Into the Desert

The desert was a place that was never quiet. The ever shifting sands and the untameable winds that came as a long, lonesome, wail across the sky; the always moving wildlife that made the sounds of life stayed in the background, creating a cacophony, an orchestra that kept the entire thing going to a soundtrack that kept one on their toes, if they knew how to listen.

So long as it didn't go quiet, you knew you were relatively safe.

Luckily for Kira, she knew how to navigate the sounds of the desert almost as well as she knew how to navigate the forests of her own homeland, but she'd been wise enough to hire a guide all the same. It was never a bad idea to have someone else with you who knew the way, just in case you were wrong; two heads were always better than one, no?

The Azimeran deserts were not kind to strangers who thought it was easily trekkable, but Kira was happy to dress in the same garb as the nomads that occupied its breadth, and those that dwelled in the villages that'd been there long enough to mark the maps like henpecked breadcrumbs. Some were still there and some had been lost to the sands of time, which is a joke that her guide liked to remark on.

She rolled her eyes every time.

Still, that had been yesterday.

Today, she was sitting pretty in an inn that'd been constructed next to a dazzling oasis.The name had also gotten her attention: The Three Fingered Djinn; A waystation for weary travelers that were in desperate need for rest and respite.

And Kira was never more desperate for a respite than she was now.

With a limestone foundation that'd been reinforced with iron bars added to the mix and a skeleton made from local ironwood, the place had originally been a military outpost for some long since faded empire, and every inch of it still held strong. The owner, Kaseem, had made sure of that, he was a large, bronze skinned man, with a potbelly and arms that could crush rocks. Jovial, always with a joke on the tip of his tongue, Kira had barely known him a day, and already she was enamored.

Not half as enamored as she was with the bartender. She'd seen him looking, of course she saw him looking, the purple haired elf assumed most everyone was, at some point. Slim in the right places, but voluptuous in the others; it was as if the woman had been carved from ivory by a master artisan using only an hourglass as a reference. It was as if a drum should beat at a steady pace every time she walked. Kaseem was about to call the young bartender over but he stopped when Kira lifted a hand placed it upon his brawny shoulder. "Who, is that?" She asked, her head tilted to the side, those violet shaded irises on a human at a nearby table.

"I can't say that I know him, but I see that he has your eye." Laughing more than a little, but Kira simply bit her bottom lip, tugging it betwixt her teeth. The big man just patted her on her back, letting his hand linger before he nudged her. "Go on. All the men are going to cause a puddle from their drool, pick your stallion for the night and stop the nonsense." Mock offended, she placed a hand on her chest and mouthed 'moi?' before the big man rolled his eyes.

All the same, she stood up to her feet only to realize that her prey was choosing her. Bold, she liked bold men, she particularly liked bold human, much to the disdain and disappointment of her father, but that was irrelevant to her now.

His shoulders were broad, draping down to powerfully chiseled biceps and powerfully corded forearms; with hands the width an' length of frying pans and feet to match, the man was much like a bull with that raw muscle, with shoulders just as broad as one The green tunic he wore was tight around the chest and much looser around the waist, thost tufts of black hair peeking from the V shaped neckline with how it was angled. The way he walked was with purpose, even with the wine having sapped some of his grace. "Milady, may I have the honor of knowing your name?"

"Why would you want that?" She crooned, almost purring out those words.

"I want to know your name so I can tell people far and wide about the great beauty who's visage struck me blind."

"..The drink really brings out the poet in you, doesn't it?"

"It just brings out the words that were hidden away."

"Does this bit work often?"

"I'm up to three farmer's daughters and one lord's wife so far."

That brought an unladylike snort from Kira, a hand lifting to cover her mouth and nose as if to hide it. The man, however, offered her a cheeky grin. "So, your name, Milady? May I have the honor?"

"You first, Stranger. Who's addressing me?"

"Ser Rylan of House Deveraux."

"A knight? Of a lordly house from Azimera? Out here?" Curious? Absolutely, especially as she adjusted to stand, as if to get a better look at the brute.

"Aye... and I'm tired of pretending to not recognize a Princess from --" Kira quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, her brows furrowing as if to warn him to be careful. A quick glance to Kaseem, he hadn't heard them. Or, at least, he hadn't outwardly showed that he'd heard them.

"Then you know who I am, Ser Rylan." There those purring words were, letting them roll off of her tongue and into his ear, leaning into him, letting those milky mounds push against those linen wrapped granite slabs that he called a chest. She was warm, and smelled vaguely of vanilla and orchids, a scent combination that made Rylan nearly growl with near animalistic satisfaction. A wide palmed hand met her hip, tugging her closer, she weighed in with that hand on his chest. "If I give you a reward for shutting your mouth, do you think we can keep my identity a secret?" From afar, it looked like she was taking charge, and since none of them knew her true nature, it seemed normal enough. Rylan nodded, eager to find out what such a reward entailed. Something he'd soon find out as Kira rose and went to towards the stairs, casting a look back at him before trailing up to the second floor. She made sure to give the man a show, twitching those hips with a special sway to them.

It was like the scent of fresh blood to a wolf, and he was quick to follow, much to the laughter of a few in the room. It wasn't like they hadn't all been staring, some of them more than a little jealous.

The knight didn't take long to enter Kira's bedchambers, only to find a sight that well and truly almost struck him blind: Kira, kneeling in supplication. Naked as the day she was born, on her knees with her ankles crossed and her head bowed. Those pillowy mounds were the color of fresh milk, pale and supple, capped with extraordinarily pink nipples that were pebbled from the excitement. Full lips, round and plush, were in a welcoming smile, lifting her chin to capture him with those light colored eyes. "Come closer, My Knight, and take what you've been offered."

Rylan didn't question it, he was untying the front of his leather breeches, grasping that thick, fat, cock of his. Fingers squeezing that mess of veins, flesh, and carnal muscle, stroking it to life, not that he needed the assistance. The sight of her, the way she spoke, he already that hunger pang deep in his loins, something feral calling to his animal brain when he beheld her. He was hungry, and he needed to satiate the appetite of his; she knew what he needed and was already opening her mouth; her eyes met his, locked for the moment that those pillowy tiers washed over the bulbous head of his battering ram and sucking him back in. A low growl, a moan, strong hands were dropping to her head, while one hand gripped her ponytail at the base he let the other cradle the back of her skull.

The connection almost came with a clash of a cymbal.

Drool was left in a slow, heated, path that was carved out by her tongue. Slow, rhythmic, just like cobblestone roads came in the path of old dirt trails, her tongue traveled along the vein that was throbbin' so fuckin' hotly that it felt like fire warmed leather. Back, and then forth. Back, and then forth, washing his cock with her mouth. Skilled hands went on the attack, one steadily pumping his prick, rubbing in precum an' saliva with each fervent, loving, stroke; it took up every inch her eager mouth didn't. Not once did she tear those eyes away from his, even when he desperately wanted to lean his own head back. Tears lined her ears, the charcoal smudge she often wore to make her eyes look smokey was starting to run like black tears down her cheeks. Her hand's twin curled those soft digits up into his heavy balls, holding them, weighing them in her hand, playing with them as she worshipped his cock before pullin' back with a wet, hard, sucking..

POP of a sound. Strings of drool clung to her self abused lips, a smirk playing across her lips. Eyes still on his with her cheeks flushed, eyes a mess from the lack of oxygen. Her hands never left him, they just shifted up to keep stroking him. Coy? Without a doubt, cheeky too because the next words out of her mouth matched the expression. "Already going knobby kneed, Ser Knight?"

Rylan, however, wasn't down from the challenge. "Milady is fierce, a skilled opponent."

"Metaphorically, of course?"

"Aye, but the very best of enemies all the same."

"Why don't you take me th-- Ack!"

She needn't worry, he picked her up off of that floor and with the same momentum from lifting her? He dropped her hard onto the goosefeather packed bed like she was weightless. Stunned? Definitely. Excited? Beyond belief. Before she could comment, he was on her, his hands taking her by the head and shoving his mouth over hers to claim it, to distract her from the sudden intrusion of that cunt wrecking cock. She nearly screamed into his mouth as the rude penetration came with enough force to move the bed. From tip to hip, filling her without a warning. She almost felt him in her kidneys but was unable to scold him.

Not that he was giving her a chance. She challenged him, and the animal in him answered. In, and out. In, and out. Vicious repetition brought into a violent maelstrom of carnality. There was no pacing to his hips slamming into her thighs, there was no intention of giving any kind of control back to her. A hand lowered to clap itself over her mouth, quieting her and pinning her in one movement. Her teeth sinking into his hand didn't dissuade him. Princess Kira had taken a great deal of lovers, but this one stood apart with the prowess of an apex predator.

"Nngh," she managed to squeak out in response to his feral sounds, those guttural mounds that sounded more like a proud hound was mounting her like a bitch in a breeding pen. Which, thank the gods for the contraceptive magic that kept her from conceiving, she wouldn't dare tell this dark haired stud to pull out; it was rude and a waste of good seed that could be warming her insides.

Legs lifting, not content to let him do all of the work; thighs clasped over his waist, ankles crossing at the small of his back in a fool's errand to try and slow him, to make him fall into a rhythm that didn't have her nearly losing control of her bladder. She wasn't sure on if this man was trying to make her cum or split her up the middle but she was far from unwilling to stop it. Nails made red ribbons of his back only to soothe them out all the same, holding him, rolling her head back..

Did she lose consciousness? For a moment, she swore she did. She'd met her climax in a white hot explosion before her eyes, her back arching as she came up right against him, grabbing his face with her hands to force him to look into her eyes that had nearly crossed, putting her forehead against his, feral in how she ground her temple to his to mark him with her scent. It was too much for the feral knight, shuddering before falling atop her, emptying those heavy balls deep into her, painting her insides with his seed. He staggered, trying to keep himself up before he fell off to the side, holding her.

"You didn't do too bad, Ser Knight."

"I'll take that as high praise."

"You should."

He snorted at her, before rolling over to drag her closer, her hands on his arm.

"Maybe this adventure has hope yet."