"I've no intention of doing so if I'm to shower immediately after," Emma said, sounding slightly exasperated.
"You're really having too much fun trying to tease me," Drake grumbled. "I thought we were trying to accomplish our task?"
She pushed his door open and led the way into his quarters. "I've very nearly completed a plan to do so, Mister Storm, but I've a need for the decadent, hot, sensual spray of your shower to…" Her words trailed off as she entered the bedroom. "Well, naturally we've a need to see your hygiene is maintained above all else, so I'll be attending to that immediately." She set her bundle of clothes on the sink in the bathroom, then began shimmying out of her dress.
"Right," he said as he watched more and more unblemished skin emerge. "And how exactly do you have a plan when we know basically nothing?"
"I'll speak on the matter shortly," she said as she hooked the discarded dress into her hands with her foot and tossed it over her shoulder. "Once you've joined me," she added with a flirtatious glance back at him as she stepped into the massive shower enclosure.
He dropped the dress and stripped out of his own clothes, kicking everything into a corner back in the bedroom to deal with later. Then he returned to the bathroom and, after a glance to the side, paused.
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"I'd begun to think you'd left me to shrivel," Emma remarked when he entered the shower, her gaze slowly sweeping over him along with the heated water from the jets.
"Had to take care of something," he said as he began returning the favor, running his eyes along her lush curves. "So what's this plan—"
"Once we've become well and cleaned, Mister Storm," she said in a chastising tone. She sashayed across the enclosure carrying a bar of soap. "We've only a single bar of soap, so naturally each of us will lather the other for the sake of efficiency." She pressed herself against him and began slowly rubbing the bar along his shoulders.
"Efficiency, huh?" he said, looking down into her eyes. He reached up around her and grabbed the soap, ignoring the soft feeling of her body. "Wouldn't it be even more efficient if we just used the second bar of soap over there?"
She pouted and draped her arms up over his shoulders. "You've no desire to caress every part of me with those strong, gentle hands of yours? None at all?"
"This is seeming suspiciously like a distraction," he said as he began to rub the soap over her back.
"Certainly not," she said, drawing back with a slightly hurt look. She turned around, and he continued soaping her almost impossibly smooth skin. "Incredible as it may seem to an individual of lesser capability, I've already arrived at a conclusion on the matter, though the precise manner in which we'll be providing our aid continues to elude me as yet."
"Conclusion… As in, you know what's going on with Ir'alith?" he asked. "But how?" She's been with me the whole time, so it's not like she could've gone off to investigate.
She turned back around, and he began lathering her front, prompting a pleased smile to curve her lips. "I've a number of facts with which to assemble my conclusion. Foremost among them remains her name, Ir'alith. You've no knowledge of her from prior to your arrival, as you've stated previously?"
"Yeah, I've never met her," he hedged.
Her brow furrowed. "Mister Storm, if you've facts pertinent to our task, I'll thank you to share them at once."
"No, nothing pertinent, just thinking of something else," he said as he poked a finger into her belly button.
She squirmed, then began to giggle when he moved the finger around. "No, stop!"
He grinned and continued until she bent over, gasping for breath as she laughed and clutched the probing digit tightly with both hands. "Should've guessed you'd be ticklish."
She moved her hands up his arm and pulled him down, giving him a slow, tender kiss when he came in range. "The indignity of my being ticklish is a matter I'll request you not speak of to others," she murmured after.
"Right," he said, now leaning heavily against the wall and breathing more heavily. When the fuck did she get this good at kissing?
"You've lost your grasp of our soap, I'll note, so I've the need to resume my onerous duties henceforth," she said as she knelt down in front of him. "Continuing onward from the point at which you grew distracted," she said, picking up the soap and beginning to lather the tops of his feet, "the name Ir'alith holds some manner of significance in my world. Specifically," she said, now working thoroughly along his calves, "it names the individual who rules a people known to humans as demons or devils depending on one's location. Similarly dependent on location," she continued, spending considerable time on his thighs, "these creatures may be regarded as either mighty warriors who lend aid in times of great need or hostile abominations who intend to slaughter humanity as a whole and purge us from the world."
Emma looked up at him while her hands meticulously maneuvered the block of soap higher up. "Which of these descriptions do you believe more likely to reflect our Ir'alith's temperament?"
"The former," he said as he considered it, using ten-out-of-ten effort to ignore the feel of her hands on him. Though the latter sounds more familiar in a certain sense.
"Indeed, you've arrived at the same conclusion," she said, continuing to diligently lather and wash the same area. "Additionally, we've at least some indication that she's no inherent hatred of humans, as she's befriended that scorpion woman—who appears quite human indeed, as I'm sure you've become aware from your more intimate encounters—and she's simply mocked me upon our arrival in this place rather than display any manner of overt hostility."
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"That…makes sense," Drake said. "And I think I'm clean enough there, Emma."
"I'll make my own determinations with regards to such things, thank you," she declared. "We've a need to ensure that no trace remains upon you of that scorpion woman's harassment."
A tremor ran up his spine, and he braced himself against the wall. "You sure you're not the one doing the harassing?" he managed as a twinge of pleasure spiked.
She paused and looked up at him once more. "As we're within your quarters, Mister Storm, you need only speak a word and I'll have no choice but to obey it," she said with a restrained smile. "But you've no intent to do such a thing, so I'll continue with the tedium of detailing my thought processes as I amuse myself."
"You're…" He gritted his teeth for a moment. "Really confident."
"As I've said previously, your every desire has been known to me since the moment we'd met." She smirked, and her hands resumed their job. "But I've no intention of gloating, as such a thing would be unseemly for a lady of any status, letting aside an individual of my lofty position. Our Ir'alith holds no inherent hatred of humans, and she'd seemed quite calm and restrained, perhaps even refined—in a manner of speaking—during our first gathering. Proud, most certainly. The change occurred in a single moment, as I'm certain you'll recall."
"Yeah," he said, steadying himself with a hand on her head as another especially strong jolt of pleasure ran through him.
"And as to the culprit, well, I've no direct information to support my theory, but I've a considerable amount of evidence which directs me to a singular conclusion," she continued without stopping. "First, the word hero upon the door to what I've deduced must be his quarters, which holds some significance in my homeland. Second, the manner in which he seemed to mistake me for my sister, Isemeine, which implies they've become acquainted. Third, his apparent acquaintance with my sister. Fourth, a letter I'd received from my mother some time ago which conveyed that Isemeine had been betrothed to an outworlder hero. Have you followed along to this point, Mister Storm, or have you become distracted once more?"
"So you think…" He sucked in a breath as he looked down into her teasing grin, "He's this outworlder hero from your homeland who was engaged to your sister?"
"Yes, quite so! Well done," she said, punctuating each word with a motion of her hand, having given up any pretense of using soap by this point. "Now that we've established this, I've further details to note from that same letter I'd received. If I've not mentioned it previously, the city in which I was born is commonly known as the City of Lust."
"That explains a lot," he said moaned, deciding to sit down rather than continue standing on increasingly shaky legs. How did I even get to this point.
"Oh my, you've grown tired already?" Emma said as she adjusted to his change in posture by straddling his legs. "Yes, I'd think a good sit is in order after you've so bravely remained standing despite my efforts," she added in a teasing tone.
"You're really something," he said, meeting her grin with a lazy one of his own.
"Truly I've a need to educate you with regard to courting a woman if you've reached your limit with a compliment so feeble," she said with a sad shake of her head, though she was unable to fully suppress her grin. "Returning to the letter, however, as we must, I'd heard that this particular outworlder hero had spent considerable time availing himself of the city's pastime, as it were."
"Lust?" Drake said, feeling exactly that emotion at the moment.
"Quite so," Emma said with a nod while her hands moved at a sedate pace. "Now, this last item's perhaps just my opinion, but I've quite the ability to discern intent, as you're aware by now. During my admittedly brief encounter with this cretinous individual, I'd felt a unique manner of discomfort, as though his gaze itself was somehow the equal to being directly salivated upon."
"This is…kind of weird to talk about while you're doing that," he panted.
She halted, looking back up at him. "Well, we'd best not waste the results of my labor then," she said, giving him a smirk as she leaned forward.
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"Knowing you're from a place called the City of Lust is really helping me understand a lot about you," Drake said. Fuck, that was intense.
Emma leaned her cheek on his shoulder. "And what manner of understanding have you gained from that knowledge, Mister Storm?" she murmured.
"Why you're so insatiable, for starters," he replied.
She ran her nails down along his scalp. "I'll again note that a simple double is even fewer than our previous number, and it's still nowhere near the dozen we'd agreed upon."
He chuckled. "Where are you even getting a dozen from? That's impossible."
"I've no desire to set goals easy to attain," she said, pushing herself upright. "Where was it we'd left off prior to your once again succumbing to distraction?"
He rolled his eyes but was unable to prevent another laugh from escaping.
"Ah yes," she continued without waiting. "Truly I'd felt disgusted once his eyes set upon me, and I've quite a tolerance for such things considering my upbringing. To summarize, we've a demon female of substantial refinement and pride, perhaps even verging on nobility, as well as a human male with a noted penchant for lust and an aggressive manner capable of delivering a modicum of distress to those he's simply set his gaze upon. As a woman myself, and one hailing from a place with some relevance to the matter of discussion, a certain act comes to mind which would most certainly engender a similar response if enacted upon me, though I've no means by which to confirm such a thing, nor can I—"
"Wait, you think Kazuto…raped Ir'alith?" he exclaimed with a grimace. "How… I can't even imagine someone being strong enough to do that? And she could just shapeshift out of it anyway, couldn't she?"
"I've no notion of any manner of specifics, but it's the idea I've arrived upon after piling the available facts up as I've demonstrated," she said, shrugging with her eyebrows. "You've claimed to have spent some time with him. Perhaps you've seen some manner of detail which might provide credence or doubt for my theory?"
Drake brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, the act causing water to sluice down his back in addition to the faint spray that continued to rain from the ceiling. That's fucked. Shit, why is everything here so fucked? Kazuto… His grimace deepened. He was really creepy about Lekthi when I was with them all watching Emma's match. If they hadn't apparently been stronger than him… "You might not be wrong," he said slowly.
The blonde woman's expression shifted gradually into a grimace to match his. "I've a related conjecture, though it's of no consequence at the moment." She let out a sigh. "Shit," she muttered. "I've two schemes devised, Mister Storm, the latter of which, while perhaps unsettling, I've some manner of obligation to carry out under a particular circumstance. I believe we may be forced to improvise to some extent as well. Listen closely as I detail your role, and inform me of any limitations with regards to what I've surmised of your capabilities…"