Cool lips grazed the crook of Jaina’s throat, stirring her from slumber. She sighed as they travelled the curve of her shoulder, slowly, as if they had every right to be there. Which, of course, they did.
“Aranal, Dal’alah,” Sylvanas whispered against her skin. “Your mate is in need.”
Jaina’s lashes fluttered, and she smiled at the term of endearment. Few people would believe that Sylvanas, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken and Warchief of the Horde, used such honeyed words, but it was a secret she enjoyed keeping to herself.
“Your Starlight is sleepy,” she said, swallowing a yawn. “Few more minutes…” As appealing as the thought of indulging Sylvanas was, she was still happily groggy, and knew she would drift back to sleep if her mate allowed.
Sylvanas did not allow. She nipped Jaina’s neck, a low growl rumbling in her throat. “Now,” she insisted, canting her hips into Jaina’s rear. The shaft of her cock was already swollen, and Jaina gasped to feel its firmness. Obviously, Sylvanas had not been exaggerating her need.
“Fine.” Jaina flipped onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow, pleased to note it carried some of Sylvanas’s scent. The position felt a little different, thanks to the growing curve of her abdomen, but she wasn’t so far along that it was uncomfortable. “M’not moving,” she declared, her voice somewhat muffled. “Still waking up. If you want it, you do the work.”
“As you wish, dalah’surfal.”
Sylvanas rolled on top of her, stretching over the length of her body and caging her between both arms. The hard points of Sylvanas’s nipples dragged against her back, and Jaina shuddered in spite of her choice to stay still. A little more of her sleepiness evaporated.
Her heart picked up speed as Sylvanas brushed her loose hair aside, exposing her upper back to plant lingering kisses upon it. As before, her lips felt cool on Jaina’s skin, but not too cold. Sharing a bed for the night had allowed Sylvanas to leech a considerable amount of her body heat.
“Beautiful,” Sylvanas purred, twisting a stray lock of Jaina’s hair between her fingers. The tips of her claws caressed Jaina’s scalp, and she moaned into the pillow.
Sylvanas chuckled. “Is that so, my pet?” She ground her hips, pressing into Jaina’s upturned rear again. “What happened to lying still?”
Jaina moaned louder, this time with frustration. She didn’t give Sylvanas the satisfaction of raising her ass for a mount, but she did spread her thighs to invite the alpha in.
She was not disappointed. Sylvanas accepted the invitation with more eagerness than Jaina anticipated, pulling her legs further apart. She waited, a little breathless, for Sylvanas’s cock to settle against her opening, but instead, long, dexterous fingers toyed through her wetness.
Ohh… not fair… Jaina bit her lip, afraid the pillow wouldn’t be enough to stifle her cries. Sylvanas truly was wicked, even at her gentlest.
“Open for me, darling. Show me how wet you are.”
Jaina’s toes curled. Wicked, indeed. Nevertheless, she took a deep breath and made an effort to relax her body. One, then two of Sylvanas’s fingers slid in without any resistance at all, and Jaina choked back a whine as they probed her front wall.
Sylvanas hummed her approval. “There she is. My little Kul Tiran whore. I see I am not the only one in need this morning.”
Jaina huffed, twisting to glare over her shoulder. “I wasn’t, until you woke me up and started rubbing off on me. This is your fault.”
“True enough. I will happily take credit.” Sylvanas hooked her fingers again, drawing out a sob Jaina couldn’t bite back. “Just as I will take credit for all the whining and pleading you’re about to do.”
Any protests Jaina might have made were lost as Sylvanas pushed deeper, bringing her thumb to bear on Jaina’s clit. It pressed and rubbed with practiced precision, designed to make her body melt. She sank forward into the mattress, her limbs feeling like tingling dead weight.
Her hips had other ideas. They stirred like a low tide, gentle but insistent, finding a steady rhythm against Sylvanas’s hand. The long fingers inside her sank deeper, and she bit the fabric of the pillow, curling her toes against the onslaught. It absolutely wasn’t fair. Sylvanas was being horrid, exploiting all her weaknesses while she was too tired and comfortable to put up a proper resistance.
Jaina turned her head to the side and said so.
“Horrid?” Sylvanas chuckled. She gave Jaina’s clit a few more strokes, coaxing it from beneath its hood. “Is that truly the adjective you wish to use for this?”
Jaina panted. “Yes. Besides, aren’t you the one who needs to get off?”
Sylvanas withdrew her fingers, cupping the cheeks of Jaina’s ass and kneading firmly. “You should know by now that tormenting you is what gets me off.” She shifted her weight, resting the shaft of her cock on Jaina’s rear, a reminder of what she was withholding.
“Fuck you,” Jaina whimpered, unable to make the words sound truly threatening.
Sylvanas’s claws raked over her ass and down the backs of her thighs, undoubtedly leaving bright red lines behind. “No. Quite the opposite.”
At last, Sylvanas positioned the tip of her cock at Jaina’s opening. It remained there for several moments, and with growing annoyance and arousal, Jaina realized why. She bit the inside of her cheek, but the thickness just barely breaching her entrance was too tempting a reward to ignore.
“I hate you,” she grumbled.
“As long as you also love me,” Sylvanas replied, as fast as Talah’Ental’s bowstring.
Jaina grimaced. It was only because she did love Sylvanas, in spite of, and also perhaps because of, her infuriating habits, that she finally managed to say, “Please. Tides, please fuck me.”
“As my lady wishes.”
Sylvanas pressed forward, and Jaina had to bury her face in the pillow once more. She allowed herself to scream, clutching the fabric as the familiar, yet still overwhelming thickness of Sylvanas’s cock eased inside her.
It was a slow thrust, but not gentle. Sylvanas maintained the pressure, holding Jaina’s ass in one hand and pinning the small of her back with the other to keep her from squirming. She squirmed anyway, because it was so big and so much and the moment was rapidly approaching when she feared it wouldn’t fit despite her ample slickness.
But it did fit, of course, and when Sylvanas hilted inside her, they both exhaled matching sighs of relief.
Jaina was somewhat disappointed when Sylvanas didn’t immediately start thrusting. She stretched back out over Jaina’s body, establishing as much contact as possible. “Warm,” she sighed, and Jaina felt a pleasant tug at her heart. She didn’t know whether Sylvanas was talking about her skin or her pussy, but she supposed it didn’t matter.
“Fuck me,” she said, wiggling her rear in encouragement.
Sylvanas tsked. “So demanding, Dal’alah, for one who begged to go back to sleep a few minutes ago. Changed your mind, have you?”
Jaina refused to be drawn into Sylvanas’s banter. Rather, she rolled her hips back and squeezed her inner muscles, molding them as tightly as she could to the shape of Sylvanas’s cock.
She was rewarded by a hitch of breath. Sylvanas ground her hips, trying for more depth even though she’d already bottomed out, and sunspots flashed in front of Jaina’s eyes. Fuck. Sylvanas knew just how to fill her.
“Lie still,” Sylvanas cooed, pausing to drag her tongue up the side of Jaina’s neck. Once she found a satisfactory place, she bit down hard enough to make Jaina clench involuntarily. “Lie still, dalah kim falo’ban, and take what I give you.”
“You’d have to give me something to take first,” Jaina huffed, blowing aside a few strands of hair clinging to her face. Some of it was Sylvanas’s, which had spilled over her shoulder.
“Oh? Like this?”
Sylvanas withdrew, and Jaina felt a piercing ache deep inside. It was only a few inches, but the loss was still maddening, until Sylvanas snapped her hips and slid back in on an easy tide of Jaina’s wetness.
Fullness replaced the awful emptiness, so wonderful as to be overwhelming. Jaina clutched the pillow tighter, clenching her jaw. She would have risen onto her hands and knees but for the weight of Sylvanas’s body on top of hers. No longer tired, she relished the helplessness of her prone position, trembling as Sylvanas drew back for another testing stroke.
As before, it was slow but deliberate. Measured, but not gentle. Sylvanas fucked her as though she had every right to fill Jaina’s body as deeply as she could, as thoroughly as she could. The knowing thrusts were meant to exploit, and absolutely succeeded in doing so.
Jaina swore through gritted teeth.
Sylvanas shoved her claws into Jaina’s hair, pulling her head back to nip the shell of her ear. “Such language, Lady Proudmoore,” she drawled. “Wherever did a pretty thing like you learn such filth? Didn’t your mother’s sailors curb their tongues around you?”
Were she any less aroused, Jaina would have rolled her eyes and called Sylvanas on her hypocrisy. Her mate had already insulted her in two languages — granted, for Jaina’s own pleasure — and they’d only been ‘conversing’ a few minutes. But greed got the better of her, and she tilted her head to the side instead, baring her neck for Sylvanas’s teeth.
“Do something better with your mouth besides talking about my mother.”
It was an offer she knew her mate wouldn’t be able to refuse, and she was right. Sylvanas abandoned her ear in favor of her throat, sinking her fangs in and growling possessively. There, Jaina thought, that should keep her quiet, but then Sylvanas picked up pace, and Jaina keened in pleasure. Sylvanas plunged in at an angle that battered perfectly against her front wall, and she rocked like a ship riding storm-waves.
After that, Sylvanas made no more attempts to tease. She pounded Jaina into the mattress, still slowly, but with a thorough ferocity that lit every one of Jaina’s nerves aflame. All too soon, she was riding the crest of her first peak, about to tumble over.
Sylvanas released her neck. “No.”
Jaina gave a cry of distress, but it did nothing to soften Sylvanas’s heart or inspire mercy.
“No,” she growled again, rutting hard into Jaina’s rear for good measure. “I told you — you will take what I give.”
Jaina bit back more curses. She knew obedience would be well worth her while in the end, but that didn’t mean she appreciated being manipulated. At least, not completely. Briefly, she considered calling Sylvanas’s bluff, but despite the needy throbs the alpha’s cock gave inside her at the apex of each thrust, she knew Sylvanas was a bastion of control outside her ruts. She would have no problem leaving Jaina high and dry in order to make a point, and Jaina was already far too close to risk it.
She relaxed, trusting Sylvanas to carry them both where they needed to be in due time.
She went deliberately limp, giving voice to the needy noises she wanted to make, allowing herself to experience the full force of the pleasure Sylvanas’s hands, mouth, and cock offered.
One of those hands slid under her belly and between her legs, seeking out her clit. When Sylvanas circled it, Jaina’s core clenched, and she inhaled sharply, holding her breath to try and delay her release.
Sylvanas mumbled sweetly into her shoulder, glowing words of praise in both Thalassian and Common. “That’s it. My good girl. Taking me so well… so obedient… so responsive.” As if to make a point, Sylvanas pinched her clit, causing Jaina’s core to ripple.
There was little she could do to hasten Sylvanas’s torment, but while she was resigned to enduring it, she also did what she could to earn her reward. She clenched her muscles, bearing down around Sylvanas’s shaft, hoping the deliberate squeezing would please her mate. It did, judging by the way Sylvanas hissed and throbbed within her, but did nothing to encourage a faster pace.
“Are you in need, my love?” Sylvanas plunged as deep as possible and remained there, the tops of her thighs surprisingly warm against Jaina’s ass. “Does it ache? Tell me.”
“You know it does,” Jaina huffed, but her words sounded more like a whimper.
Sylvanas placed a tender kiss behind her ear, pausing to smell her hair before worrying the lobe with pointed teeth. “And what would you do for me, if it meant I would ease your pain?”
Jaina gritted her teeth. She knew what Sylvanas was after, but stubbornly, she didn’t want to surrender. At least, not so easily. That would only make Sylvanas smug, and the alpha didn’t need any extra encouragement for that. But after a few moments of stillness, Jaina began to reconsider. She already missed Sylvanas’s thrusts, damn her, and even the slight pause put cracks in her resolve.
“Just tell me whatever depraved thing it is you want to hear and I’ll say it, as long as you move,” she growled, rocking her hips back in hopes of convincing Sylvanas to resume.
Sylvanas did not resume. She remained frustratingly silent and still, until Jaina gave a broken sob of frustration.
“Better.” Sylvanas rewarded her with another deep thrust, but only the one. Jaina seriously considered wiggling out from beneath her and throwing the pillow in her face — and would have done, if she hadn’t known Sylvanas would leave her to her own hand for who knew how long as punishment.
Sylvanas seemed to realize she was reaching the limits of Jaina’s patience. “Tell me,” she purred, drawing things out by sucking the crook of Jaina’s throat, “to whom you belong. In your own words, Lord Admiral.”
Heat flooded Jaina’s entire being. She had known it would be something along those lines, but that didn’t lessen the effect Sylvanas’s demand had on her. She spilled more wetness around the thick shaft buried inside her, fluttering with the knowledge that she was Sylvanas’s, and was being forced to say so.
“You,” she gasped. It was the only word she could manage.
“And?” Sylvanas gave another thrust out of rhythm, a small reward for Jaina’s obedience, then stopped, waiting expectantly.
Jaina’s stomach sank. Of course that hadn’t been enough. “Damn it, I’m yours, Sylvanas. Yours only. Yours completely. As long as stars do shine.”
That did it. She cried out as Sylvanas took her, plunging in and out at a truly feverish pace, completely unlike the slow, thorough fucking she’d delivered before. Her unrestrained passion sent Jaina reeling, and after only a few strokes, she knew she couldn’t hold back any longer, even if Sylvanas ordered her to.
She opened her mouth to offer a warning, but all that came out was a wail. The large, firm bulge of Sylvanas’s knot had finally made an appearance, grinding expectantly against her entrance. The flash of initial discomfort from the stretch soon dissolved into another tide of wetness and yet more pleasure.
Jaina raised her hips, clawing at the sheets. “Knot me,” she pleaded, biting down on her lip as water leaked from her eyes. “Please, Sylvanas, just fucking—”
Sylvanas pushed inside her with fluid ease, and Jaina’s mouth hung open in blissful shock. Despite having taken her mate’s knot countless times before, the fullness was overwhelming. She tensed and shuddered, then came all at once, pulsing wildly as her inner walls struggled to accept Sylvanas’s thickness.
“Jaina,” Sylvanas whimpered, a surprisingly sweet and vulnerable sound that left Jaina dizzy. Mates though they were, Sylvanas still usually referred to her as ‘Proudmoore’ outside of pet names, which Jaina didn’t mind at all. But sometimes, it was nice to hear her lover cry out her name, especially with such fervent need.
“Fill me,” Jaina gasped, a demand and a plea wrapped into one. “Give me everything you… ahh, fuck!”
Her contractions, which had never really stopped, swelled to another crescendo as Sylvanas pulsed inside her. Those harsh twitches were the only warning she received before Sylvanas came, flooding her core with a rush of warmth. And it was very warm, thanks to all the heat Sylvanas had drawn from her own body. Heat Jaina was more than willing to share.
Sylvanas’s spurts came faster as she latched onto Jaina’s shoulder, sucking mercilessly at the scar there. She growled out something around a mouthful of Jaina’s flesh which she almost didn’t recognize, but familiarity allowed her to translate the muffled word. “Dalahn.”
“Yours,” Jaina keened, and this time, that one word was enough. They rode their peaks together, locked in shared ecstasy.
By the time Sylvanas’s release tapered off and Jaina’s aftershocks faded to weak flutters, they were both trembling. The syrupy heaviness that accompanied Jaina’s former exhaustion returned, and she went limp, groaning into the pillowcase, which smelled even more like Sylvanas than before, much to her delight. “Mm. Good.”
Sylvanas released her shoulder and chuckled. “Merely good? I must admit, I was hoping for more.”
Jaina rolled her eyes. “Fishing for praise doesn’t become you, you know.”
“You like it when I’m a brat. I daresay it’s half of why you keep me around.”
“I keep you around for many reasons, Dal’alah, but I must admit, that is one of them.” Sylvanas’s hand crept beneath Jaina’s belly, caressing her rounded abdomen. “Among many others.”
A flush burned Jaina’s cheeks. She wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for the arrival of their litter, which would undoubtedly grow into a swarm of holy terrors if they had even a trace of Sylvanas in them — or her, for that matter. She hadn’t been the most well-behaved pup herself.
“We won’t get to enjoy many mornings like this soon, will we?” she mused, a little sadly.
Sylvanas nuzzled her cheek. “We will make time. Somehow. And they will be happier for it, because we are happy.”
Are we? Although Jaina didn’t regret her choice to bond with Sylvanas, ‘happy’ glossed over the many complications their relationship had caused. And yet, when she looked inside herself, she found that she was, indeed, happy. Sylvanas was hers as much as she was Sylvanas’s, and that alone would be enough to see her through any difficulties.
“But you are not to take them sailing until they can swim on their own.”
“We’ll revisit this discussion later,” Jaina said, too relaxed to indulge in an argument. She was happy, damn it, and she wanted to stay that way for a few more minutes, before the world inevitably intruded.
But maybe it wouldn’t today. She was cozy in bed with her mate, still pleasantly full and tied, and had no pressing obligations to speak of. All in all, it seemed a good day to remain in bed except for scurrying out in search of food and water. Although I could always conjure some, if I really didn’t want to go anywhere...
“What are you thinking?” Sylvanas asked, stroking Jaina’s cheek with the backs of her knuckles. Her expression was mildly concerned, and Jaina smiled to reassure her.
“I’m thinking…” She clenched around Sylvanas, stirring her hips slightly. “That we aren’t finished yet.”
Sylvanas’s breath hitched in a gasp, even though she hadn’t been breathing before. A low rumble vibrated in her chest, and she buried her face in the crook of Jaina’s neck, cupping her stomach possessively. Jaina shivered. It seemed Sylvanas was of a similar mind.
Jaina sighed, fixing the messy stack of papers on her desk with a forlorn stare. No, not her desk. Sylvanas’s desk. She was reminded of that fact every time she tried and failed to find a less painful position. While she’d found the perfect set of pillows for her own workspace—after a ridiculously long search—Sylvanas’s chair was wooden, high-backed, and bare. Completely wrong for a pregnant omega’s aching spine.
Briefly, she considered going over to her own desk, removing the pillows, and placing them in Sylvanas’s chair, only to give up before she started. The blasted summer heat had sapped all her energy, and she barely found the will to grab the next correspondence from the stack. She opened it, paying no mind to the red wax seal that meant the letter was for Sylvanas’s eyes only.
With a bored wave, she dismissed the enchantment that would have incinerated the letter, had it fallen into any hands other than the Warchief’s, and discarded the envelope somewhere near the rubbish bin without making sure it went in. She scanned the spidery writing, only to yawn mid-way through.
Anya’s scouting party had nothing new to report, just like last week, and the week before. Nevertheless, Sylvanas had made it a point to check up on several of her Dark Ranger squads recently—much to Jaina’s chagrin. Of course she leaves me alone to fly around Kalimdor for no reason other than she’s bored, while I’m stuck going through her mail. When she’s finally back home, no less!
Jaina set the letter aside for Sylvanas to read later, if she wished—although Jaina sincerely doubted she would—and stared at the mountain of unopened mail that remained. Just looking at it made her want to tear her hair out, and she whimpered in frustration.
No. No more letters. If she wants these dealt with, she can bloody well open them herself.
Mind made up, Jaina braced her hands on the arms of the chair and painstakingly lifted onto her feet. Once she got some momentum, she managed without much issue, although she placed a palm on her lower back as she straightened out, wincing at the stiffness of her muscles. “Should’ve gotten the pillows to begin with,” she muttered, making her way to the door.
Without really thinking about it, Jaina took the narrow staircase that led to the lower level of the Hold. Many people didn’t realize there was an upper level at all, as the staircase wasn’t open for public use. The upper area was supposed to be a shared office, although Jaina conceded that her books took up the majority of the space.
Sylvanas was forever complaining about them, too: ‘You have not one, but two perfectly good libraries of your own, as well as bookcases in both of your bedrooms. Is it really necessary to clutter the only workspace I use with more of your dusty tomes?’
Recalling the regular chastisement, which had long since lost its sting and become an inside joke, nonetheless stoked the simmering coals of Jaina’s annoyance. That annoyance became a full-fledged flame of anger when she arrived in Sylvanas’s throne room, which was empty except for the Warchief herself. No petitioners, no advisors, no Dark Rangers. Just Sylvanas, lounging on her throne, seemingly without a care.
Jaina sucked the inside of her cheek, hoping her gulp wasn’t visible. The sight of Sylvanas sprawled across her throne, legs spread, the heel of her boot resting casually on the opposite knee, chin balanced on her fist, was as appealing as it was infuriating. She knew it, too, judging from the noticeable perk of her ears and the lift of her long, tufted eyebrows. She studied Jaina as intently as Jaina studied her, and the hairs on Jaina’s neck prickled under such scrutiny.
“Proudmoore.” Sylvanas said nothing more. Just Jaina’s last name, in an affected drawl that indicated boredom.
Jaina wasn’t fooled for a moment. The gleam in her mate’s blood red eyes was unmistakably hungry. “Windrunner.” She stepped forward, forcing herself to remain calm. Sylvanas hadn’t actually frightened her in a long time, but there was still something predatory about the alpha. Something that made Jaina’s heart race—not with fear, but anticipation. The sight sent a bead of sweat rolling between her shoulder blades.
Sylvanas lifted her chin from her fist, reversing the position of her legs. Damn her, Jaina thought, biting her cheek harder. It wasn’t fair, how long Sylvanas’s legs were compared with her lithe body, or the graceful way she moved them, putting them on display. And it was most definitely a display, just like the rest of her pose.
“Have you finished going over those field reports?” Sylvanas asked, with the same infuriating sibilance.
“Yes, although you could have gone over them yourself. They were addressed to the Warchief.”
Sylvanas waved a careless hand, still clad in its clawed gauntlet. “I might have done, had I known you would pout so. Is going through my correspondences really that much of a trial for you, Lord Admiral?”
Jaina rolled her eyes. Ah. So we’re doing titles today. Why did I choose her as my mate again? She truly is insufferable…
“Just because I’m your consort doesn’t mean I’m your mail girl, too.”
“There you go, dal’alah, putting words in my mouth again.”
The use of the tender endearment, so close on the heels of her title, spun Jaina even more off-kilter. She scowled, brushing aside a sweaty strand of hair that had escaped her braid. The muggy heat, which blanketed everything even within the shelter of Grommash Hold, certainly wasn’t helping the situation. “If you’re trying to piss me off, it’s working.”
Sylvanas’s ruby eyes widened in mock surprise. “Me? Perish the thought.” But the corners of her dark lips twitched into the barest hint of a smirk.
Jaina couldn’t help herself. Her gaze lingered on the lush purple bow of Sylvanas’s mouth for several moments before traveling along the graceful curve of her neck. The enticing angle of her collarbone stood out prominently above her cuirass.
“Don’t be such a shit,” Jaina grumbled, covering for the fact that she’d forgotten to respond right away. “The field reports were inconsequential, by the way.”
Sylvanas nodded and ran her tongue over her lips, a gesture that immediately drew Jaina’s attention. Her stomach squirmed, and she grew even more annoyed with herself for having such a strong response to such a small action on Sylvanas’s part. Really, if she thinks that stupid tongue thing is enough to put me on my knees before her throne… this time…
“As I anticipated,” Sylvanas said.
“So, you decided to waste my time instead of yours? How considerate.”
Sylvanas snorted. “I happen to know you are a fortnight ahead on your paperwork, while I am terribly behind on mine. Do you really begrudge helping your mate?”
“You’re behind,” Jaina said, “because you insisted on accompanying your Dark Rangers into the field last week, when you most definitely didn’t need to.”
Sylvanas’s sharp-fanged smile spread wider. “Ah. So that is the true cause of your annoyance. Surely having the bed to yourself for a few nights wasn’t too horrible? You do like to complain about how uncomfortable you are these days.”
As much as Jaina hated to admit it, Sylvanas had struck upon the truth. She wasn’t exactly thrilled about going through Sylvanas’s mail, but spending the previous week alone had been worse. Their bed was far too large for one person, even if that person happened to be heavily pregnant, and the heat of Durotar was extremely unpleasant without Sylvanas’s cool body to soothe her own overheated skin. And that wasn’t even counting all the orgasms she’d missed while Sylvanas jaunted about Kalimdor.
“We both travel a lot,” Jaina said. It was admittedly rather foolish of her to hold a grudge, when she had spent almost a month alone in Kul Tiras not so long ago, with only the occasional midnight portal visit to sustain her and Sylvanas both. And that isn’t counting the time I ran away, either… at least she told me where she was going.
“My darling wife,” Sylvanas said, her amusement only eclipsed by her insufferable smugness, “are you trying to say you missed me?”
Jaina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yes, all right? I missed you. Is that what you want to fucking hear?” She didn’t want to admit she’d spent a good portion of Sylvanas’s absence buried under the sheets in a nest of her own making, one that had smelled of them both, especially when she’d cuddled Sylvanas’s pillow.
To Jaina’s surprise, Sylvanas did not go for the throat. Rather than continue looking superior, she seemed almost surprised as she uncrossed her legs and patted her knee. “Come. Sit.”
Jaina studied her warily. “Why?”
Rather than answer, Sylvanas repeated the command. “Come here.” This time, the order was accompanied by an irresistible wave of alpha-scent, and Jaina’s legs trembled. She wouldn’t have found it difficult to resist—she never had a problem telling Sylvanas no when she was being particularly asinine—except for the fact that she really wanted to step closer. To take Sylvanas’s invitation and sit in her lap, where she could smell better. Where she would be close enough to touch, too.
“If I must,” she huffed, stomping over with a distinct lack of seductive grace. Just because I’m sitting in her lap doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven her, or that she can get whatever depraved thing she wants from me… But even as she tried to steel herself, Jaina’s spine prickled with… Arousal? Expectation? Hope? Probably all three, if she were being honest.
Sylvanas scooted forward on the throne, abandoning her careless slouch to make a more appropriate cushion of her lap. Jaina knelt on the empty part of the throne’s wide seat, one knee on either side of Sylvanas’s lean, leather-clad thighs. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable a position, even with her belly between them. She remained cautious at first, but relaxed as Sylvanas caressed her cheek, and she moaned, leaning into the touch. She hadn’t realized how hot her face and forehead were, and the metal of Sylvanas’s gauntlet felt wonderfully cool.
“Better.” Sylvanas leaned forward, although she made no move to increase their contact. She inhaled, a deliberate act that caused Jaina’s pulse to throb in her throat. “You smell…”
“Well, sorry, but the living sweat. You’ll just have to deal with it.”
Sylvanas scoffed. “If you’d let me finish, Proudmoore, I was going to say, you smell good. Like mine.”
Jaina wasn’t sure whether the sound that burst from between her lips was a laugh or a snort. “I smell like yours? That doesn’t even make sense.”
Rather than laugh, Sylvanas fixed her with a blood red stare. “It makes perfect sense. And do you know why?”
Jaina knew exactly what Sylvanas wanted her to say, but she jutted her jaw forward in defiance. “I’m still annoyed with you,” she declared.
“Of that, I have no doubt. And yet…” Sylvanas continued staring, and Jaina felt the weight of expectation settle over her—only it wasn’t heavy. It was a bubbly, excited sensation that boiled low in her belly.
“You can’t make me forget I’m angry by trying to turn me on, you know,” she said, although she knew it was a bald-faced lie before it even left her tongue.
Sylvanas raised her tufted eyebrows. “Trying?” she said, in a very skeptical tone.
Jaina’s face flushed. She was sorely tempted to tug the collar of her greatcoat until she remembered she hadn’t worn it. Durotar was far too warm for her usual Kul Tiran attire, and now, sitting in Sylvanas’s lap, she cursed how thin her mage’s robes seemed. They offered some relief from the weather, but they were far too easy for Sylvanas to shred, if she were of a mind to.
“Because I love you, I will offer two options,” Sylvanas said. “Tell me why my absence upset you so, or I’ll have to fuck it out of you.”
The way Sylvanas said those words, hard on the consonants, but with a silky hiss as well, sent another flash of heat much lower than Jaina’s face. She gritted her teeth, but it didn’t help. Sylvanas was far too good at getting under her skin. “You can certainly try,” she growled, the most begrudging ‘yes’ her growing need would allow.
That proved consent enough, because Sylvanas slid one of her gauntlet’s claws under Jaina’s chin, drawing her in for a none-too-gentle kiss. Good, Jaina thought as Sylvanas’s lips slanted against hers, coaxing them apart. I’m too pissed off for the sappy sort of lovemaking anyway. A week alone had left her in desperate need of a good, hard fuck, and she was well aware that Sylvanas could deliver…unless she was in one of her teasing moods.
To test the waters, Jaina nipped Sylvanas’s bottom lip, tugging it between her teeth. Although Sylvanas growled and tensed, she didn’t back away, or leave Jaina’s mouth to chase after hers. Rather, she shoved the claws of her gauntlet through Jaina’s hair, fisting her braid and ruining it in the process.
By the time the kiss finally broke, Jaina was dizzy from more than the heat.
“You have missed me, I see,” Sylvanas purred, scratching lightly at the nape of Jaina’s neck.
Jaina struggled to catch her breath. A single kiss from Sylvanas was enough to empty her lungs. “I said so, didn’t I?”
“And what did you do while I was gone?” Sylvanas pressed a kiss against Jaina’s throat, right over her pulse. “Did you lie alone in bed, pining for me? Or did you take care of yourself?”
Jaina wasn’t sure which answer was more embarrassing. There had been a great deal of midnight pining, yes, but also some self-pleasure—unsatisfying though it was in comparison. “Why are you asking rhetorical questions?” she muttered, tilting her head to invite more kisses along her neck. “Can’t you think of better ways to use that awful mouth?”
“Because,” Sylvanas said, “I enjoy hearing you admit what I already know.”
Jaina warred with herself. It seemed Sylvanas was in the mood to tease a bit after all, and she wasn’t sure resisting was worth the effort. She knew from experience that it would only prolong her torment. “I took care of myself,” she said in a low voice. “It didn’t help much.”
Sylvanas’s nightsaber grin spread wider. “As I thought,” she murmured, stretching the sentence out by kissing Jaina’s neck between words. She sprinkled a few bites in, too, which made Jaina hiss—although not in pain. She very much appreciated Sylvanas’s sharp teeth in moments like these. “Poor thing. I’ve spoiled you for anyone else, even your own hand.”
Jaina thought about protesting—not because Sylvanas was wrong, but because contradicting her usually resulted in delightful punishments. Besides, if I don’t keep her on her toes, who will? “My hand and I usually get on fine. It’s given me a lot more orgasms than you, anyway.”
It was true, but only on a technicality. Her hand had about two decades’ head start on Sylvanas, after all. But Sylvanas was decidedly displeased by the pronouncement. Her red eyes narrowed to burning slits, and a wrinkle formed in her otherwise smooth brow. “Kim’thori,” she snarled, taking Jaina’s lips in a fierce kiss.
Jaina’s brief satisfaction at irritating Sylvanas was replaced by a rush of want. She forgot her own annoyance as Sylvanas pulled her hair, reminding her of the gauntleted grip on her braid. The hold was harsh and possessive, just like Sylvanas’s kiss, and it made Jaina’s toes curl in her sandals.
“Fuck,” she panted when Sylvanas broke away to nip her neck again. Only it wasn’t a nip. It was a hard bite that nearly broke skin, and most definitely bruised. “Ah! Careful there.”
Sylvanas growled around her mouthful of flesh, but didn’t sink her teeth any further. Instead, Jaina felt something pull at her clothes—something that wasn’t Sylvanas’s hands. Those were still occupied, one in her hair, one steadying her hip.
“Hmm? How are you… oh.”
Jaina glanced down to see a pair of shadowy tendrils tugging her robe’s hem. To have Sylvanas summon them—usually for the purpose of restraining her limbs—wasn’t all that unusual, but it normally came later, after they were naked and lathered in sweat. Sylvanas typically preferred more hands-on methods of controlling her before that point, if the wind blew that way.
But this time, the tendrils didn’t restrain Jaina so much as caress her. One snuck beneath her robe and slithered around her thigh, more liquid than smoke. After copious study of banshees and their abilities—in nonsexual situations, even—Jaina still didn’t fully understand Sylvanas’s shadow powers. They seemed to encapsulate all three states of matter at once, alternating between them at will, much like Sylvanas’s body did when it became temporarily incorporeal.
She was definitely corporeal now, though. Though its surface looked like swirling smoke, the tendril possessed noticeable weight and pressure as it coiled higher along her thigh, only for the tapered tip to rub over her smallclothes.
“Seriously?” Jaina asked, aiming a disapproving look at Sylvanas.
Sylvanas wasn’t dissuaded in the slightest. She released Jaina’s braid and hip, trailing the flat of both palms all the way down her back to cup her rear. “I am merely attempting to demonstrate that anything your hand can accomplish, I can improve upon.”
“You remember I’m a mage, right?”
Sylvanas rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Yes, your adorable little feats of prestidigitation can be amusing at times…”
“Prestidigitation? Kind of an ungrateful way to refer to my mirror image spells, or when I make things vibrate—oh!” Sylvanas cut her off by pressing the tendril more insistently against her smallclothes. Jaina swallowed a whimper, and decided the best way to stifle future noises was to kiss Sylvanas some more. So she did, deeply and hungrily.
Sylvanas’s teeth resumed worrying Jaina’s lower lip, while the claws of the Warchief’s gauntlets dug possessively into her rear. The pinpricks didn’t hurt, but they did make Jaina long to feel metal and flesh directly against her bare skin. She waved her hand, removing her robes with a simple vanishing spell.
“Bold of you, Lady Proudmoore,” Sylvanas panted against her mouth. “But you forgot to ask if I wanted the pleasure of removing those pretty robes of yours myself.”
“You mean shredding them,” Jaina grumbled, though her mood was much improved. Kissing Sylvanas tended to do that.
“Unimportant semantics.” Sylvanas tightened her grip on Jaina’s backside, and Jaina trembled as two new shadow-tendrils climbed her back, winding around her upper arms.
They didn’t occupy her mind for long, though, because the tendril between her legs, no longer impeded by her underwear, had started to rub. Its surface felt slick and smooth, as though coated in oil, but left no trace upon her skin. Not that extra lubrication was necessary. She was already embarrassingly wet, which Sylvanas could certainly see and smell, even if she couldn’t feel.
“You seem to be enjoying this,” Sylvanas said, in that obnoxious drawl of hers.
Jaina didn’t answer. Anything that fell from her mouth would surely be humiliating. But Sylvanas wasn’t wrong. The tendril had started to warm, leeching her body heat much like Sylvanas herself did, and the tip slid back and forth over her clit, causing it to stiffen and swell.
“If you’d like more,” Sylvanas continued, locking Jaina in a blood-red stare, “you will have to ask.”
Jaina groaned through gritted teeth. Her hopes that Sylvanas might not tease her for once had been dashed, and the longer Sylvanas tormented her, the more desperate she felt. “Fine. Are you going to fuck me with…whatever that thing is, or not?”
“Forgive me. I should have been more specific. If you’d like more, you will have to ask nicely, like a good girl.”
The words sent a flash of heat straight between Jaina’s legs. She scrunched her face, unhappy at the prospect, but also unbearably aroused. She couldn’t see the tendril past her belly, but she knew it had to be covered in her wetness. Fuck, I might as well. This is what I’ve wanted for the past week…sort of.
“Sylvanas, please?” she rasped, hoping that would be enough. It wasn’t, of course. Sylvanas continued staring expectantly, until Jaina added, “Please fuck me. You’re right. My hand wasn’t enough.”
Sylvanas’s ears twitched with a subtle movement Jaina had learned to recognize as pleasure. “Very good, dalah kim falo’ban.” She adjusted her grip on Jaina’s backside, guiding her pelvis forward, and Jaina cried out as something tested her entrance. Narrow at first, then growing wider, it teased the tender muscles there as it parted them, pushing in with infuriating slowness.
After only an inch or two, Jaina’s eyes rolled back in her head. It felt entirely different than Sylvanas’s fingers or tongue or cock, but certainly not in a bad way. No, definitely not bad. She felt the shadowy tendril’s smoothness glide through her inner walls, pushing in easily, as though it belonged there.
Fuck. Why haven’t I asked her to do this before? If I’d known she could use them to fuck me instead of just tying me up…
The trail of her thoughts veered off-course as the tendril curled , applying white hot pressure against her front wall. She nearly bit through her own lip, choking around a whine.
That only encouraged Sylvanas. The tendrils around Jaina’s shoulders tightened, drawing her further forward, and Sylvanas dipped to begin scattering kisses above her breasts. Jaina fisted the soft material of Sylvanas’s hood at first, then grew frustrated with it and yanked it back, barely taking enough care to make sure Sylvanas’s ears didn’t get caught in the holes.
“You’re cruel,” Jaina growled.
“Mm?” Sylvanas lifted her head, and Jaina was mildly horrified, but also strangely thrilled, to see that her mate held the crown of her ever-present anchor pendant between sharp, gleaming teeth. Sylvanas tugged, causing the chain to dig into the back of Jaina’s neck, before allowing it to fall back against her sternum. “I thought I was being quite sweet and indulgent, actually.”
Jaina didn’t take the bait. Instead, she rocked her hips, hoping to start some kind of rhythm, and maybe take more of the tendril’s thickness inside her. This time, Sylvanas didn’t tease. She pushed, and the white-hot feeling coursed through Jaina again, forcing a needy cry from her throat.
It only broke off when one of the tendrils around her shoulders reached higher, winding carefully up her neck. Jaina’s breath cut off before it actually squeezed, purely from anticipation, but she shuddered and clenched around the tendril inside her when it did. Not enough to cut off her air or blood supply—Sylvanas never took that risk—but applying the gentlest of pressure, to remind her it was there. To make it abundantly clear that Sylvanas could squeeze harder, if she wanted.
Just the threat was almost enough to make Jaina come embarrassingly early. Instead of seeking more, she tried to stop the rhythm she’d started, hoping to save herself further humiliation. But Sylvanas’s hands continued guiding her in a slow rocking motion, cupping her ass with those clawed gauntlets. Her mouth returned to Jaina’s breasts, mapping the freckles there.
“Fuck,” Jaina mumbled, shuddering at the cool glide of Sylvanas’s tongue against her sternum. It left a chilled trail behind, and she tensed as Sylvanas latched onto the peak of her nipple. The first suck sent a jolt straight between her legs. She clenched around the length of tendril coiled inside her, swallowing against the other one around her throat.
Sylvanas squeezed and pumped with both, still abundantly careful, but maintaining perfect control. She tugged the tip of Jaina’s breast, then let go to nuzzle the slick-stiffened peak with her lips.“You look quite lovely like this,” she whispered against it, close enough for Jaina to feel her breath. “So obedient. So open for my use.”
It wasn’t precisely true. Aside from climbing onto Sylvanas’s lap when ordered, and parroting a reluctant please, Jaina couldn’t recall being obedient since entering the throne room. She accepted the praise anyway, sipping shallow breaths and spilling soft noises. Even though Sylvanas hadn’t cut off her air supply, she felt noticeably dizzy—probably because the tendril inside her seemed to have grown thicker , if that were possible, and moved in a way she couldn’t describe. It was more of a massage than a thrust, and it knew exactly where to apply pressure.
She barely had time to get used to it before the tendril around her throat curled higher, caressing her cheek like a whisper of cool breeze. It condensed, taking on the same shape and oily texture as the tendrils around her arms and between her legs. It pressed against her lips, seeking entry not unlike Sylvanas’s tongue, and Jaina opened automatically.
Like the rest of Sylvanas, it smelled and tasted of arcane magic, a cold and biting flavor that Jaina had become all the more fond of since taking Sylvanas as her mate. She had never minded it before, during her studies in Dalaran, but now she associated it strongly with Sylvanas and sex, and tasting it felt like swallowing an icicle on a blistering hot day. She sucked and swallowed eagerly, and Sylvanas laughed.
“You might want to save some of that enthusiasm for my cock later. I’m far from finished with you.”
Jaina was far too involved to process Sylvanas’s words. She whimpered and moaned around the tendril in her mouth, spilling still more wetness over the thicker one buried inside her. She rocked forward in search of relief, but the more the squirmed, the more Sylvanas tormented her. The tendril started to withdraw, and Jaina nearly sobbed.
“Ah ah,” Sylvanas said, still with a note of laughter in her voice. “Stay still and be good, and I promise to make you come.”
Jaina tensed from head to toe. It was almost impossible to resist writhing and squirming in Sylvanas’s lap, to prevent herself from fighting her mate’s icy grip—not because she wanted to escape, but because she hungered for more. Rather than plead with words, she summoned all her will and forced herself to go limp, trusting that Sylvanas would take care of her instead of committing the ultimate cruelty.
“Are you sure you still desire my assistance?” Sylvanas asked, eyeing Jaina up and down. Although Jaina couldn’t see past the swell of her abdomen, she felt how Sylvanas’s gaze lingered between her legs, to where she knew the tendril must be stretching her to an obscene degree. “You did say you and your own hand ‘got on fine’ mere minutes ago.”
The tendril withdrew from Jaina’s mouth, and instead of answering the question, she found herself chasing after it, until the lower portion around her neck prevented her. “No—I mean, yes! Fuck, just…just… fuck. ” She couldn’t remember any other words besides ‘fuck’, but that seemed to do the trick. Sylvanas didn’t require any further eloquence from her—only obedience. A moment later, the tendril between her legs started moving, and Jaina let loose a wail loud enough to do a banshee proud.
It seemed Sylvanas had merely been toying with her this whole time, because it only took a few smooth, precise movements of the tendril to send Jaina hurtling over the edge. She would have continued screaming, except the other tendril had slithered back into her mouth, muffling the noise and making her forget how to breathe again. Not that she needed to. The rush of heat and pressure around the cool thickness inside her was far more important.
The strength of her peak left her dazed, and it was a good thing Sylvanas had hold of her shoulders and rear, or she would have melted into a puddle on the floor. As it was, there was a growing puddle on Sylvanas’s leather breeches instead, significant enough for Jaina’s blurry eyes to see. She was sure the entire room would smell of sex for hours afterward, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
Such a powerful release should have sapped her strength, but it only fueled her need. It had been a week since she and Sylvanas had found pleasure in each other, but it felt like a year, and Jaina didn’t want to stop. She tilted her hips with what little freedom of movement she still had, spreading her legs wider, making an offering of herself.
Sylvanas seemed very pleased with her choice. “I’ve filled you and made you come, and still, you want more? Should I be disappointed that I didn’t completely satisfy you, Lady Proudmoore, or flattered that you can’t seem to help yourself?”
Jaina huffed and continued rocking, trying to take Sylvanas deeper. She had no more patience for her mate’s games, and she could already feel another orgasm building in her lower belly. It wouldn’t take much to come again. Just a little more fullness, a little more movement and pressure…
The fullness did not come where Jaina expected. While the tendril in Jaina’s mouth remained wrapped around her throat, one of the shadowy ropes around her shoulder uncoiled itself, slithering down her back. She shuddered at the sensation, almost like cool water running through the divot of her spine. It applied brief pressure to the two sensitive dimples at the base, then continued to a lower destination, as Sylvanas used her established grip to pull Jaina’s cheeks further apart.
She realized what Sylvanas intended moments before it happened. There was a pause, and Sylvanas established eye contact, clearly asking for permission to continue. Jaina was in no position to refuse—nor did she desire to. Sylvanas only fucked her ass occasionally—mostly because Jaina was far too impatient for it. There were faster, easier ways to achieve the same amount of pleasure, and even though she enjoyed it far more than she had with other partners, any time Sylvanas wasn’t sheathed in her pussy almost felt like a waste.
Not this time. With growing delight, Jaina realized she didn’t have to choose: she could have both. She nodded and whimpered eagerly, sucking the tendril between her lips and rolling her tongue around it to show her approval. She doubted Sylvanas could feel it, but hoped the alpha would appreciate her enthusiasm anyway.
As the new tendril pressed against her rear entrance, Jaina was surprised by her body’s lack of resistance. Perhaps it was because Sylvanas barely applied pressure at first, or perhaps it had to do with the copious amounts of wetness sliding down from her pussy, providing plenty of lubrication. Or it might have been the silky texture of the tendril itself. But there was no pain as it pushed inside her, far thinner than the first, but still offering a delicious stretch.
Jaina’s last thought before Sylvanas started fucking her again was that her mate had been right. This was worlds better than her hand, and she was actually annoyed with herself for not thinking of it, or suggesting it, before.
Being filled twice over made everything a hundred times more intense. Every single one of Sylvanas’s movements, though still slow and deliberate, made her feel as full and thoroughly fucked as the roughest sex she’d ever had. She swore she could feel the tendrils swelling within her, growing in girth, but it was hard to tell while Sylvanas slid in and out, in tandem at first, then alternating to leave her both empty and full at the same time.
That was one of the most frustrating things Jaina had ever felt in her life. She yelped around the tendril in her mouth, and the shadowy coil around her neck tightened, a silent reminder for her to hold still and obey. She did, but mostly because her body had stopped receiving signals from her brain. All she could do was follow the guidance of Sylvanas’s hands on her ass and allow the tendrils to take her.
Jaina came again as soon as Sylvanas’s mouth returned to her breasts. She hadn’t been expecting another climax so close on the heels of the first, but the soft, wet sensation of Sylvanas’s tongue circling her nipple sent powerful ripples radiating out from her core. Sylvanas responded by pushing all the way inside on both fronts, driving as deep as possible, and Jaina’s vision flashed white.
The next thing she became aware of was a slick, squelching sound as the tendril in her pussy withdrew. A considerable gush of wetness followed, but Jaina was far too overwhelmed and hypersensitive to worry about it. Sylvanas had caused this flood, after all, so she had no grounds to complain about it, or the state of her damnably tight leather pants.
Wait. Her pants. She’s undoing them.
As Jaina blinked, trying to clear her head, she noticed that Sylvanas was indeed unlacing her breeches. Her previous patience had evaporated, and she spat Thalassian curses under her breath as she fished her cock out.
Jaina’s brow furrowed. Last she’d remembered, Sylvanas’s hands had been cupping her backside to offer support. Apparently, yet another tendril had taken over the job by winding around her waist, holding her snugly, but careful to mind her abdomen. She shuddered. It was almost as good as being held aloft by Sylvanas’s incredible undead strength.
She didn’t have long to consider it, because the tendrils lowered her into Sylvanas’s lap, and the emptiness within her was swiftly filled. They moaned together as their bodies joined, and Jaina found herself short of breath again—not from the tendril in her mouth, which had withdrawn while she was distracted, or the tendril still inside her, which had thickened and lengthened now that she had adjusted—but because Sylvanas had claimed her mouth in a ferocious kiss.
Jaina found herself overwhelmed again in a matter of moments. Sylvanas’s cock wasn’t nearly as flexible as the tendril in her pussy had been, but it was delightfully thick and familiar, warming rapidly within the welcoming clasp of her muscles. The top of her knot, already inflated to an impressive degree, rubbed against her clit with each movement, and she surrendered to it, trusting the tendrils around her waist to lift her up and down.
It was absolutely fantastic, riding Sylvanas’s cock while double-filled, and without having to do any of the work. Despite being on top, the particulars of the position left her utterly helpless—giving her all the depth such an angle usually provided, but none of the power. All of that belonged to Sylvanas, and she used every bit of it, thrusting her lean hips upward at an almost frantic pace. Any pretense of patience had vanished, and she tore away from Jaina’s lips to bite her shoulder, hard and without mercy.
Though Jaina’s other words had long since devolved into desperate, needy noises, her lover’s name washed over her tongue as naturally as the tide. She said it over and over as Sylvanas fucked her, long and deep at first, then with shallow strokes that made it clear she meant to tie.
Do it, Jaina thought, since she had lost the ability to speak. Knot me. But she couldn’t find her voice other than to moan Sylvanas’s name in broken sobs, so there was nothing to do but wait, hope, and plead silently in her own head.
Tides be praised, Sylvanas was in no mood to deny her. She sank her fangs even deeper into Jaina’s flesh, grabbed her hips with those wickedly clawed gauntlets, and slammed her down without mercy.
Jaina’s eyes snapped open as the widest part of Sylvanas’s knot breached her entrance, then fluttered shut as the intense stretch was replaced with an incredible sense of fullness. Stars burst behind her eyelids, and her final scream was soundless, as though Sylvanas had stolen it from her lungs. She came a third time, rocking over Sylvanas’s lap wildly and without a proper rhythm, like a ship tossed to and fro during a storm.
This time, Sylvanas came with her. Apparently, watching her endure three mind-numbing releases— torturing me with them, more like— had stoked the Warchief’s passion as well. She came with a muffled grunt, throbbing so forcefully that Jaina felt a pulse inside her before the first rush of come hit.
She dipped her head, seizing Sylvanas’s shoulder in a matching bite, digging her teeth into the old scar there. Like the tendrils, Sylvanas’s flesh tasted of arcane magic, and it burned like ice on Jaina’s tongue. She lapped the scarred skin anyway, refusing to let go, but also forgetting to breathe through her nose each time Sylvanas twitched and spilled.
It lasted a long while, long enough for Jaina to enter a suspended state of bliss. Being overtaken by Sylvanas’s tendrils had happened so quickly, but coming down from it was slow, simply because she was exhausted. Her skin dripped with sweat, even though her nakedness should have allowed her to cool, and she whimpered and nuzzled the crook of Sylvanas’s throat each time the knot or the tendril shifted inside her.
Sylvanas removed the tendril first. Jaina gasped as it receded, missing the stretch at first, then sighing with relief as she adjusted. It might have felt like more of a loss if Sylvanas’s knot hadn’t remained nestled inside her, providing plenty of fullness on its own. “I should’ve thought to ask for that before now,” Jaina mumbled, breathing heavily against Sylvanas’s neck.
“Sex in general,” Sylvanas asked, “or something more exotic? Not that it matters…”
“Both.” Jaina was pleased to note that her annoyance with Sylvanas had long since vanished, replaced with a much milder annoyance at herself. “I should’ve told you I didn’t want you to leave.”
“Mmm.” Sylvanas gave a noncommittal hum. “Perhaps. But you are stubborn, and I might have guessed that you wouldn’t want to be left alone in a dry, hot, foreign city that used to hate you, while seven months pregnant.”
“Orgrimmar’s not foreign,” Jaina protested. “I’ve never disliked it here. Well, except for the weather. And there was the time I tried to drown the whole city. But I didn’t—”
“No, you didn’t,” Sylvanas said, stroking Jaina’s hair, “for which I am eternally grateful. I do, however, forget how quickly you humans adapt to new homes. One of your race’s more useful traits, I think.”
Jaina gave a groaning sort of laugh, all she could summon the energy for. “My racial traits are useful? You have incredible strength, you never age, you have those ears and those teeth and that body, and now this—which is going to add an entirely new dimension to our sex life, by the way.”
Sylvanas’s laugh was far lighter and more energetic. “You do amuse me, dal’alah. And I must admit, I enjoy being appreciated once a century or so.”
“Once a century?” Jaina repeated.
“I make no excuses,” Sylvanas purred, bringing her hand down to the curve of Jaina’s belly. “I was always vain, even before my undeath.”
Jaina snorted. “If there’s one time you deserve to be as full of yourself as you are, it’s right now.”
“On the contrary.” Sylvanas gave her hips another light push, causing Jaina to gasp. “I think you deserve to be full of me. Unless you find yourself too tired?”
Jaina fixed Sylvanas with a steely, determined look. That was a challenge if ever she’d heard one, and Kul Tiran omegas never backed down when their pride was on the line. “Not at all,” she lied, “but carry me upstairs. My knees are killing me. I have no idea how you manage to sit on such a hard seat all day.”