Dianthe shivered, tugging the thick Skaal coat tight against the ice flecked wind. She and Tachkal had travelled to the Skaal village in northern Solstheim, only because the Breton was wildly curious about the strange Nords. Her Dremora was less enthused, moving through hip deep snowdrifts with his hands stuffed under his arms. Dianthe had managed to wrap a thick red scarf around his throat but other than that he only wore his daedric armor. Periodically Dianthe would chug a potion for frost resistance, her face a chill burnt pink.
They arrived in the village just before dusk. Tachkal was the subject of more than one wary glance and low spoken murmur but for the most part the Nords remained to themselves. Asking around for a place to stay after exploring what they could stand after so many hours meandering through the cold, they were directed to a short squat hut. Shoving through doors, Dianthe groaned at the wall of steamy warm air that blew back her hood. Immediately the snow and ice coating the Dremora and Breton's armors began to melt, the feeling returning to their extremities as blood blushed back into their fingertips.
It was a bathhouse built over a natural hot spring. The proprietor showed them to a small, bare room. It was rustic like most everything related to the Skaal, only housing a single trunk, dish of candles, and palette of furs. It didn't take long until both had shucked their frost bitten clothing in favor of a towel before nearly bolting into the bathing area. Of course Dianthe had to remove her wooden leg in the process and Tachkal reluctantly carried her to the bath.
Dianthe slid into the water up to just below her nose, bubbling out a thankful moan. Beside her Tachkal sloshed into the water, leaning back against the rocky ledge and stretching out his long dark legs until he was covered up around his shoulders. The other bathers quickly removed themselves after spying the obsidian skinned Dremora's scarlet markings and ice coated horns. One moment they had company, the next Dianthe dunked her head underwater only to come up and find she and her Dremora alone in the steamy waters.
"You should try being more friendly," Dianthe advised, stretching her neck this way and that. Tachkal leveled a skeptical eye down at the girl who simply shrugged, smiling under the water. She moved through the semi-opaque hot spring to a deeper portion of the pool. Things had been a little strained after their rendezvous on the docks. Tachkal had been reserved around her since then, speaking to her even less than usual. There was still the faintest purple mark at the base of her jaw, but there had been nothing more exciting in the past few weeks other than Dianthe relearning how to walk.
Yawning, she scrubbed the oils and sweat from her face and body. She jumped when a claw scraped her back. Blinking warily over her shoulder she found Tachkal had moved to her side, running his calloused palms against her shoulders. "What are you doing?" she mumbled suspiciously.
"Washing your back, whore," the Dremora growled. Dianthe rolled her eyes but relaxed into his touch. She'd never figured out why he called her such things. It wasn't as if she went gallivanting around with every man and mer she ran into, by the gods she hadn't known anyone intimately in years. Tachkal's ministrations at the dock had been the first time she'd felt any stirrings between her legs in a long time.
She focused on working her fingers through her hair. After the encounter with General Carius and his ash spawn her hair had suffered. It had been shorn down until it lay only a few inches long, a decidedly boyish cut. Milore and Teldryn had both assured her she had feminine enough features to pull it off but Dianthe wasn't so sure. Beneath the water Tachkal's nails scraped up her sides, eliciting a shudder from the girl. She focused on ignoring his wandering hands.
Behind her, Tachkal tilted his head, wet strands of hair sticking to his neck and shoulders. Curiously he scraped his nails down her spine, holding her shoulder so she had to endure the pain. Dianthe gasped, futilely attempting to arch out of his reach. He smirked as red streaks blossomed against her lily pale back. There was something satisfying about marking her body. Sliding his hands down the underside of her arms he just felt the soft swell of her breasts before settling an iron grip around her hips. Dianthe shivered, only making Tachkal more curious.
Dianthe, to her credit, knew something was going on with her Dremora and attempted to move away. She didn't anticipate the toned arm wrapping around her middle and yanking her against the daedra's chest. She slapped the water, suddenly unbalanced before clutching at the black wrist pressing into her breasts. "Tachkal, let me g – " she choked as two thick fingers pushed into her mouth, silencing her command. The Dremora nuzzled her ear, raking his teeth against the curved pink skin.
"You talk too much," he rumbled, inclining his head to lick the length of Dianth's cheek. She tried to pull from his grip, trying to ignore her body's response beneath the water or how the air and daedra's ministrations had her nipples stiffening. Tachkal turned her in his arms, pulling her flush against his chest. He licked his fangs, staring intently at her pink lips stretched around his dark fingers. Dianthe's eyes widened at the royal purple tongue, never before realizing it was forked. Slowly he retracted his digits from her mouth, a string of saliva momentarily connecting them. He didn't give her a chance to utter a word before crushing his mouth against hers.
Dianthe squeezed her eyes shut, her thighs gripping around Tachkal's waist and fingers digging into his biceps. She didn't fight him as he clutched the back of her head and bit her bottom lip, pulling his fangs across the soft plump skin. His lips were boiling and hungry, his tongue burning as it delved into her mouth. Tentatively she responded, licking at his bizarre forked tongue. The growl that ripped from his throat made her start, once again falling prone to his attack.
Beneath the hot waters his hand began to wander, moving down to grip her ass. Dianthe yelped into his mouth, digging her nails against his shoulders. He smirked into the lusting kiss, kneading the thick flesh beneath his rough palm. Dianthe broke the kiss, dropping her cheek against his chest to catch her breath, dizzy from heat and lack of oxygen while he drifted to the edge of the pool, allowing Dianthe to rest against his lap. Shifting in his hold, she gasped at the stiff press of his arousal against her thigh. Tachkal grinned down at her, chuckling at her flush.
"I think we should go back to our room," Dianthe suggested shyly, yelping when the Dremora sharply stood from the hot water. She barely managed to cover herself in a towel before he strode from the bathing area. Tachkal all but tore down the door to their room, kicking it shut behind him with his mistress in his arms. He dropped her in the pelts, their hair and skin still damp, before ripping away his towel. Dianthe's heart seized, her hands clutching at the towel covering her chest when she finally got a look at the hard length the Dremora unabashedly exposed.
"Scared, slut?" Tachkal grinned, dropping to his knees before her, roughly spreading her legs. Dianthe shot up into a sitting position, grasping his shoulders, "wait!"
Tachkal grimaced, dark lips curling back to show his fangs, "what?"
Dianthe glanced around anxiously, heart hammering in her chest. Did she want this? If the ache at the apex of her thighs was any sign then yes, and badly. Yet she was still nervous, unsure if she was ready or capable after so many years. Even back then she hadn't particularly enjoyed her sexual escapades, performing her duties more out of obligation than want. But somehow she wanted to explore her partner.
"Lie down," she ordered. Glaring, Tachkal did as he was commanded, his immense body spreading out along the pelts. Dianthe took a moment to take in his form, clutching at her towel. His skin was charcoal black, shining in the scant candlelight. Bulging with toned muscle and knitted with cruel silver scars she followed the length of his body until her sights settled on the thick hardness laying against his belly.
His shaft was thick, plum black with a glistening head and matching set of weighty balls beneath. The glans glistened wetly. Tentatively, she slid her fingers across his inner thigh, marveling at the sheer heat his body threw off. She bit back a smirk at the tensing of the muscle beneath before drawing her fingertips to his member. She cupped his balls, each one large enough to fill her palm, before sliding up the length and rubbing the pad of her thumb against the head of his cock. She giggled nervously when he twitched beneath her touch, shyly introducing her other hand to the effort and simply exploring him. Dianthe traced the proud ridge of the glans, slid her finger against the slit, smearing a few drops of clear precum down his shaft and the bulging veins that textured his cock. Keeping one hand massaging his balls she removed her towel and settled between his legs. She lay on her stomach and with one last glance up into Tachkal's dark eyes, pressed her lips against his member.
She worshipped him like no other had, her warm mouth drawing up and down his dark cock. She kept her hands massaging his length, pressing soft licks and timid kisses against his head before dipping down to nuzzle and pull each of his balls against her mouth, licking and suckling. Tachkal dropped his head against the pelts, digging his claws into the furs. He wanted to be done with this, to knot his claws into her hair and force himself balls deep into her hot mouth, to face fuck her until he spilled every drop of seed down her throat until she choked. Instead he endured, grunting sharply at times and resisting the need to thrust into her mouth.
Taking a deep breath, exhaling against his sensitive skin, Dianthe began to take him into her. His girth stretched her lips while her tongue slid against his velvet flesh. The salty flavor filled her mouth as she slid her hands around his base, the other cupping and rolling his weighty balls. Dianthe squeezed her thighs together, her core already slick with arousal. She continued to work her lips and tongue, swallowing down more of Tachkal's thick cock until she finally managed to reach his base.
Ever so slowly she pulled back, gently scraping her teeth along the soft skin. Tachkal moaned, arching tightly as his nails tore strips from the pelts. Dianthe felt a pulse of domineering pleasure in her womanhood, marveling at how completely she controlled the Dremora. Only through her kindness did she allow him such pleasures, it was a shame she could be so cruel. Dianthe began to bob, undulating her tongue against the hard twitching cock, swirling the round head under her tongue and lips. She suckled and nipped at the tender skin, moaning against the twin weights as she pulled the burning shaft faster and deeper into her mouth. She twisted her fist around his base and massaged his balls with the other as she moved, her jaw forced open as wide as it could to accommodate his girth.
Tachkal was at his breaking point. He gripped Dianthe's hair and forced her down, grinding her nose against the base of his abdomen and let out a snarl as he bucked into her mouth. His body tightened, curling as he came. Dianthe's eyes watered as he came, his cum was a thick, abundant gel. The creamy liquid poured down her throat, the Dremora keeping her forced against him giving her no choice but to swallow the seemingly never ending pumps of cum. He continued to spill his seed in Dianthe's silken mouth, only letting her go when his arms went slack with the aftershocks of his bodily orgasm.
Dianthe leaned back, letting the plum black cock fall from her lips. The heavy white liquid threatened to pour from her lips, the sheer excess of it making it difficult for Dianthe to swallow it down. She brushed her fingers against her lips, quickly licking it from her fingertips. Tachkal shivered as the last of his seed spilled hotly over Dianthe's small breasts, his body finally falling slack against the pelts to catch his breath. Dianthe sat back, curiously smearing the cream over her nipples, laughing at her own debauched state. If she weren't in Sanguine's favor before she certainly was now.
Sucking her fingers clean, Dianthe crawled to his side, smiling fondly at Tachkal's delirious expression. She slid her fingers through his drying hair, her heart swelling when his obsidian eyes cracked open.
"I never thought you were actually a whore," he said hoarsely. Dianthe spluttered a flustered laugh, flushing even more than before. The Dremora smiled then, an unguarded openness showing for once in his expression. Unable to contain herself Dianthe leaned forward and gave him a small peck on the lips, sitting back and grinning. Tachkal sat up and pulled his mistress in to his naked lap, burying his nose in her hair and inhaling deeply while she squirmed in his arms.
"You know," she began, brushing the pad of her thumb against the bud of his nipple. The Dremora rumbled a query; too busy memorizing her scent to form words.
"It's not very fair that I had to do all the work and you had all the fun," she began coyly, biting her lip to stifle a moan as he licked and breathed against her ear.
"And what do you want me to do about that?" he murmured, dark lips, brushing against her sensitive flesh. Dianthe shuddered, scraping her nails against the hard bud of his nipple in retaliation. Digging her nails into his dark chest, she arched in his arms, biting his collarbone before breathing, "pleasure me."
Tachkal's nails bit into her soft skin, drawing blood. Dianthe sighed contentedly as the large daedric hands moved to her chest, kneading the small plush breasts and massaging his still warm cum against her pale pink nipples. He felt himself thickening again at the sight of this small woman wearing his marks and seed so willingly, her sweaty and flushed body arching hungrily for his touch. He smirked as her eyes fluttered shut when he laid her against the pelts, sliding his fingers past her plump lips. When she willingly sucked the long black digits he grinned. She may be his mistress, but she belonged to him. For now and forever.
Tachkal scraped his teeth against her breasts, biting until his fangs elicited pinpricks of blood. She quivered from his attention, groping the back of his head and attempting to force his lips closer to her sensitive breasts. He smirked, trailing his royal purple tongue down to her stomach, the foreign feeling of his forked tongue making Dianthe's toes curl. Moving between her thighs he lifted her legs, hooking one knee over his shoulder and on her shortened limb he pressed it wide against the furs. Slowly he dragged his rough palm against her moist slit, smirking at the glisten against the heel of his hand before lapping it clean.
"What do you want?" Tachkal leered, setting his already hardened girth against her small, wet womanhood. Dianthe glared heatedly up at him, biting her bottom lip. The Dremora gripped his shaft, rubbing the bulbous head of his cock against the length of her core, paying special attention to rub his glans against the sensitive crest of her womanhood. Dianthe moaned painfully, flushed and arching.
"Say it, tell me what you want, girl," Tachkal growled, leaning forward and bracing himself over her squirming body. Finally she gasped, her eyes glazed and dark with lust, "I want you inside me."
The Dremora snarled, digging his claws into her hips and forcing himself into her tight cunt in one hard thrust. Dianthe's eyes rolled, her hips lifting willingly into his hands as Tachkal thrust roughly into her, his hefty balls beating against her with each pump. He was merciless, dragging himself out until only the tip of his member stretched her before driving himself back in to the hilt, grinding against her pelvis as if he could somehow bury himself deeper inside.
Dianthe's body stretched around the ebon girth, fluttering tightly at each intrusion. Above her Tachkal's lips were parted, the tips of his fangs visible as he thrust. Dianthe relished the sound of his body meeting hers, the slaps sending small spasms through her as heat and pleasure began to coil in a forgotten tension in her hips. She moaned, whispering nonsense and begging for the Dremora to take her, to fill her, to do all that he wanted and brutalize her so much more. In turn Tachkal dropped to his elbows, his hips wildly meeting hers until she jerked in place. The daedra kissed her throat then bit deeply into her shoulder, tasting blood as his mistress keened and gripped his hair and horns. With one final pump he climaxed, spilling into her womb.
The Dremora's thick cum quickly filled her tight womanhood, overflowing and running onto her thighs and buttocks even as he continued to spurt into her. She shivered, clenching around him in a vice as the sensation brought her to orgasm, her blunt nails digging into his shoulders she bit against the scarred nick in the Dremora's ear. He shuddered at the spasms of her small body beneath his, reluctantly pulling out, dribbling more of the creamy liquid over her stomach as he leaned back and looked over his mistress.
She was covered in him, shining in the candlelight even as her breathing hitched from the aftershocks of her orgasm, her body flushed and bleeding in the spots he'd marked her with. Slowly he returned to lie on her, licking the blood from her shoulder away as sleep pulled at him from his satisfaction. Dianthe sighed against his ear, nuzzling into their sticky embrace as she wrapped her arms around her Dremora.
"Satisfied?" Tachkal grinned against her throat. Dianthe smiled.
"Only if we do this again."
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/AN: My fetishes are fantastic and goddamn do I enjoy writing sex scenes./