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skyrimkinkmeme CLOSED FOR PROMPTS,
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BUT OPEN FOR FILLS
HELPFUL TIPS
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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
F!Listener/Arnbjorn "Prey" 2/5
Date: 2013-12-15 01:52 am (UTC)“You’re surprisingly compliant when you’re unconscious, Arnbjorn.” she answers simply. “Any more questions?”
“Just one,” he mutters, looking down at his bare torso. Soft furs cover his hips and legs, but he knows that he is bare beneath them. “Why am I naked?”
Her lips curl in a smirk. “How does your side feel?” she asks, completely ignoring his question.
“Better.” He’s surprised, really. The terrible pain from the jester’s cut is gone and all that is left is a thin, red mark. Even long-ignored aches from old injuries that he’d grown used to are gone.
“Good,” she says, and moves to straddle him. Her tight, leather armor creaking as she settles herself upon his hips. “Now we can decide how you’ll repay me.”
Arnbjorn sucks in a breath. "Tidbit-"
"Oh, do stop calling me that," Lumen says, narrowing her eyes at him.
He smirks at her irritation. "Sorry, Morsel. But I told you before that I'm a werewolf, and it's hard for me not to think of you as a snack."
“Then, by all means,” she grinds her hips against him, “have me.”
“No. Get off of me,” he sits up to push Lumen off of him, but his head spins so violently he feels he may lose consciousness again, and he gracelessly flops back down onto the bed.
“Ah, careful now. Your body is still fighting off the poison,” Lumen purrs, stroking her fingers across his rigid abdominal muscles. “I can give you more of the antidote, but there is a price.”
“I’m loyal to my wife,” Arnbjorn says, pushing Lumen’s hands away. “I love her.”
Lumen’s grin grows wider and more menacing. “You can keep your love,” she says, leaning over him and staring into his eyes. “I only want what lies between your legs.”
Arnbjorn's lip curls in a sneer. "I'm not interested."
"That's too bad, because I've got an urge," she drags her fingernails along the tender flesh of his recently healed cut, drawing a hiss of pain from him. "You don't know this about me, but-" her hands slide up his chest to wrap around his neck and she squeezes - not hard enough to choke, but just enough to assert her dominance. "I'm very good at acting on my urges."
Arnbjorn swallows hard, though it is difficult to do so under the pressure of Lumen’s hands. A shiver runs through him, his unease mutating into the exhilarating thrill of being chased. He says nothing to the elf, his sluggish mind trying to process the situation. His loyalty to his wife warring with his loneliness and a deep-seeded primal need.
“Oh, come on, Arnbjorn,” she says, one hand leaving his neck to tease his nipple into a hard bud. The action pulls a frustrated groan from him. “It’s only a little fun. Once we’re finished you can scurry back to Falkreath and to the safety of your forge. You know, I always thought it was odd that you preferred to bang away at your forge, rather than banging your wife.”
“Don’t talk about things you know nothing about, elf.” His scowl deepens, but there is little heat behind it. He and Astrid have been growing apart for quite a while, he cannot deny it, and shame burns within him as he seriously starts to consider Lumen’s offer. An offer which becomes more enticing when she finally releases his neck and shifts so that she’s sitting on his thighs. Her hand trailing down his stomach and dipping beneath the furs to caress his cock.
The grin she flashes him is sharper than any blade he’s ever forged, and her fingers tease up and down the length of his rapidly hardening cock. He wants to shove her away from him, but the poison still lingering in his system weakens both his body and his resolve. It doesn’t help that it’s been so long, and it’s difficult to resist when there’s a willing female shoving his legs apart and settling between them.
Arnbjorn’s breath hitches when Lumen takes the tip of his cock into her mouth. Her eyes meet his, and he notices they are the color of warm honey. But there is nothing warm in her gaze. She has the cold, calculating stare of a killer. That concession doesn’t bother him. In fact, as loathe as he is to admit it - it makes things more interesting.