This moment marks the first time she has truly seen him naked since the hot spring.
Tattoo knots that match those on his arms and chest adorn his thighs. His dense, dark hair covering his body enhances his rugged appearance. Like his chest and face, his legs bear the marks of old battle wounds.
The Iss Drengr lifts her into his arms, positioning her back against his chest as he sits on the bed with his back against the headboard. His long legs pin hers, bending them at an angle to keep her still. He gropes her breasts, rolling her perky nipples until her desperate cries of pleasure and the intense heat leave her in tears.
“Such pride, Princess.” He licks the sweat from her neck. “Beg for the ice, baby girl.”
She shakes her head against his chest. The familiar warmth of his body radiates uncomfortably against her back.
“I know you.” The sound of her wetness gliding through his fingers heightens her overstimulated senses. “You’re a Salt girl, through and through. You need that cold. Beg for the cold release!”
He throws her onto her stomach and mounts her, thrusting into her at a punishing pace. Her eyes roll into the back of her head, and three of his fingers stuff into her mouth.
“Quiet!” He gruntsin her ear.
Her strained moans persist as he reduces her to a blubbering mess. “Please!” She concedes.
“Please, what?”
“Ice!” She cries the word as if it is her salvation.
Just like that, the air in the room cools, and his frigid fingertips find her clit. She shrieks in relief as he clutches her abdomen while he swirls around her arousal.
“Tell me, girl, whose pussy is this?” His rough grunt rumbles in her ear.
“Yours.” She mumbles through his fingers, and the ruin of his cock buried inside.
“Beg for it!”
“I want to cum on your cock!” Each thrust threatens to shatter her into an unholy bliss.
“Let go, Aura.”
The permission is seemingly all she needs as she contracts around his shaft while he ruts into her pussy. By the time he releases his seed into her, she collapses onto the bed.
He removes her bindings and tugs her against his chest, brushing aside her hair, wet with sweat, clinging to her face. “Whatever is meant to come, know my arms were only ever intended to hold you.”
29
AURA
October 7, Year 21, 10th Era
Viktoft, Skalor
The next morning, their misfit group of companions slips out before anyone at the inn notices.
They trek west along the wooden section of Crescent Hold in the early morning darkness.
Aura has never felt this tired, even during Drengr training. Between the rough bed, Calder’sseidrduring their last sexual encounter, and the general lack of sleep she has experienced since leaving Coldheart Keep, her inability to slumber weighs heavily on her.
Argnier surprisingly keeps up the pace with Calder plunging ahead, following the map she and her great-uncle drew. Edmund pulls up behind, munching loudly on a stolen pastry. His bloodshot eyes almost pierce through the darkness.
As the orange glow of the sunrise breaks over the horizon, they all stop to marvel at the mountain rising at the center of the forest.
“There it is, gents and Aura.” Edmund gestures. “What I wouldn’t give for a cart to pull me all the way to the top.”
“No carts here.” Calder starts up the well-worn path with Aura and Argnier right behind him.
