Little Minx

They'd been traversing the mountains of The Teeth for more than a brace of dawns now: Jath and Lhara, picketing their way through shrub and bush, trekking rock-way and crests until Jath's woeful evening vision would drive them to cease in their travels for the evening.

They had slept on beds of heather, sheltered by scavenged pine branches, back to back so as to avoid the heightened tension that had been slowly building between them. The crescent moon peaked out from behind a layer of stark clouds, offering vague illumination upon both Jath and Lhara as they lay, once more, facing away from each other, Lhara, however, was failing to find sleep.

Shifting uncomfortably onto her back, Lhara found her gaze seeking her companions. He lay using his arm as a pillow. His wealth of silvery white hair slipped across his face and body, concealing the beauty that had invaded her dreams these past few days.

She hadn't known when it had happened, unsure if it was true passion, grief, or loneliness that was bringing her closer to this man. He was a Factionist after all. If he had not come to her village she would still be at home in Trosk, she would have been studying under the wise woman, her life would not be the tangled mess that it was now.

Yet, somehow, all of these logical arguments against passion did little to break the spell Jath had slowly been weaving over her. He was unlike any other man she had met. He was strong, without being boastful, articulate without ego, pretty without pride. These traits were almost impossible to find in a man, and Lhara knew a decent man when she found one.

Jath stirred in his dreams, causing a layer of his long hair to fall away from his face. His pale skin was so strange, even when they travelled beneath the sun he seemed to never pick up any colour. Unlike Lhara, which was always tan given how many hours she often worked out in the fields tending to her former flock.

Lhara drank in his beauty, so innocent in dreams. Her desire began to fill her and Lhara rolled back over to her side, her body now totally heated, nearing uncomfortable. Shifting herself a little closer, her back touched Jath's. A sigh escaped her throat, her hand ran down her body and the world darkened once more, only for Jath to come to her in dreams once more.

Jath awoke to find his arms coiled around somebody in the early morning. Squinting, the early morning rays offering very little light when he found Lhara held tight to him. His heart began to race, is body already reacting to the beauty of his travel mate. When…. When had this happened? Once more the dark-haired village girl had invaded his dreams, dreams that would make a West port sailor blush asher body fit so perfectly in his arms.

She was beautiful, even in dreams, yet now, looking at her so close to him, their legs wrapped together, they… they were holding hands. Jath tried to move, to free himself from this already awkward position. However, Lhara seemed unwilling to let him go.

"No..." the farm girl moaned.

"Lhara…?" Jath tested her words, tried to speak sense to her. This was dangerous. Jath had experienced love before, and every time he did that women ended up heartbroken… or worse. This girl had so much life, she couldn't waste it with him, even in dreams. Slowly, Lhara opened her eyes. She seemed as confused to see him looking at her as he did.

"Wha…? What…?" Lhara leapt back, skidding across the earth in shock. "I… I'm sorry… I didn't-"

Jath chuckled.

"Lhara, it's all right. No harm done."

"Yes… but-"

"Shh… let's just get on moving. The fourth company is getting further away the more we doddle."

Thankful for an escape, Lhara agreed. Together, after a hasty breakfast and a relief of waste, Jath and Lhara were back on the hunt of their quarry.

Lhara wandered out ahead, Jath's attention focused on a more prominent part of her anatomy, which she seemed to wiggle back and forth with earnest when skiting over stone. It was an action that was making him fall further and further behind, as walking became all the more annoying.

Finally, when night fell, the couple took shelter beneath a large outcropping of earth bone. The weather had been growing progressively worse over the day, and now this sudden storm had halted any further advancements for the pair of wanderers. In the search for warmth, Lhara sat stationed between her companions pins, both her coat and Jath's cloak flung over them, while they fought to keep each other warm and comfortable.

Jath's arms were locked around her waist, holding her endearingly as she trembled from the chill, they hadn't even been able to make a fire, owing to the wind and rain.

"Thi… this is bad..." Lhara's teeth chatted, her hands rubbing against the exposed flesh of her arms. She was so cold. With a stab of conscience, Jath began a soft, gentle touch with his hands, found her arms and began to rub against her skin in an attempt to offer comfort to his chilly companion.

Lhara breathed deeply, his touch slow and deliberate, itself, despite its otherwise innocent nature, causing her blood run slowly warmer through her body. He pulled the layers of fabric tighter around them, forcing the cold away a little more as Lhara shivered in his arms. Lhara began to snuggle back into her companions embrace, felt his hands slowly wrap, once more, around her waist, this time his fingers toying absently with the slight drape of her tunic.

What…? What was that?

Jath's knife seemed to be pressing into her rear as she squirmed in his embrace, heard his breathing heighten as the pale man placed his hands on her hips to cease her movements.

"Lhara… stop." Jath ordered, his voice gentle but firm however his weapon was still digging into her rear.

"Jath… your knife… it's really-"

"That's not my knife." Lhara paused, stunned, shell-shocked.

"That…? oh..."

"Yeah..." Jath's voice issued in a soft breath, the air absently brushing against her neck, causing another tremor of desire to ripple through her.

"Can't… I mean… am I…?"

"Yes, Lhara… you are… stay still and it will eventually go away."

"But I…" Lhara pressed her rear further back into Jath's weapon, felt it dig forcefully into her wool-covered ass. Jath groaned in lust, felt his hips flex against her as she began to giggle. "Wow… you really do need help, don't you?"

"Lhara… Don't tease, just… just stay still."

This was an opportunity she could not miss.

"What if I don't want too?" Lhara looked back at her pale companion with a look that would melt ice. Jath's heart began to beat a rapid cadence against his chest, as Lhara slowly turned, placed her legs on either side of his own and straddled his lap.

"Poor little Factionist..." Lhara cooed in a mock baby voice as she began to grind her sex once more into his groin. "Out here with only little me, I know you've been looking at me, haven't you? Watching me as I lead us on through these hills. Bet that's why you always fall so far behind."

Jath offered her a roguish smile, placed his hands on either side of her hips, felt her begin to grind into him again, felt his member grow, if possible, even bigger, as with a rush of daring, her lips claimed his.

Lhara had shared a few secret kisses with one or two of her crushes back in Trosk, but this time, with this kiss, Lhara felt a rush of emotions far beyond mere enjoyment. It was lust, pure lust and passion, whilst, with a forceful wrench of her tunic, Lhara's body was exposed to the elements.

All thought of the storm were cast aside, Jath placing kisses on her cheeks, neck and body. Lhara moaned, pulled him tighter to her as his tongue swept across her neck, felt his right hand fumbling with the many thongs which secured her pants at the front.

Lhara assisted. Taking his hands away, Lhara stepping back, stooping so as not to strike the ceiling of their shelter, so Lhara removed her pants, unveiling her young, sweet sex. Jath lent back in his seated position, gestured for Lhara to come forth, where he began to kiss, nip and suckle on the insides of her thighs.

Lhara moaned, felt him kiss up and down her legs. His tongue traced a teasing line across the crown of her sex, teasing, enticing. Lhara filled her hands with his hair, tried to force him to touch her more intimately. However, Jath was far from done with his teasing.

Forcing her around, Lhara gasped in pleasure as she collided with the mossy footing of the outcropping. Jath stripped off his tunic so as to expose corded muscle and the signs of war, Jath slowly climbed across her body, found her lips once more in a deep, endearing kiss. His touch slid down her body, his sword hand caressing her firm, dainty breasts. Traced a trail across her body, touched her body in places no man had ever done before.

Her body was alive with pleasure, his lips slowly working towards her neck as Lhara felt herself growing all the needier. His touch was like fire across his skin, dancing flames of passion when, suddenly, when the expectation was so great, his hand slid to the valley of her legs, just about to touch her… he lifted his hand and skipped by her sex.

"Nooooo…." Lhara moaned, flexing her hips, desperate for any contact with him in her most special of places. Jath smiled towards her with a cocky grin.

"Not yet… little minx, I am far from through with you." Jath's lips found hers once more, the night just beginning for each of them.