“Pleasure engulfs my senses at the mere thought of touching you once more, succumbing to your love again and again until the night comes when you lay beneath me and I may come into you. I yearn to make you quake and shiver like pines in the wind the way you have done to me. Only the gods know how much I yearn for that day.”
The elf must have looked a fool right now, his legs crossing and his body wriggling about in his seat as he grew more and more flustered. Heat pooled somewhere about his chest and legs, teeth and tongue worrying his own lip as he read on, thoughts roiling to life of Vilkas keeping to his word, of their bodies together again. He imagined Vilkas wanting to take him, and gods that's what he really wanted right now. To be bound together tight and fucking like their lives depended on it. He caught unwanted stares as he drank and read on.
“But only if you would have me. For what is this hapless knight to the mer born in The god's blood? Who could have any soul he wished, unbroken by loss or untainted by curse? But this soul is yours and yours alone, have it any way you will. I can only hope I find myself by your side So long as there is a fire of love in my heart, there is a flame that fuels my blade to honor and preserve you.
Please answer this warriors wanting plea, and let me know at last if I should find myself at your side, in love, or suffer to follow your shadow until the day my heart can let go.”
The Bosmer reached for the nearest scrap of paper he could and tore into it, an inked quill scratching along feverishly. He already knew his response and he'll be damned if it doesn't get back to Vilkas as soon as possible.
It's shockingly simple, and absolutely mysterious “Eldergleam Sanctuary, Middas.”. It was a stretch to think that Vilkas could make it there on time, but he knew the Nord would try his damned hardest to get there. No, He would be there. If it was one thing the once-wolf was, it was dedicated. And words like these, gods, they don't come from a man who doesn't have true passion coursing through him like hot fire.
A bedraggled teen putted about at the bar, looking for work in the dead of this winter, giving solemn eyes to the non-gray elf that approached him. “Here, boy, I've got this letter that needs to get to The Companions in Whiterun as soon as possible. I'll pay you 100 up front and another three waits for you if the letter makes it there.”
The boy was out the door before he could properly thank him- and the Bosmer heaved a huge sigh, silently praying that it reaches Vilkas in time. That was one headache off his mind knowing that he may see him soon enough.
But there where other aches he could no longer ignore, especially tonight, right now, feeling the unyielding heat in his core demanding all of his attention. His mind wandered back to the note in his pocket, and he threw coin down on the table for another flask of wine, and the farthest room from the bar. He couldn't get there fast enough, poetry and erotic words could send him cumming in his pants and it needed to happen now.
The fire was already burning and his hands where already fighting at the catches of his armor, and the knots of leather strips. He sighs in relief feeling the bare skin of his thighs against the cool air, goosebumps on his tan flesh warmed over by the fire as he sat before it, legs spread. Uncorking the wine, he let it join the heat already pooled in his stomach which quivered with want at his own touch. He goes over the words again, eyes hooded and a free hand massaging his thigh.. he could imagine the Nord's handsome voice making love to those words while he wrote them, wishing for his company and wondering what Vilkas must be feeling for him. He couldn't shake the thought of fucking Vilkas the second he meets him, of all the wonderful things he'd love to do to him, or to have done in return.. When he started stroking himself he forgot but he was hard as a rock in his free hand, bouncing his exquisitely sensitive length in his grip before the fire.
Two Step 3
The elf must have looked a fool right now, his legs crossing and his body wriggling about in his seat as he grew more and more flustered. Heat pooled somewhere about his chest and legs, teeth and tongue worrying his own lip as he read on, thoughts roiling to life of Vilkas keeping to his word, of their bodies together again. He imagined Vilkas wanting to take him, and gods that's what he really wanted right now. To be bound together tight and fucking like their lives depended on it. He caught unwanted stares as he drank and read on.
“But only if you would have me. For what is this hapless knight to the mer born in The god's blood?
Who could have any soul he wished, unbroken by loss or untainted by curse?
But this soul is yours and yours alone, have it any way you will.
I can only hope I find myself by your side
So long as there is a fire of love in my heart,
there is a flame that fuels my blade to honor and preserve you.
Please answer this warriors wanting plea, and let me know at last if I should find myself at your side, in love, or suffer to follow your shadow until the day my heart can let go.”
The Bosmer reached for the nearest scrap of paper he could and tore into it, an inked quill scratching along feverishly. He already knew his response and he'll be damned if it doesn't get back to Vilkas as soon as possible.
It's shockingly simple, and absolutely mysterious “Eldergleam Sanctuary, Middas.”. It was a stretch to think that Vilkas could make it there on time, but he knew the Nord would try his damned hardest to get there. No, He would be there. If it was one thing the once-wolf was, it was dedicated. And words like these, gods, they don't come from a man who doesn't have true passion coursing through him like hot fire.
A bedraggled teen putted about at the bar, looking for work in the dead of this winter, giving solemn eyes to the non-gray elf that approached him. “Here, boy, I've got this letter that needs to get to The Companions in Whiterun as soon as possible. I'll pay you 100 up front and another three waits for you if the letter makes it there.”
The boy was out the door before he could properly thank him- and the Bosmer heaved a huge sigh, silently praying that it reaches Vilkas in time. That was one headache off his mind knowing that he may see him soon enough.
But there where other aches he could no longer ignore, especially tonight, right now, feeling the unyielding heat in his core demanding all of his attention. His mind wandered back to the note in his pocket, and he threw coin down on the table for another flask of wine, and the farthest room from the bar. He couldn't get there fast enough, poetry and erotic words could send him cumming in his pants and it needed to happen now.
The fire was already burning and his hands where already fighting at the catches of his armor, and the knots of leather strips. He sighs in relief feeling the bare skin of his thighs against the cool air, goosebumps on his tan flesh warmed over by the fire as he sat before it, legs spread. Uncorking the wine, he let it join the heat already pooled in his stomach which quivered with want at his own touch. He goes over the words again, eyes hooded and a free hand massaging his thigh.. he could imagine the Nord's handsome voice making love to those words while he wrote them, wishing for his company and wondering what Vilkas must be feeling for him. He couldn't shake the thought of fucking Vilkas the second he meets him, of all the wonderful things he'd love to do to him, or to have done in return.. When he started stroking himself he forgot but he was hard as a rock in his free hand, bouncing his exquisitely sensitive length in his grip before the fire.