the side of his face. He repeated the action for her.
“I’m sorry, milady,” he shook his head, “but honor demands I remain chaste while on a mission. My duty is to the church first and I cannot waiver.”
Crys enjoyed several boring minutes of staring at the night sky while Peter fell asleep next to her. She followed Icy’s example and escaped shortly after the snoring began. Her sisters waited for her at the edge of the lake, smiling smugly at her failure in the waters.
“So, how did it go?” Sylvia asked.
“He’s too boring,” Crys huffed.
“You were probably waterlogged!” Sylvia joked.
The trio of sisters cackled with triumph. Crys’ failure meant Sylvia went next, and everyone knew that she was best at seducing mortals. The water nymph boiled with embarrassment despite her usual resolve.
Peter knew he needed sleep but he had to eat. His tired movements barely qualified as hunting. Something in this place made an awful lot of racket at night. The paladin suspected an evil witch cursed the land to sap his strength. He shook his head to clear the cobwebs. Images of exotic women trying to seduce him felt like nightmares come to life. His meal that night consisted of a measly mouse as his uncoordinated body could capture nothing more agile.
Sylvia found him curled up like a pathetic child. Halfway asleep and defenseless, Peter never saw her coming. She noticed his meager supper and concocted her strategy. A dozen woodland creatures brought berries by the handful to the wood nymph. She collected them in a small bowl fashioned from bark and roused the sleeping paladin.
“You look famished, great paladin,” she said. “Allow me to present this gift.”
“I confess seductress, that I am famished,” he stated.
Sylvia stirred at realizing the paladin was on to her game. How could he not be after her two sisters’ failure? Neither of them had her advantages though. Her beauty, the spring of life, and her heightened powers meant success for her where the others failed. Plus the berries she gave him contained powerful aphrodisiacs.
“Do you find me attractive?” She asked whimsically.
“Oh yes, very.” The paladin loosened his stoicism under the berries’ influence. “I have been tempted by visions of loveliness of late. You are but the third in as many nights to try and pull me away from my duty.”
“The others know nothing of duty,” she improvised. “They are only concerned with tricking you. I make my intentions well known. Honesty is a virtue is it not?”
“Aye, and a good one it is,” Peter nodded, finishing off the last berry. “The church teaches that one must be honest above all else.”
“And one must always be honest to one’s self, yes?” She pressed very close to him.
He noticed then that the beautiful woman wore very little clothing.
“Milady, are you not cold in such attire?” He asked.
“A little,” she answered. “But if it gets your blood moving, it is worth the discomfort.”
Peter stammered to reply but nothing coherent came from his lips.
“Such a tragedy to keep you cloistered away from women,” Sylvia practically laid on top of him. “They don’t realize what a real man needs. The others tried to seduce you with tricks, but I and my wiles know that the direct approach is required for someone like you.”
“I beg your pardon?” Peter cried out.
“You lie to yourself. Claim it is duty that prevents you from enjoying women’s company,” Sylvia explained. “I am saving you from that lie. Freeing you of your obligations.”
She forced herself on him. Her powerful arms, strong as an oak tree, wrapped around him in a passionate embrace. Their lips intertwined in a kiss so powerful, Sylvia began to lose herself in the moment. Writhing across the ground, she was surprised when he suddenly broke her grip. Peter crawled away from her towards his tent.
“I am most sorry, Milady,” he said. “Honor demands I remain chaste while on a mission. My duty is to the church first and I cannot waiver.”
“Honor, duty, blah blah blah…” Sylvia mocked him. “I know what you really need.”
She rose to her feet and freed the clasp holding her dress over her shoulder. The leaves lightly fell to the ground as she stepped out of it, naked to the open air. Peter fell backwards into the tent, startled by her brazenness. Sylvia pounced inside after him and immediately began to remove his clothes.
A few hours later, she emerged from the tent and stalked over the hill to the lake. Her sisters waited on tiptoe for her answer. She remained in the tent longer than any of them, got farther than the others, and they were curious as to what happened.
“Well?” Stormy asked anxiously.
“He’s too stupid,” Sylvia sulked.
Their laughter once again filled the starry morning air.
“So much for learning from a master,” Stormy laughed. “Were you… too stiff for him?”
Fantasy Creature Spotlight: Nymphs Page 4
