Amethystra

Below him, he could see the three mounds of Amethystra bearing her three major landmarks: the Violet Tower, House Torvirr, and the Tower of the Crimson Hawk. Lights glinted within the vaguely ovular city, and he tried to imagine what the people were about at this late hour.

Warmth pulled him from his ruminations, and a small, familiar hand at his lower back clued him in to who had joined him out here, away from the protective barrier that kept sailors from freezing in the cold night air.

Luriia was bundled up in her iconic red robe, a gift from her goddess that changed form to suit her needs. Now it was thick, heavy wool and trimmed in silvery fox fur, but still hugged her alluring physique. Her head came to the center of his chest, and he draped his massive arm over her shoulders, pulling her in close.

"Let them wait for morning," Luriia said, "before you go thundering down like a bolt of lightning."

Hammer grinned, laughing. The sound rumbled in his chest, and she rubbed her face tighter against his thinly-covered torso as though the sound was soothing to her.

"I wanted to enjoy one last night in the sky," he said to her, turning his gaze from his terrestrial home up toward the sky, where stars winked at him from behind the thin clouds. "I would have enjoyed one last thunderstorm."

"That season is over," Luriia said. "Soon come the snows and ice."

"The next best thing," Hammer said. He grabbed one of the rigging ropes tighter as a brisk wind buffeted the ship, which was magically anchored by the elemental engine, tethered directly to the plane of air to keep from drifting across the sky or crashing to the ground.

"And where do I rank amongst storm and snow?" Luriia asked, drawing Hammer's attention. He looked down into her radiant garnet and gold eyes, peering up at him from her obsidian black face. The dark elf was the most resplendent creature in all the world, so he believed, and, for some reason, had chosen to make him her husband. His love for her was endless, and he knew it was reciprocated.

Both massive arms wrapped around the woman, pulling her tight as he bent down to kiss her softly at first, then more insistently. Coyly, she slid her hands from his back down to his buttocks, gripping the two granite-hard muscles in her hands and giggling into his kiss.

"You'll freeze," he admonished his wife, who was already slipping out of her robe. Her breasts were bare in short order, the delicate nipples immediately stiffening into black gemstones that he promptly pressed against his stomach. He was inured to such temperatures, and his body radiated enough body heat to warm the coldest of homes thanks to his enormous musculature.

"Then keep me warm," she said, her robe diminishing to a simple sash around her waist. She was completely naked, and Hammer could see her black skin pale into a dark gray from the chill. She turned away, her hands taking hold of the rails on the ship's prow as she pushed her backside against Hammer's groin.

She never failed to excite him, and his trousers strained against that excitement. He hastily untied his pants, pushing them down to his knees as Luriia stepped up onto a small platform, raising her hips to the right level. He slid into her easily, for she, too, was thoroughly aroused and eager despite the cold. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her back to his chest and holding her tight. One massive hand gripped her firm breast as her head leaned back into his shoulder. He filled her completely, binding them together.

Luriia's sigh was laced with a humming moan that brought a grin to Hammer's bearded face. He kissed the side of her neck, tickling the sensitive skin with his facial hair as his hips rocked back and forth. They were comfortable with each other, happy, and the way they felt together was more fulfilling than either of them could have ever dreamt possible in their youths. More than that, there was a spark—to Luriia, it was divine, but for Hammer, it felt like a primal power between them, binding them—that seemed to ignite a deep, resonating passion between the two of them.

Wrapped up in Hammer's arms, Luriia wrapped her fingers around his thick forearms, wiggling her hips sensually against his thrusting manhood, shifting it within her in a way that had her bare feet curling against the wood beneath her. The cold stabbed at her skin, but her husband kept brushing it away with his questing hands, brushing over her body in waves of heat that ignited her flesh in the most sensuous ways.

As satisfying as that mundane, gentle intimacy was, both of them were prone to greater indulgence on a whim. Luriia pushed Hammer's arms away from her, braving the cold as she leaned forward and grabbed the railing. Hammer looked down at her exquisitely shaped backside, curved into perfect half-globes that met at an inviting cleft. His hands gripped her cheeks, squeezing and exposing that cleft and the dark star within. He caught his naelf wife looking back over her shoulder, grinning coyly and biting her lip.

There was a glint of magic on her skin, and he knew what to do. His manhood slowly withdrew from her sodden loins and the stiff crown of his member pressed against her star. Delighted, he spread the magically conjured grease from her anus to his head, pushing it in gently as she, after many years, still struggled to let his thickness into her ass. She moaned aloud, a deep, throaty sound that always sent a shiver of need through his body. His hands slid from her ass up her tapered back, all the way to her shoulders, as each inch of his manhood slid in easier than the previous. Deep in her, her muscles clenching and spasming around his member, Hammer knew that he needn't bother holding back.

Clenching the railing in front of him, Luriia arched her back as Hammer pulled back and thrust in, repeating it over and over, stroking her deepest core with his powerful manhood. The naelf seemed to have forgotten the cold as she grunted against his thrusting. He was one of the largest men she had ever taken, and he never failed to thrill her no matter which part of her body he inserted himself within. Lost in the bliss, nipples achingly hard in the cold, loins dripping down her thighs and cheeks slamming hard into her husband, Luriia Torvirr, the Divine Consort of Syrune, rode out her orgasm and struggled to not go limp into the ship's railing.

Hammer's grip on her shoulders kept her from straying too far and allowed him to thrust in harder as he pulled back on her. As she shuddered through her climax, her muscles spasming all around his sensitive manhood, he didn't bother holding back anymore. His virility flowed deep into her, pulsing powerfully as his voice rumbled like thunder all around the naked naelf woman.

He watched as her obsidian flesh began to glow with a rosy luminescence. It washed over him as well, as Luriia's divine magic spread to him as a product of her climax. He could feel the magic bolstering him—his body and spirit alike—and even restoring his manhood. It would have allowed him to continue rutting with his wife, if he so desired—and really, there was never a time when he didn't want to.

But Luriia pulled away from him, her eyes glowing brightly as she pressed her naked body against him. He embraced her even as her thick, woolen robe began to grow around her, around them both much like a fur-lined blanket. She kissed his chest and he scooped her up into his arms as he began to walk away from the prow.

They passed some stunned onlookers—the night watch for the Skystar, who had been privy to their carnal relations—on their way to the private quarters that had been set aside for the visiting dignitaries of Amethystra. Luriia's magic had worked wonders on the room, turning it from the drab, almost plain room into a nearly decadent home for the pair to live out their marital bliss. Hammer laid his wife down on the four-post bed as her red robe transformed into a silken shift that hung from her shoulders, baring her breasts and curves as Hammer slid in beside her.

His arousal was already growing again when she grasped for his manhood and kissed him. She draped her obsidian-skinned thigh over his hip, her heel digging into his backside to nudge him toward her. Her sex was perfectly positioned, and he slid into her without effort. A large, muscular arm wrapped around the dark elf, hand placed at her lower back as he pulled her tight against him, thusly filling her with his manhood.

Luriia was hardly half his size, but when she pushed against him, he rolled onto his back without resistance. She mounted him, hands pressed to his chest, then sliding along his arms and pinning his thick, strong hands over his head, against the pillows. She was careful as she rode him, knowing that his size would prove painful if she were reckless with her lust. Her body undulated, stroking his length with her silken loins. Hammer didn't push against her, knowing his wife's preferences as intimately as he might know his own. He waited, letting her coax her own sensitive loins with his imposing girth and length, before feeling her slide completely along him, her sodden flower against the base of his virility.

His hips flexed and she gasped as his cock surged within her, pushing up and filling her utterly. Her mouth fell open, a coarse moan of pleasure cascading from her throat to wash over Hammer like a tide of pure ecstasy. She shifted her hips forward, then back again, clenching her teeth as she rode through the intolerable pleasure and undeniable pain that came with rutting her husband. Luriia could have called on her divine, Syrune-granted magic at any time to ease the pain, to make her loins more accommodating to a man of Hammer's stature, but the idea repulsed her.

To alter their lovemaking would be to diminish its purity, its authenticity. Indeed, she had never considered altering her physical form for Hammer. She had seen into the man's heart, into his thoughts, and knew that his love and desire for her was pure and full. There was truly nothing he would change.

That comfort had unlocked parts of Luriia that she never knew existed. It had transformed their marriage into something that transcended mortal notions of love, affection, desire, and lust.

Her eyes opened, and she couldn't help but smile wide when she saw his bright blue eyes looking only at her. They followed the sway of her breasts, roamed the expanse of her abdomen, delighted in the cascade of moon-white hair that fell around them both, and drank from the slow-swirling pools of garnet and gold mingling in her irises.

He was hers in every way, and she was his.

They belonged to each other as she belonged to Syrune.

She released his hands, and they grasped at her skin as though he needed to feel her to survive. She abandoned herself to his lusts. His hips bucked, shocking her with bliss every time he thrust his manhood against her womb. The pain echoed along her spine. Her gasps became cries, then moans, then squeals of bliss as her loins flooded, a powerful orgasm washing over her, washing over him, infusing them both with divine magic that Syrune herself channeled into her.

Hammer came. His grunts soft in comparison to her own convulsions of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm locked him in place, hips flexed as his manhood spasmed and filled her deepest core.

She was smiling when he came down, already resting on his chest as she breathed deeply, raggedly, inhaling his masculine scent.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and she knew little more than the hallucinations her sleeping brain fed her. Images of her children, of her husband, of their many lovers danced through her dreaming mind. Hammer was there through it all, not just in her dreams but dreaming with her. When they awoke, it would be in this same position, the petite dark elf atop her titanic Aesir husband.

With a mess of quim and seed beneath them.