Author's Note:

Bonus chapter!

So… fair warning, this chapter is practically all smut :D Horrible, cheesy, self-indulgent, awkward smut, for which I'm sorry in advance :D If you're not interested in that, you can skip the chapter entirely. If you don't want to miss any dialogue and introspection at all, skip to the last section.

Otherwise, enjoy I guess :D


Chapter LXVI – Afterparty

"Hey! What's that?"

One of the maids walking around the half-empty ballroom stopped them, pointing to the table cloth rolled up into a sack in Bishop's hand.

"Clean up service," Bishop smirked, as Aeyrin hid behind him, giggling quietly.

The maid gave him an uncertain look but he pointedly ignored her, dragging both the makeshift sack and the blushing Bosmer along with him towards the exit.

They both burst into laughter once the cold night air greeted them, heading through the Palace viaducts.

It was all so quiet, even the sounds of stragglers in the gardens were getting drowned out soon by the nocturnal chirping in the abandoned streets.

Bishop threw the tablecloth over his shoulder, the clattering and clanking of bottles disturbing the serene calm briefly.

As they walked by the first mansion near the Palace, he immediately lunged at her, pinning her to the cold stone wall of the adjacent garden, making her stumble backwards, his lips capturing hers in an insistent rough kiss.

She moaned under his lips, now uncertain whether her face was burning up from the alcohol or the arousal. Her hands folded against his chest, grabbing at the hems of his doublet and dragging him even closer to her, if that were even possible.

Distant giggling echoed from behind him as more of the guests made their way from the palace.

He growled in annoyance and tore himself away from her. Her face was still flushed, her breathing ragged and eyes glassy from inebriation.

He took her by the hand, his other one still supporting the makeshift pack as he ran with her along the stone wall right into the manor's garden. He threw the sack among some flowerbeds unceremoniously, the clattering ringing through the quiet alcove.

"What are we doing here?" she chuckled briefly, looking over to the manor behind them. There was no light in the windows – the owners were probably either away or asleep.

"We're here for the afterparty," Bishop smirked, putting his arms around her and pressing her to him in a tight embrace, his lips descending back on hers.

In a matter of seconds she was being pressed back against one of the walls again, their shapes covered in the dark shadows of the topiaries around.

Bishop grabbed hold of each of her wrists in his hands, moving her arms above her head as she arched her back, pressing her torso firmly against his chest. She bit down on his lower lip in excitement, then moving her kisses along his stubbly jaw, down to his neck. She kissed the side of his throat, her tongue flicking over his skin, his fast heartbeat palpable under her lips.

He moved one of his legs between hers, pressing the fabric of her skirt, his strong thigh pushing against the apex of her legs. She felt the wetness soaking her undergarment as he rubbed his leg against the cloth, his own excitement discernable under the soft fabrics, pressing against the side of her belly.

The arms he trapped moved to be only held up by one of his hands, her slender wrists fitting into his tight grip. His other hand moved to her chest quickly, but with the bustier in the way, he found no good way to claim his prize, groaning with frustration against her ear.

Instead, he moved his hand lower, steadily bundling the cloth, baring her legs gradually.

"Ahh… h-here?" she yelped out as the cold air assaulted her extremities, the skirt traveling up her thighs.

"I can't wait anymore," he let out a low growl, letting go of her hands as they fell to his neck, tangling in the soft hairs at its nape.

She tried to concentrate on rational thoughts. They were hidden, but surely someone could hear! The road was just there, behind the tall stone wall. But her resolve was long gone, his insistent hand erasing any hesitation with every other passing second.

He used one hand to hold the dress at her waist, the cold sending shivers over her spine as it brushed against her wet underwear. His other hand dropped to her crotch immediately, rubbing the soft white laced fabric into her slit.

She let out a strained moan when his fingers moved lower towards her entrance, pressing in slightly, stretching the cloth. He took her hand in his, guiding her to hold her dress up. Then he laced his fingers under her panties, pulling them down in one swift motion. She stepped out of them with a slight wobble, her legs feeling weak. He picked the garment from the ground, stashing it in the pocket of his doublet, then one of his hands moved back to tease her between her legs, the other fumbling with the lacing of his trousers.

She joined her free hand with his, helping him along, soon enough enclosing it around his hard cock.

He dipped his head against her neck, groaning when her hand squeezed him in her grip, moving up and down his length a few times.

"Enough teasing, sweetheart. I need you," he whispered against her skin, wrapping his hands under her backside, lifting her up along the cold stone wall. She draped her arms behind his neck again, the fabric of her dress now held up by her thighs, which enfolded around his waist, the head of his cock pressing against her entrance enticingly.

She quickly moved one of her hands over her mouth, muffling the loud gasp escaping her when he entered her with one powerful hard thrust. He groaned deeply at the contact, her walls clenching him inside tightly.

His mouth started to bite into her neck and shoulder hungrily as he began to thrust against her with strained hard movements, her hand still adamantly muffling the loud gasps and moans. Her weight was pressing him deeper and deeper inside her, the wall and his large body her only support, her wetness squeezing him inside with every movement, quivers coursing through her whole body.

"Fuck… that's so good, don't stop…" he groaned against her shoulder, her walls tightening around him instinctively each time.

She felt him starting to hit against that sweet spot inside her with every thrust, his movements turning even harder and faster as jolts of pleasure shot through her core. His fingers dug into the skin of her upper thighs firmly, nails pinching into her flesh.

She couldn't hold out any longer, the sensations overwhelming her, the only sound in her ears were her muffled groans, his pleasured grunts and the sound of their bodies making contact. The next thrust left her reeling, the hand on her mouth barely able to contain the series of inarticulate moans she let out as burning heat spread through her whole body.

Her tightness clenched him even more firmly, the pulsating of her walls drawing him in, trapping his throbbing cock inside her.

His thrusts became shallow, but faster, his cock twitching, on the brink of explosion.

A few seconds later she felt the warmth flood her insides, spreading through her pleasantly as the rough thrusting left her on the edge once more. He went for a few more thrusts, sending her into another spasm before they both let out a strained satisfied gasp.

His knees were growing weaker, unable to hold up her weight anymore, he let her down on her wobbly feet slowly, her skirt sliding over her legs. She felt some of the fluids escape her, trailing down her inner thighs, but he seemed unconcerned with returning her undergarments to her, untangling himself from their embrace instead and pressing his back to the wall right next to her.

The sweat on her body made the cool night air feel even colder and she pushed herself from the wall, eager to leave the freezing stone. Her feet were hopelessly wobbly, so without a better idea, she bent down to undo the thin straps of her high heels, eventually leaving her feet only protected by the soft stockings. Bishop didn't miss the opportunity to grope at her backside as it was tantalizingly displayed to him in that moment.

"We should go. I'm not done with you yet," he murmured low in his throat, his hand never leaving her ass even when she straightened out, ushering her away from the garden.

At the last moment he remembered their hard-won loot and grabbed the makeshift pack, slumping it over his shoulder.

"Well don't you two look fancy… and ruffled. That's how you know it was a good party," Corpulus chuckled as they entered The Winking Skeever.

"You bet!" Bishop laughed, mussing up Aeyrin's hair affectionately when she giggled at the innkeeper.

"Drinks? Late dinner?" Corpulus, nodded at them, cleaning some tankards in the meantime.

"Nope. Got our own haul," Bishop smirked, presenting the wrapped tablecloth to the innkeeper proudly.

Corpulus raised his brow at him in curiosity, but Bishop didn't elaborate, instead they made their way towards their room to continue the afterparty.

As they entered the room, Bishop threw the sack on the ground unceremoniously, grabbing her in his embrace hurriedly again.

She threw the shoes she's been carrying away, draping her arms behind his neck and kissing him deeply. He started to paw at her at once, again trying to feel up her chest through her dress. He groaned in frustration again, pushing her away from him briefly and twirling her around, her back to him.

"Fuck, we need to get rid of that 'thing'," he chuckled, "hiding your tits is like a crime of nature."

She laughed, blushing deep red. How did he do it? Making her feel better with just a silly remark like that.

Bishop started to untangle the lacings of her dress, getting somewhat frustrated at times, yanking at the strings. Finally the clothes fell to the ground smoothly, baring her compressed torso, her stockings, filthy on their soles from the road and her bare backside.

Bishop stopped suddenly and instead of continuing to remove her clothes he looked her over, drinking in the sight in front of him.

She felt his fingers brush against the hem of her left stocking on the back of her upper thigh. There was a strange tension, her breath caught in her throat, bated as his fingers brushed over the lace of one leg, then moving towards another. She felt strangely scrutinized, not being able to see what he was doing, where he was looking, but it made her even more excited for some reason.

His fingers moved upwards, gently brushing over her asscheek, then continuing further, tugging lightly on the tight bustier, playing with the fastenings. She felt a slight relief on her compressed chest as he undid the neat bow at the back, but he stopped there.

She felt him move closer to her, his body only a hair's breadth away, his breath tickling her ear.

"You want me to release you, princess?" he asked in a low voice, his fingers still playing with the bustier.

"Yes…" she gasped, the anticipation giving her goosebumps all over her body.

He placed his hands on her flanks and nudged her forward, guiding her towards the desk at the side of the room. She found herself pressed against the table, her underbelly leaning on the hard edge as he pushed on her back lightly, making her bend over, her arms quickly folding under her, supporting her on the wood of the desk.

"H-how are you gonna release me like this?" her voice trembled as she willed herself not to look back. It was so much more exciting when she didn't know what he was about to do to her.

"Like this…" he chuckled in a husky voice, then she heard a movement and suddenly a warm breath on her backside, hands gripping her inner thighs, yanking them apart.

His tongue entered her wetness immediately, making her gasp in surprise. She remembered she was still somewhat dirty from their previous escapade, and this angle really left little of her to the imagination, but he didn't really seem to mind any of that as his hand joined his exploration, his fingers, teasing her clit, sometimes entering her when his mouth moved to nip at her skin. His other hand kneaded and massaged her flesh continuously, making her whole body shiver under him.

It really didn't take long, the previous anticipation getting her more than ready for a fast release. She cried out loudly as he sucked on her nub eagerly, her walls convulsing around his two fingers when he thrusted them inside again only a second later.

He continued the treatment for a while yet, enjoying her helpless mewls and writhing under his ministrations.

She bucked against him in another flood of pleasure, letting out a low breathy moan.

He stopped the teasing then, letting her slump against the table weakly as he straightened himself up, his hands returning to the bustier.

He fiddled with the fastenings, but they seemed like an elaborate puzzle. She was half-lying on the table, still trying to collect herself, her breathing heavy, her cheeks burning red. He yanked hard on the fastenings suddenly, making her whole body jerk, a high-pitched gasp escaping her as she straightened her back, moving herself up from the cold wood, supporting her weight with her hands.

He tried again, yanking her once more, harder, then again and again. Her head was starting to spin, every movement tightening the bustier around her even more, pressing against her breasts and ribs painfully, her breath, still heavy after her release, now too difficult to get under control.

"Ah… Bish… s-stop," she gasped out, making him realize himself.

"Sorry, sweetness," he grumbled in frustration and let go of her garment, moving away from the table. She finally tried to get her breathing under control, although the bustier was still so uncomfortably tight around her.

The room was filled only with the sounds on her heavy breaths and Bishop's rummaging through his pack. What was he doing? She still convinced herself to keep her eyes straight ahead, letting the anticipation build up again.

She felt him approach her again in a little while, then something lithe and hard pressed against her back.

The sound of snapping strings filled the room as the hard edge moved over her spine, the bustier loosening around her, making her sigh out in relief.

Did he just cut the strings?

He seemed unsatisfied with the results though.

"What the fuck?" he grumbled and she felt his fingers study the garment still wrapped around her body, but now mercifully not compressing her anymore.

"Don't move," he said in an annoyed tone.

She felt the sharp edge of his hunting knife press against her skin gently, her breath catching in her throat as it slipped below the garment.

He pulled the blade away, pulling the cloth further from her body, making sure that the cold metal edge didn't touch her skin anymore.

Then in one swift rip, the bustier fell off her onto the wooden desk, the sound of his knife clattering on the ground echoing through the room.

"Finally. Now you're all mine again," he chuckled, embracing her from behind, his hands on her breasts immediately, kneading and massaging them eagerly.

She turned around after a while, looking at him ponderingly.

"Why do you like ruining my clothes so much?" she poked a finger at his chest teasingly as his hands returned back to her breasts, brushing across the imprints left by the bustier.

"Because you look better without them. You just keep insisting on wearing them. What else am I supposed to do?" he laughed, running his fingers across the two necklaces dangling on her chest.

"Well… you look better without them too…" she gave him a mischievous smile, inclining her head towards his new fancy clothes.

"Fuck no! I paid my money for that! And who knows when you get another brilliant idea to go somewhere we need to dress up. You can ruin my regular clothes later. Just take these off," he scowled at her, shaking his head adamantly.

She pouted a little, curious what the fascination with ruining clothes was, but then again, he had a point. And it wasn't as if she was planning to wear that chest-prison ever again.

She moved her hands to the single string fastening the doublet together, pulling on it. The folds uncovered the white shirt underneath and she draped the doublet over his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his mouth nipping at her ear in the meantime.

She interrupted him for a bit, dragging the shirt over his head and throwing it somewhere unceremoniously. She wanted to enjoy undressing him, but found herself a bit overeager to slow her pace as his hands tangled in her hair, messing up her hairdo even more than before, his mouth moving down to her collarbone.

Before he could continue exploring her she pushed him away so that he wasn't pressing her against the table anymore. She needed more room to maneuver.

He watched her intently as she dropped to her knees, his hands still clutched in her hair. She untangled the fastenings of his boots quickly and he helped her eagerly by kicking them off of himself.

She moved her hands towards his groin, her face flushed, her fingers brushing against him teasingly before she started to undo the fastenings. She pulled his trousers down swiftly, her eyes locked on him in front of her face. He stepped out of the clothes, kicking them unceremoniously away as he kept watching her with hungry eyes, his hands gripping at her hair in insistence.

She looked up at him shyly, one of her hands moving to his length as she filled her mouth with the tip of him almost immediately, her tongue swirling around, tasting him.

He let out a loud groan at the sensation. She was surprisingly eager to take initiative, but he wasn't really complaining. Her tongue kept teasing him as she moved closer to him, taking in more of him slowly, tentatively, her cheeks hollowing on occasion.

His hands were still gripping her hair, but this time he forced himself not to guide her, curious to see her own boldness. He felt her move him further in, a slight contraction of her throat, then a hurried withdrawal. She gave him a demure look as he smirked at her, his grip on her hair easing before she positioned her head into a better angle, taking him in again.

She let out a strained huff through her nose, letting her hand fall off him, engulfing more of him tentatively. She felt him press against the back of her throat uncomfortably, the urge to gag overpowering her as she withdrew again, taking another deep breath. She thought he would laugh at her efforts, but when she looked back up at him, his eyes held only a strange fascination, and palpable hungry lust.

She tried again, this time ready for the sensations. She concentrated on breathing through her nose, moving further and further in, her throat contracting around him a couple of times before her nose collided with his lower abdomen.

Bishop was letting out a loud groan through the entire process, her mouth enveloping him entirely. "Fuck… that's so good…" he gasped as she looked up at him, her eyes glittering with hint of tears at the initial discomfort, but now she seemed to be composing herself, breathing somewhat steadily, her tongue attempting to move around the underside of his cock.

She started to bop her head lightly, gradually picking up the pace, an occasional hum forming at the back of her throat, vibrating pleasantly.

Soon her ministrations left him unable to keep still, his hand fisting in her hair firmly, his hips thrusting hard against her. She seemed to be starting to struggle with the pace, breathing through her nose heavily, excess of saliva building up in her mouth, at times escaping with the wild thrusts, dropping down her chin and on her breasts. He was way past being able to ease the pace though, his cock twitching in her throat, the occasional contractions sending him even closer to the edge.

She quickened the pace suddenly, uneven breaths escaping her nostrils. His hand flew to the edge of the desk beside them to steady him, fingers digging into the wood, nails scratching at it desperately.

"Fuck…" he grunted loudly, caught off guard by her sudden redoubled effort, filling her mouth. Her eyes went wide, massaging him with her throat muscles and tongue even more as she attempted to swallow. He reluctantly withdrew from her and she tried to recompose herself, her breathing heavy, face flushed and chest heaving frantically.

"Shit… you alright?" he gasped between his own heavy breaths, dropping on his knees to her, stroking her hair soothingly.

She nodded slowly, the initial shock finally passing. She gave him a weak smile and a somewhat embarrassed chuckle as he stared at her, no longer as concerned with her wellbeing as enthralled by the sight of her flushed face, messy hair and chin and breasts stained with fluids.

She bit her lower lip briefly when she noticed his hungry stare. It felt like she was being devoured…

Their afterparty suddenly felt far from over.

She nestled herself comfortably against his chest, hear head spinning and buzzing pleasantly.

Both of them were lying unceremoniously on the splayed tablecloth on the floor, empty bottles of spiced wine and stains from food decorating the doubtlessly expensive fabric.

Bishops fingers played lazily with the hems of her stockings, occasionally stroking over the contours of her otherwise naked body, but both of them were far too exhausted to continue their exploits.

It was almost morning, but there was no rush. The day ahead was pleasantly unplanned, leaving them time to recuperate.

"Wasn't half bad, you know…" Bishop mumbled into her ear, his eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

"Hmm?" she didn't feel like using words. Closing her eyes made her too dizzy, so instead she concentrated on studying the stains on the tablecloth and trying to discern some patterns among them.

"The party… you think the Thalmor bash will be like this?" he chuckled, his chest vibrating under her.

She scoffed, turning around in his embrace, now getting dizzy from observing the stains too closely. She could see them when she closed her eyes.

"Well… might as well make the afterparty similar…" he patted her thigh with a pleased grin, still playing with her stockings.

"You like 'em?" she sighed lightly, feeling him brush the fabric pressing against her scars.

"Yeah…" he murmured, not even sure why he liked the stockings on her. What was it about a measly piece of cloth?

"I think… she gave 'em to me to hide… the scars…" she rolled over slightly, burying her head into his shoulder.

"Wouldn't the dress hide them?" he chuckled, but she didn't respond. He thought for a while in the silence, remembering her mood back at the store. She let people make her insecure way too easily. But then again, he felt like lately he could relate.

He slowly ran his hand below the stocking on her left leg, nudging it to uncover the old scars.

"I like them… they're like your own little mystery. You ever gonna tell me how you got them?" he smiled lightly, but wasn't really planning on coaxing her further. He knew too well how painful it was to share some memories.

"An evil cat…" she mumbled almost incoherently, turning over again, burying her head back into his chest.

He ran his fingers over the scars for a while gently before he noticed her breathing getting slightly heavier.

With great effort he managed to move, getting himself up, every muscle in his body sore as he collected her in his arms, laying her slowly on the bed.

He lay beside her, turning his attention to the enchanted headband tangled in her messy hair. He worked diligently, even with tired eyes, careful not to hurt her by tugging at her hair. The process lulled him pleasantly to half-sleep.

Finally, he raised the headband victoriously from her head, throwing it across the room.

It reminded him of the paladin.

It shouldn't be on her.

She was all his.