Sassa knew he loved her as she loved him; they were best friends, they were family; they were like brother and sister. But she couldn't recall a time when he'd ever said those three words to her, and it pulled on her heart strings. She felt tears welling up and her throat tighten, but she breathed deeply until the feeling went away. She pulled back from him and buried her face in her mug of ale, draining it. "I think I need another one of those." She joked, gesturing to Saadia for another.

As the night wore on, the crowd began to thicken. Eventually, the inn was so full of people that it was hard to move without accidentally bumping someone, and of course, Bero, with his broad shoulders, bumped into the wrong person.

"Watch where ya fuckin' goin', ya piece of shit elf!" Slurred the drunken Nord.

"Piece of shit elf, is it? And who is the one carrying a Daedric Greatsword? Who is the one dressed in expensive ebony armour? And tell me, s'wit, who is the one wearing tacky fucking hide armour and smells like mammoth shit?" Bero growled.

"I bet you sucked a lot of cock to get that gear. An elf couldn't ever hope to be successful - " Smack! Bero's fist dislocated the drunkard's jaw with one well-aimed punch, the clacking sound causing most of the patrons inside to grimace.

"I am the Dragonborn, you dim-wit! Without this 'piece of shit elf', your pretty Skyrim would fall to ashes!" Thump! Bero landed a blow in the man's stomach, causing him to double over.

Some funny bugger behind the man decided to stick his two cents worth in, and pushed the drunk forward with his boot. The man landed in a heap on the floor, and didn't get back up.

And while all this was happening, Sassa looked on with a mixture of curiosity and awe; he looked so fearsome with his red-streaked black hair, the red eyes under the classic Dunmer brow, and his ebony armour. She'd always acknowledged that he would seem pretty badass to others, and with a sharp thrill she realised first-hand just how powerful he really was. Gods...he really is sexy, she thought. She watched, heat spreading through her lower abdomen, at the look of focused anger Bero wore. She bit her lip as she noticed the way his pants stretched over the bulge of his muscles, and the image of his naked thighs presented itself in her mind. No! That's so wrong, stop it! She admonished herself.

Someone hauled the drunk to his feet and guided him out the door, and the patrons went back to their conversations and drinks. Bero swaggered over to her, a smirk of arrogant triumph written on his handsome face.

Sassa couldn't help the way her heart skipped a beat.

Bero dropped down into the seat next to hers, still smirking. "So. How'd I do, eh?" he said, nudging her. He was close enough that she could feel his body heat, and she found herself trying to deny the desire rising through her body once again.

"Oh Bero, I think you know the answer to that. You just want me to feed your ego! Not gonna happen." She laughed. She leaned back so that she was able to see his facial expression.

"Mmmh…I can think of other ways to feed my ego." He said lowly, his voice a deep rumble coming from his chest. He eyes were boring right into her eyes with the most smouldering look he could muster.

Sassa couldn't help the small sound that escaped her throat; the combination of his words, his voice, the heat emanating from him as well as his eyes, oh gods, his eyes! Sassa shuddered involuntarily, and she wondered whether her dark elf friend was truly a Dremora.

"And what's that supposed to mean, hmm?" she dared, though her voice came out a little shakier and squeakier than she'd intended.

His answering smile was almost too much for Sassa – she realised with a start that she wanted him. She wanted him with a visceral intensity that frightened her. Ysmir's beard…I want him so bad! She admitted this to herself, though she told herself that she would never, ever act on it. She knew that Bero was only playing; it wasn't the first time, though never had his flirtatious behaviour had this effect on her. She watched as Bero's facial expression turned dark, hungry. And just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, he was interrupted by none other than Torvar.

"My favourite drinking buddy!" he chirped, clapping Bero on the shoulder. Sassa smirked; she could almost see Bero's very subtle eye-roll.

She took the interruption as a sign – she excused herself rather hastily, and ran home. She ran home and slammed the door shut behind her, and then she stripped off her armour. She didn't even wait until she got to her bedroom – she leaned back against the door and slid her fingers through her slippery moisture, immediately setting a furious pace over her swollen nub. Images of his sexy, strong body covered in sweat as he drove into that pretty wood elf invaded her mind, his muscles rippling and quivering in the candlelight. "Bero…" she moaned breathily as she came. When she recovered, she felt guilt and shame for thinking that way about Bero. Never again, she resolved.

She picked up her ridiculous glass armour, and placed it on the armour mannequin. Next, she donned her comfy nightgown, and headed for bed.

0o0o0o

Bero was more than a little baffled by Sassa's abrupt departure. He knew she couldn't stand Torvar, but it wouldn't normally be cause for her to flee like that. He gave it a few minutes, and then he excused himself and jogged to her house.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but something stopped him. "Bero…" he heard her moan from behind the door. Shor's Balls, it can't be! Bero shook the erotic image out of his mind, and headed home instead.

Once back home, he told himself that it wasn't his name that she called out, that he'd misheard. But the image of Sassa masturbating to thoughts of him was firmly planted in his mind, and the hard-on he had wasn't going to disappear until he sorted himself out.

He undressed and hopped into bed to begin stroking himself with that image in mind. A mix of lust, desire, shame and guilt were at war in his heart and soul, but that combination only served to make it all the more erotic. He finished quickly; he came long and hard, his hot seed shooting out over his stomach and chest.