As Lyria closed the door to with a heavy slam, shudders ripped my fragile being. With every painful wail from Colby, fear cascaded through me. Her bright silver-grey eyes was laced with suppressed fury bore through me. Without uttering a single word, she directed me towards the spare room near the forge that served as his sleeping quarters.
Cradling the still crying Colby in my arms, I advanced towards his room; every step overwhelmed me further. Lyria’s cold discerning look bore through the back of my skull. Even her shadows, falling from behind, grew heavy. With a heavy breath, I set Colby on the bed, ever so lightly, like a precious poor thing, which he was.
Moments, later Lyria appeared, carrying a basin filled with bearable warm water and some clean linen cloth. She soaked the clean cloth and wringed the water with her powerful wrist. With the caring touch of a midwife, she slowly cleaned the blood from his face.
A heavy lump lodge itself in my throat when she finally spoke.
“What did I tell you about running your potty mouth?”
It took me a few interminably distorted moments to realise that the question was for Colby.
“nthing. I no wtong,” denied Colby.
Muttering something filled with sceptism, Lyria continued, cleaning Colby. I slowly reached out to take the blood soaked linen from her hand. Our fingers touched and waves of relief washed over me when she offered little resistance as I wrenched the cloth from her. I rubbed the blood and sweat from his face, with slow gently swipe, while Lyria rummaged through shelves in the other room.
I watched the heaving of his tiny chest as he struggled with heavy breath. Reaching out, almost on instinctive, I pushed the failing locks of hair from his foread. With the back of my palm, I felt his almost too small forehead. It was still warm. He is not cold from blood loss.
Meanwhile Lyria returned clutching tightly, a small and somewhat bright coloured nighgown in her callous hands.
“I have sent word for the druid healers. Now, let’s get your out of those,” commanded Lyria.
That was unexpected, especially given the situation but whatever it takes to keep Lyria calm. I deftly undid the knots holding my shirt, when hiss of disgust erupted from her.
“I meant him.” There was a rumbling growl of a feral beast in the last word. Yet, her target of anger was definitely not 'him'.
Colby protested in vain. Casting another glance at the nightgown made the gnome’s action all the more evident. It was Taltil’s.
“Colby, for the healers to work, you cannot wear tight clothes. It constricts you blood flood,” I whispered slowly to the petulant child.
Lyria, on the contrary, took a more direct and yet convoluted approach.
“Either you change by yourself or I get one of the shieldmaidens. They would be more than happy to nurse you back to health.”
Lyria’s domineering presence overwhelmed even the ever-ruly Colby as he silently changed into Taltil’s nightgown.
“You both should learn to take better care of your son,” said the old withered croon filled with condescendence as she stepped inside.
“He is not our son,” we replied in chorus.
The druid healer considered at us with cynical gray eyes. Lyria must have let her in while she was brining the clothes to change.
“He lives in your house, yes?” said the druid healer.
“I just provided a roof over his head,” stammered a flustered Lyria.
“And he is not even of the same race.” I chimed in with my valiant effort to defend the tarnished honour of Lyria.
“Ah..... parents and children cannot be of different race,” said the croon with a toothy grin mingled with vicious mockery. “Parent and children must be of the same race and two women cannot be in love.”
“I suppose he is just some random war orphan who walked into your doorstep. And you two are just good friends, who comfort each other, hold hands and look dreamily into the starry sky. Do you take me for a fool? I am an elf and old,” she said, pulling her wispy white hair revealing lobless pointed ears. “The whole Hold is aware of your lover’s quarrel.”
I locked eyes with Lyria, while another healer quickly scooped Colby in her arms and walked away with the gnome child. Waves of blush rushed through Lyria's face, turing it a hot crimson.
“I will take my leave now,” said the druid healer, leaving us just as abruptly as she appeared.
Alone, a sensuous silence hung between us. Mischevious shadows weaved in the intervening space, dancing in tandem to our rising heartbeat. Lyria’s eyelids fluttered rapidly. She failed to hide her anxiety. Her carefully erected barricade of stubborness promptly eroded away.
She darted her dazzling silver-grey eyes towards the door, deliberating her next move. Lyria composed herself as she suppressed her razing fiery desires and half-heartedly glared daggers in my direction. Not bothering to hide my sly smirk, I reached out to her tantalizing form.
“Rils, you should leave.” Her voice stammered under the crushing weight of her own passion.
“Or else,” I taunted. My tempting voice reverberated through the narrow corners of the room, multiplying the carnal promises laced in them. Instant discomfort raced along with the warm blood in her veins, only to step away to her wanton craving.
“I will throw you out,” she taunted between her chest raising and falling rhythmically. Brilliant beads of sweat trickled down, from her temples down to her alluring smooth cheeks.
“How fast can you do that? I reckon, it will not be faster than my lips on yours.”
With a strong grip that was impossible to break, her powerful arms held me. Her rock-crushing hold turned to a puddle before my lustful greed filled lips meeting her moist inviting lips. She offered little resistance as my tongue pried open her trembling lips. Her velvet tongue met, caressed and traitorously danced with my own. The fire within her saliva glossed across my lips with a burning sensuous caress. Soon, greedy kisses licked passionately against our lips. Desire overcame us. To be precise, we both wallowed in a tempestuous sea of tumultuous passion, a sudden hunger engulfing the raging inferno in our souls.
Leaning closer, holding each other, the space between us narrowed every so slowly, till our bodies became a mess of writhing limbs. As our eyelids drooped into each other, a flutter of carnal desires surged within her. That fleeting rush of ecstasy razed swiftly down her spine till it reached just above the luscious slit of her ass, weaving around to guide her highly resilient and unconquerable limbs to adoringly roll over my wanton body. Hot thighs warmed mine, massaging tenderly until a molten passion surged deep within me.
Pulling her ever so closer, tightly, I pushed her rich chestnut brown hair from her face. Impetuously bedazzling smiles exposed the raw lust steaming from her carnal smouldering core but with the closeness of our shared comfort, the stern facade holding her fragile self shattered. Hidden behind were frown lines of maternal pain; rejection; despair and solitude. Her fantastic carnal allure was just a deception, that concealed a stronger underlying emotion. She craved comfort. She passionately yearned for family ties. Only her doting love and affection loomed over me.
Regarding me deeply, she summoned all her failing courage to strengthen herself should I try to withold affection. What she craved sunk deeply in her heart, threatening her very existence. Ignoring my sinful seductive gaze for the first time ever, I witnessed Lyria, reluctantly, deny every selfish impulse and venture away from me.
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“Rils, do you still desire me? for who I am? for what I represent?”
Vulnerable tenderness glistened across her face. Slowly closing our distance, not rushing, or urging, I hovered my finger over her cheeks, brushing those tears away. My intoxicating touch, creating an ethereal silvery shade enmeshed through her skin. Rubbing my own fingers in the fervent warmth, clutching it ferocious tight -- forever.
What could I say to override the sensation stealing my heart? Nothing.
For me, every answer drifted toward a singular path, to yield to the sweet temptation of Lyria.
“I could not. Even if I wanted to.”
Her heartbeat violently, thrumming strong against my soothing caress. It slowly eased, as my words fell; finally finding resonance between our coupled souls.
The tantalizing scent lingering in her skin became her essence -- the sweet intoxicating air of Lyria. Her dark glossy curls washed over her cheek, falling between her breasts, making her radiant face flush deep red. I encircled her arms through mine, running her face across her shimmering temple, unable to contain the slow smile.
“Loving you brought me the greatest joy. Before I met you, I sated my lust with ever willing maids, warrior women, courteseans and even the chaste priestesses. Every single one of them content to entertain every wanton desire of mine. Your granted me more. You are everything. The feel of your naked form yielding in my arms, the loveliness in your breathtaking soft lips. I found hope in your waiting smouldering soul. You gave me courage to bring Delyn into the world.”
I slowly reached out to cup her face in my hands. Tenderly rubbing her face, soaking in her expression. Stroking her chin. Crooning words softly kissed her cheek. Without warning, at my affectionate gesture emotional nakedness washed over her, rolling alongside a tumultuous sea of ravaging desires. Embracing her, holding her fiercely, exhilirated by the silkiness of our held limbs, I buried Lyria in the moist warmth of my lips. No more words were needed.
Stirred by raging passion, I undid her laces, releasing her exquisite body from the coarse confines of her clothes. I rushed a loving kiss on the side of her neck, eliciting thrills that raced throughout her sensual frames; surging against my caresses.
Her eyes opened to look at me inquisitively; demanding answer. I needed no further encouragement. Her gorgeously sculpted figure begged me to devour her. There was only a trail of hot delicious delight with Lyria waiting for me to savour at the end.
While welcoming the sensuality of Lyria’s embrace, I found her excited fingers graciously unbuttoning my shirt, pulling it off. For a brief alluring moment, nothing mattered but the earth beneath our feet and the combined beating of our hearts. Our toes lightly nudged, our legs mingling tightly, as she looked opening her ruby lips, ever so wide enough for me to see her hot pink tongue flicker behind the pearly row of teeth. With uninhibited hunger she moaned, wiggling her hips, beckoning the tempestuous maelstrom raging inside me.
My quivering lips places tender kisses around her receptive globes of breast. Slowly. An eternity stretched between each kisses. She responded with a sudden familiar wave pulsating through her lovely form. She writhed under my touch like unbound fire licking a dry wooden floor. Lyria lost all control of her muffled moans. They grew louder as my bewitching kisses slowly progressed closer towards her dark areola amidst which sat her perky hard nipple. Rubbing her other nipple with my tender fingers, swirling those enchanting domes, gathering all my emotional rage into powerful squeeze, Lyria’s moan devolved into begs.
Her gorgeous melodic tone mixed with a lewd meaning each time I teased the appex of her breast. Enticed by her sinful moans, I slide down one hand, liberating her ass from the confines of her loin cloth. A deep seductive grin adorned my face as I grasped her firm ass in my palms, gently squeezing. My fingers desperately probed her vibrant amethyst-toned ass, spreading it wide for more of my libidinous caresses.
Moving slower, I placed tender kisses on her nipple, before my impatient tongue drowned it in passionate caresses. Lyria greedily grabbed my head, keeping my mouth there, urging me to continue the act -- with more vigour. My tongue swirled around her nipples, invoking waves of sensuous pleasure cascading through her. As she twisted her well-toned calves around my waist, her dark amaranthine skin made me eager. There was nothing that did not excite me more than her spectacular inviting form and the illicit noises that she made.
Lyria trembled between my tender caressing touch at the the lascivious slit of her hemispherical ass and the swirling taunt of my lips on her nipples. She arched with each movement. Her tail stuck the floor in a single violent stroke, fine cracks leaching from the point of impact. A sweet-dizzying passion churned her loving mind. With the anticipation building steadily inside her, Lyria was tossed aside by all loving motions. Carnal expectations tore her asunder. Embracing me tightly, skin to skin; her desperate fingers explored fumblingly across my back, till her callous fingers grasped a handful of my hair. I instinctively pinned her to the wall. Slowly exerting her flustering strength, Lyria pushed my head down. Eager to seal our libidinous union, she guided my head with trembling fervour towards her inviting slit.
The fragrance of her loins assaulted my nostrils, cutting short my breath. A wave of carnal desires rose tumultuously. Vibrant fiery heat exhaled into my nostrils ran over her dark-smouldering slit. Her inner recess, enraptured with quivering feminity as warm undulating hot breath from my nostrils gently flowed over. Greedily massasing her naked thigh. Fondling her sublime nether regions, till it dripped with passion build for sharp peak of expectation.
I knelt before a naked gorgeous Lyria. A slave before her goddess. Between her muscle-defined smooth naked thighs, lay hidden, the sweet throbbing bliss, encapsulated by her licentious body. Delicately seperating the soft folds in gentle suction, licking the sensitive part, I enshrouded the precious globule of pulsating tenderness in hot attentive kisses. She tasted divine. Her wet folds locked with my incessantly hungry lips. I suckled more.
Running my fingers across her wildly smooth inner thighs, Lyria responded by thrusting her hips, driving her gorgeous legs closer, my face arrested between her demanding thighs. As the pressure mounted on my cheeks -- her call for release -- I suckled even more vigorously. There was a surprising difference in her moans -- charged moans, as opposed to the quiet plaintive begs; more intense whimpers followed. Building gradually, her sensitive clit rubbed in rhythm, so exquisitively with my dancing tongue. My tongue continued its heated wanton caresses on the hard pearl deep within the smooth folds of her magnificient snatch. Her grip around my head tightened hard. The pleading demands in her voice rose higher.
Only alternative vigorous and shallow sucks complemented my teasing caresses. Both lips and tongue ravished every recess in her firm alluring cunt. Exposed behind her labias, I could feel her marmoreal canal twitching, eager for intrusion. Eager to spread her erotic depth. Her eyes widened slightly upon witnessing the increasing wickedness of my act. Lyria shook. Driven to a higher carnal delights, by indulging the rapid ascending sensation. The pressure heightened, liberating her from the shackles of modesty.
“Rils, finger, please.” Crooning, Begging.
A carnal sinful sigh escaped Lyria as I inserted a single digit in the wet place between her parted inner flesh. Her fluids gleamed into my view, lubricating the way for the second eager digit. In conjunction, I noticed a twitch of her swollen pink labia. Leaning forward I suckled deeply at her clitoris while another finger snaked its way into her dripping cunt. The ecstasy -- the empyrean heated pleasure -- surged deep in her tummy, eliciting lewd moans from Lyria, urging me to do more. Tongue frantic in her most sacred pink destination, lashing at her body relentless with fervent zeal.
Two fingers penetration, a third pressing for entry, pushing her to a throbbing peak of sultry ecstacy. Plunging into that secret darkness, taunting to stretch its untrammelled boundaries. Exploring Lyria’s secret sanctity. Igniting a wave of fiery pleasure upon each convulsing vaginal twitch.
Lips fully engulfing her ripe pearl, following her taut nerve endings with tender treatment. Feeling the hidden firm fruit pulse beneath my tongue. Lyria felt her body expanding, further with every loving attention. Her orgasms, the big explosion, finally bombarding her receptable core without relent -- mercilessly. Inflicting a wailing cry, evoking wave upon wave of wild climax. Concoting new fevered pleasure mingled with the recklessly spewed scent of her everlasting love. They flooded her very being, sinking her into a lustful tide of carnal excitement and release. Notwithstanding the rush of climaxes, Lyria finally collapsed on her knees.
Wiping the lucent beads of sweat from her forehead, I slowly wrapped my arms around her. Holding her close to me, nestling against her. While lingering in the afterglow, Lyria suddenly stirred.
“Rils,” she said softly in shock.
“Lyria,” I replied, still savouring all that was left to savour. There was simply no lustful need to touch that naked sublime body. Only blissfull fulfillment of her succulent warmth remained.
“We did it in Colby’s room.”
*****
With both our faces a shade of crimson, drenched in our flustered blush, we rushed towards Lyria’s room. As I rested myself in her sturdy bed, enjoying the sight of the divine serenity called Lyria, she swiftly pulled a long night shirt over her well toned torso.
“I have to change his oil,” uttered Lyria with unrestrained urgency in her steps.
As she reached the door, I called out feigning ignorance, “his oil?”
“A golem,” Lyria threw a loving glance in my direction. Her face, still radiant from my tender touch, wrinkled a tiny bit as she sought a way to respond. “Actually, more of an automator. He still cannot do self-maintenence.”
Chuckling to myself, I engaged her with contorted mirth.
“If you put it like that, then our son indeed needs his oil changed because he is not yet old enough to do it himself.”
Lyria stood stunned. Her soft lips opened, just wide enough to throw breadcrumbs as she struggled. Her silvery-grey eyes fixated on me deep, almost penetrating my soul.
After wrestling with a brief moment of trepidation, she beamed one of her immaculate smiles.
“Yes. Our son needs his oil changed in the middle of the night and from tomorrow onwards, it is your duty too, as his mother.”
Lyria bolted out after giving me one of her mischevious winks.
*****
The little paradise that Lyria and I, carved for ourselves, high up in the desolate High-Crag pass barely lasted a week. For soon, the first message reached us, partly explaining the absence of Cyrene.
Fort Halcyon fell.
There will be no evacuation of High-Crag Hold. We are truly caught in a desperate situation.