A Conflict of Interest.

The situation was in some ways familiar. Setharia had featured in Nathaniel's dreams since the prince had hit puberty, doing dizzyingly obscene things. But this felt different. There was a raw, erotic intensity to the scene. The extraordinary detail of the beatiful, unfamiliar room added a quality of versimilitude. But most of all, Setharia was more than he had ever imagined -more seductive, more loving, more lustful and somehow even more beautiful.

Under her skilled fingers, the buckles of Nathaniel's belt came undone and his cock sprang free, the thick, swollen head reaching well past the navel of his hard, flat stomach. Setharia gave a soft sigh of admiration, her beautiful green eyes wide as she sank to her knees, intent on the huge prize she had unwrapped.

Nathaniel closed his eyes, letting the anticipation wash over him. Setharia's small hand encircled the base of his manhood and then she began slowly and lovingly kissing him there, the slick noises sending shivers down his spine. Her worshipful lips were pure bliss on his naked skin. Then she began to lick his cock with delicate, inquisitive fervour, muffled little sounds of joy coming from between her ripe cherry lips. For just one perfect moment, her lips were stretched around the head of his cock, her tongue flicking around it, before she was working her way back down again.

Setharia slowly moved her mouth away, and Nathaniel stifled a moan of protest. One hand still traced up and down his length.

"So you're aware... We're about to share a marathon of sex," Setharia said, her tone almost matter of fact. "Far be it for me to tell you how to do what you do, but - keep in mind, you're a young stud. I imagine you could cum for me...in my mouth or on my chest..., " Nathaniel's cock twitched in her hand, "And recover marvelously enough to fuck me for the rest of the evening."

Nathaniel had never wanted anyone but Setharia but he'd also wanted to prepare himself for her. A woman with millenia of experience deserved better than an inexperienced boy. So, with the wholehearted and enthusiastic help of various smitten girls at court (and a few older, wiser and more wicked ladies in waiting), he had practised and refined his technique, eventually testing himself by satisfying three women in quick succession. He had, in fact, been naturally talented -he seemed to respond to his partner's pleasure in a way that even the most sensitive and experienced of lovers could not.

He bent down to whisper intimately in Setharia's ear.

"I can come for you again and again. I can fill you up inside until you can't take any more."

Her gorgeous green eyes were so bright and alive. He let his gaze travel down her nude, athletic body, taking in the subtle definition of every muscle under smooth, silky skin and thinking about what he could do to it. For once, his eyes were not calm and cool but blazing blue flames of desire.

The twitch of his cock in response to her words was thrilling; Setharia gave a pleased grin as she continued to speak, her hand moving over his hard rod with fuller, and slightly more rapid, contact. She wanted to feel every inch of him, buried deeply into her throat, ravishing her pussy with unrestrained thrusts, to be taken fiercely for both of their pleasures. The elf desired to feel him stretch her tightest hole, to feel the pain of his thick length as it claimed her ass while she shamelessly screamed his name and begged for more. The Elder Mage, the woman who had stood as a significant pillar within the Tyrelliaire House since it's ascension to the throne, the Elf of unmatched poise and grace and tact; she desired nothing more than to be the prince's plaything. Though it would always be so much more to her...it didn't matter. It wasn't meant to be. Nathaniel would marry a foreign princess for some agreement of peace, or at the least a daughter of a wealthy House interested in donating handsomely to the royal treasury. Political arrangements were not made without some benefit and Setharia had nothing significant to her name. In fact, she had not even her name.

But these thoughts were disregarded, cast aside in the very moment Setharia accepted that she'd happily be Nathaniel's whore in the eyes of the entire realm. She needed nothing more than him, no socially approved contract to prove their union. The mage would warm his bed, at every given opportunity, for so long as he allowed her. Besides...this was all a dream, and such reality-based concerns belonged elsewhere.

"I can come for you again and again. I can fill you up inside until you can't take any more."

She gave a daring smile. There was no desire to challenge his claim; it seemed better to test it. A purr emitted from her throat as she brushed her lips along the underside of his cock, towards his crown. Her hand settled at the base of his shaft, tightening before she stroked upwards, her tongue passing in a wide lick over his bulbous tip in hopes of gathering a sample of his precum. Her eyes fluttered shut as she savored his taste, a blissful high overtaking her momentarily.

Emeralds reappeared in a flash, her gaze traveling up to Nathaniel's face as her hand stroked downwards lightly. Despite the emblazoned passion between them, the woman wanted to savor the moment, to pace herself in devouring such a treasured morsel. There was a tinge of regret in knowing that what she now felt would only be a fraction compared to actual intimacy, but... What there was, still, was more than enough to overwhelm her senses.

Her lips parted, her eyes remaining cast upwards as her tongue placed itself along the rim of his crown. Setharia leaned forward and took him into her mouth as she encircled his tip with her tongue, a moan vibrating against his flesh in the moment before she slipped him deeper into her mouth. At first, she took only a couple of inches, her hand working to stimulate the remainder of his shaft as her tongue pressed wantingly against the contours of his manhood. She pulled back, her lips remaining sealed around him as she lapped at his tip before taking him again, just slightly deeper than before. Under such a method, it would be at least a full minute before he hit the back of her throat. Her efforts would continue at such a depth, her hand becoming slick as it passed over the saliva trailing from the woman's mouth. Eagerly she suckled his thick cock and between intermittent moans lewd, wet noises filled the large bedchamber. Her alternate hand had trailed along his inner thigh, and had since moved to grip possessively around the bend of the young prince's hip. She held him steady as she worked her face against his lap, relishing the pleasure it brought them both.

Reluctantly, she removed him from her mouth, her hand making up the distance in the length of it's strokes. After a couple of passes, her hand settled at the base and she gave a fond lick and a kiss to his now glistening wet cock. She peered up at him, her chest heaving with deep, quick breaths.

She stood suddenly, her hands moving to either of his hips as she guided him to walk back towards her bed. Setharia trailed her lips along his throat, lingering just before the complete motion of a kiss. As he reached their destination, an evenly delivered shove would place Nathaniel on his back upon the oversized mattress. The elf leaned over him, a finger tracing lightly over his chest as she stared into his eyes with a wicked grin upon her lips.

She thought to speak, to say his name and to praise him. And she would have meant every word of it but - here, it wasn't necessary. She had heard and said more than she had needed to already, from this fascinating figment of her imagination. And so her attention quickly returned to his gloriously erect flesh. And hand brushed lightly against him before she settled her breasts on either side of his shaft.

The smooth and soft globes were pressed to conform around his manhood as she began to lift herself over his lap. She watched for his reaction for several moments before supplementing the action by teasing him with her mouth; first, she merely kissed his tip as it slid out of her cleavage and towards her face. With the next motion she licked, even sealed her mouth around his crown in the moment before her chest rose over him again. A few more similar teases before she settled herself into an arrangement in which she could shallowly slide him in and out of her mouth while continuing to stroke him with her breasts.

Setharia's hand, tongue and lips worshipped his thick cock. There was no other word for the irresistible, reverential abandon that the elf mage brought to her self-appointed task. A feline purr of satisfaction issued forth from deep in her throat, sending thrilling vibrations along the great shaft of Nathaniel's manhood as she lovingly kissed her way along it, pausing at the crown for a swiping lick of the pearl of pre-cum that glistened there.

Setharia seemed to relish the taste, throwing back her head and closing her eyes, her beautiful face registering total ecstasy. Nathaniel took the moment to unabashedly study her perfect nude body and breathe in the ever-sweeter, ever-stronger scent of elven arousal. His dreams were always vivid and rich in detail, but this surpassed them all. He had long ago mastered means of prolonging and taking control of his own dreams but this also felt somehow different. The dream Setharia was fulfilling his deepest and most secret fantasies, but she felt... realer than the phantom Setharias who had pleasured him in the past. Even he had never quite been able to imagine just how the wise and respected immortal Elder Mage, the kind and gentle companion of his earliest days, could be turned into the panting, cum-craving nymph into which elf maidens turned in the bedroom, according to the tales. But the complete, joyous submission of her pose, kneeling naked before him to serve his cock, carried total conviction.

Setharia's brilliant, emerald eyes flashed open again to study Nathaniel's face. The combination of tender love and fierce lust in them was almost overwhelming. He instinctively reached out a hand to stroke her smooth cheek, noting a flash of sadness on her face at the time. Don't worry, he wanted to say. Soon we'll do this in waking life. I'll take you in every room in my mother's palace.

Then Setharia had bent once again to her business, her lips sealing around the mighty head of his cock, her cheeks bulging obscenely around its swollen bulk. Her ministrations had felt blissful before but now Nathaniel had to steady himself to keep his knees from buckling under the sheer, relentless onslaught of pleasure that Setharia's mouth was bringing him. In no hurry, Setharia slowly bobbed her head rhythmically up and down his shaft, taking a little bit more with each new dip downwards, slicking the veins with saliva. It was all that Nathaniel could do to keep from roughly grabbing her head, forcing it all the way down to the base to fuck her face, but instead he focused on the incredible, throat-drying pleasure of the moment itself. Judging by the lewd, wet moans slipping from Setharia's ripe lips, she was taking no less pleasure in sucking his cock.

Nathaniel could already feel a tightness in his balls, and a familiar white heat moving at the base of his spine. Under instruction from one of the city's greatest courtesans, he had learned to channel this energy. He could halt the flow at the peak of arousal, pleasure a woman into exhaustion without coming himself, but even he wondered if his training would be able to withstand the combination of Setharia's technique and her sheer adoring enthusiasm. It didn't matter, for now. He had seen the eagerness with which Setharia had spoken of having him spray her mouth and breasts with his hot seed, and he had no intention of failing to reward her efforts.

It was strange, a part of him thought, how easily he was slipping into thinking of Setharia as real, of this encounter as something more than a dream...

Perhaps sensing how close he was to coming, Setharia reluctantly slid his cock out of her mouth. He gave a single, desolate gasp as her sinfully soft lips slowly released the head and she came to her feet, her magnificent breasts heaving. She led him by the hand across the room, her lips brushing lightly against his throat, and Nathaniel's heart beat quicker as he saw their destination -the large four-poster bed at the back of the room. Even if this was only a dream, Setharia was at last taking him to her bed and it was strange how much that meant to him.

As they stood at the foot, a playful shove from the elven mage pushed Nathaniel backwards on to her bed. Nathaniel's perfectly muscled form could have stood upright against a howling gale, but he allowed himself to be knocked over by the slender elf. She leaned over him, a slim arm on either side, a fascinating grin on her face. The pose offered him a perfect view of her wonderful, creamy breasts, so gorgeously sculpted and youthful and buoyant.

Then Setharia bent down, climbing on top of him and letting her breasts press down on the slick, heavy shaft of his cock, smothering it between them, a tower of steel between two snowy mountains. It was the height of pleasure. Setharia looked downwards, green eyes widening playfully as though surprised by the bulbous cockhead emerging from between her breasts, then bent down to kiss it. Slowly, she once again took the head between her lips and began to suck.

Nathaniel could feel his balls tighten and throb, the pressure building up inside of him. He moved with her movements, his cock pushing up and down that channel of soft, firm flesh, his pleasure building up to a high and wild climax. At last he came, shooting rope after rope of hot white seed into Setharia's mouth, across her face and hair, and coating her breasts.

Setharia could feel the impending orgasm building in her lover and could not but strive to satisfy it. A part of her begged that she take him deeper, that she drive his thick shaft wantonly down her throat; but somehow she was assured that there would be time for that in the future. For now, she desired the benefit of tasting before swallowing, to feel him unload his precious seed upon her flesh. And she would have both.

A powerful stream of cum surged into her mouth and the elf moaned as one might in appreciation of a delicate dessert. Setharia wanted every drop of it, to savor in his taste, but she forced her maw away from him in the moment just before another shot of his essence unleashed. She felt it splatter across her face, it's warmth and wetness far more pleasurable than she would have ever guessed. The mage had never considered the prospect of being came upon favorably, had not offered such to any previous lover, and likely would have reacted with offense if any man had ever expressed an interest in doing such to her. She couldn't place what it was about Nathaniel that made the woman so open to her desires, so confident and unconcerned with such ideas of submission or dominance, that she offered and wanted him to cum on her. Setharia did not experience shame, or feel as if she was somehow degraded; rather, the act was simply beauty for the bliss it brought them both.

She felt his seed spilling upon her breasts and couldn't help but to watch. Upon her tongue his essence lingered and as she marveled in it's sweetness she had to extend some admiration to the sheer amount of his ejaculate. He had filled her mouth, marked her face with his sexual prowess, and coated her breasts in a single orgasm.

When his hips sank back into the bed and he had fully unloaded, Setharia looked up at him with a pleased smile. She removed her breasts from around his cock and a hand moved to take their place. Fingers wrapping around the base of his shaft, her grip tightened gently before she began to stroke him towards the tip. She swallowed and licked her lips before taking his crown again into her mouth, lovingly lapping up his excess.

She stood fully afterwards, taking a moment to gaze upon the exquisite form of her prince with a fond expression. Setharia had dreamt of Nathaniel often, though sexual dreams had caused her to forcibly wake herself in response previous to now. It had felt so wrong, to lust for a human that was barely an adult, to commit what could be considered a betrayal of her duty. And while the woman could never really think of anything between them as truly incentuous, there remained memories of very maternal circumstances between them. Hannah had joked on more than one occasion that "Nathaniel desires his mother," as she handed a fussy baby to Setharia. The elf somehow comforted him more than anyone else could and it had been easy to become attached as if he were her own. But now, as she looked upon him, she didn't feel any guilt in her lustful intent.

A finger trailed over her breast, collecting the prince's spilled seed before lifting to her mouth. She licked the appendage in a single broad pass. "Mmm..." she purred. Her erect nipples reminded her of their wanting with a dull ache.

She crawled over him, straddling his lap. Between her legs, the woman's pussy was drenched with desire. The thin material of her lace panties did little to conceal as much, though it did remain as flimsy barrier between their bodies. The mage stared directly at the young man's face as she trailed a hand beneath the border of her minimal clothing.

A silent gasp showed on her features as her touch graced over her clit, her fingers continuing to move along her slit. She did not penetrate herself, rather working to gather her arousal while lightly teasing. When her hand emerged from her panties a few moments later, two fingers glistened with her slick excitement. Wordlessly, she offered the sample of her essence to her lover's lips.

Afterwards, she'd return to the task of cleaning herself up. The remainder of Nathaniel's seed was wiped from her face before being appreciatively taken by her tongue. The splash damage to her hair was simply smoothed into her other strands, a process that was done without ceremony or any sign of apprehension.

Her hands came to a rest upon his chest while her eyes continued to soak in the image of his face. Every detail was so precise...it was uncanny. Things the elf had failed to directly notice in the waking realm (likely as she had tried to avoid staring at him so intently as she did now) were so clear.

A playful smile came to her lips as she removed herself from him, moving so as to fall onto her shapely rear to his side. She slid herself backwards, towards the headboard, stopping only as the small of her back touched against the softness of a pillow. Once settled, her legs slowly parted, a hand trailing lightly along the pristine flesh of her inner thigh.

"I fear waking from this dream," she admitted in a voice barely above a whisper. Her hand continued to move, her fingers slipping under the material covering her womanhood from the side. She stroked along her slit, a breath catching in her throat before she continued to speak. "In case that there is a finite conclusion to this little imagination, I'd like to linger in the desire your eyes hold for me a little longer."

She leaned back on the pillow as her alternate hand made its way to her breast. Setharia cupped the globe with splayed fingers, her nipple slipping between the part of her touch. Her back arched as two slender fingers pressed teasingly against her opening, a soft moan emitting from her throat. Her eyes fluttered shut briefly. An inhalation of breath carried her attention back to Nathaniel, whom she watched adoringly as her finger graced over her hardened nipple. "I want you so badly, Nathaniel. To feel your touch, your lips... I want every inch of your massive cock to claim everything my body has to offer." Setharia rubbed against her clit in the same moment as her alternate hand pinched her swollen nipple. Her hips rose wantingly in response and she stifled a moan.

The room was heavy with Nathaniel's laboured breath. Setharia's astonishing, almost sorcerous skill, had come close to sending him out of control, despite his long exercises in self-control. When had his dreams become so vivid? Something stirred at the back of his mind at that thought, but before he could concentrate on it, Setharia had taken his half-hard cock in his mouth and was greedily lapping away the cum that glistened on it. Her angelic face was transformed and Nathaniel gazed at her in awe. Inspired by the stories about elves, he had imagined before that Setharia, elegant and demure Setharia, might transform into a wild and wanton nymph in bed, but this surpassed all his previous fantasies.

Setharia stood up before him afterwards, giving him time to admire once again the majestic slopes of her breasts, so huge on her slender frame, breasts between which his cock had nestled, breasts which still gleamed with his wet, sticky white seed. He could still imagine their heavenly, yielding firmness. Setharia dreamily ran one slim finger along the slick upper sides of her breasts, dragging it around the nipple and moistening her finger with his cum. She raised it to her mouth and licked it away with one swipe of her pretty pink tongue-tip, smiling like a cat tasting cream. Despite the copious seed he had spilled over Setharia, Nathaniel was hard again.

Looking into his eyes, Setharia leant down and climbed on top of him. He could feel the wet heat of her pussy through her sodden lace panties. The delicious scent of her arousal filled his nostrils. Without breaking eye-contact, Setharia slowly dipped her fingers beneath her panties.

Nathaniel watched in delight as a range of expressions chased each other across Setharia's delicately beautiful face. He watched her emerald eyes shine as the pleasure began to mount and then her lip curl and pout with just the tiniest hint of contained frustration. She was holding herself back from going deeper, from plunging her fingers within her snatch. Even in her insensate hunger for pleasure, she knew much better things lay in store.

Setharia drew her glistening fingers out and offered them to Nathaniel. He eagerly took them into his mouth, licking and sucking on each individually, craving the savour of her sweet, honeyed juices, holding her by her slender wrist. She, meanwhile, finished cleaning his own seed off her face in the manner she seemed to like best, almost seeming to sigh as she swallowed the last drop.

The elven mage dropped back on the bed, and Nathaniel turned his head to admire her almost-nude form while she whispered to him, the sweet yet obscene things he'd longed to hear for so long spilling forth from between dainty, rose lips. She was lying there, one hand tweaking a nipple while the other slowly moved back and forth along the wet slit under her panties, her lustrous eyes half-closed and fixed on him in lust and adoration.

Nathaniel could have watched her like that for centuries, but he had other uses in mind. He leaned over her, and slowly planted a warm, gentle kiss on her lips. Moving downwards, next his mouth touched the hollow of her graceful, swanlike throat, lifting it up in a little pucker. He kissed his way down the slopes of her breasts, swirling the nipple capping each around his tongue and sucking it briefly, before continuing down her trim, flat stomach, finally reaching the arch of her open legs.

He gently slid her sweet-smelling, soaked panties down her slim legs, gazing in rapture at the luscious, feminine treasure underneath. Laying a hand on either thigh, he cast himself out at full length and began lapping at the hard little nub of her clitoris, licking away the sweet juices that clung to it with each slow, relentless kiss.

The way in which Nathaniel licked and suckled her fingers, working each individually into his mouth, his tongue unsatisfied until it had lapped up the last of his lover's juices; it sent Setharia's heart to unknown heights. A sudden understanding that he wanted for her as much as she wanted for him, that he desired to taste and feel her without the slightest shred of hesitation.

Which...of course he did. This was all a dream, it was no surprise that the details would so heavily sway in the woman's favor. As she repositioned herself, she tried to remind herself that this wasn't real, even if it felt remarkably so.

Nathaniel came to her, leaning his body over hers as he graced her lips with a delicate kiss. Immediately, the elf removed her hands from herself so as to wrap her arms lovingly around his shoulders, returning the sweet press of his mouth. He began to lower his position, his lips touching her throat, trailing down her breasts; his tongue encircled her nipple in the moment before he sealed his lips around the excited flesh. The other was similarly treated before he continued his way downwards.

Setharia trembled lightly. She was but unable to arch her back as his mouth came upon her breast, lightly pushing herself into his attentions. A soft moan escaped her lips. Her hands had slid back from encompassing him to resting on his shoulders as he continued to descend her body. Her emerald eyes remained locked on his face as he kissed down her stomach, marveling in the anticipation he built within her with his skillfully teasing pace.

Or perhaps it had less to do with his proficiency and more to do Nathaniel. She didn't desire the satisfaction brought upon by a lover's touch, as one normally would in such circumstances as this. But more than her own pleasure, her anticipation was related at a strange concept; an abstract ideal that was difficult to explain. It had little to do with either of their lusts, involved a measure of wonder and spiritual bliss. It was as if a thread of destiny was being firmly stitched into the fabric of history.

But Setharia didn't believe in fate. Didn't believe in prophecies, religious or otherwise. And so it was easy for her to let go of such lofty thoughts in the moment that the prince began to remove her panties; she lifted her hips slightly to assist his motion, lowering herself back to the mattress as soon as the article of clothing slipped to her thighs.

This...feeling, or whatever it was; this nagging of her mind...it was nonsense. A side-effect of the dream state. Setharia pushed it away as she watched Nathaniel lower his head between her legs...

Her pussy was neatly shaven with only a small collection of trimmed curls remaining upon her mound. Had she been awake, she would've found her body in the same state as it was now - she had stopped to bathe herself before making her final approach to the capitol, and had seen fit to freshly shave her legs. Once there, why not finish the job? She had avoided questioning her motives at the time, and even now she might not admit that the task had been accomplished with a thought, no matter how far back in her mind, that perhaps Prince Nathaniel would have an opportunity to appreciate her smooth flesh. But, it was so, and no amount of self-denial would change that.

His hands placed upon her thighs, his mouth moved ever closer to her womanly folds. His tongue brushed against her swollen clit, caused a fresh flush to burn into the woman's features as she groaned appreciatively. "Nathaniel..." she whispered sweetly as she ran the fingertips of a single hand through his hair. Another pass of his tongue was met with a blissful collapse, Setharia laying back fully on her pillows rather than remaining in an inclined position. Her hips bucked lightly against his mouth as he continued to satisfy her lustful desires.

A mouthwatering scent of arousal rose from Sethara's deliciously fragrant, juicy sex. The elf maiden in heat smelled of rich, rare spices and sweet wild honey. It was the scent of something primal and pure and it uncoiled a thread of pure, primordial lust deep in Nathaniel's core. Stories of sirens and dryads, stories of elven witches turning human men into lustful animals and stealing them from their wives; Nathaniel recalled them all with a new understanding now. Even if he had not loved Setharia with the obsessive devotion that he did, it was impossible to imagine returning to mortal lovers after his taste of her favours, even in a dream.

He lowered his mouth on to her pussy while digging his hands below her shapely, bare ass. Mmm... she was so firm and toned beneath his hands. He gently lifted, as though her sex was a cup he wished to drink his fill of, and felt her hot honey juices flowing down his chin and spilling into his mouth as he continued to lick at her clitoris. She was sandwiched between his strong hands and relentlessly licking tongue. Setharia's soft, husky moans spurred him on. She was pushing herself against his face, his lips smacking and sucking against her hard little clitoris.

Nathaniel's breath was coming in short, sharp pants. All he was aware of was an aching desire to pleasure Setharia, to turn her little trembles and low moans into frenzied writhing and screams of ecstasy. This was how he had imagined being under Setharia's spells as a child -he remembered how the idea used to thrill him. Because of his erotic fantasies about his mentor, sex and magic had always been intimately linked in his mind.

He leant back, then slowly extended his tongue and ran it along the cleft of her pussy lips. He looked up, savouring the sight of Setharia's face glowing with pleasure. Unable to resist, he buried his face between her legs and pushed his tongue down deep as far as it could go into her hot, sweet depths, his lips sealed over the swollen lips of her sex. He slid his tongue in and out, in and out, savouring the taste of her juices.

The motions of Nathaniel's tongue were marvelous, practiced and precisely effective. Setharia closed her eyes, let her head fall back, focused all of her attention on the sensation of her lover's affections. A moan emanated from her throat, a shiver coursed through her body.

His hands slid beneath her smoothly rounded buttocks, his hands cupping her flesh lovingly as he lifted her hips from the mattress. "Oh, Nathaniel..." she repeated his name in a husky purr, not more than a fraction of a minute since the last time she had spoken it. In truth, her mind was a fuzz; all that existed in the moment was them, the bliss they afforded each other. She could say his name a thousand times and it would lose none of it's meaning or the depth of emotion that was attached to it.

The mage could feel the coating of her slickness upon the prince's lips and chin, the knowledge making her wild with lust. He had made her so unbelievably wet and he seemed content to drink from the cup that he had filled; never had a lover reveled so much in her taste. She wanted to bask in his love eternally, to forever cherish the depth of the connection between them. In her present state, Setharia failed to consider that such was a complete impossibility, given the human lifespan. She was also beginning to forget that this was all a dream.

She was more aware of the dryness of her mouth, which had been unable to shut amid her moans and shallow breaths. Setharia opened her eyes, forced her mouth shut. Re-wet her tongue and glanced down at the lover between her legs.

Nathaniel repositioned himself, continuing to hold her in his hands. His tongue traveled the length of her slit. Setharia gasped and shuttered, finding the hand not within his hair to be gathering the sheets in a claw. A moment later, his tongue plunged deep inside of her.

The elf made an unintelligible noise as her body jolted with pleasure. His tongue withdrew but returned quickly with another full stab of it's length. She felt a wash of heat from between her legs, a fresh wave of her hot juices flooding her womanly passage. Again and again, Nathaniel's tongue delved into the depth of her lust-soaked cunt, gathering a seemingly endless supply of her arousal with every stroke.

She whimpered, moaned. Her body seemed to grow more restless by the second.

"By the flame!" she exclaimed suddenly. The writhing of her body nearly attempted to pull away from him, as if she couldn't handle the level of passion he was devoting between her legs. "Nathaniel!" His hold ensured that she could not squirm away. Within moments she was resigned to her fate; the hand within his hair clenched lightly, seemed to pull and hold him against her as her body began spasming.

The orgasm was more intense than any the woman had experienced before. Colors seemed to reverse, or became non-existent. In the after-shock, her body lightly trembled, her breaths became deep and labored. Even as her sight returned to normal, her hearing seemed dampened by a fade that allowed her to listen to her own heartbeat.

A few moments of recovery and the elf raised herself onto her elbows so as to look fully upon her gorgeous lover. A soft smile graced her lips.

Setharia seemed to explode underneath his exploring tongue. For all his gifts, Nathaniel had never known a woman so responsive, so incredibly lusty and possessed by passion. It was an extraordinary experience -to have his face buried in her wet, velvety depths, to feel her tremble and quiver with such raw eagerness with each new lick, to hear her hot, lusty moans rise into shrieks.

She wriggled and bucked as she came, as though trying to escape from the overwhelming pleasure, but Nathaniel held her fast. He could feel her consciousness slip into wild, animal abandon, her mouth open for one long, continuous scream of pleasure. Her orgasm seemed to hit her like a blast of lightning. After its long, long spell on her slowly faded, she could just lie there, panting and trembling.

Nathaniel lifted his head to look at her. She was on her elbow, smiling at him almost shyly, still tremulous after the epic orgasm that had rocked her nubile body.

He traced a hand up a perfect golden leg, loving the smooth feel of her tanned flesh under his hands. His fingers traced a circle around her flat belly and then up the slopes of the wonderful, generous mountains of her breasts, his desire increasing all the while. His cock was a thick spear, aching to be plunged deep into her.

But something in him resisted, an instinct that he couldn't account for. This was a fantasy. Richer, deeper, and more fulfilling than any of his many previous fantasies about Setharia, but still just a dream. He wanted more than that... and somehow he knew there was a way to get it.

He touched a finger to Setharia's ripe lips.

"Until next time," he whispered.



Nathaniel woke up to the sound of birdsong. He looked down. Setharia's hand still rested on his chest. He smiled.

Setharia's brows drew together in a quizzical expression. The touch of his finger to her lips prompted them to part, as if to question what he meant.

But in that same moment, it was gone. Everything faded. Nothingness persisted for several long moments before the woman's physical body shifted. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

Her gaze settled on her hand, which was placed on Nathaniel's chest. Her sight trailed up to his face, finding him to be awake, and she smiled softly as he looked at her.

"Good morning."

No doubt he'd return the greeting.

The dream suddenly came flooding back to her.

Setharia! What is wrong with you?! She tried to hide the inner turmoil from her expression as she drew her hand away from him. She did not jerk away, as one might from a hot stove, rather attempting to be subtle. The elf rolled onto her back and sat up, stretching out her arms with a yawn.

...Your panties are soaked, she chided herself. A cursory glance downward. And your nipples are hard. Fantastic.

She forced herself to look at Nathaniel, believing that rushing out of the tent without so much as a second glance or word would give him reason to suspect...something. Surely, he couldn't possibly know that she had dreamt of him, thinking otherwise was just crazy.

Why did she feel so transparent under his gaze?

You know you want to ravage him. It's not as if he'd stop you...he's an eighteen-year-old human. You're going to be claiming to be his lover, so...why are you even trying to stop yourself?

"...I'm going to go bathe before breakfast," she announced suddenly, removing her blankets. The woman was thankful that she had gone to bed clothed.

She climbed off of her cot and moved to exit the tent. Once outside, she took a deep breath and collected herself before approaching the creek.

Without hesitation, she undressed. Slowly, she made her way into the waters, walking until she was mid-thigh deep. She glanced back at the tent and paused briefly before turning away, lowering herself deeper into the cold stream. She cupped her hands and splashed her face.

Get a hold of yourself.

"Good morning," Nathaniel replied.

The air inside the tent was heavy with the delicious, spicy smell of elven arousal. There was a flush on Setharia's achingly beautiful face. She looked calm, nevertheless, her eyes pools of deep, tranquil serenity. And yet he sensed she was anything but calm.

She was thinking of the hot, sweet dew between her legs, soaking her panties. She was thinking of the hard, quivering nubs that were her nipples, begging for a skillful hand and tongue to tweak them and manipulate them and pay homage to them.

She was thinking that she wanted him to ravish her, the way he almost had in the dream the night before. His hard young body on top of her, his thick cock between her legs, going so deep into her, driving her wild...

Setharia excused herself to go and bathe. Nathaniel lay where he was a moment, letting the mouthwatering images of Setharia stripping to bathe run through his mind while he thought.

He'd always been good at knowing what other people were thinking, at guessing their intentions and their next moves. Tutors had always put it down to being good at reading body language and expressions, being an astute and observant student of human nature. That was part of it, but this went beyond this. Setharia's thoughts just now had been so extraordinarily clear to him, so vivid in his mind, despite the stillness of her face. How was it possible?

And their dream... it had not felt like other dreams. There was something else going on here. Nathaniel stretched lazily, and smiled. There would be plenty of time to find out on the journey. Time enough for many things.


He had gone through his exercises and was already preparing a light breakfast of herbs and mushrooms over the campfire by the time Setharia returned from her bathing. He smiled at her, and gestured to the log that served as a bench.

Long, slow breaths. Eyes closed, focus set upon the current of the creek as it parted around her naked flesh. Soaking in the chill, numbing the mind of thought...

Water was the most soothing of the elements. Even for those with little to no appreciation of nature, the sound of a stream or the sight of a body of water could invoke feelings of tranquility. It was the essence of life and so it was no real wonder that it brought such comforts.

For Setharia, though, it was much more than that. When she emerged from the creek she felt truly renewed - as one might after a long and enlightening meditation. She had regained her balance and somehow assured herself that she could keep it.

After allowing herself to bask dry, the elf redressed herself and headed back to camp. Her immediate intention had been to fetch her leather armor, to finish properly preparing herself for a day of travels, but as Nathaniel smiled and offered her a seat she couldn't resist; not to imply that she tried, even in the least.

Seating herself on the log, her poise reminiscent of her active days in Court, Setharia offered him a smile. "That smells delicious," she commented before taking a more appreciative inhalation. "Mmm. Mushrooms are my favorite." An upgrade of 'beaming' to her smile masked the realization that her sense of smell was far more keen to Nathaniel's musk than that of the cooking food.

She reclined herself slightly, placing her hands behind and to the side of her. Setharia was trying to compensate, to look more comfortable than she was.

"Did you sleep well?"

It wasn't until the question was hanging in the air that the torrent that was her own dream came crashing back to memory. The water had not washed it away nearly so well as she had thought. But it did, perhaps, help her to maintain her composure, despite the sudden lewd images and primal desires that threatened to become a major concern once again. Rather than fixate on it, to dwell on how horrible of a person it made her to lust for her student, a family member in all but blood... It flowed through her mind with the equivalence of a shrug.

The heart wants what the heart wants.

Which was anything but permission to act on it. Acceptance was one thing, reckless abandon entirely another.

Setharia's body was still gleaming, her damp brown hair framing her beautiful face and droplets of water still trickling across the smooth, clean lines of her sunkissed body. It made Nathaniel think of the dream last night, the dream that had not been a dream, and how his hot seed had splattered across her face and how she'd licked it from her delicate fingers like sweet honey. He'd never known a woman with such abandon, such hot, steamy desire.

Now, as she sat demurely across the campfire from him nibbling delicately at her breakfast, those images might have been hard to maintain. There was no trace of heat or lust on that serene, angelically beautiful face; no husky, longing undertone to her voice nor inviting, intentionally revealing tilt to her slender, perfectly-endowed body. She might have been pondering some ancient elven mystery or enjoying the ageless beauty of the trees around them.

But she wasn't. Nathaniel was as sure of that as he had ever been, even if he did not yet quite know why. She was thinking about the slow, inexorable, treacherously pleasurable build-up of honey between her legs, her sweet-scented feminine arousal. She was thinking about how every inch of her toned golden body was quivering with an aching, sweetly sensitive arousal. She wanted him to bend her over, there and then, to thrust her shapely rear in the end and let him ravish her without mercy. The thought nearly drove him mad with desire. They had not, in the dream... because Nathaniel had not willed it. Not until he could enjoy her in life.

"I slept very well," he said with a swashbuckling grin. "I had very pleasant dreams. I hope you did as well?"

The brightness of Nathaniel's response had Setharia glancing up from her breakfast, her gaze falling upon the curve of his lips.

"I had very pleasant dreams. I hope you did as well?"

The knowing tone, the rogue smile...was she just being paranoid? The dream had felt otherworldly, like nothing she had ever experienced before, but... It wasn't possible.

"Of course," she responded easily and without elaboration. She gave him a brief but sincere smile. "We'll need to properly educate you to in the symbolism to be found in dreams; it may very well be the path to discovering what magic resides within you." After a pause, she added, "My own realizations were made in a state of slumber." She took a bite nonchalantly and turned her attention to her food.

You did not share a dream. You couldn't have shared a dream. If you had...the source would be him.

Mind magic hadn't been present in the world for nearly a thousand years - and for good reason. Such power was dangerous beyond belief. It was an art untaught, a curse that sprang it's host into a greed and lust driven madness fueled by the simplicity of willing others. Quite literally everything was for their taking, and often enough they took that there was never any other choice but to kill them. In their sleep, of course - the only time they were even remotely vulnerable. A few innocents might have been slaughtered in the name of their neighbors' fear, though always it was agreed to be in the name of the greater good by elven society. The magical ability had been rare, even in the times before panic insisted that those so gifted be hunted down... If any had existed in the last century, they had been smart enough to evade detection by choosing to forsake their power.

Emerald eyes lifted to look at Nathaniel.

No. Gods, no... It can't be possible.

"...What did you dream of last night? Be specific."

There was a subtle tension in the air, an electricity as though a storm were about to break. Nathaniel had had this feeling only once or twice before in his life. It always portended something, something of profound significance.

He met Setharia's matchless emerald gaze. Her face was so perfect in its flawless beauty, he just wanted to run a hand over it as he would the work of a master sculpture. That beauty had only been heightened, not degraded, by the lustful uses her face and soft, pouting mouth had been put to in his dream.

He responded without hesitation, a little half-smile on his lips.

"Well, I think the symbolism of my dream was quite clear. I was in a beautiful, sunlit room. You were there. You were almost naked. You told me you wanted me and then you knelt down and took my manhood in your mouth.."

The intensity of the memory, the remembered desire coursing through his veins, almost overwhelmed him.

For several moments the elf sat perfectly still, staring at Nathaniel with a blank expression.

It could be by coincidence, that he had a similar dream...or it could be that he was making it up, to see how Setharia would react. His choice of scenario could have been nothing more than dumb luck. Though there was no reason to believe the prince was given to lying, the alternative...

A sudden flush overtook her features. Her lips parted but she failed to speak, instead raising a hand to cover her lower face as if it could shield Nathaniel's sight from her embarrassment. She said nothing and after a long moment she closed her eyes.

She took a deep breath. And another.

Setharia recomposed before reopening her eyes and slowly dropping her hand. She knew that she should be terrified, if not of him then for him, but she wasn't. Instead, she fixated on how shamelessly she had acted in their shared dream and so avoided the bigger problem entirely for the time.

"I..." she started, on the verge of making a defensive statement towards her behavior. Then she simply shook her head. The image of her so openly indulging his seed, savoring his taste so greatly that she lapped up every last drop... There was nothing to say, really.

Her eyes narrowed. Not aggressively, rather like a scholar squinting to better read the finest of print. She studied the human for a moment before giving another attempt to speaking.

"...If we truly shared that dream..." she started hesitantly, as if unwilling to fully admit her involvement. "Then we needn't look any further for your magical talent."

She forced herself to look away from him, turning her attention to standing and setting her plate on the log that had served as a chair. A couple of steps carried her away from him; Setharia crossed her arms and gazed idly towards the sky. "Have you heard of psionics?"

The dream-memory of Setharia's insatiable, shameless thirst for his seed was as thrillingly vivid as when he had first experienced it. And he could sense her confusion and humiliation. He had no desire to humiliate the woman he loved most in the world, but he felt it might have some instructive value.

And the word came into his head, a moment before Setharia spoke it. Psionic.

Of course. Nathaniel's quick mind immediately grasped her implication. He almost felt foolish. He'd always taken his talent, his knack for knowing what other people were thinking, for granted. If he'd thought about it at all, he'd assumed that he'd just developed the natural ability to read body-language and pick up on subtle cues in tone and expression. But that hardly explained the dream last night -that searing, beautiful dream they'd both shared.

"None of my instructors would speak very much of psionics," he said quietly. "They were said to be... warlocks among the elves. Elves with magic talents which frightened even the greatest elven mages. They were put to death, not for how they used their powers but because of their very nature."

He looked at Setharia's delicately beautiful face, still flushed from her realization. His own face was completely, stoically calm and untroubled, despit what he was saying.

The elf turned to face Nathaniel as he spoke, her arms remaining crossed over her chest.

"It only takes a few power-hungry madmen to ruin the reputation of their kind," Setharia offered. "You won't be an exception to persecution, despite the war that will come in the wake of your murder."

It was painful to think of, more anguishing to speak, but the prince deserved to know the likely truth. She dropped her arms and watched him as she took a couple of steps in his direction. "I may not have known what you are - I've never been in the company of a psionicist. But any Elder..." It wasn't often that an Elder visited Daegarr but it seemed likely that Prince Tyrelliaire's presence, and the wonderful rumor that Setharia had taken him as a lover, might cause some attraction. "They'll know, Nathaniel. Without any display on your part, they'll sense something just as I always have...but they'll know what to subscribe it to." She continued to approach him, stopping only once she was in reach of touching him. It was amazing to think what level of power Nathaniel held within; it radiated from him.

Setharia thought to advise him to return Castle Tyrelliaire. Forget everything he had ever hoped or dreamed of magic, forget the passion and desire that his instructor barely kept beneath the surface. Bid him return home, refuse to see him for the foreseeable future. She couldn't teach him, couldn't even begin to fathom how, and...well, she shouldn't, even if she could. But the alternative to trying was...what? Hope that no real Elder set foot in the human capitol, that he'd never be found out?

The elf cradled Nathaniel's cheek in hand, stared into his eyes for several long moments. "Of course I'll do everything I can to protect you. But...your safety will more so be decided on how well you take to your abilities and how wise you are in using them." Her hand slowly trialed over his strong jaw, down his throat. She paused at his collarbone, as if considering going farther. At length she withdrew.

She continued to hold his gaze. Can you hear thoughts directly? she wondered.

Can you project thought?

Setharia's cool fingertips seemed to ignite fires wherever they touched. She raised her hand to his face, traced his cheek, his jaw and his neckline, her forest green gaze moving thoughtfully downwards. She was thinking of the dream, Nathaniel knew. She was thinking of the impressive, enormous manhood she knew dangled between his legs, of how she had tasted it between her lips but still not between her legs, and how that sweet, wet, tight place seemed to ache for it...

Now that he knew what he was doing, Nathaniel wondered if there was a way to turn his power off, to shut other peoples' thoughts out. It felt bad to eavesdrop on the gorgeous Setharia's thoughts this way. Well, as a matter of fact, it didn't, in fact it felt incredibly, arousingly good but it felt... improper.

Can you hear thoughts directly? Can you project thought?

Yes, thought Nathaniel, consciously focusing on Setharia. Fair was fair, he decided after a moment. He'd seen more of Setharia's intimate, erotic thoughts and desires than she'd chosen to consciously share with him, so he would allow her the same privilege. He focused on the blazing hot desire he felt for every tanned, perfect inch of her lithe, lushly curved, slender body and how insatiable his desire the night before had been, letting all of this stream through his mind into hers.

Yes, the elf heard within her mind.

Even expecting it, it was startling to have come to truth. She felt a stab of panic - as would anyone, with the proof that their thoughts...maybe even their memories and secrets...were at the disposal of another. Surprisingly, though, Setharia's fear was purely based on her past and not at all concerned with him gaining the ability to hijack her mind to use her as a magical conduit (which, rest assured, should be the larger issue).

She wasn't given much more than a moment to fret, at which point Nathaniel's thoughts began becoming hers. She could see what he was thinking, without losing her own sight or ability to think independently. Her mouth opened slightly and she said nothing.

It would be so easy, to fall into his arms. There was no reason to try to control herself anymore, was there?

...There wasn't. Not a one. And yet --

She placed her hands on her hips. "You really should be more concerned with learning to use your magic to defend yourself and less with trying to nail your instructor." As she spoke the word 'nail' it sounded deeply unnatural, as if she couldn't really degrade a physical relationship between them to such terms.

"...Although." She allowed her gaze to drift to the sky. "I suppose I could use it to my advantage. As an instructor." Her sight returned to him and she smiled. "In time, Nathaniel."

She spun on her heel and headed for the tent. Disappearing inside for less than a moment, she fetched dagger and carried it back unceremoniously. It was dropped roughly a man's height from Nathaniel's feet.

"Move that, if you can."

Without hesitation she returned to sitting on the log, as if she expected the assigned task to be difficult and time consuming. Meanwhile she wondered what sort of sexual reward system she could set in place and/or considered how to incorporate sex directly into his lessons.

It might not be ethical. But...it could work.

Now that he knew what he was doing, Nathaniel was making a conscious effort to avoid reading Setharia's mind. It was something part of him longed to do. He wanted to know her and understand her as fully and completely as he loved her. He wanted to know what would thrill that lithe, toned body, how he could heap pleasure upon pleasure on to her until it felt like her heart would explode with the enjoyment of it, how to make his every act one that would make her heart sing.

But at present, in the shock of their mutual realization, it would feel too much like an intrusion, an invasion. He wanted the two of them to share that blissful erotic intimacy, wanted her to be as fully involved in it as he was. And the thought occured to him that his powers might even go beyond that -that he might plant a seed of his own desires in Setharia's mind, rip that sweet consent away from her. That thought was enough to send cold water running through his veins. He'd never want anyone on those terms, least of all the woman he'd loved and longed for all of his life.

Setharia, in turn, had recovered some of her poise. She even found some wicked amusement in the revelation of Nathaniel's desire, judging by the arch smile curving her ripe red lips. And the thought of her taking advantage of that desire caused a similar smile to leap on to Nathaniel's face. Oh yes.

When she cast the dagger down in front of him, Nathaniel knew what he wanted.

"Before we start on the great experiment," he said, repressing a grin. "I think an incentive system is in order. For instance... if I move that dagger, I think I'll deserve a kiss. Don't you?"

It was almost the kind of treat he might have asked from her as a boy. Except that Nathaniel had no intention of letting the rewards end with simple kisses.

Setharia was formulating a response as he spoke, her mind easily finding the conclusion that the student should not be allowed to choose their own rewards. But as he continued the elven woman was caught off guard by what it was he desired.

"A kiss?" she repeated, her expression markedly touched. A tender smile graced her lips. Emerald eyes studied him for several moments, though she already knew that she would not deny him.

It was astonishing and most unlike Setharia. She had faced too many betrayals to place trust: ordinarily, this would be the point that she'd consider a dozen theses of one's motives. She would've taken such a move as a sly tactic to set precedent with pretended sweetness, expect it to twist into eventual demands. But Nathaniel...she could take him at face value. She wasn't sure why she felt that way, how she was so assured that he was genuine. She hadn't felt that way towards anyone since childhood.

She'd rather it bite her in the ass than to shatter it with doubt. Nathaniel didn't deserve to suffer the shade of suspicion that his companion had taken from the world.

"Sounds fair." She leaned back, resting on her palms. "What sort of kiss you get is dependent of your grade." A challenging grin. "So do try."

That was all the encouragement Nathaniel needed. After his experiences in Setharia's dream last night, he had a shrewd idea of exactly how well Setharia might be able to kiss, if she judged his efforts worthy.

And so he focused on the dagger. He'd never consciously used his powers before. He wasn't sure how it was supposed to work. There were so many different stories about magic -invocations, rituals, prayers to demons or gods. But it seemed to come instinctively, naturally to Setharia, just something she could do as well and as gracefully as she did everything.

He stared at the dagger, his cerulean eyes narrowing, rigidly defined muscles tensing. He willed it to lift, to move. He tried to conceptualize it as atoms, and to make those atoms shift and jump. He tried to imagine an invisible hand clasped around the dagger's hilt, lifting it up. He did everything he could think of, conscious of the time seeing to flash by. He wanted that kiss.

And that gave him an idea. Now, instead of looking at the knife, he looked at Setharia. He let his gaze travel unabashedly across the fine, delicately defined curves of her form, across those ripe lips, into those sparkling green eyes. He thought about everything he wanted to do her, everything this first reward might lead to... and then he looked down.

The knife was standing on its hilt, in defiance of gravity. It was as rigid and unmoving in the air as Nathaniel's massive, suddenly erect cock, now tenting his breeches.

The elven woman sat patiently, watching the dagger in absolute silence. As expected, the object did not immediately spring to life, and so Setharia had ample time to let her thoughts wander.

She was of course unable but to think of Nathaniel. His interest in her was now far from imagined or wished. Though she had never truly doubted it's existence...until their shared dream and Setharia's glimpse into his mind, she hadn't been able to determine the level in which he wanted her. Sexually, sure. But somehow she had convinced herself that he'd consider her as little more than a toy, a nothing to use and discard when he took a wife.

It wasn't that she thought him terrible: it'd be in his best interest for their arrangement to follow that exact description. He shouldn't care for her. It'd only cause them both pain, down the road.

But he did.

And she - she was quickly becoming unable to restrain her own emotions. The more she thought the more she was forced to recognize her love for Nathaniel. Soon the vein of thought bled into all sorts of romantic notions.

You've bartered your first kiss, she chastised herself. It's one thing to motivate him with rewards, to encourage the development of his magic through his physical wants. It's an entirely different thing to make him earn your affection.

She felt her heart sink. Gods, she had forever tarnished --

And then the dagger moved. At first, a twitch. And then another.

Setharia's expression showed her joy. Excitedly, she looked over at Nathaniel. She was surprised to see him looking directly back at her. She turned her attention once again to the dagger: it's bladed end was evenly rising into the air. Soon it stood on end, only the pommel resting against the ground.

The elf looked back to the prince. He seemed to just now be noticing his handiwork - just as Setharia now noticed the tenting of his breeches.

"Nathaniel," she spoke barely above a whisper. She waited for him to turn his attention to her before she continued. "You've done it. Congratulations."

She stood. Took purposeful steps towards him, stopping only once her legs were inches from the bend of his knees. Setharia stared into those cerulean eyes for several long moments as a hand found the side of his face, cradling his jaw tenderly. She leaned forward.

"This has nothing to do with that."

Her lips found his while her unoccupied hand trailed up the back of his neck. Her fingers strayed into his hair, her nails lightly massaging his scalp. The kiss remained sweet, romantic, for the better half of a minute.

She drew back and stared into his eyes. She had thought to say 'And this is for the dagger' but...it wasn't. And so without words, her mouth returned to his, her tongue eagerly seeking to explore him. The hand on the back of his head pulled forward, though his willingness to return the kiss hardly made it necessary.

Without conscious thought the elf crawled onto his lap. Her slender thighs parted to allow him between, her knees settling on either side of his legs. She slid herself towards him, a soft moan escaping her throat as his hardness pressed against her through their clothing.

Setharia's first kiss was milk and honey -a sweet, tender meeting of their lips, a kiss that was loving and gentle and deep, that quenched Nathaniel's thirst for her at the same time as it increased it. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of her soft lips against his, of her fragrance -that fresh, clean smell of sunwarmed earth, fern and grass and a hint of wild rose, of the deep places in the woods that only the elves knew. Some day Setharia would take him to them, and they'd couple there on a bed of leaves on the ground like the wild, innocent things around them.

When Setharia broke the kiss at last, Nathaniel gave a sigh despite himself -already missing the warmth and sweetness of her mouth. She kept her hands on him, staring at him with those incredible forest green eyes, and opened her mouth as though to say something. But instead, as though yielding to a passionate and irresistible impulse, she threw herself back into the kiss and scrambled on to his lap, straddling him and arching her back, pressing herself against him as though straining to place every inch of her slender, athletic body against him.

This kiss was different. It was wild and feverish and frenzied, a searing and passionate kiss that awoke primal hungers within Nathaniel. Her tongue slipped into Nathaniel's mouth, probing and exploring. A soft, purring moan came from deep within her throat as she felt the impossibly thick, hard length of his cock through his breeches.

Nathaniel returned the kiss fervently, matching her kiss with an equal fire. Holding her in place on his lap with a hand on the small of her back, he slowly introduced it under the soft leather of her armour, working his fingers against the smooth skin of her back, slowly pushing them downwards until they cupped a smooth, sweetly rounded buttock and gently squeezed, pressing her even more tightly against him.