Author's note: There is a scene of sexuality in this chapter, but I tried to do it tastefully. It has been updated, to make it more adult, so I hope you enjoy it! A warning for some language
How could Daeghun have lied to me like that? Not telling me I had part of a broken githyanki sword inside me is kind of a big issue to hide from me.
Cari had a lot on her mind. Not only had she found out, only after she and her companions had been through the Hells and back, that her father and uncle had been lying to her since the beginning, but she really didn't like how Bishop was looking at Shandra. She feared that she had waited too long. Cari knew Shandra was older than she was, but the farmgirl was just as attractive, if not more so, and it made her seethe with jealousy.
Fine, Bishop, you want to bed the farm girl, do it! But you won't be sleeping with me.
She sighed and slipped into her nightgown, watching her reflection nervously comb its hair in the mirror, trying desperately to get her mind off of what had happened at the hideout. After a few restless strokes she set down the brush and sighed again, strapped her dagger to her thigh and sneaked out the door.
Well, at least the common room should be empty by now, she thought, maybe I can nip into the Harvest Mead Duncan has hidden for me.
Maybe he'll be there... Then I can get him before Shandra...
No. Don't think about that.
Still...
The common room was dark. Cari lit a candle, carried it to the bar, and rummaged around underneath the counter. The dim light from the candle gave her little aid. Grunting in frustration, she finally pulled out a dusty, honey-colored bottle and tugged the cork out with her teeth.
Thank Cyric for Duncan, she thought to herself as she took a long draught, draining nearly half of the mead from the bottle.
"You know," a voice drawled from the shadows, "You shouldn't drink alone. It speaks of problems."
Oh, Gods, I knew it...
"My only problem, Bishop, is you," Cari spat, slamming the bottle down on the bar and crossing her arms over her chest, "You and the farmgirl."
"You shouldn't do that, fair leader," he chided, stepping out into the light, "It might break the bottle."
Cari eyed him closely, drinking in his tall, muscular build, the way the thin tunic he wore stretched slightly over his broad shoulders as he matched her stance.
Gods, he's handsome... and that powerful body...
I don't know how much more of this I can take...
Remember the farmgirl?
Oh, right... I don't want to be his second choice...
"What do you want, Bishop?" she said sourly, leaning back against the bar, having to tilt her head back to look into his face. The top of her head barely reached his chin.
Good, he thought, quickly scanning the room, she's alone.
I've waited too long for this...
"Just to talk," he purred, propping an elbow on the counter and giving her an appraising look, "You've been a little irritable since our return from the hideout. Why is that?" He reached out and swept her hair back, exposing the thin straps of her nightgown. Taking a step closer to her, he boldly took one strap between his fingers, waiting to see what she would do. When she didn't pull away, his fingers worked their way up her neck. "What's on that pretty little mind of yours, fair leader?"
Besides me, he thought, raking her body with his eyes, his thoughts already clouded with fantasies of what he hoped was to come, what I wouldn't do to have that nightgown on the floor right now...
"It couldn't be that I just found out I have a piece of a sword embedded in my chest now, could it?" she said sardonically, taking a sharp breath through her nose as she stepped backward, pulling her neck out of reach. "Or have I not convinced you?" She didn't want him to know how fast her heart was beating, how her skin burned where he had touched her...
How badly she wanted more...
Bishop smirked and leaned forward, bathing his face in the light from the candle. His eyes seemed to glow an unearthly yellow in the dim light. "I thought you could handle that," he murmured, stepping away from the bar, keeping his eyes fixated on hers, "I think there's something else you can't handle. Something more... personal."
"Like what?" Cari said, narrowing her eyes. She followed his movements, her body instinctively tense, more from anticipation than anything else. "Care to elaborate?"
"You can't handle the way I talked to Shandra, can you?" he breathed, padding around her in a half-circle, like a wolf cornering its prey, "Jealous, are we?"
"I've handled more than you," she scoffed, standing her ground, part of her hoping, begging for him to touch her again, "And they never mentioned farmgirls."
Bishop's hands closed around her arms, and he let out a low sigh as his fingertips savored the softness of her skin. "Then why are the sultry looks suddenly so icy?" He released one arm long enough to push her hair aside, and then he leaned in, breathing in deeply as he trailed his lips up the side of her neck. "You smell like cinnamon. It's... enticing."
Cari only just managed to stifle a throaty groan. It had been too long since a man had touched her like that, and Bishop...
Gods, he knows what he's doing... she thought, desire surging through her in a way she hadn't felt in months, Hells...
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied quietly, her voice a little breathless as his hips were suddenly against hers, "I assure you."
He leaned in closer, his lips just behind her ear. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he breathed, slowly sliding his hands down her arms, "You know about the looks we gave each other. You know about the way we 'accidentally' touch each other. You know how it feels to have your body, your skin against mine." He paused, gently weaving his fingers with hers. "You even know how I propositioned Shandra…"
Wha-?
What?
Her mind cleared suddenly with an unpleasant jolt.
How-how dare he mention her?
That bastard!
"I know you're a pig!" she snarled, pulling away, furious and jealous of his mention of Shandra, the kindled flame blazing inside her suddenly doused, "If you want to talk about her, you can leave!"
Startled, Bishop threw his hands in the air. This was not how he had intended things to go. Not tonight.
"And you're an ice queen!" he sneered, taken aback and frustrated by her outburst, "How hard did Martin have to chip at you to get between those beautiful legs of yours?"
"Martin is none of your business, Bishop," Cari spat, her eyes blazing, wondering how he even knew about the cleric, "Nor is what he and I did in bed. Drop it."
"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" he said sarcastically, a slight jealousy flaring inside him at the mention of Cari bedding Martin, "Maybe you should work on that. I'm sure your problems tend to make you useless in battle."
Cari smiled cruelly. "Speaking of problems…" she said smoothly, breathing hard, her blood up, "What's the problem you have with my uncle, exactly?"
"Any problems I have with your dear uncle Duncan are my business and my business alone," he snarled, his amber eyes watching her closely, "So, like you said, drop it."
"Ah, exactly. He is my uncle, you see, and any problems you have with him… well…" she shrugged, knowing she was pushing him, "And then there's Luskan…"
"Shut up," he muttered, eyes alight with anger, furious that she was getting under his skin, "Shut it."
"Oh, did I touch a nerve?" she mocked, turning his own words back on him, "Maybe you should work on that. Your problems do tend to make you useless in battle too."
"You little bitch," he growled, lunging for her. She easily sidestepped him, causing him to crash into the bar. "Now, now, Bishop," she taunted, laughing softly as she drew her dagger from its sheath, "I think you can do better than that."
"Pulling weapons are we?" he hissed, smirking, part of him intrigued by their little game, "So be it."
Bishop dived for her again, but she was too fast for him; she slashed at him and caught his cheek as he straightened up. He touched his face, shocked at the blood shining black on his fingers.
I think we're done with this, he thought, his cheek stinging slightly, she's had her fun, now it's time for mine...
"All right, no more," he snarled, charging her once again. Like earlier, she dodged him, but this time he was ready for it, and he moved with her, using his long arms to grab her around the waist. Cari gasped as she was suddenly lifted from the floor and slammed onto the table behind her. Bishop straddled her, grabbed her wrists and yanked them over her head. The dagger clattered as it fell uselessly to the floor.
"And what, exactly, were you hoping to accomplish? You thought you could overpower me?" he asked softly, smiling triumphantly as he looked down at her, her body wriggling beneath his, the sensation making him shiver, "I knew you'd try, of course, but I didn't think it would be quite this easy to pin you." He leaned in, his eyes narrowed, the earlier irritation having quickly ebbed away, replaced by a hunger that stirred within him at the sight of her stretched out helpless beneath him, her long hair falling freely about her face, making her look wild, fierce, and untamed.
Hells, her body's warm, he thought, his mind slightly hazy, trying and failing to get his body under control as he felt his manhood swell and push against his trews, Gods, I want to touch her... feel her... taste her...
"I-I…" she stammered, her throat suddenly dry as her eyes fell below his belt, to where his growing hardness strained against his trousers. She was having trouble thinking clearly, her desires suddenly threatening to overwhelm her, any earlier animosity quickly forgotten. Looking at him now, she could tell that he lusted for her, not Shandra.
Oh gods, she thought frantically, what do I do?
Kiss… him… Cari… you damned fool! This is your chance! It's either you, or the farmgirl!
Do it!
"I-" she began again, her eyes drifting down the line of his powerful body as his gaze followed the gentle rise and fall of her breasts beneath her nightgown, "Umm..." She looked up at him, her resistance battling against her desires. Her desires won.
Oh... Oh, Gods, enough. Enough of this.
I want him.
Now.
She reached up and nipped gently at his lower lip. "That," she managed, flicking his upper lip with her tongue. She pulled away, gazing up at him through half-lidded eyes, her breaths already shallow and sharp as she waited for him, her skin flushed with excitement, her body nearly screaming for him.
His lips trembling slightly from sheer desire, he leaned in and grazed them over hers, and then lightly trailed the tip of his tongue over the path his kiss had just blazed. "Oh, that…" he whispered, barely suppressing a moan as the bulge in his pants pressed against her hip, "Is that all?"
"Yes, that," she breathed, sliding her legs around him and hooking her ankles together behind his back. She pressed a burning cheek against his, whimpering softly at the feel of his week-old stubble tickling her skin. "And more..."
"Well, then," he groaned, releasing her wrists so he could run his hands down her soft arms, his breath coming in deep gasps, "You want more?" he challenged, again taking the straps of her nightgown between his fingers. She nodded slowly, sighing softly as he eased the thin cloth off her shoulders and down her arms, baring the soft, pale flesh of her breasts. Her breaths suddenly quickened as he cupped the heavy mounds, and she gasped as he lightly rubbed her nipples with his thumbs, teasing them into hard, rosy peaks. "You like that?" he breathed, his voice unusually hoarse as he circled her nipples with his forefingers, "Say it."
Say it, Cari, he murmured to himself, his arousal now painfully hard, Say that you want me. Say it, and I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before.
Just say it...
She squirmed beneath him, the pleasant heat inside her building with every stroke of his fingertips. "Yes," she sighed, arching her back to brush her sensitive nipples against his fingers, instinctively grinding her hips against him. Her fingers fumbled along his stomach for a moment, until she found the waistband of his trousers. "Take me," she whispered huskily, pulling on his belt, gently caressing his aroused flesh through his pants, "Make me scream."
Good... he thought, shuddering at the pleasurable sensation of her fingers stroking his manhood, no more of this...
She's mine...
With a low groan, he wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hand cupping the back of her neck as he claimed her lips, his heart racing as he felt her fingers scratching at his back, tugging on his shirt, as though desperate to feel his skin. It was as if a dam burst between them: all the building frustration and tension between them shattered as he delved into her mouth, his kisses savage and hungry, hers intense and intoxicating. She tightened her legs around his waist as his hands slid up under the thin silk of her nightgown. He paused as she shifted her hips up, and she gave him a devious smile as his exploring fingers found nothing but bare skin. "You're not wearing smallclothes," he growled, moaning softly at the feel of her moist warmth pressing against him. He suddenly felt as though the fabric separating them was miles too wide. "You knew."
"I hoped," she whispered in reply, her breaths short and broken as she pressed her knees urgently against his sides, "But enough talk. My room."
"Anything for my fair leader," Bishop said, his biting sarcasm returning, if only for a brief moment. Gripping her tightly, he stood up, Cari's small frame effortlessly supported by his powerful arms, their lips still fused together, their tongues dancing with each other as they made their way to her room, hands and lips working all over the other's body. He kicked the door open, strode over and half-set, half-dropped her onto her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows, her eyebrows raised in interest as he stalked over and quickly locked the door.
"What's that for?" she inquired, smiling darkly, yet eagerly as he yanked his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular planes of his chest and stomach, the soft, dark, curly hair a sharp contrast to the smooth scars adorning his skin. She gasped as he dropped onto the bed beside her and wrapped his arms around her, forcing her body against his.
Smirking, he tangled his fingers in her long hair and drew her into another passionate, devastating kiss. "No gnomish interruptions this time."
--
Some time later in the evening, Cari closed her eyes and sighed, content and sated, gently running her fingernails up Bishop's sweat-soaked back as he collapsed on top of her and buried his face in her neck, gasping for breath.
"So," she said playfully, gently nibbling and suckling on his earlobe, "I take it you enjoyed it?" He let out a long, shuddering moan, and she giggled, still giddy and slightly delirious from her own pleasure. "I'll take that as a yes, then."
Bishop struggled up onto his forearms, his manhood still buried deep inside her. "Yes," he whispered, his breathing still labored, "Gods, woman, you are insatiable."
Smiling slightly, she reached up and gently ran her fingers through his sweaty fringe. "Only if it's good," she said slyly, tilting her chin up to kiss him softly.
He arched an eyebrow at her and chuckled, his mind finally clearing, silently savoring both the stroke to his ego and the deep satisfaction washing over him. "So," he groaned, at last pulling himself out of her and rolling over on his back, sweat glistening on his chest, "I should take it as a compliment, then?"
Cari rolled over on her side to face him. She didn't move closer, unsure of whether he would want her to hold him afterwards. "You should," she said quietly, hesitantly reaching out to touch him, "But it's up to you." She gazed at him, chewing her tongue, watching his lips as his breathing slowly evened out.
Oh, Hells, she thought, unsure of what to do next, I... what do I do? I hadn't thought this part through!
Is he going to leave now?
Gods, please, I hope not, I... I...
I want him here...
Then say something! Don't just lie there, say something!
Her hand shook slightly as she gently laid it on his stomach. His eyes suddenly opened, and he turned to look at her, an eyebrow raised in question. "What are you doing?" he asked, frowning slightly as he noticed the earlier confidence in her eyes had vanished, replaced by an unusual vulnerability and uncertainty, "Are you all right?"
Cari swallowed, suddenly more nervous than she had been earlier. The sex, she was good with, but this... this was different. "I-yes," she said softly, inching closer to him, "I-just-what happens now?" she asked quickly, eyeing him apprehensively, "Are you going to... go?"
Bishop almost didn't hear her last word, so quiet was her voice.
Did-did she...?
What?
He stared at her for a long moment. He couldn't remember the last time he actually spent the night with a woman; he usually just left after paying them. His first instinct was to leave her, he'd gotten what he wanted, but a small part of him actually... wanted to stay. There was something strangely soothing about sleeping beside a woman, something he hadn't done in what felt like ages...
And I am damn curious as to what else she can do...
Not to mention she looks like she... she wants me to...
Cari waited for his response, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her ears, and she breathed a silent sigh of relief as he reached out, wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her against him, easing the blankets up over them with his other hand. "You're staying," she whispered, gently resting her head on the corded muscle of his shoulder, "I have to say I'm surprised."
Oh, Cyric, thank you... thank you, thank you, thank you...
He chuckled and yawned softly, exhaustion finally settling over him. "Well, it is an awfully long walk back to my room," he drawled, blowing out the candle on the table next to him, "And I am rather tired. And who knows, perhaps my dear black rose will need me again in the middle of the night."
Cari giggled again and buried her face in his chest, breathing in the subtle scent of smoke and pine that lingered on his skin. "Does that mean we get to do this regularly?" she whispered teasingly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of his neck, "And what, exactly, did you just call me?"
"Perhaps," he teased in return, closing his eyes, the soft warmth of her body beside his a strange, yet welcome comfort, "If you make it worth my while, of course." He laughed at her derisive snort, and then tipped her head back to capture her lips in a passionate, hungry kiss, the hand against her back slowly working its way down her backside and then back up, to where the tattoo of a black rose lay emblazoned on her hip.
"Rose..."