Lost in the Light Ch. 05

In the mean time he berated himself for dropping his guard. It was obvious now that she couldn't have made their appointment because she was injured. How it had happened would wait, for now his mind couldn't forgive himself for not seeing any other explanation other than she was ditching her responsibilities. They weren't even truly hers, she wasn't a steward, she wasn't a Huanguard, she was a guest here... he had started to treat her like an apprentice Huanguard. It wasn't his place to put that on her shoulders.

"Let me see," He said at last and put a hand on her shoulder.

"No," she said angrily. "Fuck off until I can deal with you." Her abrasiveness undid all the compassion and guilt he had quickly built up.

"No." Wolfe snapped back. She flung her arm out to clock him across the face, but this time he was ready for it and caught her wrist. The Mischevious tried to pull it back, but he held on with a strong grasp. His rough grip turned, and he entwined his fingers with hers and held her hand firmly. "Please." He said roughly. Asking permission wasn't something he was accustomed to doing, but he got the impression that asking for help was even harder for a Zecarin.

His reply was that she rolled back over onto her side. Wolfe took it as consent and lifted the blanket up to see her backside. In the darkness he could feel the tender flesh from the entry wound. It was scabbed over but still very tender and she hissed every time he touched it. She had a death grip on his hand as he explored the damaged tissue carefully.

"Did it knick anything?" Wolfe said sternly. His rough manner of asking betrayed the worry hidden behind it -- it was a precise strike straight into the liver or a kidney.

"Yes, but I took care of that first," she sighed. "It left me almost too weak to deal with them, or crawl my way back here." There was an emotion in her voice Wolfe couldn't place. Fear? He reached down and touched a fingertip across her cheek; it came away wet from her tears.

She slugged him in the jaw.

Twisting in place to hit him was reflex to her, but with her wound, it came with a painful price and she yelped as she collapsed. Wolfe rolled with the punch and slid one arm under her to grapple with when she crumpled, he was just in the right position to catch her on top of him and grab hold of both wrists.

"Let go, or I'll rip a chunk out of your neck with my teeth." The Mischevious hissed at him.

"I believe you," Wolfe said coolly and eased up his grip on her arms. The starlight caught her face in that one moment and he could see the wear today's ordeal had taken on her. Ragged though her appearance may be, there was no denying the confident gaze of victory at a price in her eyes. Wolfe saw something else... she had done murder. Whoever had attacked her hadn't gotten away with it. It surprised him to see it, but he felt a sense of pride in her. Indeed, he had been training an apprentice to the Huanguard all along. So he smiled at her.

"Let go," she repeated with a cold steeliness to her voice.

"No," Wolfe said defiantly and kissed her.

Her body locked up, confused and surprised, but she didn't fight back. Instead a soft whimper of release echoed through her being and into her kiss. Her fingers immediately went to his face and held him. There they affectionately stroked the prickly stubble and soft patches equally. In that one moment her defensive posture melted away, and gave into his embrace.

Her lips became more vigorous as they sought out more of his flesh - his cheeks, his neck, his ears. Her hunger was apparent, and it was as if all fatigue and pain from the day was suddenly lifted. Wolfe wrapped an arm around her waist and in one fluid motion rolled them both over onto her side of the bed. She went to protest but it was over before she could register any discomfort. He sat up, and in the faint light of night stripped off his robe and tossed it to the floor. Her fingertips slid up his chiseled torso, taking in every contour of muscle and sinew, before sinking her nails in and scratching her way back down. Wolfe hissed, but didn't protest, there was a hidden ferality to him behind those eyes. She was the only one that saw it, so controlled, so dispassionate, so unreadable -- all to keep the animal inside locked up and out of sight.

He bit into her neck. His teeth dragged pleasurably across her skin as his lips drank her in. Up her neck his tongue trailed a line to her jaw, and she tilted her head with a sigh of pleasure to accommodate him. His lips found her long ear, and his tongue caressed her outer contours. Unknowing of the sensitivity of elven ears, he bit into the tip and she whined in pain but didn't make him stop. She liked it.

Each bite and nibble on that sensitive cartilage made her body tense and shudder. The Mischevious had trouble focusing and her hands just lazily caressed his flexing back muscles as they held him up over her. They traced the contours of his bulging lateral muscles all down his spine. They ended on his toned ass and dug into the thick mounds of his flesh with her nails.

Her lover returned the affection by digging into her breasts with his fingertips as he kneaded them. She arched her back into him with a cooing moan of pleasure; this was just how she liked it. His teeth went from one nipple to another, pulling and teasing to her moans of lust and whimpers of pain. It was quickly driving her into a frenzy.

Long denied this, she reached between them and grabbed a firm hold of his already engorged member and stroked it. He didn't need any cues. Wolfe was already worked up from denying her for days. He carefully lifted one of her legs up to his shoulder as he rolled her onto her bad side. The position put her injury under her where it wouldn't be disturbed much. His cock pressed against her wet sex and with one forceful push, she gasped sharply as he entered her.

"Yesss!" she whined through clenched teeth, feeling him spread her open with his girth. There was no finesse or sensuality to his movements, just raw unrelenting power as with long fluid strokes he pummeled her starving sex with his thick meat. His mouth wrapped around her calf as he held it in the air, his teeth pulling the skin ever so slightly and his tongue tracing the contours of her leg. He found her ankle to be more sensitive and when he bit it lightly her toes arched and she squealed.

Each forceful thrust brought a moan of pleasure from her lips. His unrelenting stamina soon made her short of breath, and those moans turned to gasps and pants. Sore and weary though she may be, The Mischevious was not going to let her fatigue interfere with her enjoying this moment. With one final, forceful thrust he stopped. Sweaty from the frantic exertion, Wolfe felt the effects of his sapped strength and it quickly made him light headed -- he needed a change of pace. Gently he lowered her leg, and rolled her onto her stomach. His wet cock parted her drenched thighs and reclaimed its territory inside her cunt. Propping himself up with his arms, he slowly thrust in, burying himself to the hilt against her soft curvaceous ass. Slow and constant, he resumed his pleasure pace, this time without overexerting himself with feverish pounding.

The Mischevious grabbed her pillow and sank her teeth into the down filled case. It muffled her squeals as her body was wracked by a vigorous orgasm. Her thighs quivered underneath him and flooded his undulating cock with her juices. The added sensation was enough to make his end draw near. With one final thrust in, he leaned on top of her, sank his lips onto her neck, and bit lightly into the skin of her shoulder. This last burst of stimulation sent a second wave of tremors through her and prolonged her climax as he flooded pussy with his seed.

Together they collapsed in a sweaty mass, panting and moaning in pleasure. She reached up behind her and caressed his head. Wolfe seemed unresponsive, but the hot breath on the back of her neck meant, at worst, he had only passed out. In truth, his mind was suddenly coming to terms with his actions. The touch of a woman had been a stranger to him for so long his instincts had taken over in their heated argument. Purged of his need, his conscience was suddenly returned in full force. He had lost the battle of wills; he hadn't kept his distance, and had now crossed a boundary. The Zecarin elf underneath sensed his distress and moved out from under; she took care of her injury and rolled to one side to face him.

"Wolfe," she watched him in the dark as he settled down on his back. "Trust is a hard word for Zecarins. Mating does not mean trust. Our guard never lowers completely, so we take our pleasure behind a mask." She hoped these words would help him, but she watched his brow scowl. In the darkness his chest slowly stopped heaving as the exertion receded. "I do not know why I'm here, nor do I trust you humans. But you at least, I've determined are just as much a pawn in all this as I am. Should I trust you? Will you take my secrets to your masters? Will they kill me when you've learned it all?" Wolfe sat up and moved to the edge of the bed, the cold floor on his feet cooled his hot blood. He was seeing her true self now, the person he had spent days with before was just a shadow of the woman next to him. His mind saw the words behind her words -- she would never tell them whatever it was The Father wanted. That knowledge was all the kept her alive from her point of view, if she gave it up she would be at their mercy.

Wolfe snorted as the ridiculousness of his task became apparent. She had seen through him, but for some reason had decided to show him that rather than continue the mask, as she put it, she had taken the first step and shown part of her hand. His mind wandered - it explored the many sides to their situation and all those involved. What was The Father not telling him? Why was Siles to be spied on along with this Zecarin? This was some strange territory he had crossed into, and one she was right about -- he was a pawn. Wolfe took orders, but he wasn't a pawn and detested being one. He was going to change the rules.

"Do you remember your name?" He asked off-handed.

"I remember everything; my amnesia was no accident." She said.

"Will you tell me your name?" Wolfe said as he looked over his shoulder at her.

"Why do you need to know?" she asked calmly. It was an abrasive answer, but the tone in her voice had something hidden in it. Wolfe thought about it for a moment before the answer came.

"I was ordered to train you and report on your progress," He said. His voice had taken on a grating quality from the attempt to whisper and the heavy breathing from earlier -- it gave him an even more animalistic quality that caused a quiver between her legs. "I want to know what to put on the gravestone when you fail."

Soft hands touched the back of his neck and startled him; he hadn't heard her move. They stroked his shoulders as something wet touched his back between his shoulder blades. Her wet tongue slowly licked the sweat off the back of his neck, as her body came to entwine itself around him. Her lips nibbled his skin and made their way to his ear.

"I am The Mischevious," She whispered huskily into his ear. "Now fuck me one more time before one of us dies tomorrow." She reached around his waist and grabbed a firm hold of his cock and stroked it back to life. Her other hand went to his head, grabbed a handful of hair, and yanked it back sharply so she could work her tongue under his jaw.

"If you scream, I'll silence you." He growled.

"I know a little magic," she hissed into his ear. "I put up a silence barrier, no one can hear us." She sank her teeth into the side of his neck, eliciting a loud hiss of pain and pleasure from her captive. His veins bulged in her hands, and his member was hard and throbbing against her firm sensual grip. "Make me scream..." she begged into his ear.

With a sudden jerk he snagged a handful of her hair and pulled her head, and the rest of her, around to face him. With one powerfully muscled arm he picked her up by the waist and lifted her and himself up as in one fluid motion he pushed her against the far wall on top of the desk, and pinned her against it with his massive form.

Their lips met in frenzied, carnal war -- one trying to dominate the other -- and their tongues fought between them. His hands grabbed her wrists and pinned them beside her head against the stone. A muffled whimpered escaped despite her, and was rewarded by his lips disengaging her lips to ravage her neck. Her back tried to arch up into him in order to expose more of her sensitive skin to his ravenous lips, but he was firm in his grasp and wouldn't let her move. They flowed over her chest, lavishing her dark sweaty skin with rough kisses and the tingling burn of his stubble. One strong hand took over her wrists, holding them against the wall painfully as the other came behind her waist and pulled her hips to him. Hot, wet skin met his throbbing cock as it pressed and ground against her dripping sex.

Each thrust of his hips made his bulging member grind against her wet lips and rub her sensitive erect bud. With each forceful grind her voice betrayed her and moaned loudly to the open night air as her body begged for more. Wolfe was eager to oblige, but on his terms, sharp teeth pinched a nipple between them and his tongue lavished it. The dark skinned elf in his power squealed in ecstasy.

"More!" she begged. Her answer was firm hands bracing her as his hard cock started to press into her sex. Wolfe took his time, savoring the sensation as his thick flesh penetrated her. When he was mostly engulfed, he thrust in violently, the last inch eliciting another squeal of excitement from his captive. Her responses inflamed his desire even more, awakening the long repressed instincts once again. His body moved on its own, slamming his hard cock deep inside her again and again.

With each forceful thrust she gasped. Gasps turned to moans, moans turned to yelps, and then to screams of passion as he impaled her wet sex again and again with his throbbing member. His lips went from one breast to the other, suckling her pert mounds of flesh and teasing each nipple with teeth.

The Mischevious was set afire. Her restraint gone, her body thrust up to meet his as her heels dug into the small of his back trying to spur him on. Her voice screamed out in passion with each powerful stroke. Muscles tensed in her arms, trying to free themselves to action, but the death grip her lover had over her wrists sapped them of their strength -- it she struggled too hard, the bones in her wrists ground against each other, forcing the strength from them painfully. The struggling added to their excitement; the more she fought the harder he slammed into her.

Wolfe pounded into her with reckless abandon as his loins prepare to climax, his sudden burst of frantic, frenzied thrusting made her cry out in a long wail of passion.

"YEEESSSS!" She screamed as his body spasmed violently, and flooded her hungry sex with his seed. His breath caught in his throat as spasm after spasm marked each spurt of hot cum inside her.

Exhausted, and utterly spent, Wolfe fell backwards with her still in his grasp. The two of them collapsed onto the bed where she was content to stay entwined against him. Residual spurts from his still engulfed cock sent shiver after shiver down her spine and she purred against his neck. Overcome with satisfaction and sexual contentment she nuzzled his neck and sighed happily as she ran her fingers through the hairs of his chest.

Wolfe unfortunately could not share in this tender moment, as the physical effort had drained him of his stamina, and his grasp on consciousness.

Footnote: Not all chapters will be long teases like this one. I just can't force juicy bits into the story just to have them. They have to feel right.

As always, please tell me what you think. I appreciate all feedback, as I continually perfect my work.

Next chapter: Mule's Return!