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Flicker and Flame

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Fox was under the spell of romance. He had been grinning like a fool since he carried Ela to their tent. Part of the tent was open for a little air, and that meant the planned activities for the night would be out for anyone to see, but Ela didn’t suspect anyone would see them, or at least that’s what she hoped. And in the off chance that someone did, well. At least they would have a good show. Tanithil, meanwhile, was asleep off to the side. Smarter than many people were, Tanithil caught from their demeanor and general insatiableness for one another that disturbing them tonight was a bad idea. Wisely, the cat remained asleep.

The lamplight held a dim glow, Fox’s hand over it. A waggle of his fingers made it brighter, but only just as he regarded Ela. His eyes held a mischievous glint, just as compelling as their earlier electrifying kiss. Months of tension and want shocked and reverberated through her until there was no other thought at the time but him, everywhere, and though the persistent want and need was still there, Ela realized she was tingling.

This whole thing, the want, was a little new. She spent months thinking he held no sexual attraction to women, and while his kiss proved he damn well did, months of thinking this wasn’t possible still made their current situation a little unreal. There was something else as well, something more insidious. She pushed it aside before, but the thought immediately became forefront as Fox inched closer. She gulped, and it was all she could think about.

Would it be good? What if it wasn’t good?

Fox’s elegant hand moved to caress her cheek. The backs of his fingers were soft, and Ela closed her eyes as long fingers wove through her braided hair to her pointed ear. It made her shiver. For a moment there was the gentle softness of his hands, no mounting terror or anything of the sort that maybe she wouldn’t enjoy herself. There was only smoothness, and gentleness.

Her lips curved to a smile as he lifted her chin up. She felt him lean down, lean down to kiss her. “There’s not one part of you I won’t kiss,” he murmured, and his voice was like honey, laced with promises. He captured her lips again, learning the shape of her mouth. When his tongue sought an entrance she opened in welcome. Warmth radiated through her. Warmth, and more want.

The long line of his body hovered over her, compelling her to move down to the bedroll. Her pale hair became splayed across the pillowcase as her body relaxed, if only slightly. Fox was over her, his red braid over his shoulder as he sunk to her frame, distributing his body weight so he would not pin her down. Her heart was thundering in her chest again. It really wasn’t as though she was new to this whole thing, she reminded herself. Fox was new, the situation not necessarily. And Fox was different from her lover past. Much different. Fire coiled in her being when she thought of him, his presence made something inside her dance. Did she feel that way before? Never, not that she could recall. She would have nothing to fear, nothing to worry about. It would be good. Better than good, because it was Fox. She hoped.

She searched her memory for what she did in times like these before. There was a lot of laying there as her lover past moved and went about his business, but what did she do? Did she just lay there and take it? As Fox nuzzled her and kissed the paths her vallaslin made, paying special attention to the scar on her eyebrow, she thought she recalled wrapping her arms around him. She chose to do it to Fox then, partly because it seemed right, but mostly because she wanted him closer. In the scheme of things they really hadn’t gotten that close. Their bodies were together yes, but still clothed. There was more, much more, much closer they could get…

“Ela,” Fox purred in her ear. “Beautiful, beautiful…”

“Fox,” she purred back.

He moved, shifted above her, his pelvis in the crook of her hip. She felt it. Felt him. She hoped she would like it. She had to. It was him, it was…

“Ela, are you all right?”

She didn’t realize she clamped her eyes shut. When she opened them, Fox’s gaze was alert and worried. “Fine,” she stammered, still feeling her heart beat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’re shaking.”

Was she? “I am not,” she insisted, all too stubbornly.

“You are.”

She frowned. “Fine, I am.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Ela, are you a virgin?”


“There’s no shame, you know,” he said, tenderly. He meant it, and part of her wished she was. Still, she told him the truth, that she had another partner before.

“Not good was it?”

She must have turned white. “Uh…well…”

That spoke for itself. He laughed, leaning down to her, looking all too pleased with himself. “I believe I can teach a thing or two. You know.”

Teach? The idea was quite compelling, she had to admit. Yet Fox caressed her hip, not exactly chastely but not in a completely saucy way either, and Ela remained unmoved.

“Are you…?”

“Fine,” she assured, again. “Really. I just…”

“Just what?”

She saw no reason to hide it anymore. “It was bad before. Really bad. He was…ugh.”

“Didn’t take care of you?”

“No. Not at all.” It was all about him and what he wanted. She was just a vessel to get pleasure. She might as well have been a training dummy.

“Did you ever come?”

She should have known he would be that blunt. She saw no reason not to match it, not anymore. “No,” she said. “I didn’t.”

“Have you ever before, by yourself?”

She heard it was possible, but it never really occurred to her that it was something she could do. She wondered if she should even admit it to Fox. Perhaps she could keep it to herself, but…

The bastard. He grinned at her. He damn well knew. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of,” he said. “People go at their own pace. And hey. If you only want to cuddle under the stars tonight, I won’t even take my clothes off, and— mhmm”

Smug, beautiful bastard. She kissed the smirk off his face, took away his words with her hungry lips. Whatever embarrassment or unsureness that was there before was gone, replaced with the primal want to have him touch her everywhere. It was there before yes, but it became all-consuming. It was all she wanted and all she would ever want. Fox. Wonderful, smug, bastard, completely impossible. Utter tease. Hers.

“I believe you said you would kiss me everywhere,” she muttered between breathless exchanges of their lips. “I think it’s time you get on that.”

He wasted no time after that. Neither did she as she helped him remove her clothes. She was only in her undergarments and nothing particularly spicy had happened yet, but already things were going much different than before. Before, Ela’s time with her partner had been rushed and hurried, clothes always still half on. It was new to her, to be this naked in front of someone. She liked Fox’s gaze on her body, eyes dilated and wide with pleasure, an appreciative hum as he swept over her form. There were scars, and though she could tell him the story of each one, such as how she received the wolf bite on her left arm, she had other things in mind. Namely, his mouth on her scars. And other places. He did say he would kiss her everywhere, after all.

She tugged at his shirt, willing it off, but he put his hand on hers. “Ela,” he purred, smoothly and melodically. “Let me make tonight about you.”

“Only me?” she wondered.

“Let me give you what you deserve.”

She knew of worship before, but never like this. Never to her. Fox’s mouth wandered, giving every part of her skin a hungry, lavishing attention. Every part, even the parts of her she never thought attention could be bestowed upon. He traveled down her slender arms, strong from holding a sword and fighting. When he came to the bite mark scar, he lifted her arm and traced it with his tongue. Her breath caught when their eyes met, and in her peripherals, she saw how the lamp light glowed with magic.

“You like this, don’t you?” she asked.

“Quite. And…” he leaned down, touching their foreheads. “I’ve only just begun.”

He pressed a single, chaste kiss to her lips. His hand toyed with the fringe at the end of her breast band, seeking permission to remove it. With a nod she allowed, and the wetness that had begun to pool since the night began further pooled as the pads of his long fingers experimentally caressed her breasts. Ela arched at the feel, bit her lip as his delicate mouth left wet hot kisses in the valley between. Hands kneaded and massaged. How could she have gone on before without this worship, without him? How could she ever go on without it again? She wanted more but she was content with his sensual touch, because it meant something. Their squabbling, their looks and their time together culminated to become a raw, primal sensuality, it meant something. And still there was more.

The lamp glowed a little brighter as he took a pert nipple in his mouth, nipping here and there, and drawing a circle around with his tongue. “You like?” he mumbled into her skin, and she nodded, her hand slipping to the top of his red head, seeking him to explore more. Explore he did, leaving long and lingering kisses to her belly, tracing the scare on her torso before moving along the line of her smalls. He would not do more, if she told him not to, but dammit, she wanted. She had been wanting since their first fierce kiss, since she first saw him, but the want was overwhelming now, and if he did not touch her or kiss her at her center she would scream. He knew that, but the bastard did not do what she wanted. Merely he moved his careful digit over her clothed wetness, smirking at how damp it was. Her hand tugged at his braid in a silent demand, but his answer was not to remove her smalls, but leave a hot wet press to her inner thighs. He left more kisses, his mouth traveling down her legs, reverently kissing the tops of her feet before ascending to where he had been purposely been neglecting. He smirked, and she pouted.



“Can you get on with it?”

He rested his head in his hand, peering at her. “I never ‘get on with it.’ There’s no fun in that.”

That was what the last one did, just get on with it, Ela recalled, and she certainly didn’t enjoy that as much as she had been enjoying it with Fox. It was so mediocre before. No passion, no nothing. If she never met Fox she wondered if she would ever know how wonderful it could be.

And still there was more. And more, and more, and more…

She wiggled her hips impatiently. He laughed at her ardor, placing his hands on her hips. “Well then,” he purred, as slowly, he hooked his fingers inside the seam of her undergarments, “I suppose you deserve something.”


“Yes. Suppose.” He nudged her legs, imploring them to part. She did as he wanted, hooking her legs over his back and digging the balls of her feet into him. He breathed and the air against her clit was a tantalizing prelude to his mouth.

His mouth. She licked her lips and he smirked. “My face is too pretty for a shem, so you say,” he teased. “I think it will look pretty between your thighs.”

Further the wetness pooled at his velvety and tantalizing words. His nose just barely ghosted her clit and already it was too much and not enough. No one had touched her there before, not even herself, and though she supposed she knew that little pearl could elicit pleasure and send her body into frissons, she did not truly know the full extent until Fox’s warm mouth encircled it.

He prided himself on his skilled tongue, and during their flirtations and banter she playfully brushed it aside. Yet the way his tongue moved, sometimes circling her clit and sometimes lapping up the gathering wetness, that was another matter entirely. And though it would wound her pride, somewhere in her hazy bliss she made a mental note to praise him later. Just as she never really touched herself she never really considered this from another. Upon the discovery of how exquisite, how wonderful it was, it would be difficult to not. Fox tried out different patterns, going off her moans and sighs to see what she liked best. It was the flat part of his tongue firmly pressed down that drove her the wildest and made her writhe so much that Fox had to keep her hips pinned to the ground so she would not thrash. It was better than good. Perfect, exquisite, and she felt a strange sort of grudge against her body and herself for keeping the secret of how pleasurable something like this could be. Fox must have known her train of thought. She sneaked a peak at him, the ginger hair between her thighs an erotic sight. Further the lamp glowed, and Ela could see him, rutting against the bedroll as he pleasured her. Yes, Fox knew what she was thinking, and if she knew him, she knew he would say that she had been given the distinct pleasure of having him show her just how thrilling these matters could be.

A long, careful digit easily slid inside her folds. He licked her clit as his finger pumped, reaching a part of her inside her walls that made the stars dance. The lamp flickered. She closed her eyes, let herself feel. Her body was reaching, reaching. Water was being poured into a glass. It would spill if she let it. She would. She wanted it to spill and break. She wanted to feel the water, feel the tides of something she did not quite fully understand. And Fox was moving his hand against her clit, pressing and making circles as his other digit twirled inside her. He understood, he knew. He was not afraid, so she was not afraid, and he made her come against his lips and tongue.

It was her first and it was one to remember, but of course Fox made it that way. Her body peaked, and she felt as though her body tasted the rays of the sun and had given her one of it’s rays. She sighed, wanting it again. Wanting Fox. Her arms wove around him and she pulled him into her, stroking his hair, becoming lost in the feel of him, tasting the salty musk of her arousal on his lips. He moaned when her hips wiggled in just the right way to give his cock contact, but not enough. She had an idea. And there was something she really, really wanted to do.

She pulled down his cloak as best she could, kissing and tasting the expanse of his shoulders and collarbones. His breathing hitched as her hands drifted, right to the seam of his trousers. “Ela?” he asked, her hands stopping temporarily. “Are you sure you—”

“Sh. Let me do this.”

He was in no mood to object, especially not when she took a hold of him and pumped up and down. A bead of cum leaked from the tip, and with her thumb she rubbed it away, circling the tip a little and listening to him moan. There were many desires she held as she brought him pleasure with her hand. The first was to get that smug grin off his face. The second was to get him back for all the teasing and flirting. And the third was the fact that she simply thought he looked beautiful like that with his eyes closed, the hard lines of his face soft, and his name a prayer and a plea on her lips, and she wanted to give him the pleasure he gave her.

“Mhmmm,” he cried, sinking into her, burying his head in the crook of her neck. “Ela…”

The light of the lamp grew brighter, and brighter. What would happen when he came? Would it burn so bright that the entire countryside would see? It burned, and Fox grew louder, and louder, and when he spilled into her fingertips and on her skin, the kiss he gave tasted like fire and flame. He was better than anything her mind could have conjured. Every other experience before him was nothing but a fleeting memory. If she had only this night to ever think of again, she would be happy.

That was a lie. She damn well knew she would want him again.

Grinning, they shared another kiss, limbs becoming entwined. Grabbing some cloth Fox helped her clean, and once they were adjusted again, laying in each other’s arms, she felt him chuckle. The lamp dimmed, but it was calming, comforting. A reminder that there was a flame and spark in him for her that would burn eternal.

“So,” he asked after a while, asking in such a way that indicated he already knew the answer. “Was that—”

“You damn well know it was good.”

“You knew what to do yourself,” he praised, smoothing the hair away from her face. “That was…explosive.”

“Thank you.”

“Your first one,” he said to himself. “Now that—”

“Don’t get too cocky.”

He promised he wouldn’t but she knew it was too late. He already was. He always would be. Perhaps though, it was one of those idiosyncratic things about him that she adored. At least for now. Someday it might get old. But relationships changed. In the time they knew each other, theirs did more times than she could count.

Yet however it changed, she knew. The want would not go away. Not anytime soon, if it ever would at all.

“You hungry?” he asked. “Do you want to get a snack maybe?”

And they laughed and laughed as they ate their platter of cheese and bread, neither one saying, but both knowing that the thing that began with one look all those months ago was going at full speed.