It was easy to tell when they had been near. They didn't bother hiding their feeding. They didn't need to. Large chunks of bark were ripped from the tree trunks, exposing fresh pulp beneath the surface.
Mjoll slammed Claudette against the cold walls of her Riften home, hands fumbling with her armor. The Nord yanked on the worn belts. She pulled on her rough leather vest, but Claudette's clothing was too complicated when Mjoll's hunger was overwhelming her limbs. Her kisses were bites into Claudette's mouth, her voice, her shout. She tugged on her lower lip, sucking and tonguing the soft chunk of flesh. Her hands steadied long enough to pick up the younger mage and wrap her legs around her waist, grinding against her and feeling her shake.
They'd never make it to the bed.
Claudette panted and pulled Mjoll's wet blonde hair, grasping her braid and jerking her head back. She dug her tongue into her neck, pressing deep into the sore salty skin, gnawing hard as soon as Mjoll gasped. She wanted to leave bruises, suck the blood to her surface. Evidence of injury from uncaged lust.
Too much time would pass before their skin could touch, before their sweating bodies could embrace.
Mjoll carried her to the dining table and laid her down, hips still grinding teasingly against her. Hands still grasping her covered breasts. Claudette waited with tense legs hanging off the edge of the table. Mjoll continued to slow down again, carefully unbuckling her pants and pushing them down at a torturous pace. She kneaded Claudette's bare thighs with her broad hands, fingers curling and the joint of her thumb sliding back and forth over tender muscle. The mage's pants were stuck around her ankles, caught on her boots, and adding another obstacle for comfort—for full contact.
Mjoll leaned forward, biting Claudette's pale neck, fighting for choked sounds from her throat. One hand grazed her hip bone. The other brushed back Claudette's long fine hair away from her sweating brow. She stared into her dark brown eyes and kissed her small round chin before returning to her neck, teeth tracing and nipping her tender skin.
That one hand, the one near her hip bone, now pushed itself between Claudette's thighs. With the pad of her thumb, she rubbed between her lips.
"You're so wet," Mjoll whispered.
Claudette whimpered and rolled her hips harder against the Nord's strong fingers. Her body was on fire, sparks flickering inside her. She was being shoved further and further up a mountain. She was waiting for Mjoll to bring her past the summit and watch her fall, slack and twisting. But Mjoll caressed her gently, spread her wetness with lazy affection. She lost sight of the woman above her, lost the ambient sounds of her own voice. She only felt the hand between her, the thick fingers playing with her lips, and a hot breath on her collarbone.
Mjoll delved a finger inside of her, curling it, watching Claudette's reaction. This was her favorite part. She would explore new ways to get new answers. Sometimes a soft hum, or a moan, or no response worth noting. She added another finger and saw heavy exhales, clenched eyes, and a nervous mouth trying to form something logical. She thrust inside of her, testing rhythms and locations, her thumb pressing against the mage's clit.
Claudette needed Mjoll's attention as much as Mjoll needed to give it to her—Mjoll needed to give her lover release, sync with her heavy gasps. She needed to wind her up until she snapped and broke into pieces, collapsing like a ragdoll.
Mjoll worked into her, sucked her neck, tugged her hair. She felt the younger woman's legs shake and her insides clench around her fingers. She watched her squirm. She bit her own lip as she watched Claudette's chest heave faster and faster—watched her body arc and pivot. Then, as if she cut the strings of her marionette, Claudette sighed and relaxed on the harsh wood of the table. She kissed Mjoll with easy fondness and calmed her body before working on the buckles of Mjoll's armor.
A/N: Yup. just posting a bunch of porn.