Farren’s breath hitched as he pulled her to the edge of the bed— heart lurching, not in fear, but something bright and giddy. The world tilted slightly as her thighs slid to frame his broad shoulders, and it struck her then, with no small intensity, that without her bells she couldn’t shift. Couldn’t grow teeth, or claws, or wings. Couldn't run.

Not that she wanted to.

But the realization that Aarno was no small man. Built by stone, all that strength carved by hammer and labor. Yet even now, even here, he gave her the reins. The power of their pace in her hands. And how strong that made her feel. The thrill of it all rushing over her skin, electric, and alive beneath the weight of his palms.

Still, inexperience prickled her scalp, the secret fear at whatever small chance there was at being rejected for her follies in romance.

Farren wasn’t practiced in this. Not really. A few stolen trysts, quick things, wild things, fumbled in summer grass, breathless beneath shepherds. In the blaring oversight of her own needs, as of yet, she'd never had the elicit pleasure of a man on his knees before her. And so now she just stared at him, tongue heavy and struggling to answer his expectant look with a response that voiced her desires with confidence.

Farren blinked, cheeks flushed with heat.

“Is it okay if I say I don’t know?” she murmured, an uncertain laugh ghosting from her. “Just that I want it?”

Her thumb brushed the corner of his mouth again, nervous energy trembling faintly in her fingers.

“That I want you.”

@Aarno
 
There’d been no resistance, even what seemed like delight, but— Was she—

Blushing? A new sort of stillness rattled him to deeper attention, such contrast against her daring and unfaltering grip a mere slow minute prior. The bite of pretense fell from him, giving way to a softer curiousity and touch that’d yet hold on. Assuring, partly himself for how she hadn’t exactly pulled away. Not even flinched, but—

Too far? Second thoughts? His lips parted in drawing of breath, preparing to ask any which one of the many things, but she well beat him to words at the same exact beat. Face slack, he listened, eye to eye.

What she admitted, the not knowing, perhaps even shame for not having an answer to satisfy what he had spun for, was enough to explain away the tension in his frame. The immediate, pressing thing, and yet he was no better for it. And why— because what she claimed as certain felt worse.

Not for what it meant, never. but how tender and true it sounded. He cast his look down, to hide it from her, forcibly expressionless as he took the hand she’d reached out, kissing it. Held on and pressed it against his cheek, yielded a laborous huff in place of words, lest she hear the ache in his throat.

To be so infinitely satisfied and embarrassed all in the same little moment that was not supposed to go like this at all.

“ I— “ It left him in a croak, interrupted to the clearing of a throat. Composure, you goddamn— He wanted to say he wanted her too, soft, hard, all of it, but the very sound of it on the tip of his tongue took his voice away. So he’d give it up, for something easier. He leaned against his arms, coming closer, not quite touching his mouth to hers.

“ It is. Okay. “ A little steadier as he willed a new quirk to his lips, not quite a smile, and slipped the vial to her hand on the sly to have both of his free. Her other hand he guided to his shoulder, giving her a tether. Control, to be seized at will.

“ You have me. “ He assured, to the inches of air betwixt them. “ And I’ll say please how I will. “ A bit of that old play, a dash of attitude in his tone as he sunk lower, hands caressing her thighs, upwards. Past the hem of the tunic, for the waist of her leggings. Settling there, thumb stroking the outline of woven lacing, but not pulling on any which string. Not yet.

“ Let me help you out of these. “ He spoke on her neck, hovering a kiss there.

“ Please. “
 
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 even he too found her to be too much. Too strange. Not enough.

But Aarno's tender words settled that fear— sent it back to slumber so that it may haunt her another day.

Her hand slid from his shoulder to the nape of his neck, fingers threading into his hair with a steadier touch this time. She guided him forward, eyelashes fluttering as his fingertips found the bare skin of her stomach. Hot anticipation for the callouses she knew that adorned his palms. The vial in her hand almost slipped. She barely noticed.

She glanced up through heavy lashes and was caught in the fire of those ember eyes, eyes that smoldered like coals buried deep in ash, heat banked but burning, waiting to reignite. Her breath stuttered in the charged space between them and she watched his pupils blow wide, swallowing the copper light. Something primal in her unfurled to answer.

“Okay,” she whispered, nodding her head in short fervent shakes, then again, more urgently, “—okay. Yes. Yes. Please—Yes.”

Her grip in his hair tightened as she surged in a roll and ground her hips against him in one fluid press that dragged them flush. Her mouth found the heat of his again, capturing it without gentleness, unable to stop herself from feasting with the clash of teeth and the hot exploration of his mouth with her tongue. It was an indelicate and consuming kiss, and it devoured the last of her doubts and reason, committed to losing herself in this moment, in him, and letting it finish setting the last tinder of her arousal ablaze.

@Aarno
 
The spider of her hand crept to the back of his neck, seizing his hair, and his stomach lurched. A heavy breath in the chamber of his mouth making a low sound, trapped behind a row of teeth that bared with satisfaction. It threatened new fire, his fingers trying the soft skin beneath her garments with a bit more daring, firmer. Otherwise he was still, watching her, coaxing with every fiber.

What she did meant more than than the whispers and the nods. The firmed grip, the distance that fell away in a rustle of garments and bedclothes, violent. The anticipation boiling in his chest surged to his limbs, his mouth and his cock as he caught her, chest to burning chest. For want of her bare skin against his he kept his hands on her, exploring her back, the ladder of her ribs, her waist and pressing to flesh, closer.

She was claiming territory inside him with her tongue and he met her mouth in kind, head tilting even as their teeth ground together. Too far, but wanting further yet. He struggled to breathe and it didn’t matter. What a beautiful, strong tide to drown in.

He needed to get off this floor. But, first—

His hands dropped lower, one grabbing her arse in a firm splay of fingers. The other he led in on the sliver of space betwixt them, going for the laces at front of her leggings. Found, after a search that was half fever, half determination, the wooden point of a drawstring and pulled.
 
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 low, greedy snarl against his lips as she tossed the vial aside, glass be damned where it landed.

Her freed hand scrambled at Aarno's, fumbling for the one tugging at her leggings and dragging it up to her chest instead, guiding his palm over the swell of her breast. The contact luring a moaning sigh from her throat, her back arching into it. "Yes. There we go."

Still kissing him, still starving for every inch, her hand gave one fleeting tug in his hair, as if reluctant to ever let go— but she did. She did, only to shove both hands at the band of her leggings, pushing them down with sharp, impatient movements.

She gasped into his mouth when his hand returned to her ass, panting through the dizzy mess of breath and friction and the relieving feel of fabric yielding and soft fur brushing her bare flesh.

@Aarno
 
A gasp, a soft ha for how hungry the press of his hand on the malleable of her chest. Fingers curled, opened again, a thumb brushing a circle into the velvet of her areola and over the nipple. Harder.

Her movements were a blaze, yanking and pulling like she’d grown tired of his tarrying, spilling out of his script. He didn’t mind the smudge, stare burning through the haze and helping her the rest of the way, expressionless. Drew back just enough to pull her legs free, the sharp sound of cloth being tossed to the floor quickening the blood. He could feel his heart in the entire length of his arms, to the tips of the fingers that were weak with desire. Sapped of finesse.

Fuck that. He pulled the tangle of her against him, rising from the floor and slipping over her on the bed to press their bodies together. Braced against an arm, one hand stroking a long line over her thigh and bending it against his side, all the weight where he wanted their fronts to meet. The hard line of his cock against the hot of her cunt.

He huffed, withdrawing from the kiss to land a glare upon her, meeting the dark silver of her eyes.

“ You’ve done this. “ Wrought, proper. His hips pressed in, accusing for just another second before letting off, hand stroking down to the junction of her thigh and hip. Teased the bare of her abdomen, exposed by the tunic that’d ridden up. A semi circle on the soft of it, up and then downward, fingers gliding to the coarse hair betwixt her legs. Felt for her bones and pressed with the entire palm, just the one stroke.

He wouldn’t allow himself to kiss her mouth again, breathing one on her neck instead.
 
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 with restraint, and how wicked she felt that all she wanted was to see him come undone. To watch that brow break under the weight of wanting. To drive him to a place where only her name begged from his mouth, sharp and trembling, as she spurred him into heated oblivion and spent limbs.

The pressed weight of him against her soaked slit sent shocks through the base of her spine, white-hot and spiraling. His voice rumbled low in the hollow of her ear and her jaw flexed on reflex, hunger needling through her in the form of bared teeth. She wanted to sink them into the column of his throat, hold fast, and never let go.

“No, not like this,” she teased, voice catching, head turned into him like gravity. “Not like this yet I haven’t.” She hooked one leg up and over the ridge of his hip, opening herself to him, chasing the full length of contact.

But it was his hand slipping down, between her thighs, that dragged another moan from deep in her chest and the urge to push him back to heel. Yes, yes, yes. Keep touching me.

One hand anchored firm to the curve of his bicep, fingers curling, grounding herself against the trembling urgency sparking through her nerves. The other slid beneath the rise of her tunic, shoved it upward until her palm found the swell of her other breast, mirroring his worship.

Unable to resist, she licked up the side of his neck, slow and searing, before biting down on the lobe of his ear. Her mouth sucking it into the heat of her lips as she rolled harder against his hand, greedy and insistent.

“And what are you going to do about it?” she whispered, sadistic and grinning, letting the words drag across the sensitive shell of his ear like teeth sinking into ripe fruit.

@Aarno
 
The tendons in his neck bounced beneath her tongue as he keeled his head to give her more room, eyes drifting shut. The wet of her against his hand, how she tilted her hips to meet him with her own pressure, called to his base urges. His cock twitched, the want a warm tickling simmer in the bottom of his belly.

And she dared whisper in his ear. He stifled a shuddering breath into the bend where her neck met shoulder, sucking that thin skin betwixt his teeth for a bite. She was teasing with that tone, conjuring the image where he tore at her and yet, not asking for it.

He thought of something to say, equally thrilling or teasing, but couldn’t. Focused on a handful of her breast, soft, and the feel of her grinding against his fingers, hard. He spread fore and middle to catch that nub of her betwixt them, raking over it. They hooked up and tried the inside of her, putting that bit of pressure against the bone.

But that wouldn't be it, would it? He needed more.

He was going down again on a wild whim, catching the entire sight of her spread before him, never letting go of her breast as he kissed a trail through the center of her body. Hasty, spittle thick in his mouth for how well she’d drained him, a groan in his throat for how it felt in his cock as he slipped back on the bedclothes.

Fuck. Parched, he licked his tongue over the row of his teeth and swallowed. His other hand came to rest on her belly, kneading into it, the back of her thigh against his shoulder as he sunk to plant his mouth on her. Kissing desperately, the bones of his face pressed to her nethers, aching lips parting to let out his tongue.

With it, he spelled the runes of her name. That’d be a start.
 
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 hairline, and she sat up on her elbows to watch this man, her entire focus on the sight of his feasting. The sight undid her.

There was no room left in her for shame or self-consciousness, only the crackling immediacy of his mouth moving hot and languid through her cunt. Her breath hitched, scattered like leaves, every nerve strung tight and waiting. Her fingers clawed blindly at the furs beneath her hips, desperate for something to anchor her, something to keep her tethered when the pleasure tried to pull her up and out and into the stars.

And then she felt the subtle bracketing pressure of his tusks where his face pressed in, and it wrung a sharp shudder from her leg. Her hand slid down, traveling along the corded strength of his hand at her breast, to his curved shoulder, and sunk into the thick harbor of his hair, grabbing hold like a drowning woman, dragging him closer, using his mouth as she saw fit. She could feel the pleasure building in her belly, slow at first, then pulsing, rolling like thunder beneath her skin. Each stroke of his tongue sent another shot of heat curling inward, ricocheting through her, and hitting the cords of her spine.

“Mm— yes,” she whimpered, molten. “Just like that. Aarno, please. Yes. Lower— slower— right there.” Her voice trembled on the edge of wreckage, and still she had more for him to ruin.

Outside the yurt, the faint hum of voices passed— somewhere beyond the pulsing of blood in her ears, but Farren was beyond caring. So be it. If anyone heard, let them.

They should be so lucky to be on their knees. Let them know what worship looked like.

@Aarno
 
Bastard.

For all his breathless work, he still managed to smile. She may as well have said she loved him — the tune of the word it’s own music, beloved to anyone who should toil. And wish to do it well.

The sudden grip in his hair made him surface for air in a gasp, more delighted than startled, mouth open and aglisten with her in the dim light. She looked positively feral, beyond what he’d imagined by the keening and the twitching, those little ripples in the muscles of her spread legs. He wouldn’t dare stop for a second, back at it and listening, the force of her hand pressing him on. Helping, angling, his jaw working to the tone of her voice. Those titillating middle letters, forceful flicks upward and sideways. The shape of a crescent and a full moon at the ends, the entire lunar cycle hidden into her.

His hand stroked across her belly, a little lower, fingers spread in a hungry caress. She was so incredibly warm, body and whisper. It was the world, fluttering the heart and the blood that rushed into delirium, that thought of how he wouldn’t mind dedicating himself to her this way for all the years he’d left. His cock agreed, as if it needed any more titillating.

For the depth of his own desire, when he let out a breath it was more a moan than a sigh, released resonantly to the shape of her open cunt. Come apart to but huffs of hot air, he licked up his tongue a little harder for good measure, all the way to that swollen clitoral point. Sucked on it, to rest his tongue.
 
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 seized in small bites of pleasure, the cresting wave looming over her— relief from this delicious agony kept just out of her reach due to his clever sadism.

But the tenacious suction at her clit had her vision eventually fracturing— white pinpricks bursting behind her eyes, breath dragging high and thin with every pass of his tongue. She couldn't think, couldn't speak, the sounds of begging kept from spilling behind bared teeth.

Her fingers curled hard into his hair, anchoring herself against the wet, relentless heat of him. Her long hair, a golden halo sticking to the damp frenzy of her skin, her chest heaving as rattling pleasure began unfurling in her gut. Winding, coiling, and blooming hot, on the verge— until the world narrowed into nothing but the searing drag of his mouth.

"Fuck—" she choked, the word swallowed by a moan, her hips rolling to chase the rhythm of his mouth like a starving wolf come the hunt. "Aarno— I'm—I"

The words dissolved into a soundless, keening gasp at her slow collapse, cracking open under the weight of it, legs trembling where they kept shelter on his broad shoulders.

@Aarno
 
Come apart for me, darling.

She was making more noise, growing hotter beneath his mouth, and his cock throbbed all the harder for it, want rolling in the pit of his stomach. He palmed at her breast and ground his own hips against the softness of the bed’s edge, a beastial rumble rising from the throat.

As she trembled, he slapped his hand on her thigh and braced it forcefully against his shoulder, hungry for every twitch. Chasing them, holding breath and sure that’d it could well last the rest of the way, assured by the tone in which his name fell from her mouth.

Could he suffer to be any more smug. Though the gasp was not that different from all the rest she’d made, her cunt throbbed and for the taste and feel of it he remained, like drinking it in. Gentler touch with both hands and mouth, no longer pressing and pulling, just savouring.

“ Farren. “ He rasped betwixt her legs, so much hot air as he released her gradually. Eased up in a deeper breath, kissing and caressing the inside of her thigh, hand leaving her breast and trailing down her body. He lingered there, hovering, braced against an elbow for a moment, looking at her. The smile he wore was love-struck — dazed, fond, wrung out and yet bright as a new ember. It parted to let out a huff and he raked a hand over the side of his hair, smoothing it behind one ear. His other hand adjusted his crotch absently, righting the pale fabric about his straining erection for comfort. He felt damp now that he was out of the immediate heat of her, the chill of the draft prickling his shoulders and the back of his neck.

“ Fuck. “ The mattress bounced as he made to lean over Farren, kissing her on the lips for what felt the first time in an age. Once, twice, until a laugh broke from him, baring teeth.

“ I’m sweating like a hog. “
 
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. “But you know... we Bell Keepers don’t take too kindly to animal jokes. I’ve suffered simply one too many dog jokes in my lifetime.”

If he looked closer, the evil glint in her eye betrayed her. And, inspired by some nefarious depravity to wither the last of Aarno's nerves, her eyes began tracking the finger she ghosted along his temple. Trailing a path to the cut of his jaw, gliding over the swallow in his throat, and circling one nipple with a lazily possessive loop— her gaze flicking upward to catch his expression before continuing her descent over the strong length of his abdomen, until it traced the outline of his excitement.

Farren cupped him fully with a pleased sigh.

“Although,” she added, savoring his heat in her palm, "I can think of one or two things you could do, if you wanted to earn my forgiveness.”

She leaned in close again, grinning against his mouth. “You're lucky that I happen to be very merciful.”

And then she kissed him, tasting herself on his mouth—the thrill of it like stealing sin back from his tongue.

@Aarno
 
Stifling his snicker behind a filthy grin, he melted into her arms and gentle ministrations. The words, all jest and that sparkling tease, did little to temper the satisfied smile he’d settled into. Let alone the fondness in his look, heavy at the lids like he meant to make out some secret off her.

“ Dog jokes. “ He repeated, tone bright with disbelief. “ Were any of them at least funny, once upon a time? “ Bears doubting, as with any banality. He’d barely finished the thought when she already was seizing him anew, the soft of his stomach shuddering at the downward stroke. The silk of her fingers touching featherlight, until they no longer did.

His lips parted to let out a gust of an exhale and, instinctively, he angled his hips to press his cock further into her palm. It twitched within his braies, a hint of it blooming through a damp dot in the fabric. Made sheer with want.

“ What— “ He paused to work his tongue, faltering through a shiver. “ Things? “ Against her mouth, a mere senseless whisper as it took the lot to gird that feverish will to rock the hard of him against that daring touch.

Yet he managed, eyes drifting shut when she kissed him. Tense with anticipation, he inhaled a shallow hiss of a breath and adjusted on the support of one arm, easing to lay on one his side, by her on the bed. His free hand urged her by the wrist, to keep her touch on him.

“ Mercy, inclined as you are. “ He pleaded, more with his eyes, desperate and intense with corralled arousal, than tone that managed to keep composure. Himself and his wants be damned, he busied his hand to meander over the exposed parts of her. Down the thigh to the side, over her navel to the hollow of the ribs, sternum and finally her breast. His fingers closed around it, worked in a squeeze.

“ I’ll do anything. “

His head dipped down to lick a hot, wet line over her nipple.
 
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 her that craved to unravel him with silken claws. Gentle. Ruthless. Inevitable.

Farren arched a brow in playful warning as her fingers drifted to the ties at his waist. “Anything?” she echoed, mock incredulity, undoing them with delicious slowness. “I’d say be careful of the power you give me.”

She pulled the last string and then, in one fluid twist, she slipped her leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back, straddling him. The heat of her pressed to the flat of his stomach, her thighs bracketing him. She stared down at him, silver eyes alight with coy, burning intent.

“But I have a feeling,” she purred, “you like me greedy.”

She reached for the back of her collar and peeled the tunic up and over her head, letting it fall somewhere forgotten. Her hair spilling in golden waves, catching the lamplight like polished wheat against flushed pale skin.

Then she leaned forward, dragging her nails lightly in claiming lines up his white-dusted chest, until her palms flattened to capture either side of his throat. Her breath mingled with his, teeth nipping the edge of his chin, and her words were a velvety command.

“Now take them off, darling.”

@Aarno
 
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