This chapter is heavy with explicit, fan-servicey elements.
Less subtley stated, this would read 'Warning: Unrestrained, Rampant Sexy Times Ahead'.
So, if you're not really into that, you may want to skip this one.
There are some story-related revelations in the first 1/3rd of the chapter, but everything after the phrase 'We'll need a bed' is pure sack-romping fun times and can safely be skipped without missing anything story-wise.
01-Unburdened
Sobervre's eyes slip open, revealing to him the twinkling stardust stretched across the void's endless expanse. His lips twist in a cruel and satisfied smirk.
"Well. That went better than I could've hoped." The unsettling grin stretched across his face lifts further, reaching its apex, before he lets out a deep and full-throated chuckle. "And now, it's not my problem anymore…"
Following it with a contented sigh.
"And I can't even remember what it is anymore." He scoffs. "Shame. Or so I'd say, if that weren't the whole point of this tiresome exercise."
Like a feather in the wind, the ephemeral shades of some memory dance outside his mind's peripheries, just beyond his reach. A void now fills the space where something once dwelled. And all he can recall of it is that the void itself serves its purpose in taking the place where those memories once dwelled. Deep, painful, and refusing to heal, even after so many years.
But now cauterized, scorched clean by a cleansing flame, leaving little more than faded scars. Still, while contemplating the void in his mind, his wide grin and full-throated chuckle cease. The former, dropping into a despondent scowl while the latter ends with a heavy sigh.
Though some small part of me can't help but wonder. What was it that pained me so, that I would scorch it from my mind like this…? Was it truly so burdensome?
Sobervre clicks his tongue as he muses on the matter.
"I know that I owe it to that man in blue with the lance of red." He threads his fingers, then leans his head back into them. "After his snide remark, and my wholly unhinged response, it was all too clear that those experiences had to go…"
Born of unease, and a bit of boredom, another sigh hisses through his pressed lips until something else grips his attention. The space nearby ripples, and there forms a dark, swirling vortex.
And through it steps the other reason he'd done what he did.
"Aeylida…"
Seeing her here in this space, his scowl melts, and the wide grin it had usurped returns in full force as he turns to greet her. As the portal seals closed, she fixes her cloak, getting it in place around her borrowed form's fancy dress.
"Sobervre? I thought you were going to seal this place?"
Surprise fills her voice as she finds her attempted entry unthwarted. She'd only meant to see if he'd done what he said he'd do, and Sobervre gives a half-hearted shrug.
"Meant to. Just never got around to it…" Smoothly, he glides across the space toward his counterpart. "And full glad am I that I was so otherwise preoccupied."
"Sobervre—?!"
Before she can think, or even react, he's tracing her jawline with the tip of his gloved finger. For the unexpectedness of it, she can feel her face flush crimson. Despite the face floating a half-breath's distance from hers being unfamiliar, the man behind it is one with whom she's intimately well acquainted, and it's his presence she can sense, and his true face she can recall.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
Everything he'd said yesterday still rings fresh in her mind. His inability or unwillingness to reciprocate. All the reasons. And the implied unlikeliness that those facts would ever change.
The contradiction between that and her current situation leave her lost for words.
Fortunately for the both of them, Sobervre has never been one to long leave silence undisturbed.
"I think you've waited long enough. Don't you, Aeylida?"
The past day, it was her tone rife with suggestion. It's now his which is as subtle as a Primal's arrival. Even though the form she now inhabits is not her original, he still finds it lovely. And combined with the one occupying it being one toward whom his now unburdened heart feels powerfully drawn, it's all he can do to hold himself back.
"Y-yes, I'd agree, but what about everything you said yesterday!?" She reaches her hand up and, with it, pulls his down. "You're acting like a completely different person!"
Startled falls short in describing her feelings. With her eyes so wide, and her brow so high it lifts the crimson mask on her face, anyone could tell. And it doesn't help that she's used to being the one making the advances.
Not the one being advanced upon.
"Perhaps I am, Aeylida…" Sobervre says coolly, cupping her hand with his as he turns his palm over, so their palms, gloved though they are, can rest against each other. "What burdened me so, I can no longer effectively recall. I've cast it asunder. Forcefully. It's now another's problem."
"Y-you did what?!" Stunned, Aeylida withdraws her hand. "Reckless idiot! How? WHY?!"
"Well? Which should I answer first?" Grinning eagerly, he twirls in place, as if dancing with some imagined presence. "The why, then! Certainly… Well, from what I can recall, myself and one of those Servants yesterday had a bit of a pissing match. One thing led to another, and he spoke something which touched a rather tender spot in my mind."
He ends his twirl, letting his cloak and hood come to a rest, then turns to face Aeylida again.
"And so I thought it not prudent to continue bearing such a dangerous vulnerability. Of course, there is also the more… evident reason."
Again, he glides across the small space his antics had placed between them. And he reaches his hand out, finding Aeylida's more receptive now than it seemed before as he threads his fingers through hers.
"Now, as for the how? I'm certain I don't need to explain to you the Echo's power, or how intertwined it is with the soul, yes?"
With his fingers laced between hers, he lifts both their arms overhead. Hesitantly, she allows him to spin her in place.
He's always been… erratic… But I think this is the first time I've seen him so elated since his return to the convocation…!
"And of course, there's how intractable memories are with the soul itself! The Echo's power made severing those memories from myself a trifle matter!"
"But… Sobervre, that's incredibly dangerous!" She brings their small dance to an end and pulls back a slight distance. "It could've damaged your soul's aetherial balance! Even left you as a wholly different person! And I'm uncertain that isn't the case!"
"Well worth the risk, I assure you. And even more so do I assure you I'm as hale and healthy as I've ever been. Aside from the dark spot in my mind where the memory used to be, everything is as it should be."
"But why so drastic a measure?!" Aeylida shakes her head in disbelief. "Certainly, you could've just sealed—"
"Dearest Aeylida. You know as full well as I that seals can weaken. And with sufficient coaxing, they can shatter like fragile glass." Still holding her hand, her fingers between his own, he draws her close again. "And besides that, from what I learned a couple of days past, it seemed it could be to our advantage to leave them in someone else's care… Muaha!"
His sudden, manic giggle catches her off guard. But to this point, everything he's said lines up well with the man she's known for lifetimes, and for whom she's nurtured a burning desire.
He's always been reckless… Even his coming here… We didn't fully understand, but he did well in convincing them what he found was worth the risk. But that he'd do something like this—!?
Suddenly, she finds herself pulled closer, and Sobervre reaches up with his hand, pulling aside her mask and revealing her borrowed form's dazzling crystal blue eyes. Running his finger again down her smooth jawline, stopping briefly at the dark beauty mark below her mouth. Pulling back her hood and letting his fingers drift through her silken hair.
"I don't think you could've picked a more fetching form, Aeylida…" He heaves out a sigh filled with a lifetime of regret. "And I was a fool to let such trivial matters stop me from seeing it. And from seeing you."
He lets his fingers rest at her chin, drawing her in ever closer, while pulling aside his own mask, revealing his form's listless gray eyes and face, patchy with two-day stubble. Her eyes slide closed in anticipation, but one thought still burns brighter than her desire.
"Have you truly forgotten…? You no longer recall?"
Sobervre's mouth lifts into a full smile, free from whatever it was which weighed it down so heavily. Unable to change his nature, he plays it off with another tasteless joke.
"Forgotten what?"
Before Aeylida can breathe out an exasperated sigh, a tender shock starting from her mouth, where he places his, spreads throughout her entire body, sundering doubt and rending concern. Whatever he's done to himself seems wholly to have been to his benefit.
And by extension, hers.
And she's unwilling to allow whatever misgivings she has about his decision to steal this moment, ages upon ages for which she's so longed.
Both Sobervre and Aeylida held seats among the Convocation of Fourteen. A group which oversaw the weightier matters among their people. That was before the Sundering, which had left their patron deity little more than a hollowed remnant. And neither was fortunate enough to be counted among the 'unsundered', those few who had survived that calamitous upheaval while also remaining whole.
But it didn't matter.
Their fragmented souls had persisted through countless reincarnative cycles, as souls on Hydaelyn are wont to do. Each time, washed clean of their memories and reborn into new forms. Over and over, until one of their unsundered kin happened upon and restored to them their sense of self.
Between them, Sobervre was the first, and it would be a few millennia before Aeylida was found and recovered. In that time, having grown wearisome of the repetitive cycles of strife, Sobervre left his place among the Convocation's found and founding members to seek peace in his own way.
So he was nowhere to be found when she returned.
And so there was nothing to stoke her memories of the man until much, much later, when he did finally return. Downcast, a shattered husk of a person who refused to speak of what made him so, he approached, hat-in-hand as it were, to beseech the council to allow him to return.
That was her first spark of recognition and realization that she and this man had some history in their lives before everything had been rent asunder. So, curious to know more, she cast her deciding vote to allow him to return.
There were other factors at play.
His bringing news of a device which could accelerate their plans, and his machinations to retrieve it. But for her, these were less relevant than drawing back the veil concealing what their lives had been, before the before times.
Time passed as they waited for the right opportunity, allowing the naysayers and dissenting voices to do what they would, and more of her memories of that time stirred. Eventually, she realized they'd been more than mere colleagues or associates on the council. That they'd been lovers, through and through. Something completely inseparable, were it not for the catastrophic events others would spend lifetimes trying to reverse.
Sobervre had realized it the moment he returned and felt her presence. But without ever explaining why, every shred of energy he had to spare was spent sealing those memories and desires away.
Until today.
Thoughts and memories, lifetimes of memories, flood their minds. The void in Sobervre's acts like a vacuum, pulling them in so they can take the place of what used to occupy that space in his mind and heart.
Neither seems willing to withdraw from their first kiss. One more first kiss, among a countless number. Until finally, reluctantly, Sobervre pulls back, savoring its sweet taste.
"You're still…" His eyes, which had pulled closed to better enhance the experience, gradually slide open. "This is still okay, right—?!"
"Don't say stupid things, idiot!"
Aeylida chides him unseriously before closing the brief distance between them, sealing his mouth closed and answering his needless, ridiculous question beyond any shadow of doubt while only a single thought remains centered in her mind.
We'll need a bed…
Minutes later, side by side in each other's tender embrace, both Aeylida and Sobervre gaze upon the other's exposed form, burning them into memory. Beneath them, the soft bed they'd willed into existence remains steady, as if anchored upon firm ground.
Anyone observing would question what they were seeing.
Aside from the open display of both tracing their bare hands and fingers across the other's nakedness, coming to learn each other's ins and outs, the sensitive places, the ones which evoke a twitch or pleasured writhe, there's the fact that the bed seems to float upon nothing.
With an ornate, oaken headboard, a pillowy mattress into which one could sink a full ilm before coming to rest, covered with crimson, silken sheets and a thick down comforter and two pillows, each of which would steal a persons consciousness seconds after coming to rest upon them. A bed fit for royalty, perhaps even the Sultana herself. And one that, with each movement, some subtle, others more pronounced, never yields space, neither dropping nor shaking from its place.
"Wait a moment, Sobervre…" Aeylida pulls back, frowning and wrinkling her nose. "When was the last time you bathed… that…?"
She gestures with her hand over his entire body, and he looks down at himself, checking his fingers, and frowning as well.
"Actually… That's a fair point. I don't think I—"
"Yes, I could tell." She sighs, shaking her head. "It's quite distracting. Something must be done about it."
"Well?" He folds his arms, sitting upright on their clean bedspread. "And you had something in mind?"
Smirking, she nods, and with a simple hand-wave, she propels him from their bed.
To his surprise and consternation.
"Now hold still." Her hands glow with aetherial light as she makes a few arcane gestures. "This should have you clean in short order."
"What are—?!"
Before he's finished his question, the aether surrounding her hands flashes blue. With a swift flick of her wrists, she launches it his way, inundating him in a powerful deluge of frigid, conjured water. She then spends a few moments willing the water through each nook and cranny, washing out every crumb.
Despite the water being so cold he can feel his testes shrivel, it's not enough to distract him. Or his eyes, which pull toward her generous bust as it shifts and sways invitingly with each subtle gesture she makes. The sight is invigorating, and what is, for all intents and purposes, his body has no trouble flooding and engorging itself below the waist with aether-infused blood.
After a few more gestures, making certain he's thoroughly scoured, Aeylida flicks the water away, vanishing it into the void. Still naked, and dripping from head to toe, Sobervre crosses his arms, showing a thoroughly unamused frown.
"Well done. And how do you suppose to dry—?!"
Again, Sobervre's question hangs unfinished. As before, only with another element this time, Aeylida conjures a powerful gust of wind, twisting it around him to pull away the remaining streams and droplets of water from his borrowed form's hair and body, leaving it thoroughly dry.
And a little ruffled.
The entire time the wind engulfs around him, his light frown never wavers, and his arms never uncross. Once it's finished, he glides over to the bed, still frowning, briefly, until, on finding his form no longer carries the acrid scent of the grave, Aeylida's sweet smile returns.
"Yes, that's much better…"
And with her words, and her satisfied smile, he finds it difficult to remain annoyed, instead pulling her slender, naked form into another long embrace, and burying what remains of his vexation in a light kiss.
One which doesn't remain so for long.
Unceasingly, they press into each other's lips. He takes hers between his, sucking gently on one, running his tongue across it. In kind, Aeylida slips her tongue along his lower lip, and both of theirs touch briefly, offering each other a small sample—hers tasting sweet, like cherries while his carries heavy and thick the smell and taste of tobacco.
Yet despite the malodorous assault, she finds comfort in it, until he pulls away. Expecting things to progress deeper, she lets her eyes slip closed, opening her mouth in anticipation. So when nothing happens, she's forced to open her eyes again, showing a small, confused frown. What she sees, Sobervre casting his gaze to one side, his mouth quite closed and twisted in a vexed frown, only deepens her confusion.
"Sobervre? What's—"
"I don't like that…" he mutters, wrinkling his brow.
And now he's handed her a shovel of sorts, with which she digs further into her uncertainty.
"Don't like…? What, kissing?"
"No, not that," he says, his frown deepening as he shakes his head. "I'd be a fool to dislike that. I meant… you know, the deeper stuff."
To illustrate his meaning, he sticks his tongue out fully, rolling it around and making a face which turns her utter confusion into a small fit of giggles.
"It always felt gross," he grumbles, running his hand uncomfortably through his hair as he expresses himself frankly. "Hot and uncomfortable… And I never knew when to pull back and breathe."
If before Aeylida had been chuckling, his straightforward honesty has her holding her sides, shaking with laughter.
"'Ber, if you don't like that, we don't have to—"
"No, it's fine…" he mutters, sighing and forcing away his frown. "I'm not even sure why I said it. If it's something you like, I can put that aside."
Sobervre looks back at Aeylida, finding her wiping from her eyes some of the forming tears which had been pooling around their corners, then smiling and nodding. His willingness to set aside his own preference is just one thing which drew her to him. Remembering this, she reaches out, seizing him by the chin and pulling him into a full, open-mouthed kiss.
This one starts more subtly, and as they ease into it, he relaxes. The whiskers scattered across his face shift subtly under the breath rushing out through her nose, washing over him, intoxicating him with its scent.
Then something more.
Something soft, passing between his lips, entering his opened mouth and pressing into his tongue.
And there it… is…? Eh…?
He's about to roll his eyes and bear it, but something about this time proves different from his fragmented memories of the other times he'd invited another's tongue into his mouth.
It's… cooler? Is she…?
As Aeylida breathes out through her mouth, the temperature in his own dips a few degrees.
She's mixing ice-aspected aether in with…? That's just… That's ingenious!
Elated, he reciprocates, pressing his tongue into hers, swirling it around and enjoying the sweet scent and taste of her cooling breath. Any minor complaints or concerns are swept away, reduced to inconsequential afterthoughts by the cooling effect of the icy air radiating through his mouth.
After a minute, they break to draw breath, both panting deeply and washing each other in fevered and chilled breaths.
Sobervre lays Aeylida on their conjured bedspread to take his time, discovering all there is to know about her borrowed form. Yet as he traces paths with his fingers from Aeylida's neck down to her chest, her breasts, encircling her stiffening nipples with a touch more delicate than a feather, other memories, those of the bodily form he's now inhabited for a full day and change, encroach with aggravating frequency.
This man was a bit of a bastard, wasn't he? Bonded, yet keeping that other woman on the side. Truly, someone with few redeeming qualities.
But as it's been such a long time since he's partaken of another in this way, so long he can't recall with whom, and only able to conjure a vague shadow of a memory about the event (Perhaps it was among those memories I did away with…), he delves fully into the man's mind, exploiting his experiences and using them for his own.
Tch. As if I needed such things.
On the other side, Aeylida's form writhes in pleasure under his ceaseless caress, but also as she battles with its own memories. Unbidden thoughts intrude. Of times and places where, while still in the care of its original owner, her delicate form had been subjected to greedy hands which desired little more than to sate their own endless appetites.
Memories which threaten to supplant her own, and she shakes her head, willing them away.
Hers was indeed a tragic life. But this form is mine now, and I will not allow this time to be spoiled by irrelevant things!
Pleasant tremors ripple through her, from her breasts where fingers lightly tap, touch and trace, all the way to her toes, which stretch and curl. She then gasps as he grasps her breasts, pushing together her dark, stiffened peaks. Looking down, she finds both in the unfamiliar figure's mouth.
Though unable to see it happening, she can feel the rough caress of his tongue as he rolls it across both, savoring their pleasant taste before nipping them between his teeth.
"Careful! That… hurt a bit…" she says, turning her head and flushing red.
Sobervre lifts his head from his small meal, showing an apologetic frown.
"Sorry… It's been a while. I'm having some trouble restraining myself…"
More gently now, he separates them, taking one fully in each hand, centering their ample mass in his palms, and their tips between his fingers so that he can affect them in their entirety. He presses into them, massaging one while squeezing and kneading the other. The differences between her breasts, smooth and soft, and her nipples, stiff and rough, are pronounced. Especially with the former in his palms, while the latter brushes against the sides of his fingers. And the entire time, he's unable to divert his gaze from what he holds in his hands. Like they were some priceless treasure.
With each passing second, he becomes more engorged as his own arousal becomes increasingly clear.
Stiff and heated.
Gradually, each motion elicits from Aeylida a soft, breathy gasp or moan. Some low, and others bordering on near pitched squeals. Each lasts briefly before vanishing into the surrounding void. Finally, unable to yield, Sobervre buries his face fully in her valley, mashing both her breasts into each side of his face, inhaling deeply and becoming drunk with her scent.
Frowning, she winces as his stubble scratches each of her valley's hills.
If he was going to do such a thing… We really should see him clean-shaved for next time.
His mouth parts, and he places a full, open-mouthed kiss between them, running his tongue along her skin, indulging in the taste and how her skin frissons at the sudden stimulus.
"I love this taste…" he mutters, dazed, half to her, half to himself.
The words come in a tone she's certain she's seldom heard him use. One brimming with unrestrained longing. With them, the minor irritation of the scratching stuble vanishes. Paralyzed with pleasure, all she can do is stare down at him, gripping and twisting the bed's covering with both her hands until it's pulled loose from the mattress. She's unable even to form the words to reply, only letting out another deep, euphoric moan.
While he holds one of her breasts in his grip, lapping with his tongue before opening his mouth fully and taking all he can, he traces down from her chest toward her abdomen with his free hand. He doesn't prolong the journey, reaching his target in just a few seconds, finding it searing and saturated. The second his fingers arrive, she breathes out in surprise, and he releases his mouth's grip as he looks up.
Shades of red tints Aeylida's complexion. But it's neither shame nor embarrassment, if the look in her eyes, one of full expectancy, is any sign. Sobervre gives only a slight nod before parting her opening and sliding his fingers through and inside.
If the outside was a jungle, then the inside would be a rain forest during a monsoon. Scorching, and he can feel her fluids run out onto their bed the second he gives them the chance. Each time he moves his fingers, it produces an unmistakable sound from below. A wet slosh, not unlike the first produced by a tub filled with steaming water as one immerses oneself after a long, hard day.
Aeylida's eyes slam shut as he slides his fingers inside, spreading and reaching in as far as he's able. His entry evokes from her an even more pronounced tremor from her waist to her quivering lips, which part, releasing another gasp.
"That feels… amazing… Sobervre…!" Twisting their sheets, she breathes out his name. "I feel like… I've waited forever… for this…!"
"Too long, Aeylida…" Sobervre nods in agreement, putting in more effort and focus, while he resumes squeezing her breast with his hand. "I can only hope my technique hasn't gotten stale."
Aeylida chuckles, then gasps out another moan.
"No… It's fantastic…"
Despite her saying this, she reaches her hand down toward his, withdrawing him from within herself. And it's now his turn to be confused. First looking at his hand, staring at the shining, slick fluid still coating it, he then looks up, tilting his head.
"Aeylida? What happened? I thought you said—?"
"I did…"
She pulls in her legs, then rests her shins on the bed. Supporting herself with her arms, she crawls toward him with a look in her eyes and on her face that betrays her intent so thoroughly he has a hard time swallowing the hard lump it puts in his throat.
"Um… I wasn't finished… I was planning on—"
"Just shut up, 'Ber."
Rolling her eyes, she sighs, then grins like a cat as she pushes his forehead, sending him tumbling backward. He winces, anticipating the impact of the bed's frame against his back, but it doesn't come. Instead, he floats in the air, ilms above it, feeling two soft hands gripping his ankles, pulling him. Whatever magic Aeylida weaved to suspend him ends, and he falls the small distance from the air, deep into their mattress.
He lifts his head to look down, and swallows again.
Hard.
Between his legs stands something erect which Aeylida eyes with hungry anticipation.
"Um… You don't have to—"
"I said, shut up…" she says unseriously, widening her grin even further. "After all, I scrubbed you clean for a reason."
No other words leave his lips before she wraps her slender fingers around his stiff, burning shaft. Though the touch is light, it still sends through him an elated quake. What follows is only anxious anticipation.
"Well… I mean, if you insist—!"
As if she'd needed his permission.
Pulling back her long, silken hair, she threads it behind her ear. She then opens her mouth fully, lowering it toward his heated head, from which already expectantly gathers a clear, naturally lubricating fluid.
But she doesn't take it in immediately, instead running her warm, smooth tongue along his shaft's base and underside. His body's reaction to the subtle motion is anything but. Though held in her grip, his shaft still sways, rocked by a sudden tremor, and disturbing the gathered globule, sending it down in streams over her hand, fingers and tongue.
She withdraws briefly, trying to process the taste.
I wouldn't call it pleasant… But at least it's not offensive.
Again, she brushes back her hair, and Sobervre's eyes widen, almost gape, as he watches his member vanish from sight, swallowed whole. The sight of it, combined with the sensation of her tongue caressing his shaft, and her throat constricting on his head, thunders another trembling shock through his entire body.
"G-God's be good, Aeylida!" Under any other circumstances, an Ascian wouldn't allow this expression to leave his lips, but Sobervre is in no frame of mind to care. His hands fly to his face, and he presses his palms into his eyes. "If you go so far, so soon, I'll—!"
But she doesn't stop. Instead, as if impelled by his heightening pleasure, she continues swirling her tongue around his pole, while massaging the head with her throat.
More of his thick juices ooze from the tip of his head, mixing with those already pouring from Aeylida's mouth. She pays neither much consideration. Focusing her attention on varying her movements, she withdraws some. Not enough to free him, but enough to hold his head in her mouth, where she can roll her tongue along the tip and crown. That strange taste, stronger than before, again coats her tongue, but she pays it little mind.
It has been a while for him. So it would be a shame to waste it like this… And there is something I've been wanting to try.
Sobervre looks down as the overwhelming sensations assailing his brain through his cock stop, and his eyes widen at what he next sees. Aeylida, positioning herself rather peculiarly, pressing her feet against the bed's headboard, laying on her stomach, and bringing her chest—both her radiant, ample breasts—up to his twitching, throbbing member.
"Ah—what?"
"Oh, please, 'Ber." She grins as she buries his stiff, slippery shaft deep within her cleavage. "You've been in this world for so long, you had to know this was a thing. And they do it in ours, too."
"Well, yes, but—oh, seven hells and gods above!"
They're the only words his distracted mind can push through his mouth as he's pressed from both sides, enveloped by smooth, pillowy softness and warmth. With it being the first time Aeylida has done such a thing, her movements start stiff and awkward.
But it matters little.
Just knowing what's happening, Sobervre has to impose on every shred of his will to keep himself from exploding.
Gradually, her movements become smooth, and she finds a satisfying rhythm as she slides her breasts sandwiched around his masculinity up and down, pressing them together to provide adequate pressure, and allowing what eagerly spills forth from the tip to coat her like a shining lacquer, reducing friction and heightening sensitivity for them both. Even though it's for his pleasure she works, the feeling of him pressing into her, and the scent coming from him, wafting up into her nose, proves a pleasant distraction, making focusing difficult.
"Aeylida, dearest!" Sobervre grits his teeth, one eye shut tight, the other trained on what's happening, unwilling to miss a moment. "I'm being most sincere—!"
He's unable to finish as his eyes remain fixed to scene playing out before him. Watching his head and crown appear briefly before again vanishing, swallowed whole between her pressed breasts. Feeling the warmth, smooth softness and slippery wetness, all of which differ completely from when she'd just minutes ago been servicing him with her mouth and tongue. The way her breath washes over his tip, timed almost perfectly with every second or third time it appears before vanishing like prey fleeing a predator.
And then there's the look on her face, which would be enough to drive mad anyone seeing it. Eyes closed in ecstasy, brow furrowed in focus, mouth open in anticipation of what he can't say for certain until it becomes obvious.
As if in some effort to bring him to completion, she presses her breasts in with her hands, then down, exposing his head while keeping his shaft fully enveloped.
With that most tender area now exposed, she pulls her mouth over it, taking in just that bit, swirling her tongue around the tip, gathering up the fluid which now pours like a stream and slathering it over and around. If the feeling of everything combined hadn't been enough to push him past the limits of his endurance, the sight certainly would have.
Every single god and each burning hell, I can see her—!
Stiffened, aroused, and beautiful, her nipples press into each other as the meat of her breasts, along with her mouth and lips, keep the rest of him hidden. And of course, she can feel it, and twitches slightly. That subtle motion, combined with everything else, scatters the remaining shreds of his will.
Every muscle fiber within him tightens. From his toes which curl inward, reaching for his heels, to his fingers which dig and gouge into their mattress, to even his abdominal wall which tenses so much it nearly craps. All while shuddering like water droplets on a just-struck base drum. None of it feels unwelcome or discomforting.
Simply his body, reaching its apex.
Deep within her cleavage, Aeylida can feel him shift and swell. Perhaps paying her some courtesy, it waits until the instant she's withdrawn him from her mouth before erupting, scattering his white seed over her face, closed eyes, breasts, hands, hair and mouth. Not a grotesque amount, but enough to certainly prove true his statement about it having 'been a while.'
And the scent is certainly overpowering.
At the instant of his climax, the world around Sobervre washes white. Every thought or concern vanishes, and briefly he even forgets his reasons for being here.
The supreme bliss is enough, for this moment at least, to supplant everything.
"Aeylida, that was…"
Staring up into the swimming abyss, resting his forearm over his forehead, his chest rises and falls as he heaves out gasp after weighted gasp. He's unable even to complete his thought, let alone give it words. Looking down, he spies the evidence of his pleasure painted all over Aeylida's lovely form. If she, now sitting there with her back against the headboard, wearing a delighted smile, didn't still have that look of desire shining so deep within her eyes, he's certain he'd have felt a twinge of guilt at seeing her so soiled.
Seeing that look in her eyes renews his vigor far more quickly than one might expect possible for a human male. He takes his turn, showing off his power as he twists his hand about his wrist, gathering his spillage off of the bedspread, and pulling it away from Aeylida's face and hair, leaving it as clean as it was before they'd started.
With another dismissive gesture, he vanishes it into a small, dark aether vortex.
Huh… Wonder where that'll end up…?
Unconcerned, he shrugs and leaves the thought as someone else's problem. He looks down again to see his seed still spread across her breasts, and for a moment considers removing that as well. But the sight is too tantalizing, and further stiffens his own heightened arousal. He sits up, heaving out another deep sigh, bringing his heart back to a less hectic rate while Aeylida nods her approval.
Still smiling, still bearing that insatiable look in her eyes.
"I think it's—"
"—your turn, yes."
Sobervre finishes her thought as he moves toward her, across the bed, staring into her eyes from the distance of a single breath. He brings his hand up, resting it along the side of her face, letting his thumb brush across her chin's beauty mark, before resting it against her lower lip. Pulling it down briefly before moving in, pressing another deep kiss on her soft lips.
Enjoying their sweetness again.
But it's not enough.
Gradually, he lowers himself, drifting his mouth, his lips, down her chin.
Her neck.
Her breasts and cleavage, after leaving them clean with another dismissive gesture.
Each place, planting a long, tender kiss, pressing his tongue into her skin, sending another excited shiver from the point of contact through her entire body as her head tilts forward, her mouth falling open. Trailing down to her waist, her abdomen, and navel, until finally arriving where everything had started.
But even there, he hesitates, instead first placing another tender kiss on the sensitive insides of each thigh, sending through her another delighted thrill.
He then looks up into her eyes, seeing her face again red with expectancy.
With anticipation.
He shows a deep, devilish grin.
"There's no one around for malms and malms, Aeylida…"
With each hand, he grips one of her thighs, gently spreading her legs and bringing himself ever closer.
"So I want to hear you scream."
In any other context, the words would've chilled her soul. But here, and the tone with which they're delivered, full of sincerity and a deep, earnest desire, only heightens her anticipation. She's unable even to nod before he's buried his face deep between her legs, pressing his lips into her, spreading her apart with his mouth and tongue before pressing on further, slipping it deep within her insides.
At his sudden entry, Aeylida arches her back, nearly slamming into the bed's headboard. Her muscles tighten throughout her body. Even between her legs, it takes some effort not to pinch herself shut on his head and tongue.
The second he's passed through her flower garden's gate, Sobervre is assailed with a strange tasting nectar. The quantity of fluid flowing out around his mouth, mixing with his own saliva, isn't copious, but it's still enough that he can feel it running down his chin each time he laps at her open slit. He doesn't recoil from the flavor, but neither would he use it as a garnish for fine dining.
What a stupid thought. This in itself is dining fine enough.
Frowning at himself, he returns his focus to the present, running his tongue just along the outsides before reaching her exposed keystone. Stiff and hot, and the second he rolls his tongue over it, he can hear Aeylida emit a shattering cry into the surrounding void.
That alone would be enough to turn his self-irritated frown up in a delighted grin.
Well, I know enough about this sort of thing. That won't be enough, so let's—!
Keeping his attention there, he moves his hands up to again fondle and grope her inviting breasts. Some slick stickiness from his explosive display of before remains, mixed in with the small beads of sweat which now dot her lovely skin, twinkling like stars in the sky.
Little hasn't been sodden with both their fluids and scent, so it's of little concern to him. With both hands, he mashes together her firm breasts, trying to stimulate her nipples. Not so rough as to cause her pain, but not so bland as to be ineffective. He rolls them between his thumb and forefingers.
For having been so aroused from the start, only to have her arousal heightened by her having serviced Sobervre to climax, a fact by which she's still surprised, she can already feel her own welling up deep within her. Throughout her body, muscles over which she has no conscious control tighten and relax in quick succession.
With some difficulty, she keeps her legs apart as Sobervre presses along her insides with his tongue, as deep as he's able. The flow of her fluid increases, making it clear even to him that the moment is close.
Just a bit more. I wouldn't want to be called a selfish lover, after all… But what would be enough to put her over the edge?
He combs through his mind, searching his memories for what he knows of the woman, trying to recall the times in their lives when they'd indulged each other's desires like this. But nothing extraordinary comes to mind. For all his experiences with her, in times like this, she's differed little from any other woman. Recalling this, he lets his eyes slip closed, resolving to stimulate every place he can reach until she's filled the void with the endless song of her rapturous cries.
But it's getting difficult like this. My tongue is going numb.
Frowning, he brings his mouth up toward her stiff nub, nipping it between with his lips, lapping at it once with his tongue. The rest of her body stiffens, and she lets out another piercing cry as the sudden, unexpected stimulus sends through her a surge of excitement. With his mouth and tongue done in, and needing a moment's rest, he sets to work again with his hands, slipping a few fingers inside, pressing up and running them along the roof. Caressing from within her dark, damp insides. Brushing his thumb across her keystone, sending another thundering surge rippling through her entire body.
With his head free, he lays upon her a few more tender kisses in various places, working his way up from her waist to her chest. Everything ilms her closer to release, and she folds herself over his head, pulling him in, wrapping her hands and arms around his back. And with her back exposed, he runs his free hand's fingers up and down, just barely making contact, and each time only for an instant.
Each time sends through her another shiver, and while he reaches her stiffened peaks, again taking turns on each with his now-recovered mouth and tongue, he glides his hand down her back, towards her untouched backside.
I haven't seen if she—!
He's just barely reached it when he winces from a sharp pain in his back, where she unconsciously digs in her nails at the sudden, unfamiliar, overpowering new stimulus.
Ha-ha! I've found something interesting…!
Grinning to himself, with his face still buried, hidden from view, he traces his fingers all over her back, nearing her waist again, where her spine meets her ass. Again, she digs into his back at the new feeling.
"'Ber, that's… I'm…!"
Her words are void of force. Each time he reaches that place, the force gripping his fingers within her intensifies, the nub he brushes his thumb across trembles, and the nipple in his mouth stiffens further.
Seeking her pleasure's peak, he stretches his fingers before planting his full palm on her soft backside and sinking his fingers into it. It takes almost no effort, as if her body draws them in of its own accord.
"That's—! Hng… I…!"
Within her, the force of her walls gripping his fingers reaches its peak. Aeylida's silken hair flails, glistening in the surrounding starlight as she casts back her head, arching her spine and pulling Sobervre deep into her chest. Every muscle in her body tightens, threatening to snap under the strain it places on itself, while somehow allowing for her to shake and quiver.
Everything in her world goes white.
The moment has arrived, and she releases into the surrounding void an unrestrained, rapturous cry.
With her hands relaxed on Sobervre's shoulders, she buries her face into his neck. Her back rises and falls with each trembling breath as the aftershocks continue to run through her from her toes to her nose. With his hand now free from her insides, he lets it rest on her back, feeling each beat of her slamming heart.
The other, he threads through her hair, now damp from exertion.
Though unseen by her, his mouth curls in a full, satisfied grin.
"Dearest, now that was worth every—!"
Much of what Sobervre has thought and tried to say this morning has been truncated, and that's not about to change as Aeylida pulls her head back, then buries her mouth into his. His eyes snap wide as he feels the both of them tumble back into the mattress, sinking into it. She holds his head steady, forcing her lips against his, her tongue into his mouth, running alongside his.
Spinning them together, like she was trying to merge them into some new creation.
Where before, her desire had been tempered by longing, something now more primal has awoken in it, and she keeps him anchored while tracing down his chest, toward his waist, and seizing his member in her firm grip.
I guess it's been a while for me, too… And I'm not about to let it end. Not until I've—!
She withdraws from his mouth, situating herself over him. His eyes grow wide with expectation as she straddles him, guiding him with the precision of a surgeon toward her dripping opening.
"Ah, wait—!"
Sobervre sits up, reaching out with his hand, seizing her wrist. Immediately, her mouth twists in a vexed frown.
"Wait? Wait for what, Sobervre!? Didn't you say I'd waited long eno—?!"
"Yes, dearest, and I didn't mean it in that way…" Sobervre says, shaking his head, pressing a finger to her lips to quiet her tirade. "I thought we'd try it in the style of canines."
"In the… what?" She releases her grip on him, then falls back into the bed, resting her back against the headboard. Her expression goes blank as she tries to process. "I… I'm not letting you stick it in—"
"No, of course not, and I wouldn't even if you asked me to," Sobervre says, his own mouth curling down in disgust. "But in that way, there's just better… you know, access?"
With her legs stretched in front of her, Aeylida folds both her hands in her lap, eyeing Sobervre. Unspoken doubts about his dubious suggestion tug the corners of her mouth down, slanting it in a doubtful frown.
Better access? What nonsense is he saying… There are plenty of other options which…?
As she grumbles to herself, something in his expression, a childlike, innocent smile mixed with a bit of playful mischief, makes her sigh. Shaking her head, she allows her frown to relax into a near-smile.
"Fine, but if you do anything…"
Words to describe what he might do, let alone what she might do in kind, remain unspoken. All she can do is sigh again, shaking her head as she turns away from him. Resting her shins and knees on the bed, she places her hands on the oaken headboard. Before now, Sobervre's not had the chance to admire her from this angle.
Breathtaking…
The sight, and how quickly she'd capitulated, has his mouth drying, both with surprise and anticipation as he moves himself closer. Stationing himself, preparing his mind for the first moments when he's slid himself into the depths of her tight, searing dampness. But seeing her back shining in the low light of the surrounding void, he pauses that thought.
Reaching out with his hand, he runs his finger down her back, from her neck to her waistline, stopping just above the valley running through her backside. The gentle gesture, an ephemeral touch, sends a light tremor rippling through her skin and muscles.
"H-hey! I said—!"
She snaps her head around, glaring briefly until she sees his expression, changed from one of a youth plotting a prank to something more tender. A man, calmly observing with affection his lover's delicate form.
"Sorry… I mean, not really."
He reaches out with both hands this time, tracing abstractions into her skin with the same feathery touch of his fingertips. Like anything more forceful would cause her or the moment to crumble.
Each slight touch sends through her another delighted shiver and she has to bite down on her lower lip.
"I just wanted to enjoy this…"
In another daze, he again mumbles this half to her and half to himself as he lets one hand fall to the bed, supporting him as he hovers himself over her, brushing her hair aside to expose her nape.
"Every ilm of your sweet, starlight-infused skin…"
Leaning in, he brings his lips close to her neck. So close she can feel his breath as he places there a soft kiss. Slowly, supporting himself with his legs, he lavishes a trail of them down her back, while he lets his hands roam over her entire body.
Her back. Shoulders. Waist and sides. Each sensual touch only heightening her arousal.
And her impatience.
"Sobervre, will you please just—!"
She's about to snap her head around again when she feels his fingers pressing into and inside her once again, and she clamps down on her lip, pulling herself into the headboard, her back arched and chest flattened against it.
"N-Not that!" She grinds her teeth, glaring at the bed as her frustration peaks. "You know what I want… Don't make me say it…"
She can almost feel the eager grin flash across his face as he nods his head.
"Of course, my dearest." He drifts forward again, grasping himself and directing his head toward her inviting opening. "I was only checking to be sure you were still…"
He doesn't finish his sentence with words, only slowly inserting himself into her. Though his fingers had been flexible, able to reach places which his cock had not, the difference in girth between one and the other has her heaving a deep, breathy moan. Not just the practical differences, but finally having her growing desire sated by being so completely united with him.
In only one way could they be closer, and the time for such a thing hasn't come.
I hope it never does… This is far more… satisfying…
Moments pass like minutes as he brings his full length into her forge's depths. He has to grit his teeth against the intense pleasure rippling, ripping through him. Like there was no distance between the nerves below his waist and the receptors in his brain. But finally, he's passed fully through her gate and now resides completely within her.
"At last, Aeylida…" He slumps over her, pressing his hands into their mattress to hold himself over her. "We've become one again…"
"Finally…"
Smiling, with small tears forming in the corners of her eyes, Aeylida breathes out her agreement.
Sobervre has to allow another moment to pass. Any sudden movement he fears may send his still-primed load surging forth, and far too soon.
Right. Let's take it nice and slow… We've got all the time in the world.
With some effort, he straightens his back, then withdraws himself. The gradual motion produces a deep, wet sucking noise that makes it only that much more difficult to focus, and he nearly emerges completely, head, shaft and all, before realizing. The smooth, gradual motion comes to a stop, and with it the soft moan Aeylida had been breathing out.
He then repeats his entry, and her sealed cave spreads welcomingly as he slides in ilm by ilm. For the motion being so fluid, it produces from her another pleasured tremor which lasts the entire movement's duration. A few more repetitions of this helps him find his rhythm, and his gradual motion's pace increases into something incessant.
And with that unceasing feeling filling her, the produced enthrallment can only intensify.
"Does it… please you… Aeylida…?"
Sobervre breathes his question out between thrusts. A needless question, if the steady, punctuated moans she releases with each motion are anything to go by.
"Y-Yes…! 'Ber… It feels… wonderf—HYA!"
Her words end with a startled yelp. For a few minutes, he's found himself vexed with his hands being idle. Recalling the pronounced reaction he'd garnered from her, he sinks his palms, fingers fanned, deep into her backside. The moment his fingertips press in, her grip on him intensifies, slowing his pace.
"'B-Ber, y-you…! I… said…!"
"Yes, but… I think… your body is… more honest…!"
It's another few moments before he's able to regain his rhythm. He continues working his hands into her soft skin, and with each movement, she again clamps down on him. Biting her lip, unwilling to admit, either out loud or to herself, that such a place should be so sensitive.
Each time… It's getting closer… I can feel… it…! I'm…!
She shudders against the growing pleasure running rampant through her body. Then, as quickly as the sudden stimulus had appeared, it ceases. The hands which had been massaging her there now again roam freely across her form, tracing paths through the beads of sweat which dot her back and shoulders.
The entire time, his pace never wavers.
As he traces upward towards her shoulders. When he brings them around, cupping her breasts, swaying with each forward thrust, pressing them into her chest. The shift in his focus leaves her knees weak, and she'd collapse to the mattress were it not for his hands holding her up.
Lifting her up, pressing her back into his chest, and his lips into her neck.
And that seemingly subtle gesture saps what remains of her resistance. Every fiber of her being quivers like a plucked string as the first waves of her climax slam into her like a tidal wave.
"S-Sobervre… I… I'm c-coming…!"
Something which needn't be said. The evidence is clear, from the way she clamps down on him, making it impossible to move anymore, to how he can feel her shaking in his hands, and of course hear her carnal cry ringing into the void's eternal night, crashing out as it reaches to the very stars themselves.
With her arms no longer supporting her, she reaches back with one hand, grabbing the back of his head, pulling his mouth free. Twisting her waist, she faces him, seizing his lips for herself, seeking to prolong and intensify this moment. And it's this far less subtle gesture which has him now seeing white, feeling his shaft enshrined within her pulsing, throbbing, expanding and contracting as everything surges forth from inside himself into her.
Wincing, he grunts once as everything pours up and out, while holding her about the stomach and chest, pressing her ever deeper into himself and indulging in this blissful pleasure for the few seconds it remains for him.
Thoroughly spent, they both fall forward, collapsing in a heap into the comfortable, inviting pillows spread at the bed's head, gasping, panting, and occasionally letting out a slight moan or another visceral grunt. The force with which Aeylida clamps down on Sobervre inhibits his withdrawal until his last few spurts have left his body.
"Hah… hah…"
With his head buried in Aeylida's dark, silken hair, Sobervre pants out a few gasps, his heart still slamming around in his chest. Finally, his blood's flow normalizes, and he slips free from her insides. Rolling to one side, he rests his arm against his forehead, staring up at the facsimiled night's sky.
At his side, no longer bearing his weight, Aeylida rolls over, turning to face him with a sated smile and eyes which radiate delight in the ambient light. And the two embrace again, taking the time given them to bask in the afterglow of their reunion, surrounded by the void and each other.
