CHAPTER FOUR
"Emma," Nigel asked, "are you from around here?" He didn't ask Khoraja because the people he'd seen working in the village were all human, so he assumed that the elves, orcs, and dwarves were visiting adventurers. Other than her sexy dress, Emma could be one of the townspeople, although she would have been the comeliest of the ones he'd seen.
Emma shook her head. "No, I'm from East Franken," she said. "Can't you tell from the accent?"
Nigel stopped himself from asking where that was. It might be something everyone knew.
"Where are you from?" asked Emma.
"I'm from ..." Nigel hesitated. "Earth" was a bad choice. He chose the place nearest him that sounded as if it might fit in this world. "Oakland. Have you heard of it?"
"No," said Emma. "I haven't."
"Have you been around here long?"
"I've been here for over a year," Emma said. "High Priestess Sivestara of Lionguard assigned me here."
"Have you ever talked to Sergeant Windstar before?" Nigel wondered what normal people thought of her, and how she interacted. Standing in the same place would attract attention.
"No, I've never seen her. I've been up to the castle a couple of times, and she wasn't there. There's an odd old Baron and his servants, and two men-at-arms."
"Have the goblins been in the mines long? What happened to the human miners?"
"I'm not sure. The mines are owned by the Baron, and the miners didn't live in the village. They'd occasionally come to town for food, or on their way to Lionguard. There wouldn't be much work for them in Belden so if they weren't killed I imagine they kept on going to the city."
The mines didn't just exist to be a quest zone. Perhaps he had appeared where he did because there were easy monsters to kill nearby, and Windstar was there for the same reason.
"Do you know Miss Mabel?"
Emma nodded. "The apple farmer?"
"Yes."
"She's a sweet lady. She comes into town once every week or so to sell her apples and buy things, and she always gives the temple a few apples as an offering."
He nodded and hoped she hadn't lost too much in the fires Khoraja had started.
Nigel took a quick look at his character sheet. He'd done a lot of fighting in the mines. Skills that had just gone up were in green, so they were easy to spot.
One-Handed Sword 4
Shield 3
Unarmed Combat 3
One-Handed Axe 2
Climbing 2
Staff 2
He was getting better. He wondered at the One-Handed Axe skill, until he spotted a few more like it. Apparently skilling up with his sword produced a reduced improvement with other one-handed weapons. Nice.
Other than his own improvement, he didn't have any context for the numbers. What were Emma's and Khoraja's skills like, or his opponents? Orcs were probably tougher than goblins. But how much tougher, and did that manifest itself in higher strength, more hit points, more skill--or all of the above?
Night had fallen by the time they reached the inn. The moon was nearly full, so it wasn't pitch black, and Khoraja lit his torch with magical fire during the last fifteen minutes of the trip. It felt like that awkward part of a date where one takes a girl back to her house, not knowing if one will be invited in for coffee or not. Or if coffee means coffee or something else.
A man in armor with a sword dangling from his belt stood outside the inn when they approached. He watched them for a few seconds and then went inside. Smoke break? Did tobacco exist on Aldrya?
"I'm going to the temple. May I take the torch? Unless you two need light," Emma said.
"Sure," said Nigel, handing it to her.
"Thanks! I'll see you around, perhaps?"
Nigel thought they had made a good team, despite Khoraja and Emma bickering. Healing, magic, and himself as the sturdy warrior. It worked well against the goblins. But he didn't know what he would do next, so he couldn't invite Emma along. "Thanks. Um, hope to see you soon, Emma."
Khoraja surprised him by adding, "Thanks for the healing."
Emma smiled. "You're very welcome."
She headed for the temple. She wasn't out of earshot when Khoraja said, "I'll be getting my own room for the night."
So much for coffee. Nigel wondered how many rooms the inn had--it couldn't be more than a half dozen, given its size. Hopefully, two rooms were free.
There were two rooms free, although the only one left after Khoraja got hers was the 'luxury room' that cost an entire silver for one night's stay. Nigel had to take it. When he got there, it was neither luxurious nor bigger than he expected a normal room to be. But there was a bed with sheets, and a lock on the door, although the lock didn't look sturdy. The room had what he needed. Maybe the innkeeper had just charged him more because he'd flashed some gold around. Well, he could afford it. He put his coin purse under his pillow and kept the goblin sword within reach on the nightstand. I'll have to get a new one tomorrow.
Once he lay in bed, he realized he was horny, and there was nothing stopping him from masturbating. His mind kept flitting from Khoraja to Emma. Khoraja was slender and athletic, and he couldn't decide whether to imagine her on top, or to think of her submitting. The latter seemed uncharacteristic, but it was still hot. Getting through that pragmatic exterior and finding a soft woman with needs inside was a very sexy thought.
Emma, on the other hand, was all curves, and her outfit had done nothing to conceal them. More than once he'd been distracted by her breasts while they were traveling. He'd been too conscientious to sneak peeks at the girls in the mines, but that didn't mean he hadn't been tempted. As his fist moved over his cock, he wondered how it would feel to slide his cock between her breasts, or if her mouth would be wet and warm and eager. He remembered her saying she did her work with one hand and her mouth, and the gleam in her eye when she said it.
He came quickly, thinking about both girls when he spurted all over his hand. Exhausted from a day of hard work fighting, he fell asleep seconds later.
He awoke with a hard on. He'd been dreaming. Could one have a dream inside a virtual reality? He couldn't remember what the dream was, other than it was wet and warm. He reached down to grab his erection, too hazy to be sure what he would do but thinking his cock needed at least a squeeze.
Instead, his hand encountered soft, silky hair. He opened his eyes and realized he hadn't been dreaming. Emma was there in his bed, naked, her head bobbing up and down on his rampant cock. He could barely see her in the early morning twilight. Her tongue expertly swirled along his length, and her lips provided strong pressure around the shaft. Nigel wondered if there was a touch of magic in her technique, because it felt divine. Although he just woke, he wouldn't last much longer.
She stopped and looked up at him with a grin on her face, letting his cock out of her mouth and giving the tip a slow, tortuous lick.
"Thought I'd wake you up nicely," she said, batting her eyelashes. On anyone else the gesture would look cliché, but she made it perfectly natural. "Any objections?"
Only one. "How did you get in?"
She grinned. "Doesn't take a rogue to pick that lock. I can leave if you want me to."
Which means it would be easy to murder someone in their sleep.
"Should I stay or should I go?" Emma asked.
"Stay," Nigel said quickly. Her mouth on his cock was a hell of a lot better than being murdered.
"Thought so," she said. She filled her mouth once more. His misgivings vanished.
God, she's good at that. She took the entire length of his substantial cock in, deep throating him. He hadn't been small on Earth, but no woman had taken his entire length before, and he was two inches longer here. After nearly choking herself on his cock, Emma would draw back and swish her tongue on the underside in a way that drove him out of his mind. Then she'd look at him with doe-like eyes, seeking approval, before she engulfed his cock all over again.
Nigel prided myself on his ability to last and gi
ve a woman pleasure, but no matter how much he tried he wouldn't hold on long under Emma's assault on his senses.
"Let me give you pleasure, too." His voice was husky with desire and need. He wanted to come. After Marie had broken up with him, he'd been celibate for a while, and then the accident happened. It had been way too long.
She lifted her head and stroked him, keeping him right on the edge. Her hand looked extra small around his cock. "You don't understand, Nightwolf. Your pleasure is my pleasure and my calling as a priestess. I can feel what you feel, and the better I make you feel the better it is for me as well." She moved her thumb over his glans with an exquisite, almost painful motion that nearly made him spurt. Emma smiled at him and licked her lips. "Right now I'm on the edge, wanting so badly to come. I only achieve my release when you do. Where would you like to come? In my mouth? On my breasts?" She gave them a delightful and enticing jiggle. "In my pussy?"
"Is your pussy safe?"
She stared at him. "How could it not be?"
People didn't have the germ theory of disease here, but magic probably trumped germs, anyway. Everyone looked healthy. It was the other possibility that concerned him. "I don't want to get you pregnant."
"Silly. That's impossible." She crouched over him. Her pussy was shaven, or magically depilated. The latter, as there wasn't a trace of stubble on her smooth flawless skin. She positioned his cock against her pussy lips. Slowly she slid down on it, enveloping him in her wetness. She wasn't lying about being turned on, although he wondered whether his pleasure was truly the best way to please her. She moved up and down on him with frantic desire. "Don't wait," she begged. "Fill me."
Nigel wanted to delay his orgasm and push her over the edge before he came. He reached down to massage her clit, but had barely touched it when he couldn't hold back any longer. In that moment he believed her about the source of her pleasure, and she'd driven him so crazy he was beyond selflessness. He rolled her over and thrust his cock deep into her welcoming pussy. He squeezed her irresistible breasts.
"Yes! Yes!" She pushed her pelvis back up against him, her breasts trying to bounce out of his hands every time he pushed in. It was like watching porn, except that he was fucking the porn star.
Her screams dissolved the last of his resolve. He exploded inside her, his cock pulsing again and again. Just as she'd said, she came a moment after he did, her pussy squeezing every last drop out of his cock.
"Holy fucking fuck," He said.
"Good, huh?" she asked with a grin.
That was an understatement. "Hell yes!"
"You enjoyed that so much... I loved feeling your pleasure. Wanna do it again?"
He regretted masturbating earlier, although he suspected he'd need at least a few moments recovery time, regardless. "I think I need a break first."
She giggled. "Men! Yes, I think you gave me everything you had. I didn't mean right away, anyway – just ... soon."
"I haven't made love to a woman for a while."
She dismounted and snuggled up close. "That's a shame."
He didn't disagree with her, but it was what it was, so he kept quiet and listened to her breathe. She was the perfect re-introduction into the pleasures of the flesh, and he wanted to savor the moment. Her body was soft and warm against him.
An unwelcome thought came into his mind. "Earlier you said--if it's not a tender subject--why is pregnancy impossible?"
She looked at him oddly. "Don't you have contraceptive magic where you come from?"
"Of a sort," he said. "Doesn't always work. Isn't always used."
"Hmm. Sounds like a backward place. But you don't look like a barbarian." She stroked his muscled arm. "Just a little rough around the edges. Oakland must be far away, because in every land I know of a spell is cast on every girl at birth, so she can't become pregnant, and just in case it's cast again the first time she--you're not squeamish, are you?"
"The first time she menstruates, I assume you mean?"
She smiled. "Most men don't want to think about periods. Yes, exactly. Anyway, the spell isn't undone until after she gets married, sometimes as part of the ceremony, or some couples wait a while. Even then, only her husband can make her pregnant. Anyway, you don't have to worry. You can fuck all the girls you want without making any little Nightwolfs."
She said it so casually. Khoraja had been clear about Emma. But she hadn't charged him and making love to her had created a sense of attachment he wanted her to reciprocate. "You wouldn't mind?"
"Mind what? You fucking other girls?"
So blunt. "Yes, me fucking other girls."
"I assume you've already done the elf."
He shook his head. "No, actually. I just met her yesterday."
"Oh! I hadn't seen either of you around. I assumed you came together. And then when she so loudly announced she was getting a separate room--well, I took that as in invitation on her part to..." Her voice trailed off.
"To pleasure her man?"
"Yes. Elves are well known for taking multiple lovers and being free with such things."
"I don't belong to anyone."
Emma smiled. "That fits what I know of you. Anyway, yes, I'm fine with you fucking other girls. Why wouldn't I be? You're a big strong man, with a big thick cock, and... I'm sure you have needs to satisfy. Most men like variety. Some women do, too. As a priestess of Inanna, I'm no one to say someone else shouldn't fuck whoever. Is it different where you come from?"
He nodded. "Most people are monogamous in Oakland."
"Hmm. Well, some people are here, too. Most people, but not most adventurers. Certainly not most male adventurers."
"Hmm." It made sense. Polyamory had always made intellectual sense to him, except in the way the word mixed Latin and Greek roots. It just didn't always make emotional sense. What was conditioning and what was a response to unwanted pregnancies, the desire of men to support only their own children, and STIs? The magic Emma described would make things different here. Even in the years since contraceptives had become generally available, American culture had shifted.
Even so, the conditioning was strong, and he didn't like thinking the woman he'd just had amazing sex with might fuck someone else tomorrow, and probably get paid for it. The light streaming in the window, illuminating her curves, meant it was morning. If he kept snuggling her, as nice as that would be, he'd get possessive, and that was a terrible idea.
"I'm hungry... how about you?" His stomach growled, as if to back him up.
She licked her lips. "No thanks. I had a big sausage." She winked at him.
Her lascivious smile was enough to get him halfway hard again.
"You go eat, though. I have temple duties to attend." She slid away from his body and put on her clothes. He watched her for a moment, enjoying her curves and her nakedness. Then he turned away and reached for his kilt.
She had less to put on. He wasn't used to women getting dressed faster than he did. She didn't wait for him, but headed toward the door.
"Emma," he said.
She turned. "Yes, Nightwolf?"
"Call me Nigel. In private, at least."
Emma smiled. "Nigel. And only in private. Thank you for trusting me with your true name, if that's what it is."
"It's true enough. And Emma, thank you for coming to me tonight. I needed that in so many ways, and you're a special woman."
The salacious woman who'd been shameless in bed blushed. "Thank you, Nigel. It was a very mutual pleasure." She opened the door and slipped outside.
He finished getting dressed, dawdling to give Emma a good head start, and then headed downstairs in search of breakfast.
Khoraja was sitting at a table waiting for him. "Someone's a late riser," she said when he approached.
Only a few other tables were occupied. The warrior they'd seen outside when they had come home the previous night sat alone at one, drinking from a mug and chewing bread. The warrior watched Nigel descend the stairs. In the light, Nigel could see that he was a hands
ome man, with dark brown wavy hair and a strong, clean-shaven jaw, although it was he recognized him from the armor. His deeply tanned skin created a rugged appearance, and a scar on his right cheek looked like it came from fighting, so maybe the sword and the armor weren't just for show. A dwarf with a long salt and pepper beard, dressed in purple robes sat at another table, conversing with a pretty human woman in green leggings and a tunic at the other.
"It was a long day," he said. "I was tired."
"I bet. The morning probably tired you out, too."
He didn't want to talk about that, and he didn't know if she knew or merely suspected from seeing Emma come down the stairs a minute before him. "How does one get breakfast here?"
"Sit down, and wave the waitress over. There's only one option: slices of ham and a loaf of bread. You have a choice of ale or apple juice, though."
He sat down, waved, and Abby came over right away. He was sure she didn't need to bend over and display her cleavage to him to hear his answer when she asked, "Ale or juice, sir?" but he still appreciated the view.
"Juice." It was way too early for ale, and if they could stop women from being pregnant with magic, they could probably deliver juice without germs.
"Hmm, I had you pegged for an ale man." The waitress straightened and went to fetch him some food.
"So, was she good?" asked Khoraja.
"Hmm?" Maybe if he pretended not to understand Khoraja would drop it.
"Emma," said Khoraja impatiently. "Was she good in bed? And don't play innocent. The walls are thin, she came down here with a freshly fucked glow, and anyway I can smell her on you."
"Yes. She was good." Was she jealous, or not? He wasn't sure which he wanted. Not jealous was convenient, but jealous would be flattering.
"Glad to hear it. I figured she'd come to you. Now her heals will be better, if we take her along to fight the orcs."
Not jealous, then. He remembered what Emma had said about elves. "We're not fighting the orcs."
Ascendant of Aldrya Page 5
