Ezril was halfway inside his tent when Lenaria pushed passed him. Surprised, he studied her, choosing to remain halfway into the tent as she turned to face him. She watched him with wary eyes, worrying her lower lip between her teeth in nervousness.
Ezril’s brows furrowed in curiosity. “Are you drunk?”
Lenaria shook her head slowly, never releasing her lip.
He stepped inside, released the tent flap to close behind him. “Is there something you want?” he tried. Her head bobbed quickly, enthusiastic, yet still nervous. Her hair bounced on her head. He took a step into the tent and away from the entrance. “Something from me?”
“Yes,’ she said quickly, lips immediately returning between her teeth.
Two more steps brought him closer to her. She stood, still, hands folded in front of her bosom, her visage cast in the warm glow of the tent’s lantern, giving a shine to her skin. He didn’t know how, but the look in her eyes told him whatever she wanted beckoned trouble. The hunger in her beautiful green eyes. The need. He’d seen it once before. He was seeing it again.
He shouldn’t speak. This was knowledge he possessed. Wisdom to guide him. Knowing the words on his tongue were certain not to serve him well he pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
All the while Lenaria watched him patiently. Her lips, free of their restraints, were slightly swollen giving them a fuller beauty. Her lower lip, a dark red, compelled Ezril’s gaze, and he found himself stricken by it.
No, he insisted, this cannot happen. This will not happen.
Lenaria looked up at him. She met his gaze, saw how she troubled him. She smiled. There was nothing of the innocence Ezril knew her smiles for in it. It was easy, but far from the one he knew. Her gaze flickered to his lips then returned to his eyes, and he saw in them that the decision had been made. He knew his restraint would not hold. He considered succumbing to the need. And for the second time he was met with a cognitive dissonance.
No. Even the voice in his head seemed to tremble.
Sexual content starts here.
----------------------------------------
Shaking the thought, he stepped back. He thought to run but he wasn’t anywhere near fast enough. He barely turned for the exit when Lenaria reached up, took his face in her hands, brought it to hers, and kissed him.
The thought of resistance barely crossed Ezril’s mind again. Lenaria’s lips parted and he kissed her harder, his tongue darting into her mouth, finding hers with a purpose. He drew her against him, determined to satisfy his long suppressed hunger. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder, pulling him closer with every kiss.
This was nothing like the last. The idea of a slow beginning was long discarded; left behind in the gathering or abandoned to the darkness of the night.
Ezril moved forward. He placed her against the single beam that held up the tent, pinned her between it and himself. Lenaria moaned. She brushed his lips with her tongue and he groaned in the pleasure, his hand sliding down her back to cup her ass. She gasped at his touch, and tightened her hold.
His hands kneading her cheek and he liked it. She rose her leg and locked it behind him deepening the kiss. Her gown slid above her knee to reveal beautiful thighs Ezril was too unfocused to appreciate. Instead, he picked her up. She wrapped her second leg around his waist, used his hands as a sit, nibbling on his lower lip as he settled her back against the beam.
Her hands shot to his hair, there they took root as his one hand slid beneath the gown to grasp her naked behind. A sound he didn’t recognize escaped his lips at the skimpiness of the cloth she wore beneath it.
She disentangled her lips from his, and grinned. “You like?”
His mind was too occupied to be trusted to give a coherent answer, so he buried his head in her neck, kissing, tasting her skin. His teeth brushed against her neck and she sucked in a sharp breath, then moaned louder. His fingers coiled around the frail piece of cloth around her waist and tore it free in one motion. She yelped at the impact, arching her head back to give him greater access to her neck.
The tent teetered, and a hint of sanity returned to Ezril. Lenaria giggled as he stopped to catch his breath.
Still carrying her, Ezril stepped around the beam, and moved to the bed in an attempt to drop her. The sound of her giggles fell. He looked up to meet her. Green eyes looked back at him, and he wondered from whence the thought had come. She looked down at him, beautiful green eyes watching, looking with unhidden worship. She had always looked at him this way, but only now did he truly see it. Appreciate it. It had always been there. The worship. The love. The joy. And tonight, the hunger and anticipation.
The sanity left as quickly as it had come. She must have seen it because she smiled, releasing a breath he hadn’t noticed she’d held. Almost at the bed, she wriggled in his grip and he released her, letting her drop to her feet.
Eyes still locked on his, Lenaria’s hands moved to her shoulders. In one move her gown fell to the floor. Her gaze grew nervous as he took her in. His eyes cascaded down her soft lips, now swollen from kisses, to her neck, her olive skin glistened where his mouth had met it, stopping on her breasts. They rested beautifully on her chest, round and firm. Her nipples, perky, a slightly dark peach, looked back at him, erect and tight, and he found himself wondering if they hurt. Again she worried her lips between her teeth.
He ignored it. A single thought in mind, he closed the distance between them, picked her off the floor and away from her crumpled gown. He dropped them to the bed and his lips covered one nipple. He worked the other between his finger and Lenaria purred beneath him. Her back arched, her hand lost in his hair as she pressed him against her, demanding more as he flicked her nipple with his tongue, licking, then retook it between his teeth. She moaned his name as his other hand slid up her inner thigh and he smiled.
His hand found her wet. Hesitating for only a moment, he trailed a finger up her slit feeling her moan as she caressed the back of his head. Her legs parted slightly, giving him permission and he repeated the movement, this time grazing it at the top where it was swollen. She quivered at his touch and his fingers ceased their adventure. Now, they moved with a perceived understanding. His thumb stroking the flesh as his finger found its way between the lips, sliding in and out, reveling in her wetness as she moved in rhythm.
Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work!
He increased his speed noting how she responded with each stroke. Releasing her nipple from his mouth to taste her he squeezed her breast, pinning her to the bed as she buckled against him, writhing in pleasure, her hands clawing at his back in quagmire. Pushing one moment and pulling the next.
Releasing himself from his kiss he looked at her when he felt her tighten around his finger. Watching her bite down on her lip he took pleasure in the sight of her as her eyes rolled up, eyelids quivering, and finally, she buckled beneath him, a spasm between her legs, now crossed, locking down his hand.
After her final spasm, her buckles subsided and she remained beneath him, unmoving and eyes closed. Smiling, he placed a kiss on her forehead. Catching her eyes as he came away. In it, he saw her exhaustion. And her satisfaction.
Moving from where he was, he positioned himself beside her, dropping on his back. A determined throb between his thighs. Determined to ignore it, he closed his eyes and sighed.
There was pleasure in this, questionable pleasure, but pleasure nonetheless. Her release was satisfying to see, and knowing he had giving it to her served a greater satisfaction. Everything he’d learned had taught him that this was wrong. But wrong felt like nothing but a simple word now. A word without a meaning. It was like fire that neither brought heat or provided light. It was like fire that did nothing.
He had no problem with fire that did nothing.
After a moment which had seemed longer, something poked him in the side. He turned to find Lenaria, naked, tracing a finger along one of his scars, and realized he was without his shirt. When—, his thoughts broke away as he remembered losing it while he’d been tangled with her.
Lenaria rolled on top of him, sitting on his lap, her knees resting on both sides of him, she straddled him.
“What are you—” he began, rising.
She pushed him back, smirking as she unfastened his belt, working the waist band of his trouser. Her intentions dawned on him but before he moved her hand disappeared into his trouser, taking hold of his full length. He groaned at her touch, suddenly unwilling to fight back as she retrieved her quarry from its restraints.
Ezril saw the impatience in her eyes as she stroked him. Her hands gliding up and down his length. Unwilling to fight anymore, he resigned himself, enjoying the pleasure of her hands. Plus, he needed the release.
Lenaria moved again, adjusting her position and climbing higher. The realization of what would happen dawning on him, he rose again. But anticipating his actions she shoved him back again. Still wet, she rubbed his tip against her entrance and she moaned at the same moment a groan spilled from his lips.
Perhaps, he debated, perhaps just this once.
She guided him inside her. Barely inside, he thrust his hip up in his impatience and Lenaria sucked in a sharp breath. Her eyes shut in pain and her lips retreated into her mouth as he slid deeper into her.
“Hey, hey, hey,” he blurted, panicked hands cradling her face. Her hands resting on his chest for support. “Are you alright?”
Her brows slid higher on her head but her eyes remained shut as she nodded, biting harder on her lips in endurance.
“Maybe we should stop,” Ezril suggested.
Lenaria’s eyelids snapped open and she studied him. Coming to a conclusion she rolled her eyes at him. “Oh shut up.”
She moved up, partially releasing him and he groaned at the loss. Then with visible effort she braced herself and dropped back, taking the full length of him inside her, the only sign of the pain she felt evident in her gasp. Now, she looked down at him and smirked.
He relaxed now, taking great pleasure in the warmth between her legs as she dripped down his length. It was a feeling he’d never known. A feeling he’d never thought possible. And for the first time, he felt… satisfied.
Convinced it couldn’t get any better, she moved and his eyes grew unfocused at the pleasure. Ezril watched her beautiful breasts bounce as she rose and fell. Sliding him in and out of her, he soon found himself thrusting against her. Unable to reach the satisfaction he craved, he gripped her hips on both sides and thrust harder. She gasped at the impact and bit down on her lips, giving him the control his hands demanded. The sound of his thigh slapping against her behind filled the room with each thrust, her moans granting a beauty to it.
Taking his hands, she slid them up to her breasts, the feel of her soft skin a pleasure to touch. She squeezed his hand forcing them to squeeze her breasts in turn. He felt her spasm against him as he throbbed for release, instinctually thrusting faster and harder. Lenaria moaned louder, calling his name and demanding he thrust faster. A litany of carnal words spilling from her lips.
Unable to withstand his own desires, his hands moved to her hips, temporarily missing the feel of her breasts. She leaned into him and kissed him as he gave a final thrust, releasing inside of her as she quivered against him unable to move from where he’d held her in place.
His trouser hung just above his knees. His pelvis touching hers as he caressed her hair gently. And they laid there a while, naked and unmoving. Him still inside of her.
Sexual content ends here.
----------------------------------------
Morning found Ezril staring at the tent above him. The darkened brown did little to assuage the smile on his lips, and he wondered at the last time he’d awoken to the morning happy. Lenaria’s breath against his neck was warm from where she laid cuddled against him hidden under the covers he’d thrown on them sometime in the night after readjusting their positions. He felt her snuggle tighter and he sighed in content.
He turned his attention, a movement at the entrance having interrupted him. Shatsua stood there, a tray in hand holding up two bowls. He had long since learned the child’s name but was yet to have a conversation with her. Confusion clouded her expression, perhaps at the sight of only him present. A confusion that slowly drifted into puzzlement when Lenaria moved beneath him.
“Who is it?” Lenaria drawled under the influence of slumber.
Ezril tightened his hold on her but said nothing. His eyes never leaving the girl, he watched wide-eyed shock grift puzzlement from its place with realization. Pressing her lips in an embarrassed smile, Shatsua abandoned the tray on a nearby stool and left the tent in a hurry.
Ezril almost laughed.
Raising the covers, he looked down at Lenaria who remained determined not to move. “I fear we may have traumatized a sweet innocent child.”
She mumbled incoherently at being disturbed and his smile widened.
He dipped his head closer to hear her words. “I didn’t hear you.”
Lenaria sighed in exasperation. “I said,” she frowned, “she was bound to see something if she always came. Now she has, I’m hoping Helva will stop sending her.”
Ezril could only shake his head. For all he knew Lenaria couldn’t be bothered by such things. He loved her for it, but it had an effect of discomforting others. Not that it had ever brought him discomfort.
The covers slid from him, pulled with a decisiveness as Lenaria left the bed. Wrapping it securely around her, she moved to the stool. She uncovered the bowls and surveyed their contents. She lifted one, dipped her smallest finger into it and tasted its contents.
“You good?” Ezril asked her having noted how she limped, and taking no small pride in himself.
She looked over her shoulder at him. “Are you trying to be funny, Ezril?” She returned the cover to the first bowl and repeated the process with the second. She smacked her lips audibly before she spoke again. “You know very well that I’m not good.” She dropped the bowl. “And Ezril…”
“Yes.”
“Wipe that smirk off your face before I get back or I’ll wipe it off for you.”
Ezril bit down on his lip as she walked up to the entrance and fastened the flaps together with a few pegs. Turning back to him she approached the bed consciously trying to hide her limp.
She leaned down and pecked him on the lips. “Good boy,” she praised at the absence of a smirk. And standing straight, she let the covers fall to the ground, revealing her natural beauty before climbing into bed with him.
Moments later, his trouser joined the covers on the floor.