For the SkyrimKinkMeme.
An injured Farkas, worried about his marriage, and missing the wild bedroom funtimes he used to have with his wife, the Dragonborn, gets some crazy advice from Vilkas.
Please be advised that adult themes/language follow.
"She must just be bored," Vilkas had said. "Do something crazy. I heard some women like to be tied. Makes them feel helpless. It can be an aphrodisiac for powerful women like Lila."
So he'd resolved to suggest it to her, hoping that it might stir her interest in him. Hoping it could save their marriage, because after only a few weeks it felt like it needed saving. He wasn't big on that whole... emotion thing. But Lila mattered to him.
When he had been whole, he'd been able to travel with her. Been able to keep up, to watch her back, to keep her safe. But since that arrow in the knee he'd been laid up at home. It seemed his value, and their relationship had all been dependent upon his usefulness as a companion.
"Lila?" He'd started tentatively. He, the man who never hesitated had felt tentative as he'd tried to propose something to his wife. But right then, it didn't feel like facing his Lila. It felt like facing an angry sabre cat naked and empty handed. He felt vulnerable, and it was terrifying. But he'd pushed on, because he would face a dragonnaked and empty-handed for her.
"Hmm?" She'd glanced up from some book or another, had caught his gaze with those beautiful golden eyes of hers. When she looked at him like that, with the focused intensity, it went straight to his loins, clouding his mind with lust. He needed her like he needed air. Needed to bury himself inside her. Needed... to finish this conversation before he completely forgot.
"Have you heard of... bondage?" Her dark brow had quirked, and a spark of mischief had lit in her eyes. Those dimples he loved so much had appeared in her cheeks as a wicked grin curved her lips. That look on her face had been his undoing.
"Oh Farkas," she laughed. "I thought you'd never ask."
His grin matched her own as he strode across the small room, swept her up in her arms, and took the stairs two at a time on the way to their bedroom. He placed her on the bed and got to work, unlacing her boots first. He loved unwrapping his wife; taking the time to savor every inch of her as he revealed it.
But today, she was having none of it. She stood, shoved him down onto the bed, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Inch after inch of coffee colored skin was revealed to his hungry gaze. Her smile was devilish as she let it hang, covering her perfect breasts. He groaned, and reached for her. He needed her. Needed her now.
She stepped forward, caught his hands deftly and straddled him. Her mouth found his, but she kept her kisses light, teasing. Tormenting. She pressed him into the mattress, unfastening his clothing, sliding his shirt over his head, up his arms, and- she didn't take it off. Before he could react, she'd twisted his wrists together and bound him to the headboard with his own clothing.
Oh Shit he thought.
Lila's smile was dangerous as she leaned over him, licking his exposed chest. Her fingers splayed wide as she braced herself on his chest, rubbing along him, kissing and licking and nipping her way up his body. He growled, wanting to touch her, to feel her silken skin, to pull her to him, to do anything but passively wait for her to decide it was time.
She chuckled at the growl of frustration, slowing her pace even further. Her kisses were feather-light on his skin, yet they were somehow even more arousing. His erection strained against the fabric of his trousers, she felt it, and rubbed herself along the hard ridge beneath the leather.
His hips bucked involuntarily. She rode it, her eyes locked on his the whole time.
"Easy there, darling." Her voice was husky, betraying the need she obviously felt in response to him. "You wouldn't want to disappoint me by coming too early, would you?"
Farkas had never turned down a challenge, no matter how inane or stupid. When he and Vilkas had been 10, they'd argued over everything, and had challenged each other to anything. Who could eat the most sweet rolls before they vomited. Who could filch the most ale from Jorrvaskr's stores before they got caught. The list went on.
He'd never lost, either. He'd always found a way to beat Vilkas, or anyone else for that matter. He wouldn't start now, especially by losing to his wife.
"I'd never do that to you, dear." He smiled up at her, trying to appear more calm than he felt. He knew his wife, knew she'd never backed down from a challenge, either.
They gazed at each other, the moment stretching in silence. Then, she twitched her hips slightly, rubbing herself against him once more, and he had to bite back another groan. His woman was going to be the death of him. An amazing death, but a death nonetheless.
"Lila," he growled, jerking his hips upward once more.
"Darling?" She asked, the picture of innocence. She rubbed herself once more, slowly this time. "Did you want something?"
He didn't answer. Just strained against the bindings she'd caught him in. He'd get free, and he'd have her, injured knee or no, he'd take her in all the ways he'd been fantasizing about since his injury.
She slid herself down his body, catching the front of his trousers, slowly unfastening them. He held himself still, but it took all of his control. He didn't want her to stop. If she did, it might kill him. With an agonizingly slow pace, she pulled the leather down his hips, allowing his aching erection to spring free of its confinement.
Still, he had himself under control. Barely. Until she caught his eye, gazed up at him, and licked her lips.
With a sudden, savage need, he strained against the shirt, wishing he'd been wearing something old and worn, something which would give and let him claim her. Instead, she was going to have her way with him. It wasn't at all what he had imagined, thinking of this scene. Still, it might have been alright if she was not going so slowlyand drawing out his agony.
She tentatively reached out her tongue, just flicking the tip of his aching manhood. The noise he made was strangled as he fought the urge to thrust forward for more. He caught her gaze, desperation in his eyes. She smiled, and carefully wrapped her warm, soft lips around him. He panted, trying to contain himself as she inched forward, her eyes on his face as she bobbed her head up and down so cautiously that he might have laughed if it didn't feel so good.
Farkas could not believe that his wife was using her mouth this way. He'd heard of it, of course, but it wasn't something a wifedid. It was something a whore did for a man who paid her good coin. Yet, his wife, the most powerful woman in Skyrim was kneeling between his thighs, her lips on his- his mind blanked as she did something with her tongue.
Lila slowly released him with a vulgar 'pop.' She sat back on her heels, caught her lower lip with her teeth, and frowned.
"Was that good?" For the first time all night she actually sounded unsure.
"More than good." He didn't have words to express how amazing it had felt, how unique the experience was. Words had never been his strong suit.
The smile that crossed her face was glorious. She slid her shirt off, finally, letting it fall to the floor beside the bed. He had always loved her breasts, they were a perfect handful each, soft and warm. She made amazing noises when he nuzzled them. Even now, when he was unable to touch them, he admired the view.
When she reached up and touched herself, his mouth went dry. Her hands slid around the curves, cupping them, her nimble fingers circling her own nipples in the same way he might if he could touch. Then a hand slid down, along a toned torso, unfastening the front of her trousers and sliding inside. He couldn't pull his gaze away, even if he wanted to.
He wanted it to be his hand, wanted to touch her, to make her writhe and moan and scream his name. He'd thought about it constantly while he'd waited for his injury to heal. It had gotten him through the worst of it, when he'd been trapped in bed. Imagining all the things he could do to her without straining his knee. And now here she was, touching herself while he watched helplessly.
It was the best kind of torture.