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kinkfest2007-07-19 03:09 pm
queenoftheskies.livejournal.com) wrote in kinkfest2007-07-19 03:09 pm
Entry tags:
Dragon Quest VIII (Angelo/Jessica)
Title: Afterglow
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: explicit sex
Word count: 2,670
Summary: Jessica discovers that Angelo can use his magic for things other than healing.
Prompt: #12. Dragon Quest VIII, Angelo/Jessica: Magic as a sex aid - something like an afterglow
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm posting this so late. Too much real life. Too much overtime. Even a little sick thrown in for good measure. Working now to get caught up.
Afterglow
The battle had been rough and they’d been forced to travel through harsh country between the fight and the isolated glen, so Jessica was ready to drop by the time Eight gave the order to stop. King Trode complained, of course, countering his order with the command to keep moving until they found a town suitable for the housing of a king.
She collapsed to watch the argument that ensued, cradling her head on her pouch, relishing the feel of the thick carpet of grass beneath her aching body. Eight looked appropriately torn between common sense and fealty to his king, but in the end, pointed out that the rest of the party—herself, Yangus, and Angelo—were in no shape to continue and if they intended to find Dhoulmagus and return Trodain and its royal family to normal, it was best if they lived instead of collapsing from exhaustion along the way.
The diminutive monster monarch had ranted and raved and it wasn’t until his daughter-turned-horse had joined them on the ground that he actually showed some distress and relented, officially declaring they would make camp there tonight. All in all, it was a good choice. Mountains protected them for the most part, though she’d seen Eight scouting escape routes, should retreat become necessary, and she could hear him tell Yangus he’d found at least three. Ample tree cover sheltered them from the burning sun. She could hear, not to mention smell fresh water, probably just on the other side of the tiny hill that jutted up on the other side of the wagon.
She didn’t really care about anything else. A nap, a dinner of cheese and bread from the wagon—maybe even fresh game if Yangus or Eight felt like hunting—and a bath, if they were lucky enough to have found running water that was deep enough for bathing.
The nap had to come first, though. She didn’t think she could muster the energy to eat or even consider staying upright to bathe of she wasn’t allowed a moment’s sleep first. The world blurred before she’d closed her eyes completely and the dreams started almost at once, dreams of monsters and death and agony.
#
Pain blurred into pleasure that chased away the dark, nightmarish dreams. Gentle hands probed her body, touching her arms, her legs, and her shoulder. She wished they were more insistent, wished they were more daring, but she couldn’t move to embrace her would-be lover, couldn’t speak to tell him all the right places to touch.
“I didn’t even know she was hurt.”
Eight’s voice dragged her back to consciousness.
“We should have known.” Angelo’s voice was low and filled with concern. “Especially when her sharp tongue was quiet for so long.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but a flare of pain silenced her before she had the chance to begin. A moan escaped instead and she flailed as she opened her eyes, struggling to push the hands that caused the pain aside.
“Poison,” the Templar said with disgust. “It’s no wonder she fell before we realized she was in danger.” Gentle hands pushed up the sleeve of her blouse and fingered the wound just above her elbow. “It’s also what prevented her wound from closing when I cast heal at the end of battle.”
Eight grasped her wrists in a careful hold, pulling them away from her body as he admonished, “Let Angelo heal you.”
“Cor blimey,” Yangus grumbled. “Why didn’t she tell us she was hurt?”
Eight silenced him with a glance while Angelo whispered, “I’m sorry, Jess, this is going to hurt.”
“What else is new?” she managed, clenching her jaw against the burst of healing energy. When he was finished, Eight released her and she sat up, demanding, “Why does it have to hurt like that anyway?”
Angelo sat back on his heals, regarding her with a critical eye. He looked dreadful and Jessica couldn’t help but wonder what damage he’d sustained in battle. She couldn’t imagine anything short of sheer exhaustion bringing out the haunted, hollow look in his eyes, or the unhealthy pallor of his skin.
“I imagine it’s the knitting of tissues back together,” he said, dragging the back of one gloved hand across his forehead. The gesture left one clean swipe in the center of his otherwise soot-covered face. “It has to be difficult on the body to be forced to heal against its natural tendencies.” His shoulders rose and fell. “All I know is that it takes a lot out of a person.” He favored Eight with a weary grin. “Be glad you haven’t learned any of the powerful spells yet. It takes a great deal of endurance to wield them, endurance that only comes with a lot of practice over time.”
#
He’d vanished from her line of sight after he’d healed her, but the others seemed unconcerned, so she guessed he’d gone to sleep off the effects of battle and of magic. Still, his words had lingered. If healing magic really took so much energy, she wondered, then why had someone like Angelo gotten involved with it in the first place?
He reappeared at dinner, still looking a little worse for wear. His wit had returned, however, and she enjoyed an exchange of barbs with him over a spread that surprised her: hard bread and aged cheese, stout wine and fresh water, fish and wild fruit cooked over an open fire, the smell of which made her mouth water even before she’d tasted the first delicious bite.
There was something about the beauty of the evening, something about the joy of good food, something about the quiet camaraderie that even the ever-the-pessimist king couldn’t take away from them. And, when the moon rose, the call of the water grew too great for her to stand it any longer.
“I’m going to have a bath,” she announced, pulling spare clothes from the back of the wagon. “Don’t even think about peeking.” She turned with a warning glance for Angelo whose only response was the downward quirk of the corners of his mouth.
She wasn’t surprised, though, when he fell into step beside her halfway up the rise.
“I thought I told you…”
“I have some information the others would pay dearly for,” he said in that know-it-all attitude that made her want to smack him.
She resisted the urge, quipping, “Then go prostitute yourself to the others,” instead.
His steps slowed and she was feeling quite proud of herself when he announced, “There are hot springs near here.” He stopped, making her turn his way before adding, “Healing springs, perhaps.”
“Healing springs?” She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to encourage him, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of the warm—almost hot—energy springs was too much to pass up. There was something about them that healed without the pain magic spells inflicted.
His gaze wandered, as if he was ignoring her, though she knew he was baiting her when he offered with a shrug, “Or so they say.”
“What do you want? Name it. Anything.”
That brought his gaze back to her with an upturned brow. “Anything?”
It would be interesting to see just how far he’d go. “Anything.”
His eyes lit; his expression grew more animated than she’d seen it all day. It didn’t take him long to catch up with her and Jessica felt a strange kind of exhilaration, a tingling anticipation, envelop her at his presence.
“Well?” she asked after they’d crested the hill in silence.
“Well?” he echoed in that ever-innocent voice he’d perfected.
“What do you want?” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. It was difficult to remember the last time she’d felt such anticipation. She was surprised to find her body alive with desire.
“An entire day without insults.” He turned to regard her with smug satisfaction. “An entire day without one evil barb directed at yours truly.”
He offered her a dramatic bow that only served to irritate her as much as it disappointed her. “That’s it?”
Angelo spread his hands, his expression almost wounded…another innocent gesture he’d perfected, though Jessica didn’t believe for one minute that it was sincere. “You were expecting…more?”
“No.” She pushed past him, unable to hide her exasperation. “I don’t expect anything from you any more.”
“We could start at sunrise,” he offered, tagging after her like a shadow. “And you could…shoot me with barbs all night in preparation for your day of abstinence…” He captured her arms, almost throwing her off balance as he turned her to face him. “If you’d like.”
His voice was husky and amazingly warm against her lips. He kissed her, not the rushed desperation she’d expected from him, but a gentle leisurely touch that dragged the desire from the pit of her stomach and scattered it throughout her body. The bundle of clothes dropped from her grasp, but she had no time for thought of it as his hands cradled her cheeks—cupping her face—and his lips seized hers again, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.
One hand slid to her shoulder, resting there only a minute before executing a daring plunge into her top to free her right breast. She gasped, more from surprise at his audacity than any real protest of his touch. But, before she could even consider further reaction, his hand glowed—a soft rosy glow against the falling darkness—and a warmth beyond description passed into her. It hardened her nipple and spread a tingling heat deep into the heart of her flesh, a tingling so intimate, so passionate, that it ignited a fire between her legs.
“You see,” he whispered, his lips dropping to her throat. “Not all magic hurts.” The tender flesh trembled beneath the heat of his breath. “Some is even…” His hand sampled her breast, spreading the warmth he’d deposited there. “Pleasant.”
She leaned into him with a moan, pressed her breast against his hand, pressed her body against his. It was all the invitation he needed and moments later, he’d unlaced her top with deft fingers and freed her from her shirt.
The wind was cool, but the heat they radiated and the borrowed warmth of his magic was all she needed. She felt her skin flush and the bead of sweat as it settled between her ample breasts.
She squirmed beneath his hand, wishing that his other—still on her cheek—would drop to her other breast…or elsewhere. She could only imagine what the thrill would do to the rest of her body, to other spots of a private nature.
Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his waist, where she struggled against the buckle of his belt.
“Not yet,” he whispered as if reading her mind. He captured her hands, wrapped one around his waist and placed the other on the breast he’d abandoned. Through his hands, she felt the burst of power, warm and sensual as it charged her own hand. “There.” He smiled in satisfaction as his gaze fastened on her chest. “That should keep you busy.”
A flush crept into her cheeks at the implication, though she couldn’t deny she’d tried it before—when she was alone--just to see what it was like. He waited until she’d squeezed and her fingers settled on her nipples, pinching and twisting until she wanted more. He grew hard against her and there was no denying the lust in his eyes.
His mouth dropped to her free breast where he latched on while his hands moved behind her and beneath her skirt and into the almost nonexistent underclothes she wore. A gentle shove on the small of her back pressed her against his erection. His hands dropped lower to cup the smooth cheeks of her backside, the hint of magic playing across his fingers when he separated them and shoved his fingers between.
Jessica almost yelped when the first finger entered her from behind, but the gentle pressure was hardly painful and as the magic in his touch increased, she found it more and more difficult not to orgasm on the spot. He pressed in further, more insistently, a second finger joining the first. There was a momentary burst of pain when tissue spread wider than normal, but healing energy flowed into her instantaneously, binding the wound, spreading inside her with a warmth and an energy that made her feel like she’d explode.
The pleasure was unlike anything she’d experienced, centered in so many locations she could hardly track where each feeling originated. His tongue lapped across the breast he’d claimed; it took her a moment to realize there was no trickery, no magic involved in the pleasure that built there as he nipped and sucked.
A moment later, she could hardly stand. She clutched at his jacket sleeves, wrapping her fingers in the fabric before her legs gave way. He supported her, eased her to the ground and straddled her, his fingers still working their magic inside her.
With trembling hands, she unfastened his buckle, his pants, and shoved her hands inside. He was hard against her grip, warm and pulsing in anticipation. He groaned when she stroked, thrusting in slow, deliberate movements until she thought he’d come in her hands.
She had different thoughts, though, and pulled him free of his trousers, using one hand to lift her skirts, while the other hand guided him close. He stripped off her panties, tossing them over his shoulder as he knelt to enter her. She missed the warmth of his hands immediately, though the glow he’d set to life inside her had only dimmed and not vanished completely.
He thrust in once, bursting through the resistance inside her, then a second time, throwing back his head in a moan as he took her hips and pushed himself deeper. His hands wandered until he found her breasts. For every thrust, he squeezed or pinched until her entire body was alight with want.
And then she felt it, the warmth that spread from each frantic thrust to pool deep in her abdomen. Good Goddess. The magic didn’t come just from his hands.
He burned with it, so warm and so bright that it filled her as surely as it filled him, ebbing and flowing with his emotions and desire, building as he built, as she tightened around him and held him so close.
The flow touched and tickled her as fingers and tongue could not, bringing her to the brink of climax as he exploded within her and she was filled with the warmth of his passion. His trembling set off a chain reaction in her, pushing her over the brink and into an orgasm the likes of which she’d never achieved.
Locked in each others’ arms, they collapsed, holding each other desperately as the waves of pleasure swept over them, hard and demanding, draining away the tension, fulfilling the desire.
When they separated at last, the glow surrounding him had faded to a soft light that flickered with each heartbeat and deepened with every breath. She feared for him until his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed up at her with a weary smile.
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, settling down beside him.
“No,” he admitted with a contented sigh, “but there’s always a first time for everything, don’t you think?”
“You silly fool.” Pulling his cape from his shoulders, she dragged it across her naked chest as she curled into a snuggle beside him. It was better than nothing, and would hide anything interesting from the others should they choose to initiate a search.
“I haven’t forgotten the healing springs,” he promised as his eyelids slid closed.
“Neither have I,” she assured him, “so, you’d better get good and rested.” Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. "Because I’m going to show you some magic of my own when we get there.”
Author/Artist: queenoftheskies
Rating: R
Warnings: explicit sex
Word count: 2,670
Summary: Jessica discovers that Angelo can use his magic for things other than healing.
Prompt: #12. Dragon Quest VIII, Angelo/Jessica: Magic as a sex aid - something like an afterglow
A/N: I'm very sorry I'm posting this so late. Too much real life. Too much overtime. Even a little sick thrown in for good measure. Working now to get caught up.
Afterglow
The battle had been rough and they’d been forced to travel through harsh country between the fight and the isolated glen, so Jessica was ready to drop by the time Eight gave the order to stop. King Trode complained, of course, countering his order with the command to keep moving until they found a town suitable for the housing of a king.
She collapsed to watch the argument that ensued, cradling her head on her pouch, relishing the feel of the thick carpet of grass beneath her aching body. Eight looked appropriately torn between common sense and fealty to his king, but in the end, pointed out that the rest of the party—herself, Yangus, and Angelo—were in no shape to continue and if they intended to find Dhoulmagus and return Trodain and its royal family to normal, it was best if they lived instead of collapsing from exhaustion along the way.
The diminutive monster monarch had ranted and raved and it wasn’t until his daughter-turned-horse had joined them on the ground that he actually showed some distress and relented, officially declaring they would make camp there tonight. All in all, it was a good choice. Mountains protected them for the most part, though she’d seen Eight scouting escape routes, should retreat become necessary, and she could hear him tell Yangus he’d found at least three. Ample tree cover sheltered them from the burning sun. She could hear, not to mention smell fresh water, probably just on the other side of the tiny hill that jutted up on the other side of the wagon.
She didn’t really care about anything else. A nap, a dinner of cheese and bread from the wagon—maybe even fresh game if Yangus or Eight felt like hunting—and a bath, if they were lucky enough to have found running water that was deep enough for bathing.
The nap had to come first, though. She didn’t think she could muster the energy to eat or even consider staying upright to bathe of she wasn’t allowed a moment’s sleep first. The world blurred before she’d closed her eyes completely and the dreams started almost at once, dreams of monsters and death and agony.
#
Pain blurred into pleasure that chased away the dark, nightmarish dreams. Gentle hands probed her body, touching her arms, her legs, and her shoulder. She wished they were more insistent, wished they were more daring, but she couldn’t move to embrace her would-be lover, couldn’t speak to tell him all the right places to touch.
“I didn’t even know she was hurt.”
Eight’s voice dragged her back to consciousness.
“We should have known.” Angelo’s voice was low and filled with concern. “Especially when her sharp tongue was quiet for so long.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but a flare of pain silenced her before she had the chance to begin. A moan escaped instead and she flailed as she opened her eyes, struggling to push the hands that caused the pain aside.
“Poison,” the Templar said with disgust. “It’s no wonder she fell before we realized she was in danger.” Gentle hands pushed up the sleeve of her blouse and fingered the wound just above her elbow. “It’s also what prevented her wound from closing when I cast heal at the end of battle.”
Eight grasped her wrists in a careful hold, pulling them away from her body as he admonished, “Let Angelo heal you.”
“Cor blimey,” Yangus grumbled. “Why didn’t she tell us she was hurt?”
Eight silenced him with a glance while Angelo whispered, “I’m sorry, Jess, this is going to hurt.”
“What else is new?” she managed, clenching her jaw against the burst of healing energy. When he was finished, Eight released her and she sat up, demanding, “Why does it have to hurt like that anyway?”
Angelo sat back on his heals, regarding her with a critical eye. He looked dreadful and Jessica couldn’t help but wonder what damage he’d sustained in battle. She couldn’t imagine anything short of sheer exhaustion bringing out the haunted, hollow look in his eyes, or the unhealthy pallor of his skin.
“I imagine it’s the knitting of tissues back together,” he said, dragging the back of one gloved hand across his forehead. The gesture left one clean swipe in the center of his otherwise soot-covered face. “It has to be difficult on the body to be forced to heal against its natural tendencies.” His shoulders rose and fell. “All I know is that it takes a lot out of a person.” He favored Eight with a weary grin. “Be glad you haven’t learned any of the powerful spells yet. It takes a great deal of endurance to wield them, endurance that only comes with a lot of practice over time.”
#
He’d vanished from her line of sight after he’d healed her, but the others seemed unconcerned, so she guessed he’d gone to sleep off the effects of battle and of magic. Still, his words had lingered. If healing magic really took so much energy, she wondered, then why had someone like Angelo gotten involved with it in the first place?
He reappeared at dinner, still looking a little worse for wear. His wit had returned, however, and she enjoyed an exchange of barbs with him over a spread that surprised her: hard bread and aged cheese, stout wine and fresh water, fish and wild fruit cooked over an open fire, the smell of which made her mouth water even before she’d tasted the first delicious bite.
There was something about the beauty of the evening, something about the joy of good food, something about the quiet camaraderie that even the ever-the-pessimist king couldn’t take away from them. And, when the moon rose, the call of the water grew too great for her to stand it any longer.
“I’m going to have a bath,” she announced, pulling spare clothes from the back of the wagon. “Don’t even think about peeking.” She turned with a warning glance for Angelo whose only response was the downward quirk of the corners of his mouth.
She wasn’t surprised, though, when he fell into step beside her halfway up the rise.
“I thought I told you…”
“I have some information the others would pay dearly for,” he said in that know-it-all attitude that made her want to smack him.
She resisted the urge, quipping, “Then go prostitute yourself to the others,” instead.
His steps slowed and she was feeling quite proud of herself when he announced, “There are hot springs near here.” He stopped, making her turn his way before adding, “Healing springs, perhaps.”
“Healing springs?” She didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to encourage him, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of the warm—almost hot—energy springs was too much to pass up. There was something about them that healed without the pain magic spells inflicted.
His gaze wandered, as if he was ignoring her, though she knew he was baiting her when he offered with a shrug, “Or so they say.”
“What do you want? Name it. Anything.”
That brought his gaze back to her with an upturned brow. “Anything?”
It would be interesting to see just how far he’d go. “Anything.”
His eyes lit; his expression grew more animated than she’d seen it all day. It didn’t take him long to catch up with her and Jessica felt a strange kind of exhilaration, a tingling anticipation, envelop her at his presence.
“Well?” she asked after they’d crested the hill in silence.
“Well?” he echoed in that ever-innocent voice he’d perfected.
“What do you want?” She couldn’t keep the excitement from her voice. It was difficult to remember the last time she’d felt such anticipation. She was surprised to find her body alive with desire.
“An entire day without insults.” He turned to regard her with smug satisfaction. “An entire day without one evil barb directed at yours truly.”
He offered her a dramatic bow that only served to irritate her as much as it disappointed her. “That’s it?”
Angelo spread his hands, his expression almost wounded…another innocent gesture he’d perfected, though Jessica didn’t believe for one minute that it was sincere. “You were expecting…more?”
“No.” She pushed past him, unable to hide her exasperation. “I don’t expect anything from you any more.”
“We could start at sunrise,” he offered, tagging after her like a shadow. “And you could…shoot me with barbs all night in preparation for your day of abstinence…” He captured her arms, almost throwing her off balance as he turned her to face him. “If you’d like.”
His voice was husky and amazingly warm against her lips. He kissed her, not the rushed desperation she’d expected from him, but a gentle leisurely touch that dragged the desire from the pit of her stomach and scattered it throughout her body. The bundle of clothes dropped from her grasp, but she had no time for thought of it as his hands cradled her cheeks—cupping her face—and his lips seized hers again, his tongue seeking entrance to her mouth.
One hand slid to her shoulder, resting there only a minute before executing a daring plunge into her top to free her right breast. She gasped, more from surprise at his audacity than any real protest of his touch. But, before she could even consider further reaction, his hand glowed—a soft rosy glow against the falling darkness—and a warmth beyond description passed into her. It hardened her nipple and spread a tingling heat deep into the heart of her flesh, a tingling so intimate, so passionate, that it ignited a fire between her legs.
“You see,” he whispered, his lips dropping to her throat. “Not all magic hurts.” The tender flesh trembled beneath the heat of his breath. “Some is even…” His hand sampled her breast, spreading the warmth he’d deposited there. “Pleasant.”
She leaned into him with a moan, pressed her breast against his hand, pressed her body against his. It was all the invitation he needed and moments later, he’d unlaced her top with deft fingers and freed her from her shirt.
The wind was cool, but the heat they radiated and the borrowed warmth of his magic was all she needed. She felt her skin flush and the bead of sweat as it settled between her ample breasts.
She squirmed beneath his hand, wishing that his other—still on her cheek—would drop to her other breast…or elsewhere. She could only imagine what the thrill would do to the rest of her body, to other spots of a private nature.
Her hands dropped from his shoulders to his waist, where she struggled against the buckle of his belt.
“Not yet,” he whispered as if reading her mind. He captured her hands, wrapped one around his waist and placed the other on the breast he’d abandoned. Through his hands, she felt the burst of power, warm and sensual as it charged her own hand. “There.” He smiled in satisfaction as his gaze fastened on her chest. “That should keep you busy.”
A flush crept into her cheeks at the implication, though she couldn’t deny she’d tried it before—when she was alone--just to see what it was like. He waited until she’d squeezed and her fingers settled on her nipples, pinching and twisting until she wanted more. He grew hard against her and there was no denying the lust in his eyes.
His mouth dropped to her free breast where he latched on while his hands moved behind her and beneath her skirt and into the almost nonexistent underclothes she wore. A gentle shove on the small of her back pressed her against his erection. His hands dropped lower to cup the smooth cheeks of her backside, the hint of magic playing across his fingers when he separated them and shoved his fingers between.
Jessica almost yelped when the first finger entered her from behind, but the gentle pressure was hardly painful and as the magic in his touch increased, she found it more and more difficult not to orgasm on the spot. He pressed in further, more insistently, a second finger joining the first. There was a momentary burst of pain when tissue spread wider than normal, but healing energy flowed into her instantaneously, binding the wound, spreading inside her with a warmth and an energy that made her feel like she’d explode.
The pleasure was unlike anything she’d experienced, centered in so many locations she could hardly track where each feeling originated. His tongue lapped across the breast he’d claimed; it took her a moment to realize there was no trickery, no magic involved in the pleasure that built there as he nipped and sucked.
A moment later, she could hardly stand. She clutched at his jacket sleeves, wrapping her fingers in the fabric before her legs gave way. He supported her, eased her to the ground and straddled her, his fingers still working their magic inside her.
With trembling hands, she unfastened his buckle, his pants, and shoved her hands inside. He was hard against her grip, warm and pulsing in anticipation. He groaned when she stroked, thrusting in slow, deliberate movements until she thought he’d come in her hands.
She had different thoughts, though, and pulled him free of his trousers, using one hand to lift her skirts, while the other hand guided him close. He stripped off her panties, tossing them over his shoulder as he knelt to enter her. She missed the warmth of his hands immediately, though the glow he’d set to life inside her had only dimmed and not vanished completely.
He thrust in once, bursting through the resistance inside her, then a second time, throwing back his head in a moan as he took her hips and pushed himself deeper. His hands wandered until he found her breasts. For every thrust, he squeezed or pinched until her entire body was alight with want.
And then she felt it, the warmth that spread from each frantic thrust to pool deep in her abdomen. Good Goddess. The magic didn’t come just from his hands.
He burned with it, so warm and so bright that it filled her as surely as it filled him, ebbing and flowing with his emotions and desire, building as he built, as she tightened around him and held him so close.
The flow touched and tickled her as fingers and tongue could not, bringing her to the brink of climax as he exploded within her and she was filled with the warmth of his passion. His trembling set off a chain reaction in her, pushing her over the brink and into an orgasm the likes of which she’d never achieved.
Locked in each others’ arms, they collapsed, holding each other desperately as the waves of pleasure swept over them, hard and demanding, draining away the tension, fulfilling the desire.
When they separated at last, the glow surrounding him had faded to a soft light that flickered with each heartbeat and deepened with every breath. She feared for him until his eyelids fluttered open and he gazed up at her with a weary smile.
“Have you ever done this before?” she asked, settling down beside him.
“No,” he admitted with a contented sigh, “but there’s always a first time for everything, don’t you think?”
“You silly fool.” Pulling his cape from his shoulders, she dragged it across her naked chest as she curled into a snuggle beside him. It was better than nothing, and would hide anything interesting from the others should they choose to initiate a search.
“I haven’t forgotten the healing springs,” he promised as his eyelids slid closed.
“Neither have I,” she assured him, “so, you’d better get good and rested.” Laying her head on his chest, she listened to the rhythmic beat of his heart. "Because I’m going to show you some magic of my own when we get there.”
no subject
The magic didn’t come just from his hands.
Probably my favorite line, in a work full of favorite line contenders. Great great story!
And I'm supposed to think about work now?
no subject
I bet you couldn't tell how much fun I had writing this, could you?
no subject
He seems well on his way there, too. :D
no subject