After hours of strolling through the temple, talking to the other Mord'Sith, Cara finds herself alone in her assigned quarters. Its as sparsely furnished as in every other temple of the Mord'Sith and Cara could easily pretend to be in her own chambers back at home, if it were not for the different arrangement. Despite her best efforts, she is not a hint closer of finding any indication of danger or sufficient evidence that may lead to the assumption, that a traitor could hide among her sisters in this temple. She had sent for Denna, hoping that she was more successful in obtaining new insights. Denna had always been a master in gaining information - and plenty ways of persuasion.
A knock on the door interrupts Cara musings. "Enter", she answers the request and turns to watch the familiar dark-haired Mord'Sith that had welcomed them step into the room, along with-a now collard-Denna. Delicious. Cara marvels at the sight, this mission is getting better and better. Only then she notices the bloody split on Denna's lip.
"What happened to her face?" Cara demands. "She is of no use to me, when her face is damaged."
The Mord'Sith flinches at Cara's harsh tone. "She steadfastly refused to be collared. But my sisters and I took care of it-eventually."
"How many of your sisters were needed to accomplish that?" Cara asks, honestly interested in the answer while she closes the distance between them.
"Five."
"Really," Cara takes the chain connected to the collar from the Mord'Sith and her eyes meet Denna's, whose expression can't be other described than smug. "Five?" It sounds more like a statement of appreciation, than an actual question, but the Mord'Sith confirms it anyway. "Yes, Mistress."
"Well, well… see to it that she is not harmed again. Now, leave us."
The other Mord'Sith turns on her heel and exits the room, closing the wooden door behind her. Cara stands in front of Denna, her grip tightens around the metal chain in her hand, as she wraps it over and over around her hand, pulling Denna closer.
"Did you find something out, pet?"
Denna steps forward menacingly and growls "I'm not your pet." Then walks away from Cara, only for being yanked back, by the chain still resting in Cara's hand. "As long as there is a collar around your neck, I am the one holding it and we`re in this temple, I fear you are." Cara's hand closes around Denna's collar and yanks her closer. "Please don't forget that."
Denna is strangling her with the chains before the last word of that sentence even rings out in the room. At least Cara has the mental image of exactly that happening in her mind. But Denna only narrows her eyes, nudging her lower lip with her tongue. Cara waits for her sisters contemplation to be over.
"Call me pet again, Cara, and I will end you." Taking a step back, Denna adds."Furthermore, I found nothing."
"Me neither," Cara admits reluctantly. "The only place left, where we could find something of importance would be the office of the Head Mistress."
"Then what are we waiting for?" Denna asks with a raised brow, "let's go!"
"Take off your gown!" Cara huffs, fingers already working to loose the buckles of her own leathers with the speed of exercised practice.
Denna shakes her head. "Under no circumstances I am taking off my clothes for this."
"Denna, we don't have time!" Cara yells, sounding desperate. "Take it off!"
Cara and Denna had been rummaging through hundreds of papers, boxes and the wooden desk in the office of the Mord'Sith in charge, as Cara had heard the main door in the corridor closing. Unmistakable the sign they only had seconds left before being caught in a room they had no business in.
Denna rolls her eyes, but finally opens the few buttons of her dress, sliding it unceremoniously from her shoulders. She stares at Cara.
"I know that my physical attributes are to die for," Denna deadpans, "but even they won't be able to safe us now."
"You shouldn't be talking so much," Cara leans against the edge of the wooden desk and motions for Denna to come closer, "Over here and for the Creators sake be quick about it!"
Denna rolls her eyes but obliges, coming to a halt in front of Cara, only to being shoved roughly to her knees. Cara's fingers open her belt and with a single motion pushes her pants down to her ankles. Her eyes find Denna's, who is looking up at her with a disbelieving expression.
Cara smirks, spreading her legs, "I should give your mouth another occupation."
Denna raises an incredulous brow. "You have truly gone mad, if you think I'm going down on you now."
Cara bends down and fists Denna's wavy tresses. "You seem to have forgotten about our conversation, you do as I say. Or explain to Lord Rahl why you failed this mission."
Denna's more than likely sarcastic reply gets lost, when Cara yanks her head unceremoniously forward, as soon as she hears voices from the corridor. Cara groans when Denna's lips make contact with her most sensitive skin, the spark of arousal igniting a sudden desire inside of her.
Whether it is the feel of Denna's lips on her sex or the sheer sight of having Mistress Denna kneeling naked before her, Cara can't tell which is kindling an actual want.
"You may begin now," Cara says patronizingly, to prevail upon Denna who has yet to prove her consummate skill. Denna only chuckles, but Cara feels it vibrating through her entire body, only to intensify the burning sensation.
Cara's grip on Denna's hair tightens, as Denna lips begin to move ever so slightly, trading one hand through Denna's hair, she uses the other as leverage to brace herself on the table behind her.
As entire quad of Mord'Sith enter the room all questions of 'what are you doing here' die away in surprised gasps and some appreciating growls. Much like Cara had expected in the first place.
Denna seems to take this as her cue and plunges her tongue deep inside Cara's folds with unprecedented vigor. Cara grips the edge of the table hard, groaning, as she tries not to lose her grip. With all effort she can muster, she pushes Denna away from her now throbbing heat. Denna's smile is complacent, as she licks over her lips appreciatively. Her eyes never leaving Cara's-twinkling devilishly, she husks, "Have I pleased you, Mistress?"
Cara groans. Were it not for the other Mord'Sith in the room, Denna would be panting, moaning her name in a matter of moments. It is not that she likes Denna. Not at all. But even she can't deny her otherworldly allure that is affecting her more than she ever thought possible.
Cara forces herself into a standing position-ignoring the way her legs tremble-and pulls Denna close, edging her thigh between Denna's thighs. If Denna likes to admit it or not, the wetness Cara can feel on her skin is betraying any otherwise claimed statement that Denna might voice in denial of her own involvement . Cara moves her thigh and a low whimper escapes without permission. "Not yet, but I'll allow you another try."
