Gifts of the Night [ Bear & Amaril ]

[HeyThereLittleBear]

Incense and expectation hung heavy in the night’s air, both infused with the ancient rituals that were rife with power. She could feel all of it running through her, the heavy humming of the crowd above her chanting in a language that they didn’t understand. It spoke to her, her pulse rich with the power that they were infusing, their words breathing life into her as her heart pounded like the drums in the distance. Their voices were lifted to the night sky as she was beneath them, being prepared for the ceremony to come.

Tonight, she was turning of age to become the sorceress she had been destined to be by the gods, her power nearing its peak now that her body was coming to the end of its transformation from a girl into a woman. Bela had been rich with the powers since she was young, just a babe when she’d first shown the spark of magic in her, able to control the world around her even then. As a young girl she had been brought up not by her parents but by the elders of the craft, honing her skills until she was a force to be feared.

They hadn’t created a woman. They had created a weapon. One of many that had come before her. The older generation was dying, and before the magic was lost they would need a new Queen to rise to power. Today was the first step towards her reign.

Maidens of the craft surrounded her now, their whispers adding to the voices chanting above, though their words known to them. “J’nesst d’yorn, ku’lam ulu yorn. J’nesst d’yorn, ku’lam ulu yorn.” The women circled her, touching her body slowly with their fingertips, brushing slowly across her skin to dimple it with goosebumps, her bare flesh cool even in the hot air. From the group of four, the eldest stepped forward, fingers dipped in dye. Her hand reached out, painting slow lines on Bela’s skin, a deep red in stark contrast to the white of her skin. A dark line was made from cheekbone to cheekbone and across her nose, another from her bottom lip to the bottom of her chin.

Their voices rose in power, the same chant as before but with heavier tones. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as they smoothed her hair, which was as white as snow, until it shined in the dim light of the dancing candle flames. The elder woman had returned, her hands fresh with paint. Her fingers moved slow over Bela’s chest, lines made from her collarbones and down over her breasts to her ribs, another line made from the curve of her ribs and down to her hips, stopping just above the mound of her sex.

“J’nesst d’yorn, ku’lam ulu yorn.” The incense was so strong that her head swam with it, her thoughts hazy as she was helped to stand from the chair, the women touching her skin slowly still, their touch giving and taking power freely. The voices above were becoming louder, almost impatient as they could not see the preparations below. The elder returned for the final marks, her fingers making horizontal lines across her thighs, dots descending down her shins at irregular intervals. The others left, returning with sheer silks in reds and whites, draping them over her body and across her hips. Thick cords weaved from heavy threads was strung about her waist, keeping the silks in place as they let her hair fall free over the makeshift outfit.

Bela’s eyes opened slowly, her lungs breathing in a long and slow breath to take in the last of the incense as the wicks burned low. She moved for the first time in hours of her own accord, bringing one of the women in close. Her body pressed against the other woman, able to feel the woman’s unsteady breathing and shaking hands as her lips pressed against hers, tasting the oils that had cleansed her of impurities. She released the woman, moving on to the next. Again, she grasped the woman, kissing her long and slow. The process repeated to the last one, her maidens taking their place around her as she moved away from them now.

She had been prepared for this night her entire life, told of the ceremony and the importance of the power. Bela could feel it in her feet, through the ground that had been dug so that she could feel the power of the earth. Her eyes moved to the hole that lead her onto the makeshift stage, the humming and chanting voices rising in cadence as she finally stepped into the brighter light of the night.

The moon hung heavy overhead, every bit as full as the night she’d been born, her head tilting back so that she could feel the moonlight on her face, her eyes closing slowly. Their chant rang in her head, the beat of it pounding in every inch of her soul. “Dalhar d’l’isto. Dosman zhah il, jhal satiir ilta xal. Dalhar d’l’isto. Dosman zhah il, jhah satiir ilta xal.” They were nearly screaming the words - men, women, and children alike. Despite the fact she was the most physically vulnerable and clothed only in silks, she had never felt more powerful in her life.

Her maidens drew her forward, tugging her hands until she stood in the center of a circle of torches, where the true elder of the Magics stood. The man was old, hunched by the years of power and age that hung heavy on his shoulders, his eyes long gone milky and hands spotted. He stood before an altar, which held a small array of items - a pair of bracelets that were made of a heavy and dark metal, a large skull of a bear, and a set of oils in small bowls.

As Bela was brought to the altar, the crowd’s voice became low until it diminished, leaving only the humming of those still murmuring the chant beneath their breath. She could still feel their power, her hands twitching with it and body thriving with activity. She’d never felt so charged in her life, her body feeling so full that she couldn’t decipher if she would expand or explode with it. The man waved his hands to silence those watching, his eyes settling on where he knew her to be.

“We bring before the people a child of the night, gifted by the gods with powers unimaginable.” Her maidens stepped away, she knew to retrieve the man that she was to be partnered with. “Today she stands before you just a girl, potential untapped. We offer her to the gods here tonight, a woman, ready to follow where her powers take her.”

She could hear the maidens behind her, a fifth set of feet that were sure to belong to her knight. The Elder grasped her wrist, sliding the first of the heavy bracelets onto her arm. “The weight of the shackles is a reminder,” He slid the other onto her other arm, his hands cold against her skin as he grasped her in a grip so tight his knuckles were white, “A reminder that she is a servant as much of a leader.” He moved now towards the oils, dipping his fingers into it, putting that oil to her lips slowly.

The oil tasted vaguely of lavender, an herb that cleansed and purified, but also of sage, known to ward away evil spirits. “May the oils cleanse her.” He called out, his hand moving now to the skull, lifting it and holding it up to the crowd. The chant came again, only one repeat of it. The skull was lowered onto her head, a perfect fit to her surprise. She could feel the spirits of the creature, powerful and fierce. “May the spirits guide her.”

He turned now to the newest arrival, a knight that had been trained to protect her, or at least one of her kind. He had been selected so that he would do anything to keep her safe, even if it meant his life would be in danger, or possibly ended. “May her knight protect her.”

 

[Amaril]

Taryn didn't consider himself a pious man.

He had been once, in his childhood. His gods-fearing parents had made sure to instill him with the proper reverence, and he'd never really questioned it--why would he? He'd listened to the chants, studied the Old Tongue, resisted the urge to look away during sacrifices on feast days. He still did all those things, because everyone else did and it was easiest to just go along, but it had been a good few years since he'd really believed them. No one moment had made him lose his faith. It simply felt like a part of growing up, learning the truth of the world. The gods didn't really listen to the chants, or bless in return for the sacrifices, because the rituals weren't for them: they were for humanity, to turn to when life was cruel and they needed hope to keep living.

Even so, standing up at that altar, breathing the incense and surrounded by the voices, and looking at Bela, it was hard not to feel something.

She believed--it was obvious. Seeing her there in the torchlight, in paint and silks and bones, she looked every inch the destined queen, all that barely-contained energy visible in her bearing. Not for the first time, Taryn wondered what it was like for her, channeling the Powers. The impossibility of imagining senses he'd been born without. He didn't need to believe in the gods to know that she lived in a world he'd never really understand. But an Aegis' job wasn't to understand their charge's world--it was to worry about their own, so the sorcerer didn't have to. Taryn found that easy to accept. His world was enough, as long as he could make a difference in it for the better. That was something an Aegis could do. Especially the Queen's.

It still didn't seem real. Out of all the aspirants, the best and brightest, she'd chosen him.

He felt the hand on his shoulder, nudging him forward. Knuckles whitening on the hilt of the old ceremonial sword to keep his hands from shaking, he began the long six-step journey up to the altar, where his new Queen waited. Even though she was hardly any more dressed than him, he still managed to feel exposed before her and the rest of the crowd, the white silk kilt his only protection besides the paint markings on his face and bare chest.

He reached the altar. His eyes met Bela's, and he wondered which she'd see, the fear or the pride. He chanced a look at the Elder, who gave him a nod. Come on. You've practiced this a hundred times. He knelt and bowed his head, dark bangs falling into his eyes, raising up the sword and offering it to her.

"Dalhar d’l’isto, dalhar d'l'yorn, dalhar d'kulam, tir sataal ita d'l'kol..." His lips formed automatically over the rehearsed chant. "By the Moon and the Tree and the Dragon, I pledge all that I am to your service. My strength, my honor, and my life shall belong from this night forth to you. Your word shall be my only code, your vision, my commandment and guide. This I swear in the sight of the gods, and the night stand witness." There--that was it. Now all that was left was to await her answer...

OOC

Holy crap, that's one hell of a starter. Hope this is okay!

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

Bela couldn’t see her knight as much as she could feel him next to her, the power of his being making her feel a new swelling in her chest, the powers in her body expanding to a point that was near painful. She could feel his pride and smell his fear, her nostrils flaring as she turned her attention - her full attention - to him, her mouth opening to let out a quivering sigh as he spoke. It was pain, sweet agony, to hold in all of the strength that she had, her body shaking where she stood as she watched him lower himself to her, his weapon offered.

The crowd around them had calmed into a hush as she hovered over him, on the precipice of the greatest choice in her life. Now, if never, was the time when she could turn away from it all and take the life of an Elder or a Maiden instead of a Sorceress. She was drunk on power, too far gone to teach and too incensed to maintain her purity to be a Maiden for life. There was no hesitation as her hand slid down to his blade, running her palm across it until her palm wept with blood.

“‘Zil dos sslig’ne uns’aa, ji l’phraktos xal sslig’ne dos.*” The words were not spoken loud for the crowd to hear, but spoken soft as if she were murmuring words of love to him instead of following ceremony. Her finger dipped into her blood before she pressed her thumb against his lips, her eyes seeming to glow as the blood smeared across his skin. She felt a push then, not from any physical hand but from one that would forever remain unseen, her body compelled to act outside of ritual.

She felt like a puppet as she, too, lowered herself into the dirt onto his level, her silks gathering about her knees as she leaned in close to her. Her hands grasped either side of his face, her eyes transfixed on his, “Natha belbol whol dos, d'aron. Naerden. Z'reninth.**” She closed the space between them, her lips brushing against his. It was strong now, the force driving her, pushing her to do something she didn’t fully understand. Her lips burned where they touched him, and she felt the power rise in her, the burn becoming so intense it felt like her mouth was crackling on him.

As her lips pressed against his fully she felt it, the resistance disappearing from her as her power finally stopped pressing from her insides and turned to flowing, easing itself from her and into him. It wasn’t by any means all of her power, but a brief glimpse for him into her world, her lips pulling from his only seconds after, as if he’d struck her. Her breathing was harsh now, as if she’d run a distance, her eyes wild as she stared at him, half excited and half confused.

The Elder continued the ceremony without them, turning his back to the moment that had surely been blessed by the gods, his arms raising to the crowd. “The gods have decided. The knight is chosen.” He let his arms fall now, the crowd watching him as his voice fell low, “Tonight, they will pair. The gods be with them. Tomorrow, we bid them farewell.”

Translations

*As you protect me, may the gods protect you.
**A gift for you, knight. Breathe. Believe.

 

[Amaril]

A bit of the tension drained away as Taryn felt Bela run her hand along the blade. There it was; she'd gone through with it. He hadn't really expected otherwise, but...well, no matter now. He obligingly lifted his head up and closed his eyes as she lowered her thumb to his lips. The sticky heat of the blood made his stomach twist a little--hardly unfamiliar, but never pleasant.

As quickly as the uncertainty faded, it returned when she knelt to face him. Reflexively lowering the sword, he met her eyes with confusion, struggling to parse her unfamiliar verse. What's she doing? This isn't part of the-- His thoughts were cut off as, before he could draw back or do anything else, her hands were on his face, and then their lips were together.

For a second, her skin burned like she was on fire, and then he felt...he couldn't put it into words, even in his head. There were none for it. He wasn't sure whether he'd closed his eyes or just gone blind, the torchlight rang like silver bells, the ground rolled away and they were underwater, leviathans the size of cities rushing by at the speed of high winds, each one a chanting voice, and then she broke the kiss, and they were back, and Taryn felt like he'd just run for an entire day without rest. He hardly heard the Elder's words as strength left him; his head landed on Bela's shoulder, and he clung to her for support, head spinning, panting for breath.

A detached part of him realized he'd just been channeled through. He tightened his grip on Bela, suddenly feeling as though they'd shared something profoundly intimate. It was a good thing his part of the ritual was over--he doubted he'd have the strength to stand for a while. Gods...and we haven't even gotten to bed yet...

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

Bela could feel the eyes on her as she gathered herself again from the push of the gods, her limbs shaking like a newborn calf as her knight, the one supposed to be strong, leaned on her for support. Her hands grasped his chin, lifting his head, “Gather your strength to walk. Now is not the time to linger.” Despite the intimacy that they had shared that had been something so far from anything she’d experienced, her voice was without affection, her eyes once again a slate wiped clean from any expression she’d felt before.

It was too important of a night for her to get swept away by a small moment in the overall grand scheme of things. Rituals were to be performed, both publicly and privately. The next part there was no preparation for, as it was the one thing they would never practice beforehand. The ceremony of pairing a knight to his sorceress was every bit as binding as a wedding, though the magics that were given to each of them were of ancient laws, blessed by the gods only the contract was sealed between the two of them. Until her coming of age, Bela had not been touched by man nor pleasured by woman. Sex had been strictly forbidden, even so much as touching herself.

She was the first to rise, her silks flowing around her and tickling her skin as she came to her feet. Her eyes swept the crowd, which was slowly dwindling in respect to the couple that were soon to leave. “Do your duties, knight. Take me to join beneath the gods.” A room had been prepared for them, not far off from where the ceremony was being held, one of the only rooms without a roof, the gaping hole just above a large feather-filled bed covered in the finest silks and furs of the land. The moon was the only illumination in the room, and it was bright enough that one could see the floor was strewn with petals of a lavender and purple sage.

 

[Amaril]

Bela's voice brought Taryn back. He shook his head clear of the fog, remembering where they were. Right... The exhaustion passed quicker than he'd expected; his legs shook, but he found his feet. Turning to the Elder, he bowed and offered the bloodied sword. As the old man took it, Taryn thought he saw him give an encouraging nod. But he might have imagined it.

He tried to think of things to say as they headed for their prepared bed, the sounds of the dissipating crowd fading away behind them. Nothing felt right. The reality of what they were about to do only now began to sink in. Aspirant Aegis weren't held to the same standards of celibacy as future sorcerers, but they might as well have been, spending so much time training that they hardly had a moment to explore such matters. Taryn doubted he knew any more than Bela did. Would he be good enough? Did she even really want to do this with him? She'd chosen him, but had that just been for his skill, with this part an inconvenience?

He'd never imagined this would be so tense--and he'd imagined it a lot, over the years.

The darkness of the bedchamber made him feel a little safer, once he'd closed the door behind him. He felt less exposed. The bed waited, but he made no move toward it, lingering at the entrance.

"Sorry about that, before" he finally said, realizing he'd probably been out of line collapsing like that. "I wasn't..." He trailed off, not knowing how to finish the thought. "Is it always like that?"

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

The bed lay waiting for her in the center of the room, illuminated by the light of the moon and expectant for the soon to be lovers to complete the last of the ceremony. She expected it all but a knot had formed in her belly, feeling to her like a coiling snake that was ready to strike the fluttering bird her heart had become. The ritual had been something purely spiritual but this experience would be something new altogether. Her eyes moved now to her knight, clothed only slightly more than she. His painted face was handsome, dark hair in complete contrast to her own. He was good looking enough, if she'd been looking for that.

But she wasn't. She could see beyond his physical form to the piece of him that called out to her in the choosing ceremony. He'd been scared then and scared still now of what was to come.

"You felt the touch of the gods for the first time. It won't be so powerful after that. Their laws command you and you dared to doubt them. They needed you to believe." Her voice was soft, almost sympathetic towards him. She had not experienced a moment in her memory in which she didn't feel the touch, the soft hum of power through her veins that gave her the ability to perform magic. It was a piece of her as much as the beats of her heart. "When I feel it," Her eyes closed, in reverence, her fingers dancing down her neck and chest, tickling over the thin silks on her breasts and down to her stomach, "It's soft, like a lover. It touches me from the insides and makes my skin feel as if a thousand butterflies dance just above the air. And sometimes..." Her peaceful face fell, eyes opening now somber and heavy, "When the gods act in anger it feels like blades," Her hand twitched into a fist, the ghost of the pain moving over her body, "A million wounds all screaming at once until all I feel is pain and rage until it bleeds from every piece of me."

She took in a breath and released it slow. "But Elder says it takes the great pain to truly experience the great power."

Bela made herself come back to the now, her hands moving away from her body to remove the skull from her crown, setting it aside on the small altar for her belongings. The shackles were not to be removed, but her hands moved to the cord holding her silks together. They shook as the released the knot, the braided cord falling heavy onto the ground. Her eyes were reluctant but they met his after a moment, "I can bewitch you to desire me, if you need, Taryn." The words were hardly above a whisper as she let the silks slide smoothly from her shoulders, revealing herself to him fully. Her frame was lean from fasting, her breasts round and perky on her chest. Her figure was that of an hourglass, though more bottom heavy with her wide hips and muscled legs.

 

[Amaril]

Taryn was torn between embarrassment and awkwardness as Bela waxed poetic. Of course--it made sense now. She'd thought she was proving something to him.

He knew he couldn't say what he really felt, not then. It wasn't anything so simple as not believing the gods existed, or that the Powers were real. Bela wouldn't understand; she'd spent her whole life being told the gods had chosen her, that they guided every step she took. She had no idea what the faith looked like from the outside. But it didn't matter, really. Taryn might not have had faith in the gods, but he had faith in her. That was all they really needed, whatever she thought.

He was saved from having to give his thoughts on the Powers by her shedding her silks. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight. It hadn't been hard to tell what she looked like through the thin garments, but still...

He shook his head. "I don't need that." It was the truth. He didn't say how long he'd fantasized about this--not about her in particular, but she fit right into the image. Every aspirant hoped to be chosen by someone like her, beautiful and wise and respected. If she'd been rare in his imaginings, it was only because he hadn't wanted to get his hopes up too high.

It was new and scary and he didn't know that it wouldn't all end in tears, but still, he definitely wanted her. The speed of his heartbeat was as much from excitement as fear.

Wanting her to see him, he undid the cord holding his kilt up, letting it fall to the floor. In the moonlight, he was a vague silhouette, silvery outlines of lean muscle and skin pulled taut over ribs. The night was hot, but he still shivered as he was left exposed; the nerves and the disbelief in his good fortune kept him from being hard. He stepped toward Bela, a hand starting to leave his side--then stopped, not sure what exactly he'd planned on doing. Instead, he gestured toward the bed, eyes returning to her face with an uncertain look.

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

His words spoke that he was ready to take her as the gods had declared was his right to do, but his actions spoke of a boy that was not quite ready to become a man. He had trained his entire life for the moment that a sorceress would possibly choose him and now he stood before her naked, his cock limp and hesitating. She had been told that men were enraged by the sight of a woman naked but he didn’t touch her, didn’t kiss her. He instead motioned to the bed.

Bela took the hand that had hesitated and closed the space between them instead of leading him to the bed. Her body pressed against his slowly, the warmth of his body against hers was pleasant and wasn’t the burn she’d felt before. The gods were sitting back to allow human nature to take over. She guided the hand in her grasp to her breast, wrapping his fingers around it slowly to make him fondle her. Her other hand reached up to cradle his jaw, her thumb moving along the jaw bone, “Then prove to me you don’t need it.” The words were a challenge, her lips pressing against his soft at first but pressing hard as she pulled him in to the kiss.

Desire was not something she had felt before but she could feel it now, the beginnings of a throb between her legs that demanded attention and a slow ache that was in the pit of her stomach. Just because she had never been touched didn’t mean she didn’t crave it at all, quite the opposite. She didn’t feel anything for him emotionally but there was a connection that was a piece of who she was that wanted him, desired to feel him inside of her. It was easier to think of bedding him when she took out the emotion and let passion rule.

“Take me, Taryn. I am destined for you.” She whispered when she pulled back from the kiss, his taste lingering on her mouth.

 

[Amaril]

Taryn followed along, dreamlike, as Bela pressed against him, guiding his hands. As soon as their lips met, though, he felt the barrier within him crumble. The kiss drove it home: this was really happening. And even if she found it an imposition, she didn't mean to let that stop her.

Almost immediately, Taryn was kissing her back, licking her lips, wonderfully soft. With the hand she'd placed on her breast, he took up the direction, sinking his fingers into the flesh, moving down to circle his thumb around her nipple; the other hand found the small of her back, pulling her closer to him. He was hard in barely a moment, his rising member pressing against her. He could feel the heat of her center.

The need to give it space to reach full size made him pull back, still holding the embrace. No longer uncertain, Taryn left off her breast and took her hand instead, guiding her to the bed. He sat down on the edge, gently pulling her down next to him; his free hand found her cheek, and he leaned in for another kiss, pouring intensity into it right away without wasting more time. On an impulse, he pushed his tongue into her mouth, entwining it with hers; his head swam with the rush, one he liked much better than the touch of the gods.

He broke it off again, but didn't pull back far before his lips were on her cheek, her jaw, trailing down her neck. "Anything you want, just tell me," he found time to say at a half-whisper, as he headed for her collarbone. Whatever Bela did or didn't feel, he wanted to please her. It was his duty--and, he realized, something he needed to do for himself.

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

The spell on him was broken the moment that her lips were against his and she felt his hand on her breast start to move, grasping her and smearing the paint that had up until this point been pristine. She could feel his cock press against her as he swelled with the desire that should have been there from the start, her body responding in a painful clench in her sex. She didn’t just want to seal the contract as it was written by the gods, she wanted to feel what she had been told about, to have the itch she didn’t know existed scratched and to have someone other than an unseen force make her feel something.

Bela was pliant as he lead her towards the bed, taking her seat next to him on the furs that were on the bed. The next kiss was more passionate than the first, his tongue pressing past her lips and into her mouth, met by her own to dance and enjoy each other. He was unlike anything she’d ever experienced, as kisses had been ceremony until this point and she’d never tasted further than oils, her lips hungry on his to experience him. His lips moved from hers then, covering her in their soft touch as they roamed her neck and collar. There was a fire in her rising, nearly painful as the magic that flowed through her veins.

His half-whisper made her lips curl softly into a smile, her body pulling away from him to open the bed furs so that he would be able to move further than just the edge. “I want you to lay down,” Her hand moved to touch his chest, giving him the lightest of pushes before she moved onto the bed herself, moving slowly on her knees and waiting for him to take the place she had made for him in the center of the bed.

She might not have experienced sex before but she had seen it before. It was a heavy theme that was rampant in the belief of the gods, and a key piece of a sorceress coming of age. Those that were gifted with the powers but not enough to be given a knight were paired with an elder. To be united before the gods was a blessing for all of those in the following, and it would increase the power of the girl. Public sex in this occasion was not only a regular occurrence, but also a regular thing that happened. She knew the mechanics of it, and she knew now more than ever what precisely she wanted.

 

[Amaril]

He felt her responding to his kisses immediately, their markings smearing more as she squirmed against him in a way that made him suspect she didn't even realize she was doing it. Taryn couldn't help but grin as she nudged him back, thrilled at the effect he seemed to be having. A spark of hope flared within him that maybe she really did want this, with him and not anyone else; he held onto it.

Her voice curled into his brain like puppet strings, making him dizzy and giddy. "As Your Grace wishes," he chuckled as he obeyed, shuffling over to the center of the mattress and lying back on the pillows. That she seemed to know what she wanted was a relief--he'd rather expected her to want to rely on his experience, and had prepared himself to act as though he knew what he was doing. Instead, it seemed all he had to do for the moment was follow her lead, and he found himself intensely curious to know what she had in mind. The thought crossed his mind that maybe the sorcerers' training included more preparation for this than most were led to believe.

He grinned up at Bela from his place, at her disposal.

 

[HeyThereLittleBear]

Bela watched him as he settled himself down onto the mattress of feathers and furs, her eyes moving over his body slowly. His body was that of a warrior, rife with muscles but still lean enough that she could see his bones peak out in some areas. Her hand reached out slowly, tracing down one of the lines that had been on his chest, her fingers feeling the swells and valleys his ribs before dipping down onto his stomach and following the curve of it to his hip. She wasn’t sure if it was magic or desire that made her fingertips tingle when she touched him, her body feeling oddly warm and euphoric. She was ready.

She moved one leg over his body in a smooth movement, her long hair brushing softly at his thighs as she straddled him now, her gaze moving slowly back up his body until she met his face. Her hand reached out to take his, guiding it back to her breast as she offered him only a slow smile. There wasn’t love in her face, but she wasn’t distant as she had been throughout most of their encounters. She was present in the moment instead of caught up in the whispers of another world that played through her.

“I take you before the gods.” She murmured softly, her hand moving from holding his on her breast to wrap around his cock slowly, stroking him very slowly from base to tip, letting just the very tip of his cock rest against her lips. She could feel the warmth of his head against her, her stomach full of butterflies. It was the last chance she had to back away from him. Instead, she lowered herself slowly down onto him, his head pressing into her slowly, her walls hugging tight around his shaft.

Bela let out a soft gasp, feeling her sex grow tight until the point it felt like she would split before she felt pain - brief but intense - a small trickle of blood indicating that she had been broken. The pain passed and gave way now to pleasure, her sex stretching to accommodate his girth as she felt her body meet his, the very tip of his cock rubbing against her cervix as she ground her hips slowly against his own, enjoying the feel of him deep inside of her.

She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, taking a moment to enjoy the way it felt to have him so deep in her before she moved, raising herself up off of him slowly so that she could feel his cock slide back out, letting just his tip stay in before she moved back down. She moved slow at first, letting her body get used to the feeling of it all and enjoying the sensations, her breathing heavy and uneven.