Vassal by Sterling D'Este (reading books for 7 year olds .txt) 📗

the muscles in her long legs flexed and moved as she stretched out beside the flames.

It lit something within Alphonse’s belly, and she had been burning when she came into their tent. And she didn’t care if Tristan or Etienne were asleep yet, or if it was proper or right or sweet as she desired Delyth, as her hands greedily smoothed circles across the planes of Delyth’s flat stomach, working southward diligently.

Whatever part of Alphonse that worried about respectable, orthodox things had melted away, and now all she wanted was Delyth. To make Delyth writhe and gasp and moan and say her name, the way Delyth had done to Alphonse the night before.

More.  Was that her voice? Who cared?

Quickly Alphonse’s hand had found the top of Delyth’s pants, and she yanked on the ties. “Yes? Please say yes,” she whispered into Delyth’s ear as she kissed the shell of it, mouth devouring every inch it could.

༄

Alphonse’s fingertips were coals, her tongue more flame than flesh. Everywhere she pressed against Delyth, rivulets of fire crisped her skin, set her to boiling.

The priestess wasn’t sure if she would melt or billow out in lazy, steam-thick tendrils.

“Yes,” she said. What other answer was there? “Yes, yes, yes.”

The tension around the fire that evening had been palatable, Alphone close, and her eyes boring into Delyth’s. The priestess had known that Alphonse wanted her, that she wanted this, and still, the healer’s eagerness was surprising, heady.

It ate up all the air in the tent.

Delyth let her hands run down Alphonse’s arms, where they clasped around her waist, pressing tight against her sides. She wished she could reach more, wished she could run her fingers over phoenix-feather skin until she burned just as brightly.

❀

“Kneel,” she whispered, bending the knee at the same time the warrior did.

Leisurely, Alphonse let her fingers drift along the top of Delyth’s pants, her other hand mirroring the movements over the tops of Delyth’s breasts. She had been thinking about the journey rather than the destination and…

Well…

Enyo’s fantasies on the subject had been quite instructive.

Alphonse couldn’t disagree with the Goddess; it was stunning. Alphonse could peer over Delyth’s shoulder down the tremendous sight of her body while feeling the length of the priestess’s legs straddling her own. And of course, she could feel every inch of Delyth’s silk and tempestskin…

But by having her chest to Delyth’s back, she was afforded that modicum of privacy and solidarity that let her focus.

Idly her soft strokes worked lower on Delyth’s breasts, over the tops, swooping across one nipple, then the other, below, across the belly, sweeping back up. The hand at the top of Delyth’s trousers slipped down one thigh, back up, down the other… Exploring. Memorizing. Devouring.

She let herself slowly traverse Delyth’s body with her fingers, her palms, her mouth. Despite her own excitement, Alphonse took her time languidly stroking each inch of skin before finally letting her hand travel below Delyth’s pants.

She tried to remember how Delyth had told her to touch, kissing the side of Delyth’s neck as she caressed the dewy satin folds.

༄

Delyth felt the muscles in her thighs and belly tense as the healer’s hand slipped beneath her waistline. Her fingers bunched and relaxed where they curled in her hair, a motion telegraphed in the planes of her biceps.

“Alphonse…” The name came out like a groan.

The priestess’s thoughts were torn between the slide of Alphonse’s lips against her neck and the searching brush of her fingers, a tease of anticipation that begged the question of where she would touch next.

Alphonse brought her fingers up, back down, up, back down… Long lashes tickled against Delyth’s shoulder as Alphonse buried her face against the priestess. “Next?”

Delyth shuddered, the brush of Alphonse’s hair across her back cool satin. She didn’t speak right away, taking in shaking breaths.

“Inside me.” When she did speak, the words felt like a plea. She wanted Alphonse’s fingers hooked within her, beckoning.

“Inside…” Her tone was ponderous; still, she moved a probing finger against the warm slit. Then she slipped one finger, just as Delyth had said, inside. Alphonse seemed startled and then delighted, kissing Delyth’s ear and neck as she stroked “Oh. Goodness…”

Delyth wrapped a hand around Alphonse’s arm, urgent and needy. Her head fell back against the healer’s shoulder, her eyes fixed blankly on some distant point above them.

“Yes,” she panted. “Two fingers… and faster.”

She used the hand on Alphonse’s arm to direct her, before letting it slide away, her abdomen twitching at the press of slender fingers.

❀

“Oh.” She liked how Delyth was pressing against her, how tight her grip was on Alphonse’s wrist, pushing her further. Delyth was one of the most even-tempered, stoic people she had ever known.

To see her command…

Alphonse swallowed as she felt her own belly tightening in arousal. Later. She could think about that later.

Quickly she complied with the warrior’s requests and moved her hand faster, finding her free hand sneaking up to cup Delyth’s breast, thumb running over her nipple.

Alphonse could feel Delyth tightening, tension blooming from the tips of Alphonse’s fingers, and moving out until the warrior was one band of muscle from the line of her jaw to the curling hooks of her toes cradled against the furs below them. She twitched and shivered beneath Alphonse’s arms, and then she was through whatever barrier had built up within her.

Alphonse gasped, looking down at the warrior's body and thought there hadn’t been anything made more beautiful nor more alluring than Delyth in that moment. She pushed Alphonse’s hand away and softened, still trembling.

The healer withdrew her hand and carefully laid a kiss on Delyth’s shoulder before pulling the priestess closer, enjoying the warmth of their bodies pressed front to back. Shyly, she traced her fingertips across Delyth’s ribs, uncertain what to say or do… Thankfully, it didn’t seem like she needed to do anything.

The warrior’s breaths were still coming fast when she turned and crumpled, pulling Alphonse into her lap. Delyth just held her for a time while the thrumming of