I'd rather have died on that goddess-forsaken battlefield.
Soren's crimson eyes crept open just enough to perceive that it was early evening, and he was being carried to the shelter of a shallow cave a few paces ahead. He'd been saved, dragged away from the frenzy of blades and spells flung across a corpse-ridden plain, dried blood caked into his robes over a deep gash across his back. Yet while his life had been spared, he was filled with dread nonetheless.
It seemed his savior had yet to notice that he'd regained some measure of consciousness. His arm had been slung across someone's shoulders, and that someone's arm held him steady across his waist. Because of this angle, when his eyes managed to open, he saw breasts. And he noticed light, breathable fabric in shades of green. And a glimpse of a tail covered in reddish-blonde fur.
Lethe.
If only he had the strength to voice the contempt he felt at this realization.
Just let me bleed out in peace, you mangy cat.
The strategist had begun an impressive litany of insults in his mind by the time he was deposited on an uneven, rocky floor. His frustration kept his mind from his injuries to an extent, but this new position brought a new wave of stinging pain. Uttering a breathless gasp, Soren fought to draw in a single shaking breath and trampled his instinct to cry out. This did not keep him from noticing a derisive sigh from Lethe as she knelt beside him.
"You're conscious. And perhaps less fragile than I'd figured. Cooperate and I'll help you." For a minute or two, the pair struggled to remove the mantle and cloak around the mage's shoulders. The fabric was blood stained and torn, but it needed to be out of the way, and it would be better than nothing as a pillow.
Soren spoke as Lethe shoved the balled-up garment under his head, his breath ragged and shallow,
"I suppose… you'll… expect gra- gratitude…"
"I'll take my thanks from the commander," the laguz grumbled, turning Soren's body over from his side onto his stomach, "for whatever reason, he favors you, so I'll keep you alive for his sake."
"Aagh!" Soren gasped, his fists clenched tightly enough to mark his palms. Lethe had pulled the bloody cloth of his robes from the skin of his back without warning, bringing up torn flesh with it. A bitter remark died on his tongue - the mage knew that lingering on the process would only cause greater pain over a longer stretch of time. At least the furry idiot was competent enough to manage a battle wound. As he considered this, Soren resolved not to allow himself to cry out in pain even once more.
Lethe moved with well-honed focus. She was no healer, but any soldier worth their claws ought to know the basics of medical care on the field. Prying the damp fabric from his skin, she examined the wound while retrieving an herb concoction from a pouch around her waist. It wasn't pretty- the wound had begun healing itself, but not well. Coating her hands in the laguz-made blend of oils and ground leaves, she covered the gash and surrounding flesh thoroughly and unflinchingly. It didn't look pleasant, and Lethe knew from scores of previous battles of her own exactly what kind of pain this beorc was enduring. Through her distaste for the mage, she had to admit that she was impressed that he bore it so well.
His stoicism is more than mere arrogance, it seems.
While Lethe made this small concession in his favor, she resented the duty she'd taken on. A rambling and vitriolic monologue ran through her mind, which grasped for any distraction from being made to serve Soren- to touch him, even. Beorc were infuriating. And foolhardy. And weak. This one was no different. He was puny. His skin was pale and soft, where it wasn't sliced apart. He had none of the bulk and sineau that Laguz men had. Granted, he was fit enough to stay beside Commander Ike in battle. That was all. Just enough muscle to survive a soldier's lifestyle. Barely.
Lethe wore a smug grimace on her face looking down at him. How had he even survived this long, looking like this? He was hardly even taller than she, and so… pretty. Very, very pretty, actually.
"Get off." Soren snarled, knuckles white as he clenched his fists and pushed himself up from the ground, "I'll bandage it myself."
Lethe felt a low hiss staid in the back of her throat, anger mixing with relief from that confusing train of thought.
"No, you won't. You don't have a good angle and you'll make a mess of it."
The mage managed to sit upright, and he scoffed at the cat-woman's words, but flinched in pain as the air left his chest. Arguing with her would take more strength than he could afford. As such, he situated himself sitting upright, then slowly and carefully removed his outer robes, then tunic, waiting in only the close-fitted pants underneath while Lethe tore his cloak into uneven, frayed bandages. In short order, his firm but slender torso was wrapped in makeshift dressings. Getting to her feet as soon as her task was done, she tossed a small corked vial to him.
"Here- for the pain, and to speed the healing."
"I know what a vulnerary is." Soren said, then downed the bitter potion, and watched her make her way to the cave entrance to survey the field below them. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt the absence of Lethe's hands, but he chased these thoughts away with practised ease.
Night had fallen, and the two remained silently within their own thoughts for some time. Eventually, with an irritable sigh, the Laguz returned to where Soren sat, reviewing some of the more obscure text of his spell tome by the light of a magical flame cradled in his palm.
"Looks like we've holed up in that old fortress, and the enemy is positioning for a seige."
The tactician uttered a laugh that came out more like a snort.
"Funny?"
"Predictable." He replied with a shrug, "And pitiable. I've already briefed Ike on what to do in this exact scenario. A seige is about preparation and resources, and we have an abundance of both."
"You sound confident." Lethe muttered, some doubt evident in her expression. Soren brushed a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear and tilted his head to glance toward her.
"If we weren't able to take them immediately with a force this size, we'd find shelter. We find shelter, and a complacent enemy would follow. Said complacent enemy wouldn't know that I've arranged for three times the supplies that we ordinarily travel with. Meanwhile, Ike will instruct available bird-tribe Laguz to carefully patrol the area from above. Our foes see bird Laguz patrolling, and reason that this will be our gambit to send for reinforcements- then, while they watch the skies, a small team on foot slips by in the brush of the forest, where, even if spotted, it will be difficult for cavalry to follow or arrows to hit their mark." Soren punctuated his explanation with the 'snap' of his book closing in his hands.
"So you're saying they'll burn through more resources than we will in the seige, and then our reinforcements overwhelm them." Lethe's ears twitched with interest. Soren shrugged again.
"More or less."
Violet eyes followed the stream of raven-black hair down the mage's shoulders and arms, landing lamely on the cave floor. Yes, she had saved his life today - but how many times had he saved her life without her knowledge?
"Help me take off those bandages," she directed, kneeling beside him, "there's a small brook nearby- I'll wash and re-apply these before we rest for the night."
Given the circumstances, it would be foolish to try to regroup with the others with the enemy forming a sea of weapons and armor between them. With healing items and a Branded's natural recovery rate, Soren would be well enough to move and fight within days, but no two fighters alone could carve through the wall of soldier's separating them from their allies. The strategist was well aware of this, but resolved to get some rest despite these abysmal circumstances while Lethe kept watch.
The Laguz meditated on the scents around her. For once, the stench of metal was far away from her, as well as that of the Beorc who carried it with them. Lethe's senses basked in the foliage, the animals who hid from the conflict in the valley, the air that, for once, was not burdened with blood. From here, far from the torchlight that beorc used to make themselves feel safe, she could see stars. She was a soldier, certainly, but this break from the trappings of warfare was welcome refreshment.
But, she thought with a raised eyebrow, shouldn't she be able to smell at least one beorc?
She turned toward the mage who slept silently on the floor of the cave, near where the wall began to slope upward. Focusing for a moment, she truly couldn't catch his scent. Her brows furrowed deeply, and she took a step closer, then another. Nothing. The evening was pleasantly temperate, but Lethe felt a chill between her shoulder blades.
With all of the grace of a practiced hunter, she crouched down and silently pawed her way closer to Soren. The cat-woman hardly seemed to breathe when she reached him, poised and still as a statue on all fours beside him. His features were porcelain, undisturbed, yet not quite peaceful. Lowering her head with pointed ears flattened back, Lethe tried to catch the mage's scent, her breath barely brushing his neck as she leaned in towards him. Her heart was racing, and that realization caused her chest to lurch uncomfortably. What was this man up to? What sort of magic could cause such a strange scent?
Without thinking, she leaned in closer. Errant strands of soft black hair tickled the side of her face, but she was too focused to care. Finally, she caught something. It was subtle, unique, and undeniably appealing; not as coarse as the scent of a muscled warrior, yet not as delicate as a Heron. His scent was a puzzle, but worse, it was temptation. Lethe became aware of the heat both across her cheeks and between her legs. A little more, she told herself, just a little more of the scent. Just a little more warmth, and a little more pleasure.
Yet as it happened, Lethe was unfamiliar with how light a sleeper Soren was.
Upon reaching the faintest hint of awareness, the mage felt a body very near to his, and so kept his eyes shut and his posture relaxed as in sleep. His first thoughts were of a nighttime ambush, either at the hands of enemies from the field, or his so-called savior, but acting rashly would only cause this presumed-foe to react aggressively in kind. As moments passed in silence and Soren felt little movement but of the warm air between himself and this other figure, he began to reassess his assumptions. These sensations were too tentative, too… gentle.
Laying on his side, it was likely he could open one eye - that closer to the ground - without detection. When he did, he immediately regretted his decision. It was indeed Lethe who hovered over him, though for what purpose, Soren could hardly fathom. The view that greeted him in the washed-out glow of moonlight certainly didn't help him think clearly. Only inches from his face, two modest but shapely breasts strained against fabric which pushed back against them in a way that created appealing curves of flesh against flesh. Tearing his opened eye from these after a moment's viewing, he found only more tantalizing angles. Down the path of her firm, toned stomach, then beyond the rounded curvature of her hips, the Branded's eye focused squarely on what should be just empty air. But that open space was framed by two muscled yet womanly thighs, and worse still, the subtle swell of the mound between them.
He felt an instant of fleeting contact at his neck, just below his ear. Some part of Lethe's face must have brushed the smallest space of exposed skin. Her nose? Lips? Soren couldn't tell. Every ounce of focus he could muster worked to restrain his voice and racing pulse.
Despite himself, his lips parted, allowing a single heated breath. Lethe's pupils dilated rapidly. With near supernatural grace, she leapt backwards, still on all fours, her gaze digging into his form. Her tail whipped back and forth anxiously behind her. Something about Soren had… shifted. His scent, his heart rate, his posture, all seemed to react. Gradually, cautiously, she relaxed. The corner of her lip twitched. How absurd, getting so jumpy over one wounded beorc. In fact, the shift she'd observed was likely just his injury troubling him in his sleep. How utterly ridiculous.
Four days passed. Between bouts of bitter verbal sparring, the two fighters tolerated each other. Lethe hunted small game for their food, and Soren healed rapidly all the while. It was mid afternoon, and if the tactician indulged in appreciating the soothing warmth of the sun and the slight tug of a gentle breeze, he could almost forget the daunting force that separated him from Ike and the others. Yet if his thoughts strayed too far from his duties, they inevitably found their way to Lethe. No further nighttime incidents had occurred, but Soren found his mind swerving toward the memory of the softness of her breasts, the swell of her thighs, and so on. It made for an infuriating distraction.
The tactician also felt some resentment at having spent days at a time without the comfort of his robes, requiring him to bare his upper body without any substitute for his shredded and gored clothing. Still, this did benefit his wounds, and allowed Lethe to regularly observe and treat them. Testing his body's range of motion, he rotated one arm forward, then backward, then repeated the movement with the other. As skin moved over muscle, the pull against the healing flesh on his back ached and stung; still, this pain was negligible compared to what he'd endured days earlier. He could excuse this remarkable improvement as the effects of Laguz herbs and vulneraries, but Soren recognised it for what it was: the benefits of his cursed blood.
The first sign of Lethe's return was her elongated shadow cast into the mouth of their cave, bloated around the shoulders by the outline of some animal carcass. Said carcass - a deer, it turned out - was deposited onto the ground just outside the cave opening with a sickening, meaty 'thlump.' The hunter brushed her hands off on her thighs, while Soren gave the dead animal a derisive sideways glance.
"You spoil me." he muttered flatly. Lethe's violet eyes rolled to the side in time with her hand moving to her hip.
"Start a fire. It'll be easier with magic."
"I'm not hungry."
Lethe noticed that, as per usual, Soren's mercenary priorities rested firmly with his own personal benefit. She also noticed that, at this angle, the swoop of his jawline created a uniquely lovely curve. But such thoughts were harder to manage than another argument.
"As if your puny appetite is the only factor," she snarled bitterly.
"I won't exert myself without cause." an edge began to creep into his voice.
"Well, you're never hungry." her tone sharpened, and she plopped down cross-legged across from Soren on the cave floor, "But we'll never get out of here if you won't put enough meat in your frail beorc body to travel and fight." At this, his eyes finally rose to her fiery glare, though when he spoke, his focus flickered between her line of sight and the pink, pouting lips underneath.
"If I'm so frail, then perhaps you'd like to make that fire yourself. Ought to be easy enough even for an empty-headed brute." sneering, he cocked his head to the side, the adrenaline of the escalating argument bolstering his affected arrogance. Lethe's upper lip curled unpleasantly, a subtle growl rumbling high in her throat. Her posture tensed, shifting into that of an adversary. Soren recognized it well, yet if anything, this would be an excellent opportunity.
"Yes, very well, attack me," he went on, leaning back so that his hand rested inches from the spell tome wrapped in his torn cloak behind him, "I dislike lying to Ike - this way I can tell him truthfully that I acted only in retaliation when I drag you back in pieces. In fact, I've noticed how tense you've been these last few days while I've become healthier and stronger," his voice dipped down near to a whisper, "Tell me, beast, do I intimidate you?"
Cat-like eyes went wide with fury. He always knew exactly what to say, and exactly what string to pull to get a reaction. It was true that he welcomed and anticipated an attack. Perhaps he'd even planned several steps beyond the first blow. But Lethe knew one thing he would not have prepared for.
In a frenzied moment, the warrior propped herself up onto her hands and knees, and just as a single one of Soren's fingers brushed the binding of his spellbook, her lips pressed to his with such force that he wavered backward for a moment. Lethe pushed her tongue past the mage's lips, and she could feel his shocked intake of breath as they parted. She had guessed correctly - the strategist could never have anticipated her actions, nor the effect they had on him. Suddenly, his entire body burned and ached in a way he found both deeply distressing, and intensely thrilling. Throughout this kiss, he felt that he could hardly keep up, that he was being pulled along into something exciting but dangerous. For an instant, Lethe broke their contact, perhaps only to witness Soren's reaction. Sneering bitterly, he whispered,
"How dare you."
Yet as the words left him, he found himself reaching for her, and pulling her back to him. A roaring wave of new sensations had enveloped the mage; the soft yet compelling movements of her lips, the taste of her tongue, the nearly imperceptible moans in her throat which he felt more than heard. For the first time he could recall, his mind was silent, dominated entirely by sensory input. He felt Lethe's fingernails along the tender skin of his neck on their way into his long hair, the fleeting contact sending a violent shiver down his spine. As she wove her fingers into the soft black locks, her lips left his and traced a path along his jawline toward his ear. It was too much - her nails grazing the back of his neck and scalp, her teeth nipping heatedly at his ear, all making his head spin and his pulse race. Lethe wouldn't let up, and she crawled closer to him, her breasts flush against his chest as she nibbled on his earlobe. His head tilted back, his body arched into hers, and an erotic, gasping breath escaped his lips. The Laguz pressed her advantage, whispering tauntingly into his ear,
"I'd bet you've never done any of this before."
Soren gritted his teeth,
"Never… ne-needed it…"
"That so?" her hold on his hair tightened, tugging at him aggressively as she positioned herself straddled over his lap and looked down at him with a cocky fanged smirk, "You look pretty needy right now."
In truth, the warrior was profoundly enjoying this view of Soren. His complexion was tinted red with frustration and arousal, and his lips, now thoroughly kissed, were full and set into a pouty snarl. As she lowered herself onto his lap, however, she just barely stifled a startled moan at the feeling of his member pressing against her inner thigh behind two layers of clothing. Her chest pounded, and she could feel her lower body heating up with needs of her own, but she had to maintain control. With both hands now tangled in his hair, she yanked him into another forceful kiss, noticing begrudgingly that he had already learned to match her pace and mirror her movements. Lethe felt his length throbbing eagerly against her lower lips and smirked into their kiss. No doubt he would soon be so desperate, he would beg to have her.
The brush of the cool air of the cave against her chest alerted her to the fact that Soren had somehow undone the tied front of her tunic without her noticing. Sliding fabric out of the way, his hands pressed against the soft flesh of her breasts, pushing them together in front of him. Each of his thumbs quickly found her nipples, which rapidly stiffened in response to his gentle, careful movements. Lethe couldn't hold back a tiny yelp of pleasure, though she tried to camouflage it by nipping and sucking at Soren's bottom lip. Soon though, he pulled away, still mercilessly teasing her breasts with his fingertips.
"Sensitive little kitten." he mused, his crimson eyes leveling on hers, which couldn't hide the intensity of the pleasure she felt. The strategist had noticed her growing arousal, even as she'd toyed with him. As subtle as she had tried to be, he had noticed Lethe slowly pressing herself against his manhood, rocking her hips to rub his hardened shaft against her warmth. Given the difference in physical strength between them, she could have her way with him if she chose to, but Soren knew that if he pushed her just right, he could have her begging for him.
Taking care to move slowly enough to irritate Lethe, he slid his hands down her sides, traversing the curve of her waste, then the luscious swell of her hips, feeling each inch of skin through the thin fabric of her tunic. Wordlessly, he leaned forward and his hands now resting at her lower back gently demanded that she lean into him as well. Soren's lips met one of her hardened nipples, sticking prominently out from her lovely, rounded breasts. He could feel the perky flesh pushing back against him as he sealed the erect little nub between his lips, flicking it repeatedly with the tip of his tongue. With each pass, he felt the Laguz shudder, her breath hitching in her throat as she fought to keep down her sighs of pleasure.
"You… bastard… Hng!" Lethe's body tensed at the sharp sensation of teeth around her vulnerable nipples. Soren, of course, felt this shift, and felt her breasts pushed even more firmly into his mouth as her arms drew in around them. Even without prior practical experience, basic anatomical understanding and a keen attention to detail served him well. The longer the tactician spent with his arms around her womanly body, listening to the gasps of breath that betrayed her arousal to him, the more he learned about how to further tame her.
Just at the moment when she realized she couldn't take any more of Soren's teasing at her chest, Lethe felt him pull away. She knew immediately that he must mean to attempt a new strategy, and hoped that her strength would overcome his wit. He would not readily show his cards, however, and he slowly let his careful hands glide back up along her sides, then down, and up again. Next, in silence, he finished unlacing the ties of her shirt and pulled it down around her waist, exposing more of her to the evening air. When his hands found her bare skin once more, his thumbs applied some pressure, and his eyes diligently followed the curves of her fit body resisting them. The warrior felt her cheeks warming as his unfaltering gaze took in every inch of her hips, her stomach, and chest.
"What- what in the world are you doing?" She demanded, all while the fur at the base of her tail stood on end. Soren saw an opportunity to press his advantage; he had slowly come to realize that her first kiss was likely a surprise tactic more than anything else. He had to admit, this was not a bad idea.
The Branded met her violet eyes and, stone-faced and calm, said,
"I'm admiring your body." He paused here to let the shock of a genuine compliment do its work. As his words painted her complexion a vibrant red, he cupped her breasts in front of him, squeezing them gently and pushing them together merely to enjoy the aesthetic.
"I like these," he went on, "even if they happen to be yours."
Lethe snarled, the fur of her ears bristling. This infuriating Beorc! She could no longer allow him leeway to taunt her like this.
With all of her built up frustration, she seized him by the wrists and pulled him up and flush against her. Her tail whipped side to side behind her, and she lay her teeth onto the soft skin of Soren's neck.
"A-aah-!" He gave a delicious, whimpering gasp as the feline woman rolled her tongue firmly across delicate nerves that he had never realized could feel so good. Noting that he was adequately off-balance, she released his hands, and he rather un-gracefully caught himself before he fell onto his injured back. Still, Lethe showed little mercy. She leaned against his body, supporting herself with hands on the ground behind Soren's arched, slender form, as her tongue and teeth continued to punish his fair skin.
"A-are you… nng! Ma-marking me…?" Try as he may, Soren lacked the strength to make this question sound as indignant as he'd like, instead whispering it into her pointed ear. With half-lidded eyes, Lethe trailed her tongue along the contour of the mage's collar bone. Then, to reprimand him for the foolish question, she nipped aggressively at his bare shoulder, causing him to flinch, breathing in sharply.
"You know nothing of how this works, so just shut up and be grateful." She growled, her heated breath deceptively gentle across Soren's neck.
"I… know enough…" he murmured, though he involuntarily arched into Lethe as she proceeded to leave a trail of bites downward along his chest, "I know that… the beast tribe mark their partners prior to coupling… mmm!" His head tilted back, as she bit an exquisitely sensitive spot near the top of his abdomen. The mage barely managed, "which means that… you intend to- to make me your mate…"
Lethe had to get him to stop talking. Every word was carefully calculated to crawl under her skin and further his influence over her. Moving with renewed determination, her hands found the drawstring at the front of his pants. This close, her cat-like ears detected the heavy pounding of heart racing. With a playful yet cruel smirk, she tugged down his clothing with nearly enough force to tear the fabric. Once she had freed his member from the confines of his clothes, she slowly but firmly ran a single finger from top to bottom.
Damnit. He was bigger than she'd expected. Not comically so, but enough to set her lower body aching with anticipation. Her tail twitched, and her ears perked up as she examined his hardened cock, which throbbed in her hand all the while. Though she was unable to entirely conceal the hunger in her gaze, Lethe managed to maintain composure for the moment, and began stroking his length firmly and skillfully. In short order, she could see Soren's chest rise and fall with labored, panting breaths. His lips were just barely parted, allowing soft sighs and moans as she ran her hands over him, pumping his hard member base to tip, pausing to massage the head each time she met it. Finally, his witty banter had abandoned him, and Lethe had regained the upper hand.
Wearing a self-satisfied grin, she brought a hand up to her lips, lending it a bit of saliva before returning it to Soren's eager member. This new slick warmth shook the tactician's senses all over again, and for the first time, he gave an unrestrained groan of lustful pleasure. As observant as he was, he couldn't possibly know the effect this had on the Laguz, flooding her body with anxious heat, causing her to become so shamefully wet and aroused. She had to make him moan like that again. Redoubling her efforts, Lethe focussed one hand entirely on the head of his cock, squeezing the glans rhythmically. Meanwhile, her other hand joined in, searching for new weak spots. In short order, she found her stride, one hand still pulsing around the head of Soren's rigid, twitching member, while the other squeezed the base and occasionally slid up, then down his shaft.
Lethe felt a bit of hot pre-cum from the mage's tip. His eyes were unfocused, half closed, and wordessly begging with her as his hips began to work his cock more firmly into her hands. It was a sight the Laguz had never even imagined possible; he was beautiful, lustful and passionate as urgent moans passed his lips again and again. As she observed him, their eyes finally met. Her pace slowed, and Soren began to catch his breath.
"Lethe." he spoke her name in earnest, his tone completely free of the usual scorn it carried, "Lethe, please…"
In truth, neither of the two was certain whether this was a sincere plea, or a gambit to get what he desired. Regardless, her entire body warmed and ached at his words. Face flushed, her lower body tense and eager for him, she slowly nodded. Lethe grabbed the ragged black cloak from beside Soren and tossed it onto the cave floor, spread out so she could more comfortably position herself on it. Next, the strategist watched nearly spellbound as she fully undressed, paying exceptionally close attention when she turned away and slid her shorts down those fit, curving legs. Finally, the laguz lowered herself onto her elbows and knees, the arch of her spine presenting her backside to him, with her tail accenting its thick, feminine swell. Soren's breath caught in his throat, but he forced himself to move to his place directly behind her. Of course, this is how the beast tribe traditionally mate…
"What - What's taking you so long?" Lethe demanded, glancing back at him angrily, though her complexion still bore a charming blush.
"Quiet." Soren commanded, and he took his time observing as he cupped a handful of her ass, watching the erotic way her flesh pushed back against his fingers.
"Don't you dare to give me orders!" Lethe snapped, even as she felt him spread the lips of her pussy and brush the tip of his cock against her, "You were begging for me mere moments ag- oooh..! Mmm!"
As if he hardly even heard her, Soren began to push into her soaked lower lips, watching as her folds slowly swallowed inch by inch of his manhood. His chest pounded with a thrill of conquest unlike anything he'd ever felt before. By the time his body was flush against her, his cock burrowed as far into her warmth as he could fit, Lethe's mouth hung agape and every strand of fur on her tail stood on end. The warrior bit her lower lip in an effort to stifle her shameful, ecstatic moans, and was partially successful. Still, her body arched upward like a stretching housecat, and she could already feel her lower muscles tensing and squeezing around him.
"Damnit…" Soren grunted, shifting his hips so that his cock subtly moved inside of her, pressing against the walls of her soaking wet pussy, "is it always thi- this tight…?" He feigned annoyance, while in truth, he was enthralled by the sensation of her body massaging his member. Just as Lethe attempted a response, the mage's movements changed, pulling and thrusting into her more firmly now. Clenching the fabric of the cloak beneath her, she struggled to catch her breath and slide her legs further apart for him. Finally, she managed,
"S'your fault for… having a thick cock… hnn!" Though Soren didn't reply, she distinctly felt him twitch and swell inside of her, straining against her and hitting new sensitive spots with every thrust. At first, his pacing was awkward and unsure, but Soren learned quickly. In little time, he had observed her reactions and adjusted his movements and timing accordingly. Soon, the two had established a rhythm, their bodies moving with one another with a wild but natural passion. The mage felt the strain on his injury, but the sting of half-healed flesh couldn't distract him from these new pleasurable sensations. Lethe's moans were sweet and feminine despite herself, and each one that the strategist forced out of her made him long for the next. Yet, when the head of his cock hit a particularly sensitive spot, she wouldn't make a sound; Soren quickly realized this was because she refused to utter the kind of pleasurable cry it inspired in her. Stubborn woman.
Without fully realizing it, Soren's hand slid up the trembling curve of her ass until it met the base of her tail. At first, he meant only to move the offending appendage out of his line of sight so he could better observe his shaft plowing into her from behind. When he began to handle it, however, Lethe let out a precious, delighted little squeak. Soren's eyebrows rose and his face flushed to a deep red. What an incredible, submissive sound. To test this new information, he ran his fingernails through her fur along several inches of her tail. The Laguz caught her breath, her entire body shivered, and he felt her warmth pulse and clench around him.
"Goddess-!" Soren gasped out, slowing his thrusts for fear he may reach his climax right then. Panting softly, he paused to ensure he could keep going, then resumed his investigation. Moving his pelvis just enough to continue massaging her inner walls, Soren took the base of Lethe's tail and tugged at it- hard enough to cause just a little bit of pain. Her ears fell back against her head, and between moans, he could swear he heard some sort of purring rumble in her throat. After another tug or two, he changed tactics once more; slowly, he stroked the length of her tail, his nails grazing the skin beneath her fur all the while. Her exquisite reactions continued, each whimpering moan and involuntary twitch of her lower body sending waves of arousal through Soren's core. The power he felt over the proud fighter as his pace quickened and he thrust into her heat was a potent drug- yet in a way, the hold this pleasure had on his senses had succeeded in taming him, as well. The tactician had become a slave to Lethe's body every bit as much as she had submitted to his.
This fact was not lost on the Laguz. She immensely resented how quickly he'd learned exactly how to move his hips, and exactly where to touch to send her sensitive body trembling. Her only solace was that she could tell his own stringent self control was slipping away from him. Still, if he didn't give in and cum soon…
"Hyaaaa-nnn!" Lethe's frame shivered head to toe, and the pleading, lustful cries she'd tried to hold back were ripped from inside of her. With startling precision, Soren had begun to scratch the fur at the very base of her tail. At the same time, he bucked his hips against her more roughly, dragging the tip of his curving member along the back of her pussy, where he knew she was most vulnerable. Gasping and panting for breath, Lethe lowered herself so her breasts and chin rested on the cloak beneath her. The mage's skillful fingers wouldn't let up at her tail, and she couldn't keep her legs from shaking conspicuously. She had to keep herself propped up though; she needed him to keep pounding into her aching, dripping pussy.
A new threshold of tension began to build inside of the Laguz, and her feline eyes rolled back as her face burned crimson. She was close. This stupid weakling was going to make her cum. Soon enough, even her voice betrayed her, and all she could manage were breathless whimpers amidst Soren's own low, lustful groans. Without thinking, Lethe murmured,
"Soren…! S-Soren- nnngh!"
He felt Lethe tighten almost unbearably around him, then release. Only this intense sensation could distract him from the rush of hearing his name uttered like that- full of wants and needs, holding nothing back. With a strength he hadn't realized he could muster with his injuries, he grabbed hold of her tail and pulled her back against him, shoving his hard length as deep into her as he could. Tilting his head back and letting out his own longing moans into the air, the mage reveled in his mate's climax. Lethe's body trembled in his hands, and with a final breathless cry, she let pleasure overtake her. This, in turn, finally pushed the stoic tactician over the edge; feeling her cum around his cock, hearing her unabashedly call his name, the overwhelming mental and physical simulation of it all was too much for him to endure.
The Laguz felt his manhood throb passionately inside of her, provoking and prolonging her orgasm. Even in the haze of her scattered thoughts, she could tell he was about to cum. However, this did not prepare her for how much she enjoyed it. The new heat she felt bursting deep inside of her, the pulsing of his cock with each shot of his orgasm, even the deviant thrill of allowing a non-laguz to mate with her- these sent her head spinning and her heart pounding. Without fully realizing it, Lethe had relaxed her legs, allowing Soren to hold her body against his until he finished. When he finally did, he gave a moan of exertion and relief, and held himself firmly within her for a moment before very slowly pulling away.
As with when he'd entered her, Soren made sure to watch his cock sliding out of her tight lower lips. Both of their bodies bore the mixture of their cum, and he felt a shiver of arousal at the sight of his own dripping down the inside of her thigh.
Lethe's tail twitched. She managed to catch her breath at last, then let her body fully slump down onto Soren's cloak. Turning halfway around on the ground to look up at the mage, she saw his chest still rose and fell dramatically with the strain of their mating. Her ears and eyebrows quirked up at his expression. He looked like he was struggling to process what had just happened, and if Lethe weren't doing much the same, she would have laughed. Eventually, it even occurred to her that he looked nearly perplexed, and that was an expression she had never once seen on him before. In a sort of cute, unguarded way, it was actually rather becoming. The feline gave a fanged, if still dazed grin, and muttered,
"You look ridiculous."
"Yeah?" Soren cleared his throat and brushed back a stray section of his bangs, "so do you."
Lethe rolled her eyes, then pushed herself up from the ground and took one more deep breath to collect herself. Soren lowered himself from a kneeling position to sit with his legs tucked under him. Neither said a word for either a few seconds or several minutes. It was still mid afternoon, but clouds had begun to gather outside the cave, so the nearby wildlife had sought out shelter. Laguz and Branded could each smell the rain to come by now. Soren absently combed his fingers through jet black hair, until he dared to break the silence.
"So, that."
"Yes." Lethe replied too hastily. Another silent moment. A little unsteady still, she rose to her feet.
"I'm- I'm going to go wash up. Get that fire started already."
Without even a request, she grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around herself for some measure of modesty. Soren wordlessly watched her head toward the direction of the brook they had been using to keep reasonably clean these past few days. He slowly exhaled, his mind still racing yet getting nowhere at all. Shaking his head, he blinked his eyes back into full focus.
"What in the Goddess' name…"