Shards of the One Pt. 02

She stood perfectly still, not daring to look back at him. Instinctively, he placed a hand on her waist, as if to soothe a skittish horse. A sigh escaped her. He planted a kiss on her shoulder, as gently as he could.

"To bed, then?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord."

She stepped lightly to the bed and sat on its edge, hesitant. Varamir knew he would have to take the lead. Softly, he took her by the waist and lifted her to the bed's end, laying her on her back. She tried her best to remain dignified, which under the circumstances was very difficult. Her cheeks became flushed and the second he laid her down she covered her sex with both hands. He took her wrists gently and laid them at her sides. Between her legs she was hairless, freshly shaven. He stared at the large lips, trailing down into the darkness of her backside. Still his cock would not rise. He willed himself to be aroused. Her breasts lolled slightly as she shifted, raising her knees, offering herself to him.

"Like this, my lord?"

"Yes." His tongue failed him. He slid down his breeches, letting them pool at his feet. She could not help but stare as his flaccid member slipped free. Still nothing. He touched it with his hand and slowly brought it to erection. Her eyes widened and he felt her stiffen with anticipation. He met her gaze.

"My lady." He said, gently.

"My lord." She whispered.

He pushed his cock clumsily against her sex, nudging at her fruitlessly. Several moments passed, until Gionna summoned the courage to take his hand and help guide him further south. The nub of her clitoris raised as she spread slightly. The head of his cock passed between her lips and she gasped with pain. He felt resistance within her, but she held his wrist and urged him on wordlessly. Ambiguous moans issued from her mouth and she squinted as he forced himself further into her. She was unbelievably tight. Virginal. After a few tentative thrusts, she began to moisten, her breathing becoming less stilted and sharp, her body more relaxed. The grip of her cunt was nonetheless painfully tight for them both. He had been with women before - in brothels, after battles - but it awoke nothing in him, and the encounters were always brief and utterly disappointing. Now, he had trouble staying hard, and he found her sex vaguely revolting.

Still, he rocked back and forth, willing himself to stay hard, to come, willing it all to be over. He tried to picture Hendric, or one of the others, but it was useless. Soon enough, he felt himself going soft, the act becoming more difficult, and suddenly, impossible. Panic swept over him as he slipped out of her, followed by a pang of shame.

He could not look at her. He stroked his cock again, with the growing intensity and despair of a person rubbing wet sticks together to start a fire. She sensed something amiss, despite her inexperience. He knew it. Again he forced himself inside her, his erection fading hopelessly already. He leant further down, closing the distance between their bellies. She was exceedingly limber and easily bent her legs backward to accommodate him. He knew that what he was giving was a pathetic performance, but still she gave gasps and yelps each time he thrust into her. Her breasts bucked and rolled, which to him seemed comically distracting. He felt despair wash over him as he grew soft. He read the uncertainty in her face and somehow it incensed him. His shame, his fear and his frustration at the betrayal of his body sent his blood cold with anger. His entire body tensed with the insane pressure of the moment, his muscles leaping and bulging furiously, as he fucked her harder, and harder.

"Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!" She gasped, as he slammed into her tiny body with swift, brutal thrusts, his face twisted, snarling. Her cunt seemed to pulse over him, and she crossed her legs involuntarily in pain. He held her ankles, much too hard, and tried desperately to continue, sweat pouring out of him. Her gasps became incoherent, and in his mind he felt her discomfort slowly becoming pleasure as he stretched her and she grew used to the sensation.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes...!"

Each thrust was punctuated with a 'yes', and Lady Gionna seemed genuinely to be enjoying it now. But it was too late. As she closed her legs reflexively, the intensity momentarily becoming too much, he slipped out of her, soft.

"Gods damn it!" he bellowed. He tugged at himself again, and again he pushed past the tightness of her lips, which had now moistened. The going was a little easier, but Varamir felt his frustration and fear swirling up into rage. He leant right over her, her breasts jumping softly inches from his chest, and fucked her furiously. Gionna did her utmost to surrender to him, leaning back and whimpering slightly as he lunged into and out of her. As he felt his cock soften again, he took her by the throat and held her against him, pulling her into his every movement. She gasped, fear dancing in those beautiful brown eyes. Her face grew red as he choked her, his rage rippling through his body, down his arm, into his grip on her.

"Ah! Ah! You're... Hurting..."

She was a storm of emotions, lashing at his mind's periphery. He felt the pain of his incursion, the pleasure of a new sensation, her fear, her excitement, her helplessness. In his mind, he saw himself through her eyes, thrashing fearsomely, and his rage swelled again. He was totally erect, somehow, plunging his entire length inside her. He released her throat, keeping his grip around the back of her neck. He tried to penetrate deeper into her mind, to follow the thread of what he sensed in her. It took an almighty effort to maintain the connection. Again, he saw himself, felt himself fucking her.

The shock wracked him. Somehow, he could feel his own cock plunging into and out of him. He released her in amazement, and slipped free, his member springing wetly out of her.

She took a deep breath, which became a laugh, which became a sigh. But Varamir's rage was not yet sated, his lust only just piqued. He threw back his head a moment, gazing at the ceiling as his perspiration trickled coolly in a thousand tiny rivers. He sucked deep breaths, exhausted and overwhelmed by what he had just experienced. What the fuck was that?

Something animal in him urged him on. He closed his eyes and reached for her mind again, the sensation almost natural now. She was open to him. He gathered her legs tenderly and turned her onto her knees before him. Her cunt glistered wetly, proffered before his cock. It bobbed eagerly, the veins pronounced and throbbing, hot with blood. He took hold of one ample buttock, squeezing it and giving it a sharp slap. She gasped again.

"Please, my lord... do with me as you wish".

From this position, it was easier to imagine her as a man. He contemplated the inviting knot of her ass, but thought better of it. Instead, he slid the head of his cock into her gaping sex, gliding into her until his balls rested against her dripping lips.

"Yes..." she moaned.

He slapped her ass again, harder.

"Yeah?"

"Yes... Yes... Yes..."

They were one, finally, their bodies joining and unjoining, their minds mysteriously linked. He felt sensitive to everything she felt, felt every thrum and rush of pleasure, every stab of pain. His mind was alight with sensation; he knew exactly how to tease, torment and delight her. He felt each thrust - in his own mind, and in hers - each slap, each finger on every curve of skin. It was if, somehow, he were fucking himself, so intensely linked were their minds now. Varamir tried desperately not to concentrate directly on the strangeness of the connection, to hold it as long as possible.

He took hold of her long, long hair and forced her to arch backwards towards him as he fucked her furiously. He felt his pent-up rage and confusion being drained out of him, channeled into their lovemaking. He could sense exactly how rough he could be with her. Exactly how much she could take. Her neck curved backward and her throat exposed, she gave short, breathy sussurations of ecstasy:

"Ah! Ahaha! Ah! Ah! Yes... Ah!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah..." he returned.

He felt his pleasure rising, rising, rising. Then, suddenly, it plateaued. He felt himself spiraling out of their connection, drawn inexorably back to the experience, to the girl who could evoke no lust in him.

He knew what he wanted. Needed.

The thought sent a shiver of excitement through him. Just then, he felt Gionna coming, her cries becoming louder, her cunt spasming atop him, her legs twitching and closing with the torturous advance of orgasm.

"Oh, fuck!" she practically screamed, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

As she flinched in agony and ecstasy, she pulled shut her legs and he slipped out of her, his cock dripping. It came to rest just above the tight dull ring of her asshole. It beckoned him, but he knew she would resist. Nor could he bring himself to raise the subject. Instead, out of curiosity more than anything else, he tried to project the idea into her mind. Their connection had hitherto been one-way, but perhaps its increasing clarity meant he now had greater control over it. He tried to think it into her mind. It was not like speaking, instead it was more like the idea blossomed within her own thoughts.

"My lady..." he began, the head of his cock against her anus.

She understood his request.

"My lord? Do... are you quite sure?"

It was apparent that she knew nothing of intercourse; she did not think to refuse him.

"Yes. Open again." His tone was level: insistent, but gentle.

She did as he bade her, like a flower unfurling at daybreak. She was utterly hairless there, unlike Hendric or most of his other dalliances. She was also incredibly tight. He would have to be exceptionally gentle. Still, she felt relaxed under his touch, acquiescent to his demands, his experience. He touched her sex, clumsily, unpracticed, moistening his fingers. She bucked her hips at the touch, inviting him.

His fingers described slow, sensual rings, spreading her wetness, as if writing his desire in strange circular glyphs. He felt the breath she had been holding ease out of her. Coming to rest on the edge of her asshole, he applied pressure slightly, feeling her sensation vividly in his mind. Testing her, testing himself, he pushed and receded, pushed and receded, easing a fingertip inside her. She tensed, and gave a short bark of discomfort. Her buttocks clenched, and she bent at the waist.

"Ah!" He withdrew. She relaxed again, and again bared herself for him. "I'm sorry, my lord. Please..."

Her submission was delectable. He returned the finger, pressing, prying, but not yet penetrating. As he toyed with her, he felt her settle, relaxing once more.

"Don't stop...please, I want it. I want you. " she spoke softly. Again, he probed with the tip of his middle finger, careful not to catch his nail as he pushed inside her. Her sphincter was impossibly tight, clenching fiercely to the first joint of his finger. He slid the finger back, watching her toes curl in anticipation, and stopped, just before she released him, pushing inward once more. He rested there, allowing her to acclimatize to the strange pressure. Her breath slowed as she calmed.

"More." It was more than sufficient encouragement. He plunged the finger deeper, eliciting a long moan of pleasure. He felt it, too, in his mind, the intense stretching sensation that pulsed and permeated through her body. He buried his entire finger in her ass, slowly retracting it an inch at a time, and again thrusting into her.

"More. Please, more."

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, leaning close to her. As he did so, he increased the force and frequency of his fingering. As he leant closer, the scent of lavender, the oils she had no doubt painstakingly applied that morning, drifted in the warming air. Little beads of sweat had begun to decorate her back, those dark, delicate shoulders.

He withdrew the finger, suddenly. Her asshole gaped momentarily before shrinking again. As deftly as he could, he reached over to the dresser, hoping to grasp at some oil, something to ease his entry. In the dim candlelight, it was difficult to discern which bottles held what, nor was he especially acquainted with such varied toiletries. As she panted, kneeling, he managed to grasp a small vial of oil, neatly stoppered. It smelled citrine. Orange blossom; imported, expensive. Delicately, he daubed his fingers and spread the oily liquid on her backside, working his way gently back to his desire. He felt her quiver at the initial cold touch, but soon the smoothness of the liquid relaxed her once more. With surprising ease, he slipped his finger wholly inside her as she gazed back at him, her mouth open in a silent gasp.

"Oh, Gods... that feels good, " she whimpered. "Harder!"

"My lady," he obeyed, thrusting into and out of her, slipping free and reentering, turning and curling his finger occasionally.

"More," she demanded. He slipped his second finger inside her, and she immediately clenched, folding at the waist and giggling self-consciously. Her eagerness had gotten the better of her. Varamir, his mind linked profoundly with hers, felt every touch, every spasm of pain or pleasure. It was all he could manage not to rush ahead, damn the foreplay. Somehow, Gionna sensed it.

"My lord... I want you. I want you."

"Yes."

His cock jumped and strained, harder than he felt it had ever been before. He lathered the remaining oil over its length, trying to contain the exhilaration that buzzed in his mind. He realized he was feeling both his, and Gionna's nervous excitement. He stepped to the bedside and laid his cock between her full, firm cheeks.

"May I, my lady?"

"Please, my lord. Do it. I want you, now."

He was not long in obliging her. He pushed the bulbous head of his cock, oily, red-hot, into her ass. In his mind, he felt the entry, too. Felt her being stretched once more, the force of his bulging member pushing into her. It was the best of both worlds. She gasped, and he withdrew a little.

"No." He misunderstood, and withdrew further, a little disappointed.

"No," she repeated. Gionna wanted him to push further. He did so, slowly, her ass impossibly tight around him, warm and wet with oil.

"Gods damn it... Fuck!" He felt the strange, alternating waves of pain and pleasure that swept through her, and thrusted deeper again.

"Fuck! Oh! Lord, my lord. Slower. Please."

But he could not be restrained.

"No."

He pushed deeper still, until his balls rested against the wetness of her cunt.

"Ah, ahaha...ah. Fuck." Gionna groaned, uncertainty flashing in her eyes, tears springing at the corners.

Varamir felt his lust rising within him, felt the cock pushing deep into him, felt the excruciating grip of her asshole.

"Slower! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!"

With each thrust, as he plunged deeper inside her, she grunted and whimpered. Mercilessly he defiled her. He felt the delicious pressure, the fullness of his cock, stretching her ass. It was almost impossible to separate his experience from hers; he felt as though it was he, knelt on the bed, being fucked from behind. He looked down at the Khyrrini princess, her wide hips bucking with every savage thrust, her long hair bouncing against her shoulders, her full, perfect ass swallowing his entire cock. He took a fistful of her hair, and she yelped.

Harder and harder, he fucked her, unrelenting despite her cries;

"Please, slower, slower, slower, aaaah, fuck! Oh, damn it, Gods damn it, Gods, Gods, Oh, fuck, oh, fuck!"

From somewhere deep inside him, he felt his orgasm coming. Coming hard. He forced himself all the way inside her, the pleasure washing over his mind, intoxicating, devastating. It was incredible. His head was aflame with two sets of sensory input, every one of hers and every one of his senses screaming with sensation. He channeled her mind, felt himself surging into her, felt the throbbing, pulsing dick inside him, his breasts swaying forward, backward, his nipples grazing the sheets with every thrust...

"Oh, please, oh, oh, oh, ah... ah! Ah! Ah! Plea...please, oh, fuck!" Gionna wailed, forgetting herself. Varamir was dimly aware of feet shifting outside the chamber, no doubt clambering to hear better.

The rush of his seed began, pressure mounting and his cock jumping and throbbing. Gionna began to moan with pleasure, sensing it coming.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, yes, yes, fuck, yes, yes, yes!"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!" was Varamir's urgent reply. Gionna bent her knees, pushed back into him, and away, in sensuous, undulating motions, her ass clapping against his thighs, taking him all the way inside her. He paused, deep inside her, letting her savour the feeling of being filled, savouring it himself. She pressed backward into him, moaning deeply.

"It's coming," he spoke over her shoulder, urgency colouring his voice.

"I want it. Give it to me, my lord. Please, please, please, please, ah, ah!" she trailed off as he resumed thrusting, the ring of her asshole warping and distending with every push. He felt his seed rushing forth and clutched at her ample behind.

"Fuck! Oh, fuck... "

It burst out of him in thick, ropy gouts, his cock jerking with every orgasmic pump. Gionna moaned in ecstasy, feeling it spurting, gushing inside her. He stepped backward, stumbling as stars flooded his vision. His cock, still shooting forth his seed, slipped out of her, sprays and rivulets trailing between the cleft and over her ass. Another, larger cascade flooded from her asshole, dilating and spasming involuntarily.

"Gods, fuck. Oh. Oh, Gods smite me, that was..." His words dissolved into drivel as he steadied himself against her backside.

"My lord," Gionna began, her breath ragged with exertion, "That was... Oh, Gods." She slipped a hand between her legs, feeling the river of his seed, spilling over her unforested terrain, between smooth hills and into the deep valley of her sex.

"My lord, oh, my lord... you make a harlot of me." She regained her composure and rolled gracefully onto one side, deftly grasping a cloth from the night table. She must have remembered where it was, for her eyes never left Varamir.

His head thrown upward to face the Gods he had so loudly and emphatically invoked a moment ago, he panted, feeling the connection between them shrivel and collapse like an enflamed twig. Faintly, he heard her speak to him, as if she were a thousand miles below.

"My lord, excuse me. Perhaps I should wash."

He felt his discomfort, his awkwardness vanish, melted by the intensity, the intimacy of their coupling.

"No," he spoke softly, meeting her gaze. "There is nothing impure in our lovemaking." He wished, then, that it were true, so delicate and beautiful was the smile that bloomed on her face.

"Of course, my lord. Thank you."

"Please. Address me as Varamir. Or whatever you like... we are husband and wife, now."

"Yes, my lo - Varamir. My Varamir."

"Mmm..."

She kissed him, then, long and passionate. Varamir felt suddenly exhausted, totally drained. He pitched forward into the inviting coolness of the bed, turning to land on his back. He felt Gionna adjust herself, shifting gracefully to lie next to him. Both of them lay panting, staring at the starry scene stitched into the canopy of the bed, nude, atop the covers. Just as sleep came rushing down at him, Varamir felt Gionna turn and lay her head on his chest, her hand settling on his stomach. Her breasts swelled softly against his side. He found the small of her back with his hand, clutching her gently.