by Sarah Hawke
“I’ve never…” she whispered when she finally pulled her lips away.
Cassel shook his head. “What?”
Her cheeks flushed ever so slightly. It wasn’t like Serrane Starwind to stumble on her words, and it definitely wasn’t like her to be so sheepish.
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before,” she said. “When I’m with you, it’s like I’m a completely different person.”
Cassel grinned up at her again. “Well, you’re the most amaz—”
Serrane abruptly placed her fingers over his lips. He frowned, confused, until she leaned down close enough for her mouth to kiss his ear.
“I want you to fuck me,” she breathed. “All night, over and over and over. I want you to use me. I want you to hurt me. I want you to treat me like your personal elf cunt.” She slowly leaned back up until her blue eyes were an inch from his. “Can you do that for me?”
“Well, I am a knight,” Cassel said, gently sliding his fingers through her hair. “We’re supposed to give fair damsels whatever they need.”
Serrane smiled coquettishly. “Who said chivalry is dead?”
She leaned down to kiss him again, but her lips never reached their target. Without warning, Cassel grabbed her by the waist and flung her off of him and onto her back. She yelped in surprise, but before she should regain her balance he dove on top of her, braced his arms underneath her legs, and hoisted them all the way up and back until her knees were almost touching her ears. Serrane moaned when his tip of his cock returned to her sodden slit, then again when he plunged into her. But she outright squealed in surprise came when he abruptly grabbed her throat with both hands.
She was completely at his mercy and she knew it. With her feet sticking straight up in the air and her body folded in half, she couldn’t have escaped even if she had wanted to…which was precisely why she shuddered in delight when he began choking her in earnest. He quickly settled into a rhythm: every three thrusts he would relax his grip enough for her to suck down a single gulp of air, but the instant she inhaled he would clutch her throat again and force her to hold her breath. She would eventually lose the battle, of course, but that was part of the game. While her hands scratched and pounded against his back as if she wanted shake him off, her body told a different tale: the more violently he thrust, the more violently she trembled in delight. She was so desperate for him to claim her, to conquer her, to use her…
And he did. Cassel slammed into her over and over again, marveling as always at how her elven quim could be this slick and this tight all at once. Every time he looked down at her perfect body folded beneath him—her bouncing tits, her lustrous hair, her ageless face and sparkling blue eyes—he desperately wanted to pull out and bathe her in his seed. The mere thought of her looking up at him through splattered, fluttering eyelids almost pushed him over the top—
But Cassel wasn’t done with her just yet. A split second before he exploded, he released her throat and pulled out. Serrane’s eyes widened in confusion even as she gasped for breath, but he gave his cock a five second reprieve before he grabbed her arm and flipped her all the way over onto her chest. Her long, wild hair spilled everywhere, but he quickly gathered up a thick clump of blonde locks in his left hand. Leaning his head down on top of hers, he softly bit the pointed tip of her ear.
“You’re mine, bitch,” he snarled. “Squeal for me!”
He jerked back on her hair and plunged into her cunt in a single smooth motion. She squealed just like he had known she would, half in surprise and half in delight, and he slapped her pale ass with his free hand hard enough to leave a red streak. Once again, she was totally at his mercy. Her fingers feebly clawed at the sheets as if groping for something, anything, to brace upon, but Cassel pounded her so hard she could barely breathe even without his hands at her throat.
There was something so animalistic, so primal, so masculine about fucking a woman from behind that he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long. Her body was so perfect and pristine that he was once again tempted to pull out and despoil her beauty, but after their last conversation he knew that wasn’t what she truly wanted…
“Beg for it,” he whispered into her ear. “Beg for my seed!”
“Please,” Serrane gasped. “Please, give it to me!”
“Where?”
“Inside! Deep inside!”
“Then take it,” he growled. “Take it all!”
Pushing her face completely into the bed, Cassel slammed into her one last time before he exploded. He cried out in a triumph like an orc warlord despoiling his prey, and he didn’t release his grip and allow her to breathe until he had pumped every last drop deep inside her.
“Ju’katta…” Serrane rasped, still delirious. When he finally allowed her to roll over, she wearily stared down at tiny beads of sweat on her skin and the viscous trails of seed trickling down her slender legs. “That better not be all you’ve got...”
Cassel snorted. “Even the most chivalrous knight has his limits, m’lady.”
“Maybe,” she said, nibbling at his chin and stroking his flaccid stem, “but I know for a fact we haven’t reached yours just yet…”
***
Morning arrived far earlier than it had any right to, and Serrane scowled at the first rays of sunlight in the hopes she could scare them back into the heavens for a little while longer. But reality refused to budge to her demands, and she eventually sighed and cupped Julian’s face in her hands to wake him up.
“Come on,” she prompted. “You should have been packed and on the road an hour ago.”
“You’re always saying that,” he groaned.
“I’m always right. Sometimes I don’t think you’d ever get out of bed without me.”
“What if I don’t want to get out of bed because of you?” he countered, sliding his arm around her waist.
Serrane rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. “Flattery won’t get you any more sleep.”
“It’s not flattery—it’s the truth.” Julian smiled as he dragged the fingers of his free hand through the long blonde locks spilling over him. “My parents always told me not to take anything for granted. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
He pulled her in close enough that he could kiss her lips again. She had never been a glutton for compliments like so other women, and in many cases praise actually made her uncomfortable. But hearing Julian speak those words—and knowing he meant every one—made her toes curl and her heart flutter.
“All right,” he breathed as their lips finally parted. “I suppose we should go.”
“Not yet,” Serrane said, pushing him back down when he tried to lean up. “Now you have to fuck me first.”
Julian blinked. “But you said—”
“The Silver Tower can wait,” she said, swinging her leg over his lap and smiling. “I can’t.”
His cock took exactly three seconds to swell to its full length, and Serrane eagerly guided it back inside her. For once she took full control, churning her hips against him and snickering every time he moaned in delight. When his strong hands crawled their way up her thighs, across her stomach, and up to her breasts, she leaned down far enough that he could lick and suckle at her nipples. A spark of delight shivered through her from her toes to her tits, and she clamped down on her lip as yet another orgasm shuddered through her.
The moment her mind finally returned to her body, Julian rolled her over onto her back and reclaimed control. His thrusts were simultaneously hard and gentle, deep and shallow, and he leaned down to kiss her in the same instant he burst. Serrane could feel his cock pumping deep inside her, filling her with yet another gushing torrent of his seed, and she locked her arms and legs around him as if she never wanted to let him go.
“Gods…” he breathed when he finally finished, his forehead pressed tightly against hers. “I don’t think I have enough energy left to trudge through the forest. I guess I’ll have to stay a few more days.”
S
errane snickered. “I always knew that paladins were secretly the laziest people in Highwind.”
“It’s not really a secret,” Julian said. “It’s part of our charm.”
She grunted and kissed him again. She would have gladly stayed in bed with him forever given the choice, but duty eventually compelled her to physically drag him out of the sheets so he could actually get dressed and ready to go. Ten minutes and an astonishing number of tickles and tackles later, they were finally back in the suite’s main room. Tahira was there waiting for them with a plate of fresh fruit and bread.
“I feared I had overslept,” the girl said.
“That’s never a problem when he is around, don’t worry,” Serrane said. She could practically feel the aura of awkward embarrassment radiating off the priestess; unless she was deaf she had probably heard plenty of the festivities last night. The old Serrane would have been horrified about such things, but the new one didn’t give a damn.
They ate quickly and efficiently, and after gathering up the rest of their things they slipped outside and found a quiet, out-of-the-way alley where they could talk. Serrane then reminded Julian of everything he needed to know about the Duskwatch tunnels
“I would escort you myself, but it’s probably best if we split up just to minimize attention,” Serrane said. “My rangers will know to expect you.”
“The fewer people see us leave, the better,” Julian said. “I’d rather have Commander Crowe and Deswick stumbling around aimlessly trying to find us.”
“I doubt it will take them long to start looking. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if Crowe tries to confront me about it in the Council chambers today.”
Julian took a deep breath and nodded. “In theory, we should be long gone by then.”
“Good luck,” Serrane said, touching his cheek.
“All things considered, I think I’d rather be avoiding the Inquisitrix’s armies than dealing with politics,” Julian said, smiling. “But we’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”
“I know you will,” she whispered, and meant it. She leaned forward to kiss him one last time, and she forced herself to ignore the dark voices in her head warning her that she would never see him again. If anyone could pull this off, it was Julian. In a week or two, he would return to the city leading a newly-empowered army of paladins. The Vorsalosian army would break before them, and this war would end as quickly as it had begun. She could see it now.
The problem was that she didn’t believe it.
“Lu dartha an unmin,” Serrane whispered. “Tenna lye ento omenta.”
“Until then,” Julian said. “Escar watch over you.”
Serrane turned and strode off down the street. She forced herself not to glance back over her shoulder, partially because she didn’t want to look suspicious and partially because she didn’t want him to see the nascent tears welling in her eyes. She kept her hood drawn tightly around her head, and she had mostly regained her composure by the time she reached her house.
The guards here weren’t flustered in the slightest by the fact she hadn’t returned last night. In their minds, Highwind’s Ranger-General had spent the whole evening on patrol leaping from rooftop to rooftop in search of Vorsalosian infiltrators. Serrane had never corrected their misconceptions. After all, sometimes the illusion of power was far more important than actually possessing it.
The Council was scheduled to meet shortly, but Serrane ignored her tardiness and filled a bath anyway. She heated the water with sorcery, and she allowed herself to soak for far too long before she finally got dressed and ready. Every time she closed her eyes she could hear Crowe and Mannick arguing, and she still didn’t have any idea what she was actually going to say to them. She needed to stall, but how? This had all sounded so easy in theory, but in practice she didn’t know how she could appease the Black Mistress and—
Serrane had just buckled the last strap of her armor when her ears pricked up in warning. Her eyes narrowed, and she held her breath as she tried to listen for anything out of the ordinary. The wind buffeting her house made it difficult to pick out individual sounds, but she was almost certain she heard footsteps in the adjacent room. Since her guards weren’t stupid enough to try and march in here without announcing their presence, the only logical conclusion was that she had an intruder.
Gritting her teeth, Serrane silently drew her twin swords and crept over to the wall next to the door. The wind picked up again for a moment, and the intruder was clever enough to mask his movements with the noise. If nothing else, it proved that she wasn’t dealing with a rank amateur here. Perhaps the Inquisitrix had finally dispatched a Senosi assassin to finish the job Lasille had started.
Serrane mentally counted to ten as she felt more than heard her assailant approach, and every muscle in her body coiled as she prepared to strike. Three, two, one…
She whirled around the corner, one sword held defensively in front of her while the other slashed in a wide arc, but somehow the intruder was prepared for the attack. The clash of steel rang throughout the house as a pair of wickedly-sharp tiger claws parried her blade, and a black blur slipped beneath her defenses and tackled her to the floor. Serrane reflexively kicked out with her knee and tried to roll away—
“Valuri?” the ranger stammered when she belatedly recognized the green eyes and hooded face looking down at her. “How…?”
“You should really be more careful with these things, General,” the former Senosi Huntress said as she retracted her claws. “You could chop off someone’s head…or damage one of your pretty paintings.”
Serrane shook her head in bewilderment at the woman straddling her. The mere sight of Valuri’s claws and black leather armor triggered an avalanche of memories of Hastien’s Fall. Lasille had also defeated Serrane with without breaking a sweat, and the elf felt a sudden rush of terror in her chest…
“Hey, it’s all right,” Valuri said, raising her hands defensively. “Sorry for sneaking up on you like this. I, uh…I just didn’t think it was a good idea for someone like me to use the front door.”
The ranger forced herself to swallow and take a deep breath. “Faarea,” she breathed. “How in the bloody hell did you get in here?”
“I’m a professional,” Valuri replied mildly. “Also, your guard on the rooftop was half-asleep. He’s going to have a horrible headache when he wakes up.”
Serrane’s mouth hung open in shock so long it was genuinely embarrassing. This all seemed like it must have been some kind of trick or illusion…
“I’m real, don’t worry,” the Huntress said with a wry smile. “I realize this probably seems crazy to you right now, but I come bearing important news from a mutual acquaintance.”
Serrane swallowed and pursed her lips. She had never expected to see the mercenaries from Icewatch again, and she definitely hadn’t expected one of them to crash through her door. The fact that Valuri was a Huntress was even more awkward. She obviously wasn’t Lasille—aside from the black leather and similar weapons they didn’t look much of anything alike—but her presence was still a reminder of something Serrane was desperately trying to forget. The helplessness, the pain…
The unbelievable arousal.
“What acquaintance?” Serrane asked, clearing her throat and struggling to regain her poise.
“Well, the short version is that we just got back in town, and my friends are still with the Black Mistress down in Darkwind.”
The name snapped Serrane’s mind fully back into the present. “You were with the Black Mistress?” she asked. “Just now?”
“We used her secret tunnels to slip past the Vorsalosian army,” Valuri explained. “It’s a long story, but you’re one of the first people we wanted to talk to. The word on the street is that you’re doing everything you can to hold Highwind together…and for some insane reason my friends and I want to help.”
Serrane shook her head, still bewildered. Illusion or not, she felt like she had just smoked some particularly
powerful rathelas…
“You can get off of me any time,” she said.
Valuri glanced down in surprise as if she had forgotten she was still straddling the other woman. “Oh, shit,” she blurted out, standing. “Sorry, General.”
She reached out a hand and helped pull Serrane up. Valuri’s grip was surprisingly firm, and it was yet another reminder of her vampire-like Senosi strength. Serrane was several inches taller than the Huntress, though it was hard to tell thanks to the insane heels on Valuri’s boots.
“Anyway, I’m sure this all seems crazy to you, and you’re not wrong,” Valuri said. “But you’re the only person in Highwind we feel like we can trust, so here I am.”
Serrane grunted softly. Apparently nothing was ever going to unfold like she expected again. Chaos had become the only constant in her life…
“I would be highly skeptical of any information the Black Mistress may have given you,” the ranger said, taking in another deep breath. “I’m not sure if you’re aware of the political situation here, but she’s—”
“Whatever you’re going to say, I promise we trust her even less than you do,” Valuri interrupted. “So don’t worry, I’m not here as an envoy, and we’re definitely not her goons.”
Serrane nodded slowly. “Well, that’s something, I suppose.”
“We saw her army down in Darkwind, and we know she’s trying to use it as leverage to snag a spot on the Council,” Valuri explained. “We also know she has dirt on half the important people in this damn city. Without you and a few others, she probably would have declared herself the ‘Black Queen of Highwind’ or something equally stupid sounding by now.”
“I wouldn’t put it past her to do that regardless,” Serrane murmured. “But if you don’t trust her, why are you here?”
“Because like I said, we trust you,” Valuri said. “And not just because Jorem couldn’t stop leering at you back at the fortress. I apologize for that, by the way—he’s kind of an idiot, and I’m pretty sure he would be dead in a ditch somewhere right now if Red and I weren’t around to take care of him.”
