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As was the routine for most of their days recently, the group had gathered around the campfire to enjoy an evening meal together before separating to their individual tents for the night. Karlach was stargazing, Shadowheart and Lae’zel were meditating - separately, of course. Astarion and Gale both had their noses in books, and Halsin was sitting by the river in some kind of quiet contemplation only druids seemed to understand. Conspicuously missing from their tents were Wyll and the group’s much-loved leader.
Their relationship was no secret, and so nobody seemed to care that they surreptitiously departed camp not long after eating, slipping into the nearby woodland hand in hand. Everyone had already had their fun making jokes, and once it was widespread knowledge that the Blade of Frontiers wanted a romance worthy of epic poems and song, the group quickly figured out that that meant there were in fact not any fascinating, carnal trysts taking place in the woods. After that, their collective interest level dropped to about nil, hence the calm in camp at the pair’s current absence.
In the woodland, Wyll was being led at some pace until they reached a clearing. The moon’s full beams shone into the space, casting everything a slightly ethereal blue hue. A gentle breeze pushed through the trees, stirring the branches with a delicate melody. Somewhere distant, a trickling of stream water completed the idyllic image.
She turned to face Wyll, pulling him with both hands until their lips could connect. This was her favourite part of the day: when she could get him alone and relish in the feeling of his hands and his mouth on her. He held her gently at the waist, pulling her up against him as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. He was always eager to start this part. Always eager to tease some of the soft sighs out of her when he held the back of her head and stroked her tongue with his own.
Her hands travelled up his arms, coming to his chest to start working through the straps of his shirt. He always let her take it off, enjoying how considerate she was to work it around his horns. And then nothing could compare to the sensation of her hands on his bare chest. She loved feeling his strong muscles flexing under her touch. She could never tell if he did it intentionally or not, but it always had her legs tingling and her thighs clenching.
When she was lightheaded from their kissing, she slowly pulled away, keeping one hand in his. She playfully tugged him to the soft grass of the clearing, smiling sweetly when he kneeled in front of her. Tentatively, she reached out to him, feeling great relief when he gently pulled her onto his lap. He didn’t always let her take it this far. Some nights, usually when she’d been especially flirtatious in the daytime, he’d have to stop her from undressing him, stop her from sitting flush against him like this so he didn’t lose his composure. She was happy that tonight wasn’t one of those nights, and she was desperate to see how far she could get.
It’s not that she was against his sweet, romantic ideals. Far from it, she adored that he thought so highly of her that he wanted everything to be perfect. The reality was that her desire had grown exponentially since their first kiss at the tiefling party, and barely a night passed where she didn’t dream of him having his way with her, waking up slick and sweating. She knew he was feeling the same frustration, the same urges, and she craved physical connection with him like nothing else.
So, situated comfortably on his kneeling lap, she brought her hands to rest on his shoulders, leaning in to kiss him once more and hoping to feel his own hands clutch at her waist. Instead, they sat on her upper arms, an all-too-respectable position for her liking. Still kissing, she took his hands in her own and placed them on her waist herself, shifting slightly closer to him. He held her like that for less than a minute before returning to the safety of her arms. He wasn’t even gripping her, instead cradling her like she was something delicate. It was sweet and romantic, but unfortunately she was too much of a tumultuous fury of arousal and longing to settle for it tonight.
“Wyll,” She murmured against his lips, “Touch me.”
“I am touching you, darling.” He responded, keeping his hands chastely on her arms and leaning their lips together again. She pulled away from him, just far enough to stop his forward motion.
“Wyll.” The thin surface of her tone was serious, but anyone listening could surely hear the desire teeming in her undertones. Whether Wyll wasn’t listening or simply couldn’t hear was beyond her as he responded with an innocence near idiocy.
“Is something the matter, love?”
She couldn’t take it anymore. Surely she wasn’t the only one this pent-up and eager?
“Must I beg for your touch?” She whimpered, letting her hands stray from his shoulders, up either side of his neck, up further and along his jaw, the sides of his face, settling around the bases of his horns, “I’ll do it.”
Her new position forced his hands to sit at her waist, though his touch was frustratingly featherlight. She rolled her hips against his crotch, gripping his horns tighter to support her weight before she continued her pleading, “Please, Wyll. Please touch me.”
“Gods.” His voice was hoarse, forced through his clenched jaw. His grip on her waist tightened, almost becoming painful. Yes, this was what she wanted. She continued to grind against him desperately, panting into his ear as she went.
“I want you. I need you. I need to feel you inside me. I can think of nothing else.” She whined. Wyll groaned at her words, clutching with everything he had to the memory of why he hadn’t gone this far with her yet. He wanted romance. This was romantic, he supposed, alone with her beneath the pale light of the full moon. He wanted to be proper, it’s what she deserved. Romantic as this surely felt, he knew it wasn’t proper.
“Please, have mercy.” His voice sounded as weak as his resolve was rapidly becoming. She took no heed of his words, continuing to roll and writhe against him, mewling salaciously at the feeling of his hardness grinding into her core. Her nimble fingers caressing and squeezing his horns brought out a brand new tingling sensation that travelled along his nervous system like electric sparks. Wyll squeezed his eyes shut, pretending not to see the divine vision before him, pretending not to feel the broiling heat between them, pretending not to pull her closer, harder, on her next downward motion.
“Wyll.” The way his name rolled out of her plump lips, somewhere between a gasp and a whimper, drove him to madness, “I’m yours. All yours, Wyll. I want you to take me. Bury yourself in me until the sun comes up.”
“You’re killing me, temptress.” His hands, against his will, slid down to her hips, more thoroughly controlling her sinuous motions. He jerked his hips up against her and his breath hitched violently when she let out a weak, high whine, throwing her head back. He attacked her newly exposed neck with his lips and teeth, sucking on the pulse point between her ear and her jaw. She jerked him by the horns, throwing another ounce of virility into her next movements.
“Wyll!” She called out to the sky like he had already brought her to the cusp of ecstasy, and he was briefly overcome with fanciful ideas of what sounds she would actually make when she was coming undone. What he wouldn’t give to discover those sounds for himself.
“My love.” He gasped against the skin of her neck, his open mouth pressing into her, wanting to consume her very essence as her wiggling in his lap became more frantic. She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, pulling them completely flush against one another. She brought her mouth to his ear, first kissing, then licking, then whispering.
“You make me so wet, Wyll. I’m dripping for you.” That was what broke him. He practically growled as he tightened his grip on her hips and threw her onto her back, climbing on top of her and pressing his length against her once more, chasing the sweet friction they’d shared. Her hair splayed out under her like an angelic, or perhaps devilish, halo in the moonlight and Wyll thought he’d never seen a better sight.
“Perhaps just a taste.” He grumbled in her ear as he snaked a hand into the high slit of her dress. She responded with enthusiasm, pushing her hips up against him and dragging her nails down his exposed back. He gritted his teeth at the sensation, swiftly moving down her body. He gripped the fabric of the dress skirt and heaved it out of his way, exposing her, bare and beautiful, before him. “Gods, you’re perfection.”
“Please, Wyll.” She whimpered desperately, gripping a fistful of grass with one hand while the other went to one of his horns, simultaneously pushing him further down and pulling him closer to her. He didn’t need to hear more. Wyll fastened his grip around her thighs, pressing his closed lips to the soft patch of hair at her core. He took one last look before closing his eyes to dive in. She hadn’t lied; she was dripping, glistening in the moonlight like a precious gemstone.
Gingerly, he trailed his tongue lightly along her folds, tightening his grip on her thighs as she tried to buck up against him. Her eagerness encouraged him to be bolder, and his next lick was much firmer. He pressed his tongue briefly into the tantalising heat of her wet, fleshy tunnel before travelling up to tease the little bundle of nerves at her apex. Her mouth fell open as a melodious moan weaved its way into the night sky above them.
She was sure she’d float away with the sound if it weren’t for Wyll’s strong arms around her legs. She gripped his horns with both hands, grasping for purchase that could keep her in the moment and pressing him against her like her life depended on it. His fingerprints on her thighs burned, and the touch of his tongue set her entirely aflame.
“Gods, Wyll.” She sighed, pressing the flats of her feet into the ground so she could thrust up at his divine affections. He hummed in response, sending vibrations through her that she felt curl deliciously around the furthest reaches of her mind. She was gasping and rolling beneath him when he suddenly pulled away, heaving his horns out of her hands and holding himself above her. Her eyes snapped open to see his furrowed brows and hard-set jaw.
“Just as I feared.” His voice was hoarse and solemn. She felt panic rush through her, mixing strangely with the desire still heavy in her veins. She propped herself up on her elbows to get closer to him.
“What? What’s wrong?” Before her panic could manifest further, Wyll placed a gentle hand on her cheek and leaned in, kissing her with a firmness full of promises. He pulled away just enough so their lips no longer made contact and when he spoke next, his voice was gravelly and deep and hot as the hells.
“A taste is not enough.”
With that, Wyll pulled frantically at the ties of his trousers, shifting the loosened material down around his hips and down past his knees, taking his underclothes with it. In seconds, his hard cock was in hand and he tapped it against her sensitive, soaking clit a couple of times, relishing in how her whole body seemed to squirm and writhe for him. Her hands reached out along the grass above her, spreading herself out like a feast, for him. Her legs opened wider, resting her thighs against his hips and squeezing, just for him.
“Please, Wyll.” She whimpered, feeling herself clench around nothing in her excitement, knowing she sounded as desperate as she felt, “Please, please, please.”
“What do you want, my love?” He murmured, watching with delight as he slid his member through her wet folds to prod teasingly at her entrance while her eyes rolled back and her mouth hung open, “Just say the words and I’ll give you anything you want.”
“I want, hnn-” She struggled to get words out, entirely distracted by the feeling of the thick, hard head of his cock toying with her needy hole, “I want you to fuck me, Wyll. I need you to. Take me. Please, Wyll. Please.”
“How could I refuse a request so sweet?” His usually sweet words dripped with lust as he started to push into her. They moaned together at the sensation. She was wet enough that it wasn’t painful, but he was big enough that he had to move slowly so she could accommodate him. “Gods, you feel so…so perfect.”
She could only whine in response, her hands coming to rest on his shoulders and her nails digging in. After a few seconds of stillness when he was completely sheathed in her, Wyll started to slowly drag himself out, plunging in again when just his thick head was inside her. She cried out as if he’d pushed the moan from her and her nails dragged down his shoulder blades. Wyll hissed through his teeth, taking one of her thighs in his hand and gripping tight enough to bruise as he thrust in and out again, increasing his pace.
“You were made for me, love.” He whispered between heavy breaths. She nodded, words lost to her, and pulled him closer, pressing kisses to any part of him she could reach: his chest, his neck, his jaw, his lips. They were sloppy and interspersed with bites that made his cock twitch inside her. “You were made to take my cock, weren’t you, my angel?”
“Yes!” She mewled against him, clutching him tighter with her arms and legs. He could feel her start to pulse around him, the tightness bordering on suffocating. “Yes, Wyll, yes! More, I want more.”
“Then you shall have it, love. Anything you want, you shall have.” He thrust harder, pulling her hips up to reach deeper. She responded with moans and sighs and squeals, each louder and higher in pitch than the last. He didn’t think he could be much more aroused, but hearing her sound so debauched and feminine, just for him, had him reeling. He thought she deserved some kind of praise for her perfection. “You take me so well. Such a good girl for me.”
She pulsed and tightened again around him, calling out with pure pleasure and dragging her nails down his back with desperation. Wyll noted her enjoyment with utter glee and leaned closer to her ear to continue his lavish affections.
“You like when I talk to you like this, my love?” She nodded vigorously against the side of his face, bringing her hands up to his horns to stroke along their length like she was touching his cock. He was pleasantly surprised to learn that the feeling was almost the same, bringing him dangerously close to his release. “Will you come undone for me, just at the sound of my voice?”
“Gods, yes, Wyll. Yes, please, please, please.”
“I love how you beg. So pretty. Just for me.” He adjusted himself to bring one of her legs to his shoulder, pushing into her so deeply and pumping at a pace that left her gasping and moaning. Her eyes were unfocused and her lips were wet with spit and he knew he was wrong earlier to think her moonlit halo of hair was the best sight he’d ever seen: it was undoubtedly this. He brought a hand to her throat, holding her jaw in place and forcing her to look at him as he pounded her into the soft grass beneath them. When he had her full attention, he uttered his command, “Cum for me like a good girl.”
And that was it. She cried out like a woman possessed, practically screaming his name. She clenched around him like a vise and he was helpless against the constricting pull of her, it was only two more short strokes before he was following her into the blissful abyss. He gradually slowed to a stop, pumping himself into her to extend her enjoyment, feeling her muscles spasm intermittently around him until her body went entirely limp beneath him.
When he slowly eased himself out of her she shuddered. He watched, transfixed, as a trail of thick, white seed trickled out of her, and before he could think he leaned down to lap at her hole. The heady mixture of them danced on his tongue like sparkling wine, and she whimpered and twitched under his touch until he pulled away.
He couldn’t get far before her hands were on his horns, practically dragging him up to her face. Her eyes were still drifting between being focused and unfocused, but her grip on him was firm as she pulled him down to her until they were nose-to-nose. After a couple of heaving breaths, she found her voice, raspy and overworked as it was.
“Wyll Ravenguard.” She caressed his jaw, dragging a thumb back and forth along the border of his chin, gently stroking scars as though she could heal the old wounds. When he looked in her eyes, he saw plain-faced adoration, and he knew his face portrayed the same emotion, though admittedly less perfectly and more devilishly.
“Darling?”
“I fucking love you. So, so much.” She pulled him into a long, slow kiss, their mouths moving seamlessly against one another in perfect harmony. He came up for air when she’d left him bereft of breath, feeling dizzy with carnal and romantic satisfaction.
“I love you as well. More than anything. More than I ever thought possible, my light.” He kissed her again, because how could he not after the way she’d made him feel? When he pulled away from the next kiss, it was only to lay down beside her and pull her against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder, hooking one leg around his and tracing delicate patterns around the faded scar tissue across his torso. They lay like that for a few minutes, waiting for their heartbeats to regulate, eventually falling into the same relaxed rhythm.
Wyll wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her a little closer to him, pressing a kiss into her hair. When she lifted her head to smile lazily at him, her pupils still blown wide and her skin lightly sheening with sweat, he moved one hand to hold her jaw again as he had earlier. He could almost feel her pulse spike under his thumb, and he definitely felt her leg muscles tense briefly against him.
“You know,” He began, his tone teasing and playful, “For a good girl, it was very bad of you to seduce me out here when you knew I wanted to get you somewhere befitting your beauty and radiance.”
“Do you not think the lustrous full moon and the soft, lush grass befitting of my beauty and radiance, Blade?” She batted her eyelashes at him and he didn’t want to admit how effective it was at disarming him, especially combined with that name coming from her mouth when she looked so…dishevelled.
“You know what I mean.” He chided, trying to avoid the sweet trap of her honeyed voice and gentle but persistent fingers that danced around his bare skin. He had to try very hard when she bit her full bottom lip, her eyes positively sparkling. Her voice dropped to something just above a whisper.
“Well, perhaps I am not such a good girl after all.”
“It would seem not.” He grinned, feeling his blood pumping in earnest once more. She sat up, tugging at the laced strappings of her dress until they were completely undone and she was free to slip out of it entirely. Before he could truly process the extent of her nakedness, she was crawling on top of him, pressing her skin, so warm and so, so soft, against him. She kissed a trail from his clavicle, up the side of his neck to his earlobe.
“Perhaps I am a very bad, bad girl.” She purred, taking the earlobe into her mouth and sucking on it, occasionally pinching it between her teeth and tugging lightly. His hands found the dip of her waist and clutched her to him, trying to keep his heart from leaping out of his chest. One of her hands started trailing down his torso and he caught it in his own before she could reach his rapidly hardening cock.
“And just what do you think you’re doing?” His voice was already betraying him, conveying all the lust he was trying to abate.
“I told you, didn’t I?” She replied, her voice too sweet, mocking innocence for just a moment, “I want you to bury yourself in me until the sun comes up.”
“Gods, you’ll be the death of me.” He huffed, half laughing, half moaning as her hand slipped his grasp and firmly squeezed his length.
“You have no idea, pretty boy.”
It was going to be a long night. A long, beautiful, mind-shattering night.