Recap of Chapter 9:

They both poured as much feeling as one could into such an innocent gesture of affection. It quickly became heated again. Brynjolf's hands oved back down to her breasts, kneading and occasionally rolling a nipple between his fingers. Little puffs of air would escape from her lips whenever he did this. A tingling sensation bloomed in her chest. "Shit, Bryn, have you always been this good with your hands?" She asked, blushing at her own bold words. He smirked against her lips, "Wait till you feel how talented I am with my tongue, lass."

Chapter 10

Lowering his head, Brynjolf followed the swell of her right breast with his hot tongue, while his hand still gave attention to the left breast. Larka closed her eyes tight in anticipation. The hot wetness traced its way to the hardened peak. Back arching like a recurve bow, the women sucked in a gasp of air. 'Sweet Dibella, is any man's tongue allowed to feel this amazing?' her mind hazily thought.

She couldn't help a low groan that escaped from her parted lips. Brynjolf ran the tip of his tongue back up her chest, over her collar bone and shoulder, to her ear. "Don't hold back your sounds of pleasure, love. I want to hear you moan." His teeth gently pulled at her ear. Another wave of heat bloomed in her abdomen.

Hands on his chest, Larka brought them apart to look into his eyes. The green depths were so intense she almost didn't feel the tug at her neck. Looking down, the two noticed that their twin amulets had intertwined. At the same moment, they both reached up to untangle them, one pair of hands dwarfing the other. Larka giggled, "I see you still have my gift?" He nodded. "Aye, I never take it from around my neck."

Larka's heart quivered with admiration, a smile stretching across her features. "I am glad, for I never remove mine."

They were kissing again, and pulling at the clothing that remained on each other's bodies. Larka slid her fur shoes off, and squeaked. "Sorry!" she apologized, "the floor is cold." Brynjolf laughed, quickly whisking her over to his bed. He lay her down and followed after, covering her with his broad body. With teeth and tongue, the Nord man nipped and nibbled at Larka's neck, reducing her to a writhing, moaning mess. Wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her as his mouth and hands worked the intimate levers and buttons of her body. Years of picking locks and pockets had attuned his senses in more than just thievery. Soon, both of them were bare of their clothing. Larka admired her lovers body, and he admired hers. Neither of them were flawless. Brynjolf had acne scars on his shoulders and chest, remnants of a sward wound along his side, and a burn scar covering most of his lower back, from when he had tried to seduce a woman in a tavern when he was younger, only to find out her husband was a mage.

He traced his fingertips down her body, running them over every scar, blemish, and stretch mark. "You are so beautiful, Larka." She blushed, not really knowing how to respond other then give a smile and an awkward 'thank you'. "You're not so bad yourself, Nightingale." She quirked an eyebrow at him, but ended up making a peculiar expression that made him chuckle. "I will take that as a compliment."

She kissed him, slow and lingering, which didn't last long. He pressed his large naked body back into hers. Her skin was hot and the touch of his set her senses on fire. Blood pulsed hard through every part of her body. He now straddled her right leg, and his right hand trailed again down her body, his left hand tangled in her hair.

The hand on her chest teased her nipples for a fleeting moment before moving down her stomach, over her hip and thigh, then back up to below her belly button. Larka gave into the instinct to part her legs as he delved below her waist and into her heat. She had no time to feel any awkwardness as her hips involuntarily bucked a few inches up from the bed: the feeling was too intense. The pad of his thumb worked her bundle of nerves as he massaged the rest of her with his fingers. His hips moved against her thigh to gain some friction for his monstrous erection.

Larka all but clawed her nails over is shoulders and back. She was shaking from the increased blood flow and hormones running through her system. Every muscle seemed to move on its own. She knew what she wanted, and she was damn well sure Brynjolf wanted the same thing.