Aelendil
01-13-2006, 05:26 PM
((Rhowen's character used with her permission. NC-17 for sexual situations, however romantic. Just warnin' ya!))
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, a faint tremor in her voice that only lended a delicate poignancy to the query, to Aelendil's thinking.
Rhowen stood poised at the edge of the river, velvet green dress shed to her shoulders, casting a glance back at Aelendil that could easily be called coy. She arched a brow with a bit more temerity in response to his awe-struck silence, letting the dress fall after a moment's pause; to Ael's eyes, the moonlight softened the hard muscles and battle scarred skin into something soft and quicksilver exotic, setting his heart racing and sending a rush of blood to the extremities of his body.
Before he could blink, she favored him with a mischievious tease of a smirk, diving headlong in one fluid, noiseless stroke beneath the lazy current. Aelendil was left to hastily shrug his robes from his form, swearing colorfully to answering laughter and quiet splashing from the river.
He breathed a gentle sigh as he slid from the embankment into the river. The water itself was cool but pleasant against his skin as he hastened to pursue his beloved, his hair pooling about him in a silver mimicry of the nearby waterfall that played a singsong backdrop to the various sounds of the sylvan night.
However, as the young priest waded into the water, moss and pebbles beneath his feet, the warrior-maid dipped beneath the surface and out of sight. Ael spun tightly in a circle, water up to his waist, but to no avail. He did not notice her until he felt her hands sliding sinuously over his chest from behind, breasts pressed warmly to his back. She bit down firmly on his shoulder with a pleased, mirthful laugh, to which Aelendil responded with an ill-repressed shiver that had nothing to do with being cold.
"You're far too beautiful, Silversong, even with your mouth agape." Rhowen's words were a rush of heat, a touch of lips to the cusp of his ear. With a flick of her tongue, she dispelled any illusion of his composure, sending him into throes of writhing shudders. Aelendil's thoughts immediately clouded, lost in a quaking haze of half-lidded eyes and parted lips, eliciting a satisfied chuckle from the night elf woman.
But it would be Rhowen's turn to lose all pretense of focus in the next moment, for Aelendil turned to face her, pressing his lips to her own with a graceful, empassioned ferocity. After an initial moment of shock, she felt her eyes drift closed, melting into the most enthusiastic, expert -- and aggressive -- kiss that the young priest had ever given her.
When he broke the kiss off, she nearly slid beneath the water, and probably would have too had he not slid his hands round to cup her to to him by her buttocks. A slow, sensuous grind of hips to hips brought a gasp to Rhowen's lips, hastily amended with a rather weak thump of her fist upon Ael's chest. She did her best to give a protesting exclamation, though it fell far short of carrying the weight of anger that she might have desired:"You bloody oaf! You'll drown me like that!"
But the young kaldorei priest just grinned, droplets of water dripping from his fair, angular features.
At a second thought, he soon schooled his face into a playful attempt at guilt, the sly flashing of his vibrantly blue eyes doing much to betray the image.
"We can't have that, now can we?" he purred.
Not one to be shown up, Rho's hands drifted tantalizingly slow down Ael's chest, disappearing beneath the water line and making her lover's eyes go wide. She smirked once more.
"...No, love, we can't have that..."
Ael strained to succeed in uttering a husky -- breathless -- plea, nearly a whimper, "Not.. in the water..kestrel.."
Rhowen's smirk widened and she nodded her assent, taking one step backward at a time, her clever fingers rewarding Ael with each anxious step forward and threatening to render his legs useless. He was lightheaded and the water didn't seem quite so cool anymore.
They reached the edge of the river where, by Elune's good grace, a mossy grotto had formed between two oversized roots. She turned away from him an instant, to hoist herself over the lip of the bank.
Aelendil grabbed hold of her waist and held her there, turned slightly toward him, as he nibbled his way up her inner thighs until it was her turn to gasp. Her fingers tensed and untensed fitfully in his hair, keeping time with her breathing.
Between ragged breaths, Rho managed to tug forcefully on the preoccupied priest's hair, giving a desperately needful order of, "Get up here, now!" There was no mistaking the urgency in her voice and Aelendil couldn't have pretended to ignore it had he wanted to.
Aelendil hastened to oblige and in moments the two lovers were entwined, laughing and tumbling into the natural bed of moss. They touched and nibbled, let kisses fall where they would, reveling in a playful proximity before lust overwhelmed them both.
By some feat of fighting experience, Rhowen pinned Aelendil to the ground, grinning wickedly down at him with her eyes locked upon his. She lowered herself down toward him at a torturously slow pace, her breasts rising and falling at a labored pace of anticipation.
Ael arched to meet her, his hands full with her breasts, catching her by surprise. Rho cried out and drove herself down upon him. Together, they let out coinciding gasps of mingled pleasure, joined at the hips. She rocked against him in a fervent press, their bodies rippling in a mirrored symmetry that would only increase in tempo and cadence with each ragged breath.
She brought him to the edge of climax, again and again, building the feverous pitch of passion to a greater intensity each time, until each heartbeat rang palpably, overwhelming his senses, unable to laste through another rhythmic-
Then she quaked and shuddered against him, hands raking the surface of his rapidly rising and falling chest, and together they reached the pinnacle, blissful euphoria on wing.
"Gods above.." he whispered hoarsely, when they were both left panting and sweating, entangled in a lovely disarray of limbs. At his words, Rhowen nodded mutely, trailing a manicured nail in a long line over his collarbone. After a gentle sigh, only faintly laden with exhaustion, she raised gray eyes to his and smirked playfully, leaning forward on his chest to lay a deceivingly chaste kiss upon his lips. With her lips brushing hotly against his with each word, she murmurred a quiet question: "So.. Again?"
All Aelendil could do was marvel at how much he loved this woman.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked, a faint tremor in her voice that only lended a delicate poignancy to the query, to Aelendil's thinking.
Rhowen stood poised at the edge of the river, velvet green dress shed to her shoulders, casting a glance back at Aelendil that could easily be called coy. She arched a brow with a bit more temerity in response to his awe-struck silence, letting the dress fall after a moment's pause; to Ael's eyes, the moonlight softened the hard muscles and battle scarred skin into something soft and quicksilver exotic, setting his heart racing and sending a rush of blood to the extremities of his body.
Before he could blink, she favored him with a mischievious tease of a smirk, diving headlong in one fluid, noiseless stroke beneath the lazy current. Aelendil was left to hastily shrug his robes from his form, swearing colorfully to answering laughter and quiet splashing from the river.
He breathed a gentle sigh as he slid from the embankment into the river. The water itself was cool but pleasant against his skin as he hastened to pursue his beloved, his hair pooling about him in a silver mimicry of the nearby waterfall that played a singsong backdrop to the various sounds of the sylvan night.
However, as the young priest waded into the water, moss and pebbles beneath his feet, the warrior-maid dipped beneath the surface and out of sight. Ael spun tightly in a circle, water up to his waist, but to no avail. He did not notice her until he felt her hands sliding sinuously over his chest from behind, breasts pressed warmly to his back. She bit down firmly on his shoulder with a pleased, mirthful laugh, to which Aelendil responded with an ill-repressed shiver that had nothing to do with being cold.
"You're far too beautiful, Silversong, even with your mouth agape." Rhowen's words were a rush of heat, a touch of lips to the cusp of his ear. With a flick of her tongue, she dispelled any illusion of his composure, sending him into throes of writhing shudders. Aelendil's thoughts immediately clouded, lost in a quaking haze of half-lidded eyes and parted lips, eliciting a satisfied chuckle from the night elf woman.
But it would be Rhowen's turn to lose all pretense of focus in the next moment, for Aelendil turned to face her, pressing his lips to her own with a graceful, empassioned ferocity. After an initial moment of shock, she felt her eyes drift closed, melting into the most enthusiastic, expert -- and aggressive -- kiss that the young priest had ever given her.
When he broke the kiss off, she nearly slid beneath the water, and probably would have too had he not slid his hands round to cup her to to him by her buttocks. A slow, sensuous grind of hips to hips brought a gasp to Rhowen's lips, hastily amended with a rather weak thump of her fist upon Ael's chest. She did her best to give a protesting exclamation, though it fell far short of carrying the weight of anger that she might have desired:"You bloody oaf! You'll drown me like that!"
But the young kaldorei priest just grinned, droplets of water dripping from his fair, angular features.
At a second thought, he soon schooled his face into a playful attempt at guilt, the sly flashing of his vibrantly blue eyes doing much to betray the image.
"We can't have that, now can we?" he purred.
Not one to be shown up, Rho's hands drifted tantalizingly slow down Ael's chest, disappearing beneath the water line and making her lover's eyes go wide. She smirked once more.
"...No, love, we can't have that..."
Ael strained to succeed in uttering a husky -- breathless -- plea, nearly a whimper, "Not.. in the water..kestrel.."
Rhowen's smirk widened and she nodded her assent, taking one step backward at a time, her clever fingers rewarding Ael with each anxious step forward and threatening to render his legs useless. He was lightheaded and the water didn't seem quite so cool anymore.
They reached the edge of the river where, by Elune's good grace, a mossy grotto had formed between two oversized roots. She turned away from him an instant, to hoist herself over the lip of the bank.
Aelendil grabbed hold of her waist and held her there, turned slightly toward him, as he nibbled his way up her inner thighs until it was her turn to gasp. Her fingers tensed and untensed fitfully in his hair, keeping time with her breathing.
Between ragged breaths, Rho managed to tug forcefully on the preoccupied priest's hair, giving a desperately needful order of, "Get up here, now!" There was no mistaking the urgency in her voice and Aelendil couldn't have pretended to ignore it had he wanted to.
Aelendil hastened to oblige and in moments the two lovers were entwined, laughing and tumbling into the natural bed of moss. They touched and nibbled, let kisses fall where they would, reveling in a playful proximity before lust overwhelmed them both.
By some feat of fighting experience, Rhowen pinned Aelendil to the ground, grinning wickedly down at him with her eyes locked upon his. She lowered herself down toward him at a torturously slow pace, her breasts rising and falling at a labored pace of anticipation.
Ael arched to meet her, his hands full with her breasts, catching her by surprise. Rho cried out and drove herself down upon him. Together, they let out coinciding gasps of mingled pleasure, joined at the hips. She rocked against him in a fervent press, their bodies rippling in a mirrored symmetry that would only increase in tempo and cadence with each ragged breath.
She brought him to the edge of climax, again and again, building the feverous pitch of passion to a greater intensity each time, until each heartbeat rang palpably, overwhelming his senses, unable to laste through another rhythmic-
Then she quaked and shuddered against him, hands raking the surface of his rapidly rising and falling chest, and together they reached the pinnacle, blissful euphoria on wing.
"Gods above.." he whispered hoarsely, when they were both left panting and sweating, entangled in a lovely disarray of limbs. At his words, Rhowen nodded mutely, trailing a manicured nail in a long line over his collarbone. After a gentle sigh, only faintly laden with exhaustion, she raised gray eyes to his and smirked playfully, leaning forward on his chest to lay a deceivingly chaste kiss upon his lips. With her lips brushing hotly against his with each word, she murmurred a quiet question: "So.. Again?"
All Aelendil could do was marvel at how much he loved this woman.