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I looked in the mirror at myself, at the dress that barely covered my assets. This fashion was typical of the Night Court. I wish I had my cloak. My hair was loose and straight, reaching my hips in silky satin threads. The moonlight entering through the window gave it a violet-greyish hue.
The lack of fabric exposed the markings covering my body, usually hidden under my shadows and hair. After so many years of no new one appearing, I stopped looking for one in the mirror.
"I don't know why you hide them so much," I gasped, startled as hands settled around my waist. To my surprise, I didn't cower away from the touch. If anything, my body leaned into the muscled chest behind me.
"They are gorgeous," the voice—male, eerily familiar—said, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips to kiss my knuckles. "And you are drop-dead gorgeous."
Shyly, I'd never been this shy. I looked at his eyes in the mirror. His eyes were the only thing I could distinguish, just the shape. Their colour, which I didn't doubt would complement his handsome voice, was blurry like the rest of him. He was a shadow, an outline of darkness. The only thing I could tell was his height. He was tall since he towered over me, and I didn't consider myself petite.
I cursed because his darkness was so alluring that I wanted to be embraced by it. Who was he?
My hair was moved to the side, and I felt his hot breath on my neck. Not the disgusting kind that had made me cringe in the past, but the contact of his lips to my neck made my legs turn into ribbons.
A sound that had become foreign to me threatened to spill out of my mouth as his attached to my neck and started giving open-mouthed kisses. Fuck, that felt so good. Who the Hel was he?
"You like that?" his voice rumbled behind me, and a whine escaped my lips when I lost contact.
"My apologies, my Queen," he whispered, returning to his slow torture, his other hand wandering south.
I didn't know if I was petrified, if I should move, or if the pleasure his touch was giving me was just too good to be true.
A shiver ran down my spine as I felt the pads of his fingers grazing my inner thigh.
This was wrong. So wrong. Why was I dreaming this?
The slightest caress touched my centre, and I thought my mind exploded. A collision of built-up tension and pleasure long-awaited to be released, which I hadn't known I was holding, combined to form a moan.
"Who are you?" I whispered while overwhelmed by the pleasure. My body responded to his touch, and the idea frightened me. I didn't want to move. If anything, I wanted him to touch me more.
His fingers moved the small fabric to the side, and I moaned. It was the first time someone had touched me like this. My breath caught in my throat when his hand snaked around my neck and applied some pressure. Fuck.
His fingers drew circles on my clit, and I could've climaxed right there.
He quickened the pace, and the point of his index finger teased my entrance.
"Tell me what you want, Sombra," his husky voice whispered, his hot breath fanning my ear.
He knew exactly what I wanted. He just wanted me to beg for it. For added measure, he applied more pressure to my neck and core. His hands were magic. My shadows were in a frenzy around me, swirling around us, trying to uncover who that deep voice belonged to.
"I know you want it." My nipples hardened, and my breasts ached.
I hadn't realised that one hand was around the nape of his neck and the other held his arm around me.
My nails dug into his nape, and a groan reverberated in my ear. His hair was so soft, but I still couldn't see it from the little slits I had my eyes opened.
Seeing me like this, and doing this to me, was causing him as much pleasure as me. That fact I inferred from what I could feel pressing against my back. That was a gift as much as his hands.
"Just say the word, I'll treat you like nobody ever has," the knot in my lower stomach was a blink away from releasing.
His hips ground against me when his hand moved lower without leaving my centre unattended. His finger entered me, and I clenched around him, feeling my release unleashing around-
⋆ ⁺ ₊ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ⋆
I hit my head against the bedside table as I rolled. Well, that was interesting. And the first time, he appeared with more than just a voice.
I ran to the bathroom to take a quick shower. I was a mess. My thighs involuntarily pressed together, reminiscing how he had known each of my weak spots. That would be as-cold-as-the-Winter-Court-type of shower.
Coming out of the shower, Laenna opened the door to her room, already dressed for the day but with a sleepy face. She hadn't had breakfast yet. I had learnt that she lived alone. She worked as a seamstress and would rather start the day early than work late at night.
"Morning," I gave her a sheepish smile.
She rubbed her eyes, "I think you were mumbling again in Dayning."
"Dhaenin," I corrected as she smiled. She had been very into learning about new languages and Prythian history.
I didn't think that what she'd heard was mumbling.
More so like moaning, the voice whispered.
I was so embarrassed. A voice in my head made a 4000-year-old immortal blush.
That's not the only thing I did, is it?
I hadn't blushed so furiously in a thousand years.
"Are you okay?" Laenna asked worriedly.
"I was hot and woke up sweating, hence," I gestured to my dripping hair and the towel in my other hand.
"We haven't had heat like this in ages! We could go to the lake or... only if you want to." She suddenly got shy.
"I'd love to, Laenna, but I'll just wear glamour." Her smile beamed so bright that it reassured my decision to stay with her.
゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜゜✧*̣̩☽⋆゜
Hola! That was a steamy, interesting scene, wasn't it? What a dream!
Do not worry. There are more scenes like this to come when Azriel is more in the picture.
