The Road Less Traveled

She sighed, and retreated into the light of the tower. Bare feet padding across polished stone she’d worked hard to scrub clean over the past months. Past the walls where once there had hung artwork she could no longer bear to look at. It was an ongoing process to make this cavernous building feel like a home.

Without thinking at all, Hesperia was drawn to the man who made it such.

Rolan was where he often was these days—sequestered in their shared study. Just to look upon him filled Hesperia with warmth. Even though his back was hunched, hair a little dishevelled and frown deep, he was a beautiful sight. He was so utterly immersed that he made no indication he was aware of her presence as she approached, not until her hands came to lay on his tense shoulders.

He almost jumped out of his skin.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” Hesperia said with a smile.

Rolan swivelled his head and pressed a gentle kiss to her fingers, but otherwise barely reacted. This wasn’t like him, she thought. Yes, he could become intensely focused upon his studies, but he had never before felt this distant. 

As if sensing her disappointment, he said, “I'm sorry my love, I'm just so busy.”

Hesperia huffed. “I'm busy, too.”

“I know. I know.” A hint of frustration and more than a little sadness.

“You're working yourself too hard.”

It was a testament to how hard Rolan was pushing himself that Hesperia herself could utter those words. She’d never met anyone who worked quite as hard as herself before she’d met Rolan, except perhaps her father.

“But look at these ledgers! Lorroakan left the place in such a state…there's suppliers he never paid, and contractors that are hounding us for money we simply don't have.”

Hesperia pressed a kiss to the top of Rolan's head. Even his scent, his warmth, his presence calmed her. “The vaults aren't much better,” she admitted.

Long days and nights had taken their toll on them both, and with a sickening lurch she realised that it had been days since they had even slept in the same bed or ate a meal together. She was under no illusion that these early days of finding their footing as masters of the tower would be simple, nor their relationship resemble anything approaching domestic bliss so easily, but the time apart was taking its toll. Wrapping her arms around Rolan's neck, she held him tightly, trying to muster the courage to be vulnerable.

“I miss you,” she whispered.

Rolan finally stopped shuffling papers, turning to finally look at her. “I do, too. Truly. I just don't feel as if I can rest until all of this is dealt with. Piles of bloody paperwork, haunting me.”

Hesperia had expected nothing less from Rolan. She loved his passion, his drive, but he did have a tendency to prioritise everything but his own wellbeing.

“I'll help you, then,” Hesperia said, giving him a swat on the shoulder.

After a moment's bafflement, Rolan pushed his chair back from the desk enough for Hesperia to slip onto his lap. Even the slight contact was enough to warm her cheeks.

“Well I hardly think this is going to help,” Rolan grumbled, nevertheless pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

A woman of her word, Hesperia gathered a stack of correspondence from the desk. Rolan was right—it was a mess. Far from invoices, apparently Lorroakan had taken scribbled promises as contractual obligations. 

They sat like that for a while, reading and scribbling; Hesperia dictating what she could discern from the papers for Rolan to note in his immaculate new filing system. Dull work, only made bearable by the warmth of her love at her back, the delicately traced circle Rolan's thumb pressed against her waist.

Eventually, the comfort became a distraction.

“Two hundred gold owed to Cazador Szarr,” Hesperia muttered as her awareness of Rolan's tail pulled her gaze away.

Rolan huffed in amusement. “Well, he won't be needing that anymore.”

“Mmm, but the estate…I assume he had no heirs, but…from a legal standpoint…”

Her voice drifted off as Rolan's tail wrapped around her leg. The man himself didn't seem to be aware of the intimate gesture, or he was incredibly good at feigning innocence. Hesperia cleared her throat and turned back to the unread papers—Szarr’s debt could wait until they were more focused. The next was an itemised list of supplies that Hesperia could discern no practical use for, and that piqued curiosity managed to force another solid ten minutes of work from her, until Rolan shifted in his chair. Hesperia slid backwards, right into the crevice between his thighs (another subject that caused no end of distraction).

His grip tightened on her waist, tail contracting about her leg, so tantalisingly close to the soft flesh at their apex. A barely audible exhale caressed her right ear, and she noticed that Rolan had stopped writing, and so she repeated the last dictated item.

“Hm? Oh,” Rolan said, followed by the scratch of his pen.

Hesperia smiled to herself, dutifully carrying on their work, all the while focused on the hard planes of Rolan's body and the effect she had on him. Luckily, she had always been a gifted multitasker, and disciplined to a fault; and so too was Rolan. Even as he grew hard beneath her, pressed into her behind, they did not waver from their task.

What a fun little game they'd concocted, she thought. A smile curved her lips, and she imagined the same on Rolan's handsome face, a silent agreement that this was now a competition of wills. Judging by the state of his cock, it appeared that Hesperia had a head start.

“Mamzell Amira…oh, really?” Hesperia sighed in disgust. “Is this really an invoice for a brothel?”

Rolan chuckled, noting the exorbitant sum. On and on they went, Rolan's arousal never wavering but never escalating. All the while Hesperia's own lewd thoughts were becoming harder to ignore. How she'd much rather be bent over this very desk instead of sat toiling at it, Rolan's fist in her hair whilst he pounded into her tight, wet—

No, it wouldn't do to linger on that particular scenario. Hesperia breathed deeply, fingers idly toying with the ridges on Rolan's tail. Judging by his soft groan as she squeezed close her hand, he was enjoying it. The pleasurable sound slithered into her ear, tracing a path of heated desire right to her core. A pulse between her legs, a gentle ache as her body begged to be filled.

Hesperia gave a slight wiggle of her hips, partly for her own satisfaction and partly to tease more of those delicious noises from Rolan. She tilted forward, elbows resting upon the desk, and sighed as his cock pressed firmly where she needed it most.

“You'll be the death of me,” he muttered. “ If you will insist on this distraction, you might as well sit properly.”

Hesperia turned to find him grinning, all teeth, a delightful gleam in his eyes. 

A hand trailed up her leg, the crook of his finger beckoning the delicate fabric of her dress to follow until it pooled around her hips.

“How would you prefer me to sit?” she asked innocently.

Rolan huffed, gently teasing the hem of her underwear. “Preferably with my cock buried inside you. Take these off for me.”

Hesperia didn't hide her eagerness as she shimmied them down her legs. She’d prefer his full attention on her in their bed, but perhaps this would do.

Rolan soon followed suit, trousers shoved roughly to his knees. He sat exposed; lithely muscled thighs with a dusting of freckles, his cock finally untethered to lay heavy against his hip. Hesperia only had a moment to contemplate all the things she wished to do to him before Rolan's tail wrapped around her waist, and she was manhandled backwards. Only a cursory exploration to find her slick and willing, and suddenly his cock was inching inside her.

With a whimper, Hesperia sank into his lap. That painful ache ebbed, sheer relief flooding her body. Gods, he felt good. She shouldn't have been surprised, she knew his body intimately now; knew all the various ways he could pleasure her.

“Now stay still, we still have half a dozen of these to get through.” Rolan's stern voice cut through the haze. He was serious, after all.

“Fine,” she replied, her voice strained. She picked up the next paper and noticed her hand was shaking.

It annoyed her how calm and collected Rolan appeared. His script was as elegant as it always was, and though he kept a tight grip on Hesperia, he did not attempt anything more. She felt every ridge of him, hard and eager, temptation as she'd never known.

Her control wavered with every passing minute, blood pooling between her thighs until her body's urges were impossible to ignore. A tentative finger found her swollen nub, a shock erupting through her core at the slightest touch.

“Hesperia,” Rolan warned.

He should have known that tone would only spur her on. If she was doomed to failure, she would make sure he followed.

“I knew you would divert me,” Rolan muttered, catching Hesperia's wrist in a firm grip. 

He pinned her hand to the table, kissing apologetic kisses to her quivering shoulder.

“Rolan…”

“Only a few more minutes.”

“I can't,” Hesperia breathed.

What a fool she'd been to think she could resist him this way. Her hand pinned, the game lost, Hesperia decided all that was left was to take what she needed. What began as a gentle rocking to take the edge off only devolved into shamelessly riding his cock. Clouded by lust, their work lay forgotten, the desk's only purpose now to aid in her feral claiming of the man beneath her.

“Hesperia…,” Rolan groaned. “You promised you'd behave.”

He didn't try to stop her, however. The hand around her waist no longer held her firm, instead helping to push and pull, guiding him deeper inside with increasing urgency. 

“I can…stop…if you'd like,” Hesperia panted, timed with a roll of her hips.

She doubted the sincerity of those words the moment they left her lips. It really had been too long since they had defiled the furniture in this room. Hesperia vibrated with pent-up desire and tension from weeks of late nights spent working rather than indulging in life's pleasures. 

The answer to her suggestion was to be pushed upward with a creak and clatter of wood as Rolan's chair fell to the floor, and Hesperia was flung over the desk. She came face to face with their carefully organised accounts, hands scrabbling for purchase.

“Be careful with that,” Rolan chided, followed by a sharp slap to her behind that shunted her forward.

A thrill pulsed through her body, hips pushing back hard. She wanted—no, needed—him harder, deeper, to scream his name into their empty tower until every corner and crevice of it was scrubbed of its previous owner's influence. More than that, she craved his complete attention, and finally she thought she had it.

Hot breaths at her neck, teeth at her pulse. She arched her back and whispered—Rolan, Rolan—and her love answered with her name in the shape of a prayer, offered with unrepentant desire. A steady rhythm began that barely satiated the raging beast, but Rolan was ever so thorough in all things, her pleasure included.

The hard lines of his cock caressed her slick and sensitive core whilst his hands roamed, sweeping her hair away to trail a path of breathless kisses down her neck, teasing a peaked nipple between thumb and forefinger. Finally, he settled on gripping the base of her tail. 

“Getting a better view?” she teased.

Rolan only growled in response. Yes, then. In her periphery, she saw him intently watching where their bodies conjoined, face contorted with uninhibited lust. Fangs bared, eyes alight. Her nerves were on fire, consumed with a want only he could satisfy. Rolan stoked the flame, higher and hotter until he too was engulfed.

Hesperia felt his loss of control in the shaking of his legs, the urgency of his thrusts. He took her with wanton abandon, just as she'd craved. Face pressed into their precious work, claws dug deep into the worn wood desktop.

“Hesperia, gods—look what you—you've done to me.”

She smiled at that, at his complete loss of composure. As if she, too, wasn't a complete mess quivering beneath him.

“I've missed you,” she said again, this time choked with emotion. 

“As have I. So very much.”

Rolan found her lips through some contortion of their bodies, kissing her again and again before growing disgruntled. When he pulled his cock free, Hesperia made a small whine at the loss of him, but Rolan had no intention of leaving her wanting, guiding her to face him with all the gentleness he could muster. Deftly picking apart buttons until her dress was but a scrap of fabric to discard. His eyes blew wide at the sight of her laid bare, legs parted, chest heaving. As if perusing the morning edition of the Gazette, his eyes skimmed where his hands roamed, committing every curve to memory.

“You’re so beautiful. Gods. What have I done to deserve you?” he muttered, before planting a firm kiss upon her lips.

It was a romantic notion, that he thought himself undeserving of her, even if it was the furthest thing from the truth. Hesperia's reply was lost in his lips; instead she let out a long moan amongst a twist of tongues, made louder the moment Rolan swiftly reentered her. Legs braced tightly around his waist, heels digging into his back, she would not let him free again. Hesperia drove him deeper, until their sweat-slicked skin was flush, if only for the briefness of a chaste kiss before Rolan began his steady rhythm again.

She traced the ridges of his back, fingers tangled in his hair, tugging hard; he cupped her face with his hand like handling a precious jewel. And their tails moved as if they possessed their own needs, finding each other in the tangle of limbs. So much friction, an endless bombardment of touch. She was close to breaking, and hoped that Rolan would hold her together when she did.

“I'm going to—”

“I know,” Rolan said breathlessly, reaching a hand between them.

Fingers slid between her lips, hot and slick. The gentle strokes against her swollen clit sent an overwhelming pulse of pleasure through her core, tension winding tighter and tighter. Rolan read her like one of their myriad books, assessing every twitch of her body for the moment when he could shatter her with a command.

“Keep your eyes on me,” he said.

Not an easy task, when every brutal thrust of his cock made Hesperia's eyes roll into the back of her head. But she did—kept gazing into those beautiful golden suns with all the ferocity of their celestial counterparts. She knew she was primed, then, as her chest swelled with such affection she almost sobbed. Rolan tightened his grip on her hips, the slap of skin the only sound to fill the anticipatory silence.

Until—

“Now, let go.”

His tone twisted her stomach, and Hesperia burned; a conflagration of body and soul. She lost herself in that heady climax, clinging tight to Rolan. Riding out her orgasm with the ceaseless bucking of hips, all without averting her gaze. He came a few moments later with a guttural moan and the sharp sting of nails against the soft flesh of her thighs.

Hesperia reached down to where they joined, felt the throb of his cock as he filled her, the thick excess coating her fingers. She was dizzy, her skin burning. The feral tangle of animalistic instinct only quietened as Rolan slumped against her, leaving her full and sated.

For a while they simply breathed the stale, heated air. Affection bloomed in the scant gap between their bodies. Rolan kissed her forehead, her cheek, her lips. She returned them twice over until finally they devolved into laughter, as giddy as their first time. It was a relief, truly, to know she hadn’t lost him.

Rolan looked down at the clothes haphazardly tossed to the floor, the mess upon the desk; papers scattered and crumpled, not to mention the bodily fluids.

Surprisingly, he simply shrugged. “Oh well.”

“Such a positive outlook. A little distraction was all you needed.”

Rolan grinned, throwing a pair of lace undergarments at her. Hesperia dressed with a smile upon her face, but even in the afterglow, a faint anxiety still needled at her. But if part of her expected Rolan sat down to his work again, it was proven wrong the moment he scooped her up in his arms and marched towards their bedroom.

Depositing her on the bed, he crawled up the length of her body, pressing reverent kisses here and there until he drew level with her face.

“Thank you for reminding me there are things much more important to attend to in this tower than old books and unsettled debts.”

Dorgan steps in front of Dammon, looks up at Carixim and strongly states, "Payment first. Our deal is you give me soul coins and a recommendation." The Titan in front of him is much bigger than him, but he isn't going to let his size intimate him.

Carixim chuckles amused by his stupidity, "You will get your payment when I know he's worth it." He tilts his head towards Dammon. 

Dammon isn't sure how he can hear Carixim's voice over the many moaning souls trapped under his skin. Either his voice is booming enough to be heard over them or its psychotics. 

Dorgan steps closer to him and growls, "I'm not leaving empty handed. You might be bigger than me, but I have ways that can poison you with excruciating pain, even for one of your stature." He tilts his head further up so Carixim can see the snakes slithering from his chin, waiting to bite anything that comes nearby. They could harm even a gigantic being like Carixim.

Dammon watches the interaction closely. He knows he can determine how to approach this situation by studying how Carixim reacts. Carixim chuckles and says as he tosses Dorgan a coin, "A deal is a deal. You will receive the rest when you have brought me the agreed upon number of mortals that can actually work a forge."

Dorgan catches the coin in the air and says, "Understood." He figures he has made his point and he knows he can't push Carixim too far, too many devils would support him. Plus he would be putting himself in further danger, knowing what Carixim is capable of doing.

Dammon figures these coins are what they are calling soul coins. He can hear a faint moaning and rushing of air coming from the one tossed to Dorgan. Though, nothing compared to the souls trapped in Carixim. They must be made of souls and a type of currency for the devils here. He shudders at the implications. 

Dorgan turns and takes a few steps away, towards Dammon, before turning back around. He says, "Oh, I almost forgot the Archduchess has a message for you." 

Carixim asks with a grin, "Does she still have the portal hidden under her citadel through hallways that are almost impassable for normal mortals, because she doesn't want me using my portal to appear in her citadel?" 

Dorgan answers, "You should have more respect for her. She is Archduchess over Avernus, appointed by Asmodeus himself." 

Carixim says plainly, "All I care about is creating with infernal metals. Here, I can do that." 

Dorgan says, "She isn't afraid of you, you know?” 

Carixim grins, crosses his arms and asks, "What is the message that our oh fearless leader Archduchess Zariel has for insignificant me?" He isn't about to take the bait of talking badly about her. He knows Dorgan would run to tell her in hopes of it making him look good. He doesn't care much, it only would make his life more difficult than it already is. 

Dorgan says, "She wants you to arm the Generals first." 

He raises an eyebrow and asks, "ls that all?" 

Dorgan says, "Yes, though she doesn't seem happy with Bel's progress."

Carixim says, "Of course not. That's simple enough of an order." He pauses and continues with a grin, "Bel is much better at leading than maintaining a forge." 

Dorgan asks, "Better than Archduchess Zariel?" *Maybe Zariel would be willing to help him if he gave her some information.*

Carixim looks at Dorgan with contempt and says firmly, "You better leave before I take my soul coin back." 

Dorgan's eyes narrow and says, "I will be back with more. There is a whole city for me to scour through."

His eyes cut to Dammon and he grabs his arm roughly as he says through gritted teeth, "You better do your job well or I will..."

Dammon takes a step back, trying to avoid Dorgan's beard and trying to remain calm. As he glances at Carixim, he knows he is watching him as intently too. He takes deep breaths.

Carixim chuckles and says harshly, "He isn't yours to order around anymore. You test my patience with you and soon l'm going to throw you off this flying fortress, agreement be damned. Now GO!"

Dorgan releases Dammon's arm and grumbles, "Fine." He stomps off towards the portal they appeared through moments go, leaving Dammon alone with Carixim.

Dammon turns his attention to the Titan in front of him and he swallows hard. He waits for Carixim to say something. It's hard for him to imagine this is his life now, and that it is no longer in his control.

It was a strange period of my life, if I am being entirely honest.

Fire had always lived within me. My magic was volatile by nature, flames curled around my heartbeat as naturally as blood through my veins, and it had never troubled me. I enjoyed it, if anything. There was a simple satisfaction in coaxing a fire to life in a cold stove, in filling an empty hearth with warmth at the flick of my fingers.

And if fire escaped where it ought not, it obeyed me just as readily. A lantern overturned at the docks, a spark caught by dry timber, a careless accident threatening to become a tragedy—I could command the flames into submission until enough water arrived to finish the work.

It is as natural to me as breathing.

Unfortunately, at that age, I also possessed a temper to rival any blaze.

For the first time in my life, I was truly free.

I had coin in my purse, no one watching over my shoulder, and a city sprawling endlessly before me. I indulged enthusiastically in all of it: good food, good wine, and whatever delightful company my gold could purchase. Freedom suited me perhaps a little too well.

It made me arrogant.

I knew I was powerful, and worse, I enjoyed knowing it.

So when someone wronged me, when they mistook politeness for encouragement and persisted after being told no, my patience often ran short. My anger flared quickly, and occasionally quite literally. Nothing serious, mind you. Usually. A scorched sleeve. A blistered hand. A brief lesson delivered through skin made uncomfortably aware of just how hot a sorceress could become when irritated.

I am not proud of it.

At least, not anymore.

And then there was the house.

To this day, I maintain that burning down an entire residence was a somewhat disproportionate response to the circumstances.

Still, it was a glorious night.

Also, if you're reading my stuff for the first time: Nimriel is not having her cake and eating it, too xD The events in the fics take place in parallel universes. 😅 I am calling it "the perils of having one OC and wanting to give her the best life. 🫡

"I thanked you once already. Don't be greedy," Rolan slurred, his wine-filled tankard swaying uncontrollably.

Tav looked the tiefling over: clearly drunk, his smug, arrogant expression reaching its apotheosis. His features were sharp as a blood-dipped knife in the half-lit hall. Smile so beautiful yet wolfish, as if ready to sink the sharp fangs into your flesh. And the eyes - burning, playful, inviting even. Tav could swear he checked her out just now, gaze slithering hungrily up and down her body.

And once she caught the tiefling staring, he was aware of it, too. But Rolan was not sorry about it in the slightest. His amber eyes narrowed dangerously, smirk transformed into a challenging grin. The wine must have knocked all sense of decency out of him. Good. Letting go of his ever-controlled, strict demeanor made Rolan entirely irresistible.

The tiefling's brow surged up, questioning, waiting for her to say something. Or, rather, DO anything about it.

"Just thirsty," Tav drawled, letting her legs carry her impossibly close to Rolan.

The tiefling didn't react, unaware of how atypical he acted, driven purely by his unspoken desires.

"Who am I to deny the needy?" Rolan chuckled. The wizard made another sip and passed the tankard to his midnight guest.

Her gaze would not leave his, even as she gulped the wine. But she didn't swallow the whole of it. After all, Tav was not the only one whose thirst must be quenched.

The tankard was quickly set onto the counter, forgotten about for the rest of the night.

Tav leaped to him as swiftly as a hunting cat spotting its prey. Rolan's mouth parted in a surprised gasp, and her lips crashed onto his in an instant. She poured the wine into him, but the tiefling was more eager to devour her tongue than taste the drink.

The violent need for closeness has overtaken them, and both welcomed it ardently.

Rolan grabbed Tav's hips, aligning their bodies as if they were shaped to fit each other perfectly. Scorching, tight, ravenous. The wizard's kisses grew reckless and demanding, and she reciprocated with no protest. Time stopped as the couple suffocated each other in want, until the need to grasp for air parted them.

"Was it too greedy for you?" Tav teased, hands finding their place on the tiefling's chest. She bit his lower lip, licking a stray drop of wine left behind, "I am still thirsty."

A feral glint settled in Rolan's eyes, "Drink me then. Be as greedy as you want," he breathed, barely finishing the sentence before pressing his lips into hers.

Unable to hide her arousal any longer, Tav pulled Rolan close until there was no space left between them. His body ran hot like fire of the Nine Hells, and she couldn't wait to get burned in his embrace. Even through their clothes, she felt how hard he was, the relentless friction dragging a raw, shameless moan from her mouth.

The realization sent shivers down the tiefling's spine, his grounding against Tav turning more agile.

"You enjoying it that much?" Rolan hummed, his tongue trailing a taunting path from her lips down her neck, "Can't imagine what sweet sounds that pretty mouth would make if I were inside."

The sensation of his sharp teeth against her pulse was overwhelming. She wanted Rolan to tease her. Take her. Ruin her.

"Why imagine if you can find out?" Tav questioned in ragged breaths.

The tiefling's burning eyes surged up to meet hers. Just for a short moment, Rolan seemed to finally sober up. The disbelief on his face looked incredibly charming - Tav couldn't help but chuckle gently. Taking advantage of his dazed state, she rubbed against him, making her own pulsating arousal known.

"Please, Rolan, be generous with me tonight," Tav purred, pressing soft kisses to his jaw.

The wizard huffed, drunken confidence making a quick return. But now, it was laced with something desperate yet grateful. Mere hours ago, Rolan was a man who seemingly lost it all. And now, he was about to ravish in the one thing he hadn't dared hope for: Tav. So warm. So perfect.

"You have no idea-," he said slowly, tugging at her shirt, trying to hold onto the remains of composure, "what you are doing to me."

But she knew, and she wanted him to indulge. Her deep, tender kiss was the only answer Tav gave.

Whatever restraint he had was shattered in the next breath. Her clothes were stripped away in a blur of motions, each piece discarded carelessly to the floor. The tiefling leaned her against the bar table, his eyes taking in every inch of her bare body. Speechless and fog-brained, he reached out, trailing his hand from her neck down to her stomach. The motion was achingly slow and gentle, as if Rolan was afraid to miss any part of her. Every curve, freckle, and scar melted under the adoration of his fingers, making Tav arch closer.

Feeling her body so trembling and needy under his touch brought a smirk to his face, "Come to think of it, I feel particularly generous tonight," the tiefling hissed, placing his palms on her hips, brushing his thumbs against her skin in tentative circles.

The wizard's little trick did wonders - Tav spread for him with ease, her inviting gaze made him crush his hips between her legs in a rushed, magnetic pull.

She rubbed her silk against his aching flesh, the hard outline of him so obvious now that no fabric could hide it.

"You sure take your sweet time," Tav murmured.

"I just enjoy you begging for it," Rolan groaned softly, feeling the burning friction between them, "But if you want me to be generous, allow me to indulge, too," his head leaned forward, nose brushing her taut nipple before his mouth closed over it.

As his hand nestled on her other breast, giving it no less attention, Tav was swept by the thunderstorm of his affection. Gasping brokenly, she tangled her fingers into the tiefling's hair, urging him closer. Rolan's generosity knew no bounds as he savoured her with worshipful bites, laps, and kisses.

"No wine in the realm comes close to tasting this refined," Rolan murmured, his tongue teasing her peak, before leaving a purple lovebite next to it.

But before he could lavish her further, muffled voices rose from upstairs. The lovers exchanged glances, realization hitting them. The Harpers. On the night rounds, probably.

Tav thought fast, silently pointing Rolan to the door next to the bar table. The wizard nodded and carefully guided her towards the room, his hand curling around her waist possessively, disregarding the urgency of the situation.

Thankfully for the couple, the small room wasn't occupied. They found themselves in complete darkness, the window in the far corner being the only faint source of light.

Silence hung between them. Tav pressed her ear to the door, trying to catch what was going on in the common room. Rolan, however, had no care in the world. Except for one.

Moments later, she felt his breath against her spine as the tiefling whispered, "Even in complete darkness, you look no less alluring." 

Rolan leaned into Tav, pressing small kisses to her shoulders. The realization that he was now completely naked coaxed a small moan out of her mouth.

The wizard's many ridges pricked her ever so slightly, sending pleasant tingling to Tav's most sensitive, aching parts. His erection, hot and pulsating, drew provocative images in her mind. But Rolan didn't rush, gliding his cock rhythmically against her inner thighs. One of his hands found her breast, the other slid between her legs. Slowly, he began caressing her sensitive bud, his careful thumb teasing it into electrifying shivers.

"Rolan, easy," Tav pleaded a little louder than she meant to, but her hips betrayed her, circling around his fingers, eager for more friction.

Satisfied, he snickered, "Everyone's favorite hero scared to be discovered in such an undignified position?" the tiefling hissed into her ear, his lisp getting out of control.

The tiefling's strokes suddenly quickened, and her body responded immediately: arching, whimpering, demanding.

"You are such a prick," she whispered in response, her words mixed in with lewd groans, "If we get caught, our night is over."

"Oh, I don't think so," Rolan leaned forward, biting at her earlobe, "I have my own theory about it."

Tav's hand reached behind her, holding his head close to her ear - his ragged breathing was driving her mad with lust, "Let's hear it."

The quiet, menacing laugh the wizard let out made her heart quiver in anticipation.

"You are so wet for me already," Rolan rasped against her ear. The pace of his fingers slowed again as he taunted her, "Even if we are to be discovered, I don't think you would want me to stop. Maybe you will even let them watch if it means you still get to feel my cock inside of you."

Hearing such raw confessions coming from the wizard - a scholar in his craft, so well-read and arrogant - sent Tav into a frenzy. She twisted her hips impatiently, but Rolan's fingers wouldn't resume their quick moves, keeping the strokes painfully light.

"Oh, you are greedy," he scoffed playfully, although she could feel his core twitching impatiently against her thighs, "I thought you wanted me to stop being a prick and keep it quiet and decent. Am I wrong?"

Tav leaned in even closer into his hungry embrace, faltering, "I asked you to be generous. So yes, you are wrong."

The tiefling chuckled, groping the curves of her breast, "I am never wrong."

And when his fingers immediately stroked her at an even faster pace, Tav rasped shamelessly, slamming her palms against the door.

"Rolan," she whimpered, driving her hips into him, angling herself just right so his length dragged along her soaked folds.

The tiefling groaned, his hands entwining her body as he began grinding against her wetness.

"Louder," Rolan hissed, her affection twisting his mind harder than wine, "Let them all hear who finally made you discard your armor," he teased, sucking the sensitive skin of her neck. His hands were now back to fondling her breasts, digging into every swell possessively. The grinding grew more intense with each passing second, flaring from her sharp, demanding moans mixed in with his name. And Rolan drank every moment of it.

Finally, Tav snapped, turning around and catching his breathless mouth with hers. Their kiss was deep, hungrier than any touch or gasp they shared tonight. Their eyes met despite the darkness as they parted.

"Please," Tav whispered softly, her intent unmistakable as she moved his hands down to her hips. Her gentle plea undid Rolan completely, but he made sure to cover it as smoothly as he could.

"What a polite perfection," the tiefling replied, swiftly sweeping Tav off her feet, lifting her with ease. To her surprise, he carried her quickly to the room's window.

Rolan set her onto the windowsill, pausing at the irresistible beauty of Tav once the moonlight hit her. And she watched him too, lips parting involuntarily: bare and trembling, Rolan looked so raw, so unguarded. A rare tulip in the vast field of dandelions.

He smirked, noticing how Tav explored him. Silent, breathing huskily, he stepped in between her parted legs, rubbing his burning length against the cooling feel of her wet silk.

"Are you trying to be original when the bed is right there?" Tav teased in a broken hum, her hands slid at his ridged sides to draw him closer.

Rolan glanced at her as if the answer was obvious, "I want to see you."

He held her gaze for a solid moment, so sincere and soft in the silver light of the moon.

"I want to see how you enjoy yourself-," Rolan continued as he aligned himself against her entrance, making Tav gasp in anticipation, "-your lips trembling when you sing those sweet moans for me-," he huffed, thrusting into her slowly, letting her feel every inch of his hot, twitching passion, "-and your body falling apart the moment you become mine," Rolan groaned, filling her up completely.

Tav responded with a gasp that was no less aching. Her hands shot up, pulling him into another scorching kiss. His thrusts, rhythmic and slow at first, quickly grew ragged and deep. Her heat, her yearning tongue, the way she was looking at him all this time, smothered Rolan with worshipful need.

They were kissing sloppily, mouths completely uncoordinated, consumed by lustful moans.

"You are relentless," Tav confessed breathlessly, biting at his jaw, as Rolan hit the perfect spot.

"You have no idea," he smirked, burrowing his cock deeper, compelling her to scream his name. Harpers would definitely hear her if they remained in the common room. But Rolan didn't care if the whole inn found out. They can whisper and rumor all they want. Only he gets to feel how her walls tighten around his length, only he can make her yell so wantonly.

"Louder," he demanded, lifting Tav up with ease, his thrusts maddeningly fast. She wrapped her legs around him, their bodies gliding against each other, chasing one wave of pleasure after the next.

"Rolan, I-," she stuttered as he pushed harder. Tav's hips began to move on their own, trying to match his pace, her squirming unashamed and erratic. They rode each other as if possessed, their names tumbling from their lips.

"You feel incredible," Rolan groaned, clinging tighter to her, "So warm, so tight... I can't hold back much longer."

"Don't fight it," Tav purred, "I am close, too."

Her words made his thrusts desperate and raw. Rolan's eyes locked on hers immediately, "Come for me, before we both succumb to madness."

Rolan's rasping plea drove Tav into a spiraling orgasm, as she whimpered his name one last time. Her lover followed, spilling into her without stopping his thrusts, claiming her for himself.

The room grew silent again, filled only with their painful gasps for air. Despite it all, they could not stop looking at each other, eyes filled with lust and something beyond - adoration and fragile gratitude.

Finally, Rolan moved, placing them both onto an old, small bed in the corner. They held each other close, without bothering to pull apart as the tantalizing aftershocks of their union still lasted.

Tav gently brushed a stray lock of his hair behind his ear, marveling at how gorgeous Rolan looked when he was finally at peace. 

"Now that you saw me falling apart, want to try out the old-fashioned bed?" she teased.

Her fingers running over her lips in contemplation, the way her movements simply glide through a space.

​

If only my mouth could match the way I feel... 

"Buy Something or leave. We don't need any loiterers." As soon as Rolan said it and your eyes met his, he was kicking himself.

​

Of course, you just smile,"I'm sorry, Ro. I promise to buy something after my lessons today. "

​

Ah, yes, your lessons . That's why you've come by; it's not that you're not a loyal customer, but that you have even more of a reason to come around. Not that he's complaining, just more opportunity to make an ass out of himself.

​

Rolan tries to look busy as he reshelves some tomes while staying close to your side. "How has learning infernal been going for you?"

​

You do that tail curling pout of your lip, almost as if you're guilty of something. "It's been going alright, I just need to study more."

​

Of course, you should be studying more. If you had asked Rolan to teach you, he would have given you so much to study and read that you would be fluent by now.

​

“Tmyh wmafdv qujy haf wapyzmulq za ryiv... “ (They should give you something to read... )

​

“zmyh vory zrhulq zmyur kywz” (they are trying their best). Rolan holds back his laugh at your rusty, unpolished infernal, but can't hold back his smile. 

“voryl'z haf erytuafw” (aren't you precious ). He didn't mean to let it slip, but judging by the look on your face, you didn't have a clue. Thank the gods.

​

Before you can ask what he said, Lia is rushing down to gather you for your lessons. Lia shoves past Rolan, making sure to give him a playful bump before grabbing your hand.

​

"Rolan, stop bothering our student. We have a busy day ahead of us."

​

He can't help but roll his eyes, "Yes, drinking tea and gossiping before learning a little infernal does take quite some time.”

​

Lia jabs his shoulder, "We have been teaching more than that. Just because we don't run a boot camp like you do doesn't mean it's not working.”

​

You pause at the foot of the stairs, gripping your hands onto the railing tightly, "If you wanted, you could join us?"

​

The slight redness in your cheeks wasn't lost on Rolan; it was like you were embarrassed to even ask. Teaching you, helping you, it sounds like a perfect day... "Though I think you would benefit from it, I can't. I have to go to the market.”

​

You looked disappointed before quickly masking it with that chipper smile of yours that makes his chest twist. “Well another time then…” 

Rolan cursed himself as he watched you head up the stairs. Why must he always say the opposite of what he wants? 

He looks down at his journal, it has it all, everything he wants to say to you written down in his native tongue. When he writes it’s so easy to just get all his thoughts off his chest. How you enchanted him, how the scent of your perfume makes his heart swell when he catches whiffs of it lingering in the air, and how he so badly wants to be the one spending so much time teaching you, getting closer to you… 

Rolan signs before snapping his fingers and blipping his journal back to its rightful place. One day maybe he will get the courage, but not today. 

​

​

The market is always a headache, but it's a necessary one. How else are they supposed to have any supplies? Bags in hand, he walks up the steps to the tower: It's been a few hours now, so he's sure you have left, but that doesn't stop him from hoping just a bit to see you before you go.

​

But as he reaches the top of the stairs, he only sees Cal and Lia pacing nervously. From the second their eyes met, he instantly knew they were guilty of something. 

​

He sighs as he puts the bags down "Alright, what did you two troglodytes break?" 

Both immediately tried to talk, in a confusing, bombarded manner, about parts of the story and multiple apologies. 

​

It’s enough of their crowding and rambling that leaves his ears ringing, finally Rolan has had enough. "Silence, you two! Just tell me, calmly.”

​

Lia and Cal look at each other, seeming to draw mental straws, til finally Lia relents with an exasperated sigh. "Alright, but you have to swear not to get upset ... "

​

Rolan rolls his eyes , "Upset? What exactly - "

​

Lia’s sharp nail comes close to his nose as she holds up her finger to silence him. "Just promise."

​

He relents, "Alright, I will remain composed, but if you keep me with bated breath, I will lose it."

​

"Well, we had lessons with Tav today, and towards the end she asked if she could take home a book written in Infernal. Well, as you know, that can be limited, so we were helping her look. Then she found one, and we didn't think anything of it ... until we looked over at your desk later... "

​

Rolan feels his blood run "You're not saying…”

​

Cal's voice is pleading,"We think she took your diary! "

​

Normally, Rolan would be snapping that it's a journal, not a diary... but the news has his whole body frozen. Then he nods with an eerie calm hum.

​

"Rolan, you okay?" Rolan's, unsure who had even asked the question, as he turned back towards the stairs, then, in a blink, he was running down them.

​

Cal and Lia look at each other before Cal smiles, "Well, his reaction could have been worse."

​

​

Rolan can only hope that by some miracle you haven't read his secret desires. If you haven't, it will be simple enough to just take it back, but if you have read it, this could uproot everything.

​

Rolan urges his feet to move faster over the cobblestone, ignoring how he almost trips and falls. Finally, down your street, he slides as he comes to your front door. Before he can think better of it, he rushes up your steps and knocks feverishly on your door.

​

As soon as he sees you open the door with that shocked look on your face, he feels that familiar stirring in his gut. Then he sees his journal in your hand, and his heart sinks. He is breathing heavily and knows that the look on his face is pleading, "Did you understand it? "

​

Red fills your cheeks as you nod, “Majority of it … enough to get the gist.”

​

Great, this is even worse than he thought … What should he do? What should he say… Swallowing down his pride, he averts his gaze, "I'm So-"

​

He feels himself pulled forward by his collar. Before he can ask he feels your lips on his. As soon as it happened, that moment of bliss was over as you pulled away. Rolan watches as your own panic fills your eyes, your lips forming words of 'sorry,' but he can't hear it over his racing heartbeat.

​

It's the rush, the quick spur of the moment and their blood rushing with adrenaline, Rolan’s mind tries to reason, but as always, he betrays his thoughts with his actions. Rolan keeps his eyes on yours as he walks through the threshold of your door. Your beautiful eyes widen as he steps towards you, and when his hand touches your face, you practically melt for him becoming a puddle of want as his lips softly brush over yours again and again.

​

"I should've told you sooner.” He says, before caressing his hands down your back and taking in the scent of your neck.

​

"Tell me now ."

​

More of a whine than a demand, it still has its tail and ears twitching. He betrays himself by giggling, "Didn't you read it?"

​

You breathe into his ear, and he feels himself moan, "But I want to hear it."

​

Rolan, for a moment, doesn't get it ... till he feels your teeth on his neck and you mutter, “Pdyiwy” (Please)

So he lets out a shaky sigh as he peppers your skin not only with the caresses of his kiss but with the warmth of his words.

​

“Yaf mijy miflzyv ph yjyrh zmafqmz orap zmy vih xe pyz haf ul zmiz mydd ao xe qrajy” ( You have haunted my every thought from the day I met you in that hell of a grove.)

As he feels your body tremble and your heart race even hotter he growls in your ear, his voice heavy and dark. Rolan smiles, watching the goose bumps roll over your skin. "Nas edyiwy. dyz py xe'jy afz ph yjyrh vywury al haf…” (Now please. let me live out my every desire on you... )

​

He's unsure if you even understand these words, but his want must somehow translate and match yours. Rolan tries to say more, but every infernal growl is stifled by heated lips and desperate hands. It's udder bliss that has him just falling into your lead. That utter bliss lands him in your bed.

​

Rolan chuckles as you stand before him, sheading your clothes. He leans up on his elbows, feeling himself twitch as your soft skin is slowly revealed to him. “nyyvh vory sy?" ("Needy are we?")

​

Grinning, you position yourself on top of him, beginning to undo his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours.

​

“Xe safdv wih qryyvh..”  ("I would say greedy.. ")

​

With those words, it clicks that you have been doing extra studies.... Gods, you're mesmerizing …

Straddling over him with hooded eyes. Rolan couldn't help but roam his eyes all over your body. He wanted to burn this image in his mind to hold onto forever. Then he felt his whole body twitch as your soft hand grasped his cock, working him, teasing him till his tail was thumping and sweet started to bead against his brow. Part of him thought this must be torture for how hard he was on you during certain lessons... but your face, you were totally amazed by watching his arousal grow harder and harder.

​

Then you pressed yourself against him, and his eyes widened as you slowly eased his textured girth inside you. Rolan felt his nails shredding into your sheets as he mentally prayed for this to last forever. You moved your hips slowly, your face close to his, stealing kisses from his softly panting breath. But then your hips started rolling over him faster and faster till his nails were digging into your soft flesh and his lips caressed your slick skin.

​

Your skin is cool against his, and he can feel your pulse racing as he kisses your neck and rocks you against him harder and harder. The sensual sounds of his cock filling your slick pussy fill the room as he fucks into you. As he growls in your ear, he feels your pussy pulse against him.

​

You can barely think as he fills and stretches you as far as you can go. You start to feel your legs start to tremble, that overwhelming feeling of him nudging against your G-spot. It was an insanely euphoric feeling being so full, you just can't help but whine.

​

Everything about you drives him crazy, but hearing you whine and watching how your body shudders with every bounce on his cock. He squeezes as his cock throbs inside you, and as your cunt is fluttering around him, you feel your body shake as the pleasure rushes over you, and your mind hazes as you feel him spill inside you.

​

As you're coming down, you slide down and settle yourself beside Rolan and take in his warmth as you feel yourself slowly coming down from your high .

​

“Yafr wa dajydh... “ (You're so lovely ... ), he brings his hand to your cheek, gently brushing back your hair. 

You're the one giggling and before he knows it you're pushing his journal into his hands, he looks at you confused and that's when you nug him on. “Go on, read me the ones I missed…”