1. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Never had Farren been so grateful to have her face driven into the ground, the domineering brackets of his hands adjusting her to his liking was almost too much as it is. Her eyes rolling back at the feel of those callouses scraping her soft flesh. If only Aarno knew how carnally seductive she...
  2. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    That pet name had the same thrill dancing down the bowed column of her spine. It was enough to make her dizzy. "Slower?" Came her breathless question, teeth bared in sadistic pleasure. The feverish pitch of his plea left her powerless to do anything but fall back into the attentions of his hot...
  3. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private Where the Light Returns

    In time, even a haunted place remembers how to live. The mist was gone, and the dead long sent to sea, while those left behind endured. Because still, life marched ever on. Laundry returned to the lines. Bread rose in clay-baked ovens again. Fisherfolk pushed boats from the docks each morning...
  4. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    He swallowed her feathered laughter in a kiss, throaty and half-bewitched as it was. That primal drum that played in her blood, that spun fractious need low in her belly, would wait no longer to be paid its due, and she was ready to yield this game between them. With tethered agony, Farren...
  5. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Safe. That was the only word Farren could think of as Aarno lifted her from the floor, armor clinking with each careful shift of weight. She slung one arm limply around his shoulders, the other cradling that black bell to her chest, reluctant to tuck it away, feeling suddenly protective of the...
  6. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Davina snatched the knife from Faramund's outstretched hand with a flick of her wrist, her expression a scowl carved in stone. She didn’t thank him. His callous levity, his snarling jabs at her choices— he had no right to throw her sacrifices at her like stones. All of it rankled more than she...
  7. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Reluctant as a wolf pulled from a meal, Farren came up for air with a petulant sigh. Less at the earnest man beneath her, and more at her own shortcomings. She had meant to speak to him about this very subject beforehand, since she had been confident that this would've been the only path they'd...
  8. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    "Please...?" Came her mirrored whisper. And oh, what cruel and delicious things that did to her. How to describe feeling when Farren was nothing but a being overwhelmed by it. Every place touched felt treasured, every kiss too much and yet she was starving for the next—possessed as she was by...
  9. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Davina watched the door long after Aarno had vanished into the mist, she stayed there, unmoving, until the old fisherman cleared his throat softly beside her. “Thank you for staying to help, Mo'fta.” Her voice was distracted, barely above the wind. Her fingers squeezed his arm, brief and tight...
  10. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    A sharp thrill coursed through Farren at the sound of such an endearment from his lips. It was such a small thing, a quick thing, perhaps common in the heat of things— but it sprung hot emotion behind her lids and she wanted to hoard his words like gold to a pauper, to sup from them an ichor...
  11. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    "You," A single finger pressed against Faramund's chest, stopping him from attempting to rise, "will not be doing anything. If anything, you will be a liability and I doubt your fellow Knights will be pleased dragging your corpse home." Davina retreated back to her workbench, rifling through...
  12. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    The tension straining through Aarno's composure was deeply satisfying to her femininity. Farren drank it in, that flicker of restraint in his eyes, the tremble barely leashed beneath his skin. Never had she been so eager to wrought a man's ruin— it fed something carnal in her. The same part of...
  13. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Farren snorted through a scrunched nose, lips quirking despite herself. “That was terrible,” she said, folding him into her embrace, arms slung around his neck as she peppered his face with smitten affection. Tipping her chin to meet his gaze, she looked at him with a sudden mock graveness...
  14. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Farren couldn’t say how long she lay there under his dutiful devotion. Long enough for the lamplight to sink into steep shadows and for her to dissolve into smoke—formless, floating, more wanton need than woman. Her spine bowed taut again and again, elbow slipping from beneath her as her body...
  15. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Farren’s giggle burst out in startled delight, a bright sound that curled high and sharp in the tent’s thick air. “Oh—you bastard,” she gasped, breathless, the words twisted with a note of wonder, her brow knitting as her mouth fell open in a soundless cry. Gods. Gods. Sweat bloomed along her...
  16. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Farren bit her lip, a soft whine slipping free—helpless to stop it when his cock finally, truly touched her, despite being trapped in his pants. Her mouth flooded at the sight of him above her, the lamplight carving hungry shadows into the stone of his face. Gods, he looked wrecked, half-dazed...
  17. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private Aid of the Dawn

    The morning trek had been disarmingly pleasant in opposition to the mission they rode toward. Farren had walked out to the spring air to two palfreys saddled and readied by their squires. She spent time tying gear down with leather ties to the cantle of her saddled horse— a dark bay with three...
  18. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    Farren devoured his mouth like air. Her skin ached with want, sensitive and feverish, positive that the cool remedy of his hands on her would fix this wildfire. Still, it wasn’t nearly enough to sate her. She needed more, and she needed it now. The tremble in Farren's breath fractured into a...
  19. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private For Whom the Bell Tolls

    Davina wasted no time in gathering her dusted equipment from the open shelves. Stripping leaves from hanging herbs into a wooden bowl. And pulling long strips of clean linen from a basket, her son juggling it all in his hands behind her, determined to help. "Well, it's a good thing what I'm...
  20. Farren Lóthlindor

    Private the Trees and what belongs to them at Spring

    His words fell into Farren like warm rain on parched roots. They landed low in her belly and wrapped around that brambled fractious creature inside of her that had been bracing to be abandoned. He wouldn't have been the first man in her life to leave. And she wouldn't have held it against him if...
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