The two dancers right in front of us are pretty equally matched. They're both tall; they both have long, wavy black hair. One is bronze-skinned, and one is black, their muscles in arms and thighs and calves and stomachs comparable. They're moving with their hands on each other's hips; they turn, gazes locked, their eyes glittering in the lit hall. Despite the crowd, they have eyes only for each other as the drumbeat thumps, as the music moves, as they move with it. They aren't doing anything particularly sexual, not like anything you'd see on the VMAs or in a pop star's music video. But it is very, very clear that they are moving like lovers would move, and we are privy to this dance of love. I feel honored to witness something so intimate and lovely.
Again, the music stops as before, but the women, instead of falling where they stand, remain standing, remain holding tightly to one another, their faces an inch or less apart, as if they were about to go in for a kiss. And, again, the wild music starts up, and the women push back from one another, beginning to whirl and kick and leap. My heart was beating quickly before, but now it's beating even faster as I watch the women directly in front of our table. One is bending over backwards, her stomach in a perfect curve aimed at the sky, and the other woman is grasping her hips, propelling herself upward to hand-stand on that woman's hips, vaulting over her smoothly.
Just as quickly as they came, the women leap and run through those double doors, spilling out of the room like water running down an opened drain. They are there, and then, just as quickly, they are not there.
But now the party has really started, because everyone is laughing, talking loudly, eating and drinking, and Charix—who is still staring unhappily at the queen, who has still not said a word, but now drums his fingers with savage precision on the top of his table—is forgotten in the cheerful atmosphere of the hall.
And this is when the Magin starts to kick in.
I'd almost forgotten that I had a drink earlier, and that I had it on an empty stomach. In a matter of moments, I'm noticing that there are shimmering lights gilding everyone around me, lights that shimmer as brightly as glitter.
“Virago?” I murmur, dabbing a napkin at the corners of my mouth after I take a big bite of a vegetable pie. “Um...what happens with the Magin? After you've had it?”
“It makes everything...” She twirls the goblet in her hand around as she searches for the right word. “More lovely,” she finally settles on, and watches me with a pleased expression. “Is it kicking in yet?”
I stare at Virago's eyes, and I lean back a little more in my chair. Virago is always beautiful to me, but there's a soft haze around her now that makes her look like an exquisite painting. “Yeah,” I murmur, and the music begins to change again, now a fast, thumping drumbeat of a tune...and the knights at the our table leap up excitedly.
They're getting ready to dance.
“Come on,” says Virago, her smile as bright as the sun as she gets up, too, holding out her hand to me. “Dance with me,” she breathes, and I'm laughing as she reels me into her arms, as she holds me close and pulls me out between the large tables, into the area that the dancers used earlier. And everyone begins to dance.
I know it's not everyone dancing, but the effects of the Magin makes it feel like everyone in the world is dancing with us as we move together to the music. I grip Virago's hips, the feeling of the armor—cold like metal, but it doesn't feel like metal against my hands—sends a thrill through me as my fingers hold tight to my knight, as my knight holds tightly to me, wrapping her arms over my shoulders, drawing me close for a kiss.
And is it me or are the lights dimming overhead? Because they seem to be lower in this moment, this moment where it's just me and Virago and the music and all the bodies swaying and moving with us to the beat. I can feel the heat of her, radiating out through the leather and the armor, and she tastes of citrus and chocolate, because Virago has been drinking Magin, too, and everything starts to merge, somehow. Because my fingers gripping her waist suddenly feel the strength in her, feel the muscles even beneath the leather, feel her hip bones there, and as her mouth is on mine, I can feel her tongue, feel the strength of that, too, and the strength of my own, and how hot we are when we move together, and suddenly...
Wow. We need to go back to our room. Right. This. Minute.
I break off the kiss; I stand up on my tiptoes, and I whisper into her ear, my head reeling from the effects of the drink, but feeling so very, very turned on that I can't help it. I tell her what I need, what I always need, but what I need so badly in this moment that I'm going to die if I can't get it.
“I need you,” I whisper.
And Virago looks into my eyes, her own eyes darkening with desire, and in a single moment, she turns and, gripping my hand tightly, begins to move through the banquet hall, angling for the staircase.
As I look back towards Charix's table, I can't see him anymore. He may have stormed off; few of his knights remain in the banquet hall. I don't know what that means, but it can't mean anything good.
Still, I'm not concentrating on that as we stumble up the stairs, holding onto each other and feeling the heat thrum through our bodies.
I'm concentrating on Virago, holding tightly to her as we climb together.
The fire of my want is roaring through me. Magic roars in my veins as I kiss her again and again. And somehow (I mean, I trip on a lot of stairs; my shins are going to be black and blue tomorrow), we get to our room.
Chapter 8: I Need You
When I shut the door behind us, I can still feel the music down below moving through my blood, the drumbeat pounding like my pulse. Virago stands there in the half-light from the fireplace, crackling merrily in the room, and her eyes are hooded. When she stares at me with that potent desire, her mouth wet, her lungs breathing hard...I can't take it another second.
I step forward, and then I'm curling my hands into the sides of her breastplate, turning and pushing Virago up against the door behind us. Instantly, my mouth is on hers, and I can feel my veins thrumming with the drumbeat of my blood. I feel the heat, the need, rising in me, fierce and strong.
Shelley, blessedly, is curled up in front of the fire. She's taken care of, sleeping, dreaming—so all I need to think about is this. Now. This moment. I break off the kiss, I curl my fingers under Virago's metal, against the leather, and I press a kiss to the thrumming pulse point under her chin, on her neck, feeling the heat of her skin, the softness of it, searing me with desire.
And then Virago whispers those three words back to me, her voice low, growling, strained...desperate: “I need you,” she tells me, the words soft and dark.
Virago has never once spoken that phrase to me, though she has obviously made it clear that such was the case—many times. But those words, spoken between us, like an incantation...they're magical.
On another world than mine, with an enchanted beverage rushing through my veins, I grip Virago's hips tightly, digging my fingers into them, and I cover her mouth with my own, kissing hard. I drink her in, the soft strength of her mouth and tongue, the taste of her, the taste that I know, so deeply and intimately, as Virago, interlaced with that sweet chocolate from the drink. I gasp as she bites my bottom lip, as she sucks on it gently, and I move against her, fumble at the sides of her ribs for the ties that keep her breastplate in place.
But, no, she created this breastplate, this armor, and there are no ties for my fingers to find. I make my frustration known with a low groan, my fingertips curling over the leather, foiled in their quest to untie, unlace, unclip. I need to feel her skin under my fingers right now.
Virago senses this, because beneath my fingers now, I start to feel the metal heating up, and there's a small flash of light, and miraculously, the armor is gone. Virago is standing in her boots, her leather pants and her leather shirt...
And is there anything in the world hotter than a lady knight wearing leather? I really don't think there is.
My mind, my heart, but especially my body responds to the w
arm leather against me, because I'm working on the ties of her pants instantly, undoing them as I kiss her deeper, as I bite her bottom lip now, sucking, pulling. Virago's breath starts to come faster, more ragged against me. I pull her pants down, but just a little, just down her hips, and then I'm spreading her legs with my own, pushing them apart with precision as I hold her against the door, as her knees buckle just a little to let me in.
And I come in, I enter, pressing my fingers down, into her pants, twisting my hand upward so that it has purchase against the leather, and my fingers find her center in that moment...and oh, my God, she's wet, so wet, dripping wet as I stroke a single finger across her opening, as she shudders against me, her strong fingers gripping my shoulders as she groans, bucking her hips, throwing her head back to rest against the door. She growls out something unintelligible but needing, wanting, asking...begging.
A thrill races through me as I shiver against her, as I realize how much she needs me in that moment, and I can't hold out, even though I want to, even though I want to tease her, want to make her beg for it again. Virago is good at teasing, at drawing out of me that exquisite desire that she waits to fulfill until I think I can't possibly take it anymore.
But there's no time for that teasing; there's no time for anything but what she wants, and what I want so desperately to give to her. So I curl my fingers upward, pushing up and into her as Virago hisses out against me, as her hips buck, and we settle into this fast, exquisite rhythm, just as quick as the drumbeat that I can still hear, even this far up in the tower.
My other hand pushes up her leather shirt until her breasts are exposed, until her hot skin is against the front of my dress, and I lower my head a little, press my hand over her left breast, squeezing the nipple, tugging it and pinching it as I take her right nipple into my mouth, running my tongue over it, pressing it against my teeth but not biting down, not yet, as I pump my hand in and out of her, as we find that perfect cadence together. She moans against me, exhaling her desire.
We move together faster now, my thumb stroking over her clit with each pressing in of my hand, with each curling of my fingers. She must have wanted me for so long, because she's so ready, so willing, and it takes just a single bite down on her right nipple, just a slight increase in my stroking, and then, suddenly, I feel her tense against me, feel her insides clench as my fingers stroke up higher, faster, drawing it out of her.
She gasps when she comes against me, pulsing her hips against my hand, riding my fingers as she groans, shuddering, leaning against the door with the entirety of her body because she can no longer hold herself up. The climax moves through her, potent, undoing her.
Finally, after a long, tremulous moment, Virago draws her head down, kisses me with her trembling mouth. A surge of heat moves through me right now, because I am so turned on by the sounds she made, by the feeling of her wetness against my hand, by the feeling of her climax against my fingers, of her moving against me. I breathe out hotly as she kisses me, as she wraps her arms around me tightly, tightly, squeezing me gently as she lets her forehead fall to my shoulder in surrender, as she breathes out, still shuddering. I draw my hand with its wet fingers out of her pants, and I curl those wet fingers around her hip. I press a hot kiss against her nipple now, just standing against her, helping hold her up.
Her strength returns quickly; Virago is able to stand under her own power in a matter of seconds. I take a step back from her, and I raise my brow, a mischievous smile stealing over my face. Because Virago is hooking her fingers into the edges of her curled down pants, and she takes the waistband in her hands, pulling them down in one smooth, effortless motion. The leather peels over her skin (the clothing must be tight because of the armor over it), and soon she's standing there with nothing on at all, her shirt drawn up and over her head and tossed to the floor in an instant.
When Virago is wearing her armor, she also wears this crescent moon necklace; all the knights wear it, a horizontal moon with different-colored stones dangling from it. Virago now stands before me naked except for the wolf tail draped over her shoulder, held tightly to her ponytail with a leather thong, and that crescent moon necklace, glittering at her throat in the firelight. Her nipples are peaked, the tops of her thighs are wet from my ministrations, and she stands there easily, her hands on her hips, staring at me with glittering, lust-filled eyes.
Getting me out of my complicated dress is not as easy as removing a leather shirt and pants. But this doesn't deter Virago. She prowls, naked, around me, like a wolf pacing a large circle around its prey, and a shiver moves over my spine as I glance sidelong at her, as I stand there, perfectly still as Virago comes up behind me.
She draws out the bow of the laces from the top of the corset. I can feel her hands against the fabric, and I shudder a little as Virago leans close to me, as she whispers, her hot mouth at my ear, “Put your hands on the door.”
I gulp down air, desire pouring through me. My knees are weak as I step forward, as I spread my legs beneath the skirt, as I place my palms flat on the door in front of me, my arms straight.
And Virago begins to undo my corset.
I can feel the laces sliding through the grommets, the corset loosening from the top down. My breasts come free from their restraint, and my nipples are hard against the fabric. I shudder a little as the last lace falls way, my corset completely undone.
Virago pushes the shoulders of the dress down, and with the corset gaping open, my back is exposed to her. She scratches her fingernails down lightly, lightly over my back as I gasp; my head goes up and back as I moan, feeling the sensation of her moving against me in every part of my body, but—most significantly—in the pulsing center between my legs. I hiss out, trying to breathe as, again, Virago draws her nails over my back, coming up behind me to press her front to my back now. I can feel her breasts against my skin, and I shudder involuntarily as Virago reaches around, beneath the fabric of the dress, to find my breasts.
She leans against me, breathing hotly in my ear as she takes both nipples in her fingers and pinches them, her palms hot on my skin. The sensation of her skin against mine, the euphoria of the Magin rushing through me...it's all too much, too intense, too searing and strong, but I crave more, and Virago knows it. She pinches my nipples, twisting them gently, then harder, and her right hand leaves my breast. She leans against me a little more, and then she rakes her fingers over my stomach, over my hips, over my thigh, aiming for my center.
When she brushes her fingers over those Supergirl panties, a shudder moves through me so powerfully that I gasp out loud. Virago chuckles, low and growling, against my ear, and then she moves aside the fabric of my panties, tugging them a little so that they're tight against my center, before she moves them fully aside, questing beneath with her fingers.
I see stars when the pad of her thumb grazes my clit, stars because everything is even more intense now, my center throbbing with such a deep ache that I'm going to come, just from that simple touch (how powerful is this drink?), but no...Virago's not having any of it. She passes her thumb over my clit again, but so soft, just a mere brush of skin against skin, and it's not enough. It's too teasing. I need more.
That's when Virago moves, quick and smooth, and she begins to stroke me gently, too gently—she's teasing me—but increasing pressure, her touch coming faster now, harder, as she strokes my clit with her fingers, with her thumb.
My knees are weak as she finds almost instantly that perfect rhythm, that perfect rhythm that moves through me. I'm going to come, and it's going to be so fast. My knees are already weak, my eyelids already fluttering as I moan out, tipping my head back for her mouth to find my neck, for her to kiss me there, licking my hot skin...
It is quick and dirty and perfect, how fast I come, pulsing against her fingers as I breathe out, as my knees weaken so much that I can't hold myself up. But Virago supports me. She has her other arm around my middle, and she holds me against her tenderly as my orgasm moves through me, filling m
e with a bliss that undoes me in every way.
“I love you,” Virago whispers into my ear, her words thick with emotion as she holds me tightly to her, as my breathing comes fast. I see stars when I close my eyes.
I reach around behind me, thread my fingers through her ponytail, draw her mouth down to mine with a kiss.
We curl up together tightly on the bed, twining, my dress dangling off of me and me not really caring as I hold Virago close, breathing in all that she is. The moment I close my eyes, I'm asleep.
Well, in my defense, it's been a very long day.
Chapter 9: The Tea of Queens
We wake up to pounding on our door.
I blink, eyes blurry, and sit upright. I'm still partially (but not really) wearing that enormous gown from last night, and it's slipping off my shoulders. I try to pull the gauzy material back up and over my breasts, but I'm so sleepy that I can't really get a good grasp on the fabric.
“Oh, my God,” I mutter, yawning and glancing out the window closest to the bed. It's still pitch black out. “What time is it?” I blink.
“It's time to get up!” someone yells from the other side of the door cheerfully, before pounding said door again, this time even harder. That voice sounds a lot like Alinor. It probably is Alinor. “Virago! Holly! Rise and shiiiiiine!”
“They have that saying on this world, too?” I mutter, yawning and rolling over on top of Virago, who chuckles a little and places her hands beneath her head, raising a single brow as she glances up at me.
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