His answer came in the form of her reaching up and pulling the simple ribbons that held her braids in place, the way they fluttered to the ground, the loose waves that flowed over her shoulders just the way he liked it, when he had first seen her in Windpeak Inn.
The woman of his dreams was coming towards him, wreathed in the light of flames and with desire written in every line of her body. Erandur was ecstatic. Erandur was also terrified. He had no experience and he was quite sure from Aesa’s bold manner that he was not her first. The realisation might have made him jealous, if he was not so sure that his knees were going to be quaking in a minute.
And that was before she began peeling her armour away. “Oh Mara,” he mumbled, inhaling deeply, tearing his eyes from her before looking again as she dropped her gauntlets to the ground, quick fingers unbuckling the belt and unknotting ties that held the rest of her gear in place. When she leaned over to strip off her boots, he became the recipient of a generous display of her rounded tops of her breasts and his mouth went dry.
He could not. He had sworn to eschew pleasures. This was surely a test. Then Aesa straightened and he could see how little the thin shirt hid from his sight. Her soft cotton breeches clung to her hips and legs. Erandur did not know if he groaned aloud or if it was all in his head but somehow, he found the strength to back up a few steps. Aesa was either daft as to his desire to be as far away from her as possible, or she was just going to ignore him. Since she was far from stupid, based on what he knew, he decided that it was a case of the latter. “You have to stop,” he rasped, hating that he sounded so weak, so needy. “I swore an oath.”
“That you did,” she concurred gently. “But you’ve done your penance. And I think you’ve suffered enough for a whole day.” The corner of her beautiful lips turned up in a mischievous half-smile that bloomed into a full one as his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Suffered?”
“I heard you. In the library. I was awake before you realised it.”
For a moment, it felt as thought he would burst into flames, so hot was the blush that it seemed to suffuse his entire face and being. If Mara was the wonderful goddess he thought she was, she would command the earth to swallow him up now. But since no such reprieve occurred, Erandur did the next best thing he could think of.
With a composure he did not know he had, he drew his robes around him and stood his ground. “I do not need your charity,” he said haughtily, impressing even himself. Years ago, he had encountered some Thalmor and he doubted that even they could have sounded more stuck-up. Aesa’s eyes widened in shock and the fingers toying with the ties on her shirt stilled. Satisfied that he had put a halt to her advances and yet hating himself for so many reasons that he did not think he could count them, Erandur made his first and only mistake that evening.
He turned his back on the Dragonborn.
When she tackled him, he went flying face first into the ground. Before he could recover himself, he found himself bodily hauled across the ground until he was unceremoniously dumped on her bedroll. He would have leapt to his feet. If her hand had not found its way to his groin first.
His groan shattered the silence and Erandur arched, lifting his hips even as she dropped down to sit astride him, her clever fingers squeezing and massaging the hard ridge of his erection. He put up a hand, conceivably to push her off but she seized it and brought it to her lips. “Does this feel like charity?” she murmured as she touched her tongue to his palm, licking hard at the centre and setting his nerve endings on fire. “Or this?” She took the same hand and pressed his damp palm to her breast.
“Oh gods…” His breath hitched in mid-oath and the feel of her softness, of the body that he yearned to hold was enough to drive all thoughts of his oath from his mind. He gripped, he clutched, they both moaned as he palmed her swelling breast and felt the hardened nipple rub against his sensitised skin. “I have never…”
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timeasmymeasure
Re: What Dreams May Come 4/
Date: 2013-01-28 06:47 pm (UTC)The woman of his dreams was coming towards him, wreathed in the light of flames and with desire written in every line of her body. Erandur was ecstatic. Erandur was also terrified. He had no experience and he was quite sure from Aesa’s bold manner that he was not her first. The realisation might have made him jealous, if he was not so sure that his knees were going to be quaking in a minute.
And that was before she began peeling her armour away. “Oh Mara,” he mumbled, inhaling deeply, tearing his eyes from her before looking again as she dropped her gauntlets to the ground, quick fingers unbuckling the belt and unknotting ties that held the rest of her gear in place. When she leaned over to strip off her boots, he became the recipient of a generous display of her rounded tops of her breasts and his mouth went dry.
He could not. He had sworn to eschew pleasures. This was surely a test. Then Aesa straightened and he could see how little the thin shirt hid from his sight. Her soft cotton breeches clung to her hips and legs. Erandur did not know if he groaned aloud or if it was all in his head but somehow, he found the strength to back up a few steps. Aesa was either daft as to his desire to be as far away from her as possible, or she was just going to ignore him. Since she was far from stupid, based on what he knew, he decided that it was a case of the latter. “You have to stop,” he rasped, hating that he sounded so weak, so needy. “I swore an oath.”
“That you did,” she concurred gently. “But you’ve done your penance. And I think you’ve suffered enough for a whole day.” The corner of her beautiful lips turned up in a mischievous half-smile that bloomed into a full one as his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Suffered?”
“I heard you. In the library. I was awake before you realised it.”
For a moment, it felt as thought he would burst into flames, so hot was the blush that it seemed to suffuse his entire face and being. If Mara was the wonderful goddess he thought she was, she would command the earth to swallow him up now. But since no such reprieve occurred, Erandur did the next best thing he could think of.
With a composure he did not know he had, he drew his robes around him and stood his ground. “I do not need your charity,” he said haughtily, impressing even himself. Years ago, he had encountered some Thalmor and he doubted that even they could have sounded more stuck-up. Aesa’s eyes widened in shock and the fingers toying with the ties on her shirt stilled. Satisfied that he had put a halt to her advances and yet hating himself for so many reasons that he did not think he could count them, Erandur made his first and only mistake that evening.
He turned his back on the Dragonborn.
When she tackled him, he went flying face first into the ground. Before he could recover himself, he found himself bodily hauled across the ground until he was unceremoniously dumped on her bedroll. He would have leapt to his feet. If her hand had not found its way to his groin first.
His groan shattered the silence and Erandur arched, lifting his hips even as she dropped down to sit astride him, her clever fingers squeezing and massaging the hard ridge of his erection. He put up a hand, conceivably to push her off but she seized it and brought it to her lips. “Does this feel like charity?” she murmured as she touched her tongue to his palm, licking hard at the centre and setting his nerve endings on fire. “Or this?” She took the same hand and pressed his damp palm to her breast.
“Oh gods…” His breath hitched in mid-oath and the feel of her softness, of the body that he yearned to hold was enough to drive all thoughts of his oath from his mind. He gripped, he clutched, they both moaned as he palmed her swelling breast and felt the hardened nipple rub against his sensitised skin. “I have never…”