Sundered Isles 01: Drog and Cember

"If I hurt you then we should stop."

"Drog, will you stop being so nice for a second. It's pissing me off. Just hold still while I..." slowly I shifted my hips, feeling him just barely move inside me.

"Gods, Cember. You are so tight."

I placed a hand his lips to shush him while I concentrated. Another small squeeze. Less pain this time.

Again.

It was still not pleasurable, but at least it was bearable.

I took his hips again and guided them in slow, shallow thrusts.

"Oh, Cember," his voice was hot in my ear. Confidence thrilled through me.

Slowly I released him, he lifted his head and scrutinized me closely. He thrust deeper and faster when he saw I was comfortable, and slowed when he saw tension in my eyes. Soon we found a comfortable rhythm and I began to enjoy the sensation of Drog deep inside me. I felt the ownership over him I had lusted after for weeks now.

"Are you close? " I asked.

"Are you?

I gave a little laugh, "I don't think it's going to happen for me this time, big guy. This is for you."

He growled, "Unacceptable."

I stroked his cheek lovingly, "Relax, it feels wonderful. I just don't think I am going to climax like this. Not on my first time."

"Hmph!" He muttered, "Do you trust me?"

I narrowed my eyes at him in response. "Do you have to ask that question? Do you think I would let any other man put even an inch of himself inside me before I put six inches of steel inside him?"

He cleared his throat, "Okay then, bear with me." He pulled out of me and I cried out at the sudden cold absence of him. Then he took my hips and helped me to roll over onto my stomach.

I looked back over my shoulder at him, "Are you just doing this to get a better look at my ass?"

He winked, "That is merely an added benefit," He then raised my bottom up so that I was on my knees. I felt very exposed, but was intrigued enough to let him continue. He ran a rough palm over my smooth cheek.

"I love every part of you, Cember. You are beautiful inside and out."

"Gods, you can stop already, Drog. You have me," I teased, secretly loving his constant boyish wonderment over me.

He rose briefly and stepped out of his britches, before kneeling again. He raised himself up and lined his shaft up with my entrance. He pushed in more smoothly this time, but there was still a twinge of pain as my body reaccommodated itself to him. Still, I had missed him in that brief interlude, and it felt wonderful to feel him occupy me again.

"Are you sure this is for my benefit, Drog? I feel like you are seeing all of me and I am seeing, well, a blanket. Don't get me wrong, it's a nice blanket, but I think we are destined to just be friends."

"Has anyone ever told you that you talk too much during sex?"

"No, Drog."

He smiled at his little joke, clearly enjoying the knowledge that he was my first.

I started another witty reply to him when I felt his fingers sliding across my belly, over my soft curls and into my dampened crevice. My breath caught and my brain erased whatever it was about to say next.

The dull ache where he filled me to bursting seemed to fade into the background along with the sounds of the grazing oxen and babbling river. All of my earthly perceptions were now concentrated in the areas where Drog and I were in physical contact.

He stirred in me again. Wantonly, I spread my knees, lowering myself so that he could slide in more easily. I was beginning to really enjoy myself. I still doubted that I could reach a climax like this, but it was certainly something I would like to explore with Drog again and again until we had perfected it.

Once more Drog showed me a deeper knowledge of my own body than even I had. His fingers found my hardened little centre with casual ease. He began to flick it, slowly at first, but with increasing speed. He maintained a slow and steady thrusting rhythm into me. I marvelled at how he could stand it. If what I felt was anything to go by he should have lost all control by now and been pounding into me.

He found that chord again, the one connected to my core, which thrummed so exquisitely when he plucked it. Soon the reverberations were so fast on top of each other that it was in constant vibration. I wanted to cry out when I realised I was about to climax again.

"Oh, Drog," I moaned, feeling my edges begin to unravel.

"Come for me, Cember. I am right behind you." For some reason his unintentional double meaning made me want to laugh maniacally, but then it might have been related to the overwhelming joy exploding within me.

As his fingers played out their final crescendo I cried out hoarsely. I felt my muscles turn first to rigid stone, before liquefying and rippling with muscular spasms as I peaked out at another Earth trembling orgasm.

Drog was as good as his word, and no sooner had my body begun to vacillate around him, than I yelped as I felt a scorching line of heat erupt inside me. It must the sighting bolt fired before the volley of a regiment, because after it came pulse after pulse of wonderfully hot liquid to fill me. Drog let out the same bellow that, earlier this morning, had ended in the death of five men. It held all the same challenge and ferocious triumph, but carried with it the echo of tenderness.

I felt tears hot in my eyes again, but this time they were filled with pride and satisfaction. I felt complete for the first time in that moment, my body and soul merged with Drog's in that shared ecstasy.

Drog lay down atop me, gasping in deep lungfuls of air. I could feel the random little shudders that still passed through his body. He had clearly forgotten our size difference, and my weakness after two explosive orgasms, because I collapsed under his weight. Still inside me and unbalanced, he fell too, covering me completely with his body and driving the air from my lungs.

Hastily he rose off me, sliding out with frictionless ease from my dripping entrance, asking, "Gods, Cember, are you alright?"

He must grown impatient staring down at my shaking little body, because he firmly gripped my shoulder and rolled me over to see that I was convulsing with silent laughter, and unable to answer him. He gave me a sheepish smile asking, after I had started to calm down, "Seriously, are you okay?" I knew he meant from more than just the fall.

I wiped at a tear and placed my other hand on the lean muscles just above his groin, "Drog," There was still laughter in my voice, "I have never been more okay. Thank you. That was the greatest experience of my life so far."

"Really?" There was that boyish grin again for my praise.

"Come here," I sat up and pulled at his shoulders. He followed me down again for a slow, languid kiss. As we grew restful we slowed and finally stopped, but we kept our bodies pressed as close together as we could.

Finally, feeling exhaustion steal over me, I turned, and snuggled backwards into him. Massive arms encased me completely and I drifted off peacefully, feeling fulfilled beyond expectation and utterly safe.

We awoke later in the morning, refreshed and hungry. We had plenty of stored food and ate a hearty meal. We spent the rest of the day going through the supplies and deciding what we could take with us. We took time, more than once, to again seek out that furnace like intimacy with each other. Although, Drog refused, despite my shameless begging, to enter me again.

"You will be sore tomorrow," He argued, "And I want you strong again as quickly as possible for what I have planned."

I grinned at him wickedly, "Oh, you have plans for me now do you?"

"I do, and only for you." He held me fiercely then, practically squeezing the air out of me, "I am afraid you might be stuck with me for good now, Cember."

I tried to squeeze him back, but it was pathetic in comparison, "Big guy, if you ever tried to leave me I would make you wish you hadn't."

We passed the day peacefully, hardly talking, but hardly needing to. Drog returned to the main camp without me to fetch my stuff, and saw to the burying of the bodies. I was glad I did not have to see again the after effects of that terrible power that still lurked inside him.

He returned, grim-faced a couple of hours later. His mood eventually lightened as the evening passed. After dinner we wrapped up in each other's warmth, exploring the still fresh and exciting aspects of each other's bodies until sleep once more overcame us.

I awoke before Drog the next morning and decided to surprise him with some fresh caff that I had discovered in the supplies I had been organizing while he dealt with the bodies at camp.

I took the pot down to the river. Once at the water's edge I stole behind some rocks to relieve myself, and that was where I encountered Clem.

Clearly he had been waiting for me, and had savage vengeance on his mind. His manic, toothsome smile spoke more of rage than pleasure. I had no sooner risen from my squat and pulled up my britches than I caught the glint of first morning light on a knife blade.

"You are going to pay a terrible price for what that beast of yours did to my boys."

I glared at him.

"Ain't you going to try and scream?" He leveled the blade at my throat, "I want to see if you can get a sound out before I cut you open."

I remained motionless.

"You think that animal you let inside your little whore cunny is going to save you? You'll be dead before he is even on his feet. He might be strong, but he is no runner. I'll be halfway to Hydora before he even finds your little slut corpse."

He spat on the ground, "What, you got no final words?"

I smiled then and I saw his expression of confidence flicker and instant.

He committed the third grievous error of assumption on this accursed caravan trip. He assumed that, because I was small and physically weak, I needed Drog's protection. He assumed that, because his men got the drop on me while I was sleeping and stripped me of my knives, that I could not defend myself. His assumption, like those made by Sage and his guards, cost him his life.

If he tracked the flick of my wrist it was the last thing he saw. Out of his right eye, for certain, because that is where my first blade sank home. His jaw opened in slack horror as, for the instant of life that was left to him, he became aware of his gross misjudgement.

I stepped forward and inserted the incredibly sharp second blade between his ribs and into his heart. Just a prick from it was enough to puncture the galloping muscle irrevocably and let his life force spurt out into his heaving chest cavity.

Then, holding tight to one blade in each hand, I shoved him away with one booted foot. He fell backwards into the shallows of the river, a stunned expression still fixed on his face.

I still had to drag him out a few meters until I felt the current pulling on him. Then I pushed him out and watched him spin out slowly toward the faster flowing water. I washed my blades, filled the pot, and returned to camp, feeling unmoved by the experience. Clem was just another bug I had crushed under my boot heel.

Drog was awake and sitting up in the blankets we had shared when I got back. I placed the pot on the fire I had kicked to life after I had first arisen, and set about quietly brewing the caff. Drog's eyes surveyed me keenly as I poked the fire with a stick.

"Your britches," he said, questioningly, "they're wet. Is everything okay?"

I looked up and gave him my warmest smile, the one that I would forever reserve only for him. "It's nothing," I said, "I just stepped in something nasty and had to let the river wash it away."

He raised one heavy brow, and then let it go. "So," he asked, "Where do go from here?"

I kept the smile on my face, I anticipated it would be difficult to get rid of now that I could contemplate the life with Drog I saw stretched out before us. "To Hydora, Master Mender." I said, "We have a caravan to deliver, some sad news to impart, and the promising career of a young merchant to begin. A career that would not be possible without the support of her extremely handsome partner and lover. Are you with me?"

"Always Cember. Always." He answered.