Post by Zen on Jul 8, 2020 22:13:41 GMT -5
Trigger Warning: Dubious Consent
Returning to his weyr from the bathing caverns, A’zael touched Fath’s mind to find the bronze keeping company with Danovelith, which was no surprise. Walking into his weyr, he was about to ask Fath if he might ask his golden companion what her rider was up to for him, but his mind went blank as he stopped in his tracks, a familiar, naked body sprawled out on his bed.
Nalyra smirked at him, sitting up slightly, “Well, aren’t you going to come give me a proper welcome back, A’zael?”
“Ah… N-… Nalyra…,” he shook his head slightly, but it was difficult to think straight with a sight like that in front of him, “Uh… you… when…?” He shook his head again, memories of the last time he saw her beginning to push through the haze, “I-I told you not to come back.”
She laughed, stood from the bed to walk over toward him. He took a half step back, but even that was an effort. She slid her hands up over his chest and he wanted to push her away - didn’t he? - but his hands wouldn’t obey him. “You didn’t mean that.”
“I… yes I did,” but his tone certainly didn’t sound at all convincing, even to his own ears, coming out more like a question than a statement.
Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pressed against him, murmuring, “Mmm… I don’t think so.” Her lips brushed along his jaw as his hands hovered over her sides, not yet touching, his self control tenuous at best. Her hands slid back down his chest, worked under his shirt, pulling it up as they slid over bare skin beneath.
“Nalyra…,” it was meant to sound warning, but ended up more like need. Sharditall.
She chuckled, his shirt pulled half way up and rather stuck as he was not being terribly cooperative, “You’re not making this easy, you know. Should I just tear it off?”
“N-no… that’s not....,” his fingers brushed over her skin and he hated how much he wanted her. She had been the source of so much conflict between him and Srunae. He shouldn’t do this…. And yet, when she tugged his shirt up once more, he didn’t resist it, allowed her to pull it the rest of the way off.
“Good boy,” she murmured in his ear, leaning in close for just a moment before she stepped back, “Why don’t you do the rest for me?” She backed up to settle back on his bed, watching him expectantly.
He shook his head, unable to find his tongue for a moment, “Nalyra… I don’t-”
“Uh-uh, A’zael… I didn’t tell you to speak. Now don’t keep me waiting any longer.”
Irritated, at her and himself, he drew in a sharp breath, “I don’t want you here.”
She laughed outright, “Felt to me like you want me plenty, A’zael.” Her dark gaze shifted down from his face briefly.
A scowl passed over his features and he moved toward her despite himself, “Put your clothes back on and leave.”
She smiled, deceptively innocent, “I’m afraid I’ve no idea just where my clothes have gotten off to.”
He gritted his teeth, stopped a short stride away from her, “Then take some of mine, I don’t care. Just get out.”
“We both know you want me,” she smirked again, “And I want you. And I’m not leaving until I get what I want, so you may as well just give it to me.” She reached out, hooked her fingers under his belt and tugged him toward her, undoing the buckle herself in one quick motion before he could grab her hands away.
“Shells, Nalyra,” he cursed, his pants slipping off his hips as he held her hands off to either side.
She laughed, incensing him further, and suddenly he was over her, holding her down, and she gasped softly in surprise, “Well, well… I suppose if you want to take charge, I can let you, just this once.”
He scowled and glanced away, “You’re driving me mad and I don’t want to hurt you-”
“Mm, maybe I want you to hurt me,” she murmured, biting her lip lightly as she looked up at him. His gaze shifted back to her in surprise at that, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer, “You’re driving me mad with all this waiting-”
His mouth was on hers, if only to shut her up, and he finally stopped trying to resist and just gave her what she wanted.~~~
Buckling his pants back on, A’zael glanced around for wherever Nalyra had dropped his shirt, stooping to pick it up and wincing slightly at the sudden burn of the scratches on his back. He cast an irritated glance back at his bed, where Nalyra lounged, looking quite pleased with herself, “Did you have to dig your claws in so hard?”
She laughed and pushed herself up, “I would have thought you’d have a higher tolerance for pain, what with your Thread scars.”
“That doesn’t mean I have a fondness for it,” he growled moodily, conflicted as he slid his shirt back on. He had enjoyed himself with her, but now that it was done the guilt was setting in. Srunae would hardly be happy to know he had shared his bed with her again after what had happened between them. He rubbed one hand over his face, “This was the last time. I gave you what you wanted now don’t come back.”
The soft, dark laugh had him looking over at her again, “Oh A’zael. You’re so cute, thinking you could ever deny me. I would think you would know how impossible that is after today. You still want me.” She retrieved her clothes from beneath the bed and began to dress.
“No. I don’t,” he replied flatly, hating how the lie stole any passion out of the response. She laughed at him again. She was so infuriating. “Dammit Nalyra!”
She made her way toward him and reached up to cup his cheek in one hand, “You can’t escape me so easily, A’zael. I never let my prey get away.” With a singular pat to his cheek she moved past him, “I’ll see you next time I’m in the mood for dragonrider, Weyrleader.”
“I mean it, Nalyra! Don’t come back!” he called after her, but her laugh was the only response he got before the door closed behind her, and he cursed, at her and himself. He didn’t know how to say no, and she knew it.
