Ash finally thrust hard again, she choked out the words, "Just like that!" really fast—to encourage him—and then some inarticulate noises and her very uneven breathing, quick gasps, then "I'm coming!" which Ash was proud of, then he thought now was a good time to do just what she said she wanted and he kept fucking her hard, or whatever else she told him, and rode out her orgasm with her. It took a while, and she gave him no further instruction after "Just like that!" She kept saying words, but they were so inarticulate they came out only as noises, except for one issue of "My pussy!" which made Ash want to come. He wasn't close, though.
Ash balanced himself precariously, to keep fucking her hard if need be and so he could touch her with one of his hands. He held one of her tits. He kept fucking her, just a little less hard because he knew it would start to hurt her too much if he kept going as hard, and licked two of his fingers and began rubbing her clit. Her hands were on his back, sometimes, and other times one was on her own tits rubbing her nipples or just holding and generally squeezing one of them.
She didn't know it yet, but she was spent. She'd run out of adrenaline, the threat had long passed, and he'd chosen sex positions poorly; maybe she could've kept going, or would've wanted to, if she'd been in a more active female-on-top role. And Ash was never going to get off. His own fault. Softer now, he kept thrusting into Irileth, and rolling back out and pushing back in, but he was nowhere near orgasm. It was only for her. If he did cum tonight, it would take quite a while to get there, assuming Irileth would help, and she didn't now look capable of helping. Ash felt disappointment suddenly. He was so used to adrenaline wearing off that he mostly skipped the comedown. His cock stayed hard, though. It took a while to get the message.
Panting hard, immobile, and with Ash's cock still in her, Irileth struggled out, "You're a fuckin' dragonborn," then panted even harder to make up for it. She said, "I think you're a fuckin' dragonborn." Her chest heaved. Ash tried not to stare at her tits. Occasionally her pussy still gripped him, which served to keep him hard.
While Ash wondered if she'd notice, she said, "Did you come?"
Working to keep disappointment out of his tone, Ash said, "No." His cock stayed rigid as he pulled all the way out of her body. That would've looked sad. Just thinking about it made him feel like crying. It felt like his cock was going to stay hard for hours. He looked at her pussy. If he didn't know how he felt, he would've thought this bout of intercourse thoroughly satisfying; her pussy looked ravaged. Well, semi-ravaged; Ash had had plans. He wasn't done, but he could tell that Irileth was. He'd thought she would last a few more orgasms—ones he'd been very ready and able to give her. He'd had several more sex positions in mind, first her on top whatever way she wanted, and then maybe doggy style, then one he called face-down ass-up, during or after which he'd hoped he might reach orgasm. His first of the night, anyway. That was sort of his bare minimum; he should've told her his expectations before they began. Had they done that he would've been happy to let her fatigue catch up with her, and if he hadn't peaked too by then she could help tiredly suck him off or tell him to finish himself off and spurt on her tits, or something else fun. But no. Feeling a little dejected, Ash suddenly remembered that he was really, really, ridiculously good-looking and Irileth wasn't the only female in Tamriel. and he had a lot of friends. He'd stay here with Irileth for a while, if she wanted, then take a slow walk to Whiterun, maybe making his first destination the Bannered Mare, though he might encounter someone on the way there.
Ash sighed and started gathering his clothes. Irileth was still lying on her back with her legs apart and panting, sweat glistening on her face, not ready or maybe not able to get dressed yet. Ash's cock had started softening by the time he put his trousers back on. That was good because it was really awkward, and sometimes illegal, to walk around with it erect. Dammit, Irileth, Ash thought, but in jest; she was fine. She hadn't done anything wrong. She said she hadn't done it in a while; he'd overestimated her stamina and endurance. Not her fault. He'd wanted more for both of them.
"Come here, then," Irileth said, sitting up. Not even the sight of perspiration making her glimmer all over, or her toned, lean hard warrior's body, and lovely abs, and waist and hips and slate skin and exposed vulva and breasts could get Ash back in the mood. Irileth smiled deviously and said, "I'll suck you off if you desire," still panting to recover but not so much now. He watched her belly rapidly expand and contract. She shook her breasts at him, which was lovely and should've been arousing, and sort of brandished her lips at him, flicking her tongue and making a pumping-on-his-shaft gesture with one hand. She sounded like she would enjoy doing what she offered, though that might've been a lie to try to make it better for him, or just go by quicker, but she was sapped, and he didn't want to do it anymore, or for her to do something to him as a favor.
"Nah, you'd choke on it," Ash joked. She laughed like she had been legitimately concerned that would happen and had still wanted to find out.
Ash put his undershirt and jerkin back on. He looked to Irileth as she was about to say something, and the look in his eyes told her everything. It took Ash a second to catch up.
"I'm . . . sorry," Irileth said. It came out uncomfortably, like she'd never said the words before.
"A húskarl should have more stamina," Ash said, smiling and clearly joking. She laughed. Then he shook his head. "No, it's fine. I simply feel weird."
She was surprised, he could tell by her expression; defensive and indignant, but then she got the joke and laughed, but still looked embarrassed. Ash was a little too correct, even joking.
"We can . . . " Irileth began. "Some other time? Again?"
Ash thought, and his expression might've reflected some of his thought of That'll never happen, but he said, "Sure." This had gone by awfully quickly, he recollected. He'd like to take a whole night to explore her body and get to know her better.
There was a long pause.
Irileth watched him dress.
As Ash put back on weapons belts and the like, including a bizarre Dwemer-looking retractable hidden blade track thing attached to a bracer on his wrist, he said, "We should go talk to the jarl." He paused. "About the dragon."
Irileth genuinely laughed at that, but then said, "Ash, I want to fuck you again sometime." She was still naked, still sitting with her legs out in front of her and open, in the long grass of the field.
Ash smiled. He recalled absorbing—stealing, though he hadn't meant to—a dragon's soul and powers. He thought about the dragon language and words of power.
IV. Dénouement
Ash lie down beside Irileth. He probably could've done anything he wanted to her then, and she probably would've liked it. He still had the energy to but didn't want to, with her, anymore. Irileth was done.
Still looking very good naked to Ash, Irileth shifted and adjusted herself onto him, and rest her head on his chest and put an arm over him. It was nice. She liked it and so did he. He put his arm on that side around her. She put one of her legs between his, getting comfortable.
Still catching her breath, Irileth said, "I've heard the Nords' legends, you know." Her voice was sounding more like it normally did when she spoke to—at—him in Jarl Balgruuf's great hall. "They say that dragonborn can kill dragons and take their souls," she continued. "What you did with that . . . fire . . . rushing . . . I think that's what that was. I think you're a dragonborn."
"Okay, man," Ash said.
"I'm not a man," Irileth said, thumping a hand on his chest.
"I meant 'woman,'" Ash said.
Irileth smoothed her hand over Ash's chest, stroking him. "That's more like it," she said, and snuggled closer. She went on, "I don't know if I believe all the Nord lore, but I know they do, and that's what it says." She moved her hand lower and felt over his abs and belly through his clothes, which made her groin tingle dully. "I don't need some mythical dragonborn. You put down a dragon. You're more than enough for me."
Smiling, Ash leaned up and kissed her. She smiled too and kissed him back. He stroked her back and shoulders. Their breathing was returning to normal.
"Can we sleep here tonight?" Irileth said, mostly joking, nuzzling into his neck.
Ash laughed and said, "Okay."