Sunlight fell into the clearing in glittering golden beams, falling about the woman laying nude upon the flat topped rock and caressing her skin. Her hands drifted down her body, pinching here, rubbing there, caressing at that spot, and lightly squeezing that place. Golden motes danced above her gently parted ruby lips, and perspiration glittered on her rich brown skin like morning dew as she moaned softly. Her deep sea green hair was spread out beneath her head like a fan, with green leaves scattered in her hair from where the leaves had apparently fallen from trees, and her opalescent fingernails glittered in the sunlight. Her deep green eyes were slitted as she gasped again with the intensity of the sensations rippling through her, causing her back to arc, her chocolate tipped breasts thrusting up toward the leaves above her.
Aveliene crouched in the shadows at the edge of the glade, squinting at the woman on the rock. She was looking at the woman's body closely, looking for telltale markings on the woman's body. The woman's nipples were large, and Aveliene could see faint puckering on the side of her nipples, each indentation filled with a tiny drop of thick clear liquid, and Aveliene knew that each pucker held a small thornlike barbs that would erupt from the flesh to pierce any flesh that came into contact with it, and the liquid was highly toxic, a powerful aphrodisiac and euphoric. The woman's hand had almost invisible fuzz on her palms, which Aveliene knew to be tiny needles, like found on stinging nettles, that would embed in skin and cause heightened feelings of euphoria and numbness as they dissolved into the bloodstream. That and other small attributes told Aveliene that she wasn't looking at some lovely hermit or beautiful nature lover communing with Mother Earth.
The woman was a fey.
Aveliene watched the wood-nymph attempt to lure her out of hiding and hid a smirk. Despite what many people believed, fey were very dangerous, enough that even her Step-Mother was wary around them. The nymph knew that someone was near her glade, and Aveliene could smell the rich loam scent of her pheromones even over a dozen paces away. Any normal mortal would be stumbling toward her, stripping off their clothing, their minds fixated by the impressive dance she was performing and by the scent of her, unaware and uncaring that fey like the nymph liked to play with their food.
The fact that the wood nymph chose to lay on the rock and pleasure herself to lure in food and playthings told Aveliene volumes. Something, or someone, had caused the nymph to revert back to a more primal mode. She should have been dressed provocatively, singing to herself, possibly playing a lute, pan-pipe, or harp. The nymph should have been surrounded by butterflies, bunnies, and dragonflies (maybe even with some Peepers watching intently and enjoying the songs, poetry, and stories if she was clever enough), and she should have artfully posed near a body of water. Instead she was far enough from a body of water that Aveliene couldn't smell any, which meant she was keeping far away from any water-nymphs, pixies, or kelpie's territory.
Three things could have caused the nymph to revert to a more primal behavior, Aveliene knew. If the section of the High Roads had been abandoned for long enough, without travellers, she could have born and never met any civilized creature, had never lured a plaything in to learn from and indulge herself with, had never had another fey teach her how to properly hunt. But that would have required centuries to go by, and the clearing was the exit point from the High Roads to Kingdom of Shulafta, which meant that either she would have been eliminated, or quite civilized, as Shulafta had only been destroyed a handful of years over a decade before.
The nymph could have wandered from deeper in the High Roads, the more primal areas where not even the halfling's caravans or the goblin tribes dared go. Or been transplanted from such a region, perhaps her black pine seed could have dropped from a passing caravan just before Shulafta had been destroyed, and she had grown in the last handful of years. But that would mean she would be much younger looking, almost prepubescent, and would be more interesting in frolicking in the forest among the sunlight, leaves, and butterflies. And killing and devouring all who entered her domain.
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The other choice was that something had happened where the High Roads bled into the Kingdom of Shulafta, where the two overlapped slightly. Something that would have severely damaged the land, something that would have returned it to a primal state.
There was only one thing that could have done that, and Aveliene prayed she was wrong.
Aveliene knew she had to get by the guardian, and there was nothing within a few days travel to distract the nymph with. She would have to cross the clearing, and that meant exposing herself to the nymph.
She concentrated for a moment, and her armor and weapons melted off of her, seeming to be absorbed by her rich brown skin, leaving her naked at the edge of the clearing. She reached up with one hand and rolled her nipples between her fingers, first one breast, then the other, her other hand dropping down as she parted her legs slightly. Her fingers moved within her folds, rubbing first the top nubbin, then the one at the bottom. After a few moments she slid a finger in with a gasp, rubbing the highly sensitive spot inside of her.
To heighten her pleasure she remembered the last time she had taken her pleasure from the Step-Brother, how she had chased him deep into the Primal Lands of the High Roads, had smashed him across the back of the head with a large rock, knocking him face first into the moss. How she had rolled him over, slamming the rock into his massive heavy forehead twice to stun him, and then how she took him into her mouth. Once he had been hard, she had straddled her and taken her pleasure from him, almost weeping with the way his length and thickness stretched her.
The nymph suddenly sat up, her hands falling to the rock and the leaves in her hair coming with the lush expanse of green. Flowers suddenly blossomed in her hair as she looked toward Aveliene and licked her lips. The Wraithkiller kept watch, remembering how it had felt when she had rolled over and used her powerful legs to drag her massive step brother on top of her. The nymph stood up, gasping, exhaling golden motes as she took first one step, then two, toward the Wraithkiller.
Remembering the feeling of Fraker the Axe driving into her, his growling urgent passion as he took fully, pushed her closer and closer to climax, the nymph coming closer in closer almost in time with her rising orgasm.
Just before she reached her peak, she stopped, stepping out of the foliage and into the clearing.
"Embrace me. Love me." The nymph whispered, her throaty voice husky with lust and invitation. Leaves parted and allowed a beam of golden sunlight to fall upon her, illuminating her in a warm golden glow, the dewdrops of perspiration glistening on her rich brown skin.
Fingers that were covered in dampness from her hidden folds were brought up to her mouth, and Aveliene rolled her tongue around her fingers, coating her mouth with the taste of herself.
"Worship me." Aveliene replied, arching her back slightly to lift her breasts, the sweat that had covered her during her self-ministration glittering. A single drop of perspiration rolled down the swell of her breast, across her nipple, to hang, quivering, from the bud of puckered brown skin.
The nymph inhaled and her pupils dilated as she smelled Aveliene's scent on the air, the breath from the duo of words Aveliene had spoken laden with her own scent. The nymph groaned, a loud, eager noise, and took another step toward Aveliene. Aveliene spread her arms wide, exhaling long and slow again as she stepped toward the Wraithkiller.
As the nymph approached, Aveliene smiled.
Sunlight sparkled as the nymph fell to her knees before the Wraithkiller, her long emerald hair puddling over Aveliene's feet. Warm hands caressed Aveliene's flesh, and the tiny dissolvable needles on her palms embedded in her flesh, causing her skin to light on fire as if she'd just snorted a heavy dose of skinfire. The nymphs saliva from her kisses made Aveliene's nerves flare with pleasure.
A low moan escaped Aveliene's throat as the fey's questing fingers opened her up and an urgent tongue pressed into her. The fey's venom did little more than cause Aveliene's lust to surge.
With a smile Aveliene took the fey down onto the ground.
Sometimes business and pleasure were one and the same.