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Oak Father preserve him, he was smitten already. It hadn’t even been two weeks yet.
Halsin paced outside of camp, winding through the thick, hearty oaks that lined the party’s tents, and disappeared soon into the dark woods close by. The night was still young, yes…but Gale was three glasses of wine in already, Lae’zel was in the midst of her evening meditations, Shadowheart was buried in a book, and Wyll and Karlach were in happy conversation as they picked at the remnants of that night’s meal. Astarion had disappeared, likely to hunt, as had the other Druid in their party.
Neela. The subject of Halsin’s fascinations, and borderline obsessive thoughts.
He raked a hand back through his mess of hair, yanking the ties that held it back free, and allowing his ruddy brown hair to hang loose and wild. He’d discarded his boots back in camp, his feet aching for bare contact with the earth below him. Traveling did not lend itself well to bare-footed walking, and so he was forced to wear boots, which he was unaccustomed to; the Archdruid often found himself with aching feet these days because of it. These stolen moments he’d been taking in the night to walk about barefoot in the forests and fields were welcome.
…And he’d been stealing more moments than not, since he’d met Neela. A half elf, her form boasted more of elven elegance than the thickness of humans. She was lithe and light on her feet, with sun-kissed caramel skin, and chestnut hair cut into a short pixie. Upon her skin were inked tattoos of wild, flowing patterns; strong tree branches, leaves and bushes, sweeping waves and roots that stretched beneath her clothes, to places Halsin could never see. Her eyes changed so often that the Archdruid wasn’t quite certain which color was the true hue. Most often they were green, a deep forest green that rivaled a healthy pine, but when she’d cast spells, Halsin noticed them flash to a hazelnut brown. It never remained the same for long, and this fascinated him.
…One of many things. She was the reason he’d taken to wandering about the woods night after night. Not in search of her, but in search of solitude. Quiet. Privacy. If he remained in camp, she’d eventually return and he’d end up spending the nights stealing glances, suppressing the itch in his fingertips as they ached for the texture of her skin, or getting lost in baser fantasies that made him feel filthy…and not in a good way.
He was an Archdruid, for Silvanus’s sake. He should have better control over his thoughts, his body, his emotions than this. Over three hundred years he’d walked this earth, but in more ways than one, Halsin still found himself akin to an easily riled youth, forced to sneak away and tug himself off to relieve the pressure and ache that built in his groin at a moment’s notice. He often felt incapable of controlling himself around her, and he wasn’t certain if that was due to his more bestial nature, or if something about Neela was…different, than the others he’d lain with.
She was almost ethereal, in a way. She rarely spoke to any of the party save for what needed to be spoken, but the few times he’d caught her alone in the forests and fields, she’d speak freely to the insects and plants, the animals she’d come across, as though she was more comfortable with them than she was with her own species. While the others in the camp kept armor close every night, Neela shirked it in favor of a leather bandeau and thin, flowing skirts, as though she had no fear of them being beset in the night by ne'er-do wells, and favored the freedom that came with less clothing to restrict that soft, caramel skin.
Just as nature intended.
“Silvanus save me…” Halsin grumbled, reaching up to run his mitt down his face, to rub thumb and finger against his eyes, as though they were somehow the cause of his wandering thoughts. It had returned again, damn it all. That persistent ache. That gnawing urge, twitching behind leather chausses and demanding his attention.
Perhaps a swift dunk in the river would shock his body back into submission, at least for the night. A good night’s rest might help focus him for the next day’s adventures. A pretty lie, but one that he convinced himself of as he turned towards the nearby bank. His fingertips curled into the hem of his tunic as he lifted it, stripping off piece by piece of his Druidic armors the closer the river got. The earth below his feet grew spongy and soft, the grass cool between his toes, soothing his sore feet.
In truth, there was more to his infatuation with Neela than simple physical instinct. It was there of course, gods was it there, but it wasn’t all he’d found so captivating about her. He just wanted to know her. To learn her. The curves of her body and the texture of her skin, yes…but the dreams she held. Her desires and wants and wishes, her goals and what drove her. And perhaps an answer to why her color shifting eyes always looked so sad. He knew precious little about the half-elf; only that she shared the same affliction of the tadpole that the others in the camp did, and that she hailed from another of the Druid groves far to the south. How she came to be abducted by the mindflayers was a mystery and who she was before this fate befell her, equally as obscure. But he wanted to find out.
Only a dozen yards or so more to the riverbank, Halsin slowed. A sound had reached his ears that wasn’t of the forest. No bug or beast made this sound, nor did a birdsong compare to the melody it carried. Her tone was warm and soft, the song elven as it left her lips.
There, in the river up to her hips, was Neela. And she was singing. And bathing.
And naked.
He had nowhere to hide. If he tried to tuck tail and get back out of sight, she’d surely hear him. If he wildshaped, she’d surely see. He felt every bit the perverted fool he thought himself to be as he stood at the bank, clothes heaped in his arms, naked himself and with a half-masted cock as he stared. No, there wasn’t any escaping it. Best to simply speak, announce himself, and apologize from the get go.
Just as he was about to, Neela had turned and caught sight of him.
“Halsin?” she asked, her voice even and gentle, even here. “...Is everything alright?”
Gods above, she didn’t even make a move to conceal herself. The moon backlit her with a kiss of silver light, and the outline it crafted on her skin stole his breath. She was…so beautiful.
“Ah, y-yes,” he stammered, quickly wadding his clothing up to hold it in front of his groin. To conceal, the best that he could. “Forgive me, I, uh…did not realize you were here.”
It made the woman chuckle. “Have you come for a bath as well?” she asked, innocent and sweet. “Come, join me. The water is chilled, but feels lovely once adjusted to.”
His eyes widened. “Ah, I…appreciate the invitation, Neela, but…well. I…” Damn it all, he could barely form a sentence properly. Focus, Halsin. “I would not wish to disturb your solitude. I’ll find someplace else.”
Neela waded towards the shoreline, rising up a bit more from the water with each step. “Nonsense. Come, I have soaps and oils. Knowing you, you’d likely scrub with tree bark and call yourself clean.” She beckoned with a hand. “...It’s alright, Halsin. Truly. I’m not ashamed – you shouldn’t be either. We were born bare. It is our most natural state.”
The wisdom this woman held while still being one of the most enigmatic and spellbinding creatures he’d ever met never ceased to baffle him. She was right; there was no shame in nakedness. And sharing space with another who was bare as well showed a great deal of trust, he realized. She’d humbled him without even meaning to, and he felt an ease work down over his shoulders, softening him. Tension and embarrassment melted away.
He tossed his garments into the grass and waded into the water, hissing in a breath as its sharp chill worked across his heated flesh. He took a plunge, dunking himself beneath the surface to soak every inch, then stood to his full height again and slicked back his thick, russet-brown hair, and turned his amber gaze to her. Taking a moment to simply…look. To take her in.
She’d scooped up handfuls of water and was drizzling them over her flesh in rivulets. Across her shoulders, her back, down her arms, coating her breasts. The scent of lilac and rosemary wafted from her, an enticing mixture that drew his eyes to the soap on a rope that she clutched in one hand. Noting his stare, she smiled sweetly, and offered him the bar.
“Here,” she encouraged, and he caught her gaze casting over his body, just as he’d done to her. “...You’re rather filthy, you know.”
A sheepish grin spread his lips and he took the bar, nodding his acknowledgement. “I suppose cleanliness does not always sit as high on my list of priorities as it should.”
Neela dunked herself down in the water, slicking her hair back once she emerged. “Well, when one spends the majority of their time as a grizzly bear, I suppose they cannot be fully blamed.” She chuckles. “...I’ve always favored avian shapes, myself.”
“Is that so?” he asked, lathering the soap in his hefty palms before beginning to scrub. “Which is your favorite?”
“A raven, typically,” she replied, reaching for the bar back to lather it herself, and work the suds into her hair. The swell of her breasts once her arms were overhead enticed his gaze once more. “I find they’re common enough that most folk don’t spare a second glance. And the raven’s eye is far keener than mine. I’ve learned much about many things, many people, while in that shape.”
She offered the bar back to the Archdruid, and he continued his work. “Like what? If you do not mind my asking.”
She mused a moment, shifting away from him just a few steps, her gaze cast upwards towards the sky. “Well…it’s how I first learned of Astarion’s affliction. I watched him hunt and drink a fox dry.” Her hands smoothed back her hair once again, and she dipped down into the water so it crested over her breasts. “I’ve learned that Karlach cries herself to sleep, some nights. Craving touch so badly that she hugs herself tight, and weeps for what she can’t have. I’ve learned Shadowheart’s nightly prayers, Lae’zel’s battle meditations. I’ve learned that Wyll has a penchant for poetry.” She looked back at him over her shoulder. “...And I’ve learned the reasons why you leave the camp at night.”
With that, Halsin’s hands stilled, still slick with lilac soap, and his gaze caught hers. “...You have,” he said, more as a statement than a question.
“Mm,” she assented, wading closer. “I’ve taken in the contours of your back…the way they move and shift as your hands move over your body. I’ve heard the sounds you make. …The way your breath hitches. The growls that pour from your lips, the closer you get.” Her lower lip curled between her teeth, and she grinned at him cheekily. “...I’ve watched the way you come apart since the first time you did so, in our camp.”
Halsin’s gaze was transfixed. His tongue felt thick, his mouth dry. A flush had colored his cheeks, and his toes were curling into the silt at the floor of the river. She…had watched him? She’d watched him chasing pleasure, lost in thoughts of her, and hadn’t shied away from him? He couldn’t seem to find words.
She continued. “It wasn’t intentional at first, though. I…merely followed you that first night, to ensure you weren’t a danger. You were still a stranger to us, then. I didn’t know if you were safe to have around. And leaving camp so abruptly, without a word, seemed suspicious to me.” She waded closer, rising up from the water so her breasts crested atop the surface. His gaze flicked down, incapable of resisting, and took in the way her nipples stiffened under the kiss of the evening air. He swallowed hard.
“...But once I found you, and saw what you were up to,” she murmured softly, reaching up to take the soap from his hand, and discard it towards the shoreline. “...I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t stop watching…looking. Listening.” Her fingertips graced his flesh, smoothing along the slick slab of his chest and combing through the soaked hair that sat across that broad surface. “Each time you leave…I follow. Hoping that you might indulge yourself again.” She licked her lips, her gaze flicking up to meet his. “...Hoping I might get another glimpse.”
His cock raged beneath the surface of the water, pulsing in time with his racing heart. Her words were like kindling to the fire that burned beneath his skin, and it took every ounce of restraint he had in his body to keep from throwing her to the shoreline to take her, right there. She had to know what she was doing to him. She had to realize how her words were making him burn.
…Perhaps that’s what she wanted.
“Why me?” he heard himself ask, his tone husked and rumbling in his chest. “...Surely there are others…surely Astarion, or Gale…We barely know one another.”
Neela chuckled, her hands both traveling in a slow, torturous glide up his chest, to cup his shoulders and squeeze. “...I don’t know, really. They just don’t call to me, the way that you do.” She licked her lips slow, moistening their plush surface before she caught his gaze again, her eyes burning with an unspoken craving. “...Perhaps it is because we are kindred spirits. I can’t say.”
He finally managed to trust himself enough to move. He stepped closer. Just one step, just close enough to be within her warmth. Even in the chill of the water, her proximity felt like the heat of a hearth. He was right – she was burning just as he was. But did he dare to give in to such a base need? She was so pure in so many ways, and she deserved more than a half-crazed rut on the edge of a river, coated in grass and silt.
He swallowed again, looking down at her, his gaze molten amber. “I’m almost frightened to touch you,” he admitted, his gaze sliding over her shining skin. His tongue longed for her taste. Her flavor. “...If I give in, Neela, I…may not be able to stop until I’ve devoured you.”
She leaned closer, dangerously close. Her hand crept to fold around the back of his neck, and drew him down towards her. His eyes rolled and he rumbled a deep, needful growl as her words came to his ear, her breath warm.
“Don’t be frightened,” she whispered, reaching for his hand to place it on her hip. Encouraging his touch “...Touch me, Halsin. Please.”
Thick fingers curled around her slender hip, squeezing. Gripping. “Almost frightened,” he corrected her, his voice a rasping purr. “If you feel my pulse quicken…it’s not from fear.” His free hand mirrored the first, pawing at her side and gliding up to clutch at her ribs, to pull her closer. To guide her lithe, slender body against the broad strength of his torso. He saw her eyes widen as his length wedged up against her belly, thick and hot.
“Come,” he told her, curling his finger up beneath her chin, to tilt her face up towards his. “...Feel for yourself.”
The mewling sigh that poured from her lips into his as he drew her kiss in was all the confirmation he needed. She wanted this. She craved it just as fiercely as he did. And so his lips curled and pulled, drawing against hers with a fierce intensity that told of his intent. To devour, just as he’d said. To drink down her taste like the wine he so often denied, and indulge himself in what he truly wanted.
Her fingers crashed into his hair and she clutched him tightly, sucking down each kiss from his hungry lips and demanding more with eager swipes of her tongue. Halsin groaned, curling his mitt around the back of her neck and head to cradle her, and tilting his own head to deepen the kiss even further, to snake his tongue into her mouth and greet its partner properly. His free hand gripped and squeezed, groped and molested her skin anywhere it could reach; her ribs, her backside, up and down her back, before eventually landing on her thigh, and drawing it up to hook at his hip.
She obliged eagerly, curling her knee around his waist and hugging herself against him tightly, her pelvis tilted up to where his aching length stood trapped between their bodies. It nestled firmly against her core, and gods above, he could feel the heat of her, the slickness that clung between her lips, even in the river. He could not resist the way his hips shifted, the way they pumped forward to slide his cock against her slit. It felt as though his body moved without his knowledge, chasing after a desire so great, it was inescapable.
He wanted to fuck her. To rut her so fiercely, she’d bruise. To take her the way a hound takes a bitch in heat, and lose himself in her body. He wanted to surrender at last to the gnawing ache in his core, the one that brought so many filthy fantasies to his mind and stole so much of his focus. And now, with the way she pawed at him and matched the grinding roll of his hips with her own…he knew that he could.
But not before he’d indulge in her pleasure, first. He drew away from her thirsting lips just long enough to take a breath, both hands descending to grip at the backs of her thighs, and lift. She felt nearly weightless to him, and he hoisted her up and out of the water, turning towards the bank. Her legs wrapped themselves at his waist, and Halsin groaned as the head of his length brushed so close to her entrance. He knew she wouldn’t complain if he simply speared her on his cock right there, bucked up into her with all the reckless abandon he could muster, and spilled his spend deep into her core. …But no. Not yet.
He needed a taste, first.
He drew her to the shoreline, easing her back against the grassy earth and coming down over her like a hot, weighted blanket. With great hands framing her face, he held her tenderly and lowered once more to brush his lips against hers, kiss-plumped though they were, and sampled their texture once more. But there was more to explore, more to taste and to feel, and he wasn’t about to let this feast go unsavored.
“So beautiful,” he purred, coaxing a whimper from her lips as his shifted, pressing against her jaw, her neck. Halsin peppered slow, melting kisses against her skin, trailing his tongue in a heavy, wet line down the length of her throat. He nipped at her collarbones, tasting her sternum on his tongue before both hands came to the swell of her breasts, cupping the outer curves and urging them together. He was like a man starved, the way he mouthed at her breasts, sloppy and wild as his lips sucked and kissed, his tongue swirling around each stiffened nipple. He didn’t dare bite them; he did not know her body well enough to know how sensitive she was or wasn’t…and he was nothing if not conscious of another’s limits. And so tender, ravenous affections were offered in place of ferocity, her nipples coaxed to rigid peaks until she was pulling on his hair.
“Halsin, please,” she whimpered, arching her back to press against his mouth.
He looked up from his feast to catch her gaze, and grin. “More?”
Neela chewed her lip and nodded slowly, watching with interest as the Archdruid descended further, carving a searing trail with his tongue over her belly, around her navel, and across her hips. The fire in her eyes was consuming, captivating; he couldn’t look away. Even amidst such a fine meal, it was her eyes that drew him in more than anything else. The passion those eyes held, the way they shone in the moonlight, liquid lust reflecting in her gaze…
It made his cock twitch.
A sharp nip was taken at the edge of her hip bone, mirrored by a second to the other side. His thick, strong arms curled beneath her thighs and hoisted her legs up over his shoulders, and he pawed the insides of her thighs, spreading her wide for his view. Gods above, the scent of her was strong and deep, all sex and musk and warm lilac wafting up to greet his nose.
“Do you taste as good as you smell, little bird?” he asked her, prying his eyes away from her center to catch that sultry gaze of hers once again.
The woman squirmed beneath him, reaching both hands down to cup the lips of her sex, and spread herself open. Revealing the luscious, soaked folds of her cunt, and beckoning him in.
“...Find out for yourself,” she husked back, her lip once more folding between her teeth.
He nearly bared his teeth in a ravenous growl, dipping down to open his mouth wide, and engulf her core within it. Her flavor burst into his mouth with the first sweep of his tongue, silky slick nectar coating it and offering him his first taste. How sweet she was…warm and dripping, and all from him. All for him.
He feasted languidly, pulling her lips between his to suckle slow and deep. His tongue curled between her slit to scoop her essence into his mouth, his nose nuzzling tight against her swollen pearl. She was ripe and ready for him already, but he’d take his time here. She was a feast for all his senses, and he didn’t dare rush. Not with the filthy sounds she made, or how desperately she pawed at his shoulders and head. She pulled at his hair, urging his face this way and that, grinding up into his mouth with clear intent. She chased pleasure on his tongue, and he was all too willing to oblige. Whichever way she guided, he followed. He didn’t know her body well enough to take the reins yet, and she knew her own pleasure better than anyone else.
Only when he felt her start to shake, her grip loosening just enough on his scalp, did he settle down against her in earnest. The lazy laps of his tongue grew more pointed, more intent. His lips honed in around the swollen bud of her clit, suckling just enough to make her tense, then his tongue swirled in slow, easy circles to coax her next moan. He guided the wave of her pleasure to ebb and flow, to give and take. Drawing her near to the peak only to pull back just enough, and make her simmer with need…and then repeat. Again, and again, and again. He edged her climax mercilessly, molten amber eyes peering up to watch the way she writhed beneath his skilled mouth. He could eat her for days.
“Halsin, please…!” she shrieked again, her thighs shaking on either side of his head. She squeezed them in, and his great paws planted against them to hold her open, to hold her steady.
“A bit more, woman,” he rumbled, taking long, languid licks from her puckered hole all the way up to her clit. “You taste so good…I can’t stop...”
His face was an utter mess of her honey; she was so slick that it nearly dripped from his chin. Her scent surrounded him, her body shivering in his grip as he lapped again and again, swirling the tip of his tongue around her clit once, twice, thrice, before dipping back down to press inside of her as far as it could reach. She was nearly sobbing with need now, each mewling sigh a song to his ears. His name rolled off her tongue in a lascivious harmony, strangled moans and desperate whimpers accompanying her vulgar tune. The song he pulled from her.
Lips sealed around her clit as he chased the final crescendo, his eyes fixated on the way her chest heaved with breath. He felt her tense, her cunt tightening below his working mouth, and she erupted into a chorus of shrieking whines and stifled sobs. Halsin growled in turn, tightening his arms around her thighs and opening his maw wide to engulf her slit once more, to curl his tongue past her entrance and draw her slick into his mouth. He wanted to drink her down, to drown in her flavor. And she certainly didn’t lack honey for him to taste.
It was his favorite, after all.
His intensity slowed, his devouring lips melting into slow, gentle kisses to both sides of her quivering sex, his tongue lapping up the final remnants of her gushing climax. He coaxed her down from the rapture, fingertips smoothing upwards over her ribcage, then back down across her belly. Her panting slowed, and she propped weakly on her elbows to look down at him, watching his mouth move between her legs.
“Come here to me,” she whispered, reaching down to caress the side of his face with her fingertips.
The old bear hummed in assent, reaching up to wipe his face before crawling up her form, and settling himself down between her spread legs, and over her torso. He could feel her shivering beneath his weight, and so he lowered to his elbows to drape across her even more.
“Kiss me,” he murmured, brushing his nose against hers. “...know your taste on my tongue.”
She opened her mouth without protest, and his melted down over hers, his tongue curling into her mouth to share her flavor and kiss her deep. Lips tugged and pulled, folding across hers, between them, around them, to kiss her in every way he knew how. Her fingernails raked down his back, her legs hoisting at his hips. His cock ached, drooling preseed against her mound, so much so that he could feel the slickness of it coating his head. He burned for more of her. To feel her from the inside. To fill, and fuck, and take, and give.
With a groan, he pulled from her lips to bend into her neck, his hips curling, pumping his length against her center insistently. Neela gasped, shivering once again, as he pushed so very close to her entrance.
“What do you want?” she whispered to the Archdruid, her lips warm at his ear.
He rumbled another moan. This woman’s words could tear him apart. “To have you. To take you,” he rasped back, angling his hips just enough so that the tip of his cock crested her entrance. He was so close…
“Then don’t make me wait a moment longer,” she purred, her lips closing around the edge of his ear. “Take me.”
A growl tore from his throat, and before he had any sense for slowness, his hips surged forward, his cock driving deep. He spread her open, invading her with his thick, aching length, and sinking in to the hilt on the first thrust. Her eyes shot open wide, her fingers tense at his back, but he could not bear to take his time anymore. She was so tight…too tight for him to last for long, that much he knew.
“If you need me to slow, I will.”
It was all the warning he gave, and when he felt her nod in acknowledgement…he was unleashed. A few slow, testing pumps of his hips soon gave way to deeper, harder strokes. Before long, his knees planted behind her backside, and he was slamming himself into her, taking her with a near savage intensity. Her slickness gave him no resistance, no pause, and no need to take his time. She was ready before he’d even finished devouring her, and his cock fit within her with a grip so tight, it was nearly painful.
Nearly.
“Oak Father save me…” Halsin rasped, bending down to bury his face in the crook of her neck. Just as she’d chased her pleasure on his tongue, he chased his own in her body. His arms curled, heavy and strong, beneath her back and he hoisted her close, holding her brutally tight. Her nails sunk into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he rutted into her like the animal he so often was, taking her at last in the flesh after having taken her so many times in his mind.
“S-So good, so good, so good,” she whined, again and again at his ear, her body crushed beneath his weight. The sound of her voice so close, the warmth of her breath, and the squeeze of her cunt around his aching prick drew him dangerously close to the edge before he knew it.
“Tell me where,” he gasped, pulling back just enough to catch her gaze. The look on his face spoke of his intent, but he said it aloud as well. “Tell me where you want my spend.”
His hips did not slow, nor did the ferocity of his thrusts cease. He wanted to explode…to give himself entirely to the primal urge, and give her every drop of his seed, wherever it was that she wanted it. Liquid hot lust pooled in his gaze at her answer, his jaw going slack.
“Right here,” she told him, her feet driving in against his backside to ensure he did not pull too far. “I want to feel you come apart, inside.”
Halsin groaned, his eyes rolling as his lips descended to her jaw, her neck, teeth sinking into her shoulder. Her words were flint, his body the kindling, and now she’d lit the spark that set him ablaze. Two pumps more, and he felt his sack drawing tight. His cock swelled, his thrusts growing frenzied and sloppy, and his nails bit into her back as he pulled her down onto him, pushing in at the same time to bottom out completely inside of her, and spend deep within her core. His roaring groan echoed between the trees, and he pumped again, and again, chasing every last moment of his rapture that he could grasp. Ropes of thick, warm seed painted her insides, coating every wall and surface until she was full. So full that it dribbled out around his cock and down, coating his sack and dripping onto the grass, marking the earth with their passions.
He came down swift and heavy, catching himself on his elbows and weakly, shakily uncurling his arms from beneath her back. His face, still buried in her shoulder, shone with sweat and his hair stuck in strands to his forehead as he pulled back to look down at her. To assess and take her in.
“Are you alright?” he murmured, smoothing his hands across her cheeks, gazing into her eyes. “I did not hurt you, did I?”
Her eyes were soft, chocolate brown as she gazed right back, a shift away from their typical green. Whatever cantrip she focused on to change them was lost from her concentration, and he took some measure of pride in that. That he could steal her focus so completely.
Her answer came in a kiss, soft and slow, pressed against his mouth. He hummed a low rumble, and returned it in kind, letting his body melt down over hers. Juxtaposed to the ferocity with which he gripped her but moments ago, every touch now was gentle; the glide of fingertips, the skimming of palms. Her nails tickled at his back, her legs tangling around his as he softened within her, spent and sated.
“You’re incredible,” she whispered, smoothing his sweat-soaked hair back from his face. She looked almost in awe of him, in awe of the passion that had come over them both. “That was…breathtaking.”
He chuckled a breathless, sheepish laugh, and rested his brow down against hers. “You’ve no idea how many nights I have chased this feeling…only to fall short. Terribly short.” With a shift of his hips, he slipped free from her and rolled just enough to land at her side. “The reality of you…cannot possibly be compared. Thank you…for sharing yourself with me.”
Neela smiled, her fingertips once again gliding across his back as he draped over her like a blanket, his head resting on her breasts, one leg hooked between hers. He was slick with sweat and so was she, but he didn’t dare pull away. Not yet.
Not until morning’s light forced them apart.