A Tight Fit — Pirate, Neia, Rafael & Vallen (Mature)

"Tight fit, ain't it?"

Crushed between the wall and the Pirate's body, you can't avoid his warm breath on your cheek. You speak into his beard, desperate for space. "I'm sorry," you say, trying and failing not to touch him. He's everywhere. "I didn't know it'd lock behind."

His answering chuckle rumbles through your body. "The big lock on the door didn't give it away?"

You blush and bite your lip because you can't deny it. You were careless, and now you're stuck here. You can’t think of an excuse either, not when his chest is flushed with yours, and his arms are stuck somewhere around your waist.

You curl your hands on your stomach, but they curl on his stomach as well. You feel him tighten his abs at the contact, and your blush plunges to your neckline when you realize how defined they are. Thank the Lord it's dark, or you wouldn't hear the end of it.

It's not that you haven't imagined how it would feel. In the darkness of your shared camp, you have wondered about the taste of the Pirate's skin, the lilt of those strong hands. But only for fleeting moments, sheepish and secret. You're only allies, after all, barely friends. And never, in your wildest dreams, did you imagine you'd end up like this.

"Can you—" You wiggle, trying to free yourself, but immediately stop when he grunts into your hair. With wide eyes, you realize your thigh is pressed against his groin. "Sorry."

The Pirate breathes slowly through his nose. "Stop apologizing." Rough hands grab your waist and slide you to the side. You barely move; there's nowhere to go, but at least you're not rubbing on him. "Can I what?"

"Can you... free your leg?" you ask.

The Pirate looks down. It's hard to see where your legs begin and his end. "Hang on," he says and props his free arm against the wall, right beside your head. He boxes you in as he awkwardly raises his right leg and kicks sideways at the door.

Thud

The wood rattles but holds, and as the Pirate falls back, his hand crams between your ass and the wall. When you jerk at the contact, his leg edges between yours. Your stomach lurches at its grit, the strong muscles evident through the fabric of his pants. It takes all your willpower not to straddle his tight.

Shit," he curses out loud, and you curse silently because he's even closer than he was before. His earlobe is just above your mouth, and you can feel the rasp of his beard against your lips.

Oh God. If you could, you'd clutch the silver cross resting on your collarbones.

"That helped no one," the Pirate grumbles, shifting again to bang the door with his fist. The taunt muscles of his chest rub on your breasts, and you stifle a gasp, mortified by the ripple through your core.

“Maybe the others heard you,” you say, trying to stay positive. “And know where we are.”

“I’m not one to be rescued,” the Pirate grumbles, and you’d roll of your eyes if his knee wasn’t inching closer and closer as he tries to shake the door open. You try to be still, but your muscles tremble, and you clench your thighs.

The Pirate looks down and finally seems to realize where his knee is lodged. His mouth thins.

“It’s our only hope,” you babble, rushing to fill the terrible silence. “The door is —”

The Pirate wiggles his leg, trying in vain to move out of the danger, but his knee grinds into you instead, and your words get caught in your throat. You chew your lip, eyes half-lidded, and try to stop your shaking hands from plunging into his long, silky hair.

There’s a pause.  

Another slow, tentative grind.

You squeeze your eyes shut, fighting back a moan.

"Don't do that," the Pirate says, his voice oddly strained. You dart your eyes up and catch the glint of his pupils looking down at you. Beats of sweat cling to his brow, and you can smell its bittersweet tang, layered within the fog of sea salt and leather, blood, and rust.

"Do what?"

The Pirate lowers his head. Subconsciously, you lift your chin, mouth parting for him. He stops just inches away. "That," he rumbles. "Or a man will start assumin'."

A whole-body shudder passes through you as the flames of desire lick in your stomach. The Pirate's eyes dart between yours rapidly, seeking something, and, experimentally, he moves his hand further down your ass and softly squeezes. You let out a breathless cry, your eyes half-closing.

Through the darkness, you see him smile. It's a dangerous smile. Wild and devilish and devastatingly handsome. "I—"

He rolls his hips against you, and you eat your words when you feel a hardness pressing against your thigh. "I'll be damned," the Pirate says, his hand on your ass, grabbing firmly. "The pious little mercenary has cravings, after all."

He inches his knee closer to your center, and you whine pitifully when he grinds into your core. The Pirate's hot breath dances across your lips, then dips to your jaw. "I thought you vying to be a nun," he says, and it'd sound mocking if he wasn't so hungry.

Your head spins. You feel feverish, dizzy, half manic when, inch by inch, your hand follows the dip of his hip to graze against his bulge, straining for you. "I'm no nun," you whisper, pulse drumming with need.

His chuckle is brief, for the Pirate parts his mouth and latches his lips to your neck. You moan, grabbing him firmly, legs tensing when he rubs his knee on you. The Pirate sucks your skin before moving up, nipping along your neck, his hand moving your rear to meet the roll of his hips.

You call his name, wishing you could hang onto his shoulders, and he answers by biting your earlobe. "Sing blasphemies for me, then," he says, licking along the helix as his free hand sneaks past your shirt to sweep a thumb over your nipple.

God couldn't be furthest from your mind when you arch your back against the wall and wail. You feel his smirk as he leaves open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, your cheek, climbing higher until he's facing you nose to nose. "Look at you, flushed like a ripe peach," the Pirate says, his voice so haggard that your eyes peel open. “I could eat you whole.”

His black hair hangs over his face as you grind shamelessly against each other. His hardness twitches in your grip while your breast is kneaded in his.

"Stop talking," you say, “and come here.”

The Pirate obeys, and you can taste the salt and sweetness of his breath as his nose grazes yours and your lips open to his…

You tumble backward as the door swings open, crashing hard against the ground. You lie there for a while, swollen and dazed. Alessa looms over you, hands on her hips and a disgusted frown on her face. "I rushed to liberate you," she says coldly. "Thinking your cries to be of distress. More fool was I."

Hadrian has his back turned, and you can see the blazing tips of his red ears.

You stumble to your feet but before you can utter a single word, the Pirate comes swagging out of the room, adjusting his pants. "Took you long enough," he says to Alessa before his dark eyes shift to you. "Our friend here almost fainted from lack of air."

You glare, but Alessa clicks her tongue. "Spare me the details," she says, turning on her heels and walking forward. When she passes Hadrian, she slaps his arm. "You may unclench that cross. They have clothes on."

You can only hang your head in disgrace, but as you start walking, the Pirate matches his pace with yours. He looks ahead, his lips perpetually stuck in a cocky smirk. "I'll find you tonight," he says through the corner of his mouth.

And before he picks up his pace, looping an arm over Hadrian's shoulders, he sends you a look filled with dark promises that takes your breath away.

- - -

A pointy bit of rock digs into your leg. You inch away, only to be stopped by a rough. "Cease it."

You obeyed without thinking, but after a moment's pause, you bristle. "It's not like you're not moving," you say over your shoulder. The damned wall of gravel grazes your cheek, chaffing the skin raw.

"I'm trying to get us out," Neia growls from behind. She's lodged behind you, her larger frame dwarfing yours, and you can only thank whatever gods are listening that you ended up on your feet instead of lying down after crashing through the floor to the cavern beneath.

If Neia had landed on top of you, her weight would have crushed you.

You feel the specter lift her long arms out, trying to reach the edge of the cracked floor for the hundredth time. She can't, like you knew she wouldn't, and growls again in frustration. It'd be maddeningly annoying if the sound didn't rumble from her chest to your back, raising goosebumps along your arms.

You swallow dry, letting your body sag. This is a problem. A big, slightly embarrassing problem. So what if you had been fantasizing about Neia's large hands and what she could do with them. So what if, when she wasn't looking, you watched her muscles bulge beneath her skin as she waved that sword of hers and asked yourself if she could handle you as effectively.

So what if, as you are stuck in the hole together, barely able to breathe, you can think of little else but the heat of her long, tall body, the scent of her breath, and the way her breasts flush against your shoulder blades and—

Neia jumps — or tries to jump — and you're lurched violently against the rock. "Ow!" you let out when your cheekbone cracks on the rock. "Bloody stop that, you madwoman!"

"Stop what?" Neia asks. "Trying to save you?"

"If you don't kill me first!"

She scoffs, and, to your disbelief, you feel her flexing her legs as if to jump again. Oh, no, you don't. Angrily, you throw yourself back against her.

Neia grunts in pain, her stomach flexing against your back. You'd note how hard her muscles feel if you weren't so satisfied. "Hurts, uh?"

One large hand drops to your hip. Neia squeezes it in a warning. "I said, stop it."

Just for that, you push against her again, trying to squish her into the opposite rocky wall, when Neia's other hand covers your mouth. You gasp, the sound muffled, when, slowly, you feel her lips graze the shell of your ear.

"Sweetling," Neia says in a voice that isn't sweet; nothing in Neia is sweet, but it tingles pleasantly in your eardrums. "I need you to stop moving. Got it?”

You can only nod against her hand.

Neia's lips curl. "Good."

God's filthy nails. Heat licks your skin as fire spreads throughout your nerves. You're more aware than ever of her, of every inch your bodies are flushed together.

Neia cranes her neck up, giving up on the idea of jumping; she raises her left leg. It's tangled with yours, knee pressed on your inner thigh, so when she lifts it, she lifts your leg along with it. You feel your waist shift as your center of gravity slowly rotates. And you hear her controlled breathing, bathing your hair. "I’ll try to untangle us," Neia explains, and maybe it's wishful thinking, but you think her voice is rougher. "When you get the space, get off me."

You nod, mind miles away.

The more her leg rises, the more your rear digs into her navel. There are no signs Neia notices, but you certainly do. Flushing, eyes burning, you bite your lip to keep embarrassing sounds from slipping out. Finally, it gets to a point where Neia can't lift her leg anymore, and she lodges her foot in a slight protrusion in the rock.

Neia's fingers leave your mouth, hand flattening in the rock in front of your face. If she was anyone else, you'd think she's protecting you from the rough rock. "Try to get your leg out," Neia commands.

Easier said than done. Balancing on one foot is hard enough, but without hands to support you, you can't possibly retrieve your leg over hers. "I can't. I'm slipping away."

There's a moment of pause, and then, you yelp when she grabs your hip and hoists you fully onto her. You're sitting on Neia, her fingers sprawling on your hips and her chin digging into the crook of your neck. "Try now."

Butterflies flap around in your stomach, but you try, using her arms as an anchor. Slowly, your inner thigh aching from the effort, you slip your leg free from hers. "Got it!" you say excitedly.

"Can you turn around now?"

Your smile dies at her utter indifference. "You love giving orders, don't you?" you say bitingly but do as you’re told, wiggling around. Neia feels like a second wall, even more jaded than the rock, but after many grunts and one embarrassing slip of your hand, you find your head flushed against Neia's bosom.

Her scent invades your nostrils, sweat and rosemary, and when she speaks, you feel the rumble against your lips. "Climb me."

You snap your head up and are met with two yellow eyes. They're piercing, seeming to look into your very soul. Your lips part, and 'okay' on the tip of your tongue—

"Are you deaf?" Neia barks. "Use my body to climb out of this hellhole."

You resist the urge to kick her. Using more force than necessary, you hook your hands over Neia's shoulders and pull as hard as you can. Your body slithers along hers, and you squeeze your eyes shut at the overwhelming contact. Neia grunts, doing her best to help you along, but it's not until your navel is past her shoulders that she finally frees her hands.

"Neia, a bit more and— Ah!" You yelp again when Neia puts her hands on your ass and hoists you with one swift push. You fly past the rim until then feel the earth's pull, reverting back, but you stick your elbows out and catch yourself at the edge of the cave-in. "Ahah!"

You laugh, and below, you hear Neia's "yes!". It's easy from there. You lay on your stomach, shaking your arms as pins and needles bring feeling back to the nerves, and reach a hand down for Neia.

The Dawnseeker barely needs your help. Now that she has space, she props herself against the wall and, feet planted on the opposite side, climbs out of your prison. Still, in the last meter, she grasps your hand, and you hoist her with you, gritting your teeth at her might.

Once it's done, you roll on your back and gulp down fresh air, feeling sweat and grime cling to your forehead. Neia flops down beside you, her chest heaving up and down.

You watch the clouds up above, the freedom of the boundless blue sky. "We did it," you say at last.

Neia doesn't answer right away. She rises on one elbow, and you feel her eyes on you. You turn your head just in time to catch her descend. "We sure did," she says and then lays her lips over yours.

You splutter into the kiss, eyes widening as she cups your face with one large, scarred hand and covers your body with hers, warm and heavy and utterly perfect. "This is the part when you kiss me back, sweetling," Neia says, scar grazing your lips.

You lift your hands, grabbing her biceps. "And this is the part you stop ordering me," you whisper, but if her smile is anything by, you don't think she plans on stopping.

No matter. As Neia suckles your lower lip, gently rolling it in her mouth, before her tongue darts deeper, your eyes roll back once she settles between your legs. She can bark commands all she wants; the sighs and grunts licking your ears tell you everything she refuses to: Neia is as drunk for you as you are for her.

 - - -

"Ow."

You turn your head, wanting to melt into the wooden floor, when you feel Rafael crawling up your body, shifting his hips from your knee to the valley between your legs. "Can you not come up?" you whisper, and you want to sound commanding, but all you can muster is a whiny complaint.

"I gotta protect my family jewels," Rafael says from above, slowly moving his knee up so your right leg hooks above it. "Ya keep knee 'em."

You don't even want to look at him. Not when his chest is bearing down on you with the familiarity of a lover, and his stupid breath makes your eyelashes flutter. And why the hell is your heart fluttering along with them?

"That is a disgusting way to put it," you muster, hands curling on the dusty floor below.

His arms box your head now, and you can feel Rafael trying his best to hover above you, but the crawlspace you're unfortunately stuck in is too low-ceiled, and all his shuffling does is press down on places in your body the bastard should never have access to.

"My bloodline depends on 'em."

Your lips curl in disgust. "If you're its only hope, it's lost already."

Rafael chuckles, the sound low and much too intimate. You steal a glance at him and find him wearing an amused smile as he looks down at you. That's the other thing, too. He hasn't stopped looking at you.

You feel warm and slightly dizzy, and you hate it when he falls into another silence. The man can't stop talking, and now is the time he finally learns how to close his mouth?

For the hundredth time, you lift your hands, now jammed awkwardly underneath his arms, and try the bolt on the ceiling. It's still stuck. You shake it, perhaps a bit more urgently than needed, but the darned thing doesn't give. You would yell if you weren't supposed to be quiet.

You take another peek at Rafael; once again, he's looking down at you. "You don't seem overly concerned," you hiss, wanting to take your anger out on something.

Rafael tries to shrug, but the effect is more of a slight jerk than flushes your chests together. "Can't be, with you squirming against me."

"I'm not squirming!" you protest, hating the whine in your voice. "I'm trying to unlock this thing!"

Rafael doesn't answer. His brown eyes are darker here, in the dusty underground. They seem fuller, too, somehow more alive. You don't want to notice, but you're unable to ignore his musk filling your nose.

You look away, loathing that you were staring. "Raf, the others—"

"I don't care about the others." Rafael sounds breathless, his voice clipped with zeal. "You're so goddamn beautiful."

You hitch a breath, surprise and bashfulness mingling into one. Slowly, half afraid of what you'll see, what you'll admit to yourself when you do, you turn your head and look into Rafael Borja's eyes.

They are burning. And oh, so handsome. "Raf..." you hear yourself whispering, not knowing what to say. How to say it. You want to close your legs, but he's in the way. He's everywhere.

Rafael lowers his face, speaking just above your lips. "Let me make ya feel good," he begs, the words shooting heat through your nerves. "You don't have to do anything."

Your nails drag on the flooring. "What?"

He looks between your eyes and sees something in there because Rafael covers the distance and melts his lips with yours. A small, embarrassing sound escapes you, and your neck curves up to meet him. The kiss is so soft, and Rafael is gone quickly as if he fears lingering so as not to overstay his welcome.

"It don't need to mean anything," he says, kissing the dip of your chin just below your lips. It feels like a speck of snow in your heated skin. "I just wanna make you feel good."

He kisses along your jaw, stopping beside your earlobe. You're trembling beneath him, waiting with bated breath like a nervous virgin. Rafael kisses your cheekbone next, the soft skin below your eyes, then lifts his head to plant a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You close your eyes, overwhelmed with it all. You've never had anyone touch you so... reverently.

Lastly, Rafael returns to your mouth, another fleeting kiss, another jolt down your spine. "Yea?"

You part your lips. "Yes." And feel his smile when you kiss him.

Rafael melts into the kiss, his body sagging above yours. If you thought he was touching you before, now Rafael drapes over you. His weight presses down deliciously, making you short-breathed, and his lips work to steal all the remaining air. He kisses each lip slowly, as if trying to memorize the shape of them, one hand gently cradling your cheek. He seems to be less kissing you and more drinking you in.

You grab onto his shirt, and with each pull of your fingers, Rafael moans into your mouth.

If you weren't lying down, you'd swear you were spinning.

You part your lips, your tongue seeking entrance, and your back arches when Rafael meets you. The kiss deepens, but not enough. Your nails curl on his shirt, wanting him closer, wanting him—

But he breaks the kiss, heaving breaths bathing your cheeks. "Why..." you begin, but Rafal silences you with a gentle peck.

"Shh," he says before he tilts your chin up and latches his lips on your throat. You close your eyes, shivering when he kisses every inch of your skin. Each press of his lips is done with care, deliberately, and you can't shake the feeling he wants to touch every inch of your body. "You're addictive," Rafael says, kissing the dip between your collarbones.

"A goddamn treasure," he continues, his soft, maddening kisses trailing to your chest. His hands hook beneath your tunic, and he lifts it slowly, palms raising goosebumps on your skin. "So, so warm and soft."

He manages to take off your tunic in the cramped space and then your shirt, and Rafael wastes no time lapping at your bare skin. He kisses one nipple, then the other; his wet tongue circling them sends electric jolts to your lower stomach.

He trails now in the valley of your chest, his hands on both sides of your ribs, holding you with the utmost care. Your poor lips are swollen and raw with how hard you bite at them, stifling sighs and gasps as the thief kisses your stomach, teeth lightly grazing your belly button, then down your navel, each side of your hips.

And his clever fingers start undoing the clasps of your pants. "I know ya gonna taste like heaven," he mumbles, open-mouthed kisses on the skin above the rim of your pants. "And you'll ruin me for everyone else. I won't—"

Bright light invades your eyes as the lid to the crawlspace is thrown open. You gasp, covering yourself, but Rafael is quicker, shooting up your body to shield you from view. Blinking, half-blind, you see a blue head peeking over the lid.

A pause.

"Should I close it back down?" Lance asks, his gold tooth flashing.

"Yes," Rafael growls.

"No," you squeak.

Lance's smile widens. "Well? Make up your mind, you sneaky lovers."

You grab your shirt. "Get me the hell out of here," you say, unable to look either of them in the eyes.

When you're finally free, and with the others, Lance's knowing, stupid smile never abating, you notice Rafael trailing behind. He's looking down, a frown on his face but a forlorn look in his eyes. You... hate to see him so.

So, you walk up to him to whisper near his ear. "I want it to mean something."

You didn't think it possible for someone to have stars in their eyes, but the look Rafael gives you can't be described as anything else.

- - -

You only have time to cup the back of Vallen's head before you go crashing on the ground...

And through the ground.

You feel her nails dig into you as the wooden floor breaks, and you plunge together into darkness. "Devil's cock," you curse, body turning on itself, Vallen your only anchor. She clings to you as you go tumbling in the open air, and when the ground rises up to meet you, your body softens her fall.

You don't know whether it's been minutes, hours, or millennia. You lost consciousness, of that you're sure, but you blink awake now, eyelashes filled with dust and sulfur on the tip of your tongue. "Argh." You cough up blood, feeling a sharp stab in your ribs.

Did you break one or several? You go to feel the area, but your hand is caught by another. "Hurting?" A soft voice comes to tickle your ears. You blink the dust away, and your blurry vision makes sense of a heart-shaped face hovering above you. Round eyes take you in. "Where?"

You roll your tongue in your mouth. "Vallen?"

She shifts her body, and only now you realize you're not crammed beneath a boulder but underneath her. "Expecting someone else?" she sing-songs.

You let your head fall to the ground. "I expected death," you croak.

"Because of a little fall? Don't be ridiculous."

You crank an eye open. "Where are we?"

The woman folds her arms over your chest, dragging her upper body forward until her face is right above yours. She smiles a toothy smile. "Some kind of storage room," she says, fingers lightly tapping your collarbones. "But there's a problem."

You cough a laugh, feeling blood coat your throat. You're not in pain, per se, but you fear that, once you move, you will be. So, you stay still under Vallen, not strong enough to question why she seems so comfortable straddling you. "Of course there is."

Vallen lifts a finger and taps it on something above her head. You squint your eyes and see a dark shape. "Is that a coffin?"

Vallen laughs, the sharp, blunt sound marking its sincerity. "You truly are funny; did you know that?"

From the darkness, her ivory skin stands out like a ghost. But she doesn't feel like a ghost as she lays over you. Her legs straddle your sides, thighs warm and firm over your stomach, and there's a heat emanating from her center that is slowly awakening your senses.

"Hm?" Vallen interrupts your musings, tapping the same finger on your chin. "Are you about to pass out?"

Your mark pulses, but you ignore it. "No," you say and look past her head. "What's that?"

"A shaft from the ceiling," Vallen reveals. "It seems to be lodged right on top of us, which means we are trapped. Isn't that thrilling?"

You sigh, bringing more blood from your throat to your mouth. "Terrific," you say.

Vallen plops down on your chest, arms sprawling to your neck. "Don't worry," she whispers, her lips curled in a smile as if she finds it all a game. Perhaps she does. Perhaps it's why she's tracing patterns in your skin with the pad of her fingers. "I can hear people above. They're clearing the way."

"People whose business we just exploded," you point out.

Vallen shrugs. It makes her chest flush with yours, and you can feel the shape of her breasts. It's a pity you cast Juturna aside. It'd be good to have a name to focus on as Vallen's mint breath invades your nostrils. "Then we kill them," she says causally.

Your mark ignites, agreeing. "If I can fight," you say, feeling the ache in your spine.

Vallen laughs again. "Of course, you can," she says, her hand rising from your neck to brush along your jaw. The touch isn't gentle. There's an intent there, a possessiveness you've been noticing in her lately. You assumed you've been imagining, but here, with her draped over you, it's hard to stay oblivious.

"You can do anything," Vallen breathes out.

You study her. Her eyes are intent on you, her red lips parted, and her braided hair falls over her shoulder, the golden strands begging to be tugged. There's color on the high bones of her cheeks, flushing the pale skin to a pretty pink.

Uh.

You arch a brow but do nothing, wanting to see where she will take this. Vallen catches onto the challenge, as you knew she would.

Slowly, Vallen bends her head, and something wet licks a strip against your mouth. Your body ignites. She leans away, eyes fluttering closed as she tastes your blood. Your hands shoot up from the ground and lock onto her waist.

Vallen peers into your eyes. "You once said something to me," she whispers, her hand curling on your neck and her legs clenching you to her. She leaves a soft little kiss on your eyelid. "That's been rattling in my brain ever since."

You stay silent, not wanting to interrupt. You're fascinated, in a way, by the tilt of her voice and the texture of her skin. Vallen breathes in and starts peppering your face with little kisses, tongue darting out occasionally to lick at your skin.

She avoids your mouth, toying with you, because Vallen is never simple. Your fingers clench her hips, thumbs digging into the bones, but otherwise, you're a statue below her.

You think Vallen enjoys it. "You said that in another life, another time." She drags her hand, fingers sprawling over your mouth. Vallen looks down at you with dark eyes, but so round, like two voids. "We could have been soulmates. Do you remember?"

You rasp a low chuckle. "Somewhat."

Vallen smiles, baring her teeth at you. "You were wrong," she says and crushes her lips with yours. The kiss all teeth, tongue, and blood. You lift your head from the ground, giving as good as you're getting, as Vallen's nails mark red lines on your skin. She tugs your hair, deepening the kiss with a hunger that almost shocks you.

How could you have missed her intentions? You thought she didn't care about matters of the flesh, but when she sucks your lip, clamming down with her teeth, all doubts vanish.

The space is crammed, and your body aches in places you didn't know you had, but you half-sit up, Vallen shifting to straddle your lap. You loop your arms around her, pulling her chest to chest, and she giggles into your mouth when your head hits the wooden shaft.

Her giggles soon turn to moans, blessing your ears. You move against each other in sync, even when everything is so foreign. She arches her back when you squeeze her curves, exposing her neck, and you bite down at the skin. She's sweet. Oh, so sweet. Your blood drums, the feeling akin to bloodlust, and perhaps it's the same. It matters not. You kiss and bite, matching the roll of her hips with yours. Your clothes are restricting, burning your flesh, but you don't want to part long enough to pull them off.

Vallen's hands sneak under your shirt, exploring the wide expanse of your back. "You were wrong," she says, nails scratching deliciously. She brings her lips to your ear. "We don't need another life. We are made for each other in this one."

You're not really listening. Turning your face, you catch her lips again and—

Creak

You both halt. A beam of light slinks past a crack in the wooden shaft and keeps widening. Voices speak on the other side, and axes shake the ground.

You catch Vallen's eyes with yours. "Well..." Your hand leaves her nape to curl on the pommel of your sword. "Back to business."

The Red Guard laughs.