Love Has No Grave

Valjon smiled warmly at the couple and squeezed Sulva's hands before rising and bringing his hood back over his head. Elia rose and met him at the door, standing in his way with worry on her face.

"Good evening, my dear. Time is of the essence and I don't wish to encumber you any further."

She pulled him outside and held onto his sleeve as she whispered to him.

"Valjon, is there really a way to bring the old Sulva back to me?"

The warlock blinked at her and swallowed a rebuke rising up his throat.

"Surely there is, Elia. I find it unlikely a magician as skilled as I, able to raise the dead, would be unable to raise something as simple as a memory. Chin up, girl."

He turned to make his leave.

"Valjon! Thank you, again, for everything. You've done something... I don't think you even know how much you have given us."

"You're right, Elia. I don't. Goodnight."

The warlock crept home and the woman backed into hers.

"So, what do you think?"

"About what, Sulva?"

"This being a honeymoon. What he said about us getting to know each other again."

Elia saw that his arms were twisted together like a pair of snakes in his effort to restrain himself and smiled.

"Yes, I think it's a good idea."

"Have we had one before?"

Elia chuckled and sat down beside Sulva, taking one of his arms.

"If going to Turnley and feeding ducks counts, yes."

Sulva frowned and raised his free arm over his head so it could spasm harmlessly.

"I don't remember Turnley."

"It's just another town down the road. Prettier, for sure. Next to a clear blue lake lousy with fowl. We couldn't afford anything fancy so we settled on a trip rich in sentimental value than one to boast about."

Elia began to work into Sulva's shoulder, kneading into the tissue and soothing his unconscious need to thrust. She pressed her fingers together like a blade and wiped deep circles into the muscle, feeling the loosened vice grip of death ease under her touch. Sulva watched her hands work down his bicep and onto his forearms with rapt interest, amazed by the instant return of faculty in the places her hands had massaged. She grinned at him from her hands and pressed on, letting her fingers do the talking until Sulva asked another question.

"It sounds pretty. Could we go there again? Once I'm myself again, of course."

Elia got to her knees and shuffled to his other side, retrieving his arm and digging her fingertips into his flesh.

"Funny thing about that. You may have to be someone else again, as will I, if we're to show your face around here again. We'll probably have to move, Turnley would be a nice first stop."

"I hadn't thought of that. Did many know me?"

"You were the best courier in the county; I doubt folk would forget the man who always brought them their mail on time."

Sulva beamed with pride, even though he could not recall any of the faces of the people he had delivered mail and messages to. He watched Elia's industrious little hands grind the muscles in the back of his arm into cooperation. He could feel life return to him under her care, and pleasure spring from the pain of her tight grip assaulting his limb.

"Your hands are soft yet strong, Elia."

Elia blushed and wrung his forearm.

"You know, you said the exact same thing to me even when you had remembered all the times prior I had laid my hands upon you."

Sulva's eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. One of his feet kicked into the air and settled back onto the floor with a blunt knock.

"Do you think I'm getting my memories back?"

Elia squeezed the hand she had finished rubbing and laid it in his lap. She glanced at him and felt the urge to kiss him again. Still so excitable, so wondrous, just like a boy. She reached down to his thigh and started rubbing into the concentration of fat and muscle.

"I would love to think so, but no. I think this is just bound to happen. You are still Sulva. If we really did live our whole lives together again, without the spell, we would end up just the same as we were before you died. Perhaps better, for now I know what it's like to be without you."

Sulva's visage sobered but what she said churned through his mind for a moment. He lost track of it, distracted by the waves of relief that emanated from Elia's attention on the tops and sides of his meaty thighs. She moved downward, to his knee and he felt a tingling in his thighs that faded into distant, steady awareness. He recalled what she had said.

"So, if the warlock is unable to find a cure, you would be willing to start over with me?"

Elia hesitated, because she thought she should think about such a thing beforehand, but she felt no need.

"Yes. Till death do us part."

She raised her hand to show him a dull gold ring on her finger. His eyes widened with hollow recognition, not of his proposal and offering the jewelry to her, but the symbol proof of their union. He raised his hand and spied a matching ring gleaming bright on his finger in contrast with his pale skin.

"Oh!"

"That is different, though."

Elia finished rubbing the heel of her hand into the sole of his foot and lifted the other. She pressed circles into the ball of his foot and wriggled his toes. She would have thought the task unpleasant if she had not unearthed and dragged his corpse home days prior.

"What is?"

"You were always ashamed of our rings, it was all you could afford. You wanted to forgo your own so you could buy me one of pure gold and jewels, but I would rather the world know you're my husband."

"Even under a different name."

Sulva smiled at her, a warm expression on his face. He had regained fine control over his features. His eyes smiled as much as his lips did.

"Yes, you're right. Perhaps we'll take the names we picked out for our children until we find a place no one will know us."

"What names had we in mind?"

"Oh, I wonder if you'll still like them."

"I am still me, I'm sure I'll like them."

Elia moved up to his thigh, using both of her hands to squeeze and choke the tightness out of the meat of his legs. Her hands flattened and pressed against his skin and slid lightly over the tops of his thighs, producing a breeze-like sound of skin over skin. Her fingertips curved inward at the extent of her reach and retracted to restart the cycle of push and pull across his flesh, filling him with a familiar ember of warmth in his belly.

"Stella, for a girl, and Ando for a boy."

"Those are fine names. Though, maybe you were right. I did only know three names until you told me those two, so I may not be the best judge."

Elia laughed heartily, the tension and nervousness easing out of her with the laugh. Her hands held onto the inner sides of his thighs, and lingered there after she recovered. He enjoyed the contact, the warmth of it most of all. To him, it felt like life itself washing over him once again, thawing him out of the frozen unfeeling of death.

"There you are again: Sulva."

Her hands picked up from where they had rested in his lap and coursed up and down the tops of his thighs to glance his pelvis. As awareness returned to him, so did the absence of it in the island that was his crotch amidst the sea of resurging feeling that washed over his lower body. He watched her hands, and wondered if they would stop to massage his repaired member.

"What's stopped us from making them? Surely not that."

He nodded toward the deadzone of feeling and Elia's hands stopped where they were, as close to his cock as they were. She eyed it sheepishly.

"No, of course not. We never had any trouble there. You'd just been gone more often, to take more routes to begin saving for a baby. When you got home, though, there would be no time wasted in trying. Then, you died, of course."

"Do you blame me, Elia?"

Elia looked into his eyes, the color had returned to them, and he watched her just as intently as he always had. She had not considered blaming him, in her grief, but she had wondered if she should. What new beginning would be had with the expansion of their family if the matter was the same as the rings? And how had Sulva paid? With his life, with Elia's heart, and their future, left to Elia to live without even a baby boy to remember him by.

She couldn't be angry with him. She had missed him too much. She was too happy to have him back. Besides, he was murdered. He had no choice in the matter, aside from taking on the job, which he did to support the family they had both been so eager to build.

She shook her head.

"No, I don't blame you. I don't blame anyone. The nobleman and the murderer have both gone, and now you're back. There's nothing more to be done but hope the warlock can bring your memories back."

"And to make our babies."

Elia gasped and Sulva's worried look conveyed he thought he did something wrong.

"Already? I would think you'd be dying to live as much as possible for a while."

"Well, not now. But I want to. It sounds like the perfect way to bring us together."

"If the warlock fails."

"If the warlock fails. Of course."

Elia returned her attention to her hands, a mischievous grin commandeering her lips in a half hearted attempt to submerge the effect of the thought that had come to her. Her fingertips crawled purposefully down his thigh and rested a fingernail away from the dormant organ. She flicked her eyes to his and smiled even more wickedly, having caught his hungry gaze fixated on her hands.

"Can you feel this, husband?"

She brushed her fingers over his shaft, each fingertip leaving but a kiss before continuing on their path to land below his groin. She watched him expectantly, awaiting his calculated answer.

"...No. But I can see it, that is clear as day to me."

"Would you like to feel it? I believe I know another way to bridge the gap between us until the warlock returns to us."

"Yes, I would, Elia."

She snickered at his undead request and leaned over him, bringing her lips against his cheek for a brief kiss. He gasped and stared at her, dumbfounded. The pure childlike wonder he wore so unabashedly melted what had reassembled of her heart. She kissed his other cheek, sure he deserved it. He watched breathless, disabled momentarily by the kisses that had instilled warmth through his cheeks and shot down to his heart. His body twitched under her trailing fingers, so soft, so lightly did they trace veins back up his thighs. They rested there for but a moment before slipping down to cup his genitals. He could not feel her lightly squeeze and test the testes, but he felt anticipation pure and bubbly in his chest.

Elia did not know what had come over her. She felt hot all over and in need. She knew she was lonely, but she had not understood all that she had been bereft of since the loss of her husband. Her loins beckoned to her, as if to remind her of their hunger by stirring themselves into an uproar below her. She lifted herself off her knees and planted herself just above his knees, bracing her thighs beside either leg and pressing herself against his bare flesh. The contact relieved her craving, crossed the threshold and brought her into the game of give and receive, push and pull, wait and proceed.

She reached down and took Sulva's flaccid cock in her hands and started to squeeze it, rhythmically flexing and easing her fingers around it. She moved one hand to grip the base and began to rub her palm against the underside of the stiffening rod. She closed her grip around the tip and rubbed her fingertips over the rounded head. She could feel his heartbeat rise through the hardening flesh. His length was soon realized, and her hand slipped back down the shaft to massage and rub the tender skin. Her other hand began to churn and twist up and down the base of his cock, grinding feeling into him, and making him cry out as the stimulation hit him.

A throbbing pulsed through Sulva's crotch and up his torso and ebbed into a flow of pleasure that caught him fully off guard as he regained feeling in his most sensitive area. Her hands worked him, softly, yet strongly they rubbed and squeezed and pulled and massaged him, just as she had laid her hands upon him elsewhere. He heard a squelch and braved the raw, heady stream of pleasure that overwhelmed his nascent senses. He saw her hands work in tandem over his shaft, grinding up and down the root of his cock and slipping over the drooling slit at the head. She ran her hand from the top to the bottom and then twisted to coat his member in his own fluid.

Sulva groaned and braced himself on his elbows, rolling onto one and then the other.

"How does it feel, husband?"

"Overpowering, excruciating."

"Should I stop? Is it too soon?"

"No! I feel totally alive. Don't stop, please."

Elia indulged his plea and set to work bringing him back to life in earnest. His cock stood to take its torture proudly. It throbbed under her hands, she wondered if it was painful for him, if he could even feel pain yet. She shlicked her hand up and down him quickly, ensuring every inch was lubricated in his emission. He bucked into her hand as it passed over the sensitive juncture of glans and underbelly, accompanied by a moan hoarse and unbridled. She was excited and encouraged by his untempered reaction to her touch. Her own sex was beginning to melt and her blood began to quicken in her veins. It really was like meeting him all over again. She had been his first, and he hers, but he sat under her a virgin once again as far as he was aware. It brought a flush to her cheeks, a rush to her vigor.

She began pumping her hands over the length of his cock, sending them to meet in the middle from their respective ends, pausing to twist around the top and bottom before resuming the cycle. Sulva was huffing and panting incessantly, she feared he would burst already. Why shouldn't he? The man was dead for a week, he deserved some satisfaction for his trouble.

"I'm going to make you cum, Sulva. I want to see you lose it for the first time all over again. I can't wait, love, I need to take it from you."

Sulva lolled his tongue and watched dumbly as his wife grabbed his shaft like she had caught a snake and began sliding it up and down his shaft in steady, powerful motions. Her other hand shifted to caress his tensed sack. She massaged the orbs within carefully, and undulated her fingers under them, squeezing his most precious part with care. The flood of bliss made him feel weightless, numb, in a way he could now appreciate knowing the world would return to him only after he had his glorious orgasm. Her hand swept over the sensitive bump at the end of his rod relentlessly, pushing him closer and closer to his end. The pressure built up in his ears, his cock felt full to burst. He rocked his head back down to watch his wife at work and he thought he could see himself bear her debilitating assault out of his own body.

Each wild stroke triggered a physical reaction from Sulva. His toes curled and uncurled, his back arched and flattened against the wall, and his hands shook on the floor. Each pump blasted another wave of blinding succor through his nerves and dazzled his mind. He began to forget himself again, knowing only the shattering impact of her fist meeting his pubic mound. He could feel Elia rock her hips over him, rubbing her burning hot center against his legs in time with each pump of her hand. The sound of her hand, covered in his juices, slipping up and down his length was the lewdest thing he had ever known in his short second life. The smell of his and her excitement mingling and wafting through their shared space triggered a primal flare of his nostrils to take in as much of the scent as he could, gasping for breath all at once. He could take no more.

His hips lifted shakily off the floor and pushed his length through the tight ring of Elia's hand. He grunted with the exertion, and hissed as he floated back down.

"I'm glad to see your strength come back to you! What else can you do?"

Sulva leaned forward glacially and slapped a hand onto Elia's thigh, gripping the dress that covered her like a claw with his fingers. Elia looked down and saw the fingertips attempt to dig into her. She bit her lip and removed her hands from him to slowly lift her dress up, allowing his hand to inch forth like a determined spider sent to do his bidding. She gasped sharply at the mere brush of his fingers as they slid under her enflamed sex. She ground herself from side to side over the ridges of his knuckles, squeaking from the pleasure the wonderful friction provided her. His knuckles arched rhythmically in response, inadvertently slipping the top of his middle knuckle into her moistened, tender flesh. Her head swam and she could not contain the long moan that coursed through her lungs and escaped her lips.

"Ever kind, Sulva, but you distract me. You're the focus, not me."

She slid back, and bent down, stopping but a breath away from the tip of his cock. She smiled devilishly up at his stupefied face. She held the twitching member steady, and wrapped her lips around his head. His bated breath exploded in a torrent of curses and sharp breaths.

"You recall how to swear, then?"

"Did I swear much before?"

"Only sometimes."

She winked at him and returned her lips to his cock, wrapping them around his head and slowly, deliberately, pushed them down his length. He bucked into her throat, he could not control it. Elia gagged but remained where she was, taking his fervent, clumsy incursions until she had to withdraw for a breath. Even this proved delectable to his hypersensitive flesh. Elia recovered and plunged back down his shaft, laving wildly all the way. She sucked hard, eliciting a low, drawn out groan from Sulva that sounded like he had been stuck with a dagger. She took this as encouragement, and a sign of his impending orgasm. She bobbed up and down rapidly, driving him headlong to his limit. His growls and groans and flailing extremities told her it would require little more to send him over the edge.

She lifted her head to make room for a hand, and unleashed a flurry of lubricated movement up and down his shaft to collide violently with her sucking lips. Her lips encapsulated his head, and subjected the underside of the tip to a forceful assault of her tongue.

"Elia! Elia! Elia..."

She didn't stop. She didn't look up. She didn't slow down. She maintained her rapid attack on his spasming member until his cries peaked, and he began to shoot his seed over her tongue and down her throat. The taste was disagreeable, the fluid of life having been stored within a dead man's vessel for days, but she was too thrilled to take her husband's seed again to care. His cock buried itself in her throat, blasting its copious ropes of life giving liquid into her endlessly. He let out a final, ragged cry and fell slack under her. She swirled her tongue over his slit, absorbing every drop of him before letting loose his cock with a heavy plop onto his belly.

She coughed to clear her throat of the viscous seed that had passed through it and looked up at her husband. It looked like he had died again. His head hung limply into his chest, his arms were splayed out unnaturally and he made no sound.

"Sulva?"

A droning noise emanated from his throat. Elia giggled and pulled herself onto his lap and raised his chin with a finger. His eyelids fluttered like he was asleep and a satisfied smile grew over his face.

"Elia."

"Yes, love? Are you alright?"

'Yes, yes. Elia, Elia, Elia."

"What is it, Sulva?"

"Thank you."

She snorted and laid her head on his chest, getting an earful of his slumbering heartbeat as she lay there.

"You're very welcome. It's the least I could do."

"There's something else, Elia."

She drew herself back and looked him in the eye, a sober look clear on his face.