#sevilora

Sevika had made a mental note the first time she entered the Council chamber that the gold used to fill in the cracks where the table had been destroyed by Jinx reminded her of Elora's scars. From what Mel had told her, he'd always covered up from the neck down, but the gloves were new. Those he'd added to keep attention off of the markings that had appeared on his skin. Not as visible as Mel's, of course; their complexions were very different. And not out of shame - he was more than proud to bear visible evidence of their intensified connection - but out of a desire to lessen the scrutiny on her now that she lived as a mage in a city that practically outlawed her very presence. And, more selfishly, out of enjoyment at how complete his suits looked with them.

Sevika allowed herself the one look before she sat down. From that point on, she was not allowed to lower her head or her eyes. She kept her right hand, covered with her own fingerless leather glove, on the surface of the table as she usually did while the others filed in. Elora had insisted on being early so she could settle before she was met with prying and judgmental eyes. It had helped. Had given her the chance to get comfortable in the former Kiramman chair and move her new cloak to expose her left arm. It would be relevant for the discussion ahead. All she had with her other than herself was a folder of brown leather embossed with the seal that had been created to represent her and her city.

Elora waited in a separate area with scarce seating, a large briefcase placed beside him. His legs were crossed over one the other, his posture perfect in a way that spoke to formal training, and he scrutinized each person who stepped into the room. They didn't pay him any mind. Just as they didn't seem to pay any to their own staff who joined him any either. Sevika knew better than to assume that meant he went unnoticed. Nothing slipped the scrutiny of these people, but that wasn't new to her.

This order of business was Sevika's domain, so she got things moving once the other seats were filled. And the discussion devolved just as quickly as she had expected.

Everyone was talking in circles, saying the same meaningless shit in way too many words. They just loved the sound of their own voices. Loved wasting her time and everyone else's.

"I believe, in absence of some former prominent patrons of the Academy of the Arts, there may be limitations in the amount of support that can be justifiably offered to fund the proposed program," said a tall, slender, pale man with long blond hair that draped over his shoulders. He was dressed entirely in white with gold accents and lean features perpetually bearing a contemptuous expression.

"Why mince words, Councilor Salo? We can all recall the reports that Amara was cut down by Zaunite assassins. A terrible tragedy, truly. I do not believe she would want her passion to be championed in favor of those who killed her." Spoken by an older woman with her cascade of white hair framing her head in a wide, round updo that made her look ridiculous to Sevika, even moreso when she turned her beady little eyes in Sevika's direction. Councilor Cresthelm.

"That's not what this is about. Not gonna build anything like that to start," Sevika said. That brought the full table's attention back to her. This frivolous debate had nothing to do with what she had intended for today. She had probably been too ambitious in her planning, anyway. There was almost never any sense of urgency in here unless it was the rest of them pushing back against her or vying for some bullshit that would make them wealthier.

"There's no point in putting up some fancy university if no one's gonna attend. People need their basic needs met first." She pointed to the table, to the folder of documents Elora had created alongside her secretary. "This is about trading for the materials we need to build better water, ventilation, and medical infrastructure. No chance we'll be able to restore anything on the surface or even knock it down to build over it without takin' care of where everyone lives."

"I do not recall such a proposal for discussion being put forth. Are you certain you utilized the proper channels to advance your agenda?" said a man dressed in a sickly yellow-green accompanied by gold and red accents. His dark brown hair was cropped short on the sides and swept up into a coife on the top of his rectangular head. All of it, along with his beard, were shot through with gray, and the small, black, reflective glasses perched on his straight nose reminded her of Chross. Councilor Meridian.

"The Councilor of Zaun has followed all protocols, I assure you, Councilor Meridian," said Shoola. She had a folder in front of her as well. She was the only other one among them who did.

Sevika's eyes flicked to her, and she felt a prickling of irritation under her skin. She didn't need to be spoken for. "We've been set to talk about this for a week. Plans're already laid out, and we got people ready to move. Just need the sign off to get it going."

Several voices collided at once as all but Shoola lashed right back at the idea that Sevika had lifted a finger without their say so. She'd done much more than that. It had already taken months on end to put this Council together. To put this side of the bridge together enough for her to be brought to this table. She would not waste her time - her people's time - waiting around for them to have a change of heart that would never happen.

She did not raise her voice. She did not stand. She had weathered plenty of meetings just like this. There was no difference between this and a Chembaron Assembly. Not really. Her position notwithstanding, she had to let them all run their mouths for a moment. Blow off some steam. Someone would emerge as the one to be argued with, and she would focus on that. She wouldn't throw herself into the fray, and she wouldn't let her irritation or the rage beneath it lead her.

"I find it outrageous that you intend to appropriate funds without presenting legitimate reasons for them. We have protocols for a reason. Perhaps that remains lacking among your people, but it is essential to how we have always governed," said Councilor Cresthelm.

Sevika picked up the folder in front of her and held it up. "Got plenty of reasons in here. You'd know that if you cared enough about your rules to follow them." She turned to look across the room at where Elora had settled himself. He hadn't placed himself behind her. Not for this meeting. He understood that this cue should look deliberate, because it was. She gave him a barely persceptible nod and set her folder back down, opening it up with both hands.

Elora stood as Councilor Meridian piped up again. He glided across the room, briefcase in hand, plucking its contents out of it as he approached the table. Every move he made appeared deliberate and smooth as a dance.

"I believe I speak for my fellow Councilors when I say that your flippancy is not appreciated. If you cannot defend your proposal, then I see no reason to continue this discussion." He gave a pointed look to Shoola and her folder. "Shall we adjourn, Councilor?"

Elora stepped between Shoola's seat and that of Councilor Cresthelm. He placed a folder identical to Shoola's in front of her.

She leaned slightly away from him, her small, wrinkled mouth curled into as deep a scowl as she could manage. "What is this?" she demanded.

Elora's face was completely neutral as he walked around the back of her seat and approached Councilor Salo. "The Councilor of Zaun had the foresight to request copies of all necessary supporting documents. Within you will each find the following-"

He rattled off the list as he continued his way around the table. His voice resonated cleanly without ringing out, his tone measured, every word sounded crisp and clear. He commanded attention with the kind of leashed authority that Sevika had felt resonating through her with as much tangibility as the currents running through her from her left shoulder for most of her life. His presence had impact, but not its own gravitational pull. It was meant to bring people into her orbit and keep them there.

"Correspondence from Lady Alarica of House Valois confirming her support for grants that shall fund medical infrastructure, schematics for an upgraded ventilation system along with the original plans provided by the Kiramman family archives, a study on the contaminants in the Sump layer of Zaun along with a purification system designed by a former engineer of the Hexgates, and a summary of employee registration information for completing these projects along with their sponsors. Patrols to secure the perimeters of each project have been arranged by the Head of Security, shown on the map provided."

Sevika watched the table for reactions, of course, but she found herself stealing every possible glance she could at Elora himself. He floated along behind everyone like a ghost, his even gliding not the same mesmerizing dance as Mel's. He was meant to not be seen, and save for Councilor Cresthelm, no one seemed to even register him briefly dipping into their personal space to place the folders in front of them.

The windows that overlooked the city outside were wide open, allowing the dull sunlight of the overcast day to highlight the gold in his skin for just a moment. The rich brown tones of his hair where he had swept it back and let it flow freely. With the new layers he had added to his wardrobe, his flattering vests and squared-off blazers, he didn't mind having it loose as much as he had before. Sevika hadn't gotten to see this suit from afar much. He was strikingly handsome in it, with his narrow face set in a mask of poised politeness. It was a front.

When he caught her eye from behind the seat on her right side, she saw the barest twitch grace his lips. A moment of private satisfaction shared between the two of them. It was followed immediately with a flare of the heat that had been lazily coiling in on itself inside of her since this morning. A hunger sweetened by every moment she had to wait to get him alone. They would be too busy to indulge it for hours yet.

"Have all of the proper permits been filed for these projects?" asked Councilor Salo. He had pointedly flicked the folder out of the way of where he had rested his hands on the table. He had his late relative's penchant for drinking and wrapped his fingers around a gold flute filled with Noxian wine as soon as the offending documents had been visibly dismissed by him.

Elora turned back around and swept toward his seat, much to his dismay, as he pulled yet another folder from his briefcase. He changed course so swiftly and gracefully, it looked like the action had already been planned. He glanced Sevika's way just as he placed it down as a cue.

"Permits were submitted and processed a couple weeks ago," Sevika said. "Sent these in once that was through. Like I said, we're ready to move on this. Just gotta vote it through and get to whatever's next." She glanced at Elora as she pulled out and unfolded a map in front of her.

He spoke again as he reached the gap in the table beside her where outsiders could step into the open center of it. He remained an equal distance between her and the Councilor to her right. "Your staff received these materials on time. No violations of official policy regarding the timelines for document submission have been levied against the Councilor of Zaun. You may keep the copies provided for future reference regarding these initiatives." There was an accusation beneath every statement. None of you did your jobs. None of you care about this, and he knew it as well as she did.

He gave a slight bow. "I yield all time to the current lead Councilor." He had to fight not to look at her as he turned on his heel and returned to his seat. He would find out later if he had been sufficient in his support. The point was not to flaunt the backing Sevika had in the form of Mel and other allies, but to make them all painfully aware of how obvious their negligence was and continued to be.

He wasn't alone in watching them flounder. Members of their Houses were here. Their constituents were here, including Sevika's. Their staff was here, and now none of them would look in Elora's direction. They had all been shown up, and it wasn't over.

Councilor Shoola was the first to open her folder and picked through it until she found her map as well. The mirroring helped. Two other councilors opened theirs and started scanning like they had never seen a piece of paper before.

"What's this you said about sponsors? What permission do you have to excavate or construct anything in all this mess?" Councilor Cresthelm said.

Sevika rested her right hand on the map. "Been writing to your staff for weeks about an ongoing study my secretary's leading. They've created a method for measuring the usable vertical space in the fissures. They're sorting out who owns where from the surface to the Sump and drawing up deeds. Whoever's got land we're working on is sponsoring the people who will be on their turf." She pointed at the map for emphasis. "This is what my people need before they can care about anything else, and they're willing to make it happen themselves."

Councilor Meridian had been flipping through his folder and slapped it shut when she paused. "What is it you want, then? Out with it." His ghostly skin was quickly turning ruddy with irritation.

"Already said that part. Just gotta sign off on the materials getting where they need to go. Major trade gets put to a vote." All throughout, her voice remained low, even, and quiet. Her volume was conversational, and it forced everyone to tune in entirely to when she spoke or they would miss something. None of the people seated around her would feel they could afford to do that right now.

Even at this distance, the sound of her speaking sent a pleasant chill down Elora's spine. The velvet tones in her voice, always woven through with a melodious quality, mesmerized him. He couldn't see her face from his seat, but he could picture it. The same stubborn set of that gorgeous squared jaw, the furrowing of her thick, dark brows, the shadow of her sharp cheekbones stark even in this dull light. The downcast curl of her full lips. If he concentrated hard enough, he could still feel those lips against the shell of his ear. He wished he could squeeze his thighs together to give himself the barest relief from the throb that was returning between them. He kept his legs crossed and forced himself to pay attention in case she needed him again.

Councilor Shoola spoke up again. "I see no reason to delay what has been presented and proposed. It is the responsibility of Council members to remain up to date on all matters that require our attention." She turned to look Councilor Meridian in the eyes. "I understand that there have been delays in the fulfillment of invoices submitted quite some time ago to a variety of distributors under the Prime Meridian trading company, Councilor. Is there a need for revisions to be created for our current policies on punctuality?"

"There is no such need, Councilor," he shot back. "We should remain on topic."

"Right. Let's vote, then," Sevika said. Strips of metal in the characteristic gold and white of the hall raced toward a center point far above their heads. The room was consumed in shadow and all fell silent. Sevika picked her left hand up, watching how all eyes were drawn to the metal as it flashed even in the lackluster stream of light that fell on her.

Shoola raised her hand next, revealing that she was still looking to Councilor Meridian. He huffed and picked his hand up, his elbow still resting on the table. Councilor Salo offered the same half-hearted support. Councilor Cresthelm folded her hands on the table, glaring at Sevika as she sat still in the spotlight.

"Four out of seven is a pass," Sevika said as the windows opened up again. She folded up the map and slipped it back into the folder. "Updates will be sent to your staff as they have been." Just one more reminder that their pettiness hadn't gone unnoticed. She didn't stand, and she didn't have to for them to leave.

Councilor Cresthelm got up first. She grasped at her long skirts with one hand and clicked her way past the spectators to the door. Councilor Meridian followed, then Salo, then the two others who had remained silent. Shoola remained in place as the attendants of the other Councilors left, her head bowed as she picked through the documents with her long gold filligree nails separating the pieces of paper with ease.

When it was only Sevika, Shoola, and Elora, the other Councilor finally stood, folder in hand. The others had left theirs. She faced Sevika and allowed herself a wry little smile.

"Let me do you a favor for tackling all that. I'll make sure these-," she gestured with the folder, "-get where they're supposed to. I've got some house calls to make anyway." She placed a hand on Sevika's left shoulder as she passed her, still seated. There was no hesitation over it. No aversion to the metal in place of fabric and flesh. "I'll see you this evening."

Sevika nodded. She wasn't one for goodbyes, but she did say, "Back me up. Don't get between them and me."

Shoola didn't move her hand just yet. "Right. I got a bit overzealous today, I will admit. I'm glad this passed on the first try, though. That's progress."

Sevika hummed an agreement as Shoola's hand slipped off her shoulder. She looked down at the open folder. A handful of papers that represented weeks of work. Sleepless nights for her and everyone who worked alongside her. Thousands of steps and hundreds of hours combined. And they'd been largely ignored. It made the fingers of her right hand curl into a fist as footsteps approached.

Elora stepped up beside her chair, his briefcase in one hand while the other was outstretched. "Shoola freed up some time. Join me in the office?"

Sevika picked her head up and slapped the folder shut. Her brows were furrowed, her practically permanent scowl even deeper than usual. She looked between Elora's face and his hand as she tucked the folder under her left arm. They were alone. He wouldn't approach her this way if he wasn't sure they were alone.

Even though she could feel her stomach had tied itself into knots to quiet her rage, she reached up and took his hand. She stood and let go, giving him the folder to hold for her instead. For a moment, they both had their hands on it, and she met his eyes again. They were sparkling with unadulterated excitement. The thrill of having acted out within the boundaries of this restrictive space. It made some of the knots in her loosen.

She walked ahead of him away from the table. That was until they were getting close to the door. Just like her secretary, he didn't like her opening doors in this building. There were supposed to be attendants ready to do so, but she was not offered the same deference as the other Councilors. They had already left.

Elora pushed the door open, her folder already in his briefcase, and held it as she passed him. He resumed walking behind her on her left, and allowed himself a smile in the empty hallway before they had to wear their masks again.

The Kiramman office had taken several shapes in the past two years or so. Initially occupied by Cassandra. Then relinquished to her daughter when she became Commander and filled with evidence of her attempting to unravel the conspiracies that had surrounded Jinx during the pre-war occupation. Then stripped bare and handed to the first Zaunite to ever set foot in it.

So much of the space had seemed wasted. Two rooms split between floors, connected by a narrow spiral staircase, had only one full-sized desk and a handful of chairs between them. Little tables and heirlooms and decorative pieces, all smelling like old books and lingering, ghostly perfume. Sevika had cleared it out, letting the remaining Kiramman keep what she cared to. It didn't matter to her. She needed space and reference materials. A place to build a bureaucracy from the ground up. Again. Hopefully one that would last more than a handful of years this time.

Sevika resented the space just as she was repulsed by the gaudy glamorousness of the building it was in, the excess of the city it towered over. It looked better filled with mismatched furniture brought or hammered together here, stations for her small, overworked staff.

A knife-sharpening kit and maps marked with notes on the new emerging factions in Zaun sat atop one, her Head of Security.

Blueprints and a tool belt tossed on another alongside a grinder and lighter, her Chief Engineer.

By the window was another covered with potted plants and notes, her Chief Environmental Scientist.

The cleanest had a stack of folders off to one side, a leather mat in front of the seat, pens and pencils lined up on the other side: her Surgeon General.

The most crowded desk was a sprawl of letters--some in envelopes and others yet to be folded--ink pots, and pneumatic tube vessels, all laid out atop a handmade table covering made of pristine white yarn, her Communications Liaison.

A matching cover rested on the desk across the narrow aisle from that one, a haphazard spread of pencils, whole fruit piled in a metal bowl alongside a pair of empty glasses and a bottle, all shadowed by a display box with a pair of bloodied old hand wraps and a silver cog with a nameplate at the base; her Director of Youth Programs.

And upstairs, in the one piece of furniture that could not be removed for its sheer bulk and attachment to the floor beneath it, loomed the presence meant to belong to her. A Councilor of the city that had gutted hers for generations. Sharing it with her Secretary and the lover sweeping past the desks with her to snatch up relevant documents barely reduced the sting of sitting behind it.

Sevika paused at the base of the spiral staircase that would bring her up to the desk she considered disassembling by hand every time she had to lay her work out on it. She hadn't found the time yet. There was never enough time for anything. Already her trains of thought were tangling themselves together, trying to reduce the time and effort it would take to cut down on the impossible number of tasks that faced her. She found herself standing at the base of the staircase, right hand on a large decorative glass bulb that stood on the end of the railing. She'd managed to steal some spare time. Where would she start with it?

"If I may," Elora said as he approached. "I wanted to request some of your newly available time if you would be amenable to it."

Sevika turned to glare at him. "Talk to me like I'm a person. No snobs in here for you to act in front of." It came out sharper than she intended it to. Elora couldn't be faulted for the prim and proper posture he assumed anymore than she could for the iron set of her jaw and how easily her hands had been curling into fists her whole life. Where her capacity for strategy and wit could be obscured by her calloused and stoic exterior, the same could be said for his ability to snuff others out if necessary while remaining pristine. He hadn't spilled any blood for her today, but he had backed her up.

Elora's expression softened from its unreadable mask, and he closed the space between them with even, confident strides. "Come upstairs with me. I promise I won't give you more papers to look at." His lips curled into a small, kind smile. "I think we moved the needle today. We should celebrate."

Sevika cocked a skeptical brow, but she got lost in the look of him for a second. In the tilt of his head making that cascade of glossy chestnut hair slip off the padded shoulder of his suit jacket. The light in his gold eyes. And then he reached out to touch her left arm, fingers resting on the metal with the same ease as the other side of her. "Alright, pretty boy."

There was no door in their way between these floors. Elora had no need to step ahead and make way for her. Instead he followed in silence, the grip on his briefcase's strap tightening as he watched her on the way up. The sway of the capelet that framed her broad shoulders, the cinched curve of her waist, emphasized by the tightly wrapped shirt he had fastened to her this morning. He wouldn't allow his gaze to fall lower. If he got a glimpse of her ass in the tight pants she was wearing, he'd trip up this stupid little staircase and never live it down.

Sevika didn't sit behind the desk once they reached the second floor. The room was even more vast than the one beneath it, high, gilded windows towering over the space. Elora remembered those windows being flanked by emerald curtains, the space between the desk and the door a yawning gap that made the walk from one to the other feel daunting at times; so much time and room to feel scrutinized by the Councilor who had previously occupied the tall chair framed by Piltover's skyline outside.

Sevika had transformed the space and how it was interacted with as well. Cassandra Kiramann would never have been caught dead sleeping in here, but there was a couch that could be pulled out into a bed on the far side of the room now, separated from the rest of it by a paper room divider with a metal frame; apparently a gift from someone who worked in a brothel named for the same floral design on the paper. She also would not have rooted through the cabinet on the far wall beside the desk for a liquor bottle and perched on the edge of the desk with it.

Elora was concerned about the drinking, but there was a routine he preferred to follow that took priority. One thing at a time. He had to be calm to initiate what he had been thinking about between every task and movement of the day. What had encroached on the corners of his mind, narrowing his focus since he and Sevika had torn away from each other this morning. He walked around the desk and opened his briefcase to deposit its contents on the desk, each folder parallel to the next in order of importance for the rest of the day's plans. He took the briefcase with him back around and approached Sevika's left side.

She had the bottle grasped in her right but hadn't taken a drink just yet. She looked lost in thought, her impeccably kept brows furrowed with her full lips pressed into a thin line. He reached for her, and when she glanced at his hand without moving, he grabbed at her cloak and pulled it off her. She dropped her shoulders slightly when he smoothed his hand along her back through her capelet before stepping away again.

He hung her cloak on the coat rack by the door, placed his briefcase on a table beside it, then pulled off his gloves. He shrugged his suit jacket off next. As much as he was sure she would enjoy taking it off him, there would be other chances for that. He wanted to be the one focused on her. On undoing some of the work he had done this morning--assembling her elaborate outfit--and continuing the rest--providing for her needs. He weaved his way through the labyrinth of divided sections she had made of the once hollow space, moving with purpose without seeming frantic. The two of them never had much time to spare, and he felt almost greedy moving on her twice in one day, but they needed it. They had both earned it. She had been earning it for years before he met her.

She was peering down at the bottle like it had done something to personally offend her when he reached the desk again. She still seemed lost in thought, her broad back bowed forward in a graceful arc that Elora wanted to invert.

"Let me at least get you a glass," he said. He circled the desk again, watching her as she lifted her head slightly.

"Two. Not a fan of drinking alone anymore," she said.

"You're too generous," he said. He was used to drinking in moderation on the job with Mel, and far stronger spirits than what she kept stocked in her office. He was happy to have a sip or two if it meant easing some of her tension to start. He paused behind her desk and masked the sound of him swiftly opening and closing a drawer with his voice. "I found a gap in everyone's schedules the evening after tomorrow. Should I send out letters requesting them for dinner?" He slipped a small glass jar into his pocket, then fetched two glasses from the same cabinet she had gotten her bottle from.

"You tell me. How's morale?" she asked. She watched him with a slight smile as he placed the glasses down neatly beside her and held a bare hand out for her bottle. She noted the skin he had decided to expose there, his lack of gloves as much of an invitation as a demand for her to touch him. But first came first. She gave the bottle to him and watched his delicate hands cradle the body just beneath its long neck, his other hand cupping the bottom of it as he poured. The label faced upward, and the stream produced by his careful tipping was completely smooth. Just like his actions in the Council chamber, every motion read like the steps of a carefully choreographed dance.

"I think it would benefit us all to have a bit of personal time. I would propose an early dinner with the option to have drinks afterwards. Everyone has been working very hard, and that may seem to be an incentive to avoid this, but I think it's important for the staff to be taken care of outside of their regular hours," he said.

He took the bottle back to the cabinet and set it aside while she grabbed the glass with slightly more liquor in it. Sevika found herself admiring the cut of his waistcoat, the way it hugged his waist without cinching it too much. How the hemline sat below his hips and didn't flare out to give him a less curvy silhouette. The crisp lines on the sides of his pants from him pressing them the night before. She gripped her glass tighter, hoping whatever he wanted to discuss wouldn't take too long. She'd rather spend this time putting some wrinkles in his perfect clothes before they had to leave. And she knew from walking in on others using this room for fun that no one could hear a thing out in the hallway.

"Sounds like a plan," she said.

"I'm glad we're in agreement." Elora caught her staring and didn't shy away. To be the sole subject of her fierce gray gaze could be intoxicating. He wanted to smile. To hurry things along and get her capelet and shoulder piece and belts off her and scattered across the desk she was still perched on. Instead he kept his easygoing pace and picked up the glass beside her. He tapped it against hers, feeling the warmth of contentment when she nodded to him.

They took their drinks at the same time, Sevika draining her glass significantly more than he did. He watched the thick, scarred column of her throat working and felt a far more intense heat further down than his chest.

"Got something to say, pretty boy? Cough up. Don't have all day," Sevika said. She took another sip, careful to savor it this time. She didn't want him ditching her to pour her some more. She didn't want anything new in the way of her getting her hands back in his hair and her lips on what little skin he would show. Janna above, she was looking at his fingers curled around the cut crystal of his glass and wanted to press a kiss to the back of it. And maybe shove a couple of those slender fingers into her mouth. Or somewhere else.

She shifted in place, resting more fully on the edge of the desk. Just that much more solid pressure underneath her made her cunt start to grow slick in her pants, under the cock she had hidden with her cloak all day. She glanced at Elora as she swallowed and found he had glanced down exactly where she was hoping he would. Eyes shifting slowly like he was reading lines of writing on a page, but she knew what he was up to. He was tracing the outline of her shaft.

So she huffed and tapped her glass to his again. He hadn't touched it a second time. "You didn't bring me here so I could talk to myself," she said.

Elora's gaze found hers again, and he set his glass down. "I didn't." He stepped in front of her, not having sat on the desk like she had. Even seated, she had some height on him, and he tilted his head back slightly to keep their eyes locked. He stepped between her feet, placing both hands on her large thighs, fingers splayed apart. "I brought you here to finish what we started this morning."

Sevika shouldn't have felt such a powerful surge of need just feeling his elegant hands on her. He wasn't even pressing down. Wasn't letting them roam. He didn't need to. She set her glass down behind her, not expecting he'd flatten her on this bulky thing. "Yeah? Looking for me to bend you over this?" She tapped her finger on the surface of the desk next to her, the dull metal on wood sound ringing for a second.

Elora pressed himself against the desk and rocked up onto his toes to brush his nose against hers. "You still have a long day ahead of you, mi amor. Let me make the rest of it easy on you."

Sevika scoffed despite the flush she could feel rising in her face. Two times in a row he'd gotten her feeling like she was on her back foot. And in the same day. He was too good at this and only getting better. She raised her chin slightly and leaned back on her left hand to see if he'd give chase. He wasn't nearly as shy as most people assumed he was. "Think you can handle me like that already, pretty boy? Not sure you can."

Elora grabbed her by the waist and pulled until she acquiesced enough to be within reach of his lips. He pressed them to hers with a firm, demanding pressure. Not heated yet, but soon to be. And she rested her right hand on his hip in return. He wouldn't move to overpower her, that wasn't how he worked. He would seduce her into yielding for him and reward her as much as she could physically endure for it. His hands smoothed around to fold together at the center of her back, and he felt her grip on him tighten as her lips parted.

He didn't shove his tongue down her throat right away, instead coaxing her into pressing closer by gently drawing on her full bottom lip. His own lips were well-shaped but narrow, and it felt luxurious to caress her there. To feel the slight indents where scars had been left alongside the softness of her skin. Within moments of him gently suckling, she wrapped her right arm around him and shifted forward to balance on the edge of the desk. It still left enough room for him to bring his hands forward and run them up to the first fastening he needed to undo.

Sevika trusted him perhaps more than she should have. He could have tucked blades between the fine layers of his clothes while she waited for him here. He could have ratted out any part of the operation she was struggling to build alongside her staff, the overwhelming majority of them sharing her origins among them. He could have mocked her for the soft sound that passed from her into his mouth when he grabbed at her chest, hands splayed across bound and unbound flesh alike. Instead of obeying her own paranoia, she dropped her shoulders when he pulled her armored grate and lapel off her. The capelet followed.

Every new slide and press of their lips brought more of his careful disassembly. The version of her constructed for these meetings, meant to look the part of the archetypal Zaunite, the culmination of half a dozen failed revolutions, was gently undone. Pried apart with enough care to be slotted back together later on and shown to the world as if she wasn't collapsing into his grip. She curled work-roughened fingers into the fabric at the back of his waistcoat while he unwound the binding of her wrapped shirt and slid his hands into it with enough firm pressure to make her shiver. Fuck, she had to keep it together. At least make him work to get her this needy. She tried not to be the easy kind, but he paid too much attention to every little thing that unmade her.

Loathe as he was to no longer feel her hand clutching him, Elora still pulled the fabric covering her right arm down to bare it for his seeking hands. She let him toss it behind her on the desk, the folders he'd laid out now covered with the accessories that had adorned her torso. And her belts were next.

She broke the kiss to say, "Didn't hard pack for nothing, handsome." She managed to still sound smug even as he brushed his lips along the right side of her face and kissed her neck next. "Give the cock that got you off this morning some love before you bite off more than you can chew." She couldn't wait to tangle her fingers in his silky hair, to feel the pressure against her cunt as he swallowed her down. That had to be where this was going, because he'd reached for her largest belt to undo the brass buckle.

"I always want to chew on you, gorgeous," he murmured into the corded muscle of her neck. He drew harder on the skin there than he had with her lips, knowing he'd need some proper suction to have any hope of leaving marks on her warm brown skin. "Mel always makes it look like so much fun." He chuckled as he let his fingers crawl their way up the line of her stacked belts, mindful of the trio that acted as support for her lower back. They were left to rest on the desk behind her, too, the collection growing as he anticipated defiling the antique for what had to be the twentieth time at least. Not only with her, but the partners they shared.

"You Noxians," she muttered. She brought her hips closer to the very edge of the desk when he grabbed them and pressed a kiss beneath her ear that made her fight another shudder. "Always bitey and shit." She was bracing herself for when he made good on his comment. For when he'd dig his perfect, square teeth into her skin and not let go. Every kiss he placed along the line of her pulse wound her up tighter. When he suddenly grabbed her cock with one hand and tugged the hem of her sleeveless top free from her pants with the other. He was met with more fabric underneath, the waistband of her boxers with the leather straps of her harness over top. She felt him trace one of those straps as his tongue lapped at her skin until the flush in her face worsened.

Elora chuckled against her skin as he stroked the length of her through her pants just before fully opening them up to feel the silicone in his hand. It was on the larger side, providing an exquisite stretch, and was close in color to her natural skin tone; a veiny texture complete with a faux frenulum along the underside of the glans made it an excellent approximation of the real organ. "It's not our fault you're so delicious, mi amor," he purred into her ear. He slowly stroked the length of her until he felt a rumbling in her throat against his lips.

"You gonna blow me or rip me open?" she asked. She clearly didn't seem threatened by him grazing his teeth along the spots he had just marked from his sucking. Her right hand landed on his ass as soon as she felt the pressure of him starting to jerk her off. Her boxers were clinging to her already, hours of ogling him catching up with her now that she was getting what she wanted.

"I have every intention of spreading you open, my dear," Elora crooned to her. He traced the high, rounded neckline of her tank top, groping his way back down her torso with his free hand until he could rest it on her thigh again. "But first, I do want to thank you for earlier." He continued his slow stroking as he sank down onto his knees. He couldn't resist the pleased smile that spread across his face when she dropped her gaze to watch him. That was the whole point of this, after all. She wouldn't feel this nearly as intensely if didn't have those gunmetal grays trained on him.

Sevika swallowed hard to keep her breath from audibly hitching when Elora stuck out his tongue and caressed the head of her cock in a slow swirl. She still had her left arm braced behind her, holding her upright, and was so mesmerized for a moment by the sight of his lips wrapping around the head of her that she forgot she could grab him. She was making the fingertips of her right hand ache from how hard she was gripping the edge of the desk instead. As if a spell would be broken if she touched him.

She'd never been shy about handling someone who wanted her, hadn't been this morning when shoving him around in the dressing room, but this felt different. He'd half stripped her already, gotten her ruining her boxers and all he'd surrendered were his gloves and a jacket. The intensity of his golden gaze as he sank further onto her felt restraining. Did he want her to stay put or lose control? And when had it mattered to her what he wanted anyway? He was the one supposed to service her. Right?

Elora took his time here just as he did with everything else. He wasn't one to make much of a mess, especially when there were more appearances to be made within the day, but he knew how Sevika preferred to be pleased. He bowed forward, sucking in more of the shaft in his mouth, and spread  his thighs wide apart. It wasnt just to show off, but to make sure that his saliva didn't drip onto his pants; he didn't have a cloak to hide under the way she did if he got too enthusiastic a second time today. He'd already pushed his luck leaving a wet patch on both their clothes.

He built up his rhythm as methodically, wetting her shaft halfway, then drawing back to suckle at the head so he could pump his fist and spread his own spit along the full length. He stroked her firmly, always pressing back against her with a bit more force when he reached the base of her cock. And each pass wore down her control more. She had been practically glaring at him to start, her jaw set in a stubborn line that spoke to her fighting to stay quiet. Her eyes were half-lidded now, lips parted to allow a groan to slip through when he sucked her back into his mouth. When he finally swallowed her down enough for the tip of his small nose to brush the leather panel of her harness, she reached down and swept a handful of his hair up between her calloused fingers.

Now it was his turn to let loose a few sounds of his own. She used both hands to gather enough of his hair to use as a handle of sorts, tugging from the scalp to guide herself into his throat. She didn't thrust yet, content to watch his eyes watering from her cock filling him enough to form a bulge in his neck for several long moments. He couldn't hope to get a breath in, but he didn't need to. Air was overrated when the sight of her short brown hair framing her face as it contorted from pleasure would have stolen whatever would have been in his lungs anyway. He sucked loudly on her when she pulled him back until her cock sprang free of his mouth and left him panting. His tongue dangled for a moment before he felt his own saliva sliding down its surface and quickly swallowed it back. His waistcoat and tie must remain clean. For now. Maybe there would be a third round today.

Sevika's chest had begun to heave as well, her clit throbbing underneath her harness and begging for more attention. Her breathing stammered when he grabbed onto her and began stroking again, letting her hold his head where it was even though he kept glancing down at her spit-shined cock like he was dying to choke on it. That made her smirk down at him and tighten her grip on his hair. "Need more that bad, huh, pretty boy? Been thinking about her all day, haven't you."

Elora licked his lips, still pumping his fist along the length of her shaft, and felt her hand loosen just enough to let him move again. "Need to hear you sound like that again, mi amor." He grabbed her ass with his free hand and surged forward, sucking her into his mouth again with renewed enthusiasm. He arched his back to keep his own clothing out of the way as he bobbed his head to take her as deep as he could fit while still sucking. He heard her curse above him and felt a wave of heat race down his spine just before she yanked on his hair to match his pace with her own hips.

Sevika bared her teeth in a grimace as her head hung forward, eyes shutting for a moment as she lost herself in the sensation of her boxers slipping against her swollen clit underneath her harness. The obscene sounds coming from her lover made it that much worse; his huffing, muffled grunts, and even a choked whine when she raked her fingers through his hair to press against the back of his head. She bottomed out in his throat with a long, low moan. She managed to open her eyes just in time to see him blinking up at her, moisture clinging to his lashes from how much she'd made him tear up already. A fat droplet shimmering with gold slipped from a watery eye and down his cheek.

"Cryin' on it already, pretty boy? Look so fuckin' good with a moutful of dick." She scoffed quietly as she slowly tugged him back up. "Bet none of those snobs know you're a cocksucker."

Elora let out a breathless laugh as soon as his mouth was empty. His normally smooth, low voice was slightly hoarse as he took up stroking her again to continue offering her pressure then spoke up. "Of course not. I'm fairly certain half of them believe I've never even kissed a woman." He licked his already glistening lips and pressed a kiss to the head of the cock in his hand.

"You handle 'em just fine, gorgeous." Sevika chuckled and shifted in place, tilting her hips up as he angled her cock up toward her and kissed his way down the shaft. Then licked his way back up and swallowed her again. She let out a ragged breath and pulled him right back in, guiding his head for a few more blissful moments of him sucking like nothing felt better than her dick sliding in deeper.

She couldn't get it out of her head how so many people who'd known him far longer than her thought this wasn't who he was. How it hadn't been yet. Before she got her claws into him. Well, she used to have claws for that. He was throating her like it was what he was made for, the delicate hand that had been handing out papers to aristocracy earlier now yanking her pants down her thighs to grope her through her boxers. He had plenty of other talents, and she knew he loved nothing more than indulging her and their other partners with them as often as he was allowed. He wanted to open her up, he'd said. The thought made her clit twitch almost restlessly under the continued onslaught of watching him blow her.

So she gave his hair another tug and said, "Lemme get this off. Put those hands to work."

Elora slowly released her with a hum that reminded her very much of his lifelong companion. He smiled up at her, looking satisfied yet still eager, and flicked his hair back when she let it go. He touched the back of her right hand when she reached for the strap of her harness with it and shook his head. "There's no need for that. Let me help." He let her dick go and pulled out a handkerchief from his waistcoat pocket.

Sevika wasn't sure what he had in mind, but she was curious enough to lean back against the desk and offer herself up to him. Her lips curled into a smirk as she watched him wipe the hand he'd covered with his own spit, then folded it up and tucked it back into his pocket. He then reached into his waistcoat, fingers seeking some hidden pocket, and pulled out a narrow piece of gold. A blade flipped out of it, but she didn't budge.

Elora held the blade away from her for the moment, pointing the tip down toward the rug beneath them both. He placed his other hand on her thigh and rose up higher on his knees. "I promise to launder these pants for the mess they'll be later." He pinched a piece of her boxers between his fingers and pulled on it before letting it snap back. "May I cut these off of you, my love? I will replace them, of course."

Sevika's lips drew back in a genuine grin. Of course he had a knife on him. He probably had more than one. Maybe this one lived in a little loop inside that vest. Maybe all of his vests had homes for weapons he could draw and kill with at a moment's notice. "Go for it, kid. Never been scared of a slice or two."

Elora's sultry smile dropped into a stern look, and he held the blade up in front of his face. He ran his hand down to the hem of one leg on her boxers and pulled it away from her skin. "I ought to be offended that you would imply I could ever be clumsy with this. I am better than that, Sevika, and you know it."

Sevika should have laughed. Instead, she swallowed hard again as he made swift work of her boxers. The blade was sharp enough for there to be almost no resistance at all, and despite how close it came to her skin, it didn't so much as graze her. Maybe she wanted it to, but now wasn't the time for that. They wouldn't have time to properly dress and treat cuts if they followed through with everything they both wanted, but she had already decided to raise this to him later. "Do I gotta say sorry for you to keep going, pretty boy?" she asked.

"If I waited on you to be apologetic, neither of us would get what we want today." Elora made the final cut and pulled the whole piece of fabric free from her harness. He dropped it off to the side, flicked the blade back into its handle, and tucked it away again with movements so swift and mechanical he could have been conducting regular business under a tight deadline. That impression was disposed of the second he dropped down to sit on his feet again so he could press his face between his lover's spread thighs. He inhaled deeply with a low moan and grabbed at her pants to yank them down.

Sevika felt split down the middle as more blood rushed to her face and cunt. "Not gonna run from you, kid," she said. She felt him pressing kisses to her inner thigh as she stepped out of the fabric he had bunched up around her feet. All that was left beyond the padding and tape for her prosthetic now was her sleeveless black top. And yet he remained in everything but those supple lambskin gloves and his padded suit jacket.

"Of course not, mi amor. You like what I do to you too much," Elora said. He reached for her cock again, tugging on it to adjust how it sat against her, shifting it up over her mons to expose her cunt to him.

"Watch that mouth, boy," she said. The scolding was half-hearted at best. She would admit to a bit of pride that he had the nerve to talk back to her like this. To shamelessly comb through the wiry, matted hairs of her bush with the same fingers that had been curled around a knife a moment ago. To slide two slender digits between the thick, slick lips of her cunt to tease her hole like she would make herself even easier for him.

"As long as you don't close yours," he shot back. His voice was a winding murmur as if the scent of her had struck him into a trance. He kissed his way up her shaft again, and slid a finger into her. "I want to hear how good I make you feel."

Sevika sucked in a breath to answer him for that. She didn't get the chance. She was soaked enough for him to slip another finger into her right next to the first, and it feeling that as he started sucking on her again was too damn much. She groaned and curled her fingers around the edge of the desk. Her mechanical ones creaked with faint protest at the intensity, or perhaps that was the wood itself. She didn't know, and she didn't care, because her lover was hooking his fingers and pumping his fist like he was trying to wring moisture out of her cock that wasn't there. The dual sensation, the sight of him blowing her and feeling of him filling her at the same time, was intoxicating.

Her head swam in the mounting lust she felt as he curled his fingers over and over again, slowly increasing his pace as he took her cock in deeper. The quiet clicking sounds of her dripping cunt were masked by his sucking, and she could feel herself tightening around him. It didn't feel like enough. There were no burning slivers of pain alongside the bliss he pressed into her. No aching stretch. She wanted that weaving through her.

She knew the damned beautiful boy on his knees for her would be too careful for that. Too considerate of her body's potential limitations. Just because she was starting to go gray and her joints crackled like wood being split sometimes didn't mean she couldn't take a few fingers.

She grabbed at his hair again, but she didn't guide him the way she had before. She just swept it up to get a good look at his lips wrapped around her and spoke. "Be good 'n gimme another."

Elora paused in the constant bobbing of his head and pulled back to let the head of her cock rest on his tongue. He kept stroking her as if to wring her out onto the pink flesh and obeyed. He made a soft moaning sound as her slick walls swallowed up a third finger with very little resistance. Slowly he pushed in deeper, testing what she could take, seeking her depths until the low sounds of pleasure she gifted him began to climb in pitch. Until her breath caught again. And he felt her buck her hips to chase more when he curled all three fingers together.

"That's it," she panted. "Good boy." She could see a sparkle leap into his golden eyes at the praise and scratched at his scalp to reward him some more. "Don't let up," she ordered. She had to find a way to keep her footing somehow, even with three of his fingers stuffing her and his pretty little mouth caressing her cock again.

Elora let out another pleased little hum as she scratched him, slowly thrusting his fingers back and forth. She got tighter every time he loudly sucked, every time he firmly pumped her with his hand. When he pressed in deep enough for the meat of his palm to come flush with the thick length of her hard clit. He would have smiled if his lips hadn't been stretched around her cock over the way her head fell back the second he applied pressure there. He felt his own cock throbbing in his pants feeling her grind into his palm, his skin more slick than it had been from stroking her.

Sevika had been about to breathe out another foolish tumble of curses when a knock sounded at the door. Her entire body went rigid for a second, and she hissed at finally getting a spark of the pain she'd been seeking. Just for the wrong reason. It was a stranger. She and her staff had a knock that announced them to each other. The random scattering of strikes that echoed through the room was nothing like it. She couldn't very well move with three of Elora's fingers still crammed inside of her and his mouth on her cock. She heaved a deep sigh, her whole body bowing forward as she glanced down at her discarded pants and boots.

The stranger knocked again as Elora slowly pulled his fingers out of her. He stood gracefully, letting go of the cock he had been toying with and pulled the handkerchief out again. Only he locked eyes with Sevika and slid his shiny fingers between his own lips. One at a time, he licked them clean, then wiped off his hand in the same swift, methodical fashion as before. His lips curled in an impish smile as he folded it up, only this time, he lifted it to his nose and drew in a deep breath before he tucked it away again.

There was a third knock. Louder this time. Sharper. Speaking to the kind of impatience that might lead to the door being opened.

Sevika's stomach sank for a moment. Then she watched the way Elora looked her up and down slowly and any anxiety she might have felt over the state she was in was burned away.

"Stay," he said. Not with the tone of a servant or assistant. The tone of a handler.

He turned on his heel and swiftly made his way through the labyrinth she had formed of the room. He folded the hand that still smelled faintly of his lover behind his back and opened the door with a neutral expression.

The young man on the other side was dressed in maroon, black, and white. His hair was cut shorter on the sides of his head than the top, and he looked reasonably irritated over the minute or so he had been forced to wait. He squared his shoulders and offered Elora a small envelope with a small maroon seal. The exact same shade as the young man's suit jacket and pants.

"Councilor Abernathy regrets to inform you that he will be unable to attend the meeting scheduled for later this afternoon," he said. His tone was flat yet polite. But he had opted for the most neutral way of delivering the message, which had to be deliberate. There was no 'offer the Councilor of Zaun my regards' or an offer to reschedule. Only more time suddenly offered up.

Elora fought a smile. Ultimately this was disheartening given the merchant dynasty status of the Councilor who had remained silent earlier that day and was now brushing Sevika off on a more personal note. Selfishly, Elora was glad to be given the chance to more thoroughly enjoy her Councilor and lover's time. He would make this up to her.

"How unfortunate. I shall be sure to reschedule at his earliest convenience. Expect a list of options from me first thing tomorrow morning. Thank you, Matthew," he said.

All he received was a curt nod in return before the young man turned his back. Elora shut the door behind him and took the latter with him to the desk where Sevika was waiting. She looked displeased, glowering in his direction with her thighs still spread and her hands gripping the edge of the desk. She managed to remain imposing even with nothing on except for a black sleeveless shirt and her strap on.

"Our next meeting is canceled," Elora said. And for a moment, the scowling line of her mouth and furrow in her brow softened into an expression of genuine disappointment. He couldn't tolerate it. He set the envelope down at the far end of the desk, then closed the space between them again.

He didn't give her the chance to speak. They both knew this was unfair. They both knew it was likely a targeted slight. There was no point in discussing it. He cupped her handsome face in both hands, tracing her sharp cheekbones with the pads of his thumbs, and said, "Don't worry, I'll handle it." He could see a storm building behind her gray eyes, competing with the lust that lingered there. He pressed himself against her and felt her wrap her right arm around him as she had before, her left hand landing on his hip. He took the invitation for what it was and kissed her.

It wasn't a minute of Elora's lips sliding against her own before Sevika wanted to grab at the hands on her face to put them somewhere lower. Today's assembly in the chambers hadn't been a complete waste of time. She'd chalk that up as today's win. One was enough. One round with Elora, however, wasn't nearly enough. At the first low sound she made, he smoothed his hands down the sides of her neck to grasp her shoulders and held her fast as he pulled back.

"Turn around and bend over. You're taking my whole hand," he said.

Sevika's brows shot up, but her grip on him tightened. The thought of being split open to that point again for the first time in what felt like ages, by the lovely boy who'd managed it the first time, in this office of all places, made her cunt twitch. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to manage it, but if they suddenly had hours and he wasn't kicking right into work mode, she'd take it.

She still had to push back out of principle. Even if his hands running down both of her arms before he grabbed her by her bare hips distracted her for a moment. "Who's the one in charge here, pretty boy?" She watched his shapely lips form a slight curl. His soft, elegant hands reached around to grab her by the ass she had been perching on the desk.

"Look down at yourself to find our answer, handsome," he said. He gave the round, firm flesh in his hand a squeeze before letting her go and stepping back. "Do that later, if you would be so kind, actually. I would like to refrain from repeating myself." He unbuttoned the cuff of his right sleeve and began to carefully roll it up his arm.

Sevika eyed him with a smirk growing on her own face. "Showing some more skin to convince me?" She chuckled. "I'm shocked you didn't stop at the wrist."

Elora tilted his head as he continued carefully tucking the fabric of his sleeve into itself, attempting to minimize wrinkles. "This is to prevent from staining my sleeve. You've already made a mess of yourself, mi amor, and if this goes the way I would like it to, we won't have time for me to change."

How many times had Sevika been put on her back foot by him? She'd lost track. Today? Three times at the very least. That was the kind of thing she scolded girls for. To have him call her on the way her inner thighs already felt sticky. How she was already getting hard again from his light scolding. She glanced at the hand he'd been fucking her with already and took a deep breath. She wanted it. She wanted to take it until she was such a mess she managed to ruin something on his pristine clothing anyway.

He took a step back, forcing her to either put up more of a fight by clinging or let him go. She released him and turned around once she had enough room. He watched her pause and reached up to smooth a hand across her broad back, the sculpted muscle he knew was underneath her deep brown skin concealed by soft black fabric. "Would you prefer another position?" he asked. "Or taking this to the couch?" The offers were genuine; as much as he loved the idea of worshipping her in this particular spot, he would adjust any plans he had in favor of whatever she desired more.

Sevika sighed and shoved at the accessories and fabric scattered across the desk behind her. It forced the folders out of their perfect parallel lines on the far side of it, but she couldn't bring herself to care. She wouldn't apologize for disrupting his presentation of her documents. She assumed that her bending over in front of him would take priority, and she was right. She felt both of his hands land on her ass cheeks as soon as she brought her lower abdomen flush with the edge of the polished wood.

"Go for it," she said. She wouldn't beg him still. She never did that if she could help it, but she knew he needed orders to follow. Permission to pry her fully open.

Elora dropped to his knees again. Just one more time before he set himself to right and did as he was told. He pressed his fingertips into the luscious muscle offered to him and spread her open enough for him to press his face between her round cheeks. He heard her moan at the first touch of his outstretched tongue to her honeyed flesh. So slick already, but it wouldn't be enough to take his fist. He couldn't much remedy that with his mouth, either, but he just needed to taste her again.

He dragged his tongue through the thick lips of her cunt with a low sound of bliss, his senses suddenly swimming with her scent, her rich, tangy flavor, the weight of her in his hands, the soft rub of her skin. He was getting slicker by the second in his own boxers, completely denied by how desperate he was to serve her. He felt the need to work twice as hard now that they'd been handed another setback by that messenger. He would empty her mind of any stress that had come from the interruption. He would unwind the stress that had bound itself up in her earlier than that, in the Council chamber. 

Sevika rocked back, placing more of her weight on her heels, just as she felt him drawing away. She huffed in open disappointment until she felt those fingers gliding over her hole again. He didn't hesitate to dip them back in, two at once, and she shifted to stand over the desk with her legs further apart. Inviting him silently. And she felt his other hand running up her thigh, over her hip, to grab her by the waist. A self-satisfied smile curled her lips as she bent her arms and laid down flat on the desk. Eager boy. He'd learned from her.

Elora sighed as he slid in to the knuckle, slowly hooking his fingers as he had before. He spread them apart, pressing outward against the slick heat surrounding him. It was easy to add a third, and he repeated the motion until the woman bowed in front of him let out a low hiss. He would have hesitated at that point if she hadn't rocked back into him, demanding more. He let go of her waist, reaching into the pocket of his trousers, and withdrew the small bottle he had stashed there. He set it down on the desk beside her.

Sevika heard the sound of something hitting the wood beneath her and picked her head up to see what it was. She let out a low chuckle even as she felt the slight burn of him stretching her deeper than he had before. "When'd you get your hands on that?" How long had he been planning to stuff her beyond what she could get wet enough for? She knew that jar was from this desk, and they had been in here before the Council convened.

Elora planted his hand on Sevika's back, between her wide shoulders, and followed the line of her spine as he slowly pumped his fingers back and forth. He watched her shoulder blades shift, the waxy, scarred skin on the left side stretching under the black fabric covering it. He spread all three of his fingers apart, and she shivered. Her breathing was already ragged, but that was all she let him hear. It wasn't enough.

He withdrew again, this time grabbing the bottle and opening it so he could add the contents of it to the wet stickiness that had already been making it so easy to fill her. It was a cool contrast to her feverish flesh, but it wouldn't last long that way. He pointed his middle and ring fingers together, the tip of one resting on top of the other, and entered her again. He had no intention of teasing anymore. He would fuck her open the way she did to him. And Mel. And had done to countless others beyond the partners they shared.

For several long moments, the two of them breathed together as he slid in his pointer finger alongside the other two. The tips of his first and third fingers touching inside of the older woman, the length of them sinking in until her warm arousal could begin coating his palm again.

"Fuck, that's good," Sevika groaned. He wasn't as focused on curling or thrusting now. He'd loosened her up already, and his tongue had helped relax her further. She'd folded her arms on top of each other, her right cushioning her from the metal of her left as she rested her forehead against her own rapidly warming skin. His slender digits spread apart for a brief moment, coaxing the depths of her cunt to open as much as the fluttering entrance of it.

Elora rubbed soothing circles on her back as he withdrew just enough to join his pinky to his ring finger. The four of them pressed a deep, shuddering moan out of her. He ran his hand down to the hem of her black wifepleaser, already riding up her back to expose the base of her spine, and slid his hand up underneath it. "Need more, love?" he crooned to her. "Don't worry, I have no intention of stopping. You need this as much as I do."

Sevika could have spat out a demand for him to watch his mouth again or told him to swap places with her so she could bury the strap dangling between her spread thighs in him instead. She knew he was ruining his boxers all over again just from fucking her. But she wanted him to stretch her more. Wanted to feel impaled over this stupid, gaudy desk in this room the size of a warehouse near the top of a tower she'd never wanted to set foot in. Doing shit like this made it worth it. She'd hate sitting in the chair across from her later less if she could remember how it felt to have this beautiful boy shove his fist into her.

She didn't say a word. She rocked her hips to feel his fingers sliding back and forth, the stretch at the base of them giving her the slivers of pain she had been aching for. She arched her back with a breathless curse as he matched her motions, withdrawing slightly when she leaned further into the desk, then sinking in as she shifted back again. Over and over, they built a slow rhythm where he bottomed out inside of her each time.

And she couldn't control herself through it. Not how she sounded, at least. Chest-deep rumblings were broken by softer sounds. Moaning, sighs, and finally a gasp when he dripped more lube onto her and grabbed her by the hip. He dug his fingertips into the wide curve of it and pressed his own crotch to her left thigh.

"Hold still, mi amor. I don't want this to hurt in the bad way." His voice was soft, a stark contrast to his almost bruising grip on her. He had borrowed that language from her. She loved indulging in pain. She wasn't nearly the only one among their shared lovers who felt that way. But there was a difference between hurt and harm that she had taught him alongside so much else. She clearly wanted the kind of aching stretch that he craved from her larger straps, the monstrous ones. Where he'd struggle to stand afterward and grow hard at the pangs in his lower abdomen when he sat down.

Sevika did as she was told without a hint of protest. This was the part where he needed her effort. It wasn't enough for her to stand here and take it, she needed to remain relaxed. To not clench around him the way that felt natural when he pressed and pushed more waves of sharpening pleasure through her. She sucked in a deep breath, her stomach expanding and lifting her atop the desk for a moment. As she slowly released it, she felt him adding more lube. And then pushing further in.

Elora watched with a combination of lustful wonder and concern as the puffy rim of her cunt stretched further and further. He had tucked his thumb in tight against his palm, the tip of it resting against the inside of his middle finger's third joint. He could feel a strain from holding his fingers in position, but he refused to break it. He wouldn't be able to fully penetrate her otherwise. He paused at the point where his palm began, his fine-boned knuckles flush with the fluttering hole of his lover. Her panting was ragged at this point. He realized he had been holding his breath. Waiting for her to ask him to stop. Waiting for a sound of genuine pain.

None of it came. Sevika of Zaun remained bent over the desk of the Kiramman family with her back arched and her cunt dripping down her inner thighs. Had some of it gotten onto the rug underneath the two of them? He had no idea, but he hoped it had. He wanted this whole room stained with her pleasure. 

He breached her with his major knuckles slowly. He forced himself to breathe through it as he felt the strain this was putting on her. Her flesh felt taut against his, but she was warm and slick as ever. The slide was the easy part. Whether he would fit was harder. He knew he could from prior instances, but each time it took patience.

"You're doing so well, mi amor," he sighed to her. He slid his hand up from her hip to her waist again, hiking up her wifepleaser and keeping her anchored. He paused and waited for resistance. She still offered none, only panting and groaning quietly into the crook of her right arm.

Sevika felt his fingertips pressing into some deep, hidden part of her that was rarely reached as he kept moving. She had passed the broadest point of his hand already, but there was a ways to go. It wasn't enough yet. There was still his palm. That soft little palm with gold sparkling in the lines that reached across it; Mel had memorized even that detail of his body. But she hadn't felt any part of him inside of her before Sevika had changed his shape, molded him into a lover even she could trust with this.

"Keep goin'," she muttered. "Gimme the whole thing, boy." She'd dropped half of his usual nickname in making the demand. She wanted him to hear her certainty. This was starting to really make her ache, but she was damn near grinning about it. Let him reach his wrist and maybe she would beg. She heaved another sigh and let herself melt onto the solid surface of the desk as he turned his hand and slid in even deeper.

Elora could have met her with a taunt or the kind of banter he had been offering before. He didn't. She looked too lovely as he hiked the last piece of clothing covering her up higher and higher, exposing the endless expanse of her scarred back to him. He bowed over her and pressed a kiss to the dip in her spine just before the swell of her ass. She shivered, flexing her shoulder blades beneath his fingertips. "We're almost there, mi amor. Breathe for me," he said.

Sevika felt his fingers curling inside her again, only it wasn't the hooking motions used to stroke her engorged clit from the other side, he was bringing his fingers in toward each other. She could feel as he formed a fist, and finally, his palm sank in to the wrist. Sevika's knees felt weak, and she was grateful for a second that this desk was a million pounds, because she could go limp on it without so much as a creak from the wood.

She could feel every tiny move of Elora's fingers inside her as his fist forced her cunt into a shape it almost never took. Every shaky breath she managed to suck in was shot through with soft moans, even a whimper when he tightened his fist and turned it. "F-Fuck, don't-," she swallowed and forced the words out before he thought she was asking him to stop, "-don't pull out. Lemme get used to it." She whined at the feeling of his hand roaming her back again.

"I wouldn't dream of it, querida. You're so beautiful like this. Just enjoy yourself," he said. His voice was as much a caress on her overwhelmed senses as the hand now making its way back to her hip. He pressed his lips together to stifle a soft moan of his own as the slick muscles he had pushed to their limits squeezed him. That had to hurt in the best way. He leaned his full weight on the back of her thigh, then bowed over her ass. He rested his cheek on the bare skin of her back, flexing his fingers again to pull another moan from her.

There couldn't be much movement when it came to this. No rocking or thrusting. Just the unyielding outward press of a massive intrusion within Sevika. She swore she could feel those delicate knuckles in her stomach as he bent them to constrict his fist more tightly. She hissed out another curse as he turned his hand over yet again, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade as he slid his hand between her upper stomach and the desk. She knew where he was aiming for, the greedy thing. She picked her head up from where she'd crammed it into the crook of her right arm and braced herself on her elbows.

Elora understood the invitation and ran his hand further up still. He hiked the fabric bunched up underneath her right breast over the softness hanging over the desk. A breathless moan ghosted across her skin when he rolled her hard nipple between his fingertips and felt her squeeze him. He kissed his way to the center of her back, arm outstretched to keep toying with her nipple. He shifted his fingers again to press outward more, feeling her walls fluttering as if to expel him. The broken sound that drew from her made him smile into the curve of her spine.

"Don't gotta...be gentle there," she said. "Already got...a fist in me. Why bother." Her words were spaced out by her quivering breaths. Her chest was already sensitive as hell, to the point that she usually steered lovers away from giving it too much attention, but she was already feeling split in fucking half. What difference would some more barely tolerable pleasure make? She could feel her heartbeat in her goddamn teeth, and he was making it worse by the second.

She dropped her head down when he pinched and tugged at her nipple in the same moment he rotated his wrist to give her more internal friction. The sensations of pure electricity racing from the hardened nub in his fingers and tortured rim of her cunt seemed to meet in the middle and shocked her brain numb. "Fuck! Ah- s-shit, baby-!" she babbled. Her teeth ground together as a sound of near agony followed him palming at her tit and slowly uncurling his fist.

Sevika was shaking underneath him as Elora continued his experimental movements, alternating between massaging the supple flesh in his right hand and pinching at the hardness in its center. Every time he gave her a little tug, she clenched weakly around him. Her dripping cunt could only manage so much when taking the shape of his fist. He hummed low and followed the line of her spine down again. He wanted to see how she'd react to another part of her being toyed with while she was soaking his wrist.

Sevika collapsed back down onto the desk as soon as he quit giving her tit so much attention. She was fighting to get air in, resting her forehead on her right arm again as her jaw hung loose. She wasn't even aware a trickle of drool had slithered out from between her full lips and dripped onto the desk. Only that Elora's lips were brushing the small of her back, making her tighten again. And then they were on one of her ass cheeks. He had to be kneeling.

The sound Sevika made when Elora reached beneath the hand he'd crammed inside of her to stroke her throbbing clit between two of his fingers would be burned into his mind for the rest of his life. A brief, crackling keen that plummeted into a growl so deep and resonant it felt like it should have shook the desk and the windows behind it. She writhed atop the desk like she was trying to crawl away, but there was nowhere for her to go. Her legs trembled, her knees bending, but not enough for her to drop onto the floor.

Elora rotated his hand again and ground his palm against the swollen length of her, fingertips brushing the shaft of the strap still dangling in front of her cunt. And he felt her squeeze his fist tighter than ever before. He broke out into a grin and planted a kiss on her ass cheek that was almost cruel in its gentleness.

"Can't-" she gasped out.

Elora rubbed his palm back and forth, curling his hand into a tighter fist to give her the chance to keep clenching. She did. And he heard something scrape the surface of the desk. She was clawing at it. "That is not our safeword, love."

"Fuckin'- evil boy-," she managed through gritted teeth.

Elora allowed himself a decadent chuckle, rocking his palm back and forth against her as she twitched and jerked like she was fighting the urge to move her hips with him. She probably felt like she couldn't with his fist lodged inside her. He felt her contract again, then again, the involuntary motions occurring closer together.

"Can't fuckin' cum like this-" she whined. "Can't-"

"Yes you can, mi amor," he said. He kissed the back of her thigh and continued gathering her slick in his right palm. Her scorching walls reacted to every bit of friction, encouraging him to continue as he was, keeping her stuffed past the point of lingering strain.

Sevika tried to deny it again. She couldn't get her mouth to form words anymore. Couldn't get her lips to press together. She was panting and groaning aloud, rocking onto her toes like she'd somehow be able to run from the scalding pleasure that consumed her. Too much. It was too much. Had been more than she could handle before he started jerking her off again. She'd lost her voice and her mind between his ruthless hands.

And something did break when he dragged his palm across her pulsing clit to stroke her with his fingers again. Rapid contractions around the tight fist he'd kept his hand in. Her voice, fractured and guttural, echoing around the room as he slowly pointed his fingers again. Her whole body rigid and shuddering, her left arm glowing such a vibrant neon green for a moment it was visible even in the afternoon light. Tears rolled down her cheeks, dropping onto a folder he'd laid out for her.

Elora withdrew from her as carefully as he'd pressed in. He moved with agonizing slowness as his knuckles spread her out to her limit again. He marveled at the sheen on his own skin. Evidence of her arousal that he could taste and feel lingering on him even as he lost the blissful pressure of her cunt around him. He licked his right hand clean without hesitating, staring at the gaping void of his lover's pussy as it twitched in an attempt to adjust to his absence.

He leaned forward to kiss her cum-slicked inner thigh, feeling her thighs still quivering against his skin. His right hand smoothed along the outside of it. The sound of her ragged panting above him curled his lips into a self-satisfied smile. "You did so well, mi amor."

Sevika slowly pushed herself up on shaky arms, still breathing as heavy as she did after a brawl. "Goddamn right," she said. "You ever killed somebody this way, pretty boy? Almost did me in, fuck."

Elora chuckled as he wiped off his left hand to further saturate the handkerchief he was keeping as a souvenir. He would need to properly wash it before they stepped out again, but for now, he liked the lingering, sticky dampness that clung to his skin. He grabbed her by the hips to pull himself up to stand. He wrapped his arms around his waist and squeezed her tight, kissing her between her shoulder blades, just beneath her neck. "Do you want another drink?" he asked.

"Gimme a second. Janna, you're a piece of fuckin' work," she muttered. Her voice was a rasp, and her heart was still jumping between her ribs. She needed to sit down, but part of her wasn't sure if she'd make it to the couch across the room. Her cunt was aching inside and out, her clit so hard she didn't want to close her thighs to walk and give it any more friction. Shit, she'd have to put her pants back on at some point. She'd think about that later.

Elora chuckled and rubbed his cheek against her heated skin. She was slippery all over and smelled like musk and clean sweat along with a hint of smoke that lingered from an earlier break. He was sure she'd want some more of that. He would be happy to provide. Maybe even partake. He certainly felt that he'd earned it.

It was several long moments of him clinging to her, feeling her breathe into the arms he'd lashed around her, listening to her heartbeat, before she rolled her shoulders back and straightened to her full height. She shoved her harness off her hips and stepped out of it, then left it on the desk with everything else that had been discarded so he could fuck the brakes off of her. He let her go so she could turn and head for the couch. He made his way around the desk with a smile still curling his lips to fetch her a few things before he joined her. The cigarette case from inside of the pouch she kept tucked into her pants, a glass bottle of chilled water from the ice box beside the liquor cabinet, and two ripe peaches from a basket on top of the cabinet.

He stepped past the divider surrounding the couch and found her standing by the couch rather than sitting. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

She beckoned him with her metal fingers. "Gimme that cloth you keep using. I'll sit on that so we don't gotta launder this whole thing."

Elora offered her the bottle to free up one of his hands. Then she took the peaches with her other. He pulled out the handkerchief and flicked it open, placing it on one of the cushions. It was large enough when fully unfolded to span a full square, and would provide enough coverage for her to sit with her legs spread as she normally did. He took the peaches from her as she dropped herself onto it with a huff. He eyed her thick thighs as she settled onto it with them spread wide open enough for him to see her glistening cunt still on display. His boxers were ruined, soaked clean through to the point that he was sure he'd created another wet patch in his pants. Part of him ached to feel all that muscle under him again.

Sevika sank back into the couch with her left arm splayed out across the back of it, her right hand popping open the cap on the bottle so she could drain half of it in one go. Elora had wrung her dry, but she had to spare him a sip or two. She eyed him as he carefully toed off his shoes and left them by the couch so he could climb onto it. He leaned into her left side, tucking his legs beneath him. She dropped her arm around him and tugged him in closer.

Neither of them spoke for the moment. Elora reached back into his waistcoat and withdrew another knife. This one was serrated. He sliced one of the peaches in half, then cut it down further and held up a piece for her.

It was the kind of thing that would normally get on Sevika's nerves. She wasn't a child who needed to be handfed. She knew he didn't mean it that way. Hell, he probably felt like he owed it to her after fucking her so deep she still felt an ache blooming in what felt like her stomach. So she accepted the sweet piece of fruit and set the bottle down. She'd give it to him when he asked for it.

He alternated slices between the two of them until both fruits were gone and he was left with two pits that he skewered on the blade and set on the opposite arm of the couch like a playful warning. For who, it wasn't clear. He cleared his throat before trying to reach across her for the bottle. She tightened her left arm around him so she could hand it off instead. He finished its contents and returned it to the floor before he curled up tighter under the heated metal she covered him with.

Sevika let her eyes close as she felt him wrap his arms around her waist again. The pressure was welcome. Made her feel like he was squeezing her back together after blasting her to pieces. She felt her heartbeat slow to an even pace again. Her head clearing until she could pick it up again and reach across her own torso to cup his face. He'd shut his eyes, too, cheek pressed into the bound side of her chest. He looked quite peaceful. Not the calm mask he wore. Genuine contentment.

His eyes opened when she smoothed a rough thumb over his lips. He pursed them to press a kiss to the pad of the finger. Then moved up on his knees and unlaced his fingers. One hand rested between her shoulders while the other splayed out over her sternum. He tilted his head to press into her hand as it slid past his face to cup the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair.

Sevika kissed him. Slow. Gentle. And it made her heart start to race under his hand all over again. He didn't deepen it. Didn't smear her tongue with her own flavor; she could smell herself on his face. He didn't grope her or roll his body against her. Just pressed in close and held her. She wanted more of this, too.

She broke the kiss after several quiet moments of bliss and ran her left hand down his back. She gave him another squeeze, trying to pull him further into her, as if that were possible. He wrapped his arms around her neck and tossed a leg over her left thigh. He hummed softly as he pressed his face into the side of her neck and melted into her, his knees framing her thigh. He settled his full weight on it, and she felt herself soothed further by the pressure. She had meant to ask him for one of the blunts she'd brought with her. That could wait. This felt better than whatever high waited for her after a few puffs of smoke.

Elora dragged his fingertips through the buzzed hair at the back of her head until she let out a low, pleased hum, and smiled into the scarred skin against his face. He felt her hands settle on him, one at the small of his back while the other held the side of his thigh. Both were cradled in the other. Both were at ease.

Whatever waited for them outside of each other's arms, whoever they had to become, didn't matter yet.

Shoutout to my wonderful loved ones for contributing to Sevika's staffers!!

My amazing girlfriend @sevikaslatinawife for Jackal, the Head of Security!

My friend @glossyduckie for Anais, the Surgeon General!

My #1 enabler @melmunchmedarda for Amadea, the Chief Engineer!

My friend @nocturnalfemme for Starlisa, the Communications Liaison!

And the newest person I've dragged into this little canon of mine @dykeasaurwrites for Bruise, the Director of Youth Programs!

Thank you all for trusting me with your barbies! I can't wait to write more of them!

Credit to @olenvasynyt for the purple dividers

Credit to @strangergraphics for the gold lace dividers

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the art deco gold dividers

Elora woke first. He always woke first. Before the sun cleared the horizon, before Mel snapped to attention after a restless night, before the day's demands could reach him. Before Sevika. It would just be the two of them today, none of their other partners were present in the penthouse emblazoned with the Medarda Clan seal. He was content with that. He understood his duties to her well, beginning with an attempt to wriggle out from under the massive arm draped over him.

He thought it was sweet that she liked to hold her partners so close in her sleep. That she preferred to doze off with a face full of their hair, or otherwise against their skin somewhere, her deep, rumbling snores vibrating against them. Her heart beating steady and slow in her chest, sometimes under a hand or a cheek. Sometimes, like right now, against his back. And as much as he enjoyed the pressure, the warmth of her, the puffs of air against the crown of his head he wanted to have everything ready for her when it came time for her to get up and start their day.

She rolled onto her stomach, brows furrowing ever so slightly in what might have become a pout if she was awake, when he freed himself from her grip. The disruption proved to be enough for her eyes to open a few minutes later. It had been enough time for him to line up everything needed to get her started. While she pushed herself up with her right arm and rubbed the rough hand that had been holding onto him over her face, he flicked the switches for a couple of lamps in the room. Some of their partners liked the curtains drawn back so they could greet the sun. She was not one of them.

"Already fussin'?" she mumbled. "Quit it. 'm alright takin' care of myself." She ran her fingers through her straight black hair, undoing some of the tangles that had appeared in it while she slept. It fell right back into her face as she turned to look at him.

Elora felt his lips twitch with the urge to beam in her face. Her speech, slurred with lingering grogginess, managed to come across as more cute than alluring. At least to him. Mel could barely register a word of anything she said when she sounded this way. "I am well aware of that," he said. "There are fresh towels for you in the bathroom. Please take your time." He watched her huff and push herself to stand, bowing back until her spine audibly popped.

He didn't linger as she stretched, as much as he wanted to. There was too much to be done. She would eat first, but he cooked for both of them, with her portion being heavier on protein and fiber. He felt like he had a lifetime of nutrition to catch her up on. How she had managed to maintain her size and stamina for over forty years was staggering. It reminded him of the mercenaries for hire who lingered in the seedier taverns of Noxus, the memory of them distant and blurred around the edges. Bulky figures who would linger at all hours downstairs at the inn where he had lived before meeting Mel. All they ever seemed to consume was alcohol and yet they remained tireless and towering.

Sevika would have better. She would have a pot of spiced coffee sat atop a small platform with a candle underneath so it stayed hot. She would have a plate piled high with blanched, seasoned vegetables and cured meat and warm bread and a thick, savory porridge to drink. If she didn't feel the buckles of her belts needed to be loosened at least a fraction by the time she was done, he had failed her.

He left the table set for the two of them and returned to the bedroom just in time for her to walk back into it with a towel draped over her head. Her body was already dry, and she had left it bare for the moment, focused on pressing the dampness out of her hair with her right hand. Elora watched for a long moment, entranced by the dance of muscle and sinew beneath her deep brown skin, the barely perceptible glow of scars that branched out down her left side, pulsing in time with the beat of her heart. They reminded him of the gold scarring that had laced its way around his own body, Mel's magic embedded into his skin in the shape of the thorns that had lashed themselves around his body and snapped his very being into nonexistence.

He smiled to himself at the slight softening that had appeared around her lower abdomen, telling himself he was just examining whether her new diet was working and not gawking at the thick trail of hair that spread from her belly button to the nest of hair between her thighs.

She left the towel over the back of a chair at Mel's vanity and eyed the gear he had laid out on top of it. Without Mel here, this became the spot where she got ready instead. Before she could even look for her boxers, Elora had brought them to her. She took them with a quiet noise of acknowledgement and pulled them on as he picked up the roll of tape on the vanity. She turned the chair around before she sat in it. No point in staring at herself while they underwent this process. It made her scars itch.

Elora knelt on the left side of her and began by applying a soft, rubbery covering to her left nipple. Her skin had to be clean and dry for this whole process, hence the shower beforehand, and he lapsed into a methodical, almost meditative state as he unrolled a section of the tape and snipped it with a small scissor. He taped over her nipple first, then set out cutting longer strips. He curved each of the corners before he set the scissor down and partially peeled the tape to prepare it for application.

Sevika didn't like any process she couldn't sort a way to do herself in any state. She'd loathed losing her arm in the first place. The helplessness had infuriated her so much she convinced herself she remembered that better than the excruciating pain she had been in. She had despised every moment of dependence on others, and she had taught herself to keep her prosthetic in workable shape on her own just so it would never happen again. But it had. And then it had happened again.

She kept waiting for a wave of nausea to roll over her. For her heart to start rattling around her chest and pressing a feeling of panic through her veins. For the fingertips of her right hand to grow frosty with a contemptuous anxiety that would linger for the rest of the day. It didn't happen. She felt Elora's soft, slender fingers pressing and pulling at her left breast, flattening tissue so he could tape it down. He rubbed over the tape in firm, small circles to make sure it all remained in place, then repeated the process. Over and over, he covered more of her scorched, waxy skin with the same precision and care he used for everything.

Whether he was composing letters for Mel or someone else on her staff or gathering intelligence or cleaning up after a meal, he always approached it as if assisting his partners was the single most important task in the world. Everything received his full dedication and attention. She struggled to feel that was worth it when it came to something she can't do in return. She knew it didn't matter to him. This was his duty. She felt him smoothing over the tape and took a deep breath to test how tight everything was. He'd done an excellent job again. He always did.

Elora stood to get the sleeve that would go over the stump of her left shoulder next, idly resting his hand on it as she let her posture slump. "Does it feel comfortable so far?" he asked. When she nodded, he picked up the sleeve to wrap it over and around the smoothed out angle of her shoulder where it had been amputated.

She had told him the story. In flat, dispassionate tones. The picture she had painted of her recovery had been bleak beyond comprehension save for the presence of Ran as a caretaker. It was part of why he tried to make this ritual a pleasant one. He never rushed it, and he was deliberate in how and where he touched her, even when she avoided eye contact. Even when she clenched her jaw tight enough that he could see the muscles in it tick.

He left a gap in the center of where the sleeve folded in on itself, the two layers adhering to each other. What followed after it was a large, solid brass metal piece that acted as a docking mechanism. It had been important for her and the engineer from the Firelights that she be able to fully remove everything if she wanted. Her first prosthetic, the one powered by shimmer that she had commissioned as soon as she had been lucid following her amputation, had been attached directly to her with almost no protection for her skin. That damage lingered in the scarring of flesh rubbed open and raw over and over again for nearly a decade. He was happy to be able to cover it. To protect her from at least some unnecessary pain.

He secured the docking piece with a strap that looped around her neck, a holdover from the arm Jinx had augmented for her years earlier. Before the war. When Piltover had occupied Zaun under the authority of Ambessa and her protege at the time, Caitlyn Kiramman. Elora had only heard stories of that time, too. He had been…gone. As had Mel. But he banished that train of thought as he pressed the piece into place, the center of it fitting cleanly into the gap he had left for it.

Sevika stood as he turned to pick up the prosthetic itself. According to Ran and those who had known her as an underboss, the shape of it still resembled her commission. Sleek, efficient, a combination of elegant adornments that seamlessly accompanied mechanisms left to operate out in the open like muscle with the skin flayed off. The materials provided to their engineer by Mel, copper, brass, iron, and a glass that could have passed for a carved gemstone, were of the highest quality that could be procured. Every surface shone with a pristine polish that Elora was proud to catch his reflection in. It was a compromise she didn't always wear on her person. Zaunite engineering and ingenuity shaping pure elements presented in peak condition.

He followed her to the bed. She crawled into the center of it and sat with one foot tucked under her other leg, her right arm resting on her own knee as she waited for him to join her. She started taking deep breaths when she glanced over and saw he had positioned the shoulder of the prosthetic against the docking piece. There was pressure she could feel through the padded sleeve he had wrapped her with and the satisfying clunk of a clean assembly. It had been a few days since she'd heard that sound. She braced herself, eyes squeezing shut, and felt his hand on her back.

She registered the press of his skin into hers, right between her shoulder blades, a second before everything else hit. Not the fire in her veins and racing heart and sharpening senses of shimmer. A jolt of pure energetic feedback. Too strong to be called a shock. It clawed up the side of her neck as she craned it back and locked up the muscle. Her jaw clenched so tight her teeth audibly ground together. Her heart did beat harder, and she felt it behind her eyes, in her gums, in the twitching fingers of her right hand.

She felt Elora press against her right side, and she focused on that. One hand rested over her spine, at the middle of her back, far from where she was feeling the sting of her body adjusting to gears and hydraulics in place of ligaments and veins. She blindly grabbed at him, lashing her right arm around his waist and yanking him flush against her. He covered the hand pressing into him with his own and laced his fingers together with hers. He didn't run as hot as she did, and the sensation was a welcome one. Soft skin on hers, his fingers squeezing, his lips pressed to her right shoulder.

Elora kept his grip on her firm. No feathery touches when she was in this state. He had learned that put her ill at ease quickly as he had learned this routine from another partner of theirs. The one who had seen her through the destruction of her first prosthetic, the strain and struggle of its replacement, and the creation of this one. She needed to be held together. Needed stability and certainty that she was here and held and could trust that her temporary weakness would not become a source of danger.

He was a shadow for Mel. Had been since they arrived here. Even before that. Nothing about his presence was meant to project strength or intimidate. He was a source of reassurance and information, a convenience, a living piece of infrastructure in the lives of those he served. In the world of his beloved above all. He had not expected to become a source of comfort for someone who embodied the kind of tenacity and endurance and unrelenting resilience he had grown up mythologizing. And she carried it well. Shouldered the grief and rage and sins of an entire city for decades with a straight spine and clear eyes.

How could he not be drawn into her orbit? Bend toward her to offer what he could? There was so much to admire in how she had adorned herself with as much flair as the leaders of the High Houses and refused to cower in the face of constant scrutiny, rejection, and outright bigotry. There was just as much to admire in the hard way she set her handsome features, the statuesque build she could move with stunning agility, the casual dominance and confidence of how she held herself. He had adored the androgyny of her from the moment he had set eyes on her. He had been enchanted by the low, smooth, musical timbre of her voice and even more taken by the sway in her walk. He was certain part of it came with her amputation, her prosthetic, the way her body had to adjust to whether it was bearing extra weight, but his instincts told him she must have always had a saunter in her step. Something like the way Mel always glided along, the swinging of her hips mesmerising almost everyone who witnessed it.

He had wanted to be something like her. Something in the shape of how she took up space in the world. Not jagged around the edges, not forged by the same merciless misery, but a tool of similar purpose nonetheless. Let me stand guard. Let me bear your burdens. Let me bleed and bruise for you.

He was pulled from his reverie by the sound of her sucking in a sharp breath and sighing. And he picked his head up, rose to his knees, so he could reach her face. He wound his fingers into the short hair at the side of her head. He pressed a kiss to her cheek, and he felt her lean in closer, squeezing his hand. "How long do you need?" They had time. He had expected this and given himself plenty of time to give her.

"Couple minutes," she said. Her voice was harsher, breathless. She loosened her grip on his hand, keeping herself bowed forward until he kissed her cheek again. She huffed out a little laugh and turned her head. Their noses bumped together as she returned the gesture. The kiss was gentle, but she lingered in it. She slowly curled and spread out the fingers of her left hand. Then bent it at the elbow. Then lifted it up to cover the hand cradling her head.

Once she felt fully in control of it, able to release the tension that had coiled in the muscles of her upper body, she let Elora go. "Meet me in the dressing room after you clean up?" she said.

"I look forward to it, mi amor," he said.

Elora was torn. He should be running through her tasks and appointments for the day. Instead, he was peering up into the stony face of his lover as she buttoned up his shirt over his binder and undershirt. The slate gray eyes fixed on the task at hand flicked to meet hers, then back down again.

"What're you looking at?" the older woman muttered. She grabbed at the tie draped over her shoulder with her left hand, smooth copper fingers grasping the silky fabric with ease. She looped it around his neck under his collar and set to tying it with the same mechanical efficiency she had used with his buttons.

"Do you want me to answer that honestly, mi amor?" he asked. A smile curled his lips when her brows furrowed and her neutral scowl became more of a pout. Any pet name from their partners or him caused this reaction in her. It was adorable every single time.

She huffed quietly and shook her head. "You can quit putting the moves on me. Startin' to think I taught you too well." She straightened back up to her full height and patted him on the sternum. "You can head out. I'll be right behind you."

He shook his head and clasped his hands in front of him. He met her hard gaze with a smile. She really should be used to this by now. He never accepted her dismissals, and neither did their other lovers. "That is not what we agreed upon. It's my turn." He turned to the hanger and velvet-lined box of accessories waiting on the shelf beside them and picked up the black wrap shirt first.

Sevika had her hand on her hip, eyeing him and the shirt with a touch of wary frustration. She couldn't get rid of him or Mel or the others when they were determined to dote on her like this. She heaved a sigh and grabbed the shirt from him with her right hand. "You get the belts."

While she shrugged her right arm into the sleeve and rolled it up with her left hand, he mimicked her actions with his tie; sliding the set of belts she wore around her slender waist off his own shoulder so he could fasten them around her. He purposefully avoided the bulge visible in her pants. He had missed her putting her harness on over her boxers earlier. He centered himself by correcting his own posture and followed the order he had seen her secretary use. The trio of buckles further up at the top of her tight mauve pants, then the wider belt with a single, heavy brass buckle that hung in a diagonal line from her hips. Maybe his hands lingered a bit as he made sure everything was tight enough without making his lover uncomfortable.

"Looking for a reason to grab me?" Sevika said with a hint of amusement. She had fastened the shirt in place over her black wife pleaser and the copper docking piece in her left shoulder. She adjusted the strap that crossed over her right one as he grabbed the pouch she wore on her left hip.

Elora looked up again and stepped close enough to stand with one of his feet between hers and their chests pressed together. "Always, mi amor, you know that," she said. He secured the pouch to the belts he had just put in place, then leaned over to grab the next piece. The one that bore what was arguably her most iconic accessory: a thick shoulder pad decorated with large copper spikes connected to an asymmetrical cape that matched her pants.

Sevika gave him a glare that was half-hearted at best. Her eyes darted down to his lips, still curled in a coy little smile as he wrapped the cape around her broad shoulders. He pulled everything snug, the worn leather piece at her right shoulder molded to the muscle there. His hands lingered, of course, running along the seams of the purple fabric and tapping one of the spikes before he fastened the capelet into place. "You got a watch on you? If we're late, I'm not taking the fall for it."

"We're ahead of schedule thanks to Ran babysitting that bureaucrat, remember? You didn't have to show up to sign those forms in person after all. Don't worry," Elora said. He picked up the last piece. It was his personal favorite for its sheer craftsmanship and mild absurdity; a long, engraved copper lapel that curved beautifully over the right side of her chest attached to a grate that rested between her broad shoulder blades. To those who hadn't witnessed the violence still characteristic of the Undercity, including what was perpetuated by the enforcers who came from Piltover, it would appear to be an aesthetic touch. He knew better. He recognized it for the piece of armor that it was, and according to those who had seen her fight during the occupation, it had protected her more than once already.

Sevika raised a dark brow at that. "Sounds like you're counting on some extra time." She'd be lying to herself if she tried to refuse that he looked damn good in that suit. He carried himself better in it, too. The younger butch was getting far more comfortable with himself as his wardrobe shifted and he was seen more out in the open that way with the others, especially Mel. If he had been helping her get ready, they probably wouldn't make it this far before he dropped to his knees for his lifelong companion.

He smiled as he traced the engravings on her copper lapel, still standing flush against her. "Can you blame me? Turn around and look in the mirror. You're too handsome to resist." He reached up and brushed aside one of the stray locks that dangled in Sevika's face to watch her eyes spark with desire and irritation at the same time. The deep brown skin of her chiseled cheeks took on a warmer shade, and his smile widened.

Sevika ignored the way her face was rapidly heating up. Damn charming, slippery, gorgeous boy. And damn the little purr he got in his voice when he said anything in his native tongue. It had gotten alarmingly seductive as his voice had dropped over the past couple of months. She grabbed his hand and his waist, turning them both around. His weight was easy to bear in her arms, so when he stumbled, she just swept him up with her. "Keep running your mouth and see what happens. Gonna make sure you're too busted to follow me around."

Elora let out a delighted chuckle as the cold surface of the mirror pressed up against his cheek. Sevika had his hand pinned behind his back, gripped in her metal fingers while he could feel her flesh ones kneading his hip through his pressed pants. "Why? Am I too much of a distraction for you? I would be happy to send for Mel or another beloved of ours. Who do you think would be less tempted by you?"

Sevika sighed even as she pressed up behind him, reaching further forward to grab his belt buckle. She felt the smaller butch shove her hips back to rub against her. "You're all shameless sluts," she muttered. "Can't believe I gotta be the voice of reason."

"Not always," Elora said. She wiggled her hips and heard Sevika's breath hitch. Just that small reaction made heat burst between her thighs. "We have forty-five minutes. Let's make good use of them."

Sevika bared her teeth at him and stepped back just enough to turn him back around. She crammed her thigh between his, crowding him against the mirror again with her larger frame and bowed her head to nip at his bottom lip. Her metal fingers were winding his tie around them until the fabric was pulled taut. "Watch yourself, pretty boy. I'm not lettin' you forget who showed you who you are."

Elora hooked his slender fingers into the belts he had just lashed around her and tugged to bring her even closer. "Please remind me, handsome. And remind me again later."

She rolled her eyes and yanked him into a heated kiss. Forty-five minutes? She should be able to make him fold in far less time than that.

Elora clearly wanted to make her earn his surrender, though. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue and licked into her mouth before she could scruff him by his long, silky hair with her right hand. He drew on her bottom lip and leaned up on his toes when she tried to draw away a bit to regain control. He hummed, running his hand up her right side and baiting her to handle him even more roughly by grabbing at her bicep with a surprisingly strong grip.

Sevika grunted into the kiss before she broke it, tearing her mouth away from his and yanking his head back. He had always favored high collars, and that hadn't changed with his new sense of self or style, but there was still skin for her to play with. Along the sloping curve of his narrow jaw, underneath his ear, where tiny gold studs sparkled in the warm light of the dressing room. She felt his hips jerk against her thigh when she teased the shell of his ear with the tip of her tongue in the same moment she tugged on his tie again. He wasn't collared, but he might as well have been the way he followed Mel and the others, including her, like a dutiful service dog.

"Trying to get tossed around, pretty boy? Could just ask if you need it that bad," she said. She felt his low chuckle vibrating against her lips when she drew on a narrow strip of skin on the side of his neck, barely above the collar she'd just buttoned and secured with the silk between her mechanical fingers. She should undo the knot. Open this shirt up again along with the vest over it. He could be bared to her far more easily than he could do the same to her. That was how she preferred it. But the slide of her skin on the thick, supple fabric of his blazer, his hands, soon to be covered by gloves as hers would be, grabbing at her through the layers he had placed on her, it all fed the blaze he'd sparked in her. One she was sure would burn for the rest of the day until it got the chance to scald them both raw.

"Why would I beg when you'll do it anyway?" Elora said. He wrapped his arm around her waist underneath her prosthetic arm and pressed his shoulders back against the mirror. His back arched as his hips rocked, a sigh escaping him when Sevika tugged on his tie harder than before. The knot held. She had tied it skillfully with those deft fingers of hers. Fingers he wanted pressing into him where there already was solid muscle making him throb in his pants.

Sevika felt him clutching at her back, all his desperation escaping him in the short, quick movements of his hips and those slender fingers. He played the part of the brat, but he didn't have the same self-control as Mel. The ability to keep his rapidly changing body from chasing the relief he needed. "You sure I need you for today? Got more than enough time to fold you a few ways." She dropped the hand in his hair to his hip, grabbing at it to guide him to move more. Just watching the flush rise in his cheeks, his light brown eyes glazing over from the added friction and how easily she yanked around his weight.

Elora wanted to grab at her hand, to feel that heavy, hot palm between his own thighs or tormenting his nipples where they were rubbing under his binder with every roll of his body. She wouldn't give him an inch, though, and he knew it. He'd already savored the only sweetness she could afford today. All the rest would be locked away, contained and concealed by the layers of armor he had helped assemble. Both physical and emotional. She was outfitted as a decorated soldier in her own right, and now she would break him down to be able to feel like one.

So he quit pretending like he wanted to fight and surrendered to her grip, letting her drag him back and forth against her thigh. He wished she would open up her pants and bounce him this way on the cock she had tucked into them. The thought alone was enough to make him throb almost painfully in his pressed pants. His head fell back, hair flattened on the surface of the mirror, with his mouth hanging open as she quit tugging on his tie like a leash and grabbed him under his jaw instead. Not quite choking him.

"Look at me," she demanded. She waited until those honey gold eyes fluttered open again. Nothing was quite so satisfying as seeing his normally sharp, perceptive gaze reduced to this; fogged and needy and darkened by lust. "You gonna be good? Wanna help me out?" She watched him try to nod and shoved at him to keep him pinned exactly where he was, smearing the floral oils in his hair all over the surface she knew he'd cleaned himself just the day before.

"Then open up, pretty boy. Got somethin' you're gonna take for me." She slid her hand to his neck, covering the knot she'd tied and the starched collar he was so proud of. She held him, not squeezing to cut anything off, and watched him crane his neck back. His jaw hung open, and with how much taller she was than him, it was easy to bow over him just so.

Elora watched her close her mouth, her lips curled in a smirk that had gotten all over his nerves for months before he'd admitted what he was feeling was attraction. He could see her tongue rolling around in her mouth, and he knew what was coming. He squeezed her thigh with his own as anticipation made his heart pound even harder, a racing pulse he could feel just as strongly between his legs as he could behind his ribs. He clung to her, the fingers of one hand curled into two of her thin belts while the other dug into her right bicep through her sleeve.

Sevika pursed her lips and spat onto his waiting tongue. She grabbed him by the jaw again, still dragging him along the solid surface of her thigh as much as she could with her crushing him into the mirror with her left hand. "Swallow." She watched him roll his tongue back into his mouth and felt the flesh under her hand shift as he obeyed. It was almost enough to make her groan. She brushed her thumb over his bottom lip and tugged his mouth open by hooking the finger into it. "Good boy."

When she bowed and kissed him, cradling his face in her rough, warm hand while the other shamelessly groped his ass, Elora whimpered. She plunged her tongue into his mouth, sliding hers along his and stealing whatever breath hadn't already left him from sheer excitement. He'd never liked the idea of spitting in this way before her. He'd never considered plenty of things. Like how it would feel to completely ruin a pair of boxers right before work and look forward to the sticky feeling as he carried out his duties. Or how badly he wanted her to turn him around again and force him to watch himself be reduced to a tear-streaked, flushed mess.

Sevika could feel him starting to tremble, his hands gripping and tugging as he desperately slotted his mouth together with hers. And she decided she'd be nice. She'd let him get off before they had to get it together again. She took a step back from the mirror, bent her knees, and dropped onto one of the short, upholstered stools that could be used for putting on shoes. She tugged him along with her, grabbing at his legs to hoist him into her lap. It all happened too fast for him to even catch his breath, and she chuckled at the dazed pout that appeared on his handsome face.

"Don't worry, not goin' anywhere," she said. She used her hold on his hips to shift him right where she wanted him. Seated on the cock she'd tucked into her pants for later. Today would be a pain for both of them, and she'd reward him for putting up with it once it was over. Her cloak would cover this up just fine.

Elora's eyes went wide as he felt the friction of something familiar under him. And he pressed forward to lash his arms around her neck at once. "Still teasing?" he breathed. His voice had dropped into that purr again, a delcious rub on her senses as he nuzzled her face and panted against her lips. "How hard do I have to work for it?"

Sevika didn't have to guide his hips for him to go back to grinding on her. She knew he was just chasing his own pleasure now from the sharp, quick little snaps of his hips. "How much shit did you schedule me for?" Her tone was playful. She trusted him to manage her as well as she did her own secretary. But she couldn't cave and give him everything he wanted just for being so cute and desperate.

Elora whined and buried a hand in the back of her hair, scratching as if in apology as he writhed on her. "You'll be on display until dusk. Even during meals." He let out a stuttering little sigh and swiveled his hips as she dug her fingers into his ass through his pants. "Everyone wants a piece of you, I'm afraid."

Sevika huffed and tilted her head to the side, clenching her jaw against a shiver of her own when he squeezed her waist with his legs and moaned in her ear. "What's new," she said. "Had to take yours first?"

Elora picked his head up and cradled her face in both hands when she said that. The look he leveled her with reminded her that he wasn't from Topside. He was from the empire that had tried to conquer it and nearly succeeded. Even still, he pressed down on her crotch with the nimble, practiced motions of a dancer. Or an assassin. "No one will be taking chunks out of you with me on guard. No love of mine shall be humiliated for anyone's sake." His gaze dropped to her scarred lips, stained from decades of abusing whatever substance could get her through the day. He thought they were lovely. Too lovely to stay away from for long.

Sevika could have rolled her eyes over it. Like she needed the protection of someone half her size and almost ten years her junior. Instead she slid a hand up his back and pulled him in by his neck again. He kissed her with open ferocity this time, and she matched him for it. Breath for breath, teeth almost clashing together, lips gliding against each other as he rutted on top of her.

It didn't take long for him to be shuddering again, his deepened voice cracking and climbing as he clutched her and let her hands guide more and more of his movements. It wasn't quite enough, and it was killing him. Sweat beaded at his hairline and trickled down the side of his face as she nipped at his lip, grunted into his mouth, the solid wall of her body keeping him from toppling forward.

"Please." It was a frantic whisper between fierce kisses. No title, just pure need. And it was enough for her to stand, lifting him along with her, and return to the mirror. This time, he was aloft, his feet locked together behind her back, and entirely at her mercy.

She let her chest pin his upper body in place, flashing her sharp canines in a proud smile over the helpless sound of bliss he made when she rocked her hips forward and rubbed the bulge where she was hard packing into the damp spot between his legs. The pants were dark, so no one would be able to see, but he could feel it, and she could see when those lovely eyes rolled back that she'd struck gold.

Elora felt like he was suffocating in all of his layers now, fabric upon fabric and skin getting slicker underneath. His own cock was painfully hard under his soaked boxers. By the gods, had he dripped right through his suit pants too? Would there be a patch on Sevika's pants where she'd ruined him without even filling him? He wished he could spend the whole day like this. Spend every meeting seated on her with her hardness stretching him out under the table.

She dragged the layers of fabric against his rigid dick again, purred something in his ear he couldn't even make out over the blood roaring in it, and he let out a broken sound somewhere between a moan and a sob. His back arched away from the mirror, his hands forming fists in the thick capelet he'd just put on her. And in his certainty that they were alone for now, he allowed himself to cry out as her continued grinding prolonged the heat surging through him in almost agonizing waves.

It would have been funny to just drop Elora right then and there. Or set him aside so Sevika could asses the damage to her own outfit. Instead, she carefully returned to the stool and let her lover shiver and catch his breath in her lap, draped over her and half limp. She reached up with her right hand to comb through the hair she'd tangled by repeatedly pinning him against the mirror, admiring the visible smudge in its smooth surface. A job well done.

Elora was frustratingly stable on his feet once he stood and straightened out his suit again. He was still visibly flushed, but he used a handkerchief monogrammed with a golden "M" to at least get rid of the sheen that had appeared on him. He did the same to Sevika even while she pushed at him to stop.

She draped her own cloak over herself before they left, covering the slightly darkened patch he had left on her.

As they walked through the pristine streets of Piltover, Elora slightly behind her on her right, she finished steeling herself for what waited for her. There would be no comfort or devotion, no respect or safety or even progress, most likely. But she would endure. She always did. At least she wouldn't be alone for it.

Credit to @olenvasynyt for the purple dividers

Credit to @strangergraphics for the gold lace dividers

Credit to @saradika-graphics for the art deco gold dividers