Responsibility Ch. 26

He was whispering something to her, something about how she glowed. Then he ground her onto him, rubbing the soft tip of his penis against her opening and little nubbin up top. Rahela gasped and whined at each little touch, knowing that she'd soon have a long period where she wouldn't have those little touches. She took some of his sleeve in a hand and moved as if she wanted to tear a good portion away.

She was already getting a bit cold, but she tolerated it well. There was even a bit of heat welling up in her groin, and she knew she was flushed there. The man's chest wildly heaved against her. She bounced against the movement. It was a clumsy, almost foolish exchange.

A moment or so of more weak little pleasures, and then the Emperor wrapped an arm around her back. His free hand sunk between the two of them, even between her thighs.

Rahela almost thought she was being pinched for a second, but then the well-known penetration came. To give him more space, she had to put some of her weight on her knees to move her groin up. That was fine. Her face was turned away, but little whines were stretching out from her throat. Her toes were hurting. Her heart was already berserk, and that hurt too.

Not much time was needed at all. Her muscles clamped and clung to the digit, turning slick and even slightly noisy. It was such a warm and nearly satisfying feeling, as if her body wanted to suck his finger up. When he added a second, she put more weight on her feet and tried to swallow down a cry.

"Come, Little Bacon," the Emperor hissed down onto her hair. A final little swirl inside her flexing tunnel, and he dragged his fingers out. Still wet, those fingers pressed into her hips again. He guided her right where he wanted, perhaps even needed her to be.

She couldn't help it. One of her legs folded a bit around the man. It was almost as if her leg was rebelling. That's how automatic it felt. She simply needed to pull herself closer, needed to make him sink deeper in. It didn't matter that at some points, when the tip seemed to almost touch her cervix, there were tiny and hurtful bits. The pleasure overlapped the pain.

They were both repeating noises with little to no meaning. Short yelps. Long groans. Heavy panting. The tent was shaking. The items hooked to their belts rattled and clattered. Rahela actually put her arms around the man.

She was fastened to him.

How frightening it would be for him to leave!

Please don't leave!

Her nails dug into his clothing. She almost wept. Even when the pleasure climbed and climbed up and around in her body. Even when she was seizing and twitching. Even when her eyes forgot how to function for some seconds. Even when all her nerves were ridiculously sensitive, receiving the most maddening yet delightful signals. She almost wept.

Even when she was limp and weak. Even when she was pressed against the Emperor's chest. Even when he was violently thrusting into her, grunting.

Even when they were both still and quiet, except for their breathing.

Even when, after a short while, the Emperor gently nudged her off of him and adjusted his legs.

Even when he was getting a flask of water and a linen rag from one of his pouches so he could wipe away the trickling mess on his penis and thighs.

Rahela put her wrist to her lips and forced her misery back down her throat. She was able to keep that misery down when His Majesty personally wiped her between her legs.

Once their clothing was back in normal order, braies and cloaks and all, they spent some more time sitting together. Rahela wanted to mount Ureche and ride on back to their group. Instead, she let His Majesty hold her close once more and listened to him murmur more of his favorite stories to tell, although they were much shorter this time.

There was a trembling cry!

They both looked towards it, as if they were trying to see through the tent's fabric.

Another cry! Animalistic! Distressful! Uneven!

The horse and mule!

Not a single hint of hesitation, the Emperor pulled up a dagger from his belt and sliced through one of the fabric walls. Then he propelled himself through the opening. Apparently he'd thought that was much faster than fiddling with the cord holding the exit closed.

More quick rustling outside.

Rahela laced her fingers at her bosom and gulped down a chunk of fear that had built up in her throat.

"Who are you?!" The Emperor was speaking to someone. No. Yelling. And again. "WHO ARE YOU?!" Then a moment where Rahela could only hear distant breathing.

And then ...

A quiet woman's voice. An emotionless woman's voice.

"I'm hungry."

***