Trust in Lust Ch. 01

Serana was able to send another of the vampire noble's mistresses crashing against the wall with another lightning bolt. She used her free hand to pick up the fallen blade on the bed and parried the mummified noble's first attack. She switched spells to ice magic and pinned his foot with a large icicle. While her enemy was thrown off balance from the sudden anchor, she closed in and pierced his heart with the dagger. His empty eye sockets flashed a deep pink before the rest of the ancient vampire collapsed into dust. Serana quickly looked to Isran, who had just finished dislodging his hammer from the caved in chest of the last hostile.

He looked up at her. They both scanned the room in the event of more surprises. Sensing the threat was over, their gazes found each other again. Isran's brows were furrowed, his mouth turned downwards in a scowl. Then, suddenly, his steely complexion cracked -- Serana's eyes widened to hear a mirthful chuckle from the Redguard. She then heard her own laughter echo his, and the two stood together in carefree humor.

With the danger passed, Serana's merriment was drifting from her chest back down to the insatiable vacuum of heat in her abdomen. She soon lowered her gaze from Isran's eyes down to his groin. Impressively, he was still hard.

The Dawnguard leader was wise to her change in demeanor; his own lust for battle easily changed winds to carnal desire. When she broke eye contact, he was reminded of his erect member, as well as of the growing heat under his skin. He stepped forward and her stare returned to meet him. He paused momentarily, waiting for her reaction. When she did not move, he continued towards her, dropping his hammer unceremoniously to the floor. He placed one hand against the curve above her rear and, with the other hand, grabbed hold of the back of her head -- pulling her into a deep kiss. She purred at his sudden advances, quite content to allow him to be the one in control.

He flipped her around and shoved her into a bedpost, which Serana clung onto for support as she jutted her rear end out towards him, encouraging him further. His girth returned to fill her, her backside loudly smacking against him. The vampire's nails dug into the wood of the post as Isran pumped in and out of her with mechanical rhythm, pressing her down while yanking her head back by her hair. This roughness was new, but Serana did not care why: she only knew that it felt good. "Yes!" she cried. "Yes! Isran!"

The Redguard grinned at the sound of his name. "You like that?" he rasped. "What would the Dragonborn say if she saw you now? Being taken like a peasant girl?"

The jeers only spiked her ecstasy. Another storm gathered in her womanhood. "I don't care about that elf right now!" she said between the pants and moans. "She can't give me this!"

Isran rammed into her, sinking to his hilt with every thrust. "And who can?" he said. A low wail ached out as a response; she was close. He thrusted again and again. "Who can?" he bellowed.

"Isran! Isran!" she yelled as her walls squeezed around his manhood in her climax. He pulled her face back and rewarded her with a sloppy kiss.

The Redguard let her ride it out and continued at a steady pace. As much as he would have loved to come inside from behind, he needed more of her skin against his to finally extinguish his venereal flame. When her howls died into whimpers, Isran pulled out of her and laid her flat on her back in the middle of the mattress, her legs splayed as an offering to him. Her glazed stare reached him, and for the first time Serana looked truly vulnerable before him. It was cute, almost. He shook the distraction away and positioned himself above her. He rubbed his tip against her opening, then plunged himself into her awaiting channel. Serana's eyes widened and she gasped at his sudden return.

At this new angle, Isran dove deeper into the mewling vampire. He spotted the twinkle of her fangs and without thinking pinned her arms and smothered her lips with his. When her urge to nip and scrape at him was subdued, he removed his hands and they both enveloped the other with their free limbs. He shot his tongue into her mouth, and Serana was more than receptive to the Redguard's sudden offensive. Her abdomen ached for more of his fire, and, by Oblivion, he was giving all that he had to her and then some.

Isran's heart reveled in every motion; his heated frame rubbed against the cold skin of Serana's, her breasts pressed against his chest, and her cool thighs locked around his waist. Together they were in equilibrium.

Serana pulled him closer in, limiting his long thrusts to short, rapid attacks. His base slammed against her bud at an increased pace. She let out a muffled cry into his mouth. His left hand had combed its way through her hair to the back of her head, tugging a fist full of it as he jolted her hips. His other hand pushed against her lower back, lifting her slightly and exposing her sex to accompany the full length of his member. This was what he was waiting for: the vampire was in a prime position to receive the full brunt of his ardor and absorb the rest of this cursed heat.

The vampire was only just recovering from the last climax when she felt the pressure rising in her core. This was it, the big one. The tables had turned since their affair's initiation, now the vampire was subject to the vampire hunter's whims. The sensual context, the aroma of coital juices, the vigorous assault on her raw and defeated womanhood, all of it building towards a tower of an orgasm. The Dawnguard ended their kiss, and her mouth left agape - tongue reaching, unabashedly searching the air for his, the corners of her lips glistening with the sheen of their mixed saliva. "Isran," she croaked, her throat dry and fatigued. "I'm close, so close..."

The hand under her backside now wrapped around her fully, causing their bodies to collide while his hips bucked faster and faster. He buried his face in the nape of her neck, she thought she heard him whisper her name. She brought her hands to his smooth head, massaging it lovingly. "Give it all to me."

He gripped the sheet of the mattress and a bestial growl erupted from his chest as he came inside her, rutting away at her swollen sex like a savage animal. His whole weight struck her, the bed threatened to snap under their wild copulation. She screamed and joined him in orgasm, a massive surf of shocks flooding her essence as she drained him to completion. A buzzing rang in her ears, the ache in her core transformed and flowered into a total numbness of the senses. Her eyes looked towards the ceiling, but she did not see it. The fluids and the heat seeped inside of her, causing her toes to curl and forehead to crease in response to the overwhelming ecstasy. She was finally filled, finally fed with the warmth her body so desired.

Isran shuddered as the final fumes of his supernatural lust faded away, into the relieving coolness of the woman beneath him. His manhood softened, and he withdrew from her opening with a long and audible exhale, his member dripping with the combination of their fluids.

They reclined on opposite ends of the bed, Isran recovering his breath while Serana massaged her clit to extract the last echoes of her orgasm. He watched her, absorbing the lewd display and the glistening paleness of her skin. She smiled weakly, crawled towards him, then slumped against his torso, her head resting on his shoulder. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her closeness sucking away the last of his fire. As the fog of lust dissipated, he was reminded of the amulet left unceremoniously on the floor. It seemed to glow with the carnal energy imbued by the trickster god. Serana followed his gaze. "Hmmm, what to do with that?"

"It needs to be destroyed."

The vampire's lips slanted. "Even if we could, it was created by a Deadric Prince. Destroying it might have disastrous repercussions. With Clavicus Vile involved, I'd say it's twice as likely."

Isran couldn't bear to look at the artifact any longer, he turned back to Serana. "Then what do we do? Leave it here, seal off the cavern? That's too much risk."

Serana searched around the cluttered tomb. She heaved her tired body off the bed and picked up a blade from one of the mummified corpses. Carefully, she slid the chain of the amulet onto the edge of the weapon, then brought the cursed jewelry to an array of burial urns in a small alcove behind the derelict throne. With dexterity that impressed her companion, the vampire lifted the top of an urn and dropped the Daedric artifact inside, then quickly returned the lid. She picked up the urn and held it for a few silent moments. Isran watched with held breath, partly dreading the chance of her idea failing, and partly looking forward to it.

She turned around with a relieved expression, even shaking the container to prove they were in the clear. Isran released the air in his lungs and blinked in disbelief. Serana read his expression and admitted to herself sharing the sentiment. But there was no time to linger.

"I know a place to hide it, where only a handful of individuals in existence has set foot in and returned, me included." She wanted to smile and demonstrate confidence, but it came out as a grimace.

"What's wrong?" Isran asked.

She sighed. "It's just that I'll need to ask my mother's help, and I know she won't be thrilled when I walk in with this thing and tell her where I need to go. I still haven't seen her since...well..."

Normally, Isran would have jumped at the opportunity to make a disparaging remark or snide taunt at the vampire's troubles. However, he found himself restraining the impulse, and simply nodded his head in acknowledgment.

"That Soul Cairn place, then," he concluded. He vaguely recalled the Dragonborn's description when she and Serana had returned with another Elder Scroll. "That's pragmatic, good decision."

Serana raised a playful eyebrow. "Oh?" She huffed in mock haughtiness. "The great Isran finally trusting a lowly creature of the night? I'm honored."

Even with the effects of the amulet waning by the second, the vampire radiated lascivious beauty. Had he lived a different life, the Redguard wouldn't have needed the Daedra-powered corruption to succumb to desire.He snorted and looked away. "Don't take it for granted," he grumbled.

Her face softened. "I'm more curious than anything. Did I earn it before or after we touched the amulet?"

He continued staring at the floor. "When you zapped that cretin about to gut me from behind. Impressive, considering the state you were in at the time. Appreciated all the same."

"Oh." Serana's eyes widened. "Ah, thank you. Or, you're welcome?"

He only grunted in response, eager not to linger on the subject. Isran then rose from the bed, collected his clothes, and began to dress. "Let's make sure to seal this place off anyways, just to cover our tracks."

"Seems overly cautious, even for you," she replied while gathering her own garments.

He eyed her as she clothed herself and sighed. "You want others to find out what happened to the amulet? Or anything else that might have happened here?"

She slid her leg into a boot, then stood upright with her arms crossed. "Anything particular to which you're referring? Something you are ashamed of, perhaps?"

The Redguard did not respond immediately. She read the contemplation on his face that betrayed the disputation within. He finished fastening the jerkin on his torso and turned to her. "You won't hear me deny what we did, and you won't hear me deny that we both enjoyed it. But the two of us have expectations at home, it's best we keep the details to ourselves."

Home. The vampire almost said the word aloud. She thought her accommodation at Fort Dawnguard was temporary at best. She had no belongings or personal lodgings there, not even a rolled-out mat on the floor. She had already slept more than several lifetimes in Dimhollow Crypt before the Dragonborn found her, so she never had need of a bed (nor coffin, but she was not as theatrical as other vampires). However, the fact remained that nothing in the fortress was designated as her own, and so Serana believed that the vampire hunters expected her tenure among them to be short-lived.

"So," she started, but trailed off when Isran made eye contact.

"Hmm?"

She looked away and donned her red tunic over her head. "What I mean is, I agree, but...well, you're saying I can stay?"

He squinted quizzically. "With the Dawnguard?"

She glanced back, then resumed fitting her leather cuirass.

Isran, scratching his face, shrugged. "You can forget what I said before. After you've taken care of that thing, you'll still be welcome with us. There won't be a chest with your name on it or anything, but I'll see to it you at least have a bed. You've gained my trust today, anybody that makes noise about it will answer to me."

She smiled to herself; relief washed over her shoulders. "I take it you're not coming with me to ensure I hold my end of the deal?"

"Like I said," he responded, now fully dressed, and kicked the heel of his boot against the floor. He grabbed his hammer, and, weighing what strength was left in his arms, swung it low towards the body of the twice-undead vampire lord, shattering its head into dusty pieces. "Now let's get out of this fucking place."

They exited the moldering ruins and together collapsed the entryway, as well as burned the remains of the camp and the slain foes that remained, and with them the writings and journals that set the course of their adulterated adventure. After an overnight rest at the Frostfruit Inn in Rorikstead, the pair went their separate ways: the vampire to the north, and the vampire hunter to the southeast. Serana wished Isran an uneventful journey back to Fort Dawnguard. The Redguard laughed and gave her a "good luck" towards reuniting with her mother. Coy, but genuine all the same. In any case, it caused the vampire to smile back. She knew neither of them were ready to consider their association as a newfound friendship, but at the very least they parted that morning as friendly and familiar acquaintances.

Serana convinced her mother to reopen the path to the Soul Cairn, where she then hid the artifact and the urn which it resided in deep within one of the decrepit towers that dotted that plane of Oblivion. Valerica was quick to acquiesce once she realized her daughter truly recovered the cursed amulet, and learning of Clavicus Vile's involvement only hastened her determination to rid Tamriel of the repulsive relic. Though her mother offered Serana to reside with her in her wing of Castle Volkihar, the wounds of their relationship were still too fresh to heal. Serana thanked her mother, promising one day she would return and plant a new garden with her.

Isran's welcome back at Fort Dawnguard was awash with mead and fragranced with roasted meat and spiced desserts. His comrades were glad to see him back alive and, better yet, alone. Some of the vampire hunters' moods soured upon learning of their leader's stamp of good faith on their vampiric guest, but none dared to object openly. He regaled them with the recounting of his and Serana's skirmish against the would-be excavators of the verifiably real amulet. While choice moments of his experience were left undetailed, the feast room went into uproar at the unexpected battle against the husks of the vampire lord and his concubines, and the quick instincts of Serana were met with the nodding of heads and pounding of fists on the tables. The Dawnguard seemed to care as little for the artifact itself as Isran initially had been, and they made no fuss at the mention of its pending fate in the Soul Cairn. What drew his fellow hunters' attention was the expectation that Serana would be considered an ancillary member among their ranks, and that they were to prepare for her arrival -- a place to sleep at a minimum, paid for by the certitude of Isran himself.

After a few weeks, Serana stood in front of the great wooden doors of Fort Dawnguard. No longer a cold hostelry that bound her until the achievement of a shared goal, the stone fortress now breathed a warmth onto her as the entrance opened. Inside were the comforting tethers of someone she could trust. Fort Dawnguard was filled with men and mer trained to kill her kind, with weapons and beasts honed to hunt those that stalked the night, and it housed a stubborn Redguard who seemed to hold one purpose in life. But to Serana, it was also home.