The rain tapped nonstop at the palace, like an impatient kindergartener waiting for their Legos; thunder clapped angrily, scaring the clouds to release more tapping liquid. Tap, tap, tap. It was easy to get lost with the sight of the smokey clouds, how they got impaled by the snowy peaks of Kyrat's surrounding mountains— it looked so chaotic, yet peaceful at the same time, like the souls of many citizens living in the war-torn country.
"It's monsoon season." Yuma observed idly, finally prying her eyes away from the window and towards a sitting king, reading unimportant documents. Of course, said-king wasn't a king at all, but a short-haired queen.
The blonde wore a pajamas t-shirt and panties that complimented her curves, curves that were normally hidden to give everyone the impression that she was a man. It confused Yuma, how everyone they've ever met believed that Kyrat's dictator was of the male gender— it should've been obvious with her feminine cheekbones and hands, her sweet pointed fingers that poisoned any man who knew of her secret.
"Are you alright, Yuma?" Pagan's chestnut eyes left the white papers for a short moment, before trailing back.
Yuma scoffed, giving her adoptive-sibling a suggestive side-glance. "Why don't you tell them Pagan?" She stomped towards the desk where the queen sat, slamming her palms on the smooth wood. "At least tell Noore or De Pleur-"
"I've told you once and I'll tell you again, Ms. Lau," Pagan gave her a familiar, but rare death-glare as she unconsciously crushed the papers in her hands, "I'll tell them when they're ready. Why do you continue to start these things out of the blue?"
Yuma took a shaky breath, calming herself down. The air was thick between the two, the two were still in their respective positions before the storm that brewed inside the ravenette released its stifled, but unforgiving lightning.
"Nǐ shì yīgè báichī, yì jiàotú! Tāmen yǒngyuǎn bù huì zhǔnbèi hǎo!" Yuma yelled, ignoring the current time and who in the palace she may disturb with her shouting. She was rewarded with another icy scowl, her sibling putting the documents she held dear in her grasp was slipped in a sitting folder at the corner of the desk; chestnut eyes met chocolate in a silent dispute about the fate of this private matter, Pagan refused to speak about it, a confidential government secret. Their faces came dangerously close to each other. Yuma was unaware that she had started to hold the queen's chin, tilting it towards her, so that the older woman's lips were parallel to her own.
"What do you think you're-" Pagan's velvety voice was smothered by her adopted-sister's commanding lips— cold as her heart was, the ravennete's warmth encaptured the bleach-blonde in a cage of incestral lust. It took a moment for the Yuma to realize exactly what she was doing and for her to pull back, dissolved in an uncommon embarrassed state, one that her higher-up would consider endearing. On normal occasions, the general would be confident in her risqué advances, there wouldn't be a trace of hesitation as she would ravish her chosen love interest like a tiger would their trapped prey; but this, this was different. Yuma wasn't sure if this was supposed to be a way of persuading her sister, or an act that she truly desired.
The woman who stood before her, a deer in the headlights, was her family— the one who stood beside Yuma at her parent's grave sights and said with pure joy, "Now that they're dead, you can finally sleep over!" At the time, the young Lau believed the older child was going to be a future lover, or father figure, but, of course, she was completely oblivious to what hid under 'his' thick jacket.
The tyrant covered her now wet lips, they screamed for more contact, for another human's tongue to lubricate them with their saliva. Nobody had touched her in such a delicate manner for a while, more then twenty years for sure, and most of it, Ishwari's scared attempts at trying to pleasure the woman whom her husband violated and impregnated. "Why?" Internal panick restricted Pagan from saying anything more, Yuma fearing the punishment for kissing Kyrat's sovereign without permission as silence choked the air.
"Your age is gonna bite you in the ass if you don't tell anybody." The other woman finally said, wrapping her hands around Pagan's waist. The raven's embarrassment was flushed from body, like someone had pulled a lever, she was back to being her old, Demon of Durgesh self. The words surprised even her, but a voice in her head urged for her to continue. "I don't want that to happen… it would be a shame if somebody other than yourself had to tell everyone, no?"
"It's just a suggestion, my queen." Yuma's hand trailed towards the other woman's derrière, testing the waters by squeezing gently, eliciting a breathy whimper from Pagan. The latter groaned softly, getting trapped once again by her right-hand's warmth. An aggressive tongue lapped starvingly at her lips, and Pagan, not knowing what else to do, welcomed it into her mouth. Yuma walked the older female back towards the wall —refusing to release her lips—pinning her and rubbing her knee against Pagan's thinly-clothed sex, eliciting a surprised gasp that interrupted the heated kiss.
"Yuma, they'll catch us." The blonde began pushing away her tenacious lover, only to be met with the sharp, but pleasurable, pain of a nip at her nape. It was the best argument the general had for instigating the act of having intercourse with her sister, and it seemed to work for the most part as she felt Pagan's wetness drip onto her messaging knee. Hands drifted down into the fine material of the monarch's panties, forcefully ripping them without warning, rendering the woman half-naked and completely powerless to her adopted-sibling's influence.
Yuma's finger gently teased Pagan's clit, slickening the digit with her juices. The finger's victim began to slide weakly to the ground, her knees buckling with the wave of pleasure ripping through her body as her clitoris was pushed and rubbed at. The Demon of Durgesh decided to follow her to the ground, moving her hands away, and leaving Pagan a panting puddle on the ground. "You g-get straight to the point don't you, Yuma?" Pagan said in between quick breaths, pulling the other woman's face close to hers; heated breath trailed down towards her muff, where the commander placed a spine-shivering nip on Pagan's inner thigh.
Long, olive fingers reached to open the blonde's legs more, receiving no other protest other than stifled whimpers and yelps. Yuma's tongue slithered from her mouth, trailing a long, shiny line of saliva in its wake as it traveled towards the lips of Pagan's vagina. The latter clawed at the office's wooden floor, a wild animal looking for her release; a release that was quickly given to her. Yuma licked and sucked at the queen's labia, teasing her inner walls with her tongue. The room rang with the filthy sounds of groans and whimpers as the older woman was explored further; every part of her shivered with pleasure that hasn't been felt for many long, pent-up years, the ravenette's hands and tongue granting her gratification that should be sung by their drunken descendants.
"Y-uma–!" Pagan's moan rung throughout her palace, her general finally pushing her over the edge. Her body spasmed with an orgasmic high, honey-sweet fluid dripping from her and onto Yuma's hands and even face. Without hesitation, the younger woman lapped up the liquid, ignoring the constant apologies coming from Pagan; she made a show out of licking the moisture from her hands, Pagan's words slowly dissolving into petty whimpers.
"Absolutely delicious." Yuma purred, now focusing her attention on those soft, kiss-swollen lips. She leaned forward, still in between long legs, and tilted the queen's chin towards her. "Taste for yourself."