Chapter 2
Light shining through the trees woke Elain at long last.
She stretched on her bed of grass and moss, feeling more refreshed than ever. When she opened her eyes, she smiled up at the ripe peaches dancing above, just waiting to be picked and turned into pies and tarts.
Elain blinked, then bolted to her feet.
She fell asleep-nude- beside her injured husband in the palace atop the Hewn City. Now she was here, in a blooming orchard, wearing a soft pink linen dress- a delicate version of the simple dresses she often gardened in- with no memory of how she got to this place.
"It's a dream," Lucien's voice came from her left. Elain whirled in his direction. She could see him walking up a river bank, water cupped in his hands.
He was wearing fine hide trousers that laced up the front, and an expensive linen shirt with puffed sleeves. Lucien's boots were black and polished. His shining red hair hung loose down to his shoulders. Truly he looked like the wandering prince Elain used to dream about as a teenager.
"It's a- how do you know?" Elain asked.
"I just do," Lucien was close now. He held out his hands, offering Elain a drink. When he looked up she took a step back in shock.
His eye was gone.
Or rather- it wasn't.
In place of his shining, golden eye was a brilliant green one- identical to the one beside it. Even the deep scars left by Amarantha's nails were gone. Lucien was whole and unblemished.
"A dream, best I can tell," he said again, then held up his hands. "Try the water."
She couldn't explain it, but she knew he wasn't some illusion, that was her Lucien. He was no dream- even if his appearance had changed somewhat. Elain lowered her lips and took a sip of the crystal clear water.
It was icy cold, but sweet. The flavor of ripe strawberries and bitter chocolate that ebbed and flowed as if she were eating such a treat. Elain's eyes widened and she looked up at her husband again in surprise.
"What do you taste?"
"Chocolate and strawberries," Elain said.
"For me it is chocolate mousse with ribbons of mint cream," Lucien laughed and released the water still in his cupped hands. "I think I drank a gallon of it already!"
Elain walked with Lucien back to the water's edge so that she could have more too. "Are you in any pain?"
"None at all! Elain, what is this? I'm not complaining, but what is going on?"
"I don't know either," she wet her throat and studied the land around them.
It was beautiful- an idyllic valley with a bright green forest on the other side of the winding river and the orchard at their backs. The sun shone warm and bright above, and clouds dotted the sky, offering shade here and there upon the ground. Birds whistled in the trees and the breeze that blew through her hair was pleasant and carried the scent of peaches.
But something else was different. Strange. Elain reached up and tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear and froze.
Her ear was rounded at the tip. With wide eyes, she looked down at her hands to see ten normal human fingers. Not the longer, more delicate fae ones, but- well, now they almost looked short and fat to her eyes.
Lucien tucked his own hair behind his ears, showing off their rounded tops. "I've always wondered what it was like to have round ears," he grinned.
Human. In this dream, they were human.
"Early on- just after I was changed- I used to dream about being human again," Elain confessed. "Even now, sometimes when I dream… it's still like that."
"You were human longer than you've been fae," Lucien took Elain's hand. She seemed nervous he would judge her for her dreams, "It's perfectly fine."
Elain cleared her throat and stood. She turned back to the orchard, walked up to a tree, and picked a low hanging peach. Elain took a single bite as Lucien came to her side. The flavor that exploded across her tongue was sweet and light- lacking the magic of the fruits in Prythian, but undeniably perfect all the same.
As he'd done with the water, she shared the peach with Lucien.
"How did we get here?"
"I don't know," Lucien said. "I woke up beside you. I saw your ears, felt mine, and then went to the water to have a look and take a sip. You woke up only a few minutes after I did. It doesn't-" he was going to say that it didn't feel like a trap, but to say those words invited… a trap. Instead, Lucien cleared his throat, "I don't sense anything wrong."
"Me neither," Elain said. "Should we- do you think we should explore a bit? See if there is anything or anyone around who can explain what's happening?"
Lucien didn't have any better ideas. It didn't feel like a trap or some evil thing. Maybe he and Elain had somehow created this shared dream themselves. He possessed basic Daemati skills, but no matter how long it was since Elain came out of the Cauldron, she was still discovering new abilities. Nesta had turned out to be Daemati on equal footing as Feyre, Elain may just have been a late bloomer. His shields were usually up, but if she'd had a surge of Daemati ability she could have used the mating bond as a back door and pulled them both into this strange and beautiful world.
Without… conscious thought… for something Lucien doubted even Rhysand would be able to do…
It was less disturbing to just trust that Elain had created this world, so Lucien decided to go with that.
He held Elain's hand as together they walked through the orchard. Peach trees gave way to plum. Plum to pear, pear to orange. After what seemed to be a few hours walk, the two had sampled over a dozen fruits and even some nuts growing upon the trees. Each and every one of them was perfectly ripe, the flavor immaculate.
Even though they snacked on the fruits they passed, Elain and Lucien never felt genuinely hungry or thirsty- nor did they feel full, tired, or hot. They also didn't have the urge to relieve themselves. A true dream- although when Lucien pinched his own arm he certainly felt it.
At the edge of the orchard was a rolling meadow and a shimmering blue lake. Lush gardens filled the meadow, scenting the air around them with lilac, jasmine, carnation, and hundreds of smells Lucien's now-human nose couldn't hope to pick out. Every one of them soft and beautiful. Row after row of flowers- each in perfect bloom.
Along the lake's edge something white gleamed: a sprawling manor as fine as anything in faerie lands. White stone walls and a slate gray roof made it shine in the eternal mid-morning sun. Even at such a large distance Lucien could tell that the houses large windows were all thrown wide open, inviting the breeze.
Lucien glanced over to Elain, who shrugged. "If we are looking for someone to help, a house seems like a good start."
He nodded, not voicing what they were both thinking- in this dream they were humans. They couldn't rely on fae strength, speed, or even magic if something tried to attack them.
Elain led the way towards the house, pulling Lucien along behind her. She inspected each of the plants that they passed. They were all ones she was very familiar with in both sight and scent. Nothing new or dangerous or strange lurked among them. Even the bees that wandered plant to plant posed no threat. They all hung low to the flowers, completely ignoring the two humans as their black fuzz turned yellow with pollen.
It was another long walk from the edge of the orchard to the home, and yet still Elain felt no different than she had when she first woke. By the time they reached the doors of the manor it had been nearly half a day, all of those spent walking in the sun. Her skin was neither sweaty nor burned, and not a single strand of hair had fallen out of place on her or Lucien's heads.
Up close the manor was less imposing than it appeared far away. The white marble facade and large windows worked together to amplify the light of the meadow. What they could see of the interior windows were large rooms with high, vaulted ceilings. Soft green, blue, and yellow hues made them feel spacious and alive, even with the various portraits or crests hanging upon the walls.
Lucien tucked Elain behind him and knocked on the door. There was no sound from the inside, so he knocked again, harder. Elain noticed a servant enter the foyer, but she didn't seem to notice there was someone knocking.
"Hello?" Elain called to her through the open window. The servant- a middle aged woman of average build and face- paid her no notice. "Madam?"
Nothing.
Lucien pressed the latch on the door and swung it inward.
The servant didn't react in any way.
"Maybe she can't see us?" Lucien stepped forward cautiously. He walked right up to the woman, who was busy fluffing the pillows on a low couch, and waved a hand in her face.
No reaction.
"So if we're dreaming, are they real?" Elain said. She stepped into the house behind Lucien. The servant turned and walked over to the couch on the opposite side of the entryway- in the process, she should have bumped into Lucien's shoulder.
She passed straight through it.
"Okay, so we're not… physically here." Lucien frowned back at the woman.
Elain heard a sound from the far side of the entryway. A grand marble staircase connected the first and second floors with a thick embroidered rug of blue and green running down the length of the steps. A man had stepped onto the staircase- one wearing stylish black shoes with matching pants that fit tightly from his hips to just below his knees, leaving his powerful calves- covered as they were by dark stockings- on display. A tight waistcoat and fitted undershirt barely hid the man's powerful muscles. The deep green silk cumberbund around his stomach seemed purposefully chosen to highlight the hidden rises and falls of his abdomen- even though the layers of fabric.
"Ponce," Lucien huffed.
The man came down the stairs slowly and with purpose. When his head became visible (topped with a fine hat), Lucien choked and Elain turned beet-red:
It was, in fact, Lucien.
A ghastly, pompous, stylish, foppish Lucien.
"Oh no." Elain took a step back and her Lucien whirled on her. Her cheeks were flush and her earlobes red as she looked at the dandy coming down the stairs.
"What?"
"I- this- this might be my dream," she winced as the other Lucien's shoes touched down, sending a neat 'click' through the air.
Lucien blinked, "Say that again? You dream of me like this?! I look ridiculous!"
"We should probably just go-"
"Where is the Lady Vanserra?" the other man said.
The maid immediately abandoned her work to spin and curtsey, "In the western drawing room, Lord Vanserra."
"Why do you hate me?" This time it was Lucien asking the question of Elain. He glared at the other Lucien as Lord Vanserra turned and strode towards the far drawing room.
"Don't judge me, I haven't had this dream since I was a teenager," Elain sighed and followed after Lord Vanserra. She had a nagging feeling that the only way to return to the real world was to let the dream play out.
Lucien hurried after her and that- that abomination. Elain was just happy it took Lucien's form and not the form of her literature tutor. She'd had a terrible crush on him as a younger girl, and he featured in many of her young fantasies.
"Lady Vanserra, shall I join you for tea?" Lord Vanserra stopped in the doorway of a room halfway down the hall.
Lucien pointed at Elain, "You had better look as stupid as I do."
As embarrassed as Elain was for Lucien to see this particular daydream, she rolled her eyes at the back of his head. The only reason she imagined Lucien in fop-form was because that was the styling of men in the erotic novels she stole from Nesta's room in their childhood home. A traditional, old-fashioned gentleman.
Elain and Lucien followed Lord Vanserra, dodging around him quickly as he turned to close the door to the drawing room- making it the only closed door or window they'd seen thus far. Lucien raised an eyebrow at Elain. She glared at him, her earlobes practically scarlet now.
The drawing room was spacious, with thick white carpets and buttery yellow walls. Unlike the meadow-facing rooms, this one had very few paintings- only a handful of landscapes. A couple bookshelves and a white piano decorated the space, but overall it was fairly simple.
Lady Vanserra sat on a white curule. The bench-like chair had no back and curved up at the edges, helping to fan out the skirts of her expensive teal dress. The top portion of her hair had been braided back, with the braid then twisted into the shape of a rose, giving her an air of utmost innocence.
She stood to cursey a greeting to Lord Vanserra. The Lady's hands were pale and she kept them close to the bodice of her dress. She was somewhat nervous of this Lord Vanserra, and it was clear they were unfamiliar with one another.
Lord Vanserra sat down in the curule across from her. Between them was a simple white table with a lace cloth. Lady Vanserra had been preparing for tea. She quickly reached for the soft pink teapot and filled the Lord's cup as he watched with an almost pained expression.
"Lady Vanserra, why do I frighten you so?" His voice was gentle and deep. Far deeper than Lucien's normal voice.
"You do not, my lord," Lady Vanserra said, quite obviously nervous as she set the teapot down with shaking hands.
Lord Vanserra noted this, and he reached across the table to still her trembling fingers. She flinched back from his touch, burying her hands in her lap. Pain filled her husband's eyes. With a sigh, he let his hand fall to the table. "We have been wed for a month yet, sweet lady. Will you not let me touch even your hand?"
"Y-yes, forgive me my lord," Lady Vanserra stammered. She slowly raised a trembling hand to rest on the table, her fingers twitching as though she couldn't force herself to reach out further.
The lord took her hand in his and offered a soft smile, "My touch is not so painful, is it?"
"No, my lord." Lady Vanserra blushed and tried to suppress her breathlessness. The touch was like a firebrand to her soul, but she was an innocent maiden- unable to understand these feelings bursting in her heart.
Lucien rolled his eyes, "You read books like this?"
"Shut up, it's romantic."
Lord Vanserra leaned in towards Lady Vanserra- Elain- using the hand clasped in his own to hold her in place even as she tipped back to maintain the distance, "I know other touches that will feel good as well."
Elain clutched her hands to her chest and mouthed along as her copy said "L-like what?" Ever so slowly, she forced herself to sit up in her seat.
Lord Vanserra eased his grip on her arm, staring deep into her eyes to see if she would flinch away from him again. When she did not move her hand away, he stretched his fingers out, lightly stroking the underside of her wrist. His touch slid up her forearm. At the juncture of her elbow he moved slightly outwards, tracing now towards her shoulder. At the edge of her gown's capped sleeves he stopped and rested his palm flatly against her skin. Only his pointer finger ventured upwards before pausing with only the tip of the finger beneath her sleeve.
"How did that feel?" Lord Vanserra leaned across the small table.
Lady Vanserra's eyelashes fluttered. "Quite… indecent, Lord Vanserra," she whispered. Her voice was high and breathless. The eyes that met the lord's were filled with both naive confusion and desire.
"Is it indecent for a husband to touch his wife's arm?" He leaned in closer, whispering now too. "Lady Vanserra, we have been wed for a fortnight. I promise the mantle of a woman and a wife is more comfortable than that of a maiden."
"I'm going to vomit," Lucien declared.
"You can touch me however he touches her," Elain said.
Lucien stuffed the tip of his finger under her sleeve without any finesse or romance. His voice was a monotone as he said, "Oh Elain, I love it when you let me try the really obscene things."
While Lucien complained, Lord and Lady Vanserra had continued their little discussion. Lord Vanserra was leaning in with his other hand gripping the fabric of his trouser leg, clearly stopping himself from touching the lady further.
Lady Vanserra didn't know what to say. She was innocent and chaste, and had never had an impure thought in her life. How could she even consider saying she wanted even so much as a smile from her husband? It seemed so… lewd.
Elain was thankful that only she knew the inner workings of Lady Vanserra's mind in this particular fantasy. Lucien might very well laugh himself to death the moment the words "impure thought" left her lips. She had the purest heart in the Inner Circle but only her husband (and, thanks to faulty soundproofing, half the neighborhood) knew that behind closed doors she was perhaps the kinkiest fae in all of Prythian.
Evidently Lord Vanserra could see his little bride had lost her courage to speak- that or he'd decided he was done waiting and ready to be a bit daring. He rose from his curule ever so slightly and leaned in close.
Lady Vanserra flinched and quickly shut her eyes. When she felt his breath against her cheek she squeaked, "Sir, stop!"
Lord Vanserra froze. He sighed and slid back heavily into his chair. He stared at Lady Vanserra for a while, his expression… closed. Distant. "By your leave, my lady." He stood and turned away from his wife.
"Wait-!" Lady Vanserra squeaked. Her hand shot out to catch his wrist. He did not turn around, but obediently froze. An embarrassed tear slipped down her cheeks. "I- I don't know how to… how to…" She reached into the folds of her dress and pulled out something small and round. Lady Vanserra pressed it into her husband's palm and he finally turned to look. She stared up at him, pleading for understanding, "Please…"
"This-" his brows knit together as he brushed a hand over whatever it was she'd given him. Across the room, Lucien stood on his toes to try and see better. The thing was pale blue and circular. At the outer edges it was perhaps an inch tall, but rose to two inches near the middle. It appeared to be a bundle of silk.
Lucien's eyebrows rose as he realized what the man was holding- and what the demure lady across the room was asking for. "You kinky little imp," Lucien snickered into Elain's hair. "Even in dreams, huh?"
"Always," she grinned as she watched her fantasy playing out.
Lord Vanserra stared at the bundle a moment before making to hand it back, "Lady, I will never use force upon you. You are not ready, I will wait until-"
"I am," she said quickly, and folded his fingers over the bundle. "But I am afraid that I may never find the nerve on my own, husband." She emphasized the last word, even though her cheeks were scarlet with embarrassment. He turned to look at her fully now, but she wouldn't- couldn't- meet his gaze. "Please. Please. For both of us."
Lord Vanserra stared at his wife, reading everything from her eyes to the way her chin trembled. The fluttering of her chest as she breathed. The shaking of her hands. "Are you certain?"
"Y-yes," she stammered. When his lips parted again she dared to quickly reach up and press her finger to them, stopping his words. "I am," her voice was more confident this time.
With a heavy nod, Lord Vanserra relented. His wife removed her finger and balled her fists up in the skirts of her dress, embarrassed at initiating such an intimate touch.
The man walked away from his wife, but this time she let him go. Elain's eyes were bright with lust as she watched Lucien's copy take long strides towards the closed door of the drawing room. "The Lady Vanserra and I are not to be disturbed under any circumstances. Become deaf, or I will throw you out to the wolves."
"My lady-" a servant's voice came from just behind the door, full of concern.
"Follow my Lord's orders," Lady Vanserra said. What confidence was missing from her a moment ago found its way to her voice.
"Yes, my lady," evidently all they needed to hear was Lady Vanserra's consent in order to leave her utterly alone with her husband.
This time, when Lord Vanserra closed the door, he turned the lock.
"My dear, sweet lady," he said, voice low as he began to unbutton the jacket of his expensive suit, "I swear to you that I will spend my life repaying you for this gift." He left his coat across the back of the couch near Lucien and Elain. His cumberbund soon followed. When he reached his wife he delicately- and with as little direct contact as possible- brushed her hair over her shoulder, "And I promise that I will be gentle always."
This promise was a whisper in her ear.
"She isn't fond of 'gentle'," Lucien whispered loudly. Elain elbowed him.
His long fingers reached around her to the bundle upon the table. From it he pinched the very center ribbon- the largest of them all. The bundle unraveled as Lord Vanserra removed the length of blue silk. His wife visibly paled. She closed her eyes tight and took a firm grip on her skirts. She trembled visibly.
"Gentle always," Lord Vanserra repeated in a whisper as he moved behind his wife and lifted the silk over her eyes. True to his words even in this, he only tied it tightly enough that it would hold itself up. He also took care to fashion the tie at the back into a delicate bow, the very same kind Lady Vanserra might tie in her hair.
She gasped as his hands touched her shoulders and he led her a few steps away from the table to an elegant chaise lounge. Its teal fabric was embroidered in golden thread, the cushions piled upon the back the softest ivory velvet money could buy. Elain pulled Lucien over to watch from near the table as Lord Vanserra helped his Lady to sit, then turn so that her legs ran the length of the chair and her back rested against the cushions.
"Stay here," he whispered. She nodded meekly.
In the short time it took Lord Vanserra to walk to the table and grab the other lengths of silk, Lady Vanserra's hands went from balled up in her skirt, to clutching the armrests of the lounge chair, and back to her skirt once again. She did not know what to do with herself. Even her skin could not decide between grave-pale and flushed.
When her husband touched her wrist and began to wind a silken cord around it, she jumped with a squeak. He hesitated a moment- the Lady was biting her lips to keep her mouth shut, but the squeak was a barely contained 'Stop!'.
"Do I pretend I did not hear that?" he said quietly.
She nodded once.
"Very well," he went back to winding the silk around one wrist, then the other. These ribbons were far longer than the one that bound her eyes, as if the lady was not sure how much to use. Lord Vanserra draped the excess silk over the sides of the armrests before kneeling on the floor.
The Lady no longer had to worry about what to do with her hands. Lord Vanserra looped the silk around a leg of the chair and pulled until Lady Vanserra was forced to grip the outermost edge of the armrest. He tied the knot at the base of the chair tightly, ensuring she could not close her arm. She trembled as he made quick work of the other one.
There were still two lengths of silk remaining, but Lord Vanserra made no move to touch Lady Vanserra's feet. That touch was far more intimate than her wrists or even brushing her hair from her shoulder. It may be too much- a laughable position considering what he still intended to do.
"Is anything too tight?" Lord Vanserra asked. Of course, he'd taken great care to leave the bindings on her wrists and eyes quite loose. If she genuinely wanted to escape, it would not be too hard.
Lady Vanserra did not trust her mouth to speak, but she quickly shook her head. Lucien noticed a gathering darkness along the blindfold around the same time his twin did. Lord Vanserra leaned in close and brushed his lips against the gathering damp. He could not kiss away her tears through the silk, but he nuzzled her slightly.
"You are no less for this, my lady," Lord Vanserra whispered. He stroked his nose alongside hers as his mouth lowered towards her lips. With a gentle touch, he reached up to hold her hand the moment their lips met. It was a chaste kiss- but this time a tear escaped her blindfold.
Lord Vanserra held his lips against hers until he felt her relax somewhat. Only once she acclimated to this level of intimacy did he press on, kissing her with more force. Lady Vanserra's heart was racing, and as she gasped for breath he took her bottom lip between his and stole a taste of her mouth.
Their wedding had been sealed with nothing more than a polite kiss upon the cheek- and in the weeks since Lord Vanserra had not been permitted even that much intimacy. It took genuine effort to restrain himself.
Lady Vanserra's lips were unsure of their duty, but slowly she grew used to the feeling of her husband's mouth against hers and learned to match the pace he set. Every instinct in her body screamed against it- this was not the behavior of a proper lady- and her hands were balled into tight fists. But she did not struggle to push him away. What she'd needed was to have the choice taken from her so that she did not feel improper or wrong. She did not violate the laws of her strict etiquette lessons in this way.
At least, that was what she told herself.
Her arms shook as Lord Vanserra's own wrapped around her torso. Her entire body flinched at his touch- while nearby Elain smiled as Lucien slid his own arms around her from behind and began to trace the curve of her neck with his tongue and lips.
"If he knew where to touch you that dress would have been on the floor a long time ago," Lucien whispered. There was a sudden intake of breath from Lady Vanserra and Lucien grinned, "Oh look, I think he's figuring it out."
Lord Vanserra had abandoned his wife's lips and was delicately licking and sucking at the curve of her neck. There was a distressed sound from Lady Vanserra as her hands twisted against the ties. She was trying to hide her moans, and the hot mouth of her husband upon her neck was absolutely not something her sensibilities could stand. Or, rather, the fact that she liked it so much was what scandalized the lady.
"Anyone can figure out table manners or how to pour tea," Elain groaned as she watched the other-her struggling on the couch while Lucien did his best to leave marks on her neck. "What they should really teach in etiquette school is cock sucking. It comes up more often than dinner parties."
Lucien chuckled in her ear. A low, promising sound. "You know how this dream plays out, does the innocent little lady get to find out how good she is at that?" He ran his lips along her earlobe for a moment before returning to the ivory column of her neck.
"Not this dream," Elain reached behind her to hold Lucien's head against her neck. "But when we wake up I'm going to have one hell of a craving."
"What about me?" Lucien pouted. The hands wrapped around her torso slid down, until one was cupping her sex through the layers of her clothing.
"After I'm done, dear."
One of Lord Vanserra's broad hands was now sliding up Lady Vanserra's calf. Though the woman was still quite nervous, she'd raised her knee ever so slightly. Her hands gripped the armrests of the chaise for dear life and she was biting her lip again, fighting down the words she did not want to say, or stopping herself from trying to pull his hand up higher?
Though they were only a dream, Lucien could smell human arousal from across the room.
If he could guess the technique of his foppish-clone, and if he were to imitate it for Elain, he would need her seated. Lucien pulled one of the curules, intending to move it a bit closer to the display on the couch. The chair held firm until the image flickered. Then, when Lucien tugged, the chair itself remained in place while a second slid out of it until the two were wholly independent of one another. The chair he had touched felt solid and real, but it shimmered ever so slightly.
Lucien eyed the table and grinned. There were two more ribbons of silk left upon it- Lord Vanserra never bound his lady's feet (granted, she probably would have gone running for her rooms in fright if he had tried to part her legs at the time).
He pushed Elain down onto the curule and quickly grabbed the two silk ties. As before, they shimmered before peeling away from the dream-version. Elain pulled up her skirts and Lucien barked a laugh, "Even in your dreams you won't wear panties?"
"Never," her eyes were full of wicked light.
Part of Lucien wished others knew the Elain he did, that deliciously wicked little kitten who was so different from the gentle lady the world saw. But a stronger part of Lucien liked having that knowledge between just the two of them. It was more fun.
He knelt between his wife's legs and kissed the inside of her thighs as he tied the ribbons around each ankle, binding her to the curule. While he worked, she unlaced the top of her dress and pulled it down to expose her delicate breasts.
Lucien growled. It was a primal fae sound that turned Elain's core molten. On his way up to seize her lips he kissed the soft skin and used tongue and hand both to tease her nipples until they were hard. Only then did he give her a quick peck on the lips before moving behind her to watch the show.
Lady Vanserra was biting her lip in fear again as Lord Vanserra's hand slid up between her thighs. He was tracing the edge of her gown with his mouth while his other hand worked the laces on the front of her dress. The lady was breathing heavily, but whimpers still dominated over moans. To allow such a touch- what would her governess say?
The moment Lord Vanserra's fingers brushed along the fine hair of her mound she nearly jumped out of her skin. Lady Vanserra began to say something, thought better of it, and yet could not seem to force herself to close her mouth out of sheer fear. She was breathing hard, but not crying- something Lord Vanserra kept a wary eye on her blindfold for.
"You are giving me a precious gift, Lady Vanserra," the lord abandoned her chest to whisper in her ear as his fingers loosened her bodice. "I will make sure you are heavily rewarded."
The front of her bodice sagged and his long fingers traced the hemline of her dress, pulling it down until her breasts were freed. She was left in a similar state to Elain.
"Now, put your feet on the ground. Both of them," he pushed at her knees with his elbow. Hesitantly- and with much fear- Lady Vanserra's legs sagged. She forced her legs to the side, but seemed to lose courage with only her ankles off the couch. If anything she closed her knees further.
"Alright, I understand," Lord Vanserra kissed her cheeks, then put a broad hand on each knee and shoved them apart until her toes touched the carpeting below. Lord Vanserra moved forward, using his own body to keep her from closing her legs once more.
He licked three of his fingers and slid them back up beneath the Lady's skirt. Lucien wrapped his arms around Elain and began to stroke the hair of her own mound, tracing the slit with only the very tip of his index finger. There was a gasp from across the room, the Lady's back arched, and Lucien slid his finger down between her lips.
Skirts blocked the other Elain's sex from sight, but Lucien knew what his female liked. He teased her entrance, stroking the edges of the opening without actually dipping his fingers inside. The ridge at the back was especially sensitive, and Elain rolled her hips into his touch.
Lucien pulled her back to rest against his shoulder, making it easier for his fingers to work. Reclining across the room, Lady Vanserra's whimpers had turned fully into high-pitched gasps. Lucien matched the stroke of his finger to those gasps.
When she loosed a soft cry Lucien took the signal to slide his finger up, up into Elain. She took hold of her own breasts, playing with herself while her hips swept against Lucien's hand. Sooner than their counterparts across the room, Lucien slipped a second and even third finger into his wife.
Together they watched Lord Vanserra fuck Lady Vanserra with his hand. His mouth was now latched onto hers. He gave her only short gasps of air while his finger probed for that soft patch of skin that would make her go insane. The other hand rolled a soft pink nipple between his fingers, gently pinching and flicking at it.
He paused a moment and she let out a soft cry as a second finger filled her. Elain could remember how strange that felt her very first time- like she was filled right to the edge of endurance. Lady Vanserra's breasts were hard and full, leaving even Elain's mouth watering. Lord Vanserra had not sampled those delights yet- but neither fully had Lucien. He played with them with his free hand, but wasn't willing to lose his view of the show.
There were several short, quick gasps from the Lady and Elain smiled, "She's about to climax."
"I wonder if she's a squirter too," Lucien laughed as he drove his hand into Elain harder and faster. The sound of her wet core sucking on his hand was as much an aphrodisiac for him as the moans from Lady Vanserra were for Elain.
A crackling static began to build beneath the surface of Elain's body, born of Lucien's touch. Her hips rode against his hand, encouraging it to rise faster and faster. She moaned in time with Lady Vanserra as both Lucien and his twin pressed down on their wives' knots.
"Come on," Lucien whispered, his hand moving so fast it was nearly a blur. "Fuck my hand."
"Come on," Lord Vanserra demanded. He ripped the blindfold off Lady Vanserra, "Look at me when you come."
Her gaze was unfocused at first, but she immediately looked down to the hand filling her body. She couldn't see past the wrist. Lady Vanserra gasped, but Lord Vanserra grabbed her chin and forced her to look up.
His gaze burned through her and her back arched as he pressed hard against the rippling skin deep inside her. With a wordless shout her whole body began to quake. Her hands thrashed against the bindings, not sure if she wanted to push him away or pull him in closer. Her thighs shook with the force of her release as she drew a shuddering break and cried out again.
Across the room, Elain squeezed her breast hard enough to send a jolt of pain through her body and came- as Lucien preferred- in a burst of moisture that dampened his hand.
He quickly undid the stays of his trousers as Elain's orgasm broke. He didn't want to lose sight of the couple as Lord Vanserra stood and began to remove the rest of his own clothing, leaving Lady Vanserra to shudder as fantom bolts of pleasure arced through her body.
Lucien grabbed the tea table nearby. With a tug it shimmered and broke away from the dream-version. The newly corporeal teapot crashed to the ground and shattered into bolts of light and sparks as he swept an arm across the top, removing any obstacles.
Lady Vanserra's eyes widened as Lord Vanserra stood, wholly nude and stroking his thick cock erect.
"How does he do it?" Lucien whispered as he grabbed the back of Elain's head and hauled her up. Bound to the curule as she was there was no hope of her getting her footing. During the act, however, Elain loved to be handled roughly.
Her neck arched back as Lucien tugged at her hair and she smiled wickedly, "No more foreplay. One long, slow thrust for the little virgin."
"And are you a little virgin?" Lucien whispered, his voice harsher than normal.
"Cauldron, no," she laughed and he shoved her forward so that her hips hit the edge of the table and her top half fell. The stance was awkward with the curule dictating where her legs could go. It forced her ass out further and Lucien delivered one sharp swat to the swollen lips between her legs.
Elain groaned something barely intelligible but profoundly obscene. Lucien looked over at Lord Vanserra as he crawled forward on the chair, pausing only to hook his wife's knees over the crooks of his arms. As he pressed forward, slowly lining the head of his cock up with her entrance, Lucien moved into position.
Lady Vanserra drew a strangled breath as her husband began to ease into her at long last.
Lucien, meanwhile, pressed himself against Elain's entrance, grabbed her hips, and slammed in without finesse.
She howled in wanton pleasure at the sensation of being filled in one crashing wave. The Lady Vanserra across the room threw her head back and was looking up at the ceiling with tears in her eyes as her lord slowly slid into her, giving her the courtesy of a gentle, smooth entrance.
With one hand, Lucien pinned Elain's skirts up so that he could watch his member part her and enjoy the sheen of moisture that quickly coated his length. The other hand pressed hard against Elain's back, pinning her down.
Lady Vanserra seemed to reach a breaking point at long last. She twisted her wrists, pulling free from the binding, and took Lord Vanserra's head between her hands. He seemed surprised- until she pulled him into a deep, hard kiss. The kind of kiss he'd given her while his fingers danced in her core. Her legs curled around his hips and helped pull him in slowly until he was seated to the hilt.
Elain was clutching the edge of the table, so Lucien wrapped his hands around hers, abandoning the skirts. He used his body to hold her in place now, and rested his chin on her shoulder so they could watch together as he thrust and Lord Vanserra began to slowly rotate his hips, grinding his shaft against her hips and using it to tease her inner walls.
Lady Vanserra moaned, then broke off their kiss to gasp for breath. Her husband pulled out as far as her wrapped legs would allow before driving back into her. This pace was faster than before, yet still patient and strong.
The so-called 'little virgin' wouldn't last long- that much was evident from the way her hips started to roll on their own. Elain was trembling as Lucien slammed into her hard enough to lift the edge of the table.
"I think- there!" Elain squeaked at a particularly sharp thrust. She managed to free two fingers from beneath her husband's to point at the edge of the room. A distinct shine now marked the walls, spreading slowly outwards.
"What is that?" Lucien asked, he slowed his pace somewhat.
"The dream ends while you're inside me," Elain pushed herself back, unwilling to surrender the cock a second too soon. "When the dream ends-" she gasped, "-I expect to wake up-" a sharp cry, "-like this."
"I promise," Lucien whispered as Lady Vanserra's cries filled the room and the whole scene faded away.
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Lucien's back, neck, and torso screamed in protest as he quickly rolled over in bed.
He didn't have a chance to gauge his surroundings or take any rational stock of the situation. Elain's eyes fluttered open as he settled between her legs and shoved his already hard cock into her in a single thrust. She was hot and wet and ready- and she screamed his name as he filled her.
The image of Lord Vanserra fucking his Lady was still fresh in both of their minds as Lucien's hips slammed home into Elain. Her silken insides wrapped around him as she clawed at his back and tried to use her heels to force him in harder and deeper.
Lucien wrapped his arms around Elain's back and hauled her up to ride him, giving her the depth she craved. One thing that little Lord would never think to do for his wife- Lucien slid his hand between them and gathered some of the dripping moisture from her sex. He reached around and the next time Elain lowered onto his cock he pressed hard against her other entrance until the rosebud parted and accepted only the slim white tip of his finger.
"Yes!" Elain cried out as he forced more inside. Lucien could feel her walls quaking against his shaft. It was only a small climax, and he wouldn't let it steal from the main show.
He shoved Elain off of him and flipped her over so that her perfect round ass was on full display. Lucien bit each cheek hard before shoving his cock back inside her gaping core and his middle finger into her tightest hole.
Elain clawed at the sheets, crying out as his thrusts became slower and deeper still. He reached around a slim leg to stroke her knot hard, rebuilding whatever might have faded in the transition between dream and reality.
The pleasure was too much for Elain to fight against. She clenched her core and forced her thighs together as much as possible, making her core tighter. Lucien's cock ground hard against her innermost walls and she screamed his name and came hard. Elain's entire body shook as spasms wracked it, but Lucien paid no mind to his mate. She wouldn't want him to anyways. He picked up his pace instead.
Lucien slammed harder and faster into her until he gripped her thighs hard enough to bruise and came with his own wrenching cry.
Elain's eyes were barely open as heat filled her, triggering another small orgasm. Her husband flooded her core as her toes curled and a soft smile lit the corners of her lips. Lucien collapsed on her back, finally aware of his aching muscles from the accident the night before.
"Good boy," Elain whispered. She reached back to stroke his long red hair.
"You too, Lady Vanserra," Lucien purred in her ear. His hand was still wedged between her knot and the bed, and he forced it to make small, indistinct swirls.
Elain gasped and tightened her grip on the sheets. Lucien looked up over her back and saw the incense burner he'd dragged up from the Vault of the High Lords- now filled with the ashen remains of a spent stick.
He had a feeling it was behind whatever just happened to them in that dream world.
"We should take that back to Rhys," Elain followed his gaze, though how her hips were rolling against his hand.
"Eventually," Lucien growled. He ignored the aching in his back and reached over to pull the spent stick out. A small bundle of incense sat beside the burner and he took a fresh line and set it into the center. "I'm not done playing with you yet, though."
Lucien lit the incense with a flair of power and ground against Elain's knot until its own magic filled the air and dragged them under once more.
The next time Lucien woke, Elain had vanished.