#dwarrowdam x reader

You were roused from your nightly camp chores when Bilbo came over to you. His gait exagferatedly chalant but he scrubbed at his hair nervously. “Master Baggins? Is something the matter?”

“Uh no! Or yes- maybe. Perhaps.” He sat down beside you with a twitching nose. “Tell me: what is your relationship with Lady Dís?”

Intrigued now you set aside your work. Leaning to catch a better look on his face. “Dís and I? Well, I do not know if we are friends but I would like us to be.” You explained with a shrug. “You know, the older two seem to be a bit more private than Fíli and Kíli. All fine and well but sometimes it is hard to tell how they think of you.”

He nods his arms crossing. That was certainly true. But it didn't change the shocked look on his face nor add color back to his cheeks.

“Bilbo.” You prompted, “what is the matter?”

Scrambling for his pipe he took a few puffs looking incredibly uncomfortable as he wags the pipe at you. “This doesn't leave our company. Understand?”

“Of course. You can tell me anything, now what is on your mind?” You figured perhaps Dís had tried to either dissuade or persuade the hobbit into pursuing his feelings for her brother.

But nothing prepared you for what came out of Bilbos mouth. “I accidentally stumbled upon la- dí- her.” He swallows shakingly turning several shades of red. “In a uh certain circumstance.” 

Your brow arches. “Listen, Bilbo. The woods aren't as big as they look. We all have run into each other going to the bathroo-”

“She was saying your name!” He gushed out right before he shoved the pipe back into his mouth. Massive frantic puffs began.

Your brain stuttered to a hault. That wasn't an accidental bathroom fumble. Crossing your arms you process the information you were and weren't getting. 

Yet as you sat upon the ground you could see how all these things culminated. Culminate in a way quite different than you expected. 

Had you hoped for Dís affection? Yes. But you hadn't expected it to come. Like a leaf departing from its branch hurtling towards the ground, unknowing what would happen upon its collision. 

Shaking your head, you pat his shoulder gently. “Thank you, but I am certain you misheard.”

He relaxes beneath your reassurance and the pat to his small shoulder. “Well, perhaps I did. In any case! We should uh help with dinner.” Bilbo suggested doing a proverbial heel turn before he has to dwell further on his predicament. 

“Of course,” you agree standing slowly. “Why don't you go ahead and help Thorin organize roles.” Your cheeky suggestion lands solidly, bilbos face scrunching instantly. Hand on your chin you watch him begin grumbling about that ‘stubborn’ and ‘ regretful’ dwarf. Not missing how his cheeks were once more tinting pink just like carnation petals unfurling from their buds. 

But as he begins walking towards camp you part ways. Only stopping when Bilbo calls your name in soft confusion. “Where are you going?”

 Grinning Wryly you thumb towards the direction Bilbo had stumbled from. Deep into the inky violet woods. “Why, we have a missing princess, don't we? Don't worry, I'm sure she's frolicking in some flowers and making woodland animal friends.” 

Bilbos face continues twisting in discomfort. “But you- you can't go alo- oh!! oh? Oh…” Realization grows upon the hobbit and he begins twisting his hands. Mouth pursing in a circular ghastly ‘oh’. 

Waving him off with a flick of your wrist you surpress a giggle. “Shoo, master burglar. Shoo! To your dwarf.”

He began walking but your words stop him, spinning he retorts abruptly. “My dwarf?!”

“mhm!!” You leave him bewildered and perhaps a bit flustered in the clearing. Plunging deep into the late spring forest. But as you venture further you are innately aware you were not a hunter. That made this far more enjoyable. No doubt you'd find her doing some mundane task. Her tracks covered completely.

It's there you find her, filling her waterskin. Her head doesn't even turn when she calls to you. “Did you need something.”

Haunting by her side you study her clothes finding the only dishevelment was a cluster of burrs upon her cloak. “Mm no but you need me.” You remark, enjoying how she froze for a split second. Body stiffening before a look of confusion crosses her face morphing into a scowl. “Pardon?”

“Hold still.” Plucking the burrs, the middle of her cloak rises and falls with every spiny removal.  Your face falls to tenderness observing how her shoulders rise and fall. Her thick dark hair was bound in a braid for the evening, but stray strands had fallen loose. Giving you a hint that your assumption of what Bilbo had seen was true. 

Tilting your head you gaze transfixed upon her back, eyes trailing like vines up her braid. Along the plane of her neck.

“Are you quite finished?” Her voice snaps you from your enchantment.

“Mmm, are you?” Before you can think otherwise you lean against her back, whispering into the air near her ear. “Master Baggins said you needed my help.” Her body returned to stone for uncountable seconds. Your hand rests upon her upper arm, giving the thick muscle a soft squeeze. “Now was he mistaken?”

“He was not. Is that going to be a problem?”

“Is it wrong, that I want to know more? What were you thinking about?” You cannot resist leaning fully against her back. Pressing yourself along her expanse of muscle, your eyes sliding closed while you memorize the moment. “Did you think about me upon you? Beneath you?”

Both? Was it both? Oh you hoped. Even now you could imagine her face twisting in pleasure just as her finger swirled within her. Your name panting from her lips as she conjured you in her mind. Building your form as she creates her pleasure. 

With ease she turns, her hands capture your chin keeping your eyes mingling together. A mixture of Trepidation and amusement fill her bright eyes. “Hmm how shall I deal with the hobbit? Mind, I am not ashamed but perhaps he should understand when it is best not to share gossip.”

Snorting your eyes roll. “Unless he is sharing it with you. You two gossip like old Hobbits over tea.” Trailing your hands down her shoulders you loop your thumbs into her leather belt. Returning to live in her eyes. Ignoring any fear of being discovered. If Thorin was smitten over a hobbit you could be with her. Unconsciously your head tilts, “should we provide them with ample fodder for conversation?” You inquire brows rising in askance.

“Should we? Mm do they deserve it?” Her thumb rises upon your face, stroking along your lower lip where her eyes remain transfixed.

“You deserve it.” You countered tilting your head placing a reverent kiss upon her thumb.

You weren't expecting her to kiss you. But she does.  With every brush of your lips you're reminded of the soft moments shared between the two of you. Of her hair brushing against your face when the wind picked up during your hike. 

Dís sharing her water with you and in turn you shared berries with her. Ignoring as best you could how they stained her lips and fingertips. Your stomach flipping when she grinned wryly, brushing by you with a pleasantness you thought reserved for summer breezes. 

Everytime she made a confident side comment or provided dry commentary on this mission she had cemented a place in your heart. Each time she sat beside you you were overcome with a sense of comfort. Peace. Safety. 

You lean into her again. Your kiss only broken by soft moments of eye contact. Quiet laughter muffled against each other's lips before you each return to kiss the other. Again and again she returns to you. Your grip on her belt tightens. 

Your mind returns to goblin town. When Dís had placed a hand at your waist and covertly guided you to the center of the protective circle they had formed. Crushing you and Ori between all of them. But even after you were there, Dís hand hadn't left your waist. The entire time she had a death grip on your waist, arm, or shoulder. 

You had left that cavern VERY conflicted. But now those emotions were fading into understanding. Into knowing. Already her kiss was becoming familiar.  As you seperated for the final time you held her gaze.

Your breathing mingles with hers in the shared space. Lips swollen from kissing drawing you back in. Her forehead rests against yours. Hands coming to rest upon the small of your back. 

The sound of frogs surrounds you with the swish of branches in the wind. “Lovely Raven?”

“Hmm?” She hums against you, pressing her nose along yours in a tender nuzzle. 

“May I be of service?” You tug meaningfully on her belt. Moments tick by before her hands join yours, sliding the belt loose. Slowly clothes begin falling and you cannot help but notice how her body gleams with evidence. Her fingers grasp a hold of your tunic and you shake your head. “Allow me to take care of you, hm?” Her bright eyes grow darker with desire when you shyly offer: “sit on my face?”

You'd never thought this would happen and every star in the sky was getting a silent thank you. Your hands wrap around her thighs pulling her closer. She shifts above you, finding a comfortable position. Pulling yourself into the heat of her. Your head spins. Inhaling her aroused scent has a soft sigh leaving your lips. 

Then you meet her lips. Your tongue licks and tastes. Lathing along her. Delving inside her. Each passing moment has the trembling in Dís’ thighs growing. Her body hot and throbbing under your tongue and lips. Slowly the sounds of her voice trickle to your ears. Her soft moans and heated inhales only spur you on. 

When she grinds down gains your tongue you moan loudly. Adoring how she took control. Every now and then she'd stammer and she'd rub against your mouth. Seeking more of a certain touch. Providing you a certain taste that left you weaker and weaker for her. You gave her exactly what she was asking for. 

Feeling your own desire threatening to distract you, you squirmed your hips. Hoping the friction would help ease the building tension. But each moan of your name brought you back with your head spinning. God she was beautiful. 

Her body tightened and convulsed around your delving tongue. Giving you a taste of her again and again. Until she cums, shaking around you. Giving you the beautiful sight of her body twitching and shaking from you. Clinging to her you clean her completely, tongue finding every tempting morsel of her. You were going for another round when she pulls off. Suddenly blinded by the light of the world you blink. The space above you felt so empty and lonely. 

Sitting beside your face her hand smoothes back your hair. Your face coated in her slick. Dís eyes are heavy on you, leaning on her arm with a leg propped up she exhales contently. 

You begin rising only to have her hand stop you. Slowly pressing you back down with a smirk. “Stay. This moment? Is for us.” languidly she rolls atop you. Her wide chest and shoulders overtake you easily. The sensation of Dís straddling you alone was enough to make your head spin.

“Hello.” You murmur suddenly feeling bashful. 

“Hello.” She greets nudging your nose against hers. Dís licks over your lips tasting both you and herself mingling on her tongue.  A tongue that you part your lips for and greet her as you always wanted to. Reverently. Sweetly. 

Your hands slowly cup her face again. Gently rubbing along her beard and her cheeks. Your chest heaves as the ties that bound both of you drop away. Her name falls from you over and over in the sacred space between. Head spinning when you feel her hand sliding beneath your tunic. Pressing up along your stomach until her large hand envelops your breast. Gasping into her kiss, your head twists aside. 

She takes the opportunity to place kisses along your neck. Trailing down along the line of your pounding pulse. Inhaling sharply you couldn't contain a moan as her hand rubs and massages you. Your hand clenches the ground beside you. “Dís.” You moan softly, her hand pauses only to shove your tunic over your breasts. “Dís?”

“Keep saying my name. I love how you sound.” She compliments her hand returning to lavish your chest with her undivided attention. Soaking in every sound and every twist of your face. Her smile shifts to a smirk when your hips begin shuddering against her weight. 

“Please, Dís.” You moan unsure about what you actually wanted. Maybe it was more touching. Maybe it was more kissing. Maybe it was just more of her. 

She laughs smokey and deep above you. “Tell me what you want. I'm all ears.” Her fingers pinch your nipple and you squeak. “Hmm? What was that? I don't speak mouse.” Dís teases watching with hooded eyes. “Speak up.”

Moaning beneath her raven talons you squirmed uselessly. She was so cute. Ugh!! Giggling you shake your head. “Feels too good! I can't! Mmm!” Clenching your eyes shut you muffle a moan. “This is all your fault!”

“Sounds like I will have to help you speak up!” Ducking down she taked your breast into her mouth without hesitation. Crying out as she firmly sucks, your hands seep into her hair. Cradling her head against you. 

You had wanted this. Waited for this. It was worth it and fragile as the morning dew upon your sleeping mat in the mornings. You would treasure this forever. Treasure these memories forever. You may never see her again after you reclaim the mountain. But you chose to focus on preserving these moments together in crystallized memories. 

You wouldn't take a single coin from that mountain. Not a single heirloom from her people. Instead you'd be sending her off with your heart. 

It will vanish inside the halls. Honestly?  You couldn't think of a better way to love her. Her freedom. Her choice. All laid above all else. 

Head rolling back and forth you flex beneath her. She continues and continues. Her hand rubbing sends your sensitivity sky rocketing. Her finger skimming circles around your breast, teasing the sensitive spot about your nipple. Enjoying how you absently moan with each rotation. She was simply enjoying you. Every single moment and every square inch of you. 

Pulling back from your heaving chest She stares down at you with smug pleasure. “Better?”

“With you?” You exhaled with a dreamy tone, “it's always better.” Your own hand did nothing compared to how dís was in reality. Your quick trips away to tend to yourself could never come close to how amazing she felt upon you. The heat of her skin. The taste of her lips. The smell of her. God the smell of her. 

Biting your lip you study her face, “tell me what you were fantasizing about, dís. Tell me and it will happen.” You requested your hands skimming along her bare hips. Only for her to break away. Yanking off the remainder of your clothes, you call to her. “Dís?”

Her eyes finally return and her hands return to your body. “I want you. Just as we are.” She murmurs her lips caressing yours. Your hands trace through her hair and cross her expansive shoulders. 

It struck you, only when it was far too late, that you desperately needed to start tracking the date. Was it monthly? Every other month? Every three? Whatever the frequency you had to start writing the event down in a notebook. Pair that with fastidious checking off the dates in between. 

You needed to know her cycle better than she did. 

Because without fail the past 8 times have been nothing short of life changing. But absolutely exhausting. 

Come nightfall she descended like evening’s curtain and swept into the mill, stalking the halls until she finally found you. Her boots barely register upon the wood beam floors. Only her prints left in the ground floor's pounded dirt floor caught in lantern light  revealed she was ever there at all. 

By the first chime of bells you had busied yourself putting aside the log book.  That was your new invention-the string of bells. Not bells themselves. Someone long ago invented those, and thank goodness they did. They saved you the trouble of crafting them yourself to make up for the deficit of cow bell. Never should you live without cow bell. No your bells were strung on packaging twine.  Simple and effective, the long string of bells on the interior side of the door was mocked openly by your coworkers. Little did they know the ‘decoration’ was actually a warning system. 

By the sound of the door shutting you were lighting another lantern. Stowing it out of sight but within reason to light the room- she wasn't going to catch you without a back up this time. 

Dusting off your hands on your clothing, you heave a tired sigh. Silence in the hallway loomed like winter fog, so heavy it froze the breath in your lungs.  The hallway had never seemed darker. 

The night ? Never so insidious. 

“Work at the mill, they said. It would be a great idea, they said.” You grumble gathering a blanket from the corner. Unceremoniously tossing it upon the floor. Obscuring the dust and straw below a veil of cheap spun fiber. You refuse to spend another week picking straw from your hair because she decided the floor was “perfectly sound.”

 No, no not again. 

Being the only female human at the mill had seemed like a daunting task. And it was. It came with the prejudices of the men and the meticulous business work of being the only one with a basic education. It came with the ‘office’ located up two flights of rickety stairs that would be on any Home Inspectors shit list. And it was annoying lugging yourself up and down precariously balancing whatever you were tasked with hauling AND your cane. 

Being from another world entirely made everything far more difficult. Numbers, letters, language everything was different. It had taken you years to get a hang of the basics. But finally you felt secure in your life here. The life you were constructing like Lego blocks. Bit by bit things were coming together. It was clumsy and challenging. Often painful when you accidentally tread upon an errant brick of the past. But work at the mill was engaging enough, yet the log work wasn't the hardest part.

The hardest part was the Dwarves. Who guarded the men in the fields. On your walk there and back you see them working the smithy and cartwright shops from before dawn far into the deepest reaches of night. 

 No one beat the Dwarves in style and dress. 

Who let them look like THAT? It vividly reminds you of the writings of Viking men sweeping off women with their hygienic bathing and hair styling practices. No one bested the Dwarves in always smelling delightful. No one, in your opinion: could beat the Dwarves. 

But their impeccable grooming and body fragrances were not the problem. One in particular made your life far more complicated than the others. Far more complicated than you had anticipated here in the isolated mill. Where days passed by with gusting winds upon the rocky plain your only companions. 

At first he had just plied you with conversation. Then came the gifts. So many gifts. You had to buy additional storage for the gifts in the room you boarded in. 

Each one left you thunderstruck. At first you had politely asked what holiday these were for. Assuming that such extensive gifts were religious in nature. Oh how he laughed. Oh how your stomach bellowed with violently thrashing butterflies. 

Whoever said crushes were gentle vastly misunderstood the verb: crush. 

Three months into knowing him you learn he actually uses she. Learn that within the confines of the office walls and the nest of his arms she is she. But outside of that? He. And he only. 

He passes through every few days. Leaning against the doorframe leading to the stone bridge, without fail you plop beside him on the step. Your cane resting upon your shoulder as you whisper among yourselves. Chatting and trading gossip like that is the highlight of your week. In the privacy of the back room or the scrub beyond he provided you with gift after gift. 

Your own clumsily made gifts followed. Only brave enough to pass them to her. Fearful the prying eyes of the other humans would judge you- for how horrible you were at crafting. Or picking out items from the limited selection at hand up here in the desolate lands of the north.  Normally limited to resale Dwarven goods- which felt strange to give her. But she was always gracious. 

Yet you noticed the sparkle in her eyes and the brighter smile when you gave her a handmade gift. Regardless of how clumsily knit something was or how too big a hat fit she was always thrilled. Even the too small mittens became cherished objects. 

Gift after gift after gift sailed on and on. 

 But excessive gifting wasn't the catalyst for your current situation. 

No, no YOU had fucked up. Out beneath a stubborn heather, you leaned over and kissed his cheek. On impulse. Whispering your thanks for the handsome new cane. Sturdy with a spare tip to grip the ice, it was made of some metal you couldn't place. Lightweight and elaborately patterned. Nothing from your world could compare to the craftsmanship of the Dwarves.

Since then your life was never the same. It singled you out immediately for her affections. When she was fertile? She was ravenous. 

You were, when it was your time. But nothing compared to her. Nothing was as strong as her. Or fast as her. Or as muscular. The list went on. 

Anticipation twisting your stomach,  you lean against the doorway to steady yourself. Squinting into the dark narrow hall. “I know you're there, sweetheart.” You call down once more,  “you come to play again?”

Silence answers you.

“When are we going to have a proper lunch, huh!? I miss that!” Heaving a sigh your shoulders rise and fall. Aching for the picnic you'd share huddled behind a boulder every few weeks. But now? She wasn't so predictable. Not as routine oriented as before. 

 Now she was revealing more and more an endearing impish playful side. 

Tonight? She was feeling trixy, apparently. Pushing off the doorway you go back into the office. Resting that new cane against the desk while you gather ink pots and papers. Clumsily dropping some here and there. The plunks! Reverberating in the mill's vacant husk. 

 After that armful the desk was clear, just in case she decided she wanted to park a body there. Whether it was yours or hers or both? One could never tell. As long as it was a living body you weren't going to complain. 

 “Does your mom know you're out of the hill?” You shout again, glancing over your shoulder. Hoping to provoke a snicker or a terse response. Intentionally messing up the word for ‘hill’ and ‘mountain’ with a healthy helping of thickening your accent.

Nothing. 

Oh she WAS feeling playful! Inside your mind you could picture the exact face she was making. An adorable crooked grin. Her brows furrowed with pride thinking she was being so clever. Arms? Probably crossed. No doubt she was leaning against a wall somewhere in the vicinity, biding her time.

You shift in place feeling your own arousal growing. No one prepared you for your own body. Groaning in frustration you rub your face with both hands. 

Befuddled by your own bodily responses you had gone to the healer in the closest village. But your despair had only made her laugh, “ the older you get, my child, the worse it will become.”

 Patting your defeated shoulders she gave you the simplest advice. Which, knowing minds can guess upon its nature. It was a solution you had no trouble doling out now that you had her coming about. 

But nature had a foul sense of humor. 

Your times were synchronizing- and that was the largest issue of them all. 

You blame her.

However if you took the evidence into consideration: you had more estrogen which meant you had to be the one influencing her.

But how could you allow yourself to be at fault for this?! No, it was definitely her fault!

She had trained your hormones. And as you glance around the prepared room you realize all too late that she may have trained you too. 

Grasping the open faced lantern in one hand, cane in the other you make your way to the hallway. Raising your arm spreads flickering candle light. But it only reveals an empty hallway. Residence only to mill dust and cobwebs. No looming hulking dam to greet you.  “Did you leave already?!” Shifting you glance down the other direction, scowling into the darkness. Has she really left? Miffed, you yell louder,  “you didn't even say goodbye!!???”

No sooner had the words left your mouth than a puff of air rushes past your shoulder extinguishing the exposed flame. 

“Good bye.” She enunciated, interrupting a violent frightened gasp. Her hand meets the small of your back stopping you from tumbling back through the open doorway. “Oh no, don't do that. That would not be good.” She lightly chides a brassy laugh just at the edge of her voice. 

“Again!?” Clutching your chest you let out a long exhale, exorcizing the jump scare from your body. Wheeling out of her grasp you take another set of deep breaths. Scoldingly you wave the extinguished lantern at her.  “Five nights at Freddie's has nothing on you. But this time?” Blustering you prod her chest with the useless metal. “ Oh no! This time I have a back up lantern!” 

This time she wouldn't be creeping around in the dark delighting in your startled aroused squeaks. Giggling in your ear while your hands lashed out trying to grasp onto her. No, not this time! The spare lantern lit the space enough-there was no escaping you. 

Her face morphs into a disgruntled mask, eyes darting back and forth as she tries to sort out yet another parcel of nonsense.  “You spent five nights where?” She finally asks crossing her arms, bending towards you prompting further context.

You ignore her and wave her towards the interior. When she doesn't budge you prod her with your finger. “Inside. Let's go.”

“Very well!” She doesn't hesitate making herself at home. Removing her boots and cloak. Every article was politely placed upon a shelf,  usually reserved for order forms. Now it saw more use as her personal garment rack.

Watching her wandering pulls the wry smile back on your face. Yanking on the handle you heave it closed, barring the door with the usual plank.  The heavy thunk of wood kicks up a shower of dust in the dim light.

“Five nights at Freddie's.” You begin absently loving how cute she was when her nose crinkles. “It's a scary game where things pop out of the dark.”  

Satisfied with that explanation she breezes back over to you. “I thought there was a person named Fred. Perhaps you locked him in the basement?” Standing before you her smile grows more and more cat-like by the second. 

She repeats your name enigmatically, finger pressing the center of your chest she walks you back against the wall. “Hello again.” She greets huskily. Lazily she boxes you in, leaning her one arm against the wall. The other caresses your face with threatening tenderness. 

“Hello, to you too. Mister?” Setting your cane against the wall your eyes dart back to hers. Silently waiting for her to continue. 

 The seconds tick by and so does her hand. Gingerly tracing the planes of your face admiringly. Her face relaxing, brows softening. Seconds turn to what felt like a solid minute.

But was it? You weren't sure. She killed any notion of time you held. Unless it was time you shared. This room is your little liminal space.

Sighing tersely your hand catches her wrist but her hand keeps moving, completely ignoring you. Or rather: enjoying your touch too much to protest. Squeezing your fingers against her thick wrist you continue vexed and perplexed. “Am I to get a name this time? Or should I choose one from my list of human endearments?”

Eyes flitting to you her grin takes an impish turn. Teeth flashing. “Oh, why don't you pick for me.” Her palm envelops your entire cheek. Fingers teasing the hair at your nape. Sending shivers down your body. “ I did like sweetheart last time. Darling the time before. Princess was entertaining.” She lists thoughtfully, head tilting as she soaks you in. 

“YOU are entertaining.” You snort yanking the tattered list from your pocket, scanning the names. Humming the jeopardy theme, your fingers running up and down her arm. The list had seen better days. Originally meant to provoke her into telling you any name whatsoever: it had failed. Laughably so.

 It was a game now.

Everything was. This entire experience living in a fantasy world was like a massive dissociative episode. Any day you expected to open your eyes and find now your new barrel ceiling but the sanitation white of a hospital room. A growing to do list on the table beside you. 

Grumbling through the list  you subconsciously lean into her touch. Shifting to and fro as hormones build mountains. You wanted nearer. To hold her. To feel that peaceful bubble surrounding you when you embrace her. When she wasn't being mischievous she was a sanctuary. She was your peace. Peace?

“Dove.” Announcing it firm and clear shoots her brows higher. “ You're a little dove tonight.” Tapping her chest with the paper you charitably add, “unless tonight is the night I get a name?”

Instead she imitates a dove, cooing against your ear with frightening accuracy. Her lips skim your skin in a heated tease. Chuckling at how your body trembles with every light brush of her lips. 

Shaking your head, your eyes squint disgusted by how accurate she was. At everything. “Can you stop being perfect at LITERALLY everything?”

“No.” She replies simply, still nuzzling the crux of your neck. Pecking kisses along your skin. 

“You want a kiss?” Your finger curls under her chin, coaxing her forward. Tracing her lips with your eyes. Your chest is feather light with anticipation. Rising up to your full height you lean forward, teasing her “are you having a hard day?”

“My day has improved greatly now that I am with you.” Grasping your face with both hands, her lips press a whispering kiss on your lips. Only rejoining you in soft revelry when you murmur, “again.”

The mellow kisses scrape along your mouth. Her satisfied hums reverberate through your chest. Your hold upon her softens following the rhythm she set. Footwork matching hers. Maintaining the smooth pace set by the music of her breathing and the pounding beat of your heart. She assuages every biting doubt within you, and you her.

Your ‘dove’ was precious. Precious to you. 

Attraction to her was a tragedy but the sweetness of it was worth every moment. You would build a world around her if she let you. You would have her if she let you. Her voice alone could raise you from your grave. Her name was solace. 

She held you with attentiveness and yes, she consoled you. Your hands held her with reverence each time you caught her unaware. Slipping your fingers between hers. Plying her with some story or song from your world beyond the veil. She may be built for power but she never used her power on you. 

Not even when she was like this. Not even when she was craving you closer than close. She knows far better than most that a gift demanded is not a gift. A trapped creature does not love: it submits. 

She never forced. Never pressured. Always came with both of you in mind. Both your hands entwined. Your adoration for her all but apparent and growing by the day. What you were to her you didn't know. But should she ask? You consider her a lover. Yet you remain silent upon it. The unspoken words collecting on your tongue are more suited sweet for gravestone epithets than living ears.  

However her gentleness vanishes when you nip her tongue, setting her loose. Hunger takes over. Building rapidly from there you both fall into lust's gravity. The light moans deepen. Her bassy voice sends you reeling. Reeling yourself to her with a tug of your arms around her neck. 

Obligingly she steps closer. Pressing you against the wall with a smidgen of her strength. Needily her mouth collides with yours. Her sounds growing rougher and frail. Fingers skimming up and down your sides, trailing and splaying up and down. Up and down.

You rise against her, crushing and pressing fever hot kisses along her lips. Lacing your tongue with hers provoking a luscious moan vibrating through her throat. All while she continued the kiss. Continues to graze with teeth along your lips. 

It's then she feels your chest rising against hers. Your hardened nipples press against her chest. Hears and feels the gasp that comes between a pair of delving kisses. Feeling your stomach ebbing and flowing with burning lungs. Realizing what was happening she cuts off the kiss. Ending prematurely.

Her lips pull from yours with a trail of saliva connecting your mouths. Tongue snaking out, she licks your lips clean. Only pulling back enough to peer down at you, eyes intense and glowing on their own luminescence within the shadow of her body.“If I become carried away, I apologize.” She rasps, her arm bracing against the wall once more. 

Fascinated by how her playing canine teeth have made your lips puffy and tingle. Panting, your head shakes.“Don't apologize. I like you as you are.” You affirm peering back at her and her inhuman looks. Because suddenly? Suddenly you realize how a rabbit feels clutched in the claws of a predatory beast. “Give me a moment to catch my breath. Remember our little signal?” 

Her eyes drag down your jaw to your neck, only snapping back when you remind her. “Oh yes, yes I do. You remember what I enjoy?” She giggles, her voice so low it sometimes feels like a wall of sound.

“As a matter of fact I do.” Did you ever! It was hard to forget THAT. Her amused laughter conjures up the night she'd handed it over. Her little ‘treat’ was not so little. Her little treat for her alleviation so to speak was held in a cloth satchel in the desk. You slide under her arm peeling away to retrieve it. Her gaze tracking across the room. 

With every movement you are more and more aware of her eyes on your body. Can feel the heat from her stare with each mundane bend and twist while you retrieve the bag. Normally you hated being watched. But her? She could watch you. You'd permit it. The slick between your legs grows. 

“Shed your garments.” Her command comes with an uneasy stillness. Like the surface of a deep pond, water obscured by panes of ducked. 

“Give me a minute.” You call back rummaging through the drawer. The bag trapped beneath piles of parchment. Listening intently to her weight shifting upon the floor, every creek of a board makes you inhale then slowly exhale. The slide and drop of fabric falls like a phantom behind you.

You're ignoring the sensation of dizziness from vending down by conjuring up something better. Vividly remembering how cute she was staring at you when you used this. How sweet her voice was when she told you how to change or move differently for her. 

Her clothes were going to be so dusty when she picked them back up. Giggling beneath your breath you can still see her in your mind. Deep hued attire muted with a fantasmic coat of dust. She haunted you in the best ways. 

 Your fingers finally close around the plush velvet bag. After another tug you rent it free from its prison. “Got it. It was stuck.” Slowly raising your head you swallow back a wave of nausea. Turning just as slowly to face her again, you hold it up to continue building her anticipation. 

Closing the distance your eyes dart between the clothes and her face. Her nakedness is all too familiar. It’s when her soul was naked that she was most beautiful to you. “Some days I fear you only come to get naked and break rules.” You admit, “now?  I love seeing you-clothes or not. It doesn't matter to me.”

“Do not misunderstand.” Her eyes flash dangerously at that statement. A declaration of fondness wasn't taken lightly. The fact you ‘love seeing her’ made her feel all the more wanted. Loved. Respected. She would haunt you for the rest of your life. By choice. She could specter the halls of any other human’s walls. Yet here she was. In a dusty mill giving her all. To you. 

Elaborating her hands move in sweeping gestures as she speaks. Making quite the show for your spectating purposes. “I greatly look forward to our time together. No matter what we do. But right now?” She fondly sighs, bringing you close. “I want my hands on you. ” She growls out between bared teeth. Large hands groping your hips and ass with increasing lewdness.

Carnal ideas multiplying by the score with every passing moment. “Touch my chest, more please,” your request comes with a pliant whine. Your chest has been tender and aching. Now? Now your need becomes ten fold and when her hands press against your hardening nipples you whimper. That whimper turns to a sharp whine as she firmly gropes. Even through your top it was perfect. Tracts of flesh swallowed by her palms and fingers.  The sore pressure pressing against your chest mitigated by a wave of pleasure with each gentle massage.

Her palms press and roll your chest. Watching with vulturous  intent as your chest moves beneath her touch. Stiff peaks press against her palm. She let's out a thrilled huff, eyes devouring you alive. 

“Oh, dove. That feels so good.” Toes curling your body shifts against her once more. Your eyes slip closed, relishing her touch.

Her hands left your hips shifting against her. Aching between your legs rising. Your own fingers stumble over themselves upon the bag's tie struggling to unknot it. The thick cord held twists of metal making it quite hefty. It took all your concentration she didn't occupy to finally get the knot undone.

“You're delightful. Breathtaking. Have I mentioned hmmm, huggable?” She obliges with traveling hands skimming up and down your sides. Exciting a thrill down your spine. 

Finally pulling out the jar of lubricant, you pass it to one of her hands. “Here,” you rub her arm affectionately.

 “You're incredible. I love your laugh and your smile.” You list leaning against her, “and your eyes. How you lurk like a horror in the darkness? I do love that too.” Wrinkling your nose you tack on, “took some time to get used to that. But now? Hmmm cute.” Each time you tap her nose with your index finger you speak it. “Cute. Cute. Cute.”

She chuckles, resting her hand upon your waist. Head tilting at your shenanigans, with a graceful smile and shining eyes. “Horror? Hmm I don't find myself particularly frightening but I suppose we can be. Can't we?” She poses thoughtfully running her hand up your arm, noticing the difference within your muscles and bones. “I will not allow you to come to harm from the truly scary things.”

Face heating at her casual pledge, you nudge her.  “I will protect you from everything I can. But I think I am more suited to fighting dust bunnies rather than, ah I don't know? What do you dwarves fight these days? Trolls? Inadequate paychecks? Starvation?”

Pressing your finger over her mouth before she interrupts your train of thought, you ask quite sincerely. “Do dwarves pay taxes? If so I offer you tax evasion. You can hide in the basement with Fred.”

The smile on her face morphs from confused to incredulous to amused. Kissing your finger she moves it aside with her hand. “So you do have Fred in your basement?”

Shrugging a shoulder you sigh sadly. Mockingly dropping your gaze to the floorboards. “It's more of a cellar. Really. But! We will cease talking about Fred, id rather spend our time together talking about you.”

Holding the bag aloft you put on your best waiter voice. “Dwarven version of a strap made- in what year was this made?”

The fondness in her eyes grows each passing moment, obviously enjoying the stunt you were pulling for her amusement.

 Her fingers rest upon her chin, a patient grin on her lips.  “Who's calendar? Man or dwarves? Freds?” She quips, eyeing the bag with anticipatory delight. 

 ” I took Fred's calendar. He is not permitted to know the passage of time in his dungeon. Anyone else's calendar at this point works better than Fred's inescapable midnight existence.” Returning to the strap you toss your head gently to her and it. Holding it out upon both your hands. Regally bowing to her. Offering her her toy with mock reverence.

Snatching it, she holds her it with a familiar grin. Her finger plays along the polished head, emphasizing each word with a tap of her finger. “This point?”

 ”For that crime, no more fake cock for you! Give it!” Eyes rolling in chagrin, you reach for it, she pulls it away from your hand. “I will give you a point if you don't hand it over!” You protest lunging after it only for your hand to close around the dusty air.  Your feet hit the ground and you begin careening to the left. Sent off balance by your own impish existence. 

Easily she grasps your shoulder and rights you. Once youre stable she giggles brightly.. Twirling on her heel, holding it just out of your ever waving arm. “That is what I was hoping would happen!! Your intelligence never ceases to amaze me!!”  Leaving your fngers wriggling in the air only centimeters away from it. But she pulls it ever further.

Doggedly you keep going. Snatching at it. Jumping for it. Until the inevitable happens again and the world starts tilting. Your stomach twists as vertigo takes over and your feet stumble over each other. 

Instantly she has your arm grasped in hers. Stopping a head long tumble into the ground. “Don't get dizzy!”  She cautions, holding your weight with ease. “ Sadly I see no bouncing for you tonight. ” Her eyes slide to the strap, flipping your stomach at the insinuation. She would change your blood pressure just with the idea she was churning up. 

“I am fine, little dove. But please, let me take care of you.” You assure, feeling the softening smile as a rush of fondness floods your heart. Relishing the playful glitter in her voice and eyes. 

Knowing you would tend to her in the way she wanted. It was nice to be needed. It was even nicer to be wanted. Not for your body but for who you were inside. Using this wasn't about dominance but about providing and caring for her. Watching her feel good in vulnerable beautiful ways. 

Dwarves? You found they held a deep appreciation for the natural world. They wondered the same at a stagnant pond as they did a rushing waterfall. Beauty to them was a natural state of being. Not in a magazine or sold in a bottle.

 Did they have beauty standards? It appeared so. But she never enforced them upon you nor did she bring them up.

She chuckles mirthfully, leaning as she places a kiss upon your nose. Running her hand along your upper arm she smiles a cherishing smile. “And are you truly feeling well today?After all that spinning? Dizzy?”

Eyes cascading to the ground your finger scratches your cheek. Humming Skeptically. “Wellll-! A bit dizzy and I have been pretty tired today but I think I am fine.”

Her nostrils flare. Eyes digging into yours. “You are certain?”

Reassuringly you grasp her arm. “ My little dove, I want to. I enjoy taking care of you like this.” Shyly you whisper an admission best kept between the two of you. “Plus, you are very cute when you are like THAT- and it is fun!”

“Cute? Hmm. I do not know if I have been called cute by anyone but yourself in years.” Nodding, she agrees. “Very well. But we will take time when you require rest. You shall not come to harm in this.”Her warning is clear and stern.

Rolling your eyes you watch her take her spot on the ground. Heart warming at her consideration and support. Human fragility- or the perception of it  seemed to be a thing with dwarves.  

Once you saw him and a friend blanch in the face when a man held up a splinter filled hand. As if the large slivers of wood trapped in his skin would be the end of him. 

Then the time came when you had a fever. She was convinced you would die, appearing outside your window every evening. 

 But now? Now you cannot help being a brat, “no, let me die loving you.” Plopping down you begin undoing your boots, peering at her from the corner of your eyes.  Noticing how her face beams at the word ‘loving’. Maybe one day she would say it back. Until then you would be the one bringing those words to life. 

Yet she made it impossible to concentrate on undressing. The entire time she sat on the blanket, legs spread in an obvious incitement of your hormones. Her tongue lathing up and down the surface of the strap. The polished surface shining with her makes your mouth water. 

“Dove, you are distracting me.” And she was doing it on purpose. The fiend!

She giggles, flashing a coy smile. “No. I'm helping you. And warming it up.”

“No! You!” Fumbling over a sock you toss it at her. She bats it away with ease. Leaving you scowling once more.  “You are distracting me!”

Her tongue runs hypnotizing circles along the head. Unable to turn away, you stare transfixed as the head disappears between her lips. Her hand running it in and out of her mouth conjuring up salacious noises and an even more dewy expression in her eyes. 

Soft baiting whimpers issue from her lips as she fantasizes about you. Your hands in her hair holding it for her while she played. Played with you like she desperately wanted. It didn't take long for her dream to come true. 

Standing before her you gather the straps of the toy,attaching every belt round the appropriate part of your body. She stops her teasing, pulling off the strap with a long drip of saliva following her departing mouth. One that hangs open ever so slightly watching you. Dipping your finger between the band and your leg, you ensure a healthy fit. 

 Once she sees you are set her hand grasps around the polished shaft, tugging you forward to her. Smirking she presses against it, there it presses applying pressure to your body. It sends your eyes fluttering closed and a deep inhale. Once again the head disappears between her lips and she begins bobbing. 

“Having fun, little dove.” Licking your lips you watch her encompass the burnished surface.  “You don't have to, you know I can warm it with my hands.” You coax your fingers beneath her hand gingerly entwining your fingers with hers. 

 Watching her with growing need with every draw of her lips. Every twist of her face as she works it over and over. The knot in your stomach tightens harder and harder. 

She cracks open an eye watching you from between your legs. It sends the shiver down your spine. You feel her hand running up and down your thigh. The other remains entangled in your fingers, where you give her tender squeezes.  Spellbound by her lips. “Dove, I'm sure it's warm now.” You say sincerely, catching hold of her cheeks. “Let me in. Please?”

She departs from it. Looking at you from against your hip. Sighing with a pleasant smile. “I have been looking forward to you all day. Why must you rush me?”

“Lube.” You prompt, kindly undoing the top for her. Watching with bated breath as her fingers spread it along the toy and then down against herself. 

Not wasting any time, she got comfortable on her knees. Her chest resting upon the ground while you help her adjust her legs. 

“Comfortable?” You ask, rubbing her thighs gently as you settle behind her on your knees. 

She adjusts here and there until she confirms. Heady eyes peering back into yours. “Yes. I am ready.” 

Slowly you edge the tip of the strap between her legs. Dragging the head along her trembling inner thighs, there she's already dripping. Her back arches involuntarily straining. 

“You're doing so good.” Leaning you place a kiss on her broad back, muscles rippling with anticipation. Adding another husky praise just to see her shiver. “So good for me.”

Circling the hard head along her thighs, your hand grips her hip. Grasping tighter and tighter building her thrill with each swirl. “Is this how you want me? You want to feel us?”

Head bowing forward she moans your name. Oh the turns tabled when you had the stupid fake penis. It made you giggle to this day how universal sex toys were. Everywhere there was a fake penis. A fake penis that allowed you to merge with her and bring her to her knees with ecstacy. The fake penis she craved with insurmountable need for its vulnerability and sex's unspoken declaration of trust.

“Please? I want you close.” She requests. 

 The head presses against her entrance and she shifts back taking the tip inside her body. 

Obligingly you slowly press into her. “That's my beautiful one. ” Taking your time filling her centimeter by centimeter. Loving the view of her back arching and her neck craning forward. “That's it. Take me, I know you can.” You sweetly praise in a hush.

Her body shakes and spasms around you and against you. Her breathing hitches. A sharp gasp fills the room while your slow movement sweetly torments her. 

Dirty talk in the way you did it was new to her. Sometimes she laughed- which you loved. Sometimes she moaned- another love of yours. Sometimes her nose wrinkles and you have to pause to explain some nuanced cultural thing- you held an adoring love for that side of her too. No, you had a deep love for every reaction crossing her face. All of them. Equally. At once beautiful and perfect in their own ways.

Finally you sit in to the hilt, caressing her lower back tenderly. Appreciating the rippling movements of her body and the way she visibly clenches you. “What a good little dove you are. Feel how deep I am?”  You don't move, but your other hand reaches around her hips where it perches on her mons. 

Threefold were the reasons you do this. One: it presses the strap against both her sensitive spots. Two: many, including her, were turned on by rubbing the mons because it externally presses the g spot. Finally: if you leaned over and ONTO her it made distribution of weight easier. This activity was laborious, dizziness and discomfort were constant threats. But they wouldn't stop you. 

A delicious frail moan leaves her as you press gently against her mons with your hand. Pushing her sweet spots flush against the strap. “Feel good?”

“Yes. Yes, so good.” She murmurs, mouth agape with each breath of air swelling her ribs. Hormones have her primed and strung tightly. She appreciatively speaks your name in a way only meant for beautiful untouchable things. 

“Good. I am glad.” Placing a kiss upon her back, you nuzzle affectionately. Rolling your hips back she whines in dismay. The strap slipping through her folds. 

Only to jolt forward with a shout when you rut into her in one motion. Her fingers dig into the blanket, scrunching the fabric into her palms. She cries your name again, desperate and pleading. 

Biting your lip you repeat the motion, hips stuttering until you fall into a comfortable rhythm. “I love helping you. Seeing you.” Keeping yourself steady with the hand gripping her hip. Always pressing and rubbing against her mons. Ensuring every stroke ran along each sweet spot within her. Puffing gasps leave you when you finally find the rhythm needed to apply pressure to yourself. 

“I've been practicing for you,” you grunt against her back, shining in sweat in the light of the lantern. It had been hard using it the first few times. But it was such an intimate psychological event that even when you didn't do it right you still got off. From watching her parted lips mewling and her body shaking. 

 Her dew drips down her trembling thighs with each passing moment. But when your hand slides to stroke the hidden stem and exposed head of her clit she loses all restraint. 

Crying out sharp ah ah ah's, with every thrust. Her forehead presses into the floor, mouth agape. Heavily panting beneath the onslaught of pleasure. Upon your chest her back muscles ripple and tense. Against your hand her body throbs and heats. 

Your eyes track her body, checking she is enjoying herself. Noticing every delicious detail of her which builds nothing short of pride and affection within your heart. You speak her name and she answers with a pliant whimper. 

Your fingers stroke in tandem with your hips. Carefully finding your way up the stalk hidden within her. Traveling down in soft pulls. Only stopping to gather her slick and the lube. Lubricating her exposed bud. Sending her a twitch beneath your grasp. “That's it, dove. That's it.” You pant from the exertion and the high she was taking you on.

Beside your legs her toes curl and flex. Instinctively searching for something to ground herself. You give her no grace. She doesn't signal to stop.  Your eyes are constantly glancing to check in on her. But from past experience you know she needs this, she told you as much, however you also know that this? This wouldn't even scratch the libido itch.

There was no way a human could give her the speed and power she really wanted. She would do that herself while you rested beside her. Yet here she was beneath you, eyes screwed shut, lips open wet and panting. Deliciously falling apart in ways that had you going mad. 

She could have gone to any other dwarrowdam or, if she fancied, any dwarf for that matter. But she never did. She sought you out each time.

You had figured you were a strange special interest. She must have a liking for human women and just happened upon the only one for miles.

 A strange thing for a dwarf, from what you heard. After all, you weren't aesthetically Dwarven. 

But she loved pawing your curves and clutching your hips while she devoured you. Her hands shamelessly groping your soft tracts of skin all while she coaxed you further towards the edge. She seemed to get off watching you twist and squirm and moan for her to ‘keep going’. 

Her fancy Dwarven sex toys had leveled the playing field for you, all things considered. This one? Wasn't even your favorite. Your favorite was the double ended dildo they had. Yes they had those too. Dwarves had almost everything,surprisingly. Rolling you moan at the thought of it. How good it felt to be moving into her and feel her moving back.

If only this were the same. But her body was taking everything. The obscene noises and smell of sex had you on edge. The pressure against your body with every forward thrust. Every nerve is alive and alight. 

The frenzied pace of your hips brings you closer to her and her closer to completion. She is dripping onto the floor. Her noises becoming louder. Her back arching. Her fingers twisting the blanket. She was lost in the feeling. Just like she wanted.

 If only you could go back and get her a vibrator. Ovulation leaves her an absolute mess but a vibrator might help mitigate some. Instead she came here. Pleading for you to rub her swollen chest and her puffy folds the moment you were alone with her. Peppering you with kisses all while holding you with reverence. 

Cuddling together your voices hush and vanish into the night air, hands held and legs entangled. You existed as each other's haven. 

“There! Right there!” She cries out. The shaft runs at just the right angle to hit a particularly sensitive spot. Obligingly you pause, shifting your focus to hitting ‘there’ again and again.

 For once someone couldn't get enough of you. It was addicting.

Once you find your rhythm your hand goes back to pressing upon her mons. Her raw voice floods the space. Her forehead resting upon her arm as she presses back against you. Meeting your thrusts over and over in a maddening rhythm. Shoving the base against your clit again and again. 

“Halwê! Perfect!” She cries back, her body tensing deliciously clenching the toy. Loving each moment her tear filled eyes peer back at you while she cried out.

Leaning back you watch her body tightening around it. The psychological pleasure of the view and your Dove's cries leaves the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. Dizziness begins to build. Closing your eyes you focus on your breathing. Gripping her hips you concentrate on driving it along her. Bringing her pleasure and comfort. Giving her release she craved. Further you were motivated by her frail cries and staggering gasps. 

Beneath you her body pulses. Her body stiffens. Her eyes shut tighter and tighter. Back arching her climax shatters her to pieces. Voice raw with every gasp. 

Every leftover tremor you wring from her. Slowing your hips, watching her face relax and the tension recede. Relief apparent on her features, you sigh happily. Adoring how she dreamily sighs and rests against the blanket. 

Sitting in her to the hilt, you hold tight to her. Breathless from exertion you take the moment, soaking her in and memorizing her. How her chest expands with her breath. How she adjusts on her arm to look back at you. Even watching her toes curl was endearing. “You like me, don't you?” You ask softly, wondering if you could get at least that answered. 

She did. Otherwise she wouldn't be here. She could have anyone else but here she was. Asking for the same attention again and again. 

“No,” she responds coyly, biting her lip. Her hips wriggle moving the strap against you provoking a wanton moan from you. Watching with lust hooded eyes, over her shoulder. “You're cute. That's all.”

Biting back another moan when she applies pressure again. Your head lays against her back pressing the pair of you closer together. “Liar! Oh! You! You're a lying liar who lies.” You sing jokingly against her sweat coated back, topping off the tease with a kiss to her skin. All the while her laughter fills the room.

Your hand leaves her center and joins your other perched upon her ass. There you press them tightly together around the strap, where she twitches and whimpers.

Taking a much needed break you rest your weight on her. Flush to the base. Listening to hear inhale and exhale. 

Checking in with yourself, scanning your own body for weakness. For pain. For dizziness. You find each one. A perfect bingo. Dammit. “I am feeling dizzy. Unfortunately.” No matter what, you didn't want to stop. You wanted to keep going but that was how you got hurt. Not listening to your body. 

“Time for a break then.”  Her reminder is welcome but a bit disappointing. You loved feeling an extension of yourself inside of her. Bringing her such wonderful feelings gave you a sense of pride you hadn't expected. 

Sighing you run a hand along your forehead, slicking back the sweat. “Would you like me to keep it on?” You ask,  pulling free from her. 

Her chin perches on her hand, gazing back over her shoulder at you. Studying you for the fatigue or discomfort you weren't reporting to her. Her finger taps upon her chin. A thoughtful hum reverberated through her chest before she finally responded. “No, take it off, I want to hold you.”

“If you insist.” Undoing the straps and placing it back upon the bag to wash later. Or use, if she so felt the desire again tonight.

 She turns and sits up, folding her legs.  As you begin to sit she shakes her head, “no no. Come here.” Stepping over you follow her beckoning hands to stand before her. 

“Leg up.” She instructs patting her shoulder and with her other hand the appropriate leg. 

Balking, you stare down at her with widening eyes. “Leg up? But I'm dizzy. I'll fall.”

“I will not let you fall.” She tugs gently on you. “ I want all your weight on me. Come now, trust me.”

“I trust you, it's just weird.” Grasping her shoulder and opposite arm you maneuver your leg, draping it over her shoulder. “This is! Uhm!” Very intimate! You could feel the edge of her breath over your core. Biting your lip you watch her with hooded eyes. Watch her bring you flush against her.

“Is it good? Dizzy?” She lifts and shifts you closer, clutching your ass and with her opposite hand your hip. “Lean completely on me and hold on.”

 You did. One hand on her shoulder. The other in her hair. “Yes, it's good. I don't feel like I'm going to fall now. Just don't move my head around and I'll be fine.” Tightening your grip the moment she pulled you against her completely. 

“Tell me when that changes.” Her lips part and close around your clit. 

“Oh?! Oh! Oh fuck!” Sharply gasping with every sucking jolt from her mouth. She held you firmly, there was no way to wriggle away while she teases. She wasn't going to let you fall, even if it was for her. 

She alternates between sucking and lapping between your folds. Your voice pitches and falls into the tightening knot in your stomach. Her beard rubs against your thigh with each movement of her jaw. Sending tingles at the soft scraping texture. Her nickname spills from you in a shuddering moan.

Looking up at you from against your stomach she smiles, beard and mouth glistening wet with you. “Are you?”

“Yes! Yes I'm good,” you gush tugging her face back down. “Keep going. God, keep going.” It was so good. You were open for her and she was so close. Her tongue was so warm it left a tingling trail over your skin. Each suck made you clench tighter, your thigh pushing against her head. Her nickname falls again and again in alternating faltering whimpers and cries. 

The position was so intimate it made your head spin from bliss alone. Now as she suckled on you in rhythmic pulls she had YOU releasing breathless volleys of ah ah ah ah! 

Your legs shake and your body quivers, fortunately she held you firmly. Relying on her. Trusting her without question. She would never allow you to fall. She would never drop you. Unless it was off an orgasmic cliff like she was doing now. Pushing you higher and higher towards an untimely end. 

An end that comes sooner than you wanted. Your work with the strap and her delving tongue set you up for success.

Your body wound tighter and tighter against her. Hips stuttering against her grasp. Until finally your body snaps and shatters against her.  Catching your breath you clutch tighter to her head to remain upright. Sweet words spill from your lips. Listening to her hungry moans as she continues tasting you.

 Her head moves up and down lathing and sucking, chasing the squirting pleasure rushing from you. Moaning low as she catches you on her tongue. Sampling your creation intimately. Knowing now that she has teased you so well you were soaking her tongue again and again. 

And with her tongue she once more pushes you towards release. Sucking and lapping along your swollen folds. Soaking in your meek cries. Delighting in how high strung you were thanks to biology. Thanks to your adoration for her. Thanks to her techniques.

“More.” You keen as her hand thoroughly gropes you, keeping you close and squishing your skin.  “Please,” you gasp. The fact she could hold your weight and please you this well had your arousal sky rocketing.

Her moan vibrates you, sending you reeling. Your hips stuttering are finally freed and she guides you in grinding against her mouth. Feverishly rutting against her. Rubbing yourself again her succulent mouth. Your body climbing higher and tighter against her lips. Against her tongue. 

And then? She withdraws.

Whimpering pitifully your hand tightens in her hair. “Dove! Why?” You feel her lips kiss along your thigh, ignoring the twist of your hips. Trying in vain to close the distance. To get back your high. But she keeps to her work leaving kisses along your skin.

She sends you back up, rubbing her cheek along your heated core. Her lips part, but instead of taking you again she blows a soft puff over you. Giggling as you shake. “ Why? Because this is for you and I want you to feel so good.” 

You didn't doubt this. Especially when her fingers slide from behind, lightly stroking your slit. So close to the opening it made you whine again. Biting back a moan your hand tightens in her thick hair. Tightening and tightening. “Babe, please.” You plead, wanting it to continue and end. Wanting her closer and closer.

“Oh, halwê, I want to be close to you and only you. Do you understand?” She asks duskily, nuzzling you with her nose and lips. So soft and pleasant upon your throbbing skin it sends tingles through your limbs. Lighting up your heart.

Within the hillside lay not the sapphires of Ered Luin. Rather the flowing rivers winding through the mountains hold cobalt waters lush with fish and stone. Stone wore smooth by time’s passage and water's journey spurned by gravity's guiding hand. Friction like a blanket on a chilly winter night takes rough uneven surfaces and smooths them to completion. 

Yet it wasn't the blue of the rivers that drew you in. No you have found another thing so blue that within them laid bare it's own force of nature.  

One sickeningly sweet August day you saw them, butterflies sipping from outstretched arms. Veins crushed and mawled beneath instruments of war. Relinquishing trickling cadmium onto the loose soil. A final reach. A final gasp. Preserved beneath resting cobalt wings. 

Frozen: as if the blue dripped down onto flesh and crystallizing it. 

Staring transfixed, you watched her drink her fill. Slowly sipping drop after drop. Drought after drought. Moment after moment someone's life slipped into hers. Consumed completely;as if they were nothing. Tears and blood now ran through her, and with her into the sky above. 

But it wasn't alone for long. They landed one after the other. The ultimate consumption of nature and man.  What was this creature so bright and free doing drinking a carnal beverage like blood? What drew it close and then on to taste such an elixir rich of iron?  

Was it all animalistic blood lust? Or was there something more that drew each flitting wing down down down to that unmoving perch? 

You didn't know. You wouldn't ask. But the same blue that flashed upon the blood stained ground dwelled beneath her lashes. The same color as the butterfly wings. The darkest of browns encasing the brightest of blues. 

Back then, standing before him, you didn't ask him what had happened. Why he killed these men. Didn't think to. Merely you offered him your waterskin. He needed something to drink with all that blood dried on his face.  “Blue butterflies grant wishes.” Sitting down you on the same log you squinted, watching the lazy wing beats.  " What did you wish for exactly??"

Now that you know her? Her pronouns changed but other things? Well, other things stayed the same.

Opening your mouth to speak, you hesitate. Noticing how far off her eyes drift along the cat tails of the opposite bank. Logs and branches rush by, carried by a deluge from the upper heights and the spring thaw. Exhaling through your nose you study her graying eyes. Whenever talk of family or futures cropped up it clipped her wings. Plummeting blue eyes into a stone grey wash. Pain. It was apparent did dwell behind her rough exterior. She just hid it. 

“Dís….” Would she be the end of you? Someone torn. Never truly existing in the lives of these men nor the ones you left behind. Never truly belonging. In the opinion of the worlds you shuttled between: you would always be an outsider. But you didn't feel so alone when she was near. Perhaps that was your selfish act. You chase a butterfly you couldn't catch. 

Not to keep. But to cradle it in the shelter of your hands. A respite from the elements and birds which hunted it.  

“Your eyes give you away, Dís.” Pointing out the emotional pain changing her eyes from one hue to the next. From piercing blue to a slab of stone. Both impenetrable. Both cold. But that doesn't stop you from being her friend.

 “You don't need to be brave with me.” You reassure, boring holes into the opposite bank yourself, “we are both running from things. There's no shame in that.” 

Her eyes close. A huff blowing through her nose. “I am not running. From anything.” She informs curtly, fingers tightening upon her forearm.

“Oh?” Falling back onto the bank your arms fold behind your head. “Then running from someone?” You guess not really caring if you hit a jackpot.

 It was solely to prompt her own thinking. Solely pushing her around her mind, as if she was in a shopping cart and you stopped before every aisle of woe. Thumbing it out with a questioning look. But at each aisle she shakes her head. So on you go pushing the cart through her life of sorrow and pain. On and on and on and on.

The rushing sound of water wove a web within the inhale of the pine and firs high above. You had noticed the change in her over the last month. It came all at once just as loudly as a singular leaf hitting plummets. An audible and surprising crunch upon the ground startling you into realization that summer languishes on its deathbed. 

It went just as predictably.

She changed. 

You noticed and waited. 

She maintained the change.

You ask in a round about way. 

She says nothing, skirting the issue as a feral cat presses tightly against a fence. So now you had to clear out the cloche top jar she sat in, persistently proclaiming everything was “well.” 

When it blatantly wasn't. 

Perhaps she'd give you the privilege of seeing her break through her gilded chrysalis. Perhaps not. It wasn't your place to force her. But you could certainly prod at the armor she wore for any signs of life within. 

Because butterflies drink blood on the killing fields, staining themselves the same color as her wine soaked lips. 

Behind the pair of you the leaves shuttle in shoals over the baring earth. Soon the harsh autumn winds will begin and biting cold will set in. Winter was tiptoeing ever closer. 

“Dís.” You begin again, eyes sliding meaningfully to her pinched face. She flicks a leaf off her arm. You avert your gaze in case she needs space to share. Share anything. Literally anything. 

Silence continuously greets your ears. It speaks volumes with your present company. You didn't mind it. But it does cause your line of sight to drift. Studying her face closely. Mapping and marking the landscape there like a cartographer. Highlighting where emotion falls in plains and dried in a dessert.

She wasn't one of your kind. Not in body. Despite it all, mind and heart crafted the rules of attraction; you were a puppet to their strings. Yet for Dís you did not hold a lustful ardent flame. No, for Dís you held something both deep and shallow. The kind of attraction you felt for her was more ascribed for lingering hands; lyrics of what could have been.

“When I arrived here I was alone. It felt awful. Everyone I loved unreachable. Gone but not dead. I felt like a shade.” As the words leave your mouth you wonder why you're saying it. Slowly on their own accord your fingers crawl along the ground. Gentle as the breezing leaves. Unmentioned as morning frost. Wondering to what end you're allowing your hand to move closer to hers. 

You shouldn't want her. But you do. You couldn't have her. But you will if she permits a chance beyond a glance. She wasn't the kind of person you could reach, wasn't the kind your world had its mind set upon for you. Nor were you her expected choice. But your eyes remained transfixed upon her like no one else. 

The bashfulness falling away before it washed ashore and found itself again. 

It felt right but risky. Like you shouldn't even think about it. Nonetheless, try it? But you weren't a coward. Afraid of many things like other people, yes. Yet in this you had so much to lose.

 “Your friendship changed that. It means far more than the world here or there. So when I say these things I say them because I mean them. Not because I want something from you.” 

You weren't there trapping her to the wall with silver pins when you whispered sweet things. Your words are not a cloche top shielding her from the skies.  Desires never intended to  prevent her flight into the world beyond; flitting from thing to thing. Task to task. Person to person.   

“I want to be here for you, but you have to let me. So whenever you're ready I will be here. Pestering you. Even if its for the stupidest thing imaginable.” Hesitantly running your finger along the edge of her hand. 

 From your spot on the ground you catch the tentative twist at the corner of her lips.

You wait with baited breath, curious what she is finally setting free. But when she does you are not ready for it. But thats the point with Dís.  

“I think you like feeling needed and you've chosen wrong. I don't need you.”  She hits a sensitive spot with practiced ease. 

“Ow! I'm not needy!” Sitting up with a huff you glare at her. Stray leaves falling from your hair with the burgeoning movement. “Take that back!” You demand now your glare intensifies upon her unflinching face. But was she pushing you away? Was she testing you? Did she honestly not want your friendship?!

“If you do not wish to hear the truth then you may leave.” She informs her eyes returning to the opposite side of the river.

You scoff, shaking your head. “ As if! Now take it back!” 

She shakes her head with a soft chuckle. 

Growling you lunge upon her. Colliding with her boulder body- like a pidgeon hitting a brick wall. It takes the breath from your lungs. If you had feathers they would be scattering upon the ground from the impact.  

“Get down!” You grunt pushing against the ground using all of your strength to push upon her shoulders. But all you feel is the ground giving way beneath your shoe digging trenches into the ground. 

Her low chuckle begins to rattle her chest. Watching your struggle with a tired sigh. Dís catches your shoulders helping you stay upright. “Mmm, no.” She intones drly. 

“Mm!!! Yes!!” You mock pushing harder still only for your foot to slip and your face to collide with her torso. “No!! My pride! I'll never get it back!” 

Dís snickering is slowly growing louder. 

Rubbing your cheek you glower before her. Faces only inches from hers. “ Oh shut up! I paid full price for it!”

Her laughter mingles with the clouds and you shove back on her again.  “Theres no refunds for damaged pride, Dís! How am I supposed to fix it?!” 

It wasnt gravity's grace that pushes her back against the grass. No, you were far more certain she did it on her own accord.Your hands still brace upon her shoulders all the instigation she needed to allow things to unfold. Laughter dying on her lips. Curiosity gleaming in her eyes like tentative wings. Waiting to take flight.

Again: was she waiting to flee or waiting to take control?

Shifting your weight you straddle her, ever pushing down on her shoulders. Eyes meeting hers with mutual knowing she would move at any time. She could move. Your strength was nothing to hers. Or maybe that wasn't true- maybe a different kind of strength you possessed was far greater than hers. 

Maybe that's why you've become friends. 

This was the closest you've been, with her eyes piercing into your soul. So often they cut you but never so close. So intimately. Without hesitation your soul bleeds from the wound she gifts. The blade of her ever watchful gaze drives deeper when she dryly asks. 

 “ Are you enjoying yourself now?” She impaled your heart so deeply when she asks such things. For she knows the answer. She can read you like no other. To her? You're a translucent membrane upon a wing. 

 Heartbeats pass. For some reason your breathing picks up. You can't name the reason. Or rather you wouldn't. Not yet. Not when it was a fragile powerful thing. Alighting upon your palm. Unblinking, preparing for its escape. Undoubtedly ready to ascend the moment a finger involuntarily twitches. 

“No.” You begin softer and slower. Coaxing her with words spoken low. “It could be improved.” Your eyes fall from the turbulent icy shoals of her eyes. “You could make it better.” Then down upon her lips. You cannot help but imagine how soft they are. How sweet they would taste upon yours. 

“Somehow I doubt the truth in that.” Somehow she doubted it but you weren't a fool. You felt her ribs expand sharply and then fall beneath you. You heard her take a breath the moment you ease down to rest upon her. 

Your fingers tenderly brush hair behind her ear. A dark brown cascade nested safely away, your thumb strokes the lobe of her ear. “Then you doubt me? Oh dís, that isn't very nice. Then again I enjoy that about you.”  Traveling the round surface without looking from her eyes. She peers up at you and you watch as the chrysalis begins cracking. 

“Mmm you could kiss me? That would improve things.” You venture guardedly, feeling your hand tighten upon her shoulder. Noticing how her lips flit between their tight line and a smile and then back. All within a fraction of a second. From flower to flower. Emotion to emotion. 

Your head lowering by the second is greeted by the sensation of her hands trailing up your thighs. “Why haven't you kissed me? Are you afraid of me?” She asks and by the way her eyes don't have their usual light to them you gather some truth. You wished that hadn't been a thought in her mind. 

But you can still see the blood covering her face. Ever clearer the way she had watched in confusion as you rolled up her blood stained sleeves and wiped her hands clean. One finger at a time your shirt wet by your waterskin cleansing the red grime. 

Your hands slowly trail along her shoulder and then down her arms. Pressing them beside her head, your eyes remain transfixed. Lacing your fingers in hers. “I could ask you the same. Are you afraid you'll like kissing me? Will that open up your heart too much too soon? Are you too soft?”

Her head tilts at the veiled accusations. Of softness. No, she was a Dwarf. She knew how to be ‘soft’ as men would call it. To love and to cherish. But to connect- you watched her struggle with that. 

How could you not observe her so singularly? But does she not know how to forge deeper bonds or does she just hide? Hide within a chrysalis. Physical intimacy was one thing but emotional intimacy is another beast entirely.

“Your heart isn't as confined as you think it is. They have you caged upon the wall. Butterfly in a glass box. You're a pretty decoration for them. But not to me, never to me. If I were there I'd set you free, unpin you from your glass casket they've assigned you.”

Your fingers trail and whirl a lock of her hair round and round your finger. Spinning like the fate takes golden thread, warping a life. Not knowing Dís is royalty. Not knowing how deeply true it was. Murmuring with every rotation. “Tragedy of Dís written on the plaque. Hmm? Can't even kiss someone when you want to, is that it? ” 

Dodging in you, feel her cheek brush against yours as she rises to meet you. Her bearded scruff rubbing against your face. But you turn your head, whispering against her ear.  A languid smirk on your face as you provoke and goad.  “Unpin yourself from the wall, Dís.” You hush nudging the sensitive skin beneath her ear with your nose. “ Set yourself free.” 

In one easy movement she grasps your shoulders and rolls you beneath her. Ignoring the surprised yelp. Her face settles upon you, satisfied with the new predicament. Pinning you upon the ground she shifts her weight to rest on either side of your hips. And if she rubbed down just a bit? That was between the two of you. 

“Dís….” Looking up at her you bite your lip admiring her from this close. Your mouth opens and closes until she whispers, “just kiss me.” Her kiss encompasses you in a surge of emotion. Her nose brushes and collides with yours as you kiss. Ebbing and flowing as you each take your turn becoming closer. Your tongue runs along her lip and she growls, deepening the kiss. Pressing against you her hair falls round you separating you both from the world.

Who took off who's clothing first? That question would remain a mystery. One you didn't care for an answer to, it could remain obscured along the river bank. Tangled in the reeds and beneath the rocks upon the bottom. 

Just like you were wrapped in her. Kisses flowing like the river lazing by. Whispers brushing among the sound of the blowing leaves. Your nose brushes her cheek as you take a breath. Her eyes slowly open, rejoining yours. You laugh low, fingers playing with the hair at the back of her neck. The softness in her gaze was unmatchable. Her chuckle joins yours. She steals another kiss. You let her run with it. 

Run with it like your hand presses between you. She rises, allowing your hand to slip beneath her body. Her kiss slowing into a tender lull, only to pull back when you gasp. Your fingers curiously delve sampling and assessing your core. Finding slick coating you in a slippery dew. 

Her eyes drift to yours, gaze heady and dark. Dís tilts her head when you release a soft sigh. Touching yourself again. Her weight divine. Her scent better than any floral note could carry. No she smelled like earthen dusk and days spent speaking beneath the willow trees. And smoke of incense and pipe. She smelled like a home but a home she did not dwell within.

“I want to see how you like it Dís. Show me?” You propose, flinching as an overly sensitive spot reveals a gasp of pleasure. Each one draws her nearer and nearer. In like a lure. In where she kisses your neck.

Her fingers run along your beating pulse. “Don't hold back because I'm here.” She keeps your face from turning away, smiling at the way your shoulders begin to twist as you find the perfect rhythm. “Is this how you think of me after we part?” She asks curiously, eyes committing every gasp and whine to memory. “ Do you say my name just as you do when you moan??” Just as breathy and tantalizing. Just as enchanting to her ears. 

You swallow back a whimper. Vividly recalling how you etched her from the dark dreary ceiling of your room. Muffling the sound of your voice so your neighbor didn't hear through the thin plaster wall. Hear your voice lamenting Dís. 

Dís. Dís. Dís. 

Feeling your face warm, your nod comes slowly but it spreads her grin wider. “Yes, but then I felt bad because we are friends.” The admission feels a bit late. Your hand stills. Carefully studying her face you venture, “is that uncomfortable for you?”

Her laughter floods her eyes. Just as it always did. “Perhaps asking this of me before we were naked would have been prudent.”

 Grazing your neck with her lips she sighs contently against your ear. “I don't mind it. Say my name. I want to hear who makes you feel this way.”  You give her just that. Again and again. Encouraged with every kiss she leaves beneath your ear and upon your neck.

Everytime you found a new center for your self pleasuring your voice carried louder, she whispers against your ear. “That's it. You're doing it perfectly. “ The teasing of lips on tingling skin.

Again and again until your world stills and your body silences. Simply focusing on breathing her in with each slowing breath. Her presence spins around you in a kaleidoscope of blue wings. Then it snaps beneath her. A flood of contentment washes over you while you bask in her multifaceted lights. 

Every Dís you knew, from the blood stained warrior to the keeper of ravens was precious to your heart. Even the Dís that would goad you away from her was engraved like an epitaph into your soul. She would remain there for eternity. Encased in memory and time. Beneath glass. A beautiful thing you could ponder beneath your fingertips. 

Each landing of her lips like a landing of wings. Her hand braces beside your head while the other pulls yours away from your body. “Let's try this.” Cupping herself she lowers above you until the back of her hand runs along your core. Moaning as the sensation of her powerful hand grinds against you intimately. Hotly. 

Touching both of you at the same time. 

Building up friction that sends your eyes rolling and closing. Her name returns to the now dusk sky. Returns to the branches of the willow swaying in the breeze. Returning to you is her gasping moans and strained sighs. 

“Faster. Harder.” You urge, hands latched upon her shoulder and cheek. When she hits the right pressure and rhythm you squirm and tremble beneath her.  Being pinned to the ground beneath her was worth being confined to your own glass coffin. It was worth being trapped in the futility of it all. Seeing her face twist and her eyes screw shut. Lips parted and panting.

You would pay the price and reap the cost of touching her so softly. 

Your hand slides down her bracing arm. “You are so beautiful.” Praising her between strained breaths and gasping moans. Reaching for her your fingers graze over her thumb. This time she responds in kind. Latching a few of your fingers beneath her thumb. Holding onto you as she climbed higher and higher. The atmosphere her only limit now. 

Here in the sky it's just the two of you. Her breathing rougher, she feels your wetness coating her hand. Your name finally falls from her lips and your heart soars. “Feeling good?”

Her eyes crack open, glazed and heady. “Mm?” She asks, her pace continuing as she memories the way you shift along the grass from her rolling hips. How your body trembles and bounds beneath her motion. 

“Feel? Good?” You moan again, eyes clenching shut as pleasure overrides your body. Your fingers clutch tighter round her thumb as the clouds swirl around you whitening your vision. Your climax hits with the power of a plummeting fall. Warmth buzzes through you in a swarm of heat and fuzzy goodness. 

Your eyes open returning to Dís just in time to catch the end of her own peak.  Her lips shinning and parted. Dark hair lacing against her face as sweat coats her brow. Your hand slides free and reaches for her. Beckoning her down to rest upon your chest.

“Feeling better Dís?” You sigh happily brushing your hands through her hair. Tending to her once again. Even as she slides to the side she remains beneath your fingers. For now she wasn't beneath glass. Wasn't hidden away from you nor you her. 

A shame, you think, that you may never reside beneath the same pane of glass. But that's what made this moment that much more important. That much more sacred. 

Dís’ head remains resting upon your chest. She listens to your heart slowing to a gentle pace. She rises and falls with the breath in your lungs. There is peace. Her eyes flit closed as you begin humming. Hands gliding along her deep brown hair. Time passes and you place every second upon a leaf floating by on the river. For safe keeping. For later. 

When she sits up you pause. Stopping your humming you pull your hand back. “Is something wrong?” You ask worry knitting your brow. 

She shakes her head, cupping your cheek in her hand. “No, on the contrary. But I know how to improve it.” Her eyes drift up and down you with meaningful intent. “Why don't I show you a convenient use for Dwarven fingers?”

Your scowl comes with a confused, “What? They're just fingers?? Why are you smiling like that?!” You ask, staring down at her fingers.

This fic hits sapphic research bingo: ovulation✔ wearing someone else's clothing ✔ teasing dominant ✔

HOW WAS YOUR DAY?

Laying upon the bed you relax back, legs dangling off the edge. Allowing the work day to fall away. The stress and weight crumbling off your shoulders.  You only tense when the bed dips dramatically, you peer from beneath your arm at her. 

Sitting at the edge of the bed, Dís runs a hand along your legs, easing up the fabric. Her fingers drag up over your knees. Tantalizingly pushing the fabric of her tunic up your body. Thrilling at how you looked wearing her clothes. Possessiveness spikes knowing you slept in it every night now. 

The moment she saw you were wearing it at your door? 

That's when it was all over for any platonic cuddling that night. No gentle tending. You bumped against something in her cloak the moment you went to hug her. Whispering into her ear, “disarm yourself.” 

“Youve already disarmed me.” She murmured autumnal and dark, her hand played with strands of your hair. Only frowning when you pull back a layer of clothing revealing the nearest blade. Nestled in an oft used hiding place upon her body. 

“Dís, if you don't intend to stab me.” Your voice trailed off, eyes meeting hers meaningfully. Her lopsided smile takes a dark turn but you don't budge. Your finger presses upon the handle of the dagger. “Away with your talons, Raven Master.” With a bassy laugh she walks over to the hutch disarming herself. While she places her things high above away from prying hands, your eyes trail over her back. 

A back you now have a lovely view of as she sat upon your bed, despite her blue tunic concealing her skin. 

You bite your lip, feeling a chill over your skin as air hits your core. Cold due to the unusually harsh winter. On cold nights like this you always wished she would visit. On this night she had blown in with the snow. Blustering sheets of wet snow built along her shoulders. While she undid her boots you put more logs on the fire, snatching her boots from her. Placing them upon the rack to dry before the growing flames.

 Her eyes peer down with subtle curiosity, soaking in every inch of skin she reveals. “My my my. You ARE in a state.” Her eyes search your face with a tilting head and narrowing eyes. “Are you at that time again?” With another look she mumbles aside, “you certainly smell it.”

“Oh stop it.” You chide waving dismissively at her, arm laying over your eyes. Hiding away from her for a brief respite. If you could shield yourself from Dís’ attractiveness perhaps you could make it. Perhaps you could forget how her illuminated blue eyes pierce your soul. Or how she's back lit by the warm fire making her dark brown hair all but burn with a halo of fire.

 Given her body's state that metaphor was all too appropriate. All too deep. 

 Oh Dís. What did you know of Dís? Not enough. Her body told stories you could decipher: fire, war, grief, and agony. When she wasn't aware you were looking or, sometimes, even awake you witnessed the pain in her gaze upon the hearth. 

There is nothing profound about pain.

It simply is.

It isn't beautiful or holy. It isn't dark or sinful.

It simply is. 

It is to be witnessed and honored. 

It's why you had saved and commissioned a metal barrier between the hearth and the world. Saying nothing of it.  Not even when she looked at it and complimented it- her way of subtly asking for an explanation. 

You couldn't heal Dís from fire. But you could put something between her and the heat for her nocturnal visits. 

“Is it?” She repeats. Her hot fingers provoke restrained breaths and instinctively your hips shift. “That time?” To be as sensitive and raw as your body felt meant one thing: ovulation. The few days when you were on edge with need above all else.  Now that she is in your life? You wanted her with ardent hunger. 

Your legs clench trying to hide how wet you had become from your kissing. From the two of you curling against one another while your lips press and play. But beneath her molten gaze your legs slowly fall open, unraveling beneath her touch.

 “Dís?” Whispering her name in askance, curiosity  raises your brow.  

“How would you like something nice?” Dark hair falling over her shoulder, you exchange lust glazing stares. Her lower lip tugs beneath her teeth. 

You nod hiding a bashful smile. It begins slowly, with her fingers massaging your mons. 

Her orbiting touch melts you against the blanket. Head resting back again merely admiring her and the heat she was building in your body. “I like that.” You murmur huskily, your fingers trail up and down her spine. Enjoying the tremble that accompanies the soft tease.

  “Would you like that?” You ask. Your fingers on her scarred skin may feel faint. Burns. Nerve damage. But there's one place you've found where the skin on her spine is untouched. When you stroke your finger along that line of pink skin Dís always inhales sharply. The gentle tease that sends lightning through her body. 

She nods, fingers teasing your curls with admiring brushes and skimming presses against your mons. Smirking when your hips involuntarily flex back then rise. Rising to her. Pursuing her touch.

 “Dís.” Her name leaves your lips like spring thunder. Your eyes soak her in. Dirt taking in the sudden torrent of water, the power of her washes over you. You held a deep appreciation for the storm of her. 

 Her lips quirk into a sly smile upon her face. “Follow my lead?”

“Unfortunately for you? I always will.” You assure watching her with hormone drunk eyes. She could lead you off a cliff and you would follow. Slipping your fingers again into the side slit of her tunic until you find the sparsely dappled hairs along her back. 

Already the anticipation is drumming up the heat in your body to an unbearable level. “Dís of the ravens, will your wonders ever cease?”

She says your name, right before she grabs you. Pulling you down the bed until your hips are beside her. Ignoring your gasp of confusion as you feel yourself slide over the soft blanket.  She tugs again, hoisting your lower body into her lap. Folding your knees against her opposite side. You obligingly prop up your top leg. Where Dís applies a generous rub to your lower leg, grazing every inch of skin on its way up to your heating core. 

Her opposite hand heavy on your side holding you steady, she mumbles “now stay in my lap. Do not fall.”

An affirming mumble breaks free just as her palm rests against where you ached for her the most. 

“You want me here?” Her teasing inquiry comes with a skim of her palm over your folds. Loving how exposed you were like this. How you lay pliant for her with only strained sighs and a singular flex of your hips indicating how heavy your desire was. 

Your eyes meet hers, curled against her you raise her tunic. Pressing your hand against her lower back. Watching her skin coat with goosebumps. “First. Take this off.”

She obliges, stiffly placing it beside her, before she returns to you.. Something flashing in her eyes when you look upon her. Smaug's gifts lay blatantly clear upon her entire body. 

“Dís?” You call to her heart, running your hand up the back of her arm. 

Her gaze upon her finger which drags circles around your slit. Edging ever closer. “Mm?”

 You feel her fingertip coming closer and closer. Your body shivers with each rotation with your skin rising from the grave. Releasing a pent up sigh. Your eyes close. Deciding how to word the feelings in your heart. You settle upon the simplest and truest one's. It's only then that you open your eyes again. 

Glancing back to her.  “I am glad you are here.” Here tonight. Here alive. The double meaning drifts on the warming air. 

They way her eyes drift to your's speak volumes. She understands what you are saying. 

“Tell me about your day.” Dís prompts calmly, watching her own work with a pleased smile. Admiringly studying how your hips jerk when her finger grazes certain places. How you glisten in the warm light, only growing more aroused with every passing rotation. 

“My day? What of yours?” You inquire. Your finger traces her name along her back. Then each soft name you had for her. One by one until your hand snatches away as Dís finger presses inside you. 

Your hips press against her. Spasming around her finger, you throatily moan her name. Eyes fluttering closed as you feel your body mold around her. Loving how she fills you. 

Sighing you swallowing louder noises as her finger delves deeper. Knuckle passing all the way in. Sending your back arching and your eyes momentarily rolling, “oh, Dís.”

“Mmhmm?” She hums pleasantly. “How was your day?” She asks again, eyes fixated on how her finger delves in and out of you. Thrilling when you clench her finger and then needily pull her in. She waits until you open your mouth to answer, and then and only then does she crook her finger. 

You release a short husky gasp. Your opposite hand clutches the blanket. She loves it. Loves watching your responses to her touch. She speaks your name, prompting a response to her question.

How could you answer when she was a finger deep inside you?! Knuckles deep inside you. Stroking your gummy ceiling until she comes upon your most sensitive spot. Tingles of desire shoot through you over and over. “Dís….” Your face tenses and twists enduring wave after wave, voice shaking.

“How was your day?” She repeats again, playing a mutual game now. Thoroughly satisfied with how loud your soaking core sounds around her thick finger. Adoring how you were falling undone, watching you struggle to keep a straight face. Whenever you open your mouth to answer? Her finger presses hard enough that you cry out.

“Feeling better? You're certainly holding tight to me.” She chuckles, stirring her finger inside you now. Enjoying how you squirm and tremble with every single one. How each rotation pulls sound after sound from each part of you. 

“Yes!” You rasp burying your face against the blanket. “Yes, so much.” Just the echo of your voice and body builds her high. Watching your toes curl and your hips quiver pleases her to no end.  

She hums curiously, peering down at where you spasm around her finger. “I reckon I could fit a second in you.” Her gleaming blue eyes glide to you, a devilish smirk upon her lips. “Do you want another?”

Clenching around her finger at the thought,you barely register reality. All you can do is rapidly nod. Blinking back tears of pleasure at how good you felt. How accurately Dís stroked the embers of your hearth. 

Her second finger joins the first, stretching you. Filling you. The action catalyzed a cry of surprise-surprise at how sudden the pleasure of it hits you. Surprised by how good it felt. 

Tears leak from the corner of your eyes. “Dís!!” Choking back whimpers, your fingers dig into the blanket. Clawing for stability all while her fingers delve in and out. Each one punctuated by a needy cry. 

 Once.

Twice.

Thrice.

Panting heavily into the bed your body tightly clenches her within your spasming core. Each passing second of your climax sends you careening off into another spiral. 

Her fingers? Not stopping. Your trembling? Not stopping. Your pitiful whimpers and moans? Growing louder. Your wet sounds heat your face. 

Only Dís could bring this out of you. You only felt this comfortable with her. Her playfulness only revealed in the safety and circumstances she deemed worthy. 

Her hand is still holding your hips firm in place, denying you any retreat or movement necessary to sate yourself. "Listen to the noise you're making around my fingers.” She shakes her head with a patient smile, “you just can't get enough of me. Such a wonder for my self esteem.” She jokes, her finger alternating between stroking your walls and pumping in and out.

“Your self esteem!?” A laugh breaks through a strangled moan. Cracking open an eye, you watch her face. “Your self esteem is FINE!” Biting back another whimper. “YOU do this to me.” You rasp, licking your lips. Enjoying how the angular planes catch the light and her lips twist in satisfaction as your hips jolt involuntarily. 

“No, no.” She corrects calmly, gathering you back up.  Enjoying how soft you are in your thighs and hips. Exhaling strongly in anticipation of more tending to you. More ideas percolate in her mind. Her eyes cast down to you, calling your name. “ Don't move. Tonight? I am taking care of you.”

Aka: this was almost a Grór fic LOL

Political

Signing up for the job had been easy. Doing the job resulted in hours on a horse, getting covered in whatever turf you were on, and dealing with temperamental immature politicians. Being a messenger was exhausting. It was horrible standing by listening to powerful people bicker about things more solve-able in a pub than on a political floor. 

But there was one merciful bright spot. The Dwarven Kingdoms. They were polite! Clean! Courteous! Never shouted! And best of all ? Delivering to them came with a chaperone!

You would die for Siv. You once saw him take off a bandit's head with his bare hands. Horrifying, yes. Useful? Also yes!  He out drank everyone at every pub you stopped at. The two of you easily won every drinking game, hauling in spare change which was evenly split.

But most importantly Siv got you access to the Dwarves. Dwarves were as you knew incredibly secretive and as you found out absolutely did not want human mitts on their precious communication. 

Your king however was an ornery bastard and demanded a human. To be blunt: he was racist. To be elaborate: everyone wanted him dead but he was so evil even after five poisonings this year he was STILL up and walking around. 

“He's made a deal with some force I cannot name. I swear to you, Siv. He will be the death of us all.” You groaned, head in your hand as he led you down a maze of stone corridors. Familiar yet unnavigable. Usually your sense of direction was impeccable. But down here? You could barely navigate a singular hall let alone follow directions.

He smacked your back with a hearty laugh, sending your body lurching forward. “YOUR death maybe! Not mine! My king? Would never let me die. Yours?” His barking laughter dissolved into chest shaking wheeze. “Oh you would already be dead six times over if it wasn't for me!” 

“Yes. Yes and you know I appreciate you, dearly.” You grumble shoving at his arm to no avail as you finally see a familiar door.

The advisor's office. Pulling up you retrieve the correct scroll from your person. “ I will get you an extra ale tonight as a thank you.”

He shakes his head, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Oh no.” Leaning over you he pounds on the door. “You? My friend? Will be occupied.”

“What?” You ask, eyes widening. Only growing saucer sized when Siv turns on his heel and books it down the hall. Uncharacteristic giggles trailing after him. “Siv!!” You hiss worry mounting. What had he done?! Oh Valars? What? Had? He? Done?

The sound of the door snaps your attention back and a mask of detached professional facade returns. The reason for your concern? 

She stood before you. She because she told you so. The advisor herself was statuesque. Impenetrable. Graceful and elegant. Everything she did issued gravitas and authority. 

Greeting her with a bow you trail after her. Distracting yourself with the decor: a personal favorite. It kept your eyes from lingering upon her hands. Fingers that should be formed from marble. Immaculate and strong. Defined and never once did you see them falter.

Taking her seat she reads over the message. Fingers drumming. Her sharp manicured nails play off the arms of her wooden chair. “This will need time to respond to.” She abruptly announces sending you jumping. “Something the matter?”

Shaking your head sternly, you clear your throat. “No! No, nothing at all.” Everytime you met her in all these months she had been the most intimidating and magnetized thing in the halls. Nothing could distract you as thoroughly as she did. 

Her lips moving as they were right now? Untouchable by any force.  You could watch them all day! 

Nothing caught your attention and enmeshed you so completely than how her stain coated lips formed words. Which became sentences. Which became something you were supposed to be listening to right now, isn't it?!

“Beg pardon?” You repeat trying your best to look sincerely apologetic. Like you weren't getting lost in her luscious pigment. How did it stay so bright? Was there special makeup here?

A twitch ripples over her mouth. Her eyes nettle into you. “I was remarking how refreshing it was, to have a competent and cordial messenger from your king.”

Baring your teeth you inhale sharply. Ah shit!

“Perhaps you are tired and need to rest. Or,” her voice trails off disappointedly. “Perhaps you are not as competent as I was given the impression of.”

“I apologize, my lady. I was just admiring how wonderful your makeup was and became engrossed in the finery of your craftspeople.” You praise laying it on thick. Keeping a sheepish expression you hoped would distract her from the real reason you were staring at her lips. 

Kissing her began invading your mind after your fourth meeting. By the seventh you were gushing drunk about her to Siv causing him quite the dilemma, you're sure.

Wait. Had Siv??!!

 Brows furrowing upon the stone carvings above the desk you open your mouth to inquire about your favorite dwarf when she interrupts you.

“Very well.” Standing she paces over to retrieve another scroll from a pile made strictly for communication with humans. Humans used scrolls. They were stupid in the opinion of many other denizens of middle earth. But you had no control over your Kings preferences.

If you did? You would prefer him dead.

 “We do have the response to the trade agreement.” She joins you, holding out the scroll. Her eyes bore holes into your soul. “You may return with that now.”

Grasping the leather case you move to take it from her hand. It doesn't budge. Like a wave washing over cliffside debris the inertia passes over her without consequence. Your power yields no result.

A smile and narrowing eyes breeze over her carefully controlled features. Something casts a dark shadow beneath the surface. Something you cannot place. 

 Frowning at her hand you try again. 

“What game is this?”  Glancing to her in askance, your brow arches and you give another tug. 

She doesn't release it. Instead she snatches it with ease from your grasp. Turning on her heel she returns to her desk. Standing behind it like columning pillars of basalt.  Tapping the case against her dark stained lips she easily remarks, “do you recall the fee for delivering a message from our halls?”

Scowling your hands fold behind your back. Maintaining proper posture in the presence of such an esteemed Dwarf, “I do not recall this. What fee would there be for the messenger?” Did Siv set you up for a joke? Wheels churn in your mind while you search for any hints why you yourself would have to foot a fee.

Not your king?

Hatred ran deep. A bitter seed. But you were not prepared to tend a crop tainted with malice. If there was a fee you would have to foot it and hide the idea of it. Otherwise it could result in catastrophic consequences.

 Circling back, your head tilts. Eyes narrowing upon her in askance. Not uttering a word. It was unfair to you. Not something you would have anticipated from the just Dwarves. 

Not something you would expect from her. 

But as she turns back a smirk has replaced her normally aloof expression. Now as she circles back around to stand before you,  different feelings churn in your stomach. You had passed her messages for the last seven months. Never had there been a fee. 

But there had been a feeling. 

A spark you discounted  as one sided due to her formal attitude in your presence. While not as formal in the same ways humans were, she was still held in high regard. This was the first time you were seeing anything other than a serious expression on her hue stained lips. Head tilting you squint at her.

Her and her scroll tapping against her mouth while she sizes you up. “It is an important message. We need insurance so it arrives safely.” She languishes on every word. Drawing it out and you in. 

Frown deepening your head drops to something more boring. Your mud covered boots made for a reasonable accommodation against the seduction you were becoming certain was taking place. But maybe you were making things up.

Maybe the road had indeed been too long and the rain too heavy. 

Perhaps the isolation of it all-save for Siv bless him- had you losing it completely. 

Gleaming eyes remain glued to your features. She tsks, using the end of the scroll case to tilt your face back towards her. Keeping it just there, beneath your chin, she lets out a low smokey hum. “I think a kiss will do.” She declares lips curving into a wide smile.

Eyes widening you're suddenly aware of how dry your mouth has grown over the last few minutes. How loud your heart beat beneath your ribs. Could she hear it? Certainly she could. Especially with the way her eyes watch your lips move. 

Studying her face for any messages hidden within her anticipation filled squint.Had she really just said that?! Incredibly juvenile! Not something you expected nor imagined from a Dwarf. Surely this was a trick to test your professionalism. The slow inhales she took with every passing moment of silence you held her trapped in. Encased in amber she waited. Patiently. Biding her time until your brain caught up to your mouth.

Lips pursing you finally manage, “if the message is so important,” you slowly begin, prodding the topic with the edge of your boot. “Why is it one kiss?”

Mirth fills her gaze and her smirk curves wider. Tracing your lips with her eyes she continues her bartering, “perhaps you are right. Two kisses may suffice as payment?”

What?!

Swallowing anticipation, your breath hitches despite your rational mind clinging to the vestiges of reality. Her fragrance wafting into your lungs in delicious whisps pushes you hurtling over the edge. She smelled SO good.  “Hmm, I wonder if that is high enough? The way is quite dangerous after all. I wouldn't want to waste your time.”

Whipping the scroll case out of the way she closes the distance. Now chest to chest you're blindsided all over again. Her voice practically purrs. “ I don't mind wasting my time on you.”

She's a masterpiece, her features as sharp as her mind. As sharp as her nails. One of which grazes up your neck in one languid motion stirring all sorts of impulses from the depths of your being. 

“Accurate. As always. Why don't we find out how many it's worth?” She posed her face coming closer and closer until you're meeting her. 

Tentatively you hover. Her breath fans your lips. Wondering if she was going to close the gap. Or if she meant you to do so. Her body heat beckoning you nearer. Until you were completely wrapped in her. But could you? 

Was it too late for second thoughts?

Too late when your lips press to one another in a whispering caress. Languidly you sample each other. Your chest hitches when her hand catches your cheek. Her thumb rubbing along your cheek tenderly supporting your deepening dives. 

Hums of appreciation meet your soft sounds, they only grow when your hands rest upon her cloak. The thick fabric forming the perfect anchor for you to use under the onslaught of pleasant smells and tastes. And when you pull her lower lip into your mouth and tug? She moans tremulously low.

Pulling back her eyes are heavy with satisfaction. Again her fingers stroke your face. “You consider that a kiss?”She cooes low, a delightful chuckle leaves her sending your toes curling.

 “Try to keep up.” Her lips capture yours in a rougher embrace. A kiss that provokes a surprisingly loud moan. Your knees lock with each ravishing stroke of her lips and the biting tug on your tongue. 

Bodies swaying and pulling against one another in a symphony of sounds. Again and again you kiss. Lips reuniting over and over.  Vividly recalling every time you had stood before her and wondered: just how would she kiss? Now you knew. The brushing of her lips and tongue incites lines of pleasure rippling through you.  You succumb completely, throwing your arms round her neck. Hand in her hair. Fingers plucking out every ornament that held it up. Only to crush yourself against her lips.

Now she led the dance. Now you struggle to keep up with the intense passion she let loose. Had she wanted you? Did she just enjoy this type of kiss? Your hitching breath turns to panting against her lips. Noses bump and rub. Mingling against each other your foreheads rest together. Sharing breath and relieved laughter forging the sacred space between you. Her eyes half open gaze into yours. 

“Finally.” You murmur your hand curling along her face. Chest burning with an unmentionable emotion when she turns and nudges your hand. Her beard brushes along your palm. But all too soon it was silenced by another devouring kiss.

Sooner rather than later you were stumbling with her towards the desk. Where she guided you against the edge. Pinning you against it with her body, provoking a heavy moan and your head to twist away.  Catching your breath your eyes meet hers with heady weight.

Her eyes study your face. Hands gripping the edge of the desk on either side of your hips. “Did you like that?” Ducking forward she grazes her lips along yours, “I did.” Her tongue slips out, licking her own lips in a devastating tease.

“ I did as well.” You confirm transfixed by her tongue's path over her shining wet lips. Well aware you were becoming stained from her lips. 

Her laughter falls like a sudden summer rain. Loud. Raucous. Deep. One you wouldn't mind getting caught in again and again. Heavy and rhythmical it strokes your affection for her. “Enough to try again?” She inquires tilting her head to one side as she studies your face, affection softening her sharp eyes. 

 Fascinated by the tingling in your swollen lips, your fingers run over them. Coyly glancing over her mouth, which despite waning with their glossy stain remained a beautiful shade. Hypnotized by her it takes you a moment to gather yourself. Suddenly feeling just how small you were compared to her muscular form. “Try?” You repeat breathlessly, worry nagging beneath lust. Worried you couldn't treat her as she should be. 

She nods. “You must relax. You're so tense, should you relax more it would increase your pleasure.” Fleetingly her hand adjusts your hair style, ensuring she can see your face unobscured. “I only want what's best for you.”

Your fingers interlace with hers, tugging them close so you may pepper her fingers with gentle kisses. Each one a raindrop on the surface of her skin. Each one intentionally placed with admiration and appreciation. 

“Considerate, as always. I would like to continue if you do?” Peering at her, your inquiry seems welcome. Her hand slipping from yours returns to your hip. Where it perches heavily. Skimming along the fabric there. A small relieved puff of air soars from her nose.   

“I do. Now this time: relax.” Grasping you she sits you up on the desk with uncanny ease. Her voice hot against your ear as she leans against you, “and let me kiss you.”

Parchment slides and crumbles beneath you as she presses you back onto the desk. Her body flush against your hips, bending over you pursuing your tongue. The crisp sound of paper ripping mingles with the sound of her above you. 

Your hands tangle in her hair. Instinctively your legs rise to rest upon her. A move that provokes an appreciative growl, her hand snakes back to clutch your thigh in a firm squeeze. Never once abating from your kiss. Your legs squeeze her harder- as hard as you could. It barely makes an impact on her body, but her drive is another matter entirely. 

Moans and breath mingle between you. When it comes to entanglement nothing compares to her. You could roll with her all day. Her body pressing down upon you makes the knot in your stomach tighter and tighter. Your legs twitch and your hips twist in need. Parts of you were winding tight while others melted into putty. You were malleable in her hands. Completely laxed beneath her. 

She parts from your kiss, gazing down at you as your head falls back provoking another crumbling noise of shifting papers. “I didn't think to clean my desk earlier.” She snorts indignantly, but pleased with the events. “But I don't mind working after hours for you.”

Catching your breath, you shake your head. “You are incorrigible. Unbelievable.” You add watching her rise back up, her hand sliding into her pocket.

“Don't lie. You love it.” She hums, retrieving a small tin of stain, her fingertip trailing the color back over her swollen lips. 

Mesmerized your eyes stick to her finger and do not unglue themselves. Instead of remaining prone you begin sitting up yourself, only for her hand to catch your chest. “We aren't finished here.” Pressing you back upon the desk her devious smile flips your stomach and dries your throat. 

Coating her finger in stain she leans back over you. Humming pleasantly while she jovially and sensually drags her hue covered finger over your lips. Staining you the same color. 

Standing back up she observes her work. A clean finger tapping her chin thoughtfully. “My, that color does look good on you.” She praises, her finger wiped dry and the tin placed safely away.  

Face warm from the intimacy of it all you swallow. Tentatively your fingers run over your lips, peering at the residual color upon your skin.

“Oh, but you can't leave like that. Everyone will know.” Breezing by she wets a handkerchief and returns. Wiping your cheeks and neck clear of stain.

Blustering you swat at her, “excuse me?”

Admiring her second piece of work a pleasant smile plies her dark lips. “Oh you are excused. I will see you with his response.” She informs, retrieving the scroll case once more, passing it to you. But this time she allows you to pull it from her hand. 

“Of course." Your fingers brush along hers in a familiar caress. It had happened countless times. Each and every one of them you disregarded. But how long had she been feeling something? Leaving your seat on the desk you begin straightening your clothing. 

Had she felt something? Or was this all a political game for her? Looking to her you find her face controlled and icy again. Confusion mixes with doubt. You needed a drink to sort this out….

A drink and a good night sleep at the Inn in town. 

 Composing yourself with a deep breath you begin making your way to the heavy wooden door. Trying to clear your mind of the hormonal fog. You're halfway to the door when a sound behind you stops you cold.

Footsteps. Hers.

 Just as you turn to check on her, her hand grapples around your wrist. In a vice she is tugging you backwards against her. Wrist held fast pinned to your back.

“I lied,” she whispers huskily against your ear. “It wasnt enough.” Her body presses against your back. Still holding your wrist between the two of you. You are intimately aware of every inhale and exhale. 

“It wasnt?” Hesitating you take the gamble, that she isn't playing. Venturing quietly, “it wasnt enough for me, either.”  Instinctively you tense while she takes a deep whiff of your hair. Her exhale pulls a shudder and a soft hitching gasp breezes through your lips. One that only feeds her lust and builds your expectations.

Pressing against your ear she asks, “may we?”

It takes you a solid minute to process what was happening. To process the feelings rushing through your body and mind. For all of them to align in a neat manner. “ I would like that.” Arching back against her, you tentatively rub your hips along her body. 

The tease works and your hand is freed. But not for long. Her arms snake beneath yours, taking a handful of each side of your chest. Soaking in the feeling of your body melting. She steps forward keeping herself flush against your back. At first her hands just held. But then she begins palming and rolling you through your clothes. 

Each rotation sends you biting back a sigh or a ghosting moan. Concentrating with all your might on remaining still- not giving in to your bodies urge to roll your hips and whimper for her. “I like that. Alot.” You rasp. Biting your lower lip harshly when her nail drags over your hardened nipple poking through the fabric of your top. 

Her breath falls in satisfying puffs against your ear. You can feel her smile pressed against your cheek. Every shudder that ripples through you makes her grin widen. When her nail incites a louder gasp she presses a kiss against your ear. “You really liked that, hm?”

“Yes!” Your body alight and alive beneath her hands. Especially when she began plucking button after button. One by one sliding everything aside until your chest is bare. Her hands press and pinch your chest. Each roll of her palm incites a rise in your body. A soft jerk of your hips and a murmur of approval. 

“Still alright?” She clarifies pausing until you answer. Waiting for approval.

Chewing your lip you nod. “Yes, more than alright. Don't stop.”

“ We stop anytime you wish.” She promises against your ear, working you low and slow. “This is for us.” She swears.  Whispering seductive admirations against your neck with each kiss and trail of her tongue. The actions provoke needier whimpers to spill free, your head falling to the side allowing her room to play. 

Languidly one of her hand trails down the center of your exposed stomach. Taking its sweet time. The lower it goes the more tingling it incites in your body. The more your thighs rub together fighting arousal's discomfort.

Your restrained murmurs building with time. Rolls and rubs. Pinches and tugs. All heating you higher and higher. You were becoming desperate for her hand to travel faster. Desperate for her to continue playing with your chest.

“You're so ready, sweet thing.” She laughs pleasantly, fondness seeping into her tone when she tacks on. “I can smell you from here.”

Involuntarily you're whimpering her name in a whine you've never heard before. You never want to hear it again unless it's because of her. Clenching your thighs together seeking a semblance of release, realizing just how right she was. 

It wasn't fair how she provoked this side of you so easily. In the back of your mind you hope she's just as riled. Hope she's just as strung tight in her stomach as you are.

Her fingers toy with the hem of your pants, leaving a wake of heating skin. Over and over her hands play and tease. Succumbing to it all your hand wraps round her arm grasping tightly. Gasping lightly when her hands recede. Vanishing into her pocket she withdraws a pair of nail clippers, making easy work of her nails on one hand. 

Watching breathlessly as her hands meticulously manipulate the metal. Always you were caught on her hands. On her lips. They were always elegant and agile. Beautiful. You wanted them to stop just as much as you plead her to continue. “Are you?” Voice trailing off bashfully your eyes dart up to her.  Where they merge with hers, encompassed in the embrace of adoration you find there. She stares at you with such tenderness; such warmth. It's startling. 

“Am I what?” She prompts her hands splaying along your stomach. “Am I what? Hmm?” She purrs against your ear prompting you, “is there something you'd like to ask for?”

Would you like to ask for it? No. No you'd like her just to do it. But that's not how communication worked. “Are you going to touch me?”

She shrugs nonchalantly, giving you a light squeeze. “I want to. Do you? Want me to?” Her nose nuzzling the skin beneath your ear sending an amorous pulse straight to your heart. Her hands sink back below to tease your hemline. 

Yes! Yes!!!

 “Yes!!” It gushes out in a way that heats your face. Thinking about how you sounded like a horny bar patron than a professional. Then again, when one was encapsulated in such an embrace did profession really matter? Or was that all stripped away like her hand sliding beneath your hem. Diving under fabric after fabric.

Instantly your body rises meeting her. Flexing against her hand as she envelops you completely. Her fingertips pressing just there. Her palm on another ‘there’. Instinctively your body clenches. Your hand tightens upon her arm as a choke of pleasure echoes in the room. An unsightly hideous sound that came straight from your chest.

 And when she presses tightly against you?  Straight from a primal place another strangled moan emerges. “OH!” Breathing out her name, your body squirms impatiently needing her to move with a frenzied heat you'd never felt before.“ More.”

“Oh, more definitely.” She agrees with a laugh that could sell a soul to the highest bidder. Oh you loved her like this. 

Your eyes flutter just from rubbing against her palm. Biting your lip harshly stopping any more vulgar noises from escaping into her office. Your head falls back, surrendering completely to her touch.

“How about we play a game?” Her index and middle finger slide on either side of you. Taking you in with encompassing rubs that send your hips feverishly rocking against her. 

 Cracking your eyes open, squinting at her quizzically. “Game?” Panting between stumbling attempts at words. 

“Simple enough,” she chuckles brightly. “You bring me good news and I'll reward you.” Her finger finds your clit, and the pad of her finger presses upon it. Shooting sparking pulses through your legs. Leaving you stammering. Stammering on words destined to never reach completion, instead they die in a strained gasp. Biting your lip to muffle further pathetic sounds that threaten to break free.

 Her finger strokes down your core, savoring how wet and alive you are beneath her touch. “Bring me bad news, and, well,” with a loud squelch! her finger sinks inside your center. 

The gasp and moan that follow cover your face in heat, your knees give out completely. 

But your body runs hotter when she places a kiss upon your neck. “With your approval at that time: I  will play with you until I am satisfied. Deal?” Finishing her deal so considerately and consentingly with a golden tongue to match her jewelry. She could sell you anything and you'd buy it. She could say anything and you'd believe it. You were beyond help. 

Gasping you look at her in surprise, eyes widening by the moment. Unable to take her seriously, your nervous giggle turns her smile into a smirk. “Instead of killing the messenger you're-you're fucking them?” 

She could play with you and you would let it, because you wanted to play with her too. A mutual enjoyment of each other? A convenient excuse to explain the deal? 

 Your words provoke an unrestrained laugh. Her hand rubs you appreciatively sending your mind scrambling and your body shaking. “Mmm crass. But yes, far more fun and encourages message delivery, doesn't it?” She elaborates on every word with a languid swirl of her finger inside you. “Ensures you won't leave me in the dark with any bad news or ill wishes from your very temperamental king.”

She had a point. You were much less likely to decline delivering vital messages if you knew something like this was waiting for you. This wasn't a deal with the devil: it was a deal with desire. Desire for her. 

God you were an idiot when she had her hands on you! 

With her finger stirring inside you…..

 Your lip tugs into your mouth trying in vain to stifle the pitiful noises you were making. You wanted something with her. What you didn't know. But you wanted something. Was this that something? Thighs shaking around her touch. Your mind slowly blanking on everything except her finger. It sounds like a stranger speaks when you confirm. When you sign the proverbial contract. But it's you. It's you when you whimper: “yes, yes.” 

“I'm so glad we agree. I have been so happy with our time together. But you've consumed my heart. I've wanted no one but you. Can you understand that? How much I miss seeing you? Hearing you? And now?”

Her hug tightens around your shoulders, while she whispers sincerely against your skin. Words she had been holding back. Words she knows she cannot take back. They belong locked in the sacred hall of your heart now.  “Now, I can miss touching you when you are gone too.”

“I do-” you rasp tremulously. “I miss you. I do. All of you.”

Humming contently she places a kiss upon your neck. “Now, let's enjoy ourselves. Hmm?”

Time ticks by. Hours pass. Hours spent sealing a deal. Hours spent sitting and speaking in hushed tones. Hours spent pleasing her so thoroughly you couldn't forget it if you tried. 

But when you walk out of the door again it wasn't the last time….

📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜📜

“Good morning.” She greets her lips curving the moment the door closes behind you. Her assistant easily dismissed with a subtle nod the moment he swung the door open and found you there. 

It wasnt the first time. A pang of apology throbs in your chest while you watch him mutter, snatching up his pile of papers and flounce down the outer hall.

But you had gotten where you wanted to be and not without a great deal of effort either.

Locking the door you glance coyly over to her. Her lips remain in a tight line. Her eyes however are devouring. Walking over your hands fold, perching upon the desk. Peering down at her with a sultry smile.  “Good morning, love.”

Humming low she slides her work from the desk without turning her eyes from you. Blatantly looking you up and down. “Look who it is, and look what youre wearing! To think I thought you couldn't become more adorable! ” Appreciation burns in her eyes. “I admit only this once: I was incredibly wrong.”

Hungrily her bright eyes take you in beneath her lashes. These aren't your regular uniform clothes. Her fingers drum against her ornate desk, nails clicking on the rock slab top.  “Off duty I see. Did you get lost shopping?”

“Oh, I did. Very lost.” Head tilting your fingers, mirroring hers, drumming the same lazy rolling melody. Biding your time before you drop your line in the water. “Can you help me?” it's corny. It's kidding. It's a thousand times worth seeing her face morph. 

Eyes wide incredulously, she shoves her quill aside. “Can I?” Her brows rise repeating with fake indignance, sounding out the words as if they are foreign to her.  “Help you?”

“Mmm hmm.” Dropping your line of vision down her body meaningfully. Mouth drying by the second remembering how it felt to taste her.

 How she tasted on your tongue and lips, her hand holding back your hair. The breathless sighs and soft grunts accompanying her trembling thighs against your head. Your chin coated in her.  Even the smell and crack! of wood splintering remains in your ears.

 “I see you have a new chair. Have to replace it, did you?”

Both of you dwelling in the same memory in that moment. Neither of you reaching for the door. Instead with mingling minds, she closes the curtains obscuring you both from view. This was a private affair. No one needed to know why she replaced such a fine chair. Or how it had become broken in such a way. 

She had to. Because she had broken the arms of it after your tongue had delved just right too many times. You can still hear her succulent rasp, “you're unbelievably good at that.”

 It had been worth everything. You had spent countless minutes gazing up at her, head resting on her lap completely entranced.  Watching her chest rise and fall while she basked in the afterglow. Your hand rubbing up and down her leg soothingly.

A cocky smile bites at the corner of your mouth with the memory. 

She let's out a barking laugh, eyes slitting to yours brimming with amusement. She shifts in the chair. “I did do some redecorating, yes.” 

By the second her eyes are darkening upon your lips. Lips you already had stained in her color. A twin fragrance to match hers. 

Removing her hand from her chin she beckons you with a rolling hand lazy and elegant. Just like her. “Come sit and tell me how you came to be here.” Spreading her legs she pats her lap with an audible sound, “all dressed up and no where else to go? What a shame.” 

Circling around you take your seat upon her lap, arms wrapping around her neck. A breathy whisper sails against her ear,  “hello sweet heart.” Appreciatively you nuzzle against her hair, satisfaction and peace fill you. 

Finally you feel right. From here? The rest of the world could burn and you wouldn't give it a second look, if only you could watch it crumble to ashes with her. 

“Hello to you, couldn't keep away could you?” She sighs pleasantly, wrapping her arms around you in a solid embrace. Loving how you melt into her so willing and soft. Safe. 

“Mm didn't want to.” You correct twisting her hair round your fingers loving how thick and plush it was. So different from human hair. Yet similar enough in texture and form to not be foreign. Tilting your head you ask quietly with great trepidation. “ Are we breaking this chair too?” 

Chuckling she shifts you in her lap, closer and tighter. Her hand rubbing the small of your back in appreciative circles. “No. No, I'm ready for you this time.”  Gazing upon you her smug smile softens, “especially in a skirt this cute and this top?” Grousing she shakes her head mournfully. “ Oh, you are leaving me no choice.”

Shaking your head you curtly inform her of the devastating reality, “ I don't have extra clothes.” You couldn't afford a repeat of the last time when she took a knife to them. 

Complaining the whole time her finger swirled inside you about how cheaply made your clothes were. Informing you she'd get you longer lasting ones. She had followed through: the clothes were far better. But it had lengthened your stay a dangerous amount of time for her discretion. 

“This fabric? It won't last another year.” Disappointedly her head shakes, tone grave she adds with a bristle. “What I wouldnt give to expand our territories to yours simply to increase the quality of production.”  

Gathering up the ends of your skirt she toys with the hem between her fingers. “Such a shame. But! You broke my chair so I destroyed your clothing. I shall destroy them again, or your loyalty. Whichever comes first.”  Her eyes slide to yours with a playful sheen. But you can't help but question whether she means them or not.

Yet whether she did she made everything so good you didn't care. Maybe she didn't either. Care that is; about your clothes, time, consequences, and yes, possibly you.  

“No, you could never break my loyalty to you.” You reassure brushing along her bearded jaw with the back of your hand. Adoringly staring into her sharp clear eyes. 

Leaning into your touch her eyes flit closed, cherishing the moment. Even while she's pushing up the fabric of your skirt, baring more and more of your leg. “Is that a challenge?”

Huffing with laughter your lips graze her cheek. She was cute when she peeled back the layers. When she settled in and allowed you in. One layer after another you would see more and more of her. One layer after another you would witness her.

Shaking your head your hands undo fastening after fastening upon her clothing. “No, sweetheart, let us not tempt fate.” Prying through layer after layer. Curse these dwarves and their adoration of layers and fastenings. Finally you could slide your hand inside her top, skimming along her soft chest dappled with hair. 

“Another challenge couldn't hurt.” She proposed taking your chin between her thumb and finger. Turning your face towards her. Her lips ghost softly over yours. Cherishing how your hand runs over the breadth of her. 

You sigh wistfully at the masterful test of your patience. Watching her beneath half closed eyes, your hand gives her softening pec a gentle squeeze. Biting your lip, you watch her shoulders rise and fall with a slowed exhale. 

 “You are temptation personified.” You sincerely compliment. 

“And are you going to fall to me?” She inquires breathlessly. Her nose bumping against your own when she darts closer once more. You don't allow her to escape this time. Playful talk is silenced by mingling lips and running hands. 

Her palm groping your now exposed thigh like it was her full time job. Laughing into the kiss with every squeal she wrings from you.

Your lips latch onto hers while you applied for  a position here yourself. Hands cupping her cheeks, adoring how her jaw flexes beneath your mutual exploration of each other's mouths. 

Tugging her lower lip into your mouth you suck sharply and greedily. Enjoying the plump fullness of it and the lewd moan that breezes past her lips. Thrilling at how her mouth was smearing with your shared color.

Twisting away, her hand rests on your throat, holding you still for a moment's rest. Gaze dark with lust, a beast barely restrained and ready to play. “I love hearing you, this time don't stay quiet.” Her chiding reminder takes you to the very first time. 

When she only stopped squeezing your breast to pry your hand away from your mouth. Her tongue buried inside you, lapping against you. Gathering and tasting you until all you could do was tremble and writhe. The praise you had been lavishing her with falling away to urgent moans. Her opposite hand holding you closer each time you tried to retreat.

 All the while her eyes stared up at you, glinting in the dying candle light. She held you caught. Tight. Trapped. Only breaking from your center to praise you, “ I love how you sound. Don't hold it in, at least, not for my sake.” Then she's back. Back down and in. The flame had died that day but another blazed far brighter and hotter. With the room plunged in darkness all you could make out was her illuminated eyes between your legs. Gold and gleaming. She was everything. Knowing and feeling her that intimately. That deeply? Changed everything. 

Doubt succumbed to its injuries and another emotion far more dangerous was to blame. 

Hips shifting at the memory you whimper. Needing to release pent up heat. Needing her to release you. Release you by holding you closer and tighter. 

Letting you in beneath the layers of her. Emotional intimacy was the highest form of love.  “I don't want you in trouble.” You inform, running a hand along her arm in a tantalizing rub. “Your safety is worth more to me than this.”

“Not to me,” she assures with impressive ease. Moving a mountain of weight with the simple words, “not if it's you.”

She always knew the right thing to say. Always had. Your eyes meld with her, fusing souls for this short lived moment in a sea of memory. There in the depths you catch glimpses of her. Each fleeting glimmer of scales or flash of a smile made the tumultuous sea worth it. Even with sea water tanging in your lungs she was worth every mile of open water.

As if sensing the growing seriousness she latches onto your neck, sharp teeth scraping down your skin. Leaving an excited path of goosebumps in her wake. 

“Come here.” Dramatically her hand tugs down the top of your top, pushing your breasts over your neckline. Keeping them up for her enjoyment. For your pleasure. 

 Before she can take her pick you shift up. Peaks rubbing against her face provoking a hungry growl. “Tempting me.” She playfully warns her fingers grasping higher, her mouth running over hardening nubs. Enjoying the soft gasps and sighs that you release with each motion. Squeezing closer and closer to where you ran hot for her.

Face molten you swallow. Beneath her hand lay a growing wet spot. You were so wet just from kissing her. Just from the encounter.  Just from the walk here fantasizing and remembering her succulent moans and lush body.

“I am helping us finish.” Your retort comes husky and soft against her hair, “ before you get caught.”

“Getting caught? That makes this all the more fun.” She murmurs pressing kisses along the tops of your breasts. “ Can be enjoyable- getting caught. But it's not a matter of concern for us, slow down. Let us enjoy the moment.” 

 Every single kiss elicits a hitching breath, your hands grasping her head holding her close. Your own head falling back allowing her more room to play on rarely touched sensitive skin. Feeling her hot tongue and mouth exploring your skin leaves you shaking. Her name pours from you with wanton pleasure. Adjusting your hips to flush against her body.

 She maneuvers you with ease, latching her lips onto your throat without hesitation. Leaving a line of blooming bites down. As time passes she gifts a necklace upon your chest. Soft huffs and moans scorch your skin during her play. She only leans back  once, blowing cool air over your thrilling skin. 

Laughing low and smokey, she sighs contently. Her eyes trace languid trails along your face and then down down down your body. An index finger takes meandering journeys up and down your thigh. 

“Tell me; what do you want?” She purrs softly against you , her hand sliding to bare your body to her. Finding the evidence of your arousal seeping down your thighs and onto her. “You're making quite the trail, dripping like this.” Raising her finger to her lips she tastes you, eyes closing while your flavor coats her tongue. 

Eyes rolling at the view you shudder. “Get these clothes off and get on the floor.” You demand sliding to sit upon her desk. Shedding your own clothing while she stands and does the same. Layers of silky fabric falls to the floor and then she does.

Following her you kneel beside where she lay upon her back. Watching you with a lazy pleasant smile and a detectable flush over her body. 

“ I cannot stay away. Who would care for you, my love?” Admiring her soaking hairs, your hand ghosts along her exposed slit. Relishing how she shivers beneath the smallest touch. “You are so beautiful and powerful. I wish I could tell you every day.” Your murmured compliment etches a bashful smile across her wet swollen lips. Only at times like this did she become coy, her boldness stripped away in such a vulnerable position.

Spreading her legs, she rocks back, pulling one knee to her chest while the other foot rests against the floor. Holding the back of her knee presenting you with the opportunity to join her in a favorite position. One that always treats you both so well. So thoroughly devastated your rational mind silencing any whispers of second thoughts or doubts. 

“Come here,” she instructs voice deep and husky. Her finger crooking until you abate and settle your hips above hers. Slinging one leg over her hips so you were diagonal over her core.

 You grasp her raised leg for support, whining at the first contact. Your heated tender folds rub against hers. Moaning her name you tug your lower lip into your mouth.

“Mm yes. Just like that.” She praises relaxing beneath your body, “You know how we like it.”

“Yes,” rocking against her, your eyes flutter shut. Your bodies melding against one another with every roll of your hips. Slick mingling together, building a sloppy mess between you. 

Her voice chokes on every raw moan and winded gasp. Tilting back her head gives you a view of her thick neck and manicured beard. The more she became undone the more masterpieces fell from her lips. 

Each sound had you craving more responses from her. The sounds of your bodies fill the room. Wet and succulent.

Her hand latches onto your thigh, clutching tightly. Steadying you as you pursued your mutual high. Each brush of her clit sent her trembling beneath you. Every contact becomes a brilliant stroke of pigment upon canvas. Inspiring you. Driving you with madness so soft it vacated your heart of anything else.

Succumbing to her your lips break with tumultuous moans. By the moment your legs feel weaker and weaker as pleasure begins seeping into your bones. She was in your very marrow. Every so often your wet clits would brush. The contact shoots strained lightning through your body. Unrestrained cries fill the room alongside the soaking wet sounds of mixing pleasures. 

She chokes on moans of pleasure, your name peppered between her raw whines. Brow creasing with each passing moment she endures the tower lust was building higher and higher. Every roll of your hips added another stone to its height.  Fully intending to topple it. This structure wasn't meant to last. It was built to fall.

Noticing how close she was you change techniques, rubbing your body in inciting circles over her raised bud. Luscious wet pushing her sensitivity higher, she stutters beneath you. 

Shielding her face with her arm she flexes her hips driving up against you. Coaxing you to go harder. Obligingly you lean your full body weight down, knowing she can take it with ease. Watching as her fingers clutch at the floor beneath her. Gossamer sweat coats her brow and heaving chest. Each rise of her hair frosted chest results in frail moans. Moans becoming increasingly breakable. 

You struggle to catch your breath,  motions turning feverish and rough. Her sounds encouragingly grow more frail and strained. Her hips roll upward in sharp jerks until she shatters beneath you. Squirming she releases a heightened cry. Her clit twitching and pulsing. Fingers gripping your leg harder, her nails biting along your skin only to tighten when you refuse to stop. She whimpers your name in askance. 

“You like this?” Gazing down upon her face sensually twisting and curving. Watching her body build and collapse gifts you confidence in leaps and bounds. Enough to keep going. Emboldened to please her.  

Rasping she nods, face scrunching with another pleasure provoking blow. “I love it. And you?” She twists her hips at an angle pushing you harder against her. “Do you like this? ” Fraily laughing when your hips lurch at the motion. It confirmed her question. “What you feel?”

“I always do. Always.” You affirm your mind going numb. Hot pleasure drips from her but your climax isn't what stops you cold. It's the next words out of her mouth.

“Do you want to feel even better?” She proposes with a suggestive purr, “I brought you something.”

Scowling at her you lean in thinking you misheard. “Beg pardon?”

“No, no. Begging isn't necessary. I want to give you the pleasure you deserve. Just as you take care of me. I take care of you.” Pushing herself up,she supports your shaking legs with a single arm. 

A single arm you hold tight to while your body returns to solid mass and not jelly. 

“Don't fall.” Noticing your trembling limbs she scoops you up with ease. Placing you upon her desk before her chair. 

“Thank you.” You appreciate the assistance and any excuse to be close to her. Curling up with her was the best experience of your life. Watching her quill glide a crossed a message for your king. Not even caring to read it. Or ask who decided what was said. No you loved laying upon her chest more. 

Tilting your head you watch her move about the office. Bringing out an item which you vaguely recognized. “Is that a-” you begin confusion mottled your features.

“It is but a toy one.” Taking you by your shoulders she rubs them generously. Gazing upon you with a deep hunger in her eyes. Fantasies play out on her face, “now. Where do I want you first?”

“The chair is fi-FIRST?!” You gawked at her. 

 Her eyes widen in surprise. “You only wish for one?”

Scratching your neck you shrug. Watching her take her usual seat the polished strap erect upon her lap. “No no it's just it'll be the first time with a toy one of… Those…. I don't know how tired it will make me.” 

Laughing low she shakes her head. “You can sleep whenever you wish. Are you ready?”

Looking between her and the head you swallow. Were you? Between your legs was an ache deep within. An animalistic desire for her to fill you. Gnawing your lip, your eyes return to hers. “I am.” Nervously your legs kick back and forth.

Dripping down those legs your readiness is growing more and more apparent. Leaning back on her chair she grasps your thighs,  relishing rubbing your skin. A ravenous expression grows in her eyes when you meet them. Instantly your face heats. 

“Don't be shy.” She murmurs, her fingers walking up your thighs until they clutch your hips. “Take a seat.” Her voice drops with innuendo along with her gaze to the strap. The smooth burnished surface shines beneath the light. 

Obligingly you follow her instructions. Settling over her lap. Gazes entwining you take a steadying breath. 

She kisses you soft and sweet. “Ready?” 

Licking your lips nervously, you nod. Slowly lowering yourself upon her. Biting your lip roughly when the surface touches your body. Your head ducking against her shoulder as the tip of her strap separates your folds. Hands gripping tightly as she stretches you. Her hands guiding you in. 

Her name is stammering from you in uncertainty at the stretch. The squelching sound your body makes heats your face.  White hot pressure fills your lungs, strained moans come with every exhale. 

Her hands keep tenderly guiding you, thumbs rubbing soothing circles along your ass and lower back. “That's it. You can stretch for me. I know you can.” She encourages duskily nuzzling against your cheek. Her lips peck kisses and sweet nothings, watching her strap disappear into your body. 

Clutching her shoulders you're overwhelmed by fullness within you. All your worries and thoughts drop away and suddenly it's just her. Her hands scalding your back, and the fullness inside you finally scratching that itch. This was so different from her finger stirring and pumping you to completion.

 Biting your lip hard, you allow yourself to settle completely upon her lap. Each moment left your body deliciously clenching and spasming. But you dare not move. You dare not cause any more movement while you adjust around her. 

“All in?” She asks, pressing a kiss against your ear, “ you are. That's good.” Coaxing your body to slack against her chest, her fingers running over/through your hair. “Let yourself adjust.” Her nails scrape down your body. Leaving an electrifying trail of goosebumps.

Cracking open your eyes you find your vision blurred. Head spinning. Whimpering her name, your head falls against her shoulder. Finally your legs clutch her sides, holding her close. Winded you finally bluster into her ear. “You feel incredible.” 

Her hands grasp your hips. Squeezing firmly, “now,  when you're ready: move.” She smoothly commands, adding a languid lick upon your neck. Tasting your sweat coated skin with a rich moan, she helpfully guides you.

Thighs trembling harshly against the pleasure over taking you with the first delve of your hips. Her name gushes from you. 

The second comes easier. Slowly and all at once your mind is overcome with need. Riding her with an ever building pace. Your body curves taking her deeper, your strokes growing faster.

Pressing another kiss against your lips, she softly hums. Pleased with how your hips begin fucking down faster upon her. Further delighted with the way your face changes and flushes. Even the bite of your nails upon her shoulders gives her a unique thrill. 

 Eyes screwing shut to maintain some semblance of control under the unabating ecstasy. Drawn out moans begin rupturing to punctured cries. 

Her fingers find your chin. Raising your head to face her head on.  “There you are.” A smirk curves her lips. Lips that ghost your panting mouth with a kiss, “don't look away. I love watching you take what you want.” 

Thrusting up into you she thrills at the gasp of surprise that over takes you at the sudden jolt. Grows cocky when her name fills the room. Getting off on the sound of your body and the view.

Grasping her pecs you press and release them, reveling in how she moans. Her eyes closed. Her lips parting. Squeezing her chest in time with your body grants you a magical view of her head leaning back. Her neck craning. Head rolling.

Needier whimpers and grunts caress your ears. Like this you would gaze upon her like a painting on a wall. Each sound rich pigment upon canvas. Traveling hands smearing permanent color onto the world. 

Her hands upon your skin. Her voice flowing like liquid mercury. Both bring forth new creations and possibilities of a mirage of hues. It was unfathomable. With her your futures were countless. Without her they were singular. 

On and on. Your eyes remain clinging to hers. Marveling at her. Needing her more and more. Needing it to stop and be over but craving it to continue forever. Desperately you speak her name. 

Licking her lips, she brushes hair from your face. Wiping the beading sweat with her hand. “Here, let me help you.” Her hips thrust into you in a frenzy.  Angling you so her head grazes along your pleasure points. 

Your own movements pressing against her. Working your hips on her, desperate for release.  Surrendering as she stretches you over and over again in a mind numbing pace.  Your legs quake. Your nails dig into her shoulders, biting against her skin. Gasping out her name again and again. 

Her smile growing with every snap of her hips.  “How do you like it?”

Nodding is all you can muster under so much pleasure. Your head bowing forward short cries answer her.

But it isn't enough.

Ducking in her velvety voice prompts you again, “use your words. Do you like it?”

Whimpering out a strangled, “yes”. Is music to her ears. Satisfied she was pleasing you, her lips place sloppy open kisses along your neck. Loving each noise and every shake of your body against hers. 

She continues zealously driving in over and over again until finally time freezes. Gazing down at her face the world stills. The tension snaps and finally your body dissolves into a pool of pleasure. Where, at the bottom, you curl mercifully against her. Your fingers knotting in her hair holding yourself close to her. 

Nuzzling into her neck you feel her shift in her seat. Cracking open your eyes you peer up at her smiling lazily. 

Stroking up and down your spine she whispers along your ear. Her eyes shine down on you brighter than any celestial body. Squeezing her tighter, your arms wrap around her neck. Draping over her. Inhaling her. Sweet nothings and careless words reverberate through you until sleep over takes you. 

A jolt of pleasure wakes you. Groggily you're greeted by the curve of her neck. The motion of her hair provokes a deep nuzzle back into her. Into safety.

“Oh? You're awake?” She shifts, unintentionally sending another ripple of pleasure through you. Her hand is still resting on your back. You can hear a pen gliding along paper. 

“Sorry.”  Hesitating, you sit upright. Shivering with each shift of muscle. Finally you're able to study her face once more. Your hands card through and over her hair. “I traveled far yesterday.” How long were you asleep? It couldn't have been too long? Or perhaps it was. 

Without a sun, time ran differently here. In a way you with your star in the sky and reliance upon light hadn't found a proper method for estimating. 

She kisses your forehead absentmindedly. Eyes still on the page before her. 

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you carefully glance over your shoulder. “Are you working?” You ask incredulously, glancing back at her in shock. 

Her laughter shakes her chest. In turn it shakes you and with it comes a soft sigh. “Yes. Of course. Otherwise you would have had to leave.” Her finger sensually traces your jawline. “We couldn't have that, could we?”

Your fatigued laughter joins hers, brushing against her lips engaging her in a soft kiss. 

Parting you hush her name against her skin. “There isn't anything I wouldn't do for you.” You pledge captivated by her. Unable to pull yourself free from her.