Drowning at Dusk Ch. 06

"Not really. I just like the distraction. I like to forget. I like to...drift."

I looked back to the crashing waves, watching as an impact finally caused one of the rock formations to collapse. Sea-battered stone tumbled down into the sea, vanishing beneath the churning surf.

"I tend to prefer a nice bit of lovemakingbefore the fury and the carnage," he said. "I like to be...focused on the tryst. Hard to do when you're grieving. But if a battle goes truly well and there's not much to grieve, then it can be a good way to celebrate."

I reached out a hand, settling on his forearm, and hoped that the gesture conveyed reassurance rather than desire. Judging from the warm, sad smile he gave me, the touch had the intended effect.

"And it stings a bit," he said, his sad smile turning into a slightly devious grin. "That you'd only come to meafter you realized Terakh was too seasick to give you what you needed."

"Honestly, I figured Terakh would be easier to snare, so I set my sights on him first. And I've had him before."

"You almost sound sentimental."

"I've only had him twice. And both of those times we were...restrained, in a sense. And Xelari was there."

"Restrained?" He laughed. "That sounds fun, though."

"It was. But neither of us have had a chance to truly let loose on one another since."

We fell silent, pondering the waves and the twirling flocks of birds together.

"You're a confusing one, Esharyn."

"How do you mean?"

"You almost threw yourself at Varanthir after your duel with him. You've clearly been daydreaming about Terakh's cock ever since we boarded, and yet the look in your eyes when you mention Xelari..."

"We have an arrangement, I suppose. I don't know really what to call it or how to describe it. We sleep with whoever we wish. We share our beds with others, and share lovers when the moment arises."

"That sounds very elven of you. And unconventional for a human. Most humans I know tend to be more jealous, more exclusive."

"I've had an unconventional life. That makes for unconventional relationships. I'm guessing it's the same for you."

"For now. In the glade where I was raised, we're wild and wanton until we settle down. Once we choose a spouse, we're bound for life under the traditional meadow elf rites. No straying, no playing outside of marriage. An incredibly restrictive bond. That's why most meadow elves don't even marry. One in ten, maybe."

"Not a future you imagine for yourself?"

"Someday. After another century of wandering, fighting, and sleeping around, if I find a person who is wicked and debauched enough to make monogamy interesting..."

My laughter echoed across the deck. I barely knew Kivessen, and yet I found it impossible to imagine him settling down in some meadow elf glade, with a dutiful elven bride and a brood of giggling elven brats.

"Can't really picture that."

"Neither can I. But something tells me that you didn't picture yourself in a relationship like the one you have with Xelari now."

"Damned right about that. I was blindsided by it. I was like a blissfully unaware sea captain, sailing straight into a storm."

A storm that had terrified me. A storm that I now cherished. A storm that I couldn't ever imagine sailing out of.

"Bad luck, to speak of storms at sea," said a passing sailor, glaring up at the clouds and making what looked like a religious warding gesture with his hands.

"I can't promise you the distraction of sex," the meadow elf said. "But I can offer the next best thing."

"A bit of snogging, perhaps?" I asked, teasing.

"A bit of sparring."

I laughed.

"Remember how my duel with Varanthir got my blood up? That's a bad idea."

"Damn. How about an archery contest, then? The crew has targets for practice."

The distraction wouldn't be nearly as good as a wild fuck, but it would do for the moment. Over the next hour, Kivessen and I unleashed arrows and bolts at the targets tossed by the sailors. Some of the crew joined in after a few rounds, placing bets and creating a sizable pool of silver. The pool expanded, until it grew big enough that even Terakh managed to stave off his vomiting to join in. Seasickness didn't do his accuracy any favors, and Kivessen ended up taking the whole pot. A gracious victor, he ended up splitting half of the winnings with the two sailors who'd placed second and third.

Night fell, and I returned to my cramped quarters to rub myself to two slow, frustrating climaxes. Nothing compared to a lover's touch, though. The fact that I'd fantasized about Xelari had only worsened my mood, as I found myself worried sick about her in the aftermath of that fleeting pleasure.

Only after I returned to the deck for a bit of aerobics and light duty alongside the sailors was I exhausted enough to sleep, and even then I was half-tempted to invite some of the sailors with me just to ease my aches and frustrations.

Come dawn, I heard Terakh vomiting again, and so would find no succor from the orc that day, either. Thus I threw myself into other tasks, helping the sailors clean the decks, adjust the rigging, and even drag in the fishing nets to help provide a meal for the day.

None of it kept that ache at bay, though.

Kivessen, cordial as he was throughout the second day, clearly had no intentions of joining me in my quarters. With Terakh still practically an invalid, I had just decided to make a move on one of the more handsome sailors when a shriek of alarm rose from the crow's nest.

"Razor-drake splashes, southeast!"

I'd heard scattered stories of such beasts: aquatic reptiles with blade-like limbs and razor-sharp teeth. Aptly named creatures, if the stories were true, though I'd never had the misfortune to actually encounter them during any of my travels.

A sailor on the deck rang a bell, while others shouted in alarm. Feet thudded on the deck as a dozen more sailors came up from below, bearing cutlasses and crossbows. As the bell intensified, sailors scrambled towards the railing, loading bows and readying the two great ballistae affixed to the deck.

Frowning in confusion, I trotted over to the railing and glanced to the southeast, but saw nothing of note.

After looking with bewilderment from Kivessen to the sailors, I readied my crossbow. Terakh, apparently alarmed enough to keep his seasickness at bay, wiped spittle from his lips and tromped over to join us.

"Why in the Voids are they coming for us?" I asked. "They can't be stupid enough to see a ship as a meal."

"They've gotten a taste for certain cargo," said a sailor, who strung a bow with trembling hands. "A few years back, a ship went down full of cattle. Razor-drakes had themselves a damned fine feast, and ever since the sharp-toothed cunts have been coming after big ships, thinking every big ship has meat belowdecks. They'll ram the hull, and fling themselves on the deck, too. Let's just hope we can thin them out before they get too close, and maybe they'll feed on each other rather than us."

Given the churning white waves and the rocking of the ship, I didn't have any hope at all that we'd make a dent in the swarm before they closed in.

A thin, spiky red fin emerged from the water about fifty feet away, and I could just barely make out a dark flicker of movement beneath the water. The captain cried out, and a volley of bolts and arrows erupted from the sailors. Crimson splashed within the churning water.

The waves parted, and a horse-sized drake covered in red scales and black spines burst from the water, propelling itself upwards with shocking speed. A meager volley of arrows sliced into its armored underbelly, and the beast slammed onto the center of the deck, its spiky tail smashing into the mast. Undeterred by the arrows jutting from its stomach, it roared. Beady, furious black eyes raked over its prospective meal.

With a howl that I recognized from the times I'd fought against and alongside Terakh, the orc rushed in. Several sailors bellowed a warning, but he ignored them, ducked beneath a swiping claw, and unleashed brutal, reckless swings with his greatsword.

The blade parted through the joint of the drake's outstretched arm, sending the severed limb flying through the air, followed by a long spray of blood. With an exultant roar, he twirled the blade and brought it down in a savage blow to the beast's neck.

More volleys arced down at the other incoming beasts, and a cry of shock rose from the stern. Two razor-drakes, each a bit smaller than the one Terakh had just cut down, scrambled over the railing. A spiny tail slashed out, tearing through a sailor's leg and sending him pitching to the deck. As the drake reared up to finish off the helpless man, I broke into a sprint, unleashing my curved blade as I ran.

As I howled to distract the beast, its beady eyes twitched away from its wounded victim. It roared in reply, showing off a mouth filled with hundreds of tiny, knife-like teeth. It lunged for me, and the wounded sailor let out a cry and twisted to the side to get out of danger, leaving a thin streak of blood on the deck behind him.

The first slash of its claws came within inches of my throat, but my sudden sidestep saved me from a quick, bloody death. Its jaws clamped shut just above my left shoulder, and I dodged, slashing upward and ripping a deep gash in its neck. It gurgled and lurched after me, only to shriek in pain as a dozen arrows hit it in the flank.

As it lurched towards the archers who had wounded it, I seized my moment, leapt forward, and half-beheaded it with two rapid sword slashes. By the time I'd spun back around to aid Terakh, the other razor-drake was already twitching on the deck, its face and neck a ruin of blood and gore. The orc stood over the creature, panting and snarling, blood dripping from his greatsword and from two long wounds in his forearm.

The sailors whooped with delight, with one crying out that they'd driven the others off.

"We'll be eating well tonight," said Kivessen, laughing and clapping a nearby sailor on the shoulder before unstringing his bow.

Sheathing my blade, I rushed over to help the wounded sailor. Terakh tore off his cloak and wrapped it around his leg, while I clamped both hands above the wound to slow the bleeding.

Within moments the ship's healer arrived, readying his runestone and shoving us out of the way. As we stepped back, nearly slipping on the blood-soaked deck, Terakh leaned his head back and burst into laughter.

"What the fuck is so funny?" the wounded sailor whimpered, before wincing as the healer shoved the glowing runestone over his bloody leg.

"All that terror and fury seemed to have cured my seasickness." He laughed again, then knelt back down to steady the wounded man as the healer worked.

I looked to the rest of the crew: no deaths, no other injuries. Aside from that wounded shin and the deep gash to Terakh's forearm, we'd made it through unscathed. To make the situation even better, it seemed that I would now finally have my chance to drag Terakh into my quarters given that the adrenaline had fought off his nausea.

An hour later, as the sun descended and the shadows embraced the sea, the wounded sailor hopped up on a barrel and raised his tankard high. Long chunks of drake meat roasted on a spit, casting a pleasant aroma across the deck.

"A toast!" he bellowed. "To these two lunatics who charged those razor-drakes and saved my sorry hide."

I laughed and waved away the praise.

"How about a toast to the healer who saved your leg?" I countered, raising a cup to the grizzled, portly old healer who still had a few bloodstains on his tunic. The man grunted and rejected the praise, just as I had.

A sailor started stomping on the deck, and a few others joined in. Within half a minute, they'd started a rather rubbish rendition ofThe Fox and the Fool. I looked to Terakh, noted his scowl at the song he hated so much.

I laughed, but not hard enough to forget my own need for a distraction.

And not nearly hard enough to forget Xelari, or the uncertainty and dread about the days to come.

Shaking his head, Terakh brushed past the singing sailors and moved to stand by the railing. Thankfully the seasickness didn't strike again, though the song seemed to put him in a fouler mood than the vomiting had. I remembered how he'd complained about hearing it all the time when he'd worked at a tavern, and recalled what Xelari had said about his affection for a tavernkeeper. Was there some connection between the song and his heartbreak? Had it been a favorite of the woman who'd left him after he'd embraced the Deathless?

If so, then he likely needed a distraction just as much as I did.

I joined him by the railing, and placed a hand upon his bandaged forearm.

"Been waiting for that sickness to fade," I said softly. "Suppose I should be grateful to those ugly beasts for showing up."

That scowl shifted to a faint smile.

"Food first. I'll need all my strength for what I'll want to do to you."

"A bath, too," I said, poking at his tunic, which was still soaked with water and spattered with drakes' blood. "We'll end up making a mess of each other anyway, but better to start clean, right?"

The hunger in his crimson gaze came damned close to dispelling thoughts of Xelari from my mind.

***

An hour later, after having dined and bathed, I waited in my quarters for Terakh. To save us both some time, I'd already stripped out of my clothes and had reclined on the bed, intending to give Terakh quite the stunning view upon his arrival.

The brute didn't even bother to knock, and instead stormed inside. Even from across the room I could smell the lavender soap he'd washed himself with, and spotted the faint sheen on his skin from the bath he'd taken. It was likely the cleanest he'd ever been in my presence: there hadn't been the time or supplies for proper baths in the Wildwood when we'd first met and fucked, after all.

He paused in the doorway, and we both leered at one another for a few moments. As I ran my toes up and down the sheets, shifting idly in hungry anticipation, I noted the growing erection beneath his trousers.

After slamming the door shut behind him, the orc stormed across the room, tearing off his tunic in the process. I hissed with delight at the sight of the muscular expanse of his torso, and my hands rose to brush over the firm skin and the faded scars. My hands drifted higher, up to his neck, and grazed over the bronze amulet that marked him as a member of the Deathless.

"What was that word of yours?" he asked. "The one in case things went too far?"

"Emerald." I licked my lips and reached for his belt, undoing it in a heartbeat. "Why? Do you intend on putting me to the test tonight?"

"Perhaps." He raised an eyebrow, and brushed his fingers through my hair. "But, uh, what if you can't speak?"

I laughed and shoved my hand down the front of his pants; we both gasped as my soft fingers closed around his thick cock.

"Three taps," I said, demonstrating against his muscular arm. I assumed he wanted a signal like that in case he decided to choke me, or if he wished to brutally fuck my mouth with that massive prick of his. I was certainly up for it, provided I had a way out.

"Works for me," he grunted, then kicked off his boots and reached down to help me with his trousers.

The trousers hadn't even fallen to his ankles before he pushed me back on the bed, and I groaned at the domineering weight of his bulk pressing down against me. After a bit of awkward squirming to free himself from his trousers and smallclothes, the orc grabbed me by the chin and tilted my head back.

"Disappointing," he muttered.

"What is?"

"The bite marks I left on your neck the first time we fucked seem to have faded."

"Rectify that, then."

He tilted my chin back down so he could meet my gaze.

"And what about your pretty meadow elf friend up there? Do you think he'd still want you if I marked you?"

My soft laughter filled the room.

"I think he'll want me just fine. I flirted up a storm with him before, and we discussed the prospect of sharing a bed together someday."

"Damn. Was hoping to make him jealous. Get him all fired up. Maybe goad him into challenging me to a fight, so I could beat him bloody, get a fire in my heart going, and then make you scream while he listened."

I laughed and gripped his cock, running my fingers up and down the impressive length.

"If you want, you can pretend he's the jealous sort, if you need that sort of ridiculous notion to get you off." I looked down between his legs and licked my lips. "Or you can stop worrying about another man and get to work."

To my shock, he didn't slip his manhood inside of me or throw me to my knees so he could use my mouth. Instead Terakh shifted lower, giving each of my nipples a gentle bite before settling his mouth between my legs. I laughed, having not expected that particular move from him, given that he had me at his mercy.

"How generous of you," I said.

"Don't be mistaken. I'm just getting you nice and wet. Making it easier for you to take it."

Before I could laugh or taunt him further, that broad tongue brushed over my folds. I yelped, my back arching; the orc growled and continued. Almost immediately I could see why he'd been able to draw forth such beautiful little moans from Xelari. Despite his brutish and demanding attitude, he possessed no small amount of skill. That rough, thick tongue caressed every inch of my sex, and the way it thrummed against my clit when he growled...

I laughed with delight, my fingers digging into his scalp. The laugh shifted to a groan of frustration as he broke away.

"That's it?" I whined.

"I'll give you more later. If you're good. But we both know you won't be. You'll just be a damned teasing brat, won't you?"

"Absolutely."

Terakh raised himself up, settling between my lithe, trembling legs. I stared down, eyes wide with anticipation, as he gripped that thick, impressive cock and slipped it into me. My whimpers entwined with his hungry growls as he took me all the way to the hilt. His firm, demanding hands grasped my legs and braced them against his shoulders, leaving me wonderfully helpless and exposed.

"Satisfy my curiosity," I murmured, taking a deep breath as he pulled back and slammed forward for the first thrust. After a loud, trembling moan, I continued. "How often did you think about our first night together, hmm? How many times did the image of me all chained up and helpless get you off?"

Laughing, he gripped my ankles and settled into a rough, brutal pace: just as fierce and unyielding as he'd been when he fucked me in that cave.

"I know that trick," he grunted. "Xelari asked me a similar question once. After the second time she let me taste her, she demanded to know how many times I'd stroked myself to the memories of the first time."

"And the answer?" I managed between rising moans.

"To Xelari's question?" Another low, groan-filled laugh. "Two times. And to your question? Four."

I beamed with pride at the thought of 'beating' Xelari in such a fashion, and rewarded him by giving him a little show and reaching for my pert breasts to toy with my nipples.

After a few minutes I reached between my legs, and he adjusted his grip, splaying my legs a bit wider to make things easier for me. Only a minute of those rough thrusts and the rubbing of my fingers drew out my first orgasm: a long, low, and moan-filled one, that sent warmth rippling from my core and into the rest of my body. My eyes fluttered, before snapping open to stare up into his hungry crimson eyes, wanting to watch every moment as he gave in.

But he didn't surrender just yet, and instead shoved my legs apart and leaned down. The adjustment in the angle ignited something in him, and he snarled out something in orcish. I looped an arm around his neck. Remembering how my desperate whispers to him had set him off when he'd first used me, I leaned up to suckle and nibble at his earlobe.