A young woman kissed by the sea finds herself stranded when her ship sinks. Luckily, she has quite a reputation, and luckily, there's another female pirate willing to give her a chance.
{Yara Greyjoy x OC}
I don't own the characters or the plot, t...
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In their gentle bliss, time seemed to not exist, if only for a little while. All there was, was Yara's body against hers, rough fingers laying gently on her stomach, and the flickering candles illuminating her face.
Deema's hands were roaming, exploring every texture, every muscle, every scar, and bump, hoping to memorize it before she had to leave. Yara had a soft smile on her face as her own hand moved to Deema's face, the gentleness unfamiliar and uncharacteristic as she brushed a few strands of hair away from her face.
At that Deema pushed herself closer to the captain, wanting nothing more but to be touched like that again. Everything was different from the first time it had happened; there was tenderness now that the pure lust was gone. For Deema, it had been more about longing, anyway. She wished nothing more than to stay in that moment forever and forget the world had ever existed.
Her fingers ghosted down Yara's back, until she reached a scar, different from the others. "What happened?" It was bigger, longer, and had not healed as well as the others she knew of. She had many scars, a well-lived life, marks of survival. The amount wasn't very comforting, knowing she was going to leave in just a few hours.
"I got stabbed," her breath was hot on her face, Yara's eyes never leaving her face. They were breathing the same air, bodies almost pressed together. It would never be enough. Deema moved her head closer, their noses almost touching.
"Can't say I'm surprised," it was little more than a puff of breath, but before Yara could answer, she pressed their lips together again. It was comforting and slow. The captain pulled Deema closer, who eagerly wrapped her still bare leg around Yara's.
While she would gladly have stayed like that; pillow talk, kisses, and trying to forget what the morning would mean, she couldn't. It would be too complicated, it would mean too much. Once she admitted to those gentle sins, Deema feared she wouldn't be able to go back.
It was easier like that. It was familiar. So, she pressed herself against Yara, allowing the kiss to deepen once more, her hands vanishing in her hair as she rolled over on top of Yara, whose hands rode up her thighs instantly, finding their familiar resting place on her ass as Deema's breathing began to speed up again.
Maybe not what she truly wanted, but how could she ever complain about being in this position?
***
The morning came sooner than later, and as bright morning light filled the room, it became harder to ignore the reality.
While she was still snoozing, Yara leaving the bed made Deema sigh and roll over, watching as the woman got dressed. She was tired, there had been too few hours of sleep, but now that Yara was getting ready to leave, sleep was the last thing on her mind.
