- Chapter Seventy-Five -
He Said Jump, She Said Swim
[Warning: explicit content]
Crashing almost straight away, everything compounded all at once and Dells was out like a light, asleep the very second her head hit the pillow. Curled up at the foot of the bed like a trusty pet, she nestled deep into the beige-covered rectangle, braid falling across the bridge of her nose. She seemed so serene... almost like it didn't matter where she went to sleep. Now wasn't that a novel notion?
After getting the heiress up the stairs and into the room, Nadine held the girl upright while Chloe tossed down one of the spare pillows, theoretically making up a bed. Sweltering, it was too hot for blankets, and Daniella was still wearing her coat if it got nippy on the floor. So far as the locksmith was concerned, so long as the young woman kept her back to the window, she could sleep through the rest of the day no problem.
Chloe didn't endeavor to sound especially heartless, but it might have been nice if anyone had thought to consult her first.
Mind definitely elsewhere, a pair of onyx orbs descended hungrily upon the lemur-loving panther, shining brilliant in lust. "Now that I have you to myself, I think it's time we had a little... talk."
Nadine - bless her - had missed the point entirely, "We're not alone. Adler's there on the floor." Stating the obvious as she was prone to do in moments such as these, the muscular female gestured down to their self-welcomed guest. Coiled tight in a little ball, the heiress was rather hard to miss, taking up a decent chunk of the available walking space.
"I beg to differ."
Admittedly it was a bit of a gambit to time it the way she had, but when a person required that deep REM kind of sleep it was almost impossible to wake them, and it went without saying that the girl definitely needed her beauty rest. Treading over to the youngest among their ranks with a goal in mind, the pickpocket nudged her shoulder. When that failed to do anything, she prodded her again, lightly digging her thonged foot into the girl's side. Zero response, not even a lazy wave of the hand.
Glancing back at her partner, Chloe shook her head, "It's just you and me in here, love."
Skeptical despite witnessing firsthand that there wasn't anything in the world that could have broken through to the adult offspring in that moment, the former mercenary was too cautious to just let herself believe. "Really? What makes you so sure she'll stay that way?" Knowing Chloe the way she did, Nadine added preemptively just as the other woman was about to open her mouth, "And don't say we can just knock her out again."
"You're such a spoilsport." Placing the beach bags next to the bathroom door, the olive-skinned female shrugged a single shoulder. Even though her suggestion had been canned, the photographer was confident that they would have all the time they would need. "Anyways, what gave you the impression I planned on taking my time tonight? Love, you know as well as I do that I can have you on your back calling out my name before supper."
Worrying at her bottom lip, she knew that that was not another empty promise from a loud braggart - Frazer had delivered more than once on that very same claim. Tempted to take the other woman up on the challenge, she couldn't forget that they had company. Although...
Considering just how deep under the interloper was, it did seem highly likely that they wouldn't be bothered for quite some time. Dark skin feeling the restraint of the tight one piece she had donned, Nadine figured that it wouldn't hurt anything to have a bit of help getting out of their respective swimwear. And... Knees buckling in a way that only Chloe could make them, the woman could feel her resolve weakening underneath that carnal granite stare.
She had only the one condition, "So long as we stick to a little light messing around."
[The Clarity of Dreams]
Everything black inside the monochrome pearl, the mind did roam, unaware that at that exact same moment, a pair of all-consuming onyx orbs descended over a sable lynx with honey eyes. Brilliant as a glossy, plastic sheen in the right light, the orbs smoldered over the wildcat, "Now that I have you to myself, I think it's time we had a little... talk."
Distinctive and erotic, the dripping violet voice that came from the floating jet disk was familiar... Almost hauntingly so, and it was wrong.
Purr rich as it was exotic, the lynx bobbed it's pointed whiskers, "We're not alone. Adler's there on the floor."
Bundled in the death cradle and swaddled all in blacks and blues, almost face-down on the veiled interior, a rectangular figure with dark hair lay in repose. Eyes shut in the water, the body was leeched of color and paler than the creamy frill that decorated the outside. Looking at it too much filled one with a sense of sorrow, of unfulfilled purpose.
"I beg to differ." Playing like a scratched gramophone, the voice hadn't necessarily come from the body, but it definitely wasn't the feline that spoke. Licking its paw, the messages sounded more like a memory ought to, the words split between past and present, between the warm that had grown cold and the closeness that was slipping away, bit by bit. "It's just you and me in here."
Mighty lynx a house cat, nay, a morphine kitten that had lost its way, the second one tilted its head. More cautious than optimistic, she would have traded the world on a string to have it be so simple, however experience had conditioned her to believe otherwise. "Really? What makes you so sure it'll stay that way?"
"Not a damn thing." Sounding rather like comfort, the pillow was so certain that there was no way of knowing anything for sure that it seemed to border on confidence. But that was fine, because she knew that she could believe him.
She knew.
[It's A Funny Thing]
Ass swinging - sorry, sashaying - from side-to-side as Sleeping Beauty was supported up the stairs, Sam watched them all the way to the room. Telling himself that he was simply checking up on them to make sure that the girl was in good hands, it was hard not to dwell on the image of the trio; Rafe-shaped and totally out of sorts, the middle was being lugged down the hall between a lush peach that was the pinnacle of all backsides and another that was as interesting to him as a burnt bridge. Anyone would have saved the moment for the spank bank.
Mental image not a check he planned on cashing-in anytime soon, the professional thief returned to his own room by his lonesome. Exile was an old acquaintance, but a welcome one at this point.
It was still early enough that there was a kid running up and down the hall unattended, nothing but azure and orange creme in the sky. Cassie and her friends would have hours left to burn before the sleeping bags came out and the slumber party hit full swing, however he somehow wasn't all that devastated by missing out on a PG movie night with a bunch of brats. His day had been more than a little trying, and he was ready for it to be over.
Sam's first order of business was to head to the bathroom to wash off the beach before climbing into bed - with any luck, he would be out like a light. Able to fake it with the rest of them, the brunette was usually the last one to sleep at night, and it had been that way going as far back as he could remember.
Turning back the clock to Nathan's arrival into the world, the new baby had kept all three members of the family up at night, crying at all hours with no thought for the others. Annoying as that was, young Samuel had been taught that it was his responsibility to look after his baby brother. Handy, he'd also learned that camping on the floor next to the crib meant he could see what was the matter with his new sibling that much sooner (he distinctly remembered that the new baby liked the company).
Around the tender age of seven, he'd learned that his mother was sick. Not trying to, the boy would rise halfway through the night more often than not to listen to her tears as she suffered. Half the time he'd sneak into her study to keep her company, but after a while it just became too much to see her like that, so their late night readings trickled to a stop.
He never did know what hurt her more.
After the funeral, in the short time that their father could be bothered to keep them (likely the same time he was exploring the options), Sam recalled two straight weeks of listening to CHiPS blaring in the living room. Neglecting to care for his grieving five year old, the tv had been turned up to drown out the unending sobs. It was deplorable, but it was infinitely better than the alternative.
Dumped off at the orphanage without so much as an adequate explanation why, Sam had heard too many horror stories to rest easy in the new setting. Looking out for his little brother like he always had, he had lost a good deal of sleep those first couple of weeks, but his first priority was Nathan. It was always Nathan, and it always would be.
Once the boys had settled in, it evolved from carving his way out of the role as 'new kid' to asserting his place, which meant not taking crap from anyone. The older he'd gotten, the way he did that had changed from being the goober that had his hand placed in a dixie cup overnight to rebelliously shirking curfew with the other troublesome kids in the neighborhood. Smoking the cigarettes he'd stolen from Sister Katherine, trying not to get caught burning the extra homework he'd gotten in detention, and getting into all kinds of shenanigans with the friend of the month. More often than not Crystal had run in that circle, where they'd bonded over knowing what it was like having a mom that couldn't care enough to stay in the picture.
Long story short, the ex-con knew exactly what it was like to be denied sleep.
Hot steam essential to ease out the knots that had formed playing volleyball, to coax Hypnos out of his Underworld cave, Sam popped in and out of the world's quickest shower. Not wasting any time dilly-dallying or reading the bottle as he scrubbed himself clean, the thief simply wanted to lay the hell down. Surely it could be said that he had earned that much? Too sore and far too tuckered to argue, the man smoothed the stream running over his aching muscles with his bare hands, brushing away grains that the sponge had missed. If there was ever a time for a second set of eyes...
Towel wrapped loosely beneath the dip of his hip, he had only barely wiped the water off his skin, leaving it glistening and susceptible to the slightest breeze or disturbance in the air. Hair dripping in thin rivulets from auburn waves, clinging like vampire bats at a meal to the coarse hair curled on his brawny chest, he couldn't muster up enough to care that he was still so damp. The bed had seen worse... Much worse.
Eye going to the place where he had been so close to making it with the mud monster, the man shook his head and reached into his nightstand for a smoke. Fully aware that he probably shouldn't have lit up under the circumstances (or at all, thanks to Father Duffy), that he was hopefully close to just falling asleep, Sam shrugged it off as he'd never burned down the room before. Besides, as tempting as it was, he wasn't quite ready to fall asleep that very minute.
Cigarettes something of a comfort even in the worst of times, it wasn't as if he were trying to stall getting into bed or anything. It was just that Sam knew himself well enough to know that he couldn't just drift off to dreamland straight away, not even if he had curled up the minute he had returned.
Before anything else could have done him in, the sand would have scratched and itched, and it would remain with them for the remainder of their stay. A shower had been just what the doctor ordered, so to speak. While it wasn't in the same category of necessary perhaps, the cigarette was just what he needed to help wind down after everything.
Inhaling that bittersweet reprieve one last time before snubbing the smoldering butt in the cheaply-made hotel ashtray, the thief stared up at the ceiling, one arm crooked behind his neck. It wasn't anything, however, after being cooped up together for such a long time now, laying there like he was back in solitary or something was... a bit off. Extra weight something that he'd grown accustomed to these last few nights in particular, it wasn't anything world-ending - hell, give it time and he'd probably be over it and on to the next adventure within the week. Underneath the next taker. Whichever.
Stretching out in order to get comfortable, it was nice having the whole bed to himself for a change. Rather, it was a load off not having to look over both their shoulders, babysitting a young woman that was about the right age to be watching his niece for a living between classes. Waiting for the panic-attack to strike so he could try and calm it (it was a legit condition, he got it). Even if this break was only a whole half-hour, it was preferable to sitting out that extra forty minutes it took for the heiress to get ready (and that was when they were in a hurry).
Acting as a constant pillow and shoulder to cry on had its ups and downs, although it was difficult to remember what those merits were when the ground beneath their feet was crumbling away in larger and larger pieces.
Maybe if it had simply boiled down to dealing with a potential drinking problem, it would be fine, but at this rate, who even knew where the limit was? Keeping Sleeping Beauty fed and watered had been easy enough, and covering her in the middle of the night when she started to shiver wasn't completely asking too much, even though it was like eighty degrees in the room half the time.
There were so many little things, and they were all beginning to add up.
Although he supposed it hadn't been all that bad - the heiress truly did admire him something fierce, enough to jump when he gave the command. 'I trust you', she'd promised. Just like so many before. Questioning why he had ever put stock into the ramblings of a recovering drunk, the words echoed in the back of his mind, dripping with the forbidden.
I trust you... Hah, yeah, right.
Still, there had been some great moments along the way...
Restored to glorious technicolor for the twentieth century, Daniella had put it on a marathon of old Betty Boop cartoons before falling asleep; roughly halfway through the third one, Sam had also dozed off. Jerking up from his nap due to a continuous crunching noise, it was to find his roommate waving apologetically from the foot of the bed, a half-eaten cookie in hand.
Feeling bad for disturbing his nap, the heiress offered the sugary confection with only the slightest of hesitation - the catch being that she had expected him to come get it from her. Closing his eyes and throwing the spare pillow at her head, the ex-con peeked under his lashes when he felt the bed shifting.
Cookie clenched in her teeth so as to not break or lose it on the journey, sweet crumbs were getting everywhere, but that was the help's problem, right? Curious to know what the hell the little girl thought she was going to do as she dragged herself along the cotton landscape, he attempted to take the snack once it was close enough to grab.
Holding her ground with a jaw of goddamn steel, Dells resisted and pulled it back, apparently forgetting that she was the one that had offered her cookie in the first place. And that she was in fact a human with opposable thumbs and wits to dazzle. Between her tugging her half harder than she'd meant to and him refusing to throw in the towel, it was the cookie itself that settled matters, breaking between the two.
Tumbling over the side of the mattress, Dells only had herself to blame for flipping off the bed. Prize in hand, after a moment of gloating he had peered over the edge to check on the loser, only to find her holding up her half in victory.
His half was still bigger though. Oh, and the girl was fine.
Another example of good times between the two was when he got to savor the misty warmth that spread from her solo showers, creeping up his neck and enveloping him in a thick blanket of steam. Sure, he might have adequate reason to gripe about the amount of time she spent pruning, or even bemoan the fact that she would call out to him every ten minutes to make sure he was still there, but overall Sam didn't really hate that part.
Getting to hear the relief washing over her every single time he gave her the all-clear, there were some unexpected perks that came with the routine. Phone out nearly the entire time, it was a great time to check his mail, listen to old messages, and catch-up with what the others were all up to.
Once he had pulled up one of those personality tests for them to take, but neither one had any clue what they were being compared to. His excuse was that he had spent a good chunk of time in prison and had fallen so far behind pop culture that it was useless to even try and catch up, but what was hers? Only partially rhetorical, it seemed that the princess in her ivory tower had chosen to stick with either books or old things that her parents would have grown up with.
Things, it turned out, that he also was passingly familiar with.
Time, it seemed, had stopped for him around the time that he and his little brother had left their old lives (and name) behind. For the heiress, it stopped long before it had ever really started. And here Sam had thought that he and Nathan were special for chasing after dead guys for the better part of their lives, when Dells had been born into it.
Dells... Shutting his eyes in defiance of the midday glow penetrating through the heavy curtains, the thief tossed on his side in the hopes that the new position might calm his mind and allow his body to rest. It was wishing in vain, praying for rain in the Atacama Desert (or, any desert for that matter), freedom from prison when the whole world thinks that you're a dead man. In other words, it was a long shot.
Groaning to himself and letting his mind wander, it wasn't long before his brain picked back up where it had left off, finding other moments that just might be worth remembering when this was all said and done.
Like today. Or, rather this morning. Walking the drenched lanes in the wee hours, the visible moonlight highlighting every puddle, the stars too busy dancing in the sky to dry the desolate streets. And after. Sam didn't think he could forget what came after if he had tried, their bodies lined up in the grove for extraterrestrial abduction, peels of merriment hovering above the forest floor. Talking to her had been so easy then... How had things gone so wrong since that morning?
Right, the Orange Tiger had come prowling through the woods for its bride, and the ghosts he'd thought he'd left on 'The Fancy' had returned for one final show. Definitely solidifying her status as a runner, the young woman had cut when he'd finished his story, and somehow things ended up with a certain rugged explorer getting knocked unconscious. Waking up cradled against her bosom, Sam thought for a moment that he might have seen something flit across her face when he stirred, but... he must have been mistaken.
Clearly Dells could only hate him for taking away her daddy, for bursting her bubble of a utopia where Rafe wasn't a complete asshole. Not that the thief could entirely blame her for feeling that way when all the harsh facts of life were raining down at once.
So then why had Dells entertained his jokes afterwards? Joking around (mostly), Sam's intention had been to make things at least look normal, and she'd done more than go along with it... she had actually... almost... Try and puzzle it out as he might, the historian was at an honest loss.
Pinned below him, their bodies were melded as close as their clothes had allowed, a seamless line with the directive to grind away the thoughts that were too loaded to visit. Hip to hip, the friction was almost tangible when he gazed sidelong at the scene of the crime, her body primed to go off in time with his own. Pelvis-to-pelvis, just so long as nothing happened to ruin the pace, he could have been fine with a dry hump, with their bodies rubbing against each other until neither one could take it any more and they both collapsed on top of one another in a useless heap...
Shattered beyond understanding, just thinking of that moment was enough to stir his blood, to be acutely aware of the fact that he was alone, and would be for hours. No, the historian tried to be firm with himself, however, the baser shade inside had the wisdom to see that he would much rather be firm with himself. Trying to think of literally anything else, Sam rolled over again so that he was on his back, is it too much to ask to just wanna sleep?!
Who was he kidding? Sleep wasn't coming.
[Mermaid Sexxx Dreams]
Curtain wall broken down into candy boulders, the Nerds were arranged by color; orange forming the base, the wall was a mosaic, forming a dancing kaleidoscope of sweets. Ransacked long ago, the ancient line of defense had collapsed in the middle, allowing room for frolicking... and romancing.
Colossal, cracked stone pillars airlifted from Greece had replaced every last palm tree in sight, statues of various forgotten deities rising in place of a pine forest that had had the gall to creep up to the very edge of the ocean. Lighthouse victim to a storm of titanic makings, the top was lost to the bottom of the deep blue sea, the bottom weathered with tractable ledges perfect for shimmying. To top it all off, with no one else present to maintain it, the guard tower was left standing empty.
Lunar swatch in constant danger of being swallowed by the ravenous tide, instead of portable folding chairs there were fossilized skeletons with great open maws waiting to snap shut without notice. Shark for the most part, there was an assortment of human craniums atop the rise, painted up as sugar skulls and waiting to pass down judgement.
Deep sapphire and eternally restless, the sea was manned by a battalion of Neptune's children; wild men with seaweed woven into thick beards and topless women adorned by seashells and other fallen treasures. Eyes glowing every so slightly, these beings were most notable characterized by their gills and fins - several of them bore heavy damage and were ragged with battle scars, even the females. Still, they were breathtakingly beautiful, no siren call required.
"There she is!" A scout cried out at the sight of a human-figure alone on the beach, alerting the mob.
Raspy above water, the shrill shrieks were easy enough to understand when they were all sinister and aimed at the young woman in the silken ball gown. Hair changing between a rich umber and a shimmering star, the one thing about the princess that held true was the color of her eyes. They were just like her father's.
"Avenge our people!"
"Spill her royal blood on the rocks!"
"Take her prisoner and throw away the key!"
"Send her bloated, rotting corpse back to her father once he pays her ransom!"
Alarming, the outcry was only growing angrier with each new suggestion, and it was overwhelming enough for the princess from the start, freezing her in place. Struggling to run away but unable to move her own two feet, she tried to tell the advancing merfolk that it was useless, that her father didn't love her enough to pay any ransom. Nothing coming out of the porcelain mask covering her face, to her horror the royal found that she had also lost her voice.
Prepared to meet death once and for all, the princess held her head as high as her fear would allow.
And... nothing. One second stretching into two like molasses on an especially frigid day in Scotland, the creatures let out a single unified hiss as a heroic silhouette came up from the low rise to the south. Without even seeing who this fortunate happenstances even was, the young woman knew in her heart: it was her valiant knight.
The stories were true after all!
Dreaming of who else, an adventurer with silver peppering his brown locks turned from the spiteful watchers in the sea to greet the princess. Shield strapped to his back and sword held high at the enemy, he need only glare at the merfolk to make them think twice; his gaze had even frightened one or two back into their father's raging arms. Coming closer to the princess, the ostentatious golden halo lighting the man from behind made him seem holy, and yet, there was only sin in those hazel islands. Such sweet sin...
Virtue all but surrendered at a single glance, the princess proceeded to introduce herself, forgetting that she lacked lips to speak. But it seemed that he had a cure for that as well, presumptuously caressing the back of her jaw bone and pulling away not the flesh but a glass mask, "I'm guessing you won't be needing this anymore. Or this."
Fingers deft as only the best thief's could be, he also plucked at the flimsy string holding the velvet cloak splayed across her shoulders. Flying away into a starry sky filled with clouds of balloons the color of rose and washed out lapis, the inky midnight fabric flapped through the air like some monstrous bird, sailing away far out of reach. Not paying it the slightest bit of attention, her gaze was locked upon that cocky grin, the man challenging her to do something about his brash actions.
Something like hotly grabbing him by his collar, fingers carbon steel as they wrapped around the rough material of the humble garb, her motions rough as she yanked him forward. Lacking reservation of any kind, the princess pulled the knight against her until there was nothing but the bare minimum between, their lips crashing like thunder that split the sea.
Teeth gnashing in the all-important war for dominance, the when and how weren't inherently obvious, only that she yielded to the relentless probing of his tongue across her mouth. Swiping the fleshy muscle in a silent ask for permission, he knew exactly what it was he wanted.
Somewhat less sure, her hands danced up from the stiff collar to the back of his head, fingers threading through the auburn thicket. Collar not the only rigid part she was pressing herself against, her thigh moved experimentally between the two, albeit the motion was somewhat hindered by the satin of her skirts and the armor he donned for protection. Nipping coquettishly at his lower lip while the unnamed knight pulled the woman closer, the princess leaned into their shared body heat, reveling in the divinely blistering radiation as it unfurled between them.
Lower, it withered and seared, spilling out with invisible tendrils that consumed everything in their path, coiling each limb and boiling the unquenchable force of life inside into scarlet lust. Roaring like the molten spike in their blood, the tide crashed over a stony shore, washing the grainy sand at their feet, water level rising with them.
Ankle-deep at first, the sable flood was modest, yet it was not to last that way for long; ebb drawing back maybe an eighth of the way, the flow returned in exponential increments, lashing back and forth until the two were waist-deep. Thicker than even the saltiest of the salt seas, this was magic, a small slice of the space between the stars.
"That's one way to say hello." Not complaining by any means, the knight blinked at the princess, intrigued that a royal could be so rough.
Threat all but forgotten in an unwashed mirror to another life, he returned the favor by tearing her out of her dress completely. Fabric ripping beneath his well-honed hands with concerting ease and a noise that sent a reverberating tingle down her core, the rent silk slid through his fingertips, cascading down her skin, shining as it tumbled down her bare figure. Collecting at her waist, the silver belt keeping her skirts in place was quick to follow suit, the jewels dangling from the end glimmering as they vanished beneath the all-consuming void. Just to be sure that there wasn't yet another obstacle to get in their way, the knight impatiently yanked at the material bunched around the young woman's waist, tearing it down to the non-existent blackness as well.
Finally freeing her from the sinful nature of the cloth, the valiant paladin smirked at the princess as if he knew something that she did not. Captivating as the sight might have been, the duchess and the knight were more interested in studying one another as the moon rose up behind them, a vast snowy orb with death in its eye.
Despite wearing his years like a badge to prove his achievement and experience, he was strikingly handsome; tall, sturdy as a mighty oak in the heart of the deepest woods, and most importantly of all, he looked dangerous. Nothing at all like the suitors seeking to own the key to the kingdom... No, this one might not have had the purest of intentions, but that wasn't his goal.
"Forgive me, good sir, I know not where my manners went. Mayhaps you could help me find them?" Misplaced no doubt, the princess had a very clear idea of where they might start the search.
"I suppose I could, for M'lady." Suave, his lips pressed against the back of her wrist, the inside of her elbow, the ball-hinge of her shoulder. Not utterly repulsed by what he saw to judge from the way he stared, the knight unceremoniously attacked her chest with kisses, peppering the clavicle with light brushes and nipping at the collarbone with increasing force. "Nah, it's not here."
"Keep looking, if you would. I know they must be somewhere nearby." About to say that she never left home without them, that might have given him too much information... After all, he could have been a spy, or some kind of mad murderer. Thinking to herself that he was wearing too many clothes himself, the princess gasped as if a blade had been slipped underneath her rib when he found the rose on her shoulder.
Pearl tinted the lightest shade of magenta before fading into a ghostly bone paler and more pure than her waiting wedding gown, where it was pink the color bled into a lush crimson that fit the mood. "Screw your manners. I found something better." Zealously kissing each petal of the full bloom, the knight saved the heart for last, "You oughtta wear this out more often. M'Lady looks so mouthwatering, I could just eat her whole."
"Promise?" Voice unnaturally seductive and husky, she could feel the weight of his arms as he crushed her against him, could practically taste the ashes in his mouth as he kissed in lieu of a real answer.
Troublesome as that might have rang down the line, the princess could almost feel her many titles being stripped away, yet she found that she couldn't care in the slightest - she only needed her knight. Touching her, caressing her... And hopefully a lot more. Matters of state going one by one, instead the young jewel found herself wondering why it was so condemned to want to feel this good. Envious of the painted women that had owned the night, the princess understood why else they might have done what they did. Perhaps the kingdom had been too quick to call for their heads.
Holding her tighter and tighter until it felt like she would burst, all that mattered in the moment was that he never let her go. Not ever again. "Go on then, do it. Do it all. After all, what is a woman once she loses her manners?"
Giving up already, his dark hazel gaze seemed to inquire of her.
Eyes closing as the man placed his face between her breasts to leave his mark, she couldn't help but whimper out pathetically as his hands began to knead the low hills. Thumbs rolling across her nipples to make them stiffen in the balmy summer air where they were exposed for anyone to see, she saw to the removal of that final pesky hindrance that kept them parted.
Cut low and laced haphazardly at best, the poet shirt came off and over the man's head easily enough, bunching in her fists as it was removed. It was a much more pleasant sight that way - somehow, seeing him so clothed was just wrong. Roaming lower with a purpose, it wasn't long after that she avenged her fine silken dress by tearing through the laces of his navy breeches. Nails dragging along the length of his outer thigh as she stripped her partner, he pinched at her nipples appreciatively.
"Please..." A flustered flutter that escaped from soft lips, it was unclear if the princess's words were merely an afterthought to her previous statement or a request. Either way, he was all too willing to oblige.
Shed of his only worldly burden, the knight grinned wolfishly before making a snack of her chest. Tongue twirling atop the shy bud, the noises she made at his his exploration were the very definition of encouragement, the rose quartz nails against his scalp a bonus that only made him want to devour her that much sooner.
Bringing his right hand down her side and along modest feminine curves, the nameless lord of the sword kept traveling as south as south could go, tracing the way along her hips with a tantalizing gait. Cocksure smirk growing the further he descended down her body, by the time that his ring finger found her wanting slit, the simpering princess was already soaked. Soaked enough to plunge an entire armored gauntlet into, mayhaps?
Or perhaps that was merely Poseidon's divine doing. Making the most of the situation regardless, the man lazily traced her outermost fold, stopping shy of her public mound.
"You're a naughty little girl, ain't cha?" Enchanted by his own hyperbole, even though his accent was factually at odds with the apparent time, the beautiful thing was that she thought he made it work. To be fair, if he kept teasing the entrance to her womanhood like he was, the knight was going to make her lose her mind. In that event, it wouldn't have mattered what he sounded like...
Cheeks blushing a rosy cherubim pink, plausible deniability was the first line of defense, "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Arching a thick auburn brow at the young woman, the man ceased his palming and stared down into her eyes, "Oh? So you're saying that you don't want me to keep going?"
Aggressive as to not breed vulnerability, her hands seized a fistful of his hair and yanked on it, praying that that would be enough to get him moving again. Dancing by herself had gotten the job done in the past, but the knight had stoked a fire that was too bright, too white-hot and out-of-control for any one person to handle by themselves. Grinding her hips up to his heavens so that there was still any kind of delicious friction, she shook her head wildly against his chest.
Prepared to beg, the princess knew that it was her duty to say no, to hold firm and do what was the good and right thing, yet... As the next in line for the throne, the Her Royal Majesty (in training) couldn't go around just giving her heart out to every handsome knight - there were certain expectations that came with her rank. But how was she supposed to help herself when even the slightest touch engulfed her very soul, setting every nerve-ending alight with a million sparks? Originating from the darkest center of her core, she needed more...
Kiss almost vampiric in nature, his mouth suckled at the bulb on the end of her sternum, each second it lingered bringing her another step closer to insanity. Combining that with the teasing strokes he was using against the labia, the knight upped the ante by bringing his free hand to her thigh. Thumb drawing patterns of ruins and pirate maps on the soft skin, he slowly pivoted her leg outwards, further and further until there was room enough for him between her womanhood.
"No..." Robbing the princess before he could teach her what real pleasure was, the knight drew away from the young woman just as she was on the verge of giving in. Free hand cupping her face, he brought the other up to her eye-level, the digit slick and shining where it had been touching her. "Not until you say it."
Offering the princess a taste of herself, there was a less angelic voice goading her on from some unseen vantage point, "Say you're a naughty little slut."
"Tell him you want it." Cold, calculating, and commanding, a second voice played inside her ear, too far to be the knight and too crisp to be one of the merfolk. "You know you're as good as his already."
Booming and terrible, a third spectator could be heard whispering its influence, an amalgamation of all the leering peasants and cursing wise men that had been banished from the kingdom, "You know what you are, stop trying to fight it. Fight him. Say it! Say it now!"
"I..." Feeling herself slipping back in his arms, when the princess hesitated she saw the liquid obsidian mooring them in place, which only served to fuel her doubts, "I... do... But I shouldn't."
Disappointment stamped across his face in oozing white wax, the knight clung to the princess for a final lingering moment, their gazes meeting in bittersweet melancholy. An island trapped in a glacial storm of ice, he traced the side of her long face, leaving a moist trail in his wake. Expecting a better answer than what he had gotten, the man sighed at her answer before letting her go.
As the young woman fell back into the water she fractured into a thousand tiny pieces, tripping through sheets of cobalt lace and opaque jet, igniting in open flame. Blue fire the only kind befitting a royal, the singed remains that could not burn so easily curled into blackened petals. Shattered in every conceivable fashion, the only parts of the bloom that had been spared the worst of the magic were the roses that the knight had blessed.
Each destined to drift in a different direction, far away to parts unknown, the scant bit that remained of the princess was everywhere - cast out to a violent sea and nowhere, lost forever in transit. Nothing gained and everything lost, the princess didn't even have the time to cry over her own sad fate. It... was written, and so it would be.
Twin stars sparkled in the moonlight, shooting across the pond before skittering across the stratosphere, glittering silver as they ascended.
Author's Note:
This is it, that idea I was married to so many chapters ago, the grand special I wanted to give everyone for Chapter 69/75. Well, half of it. Turns out that certain parts ended up being longer than anticipated, not to mention that the middle two sprang up from out of nowhere. I mean geez, here I am trying to write some smut, and whaddya know, character development happens instead! Urgh, the nerve, am I right?! lol Seriously though, it is quite ironic.
Spending days trying to get through 'Mermaid Sexxx Dreams', something wasn't working, so I decided to try another approach. The same day that I had an unshakable dream about Troy Baker being some kind of teacher of mine, or something like that (wanna say it was for art or life or debate? I dunno, hours later the exact details are a little fuzzy, I just remember that it was largely innocent, nothing at all like Jay and Dells). The same day that they announced the official release date for TLOU2. Coincidence? I might have said yes, if it were only two of those factors. But all three on the same day? I dunno... Speaking of that "different approach", turns out that just meant adding Sam and the other Dells before it, chopping the opening for the section, and reworking it only a little bit. Who knew?