Yo! I actually got a second chapter out of this. I wanna thank CanaanAlphardForever for beta reading dis crap for me. I hope everyone enjoys.
Gods, I was beginning to think I'd never stop vomiting. I swipe my arm across my lips and hear a low chuckle from behind me.
"You think that was funny, huh?" In an attempt to look imposing, I plant both hands firmly on my hips when I turn around to face the unusual girl. I succeed in putting an end to her laughter, but she retains that crooked grin of hers. I suppose being cocky is favorable to being angry...
Her smile isn't half bad, either...
...Wait, what?
"Must've slipped my mind that you wouldn't be very accustomed to traveling so quickly." My impressive stance falters a bit at that tone. I can feel my hands slowly curling into fists. "In all seriousness, though, we should probably get you something to eat before we try that again."
"If you think you're dragging me through another ridiculous aerial maneuver, you're gravely mistaken!"
She snorts at that. My limbs stiffen when she approaches me, but I hold my ground all the same. I glare up at her, brow furrowed so much my forehead starts to ache. Her gaze lazily cascades down my form in a searching fashion.
"You don't have any weapons, do you?"
Biting my lip, I reach down into my left sabaton to retrieve a small blade. I clutch it tight, briefly; I had forgotten all about this secondary weapon. Would it have done me any good, though? She hasn't tried to hurt me, so...
"Ya gonna stare at it all day, or ya gonna hand it over?"
"Tell me your name, and I'll give it to you." I offer sternly.
My eyes drift upward to meet with her fiery amber orbs. Something sparks behind them which results in her smile diminishing completely. She drops to one knee, and although she's still above my eye level, the proximity is that much more intimidating. Our faces are close; I can feel the unusual chill of her breath.
"Why do you feel it necessary to make demands of me?" Her voice is calm, though her eyes betray her emotions. Fire swirls within those ardent spheres in a manner that nearly takes my breath away.
Did I really just...
After silently reprimanding myself, I clear my throat and poorly articulate my answer. "I-I just wanted to know..."
"Then ask, don't fuckin' bargain."
"What is your name?"
"Ymir," she utters, and then proceeds to pry the knife from my hand.
It didn't take long at all for her to return with food, for which I am incredibly thankful. Sitting out in the open with no weapon does not impart much confidence. I wash my face in a stream near our camp while she skins the rabbits and builds a fire. I could've helped, but her attitude from earlier still irked me to some degree. We haven't even spoken since her return. Part of me wonders if the tension will cause an issue.
Part of me just doesn't care. Who was she to tell me how to behave? Especially if what she says is true about me being some sort of royalty! That nugget of information is still difficult for me to process. Perhaps not the royal blood part as much as the dragon blood, though. I look down into the gentle current to inspect my reflection. To my dismay, my appearance does not bear any daunting properties. Perhaps that's why Ymir called me out for acting foolish...
But was it really being foolish? I certainly don't think it's wrong of me to want to command some respect, but... It isn't like me to do that. Was she able to see that so easily? I need to be more careful around her; she's clearly more than she seems.
I am startled to see another reflection form next to my own, but Ymir's strong features quickly inspire other emotions upon a closer review. I hadn't noticed the freckles that dusted her tan cheeks. I had also neglected to note the natural upward curve of those thin lips. There is surprisingly little menace lurking in her expression on its own, and that small detail puts a smile on my face.
"Do I get to know your name, as well?" She asks softly, eyes distant and hesitant.
"Everyone called me Krista," I answer honestly, dipping my chin down. A lock of golden hair falls over my face, but I do not move to fix it. Instead I seek her gaze. She doesn't speak, but I know what she thinks of my response. In fact, I can hear her reply in my head: "That's not what I asked."
I take a moment to enjoy the silence and plan my next move. There's no need to hide it anymore. No one here is going to care.
"But, my given name," I inwardly scold myself for this stupid pause. What am I afraid of, exactly? It's just a name, but... "My mother named me Historia."
Suddenly her eyes trap themselves within my own, above water. A new emotion she tries to conceal unveils itself, but as to exactly what it is, I am not entirely certain. A ghost of a smile curves her lips.
"Still hungry?"
I quickly avert my gaze, a quiet laugh that I fail to stifle slipping through my lips. We return to the clearing where Ymir had set up a fire to find a pair of nicely browned rabbit flanks. I stop when I can just barely feel the heat of the flame. I lift a gloved hand to my field of vision and frown.
"I never was very good at taking all this off myself," I confess, voice sounding more distraught than intended. This appears to pique her interest, because she stops prying the cooked meat from their sticks and gives me her undivided attention. I suddenly feel a tad light-headed. It's gotta be this damn armor; shit weighs a ton and it doesn't exactly breathe.
"If I help you out of it," I cannot help but bite my lip when her voice sounds so positively sultry. She rises to her full height and approaches me. Her steps are more cautious this time around. "Promise not to punch me again?"
I find myself at a loss for words. Tell me this isn't happening. Ymir towers over me—not in any way threatening, but gods, she's so close that I can breathe her scent. Who knew a dragon could smell so good?
Oh, shit, I'm staring, aren't I?
"U-Um," I say with perfect fucking articulation. She cocks her head and I take a deep breath, accidentally drawing in more of her musk. "Just, y'know, don't do anything you'll regret later."
She circles around to my back and I feel her hands on me. I know she's looking for the harnesses, but wow is she taking her time with it. I'd probably slap her, but I can't deny that part of me enjoys it. I am no stranger to this desire, but I've never actually engaged in any sensual behavior myself. I'd be lying if I said I've never thought about it. I have only known Ymir for a few hours, and while she is rather handsome, I am not usually so easily flustered.
My pauldrons are loosed and slide harmlessly down my sides until they hit the dirt with a soft clank. There is a tightening in my chest as she unfastens my breastplate with deft hands, fingers working casually around to my front to pry the armor gently from my body. I lean my head back to rest against the fabric of her tunic as she continues to free me of my heavy constraints, but it doesn't take long for my arms and torso to be relieved. I swallow hard as her body slides down behind me. I don't need to turn around to know that her head is level with my ass while she works diligently to remove my tasset. Anxiously, I clasp my hands atop my stomach and suppress many a shudder. The way she goes about this process with such purpose is what leads to my undoing.
"Do you get this excited when others help you out of your armor?" I can hear the smirk in her tone, and my cheeks burn with frustration. I want to step away, and although she does not hold me in place, something keeps me rooted to her touch. My silence persists; I hear her snort. "I'll take that as a 'No'. I'm flattered, by the way."
Okay, that's it.
I free myself from her enticing grip and spin around to face her. Still on her knees, she casts me a perplexed look. My mind races, and my heart rate spikes. I should be furious. She has no right to make such blunt advances, whether I be royalty or not.
Why am I not angry? My thumbs rub across my palms, smearing the sweat around in nervous little oblong patterns. Our eyes are locked in a heated gaze. I hate being so easily disarmed. I wanted to maintain a distance with this monster, but at the same time, I've never wanted to be closer to someone.
Using my better judgment, I break our gaze and finish what she started. The fastens had been largely removed, so little work remained on my part. I settle in next to the fire once I was rid of the protective plating. It was nice to be able to move again—though, I admit, I'd prefer to wear something a bit more comfortable than a tunic and slacks that are obviously too big for me. Taking one of the sticks, I tear into the rabbit flank without restraint. Gods, am I hungry.
Ymir stealthily takes her place on the opposite side of the fire. I feel her eyes on me, but I don't care. Having made quick work of the rabbit, I set the stick aside and wipe my lips down the length of my arm. Ymir clears her throat in a manner less confident than I expected.
"I give you props for your charm, Ymir." I catch her gaze and effectively pin her with my eyes. "But if what you say is true, I can't just fuck whoever I want."
That makes her grin rather sheepishly.
"Can't you?" She challenges, looping her arms around her bent knee as she leans closer to the fire. The light of the fire illuminates her face so wonderfully. She has such an incredible jaw—it's so prominent, strong... Something I can grip while our lips are waging a passionate war, or a struggle for dominance—
Historia, seriously, what the fuck.
Why did this damn girl have to be so attractive? I unleash an exaggerated pout and slouch forward.
"Forget I even said anything. I'm beginning to think that just being around another dragon is making my hormones go crazy."
"Oh, ouch," she snickers. "Then, at least take care of it yourself, yeah? I don't wanna smell it for any longer than I have to." With that, she rises to her feet, stretches, and makes to wander off. I dig my toes in the dirt, annoyed with how she is so casual with regards to my sexual torment.
"Is it that bad?" I wonder aloud, under my breath. Of course she hears it.
"Far from it," she softly responds. She stops just to my left, one hand digging through her messy hair. "It's a little overwhelming, to be honest."
There's an ounce of frustration in her voice that I can easily understand.
She's sexually frustrated. I turned her on!
With... My scent.
Dragons are fucking weird.
Before she can take another two steps, I stop her by hopping up to my own feet. "Where are you going?"
She sends me a telling look. "Where do you think?"
Blush creeps onto my cheeks, and we hit the most awkward impasse when our eyes meet once again. I bite my lip and fold my hands against my lap, idly fidgeting as I plan out my next words carefully.
"It would be easier if we just—"
"No way."
"I-I thought you wanted to!" The redness of my cheeks must have intensified because my face is positively burning. I clench tightly to the fabric of my trousers. Why am I making a fool of myself? And why is she smiling at me?!
"If I'm gonna bed a queen, it's gonna be in a fucking bed." She folds her arms across her chest, staring me down. "You don't seriously want your first time to be in the woods, do you?"
I admit, I admire her honesty. My eyes travel down and I catch a glimpse of something peculiar. Ymir's pants... I swallow a dry lump in my throat.
"I am not some innocent little flower that requires protection from nasty things or delicate handling." I dip my thumbs down the lip of my slacks and take a deep breath before I slide them down around my ankles. I step forward, abandoning the discarded clothing, my face hardening with determination. "I am your queen, and you will do as I command." I sway my hips with the next forward step I take, and the next, and the next, until I stand just inches away from the powerful dragon. Although I feel like a woman possessed, I have never felt so empowered in all my life. I brush my hands up her chest and feel her shudder before I lean in to whisper directly into her ear, "fuck me."
Our lips meet in a delicious kiss. There is much passion behind each of her movements, and I expected no less from the obviously feisty dragon. A moan escapes my lips when her rough hands travel down my back to grip my ass. I buck against her and feel something poke my belly. In response, I bite down hard against her lower lip. My action earns me a lustful growl from deep within Ymir's chest and she tears my shirt to shreds before trailing her lips down my neck with undeniable fervor.
Her tongue laps at my throbbing artery. I quiver against her touch, but I need her to move faster. My fingers curl themselves in her wild mane before I push her further downward. I feel her smirk against my stomach. I catch her gaze just before she takes my panties between her teeth and tugs them down.
Gods, the chill of her breath against my bare sex excites me in ways I never knew possible. Her lips hover briefly before she drags her tongue along my inner thigh and curves it up to lie flat against my dripping womanhood.
"Please," I gasp, clutching onto the back of her head for dear life. When she doesn't instantly proceed, I press her face against my entrance and am granted with immediate results. Before her tongue slithers inside, she swivels her shoulder so that my right leg curves over it to improve her accessibility. She trails her fingertips down my thigh while she devours me, fire dancing in their wake as they travel downward in a luxuriously slow caress.
My hips drive forward, unrestrained, and I can feel my walls clamping down in a vain attempt to hold Ymir in place. I tighten my hold on her poor head when stars invade my vision. This must be the peak of my pleasure. I cannot contain the whimpers spilling from my open lips, and I don't want to. I want the whole bloody forest to hear my cries of ecstasy. I grind against my dragon's mouth until release finally comes. Not a single drop hits the leafy ground; my dragon is incredibly indulgent.
I nearly lose my balance as I work to catch my breath, but her arms secure themselves around my waist before I so much as topple. Our faces are brought together, yet our lips maintain a painful distance that she refuses to close. I watch in a mixed state of bliss and confusion as her face fights against the pained expression that threatens to consume her. Her brows are knit, lips pressed tightly together... I am almost too delirious to notice that anything is wrong at all, but let the record show that Historia Reiss is not oblivious.
And then, just like that, she pulls away from me. Her withdrawal is gentle, but if I didn't know any better, I'd say her expression reflects her regret.
"Ymir," I murmur, reaching out to her when she turns her back on me and begins to abandon me.
"Put your clothes back on. I wanna head out when I get back."
I let her go with the assurance that I'll understand later. I only hope that I haven't done anything wrong...