#NaNoWriMo : Connors and Nerri

They were close, one plagued by embarrassment and unable to raise her eyes, and the other in the full glory of his delectation. Their hands had touched momentarily, he had moved to wrap the linen about her, but considered the indecency of placing his hands upon her and applied them no further. She was fully concealed, but the linen dampened against her, outlining her estimable curves and affording him something more to consider. He kept his hands at his side but loomed close, leaning slightly and waiting for her answer. Postulations on propriety and whether they were permitted a display of outward tenderness while on duty was felt by each, but once Connors remembered that they were not on duty at present, propriety and shamelessness were thrown aside. He must act if she could not; her parted lips and entreating looks seemed to be beseeching his procession. With what gentleness did he raise his hands to her features, with what delicacy did he remove the wisps of dampened hair from her warm cheeks, and with what avarice did he hold her chin high and osculate her. He began in gradations, wishing to assess her comfort and ease, and when she responded with equal and increasing fervor, he cradled her in the bend of his arm and overwhelmed her.
                Overcome by his ravishing her, Nerri forgot her nakedness and her humiliation. Tremulousness and anxiety soon gave way to exultation and happy ardor, in the midst of which she raised her arms to caress his features, dropping her linens to the grounds and hardly noticing at all. As he kissed her, voraciously hunting after her tongue with his, his hands slid down her strong back and enveloped her, pressing her against his chest. They soon traveled down to the top of her backside, resting there for a moment with hesitation before wondering down to her haunches and crushing her warm and pleasurable flesh within his palms. He pressed and lifted, forcing her to feel that which she was rousing. It was a pleasant sensation, knowing that it had been on her account, but she dared not be too precipitant in her desire to touch him. Her expectations were completely overthrown when he suddenly began to remove his tunic and step forward, pressing her back against the wall while pursuing her affections. His mouth had endured where his hands were better employed tossing his tunic aside and untying his leather breeches. Her mind teemed with revived timidity: her hands pressed against his chest and stomach, and where there had been a barrier even one so slight before, there was nothing there to hinder their connection now. His pale skin warm, his muscular definition apparent, his scars from terrific battles raised as notches: here was triumph enough in her conquest, and though such a pleasing notion did not quiet her vexation, they did not stifle her movement as she had suspected they might have done. Her fingers eagerly traced the outlines of his slender and sinewy form, and though they might have wanted to travel lower and exceed what she considered acceptable conduct on her side, she need not have been apprehensive, for Connors soon devastated any remaining resolve by removing all barriers between them. Her eyes flared in alarm and elation as she pulled away from his lips: she felt him press himself between her thighs, his long shaft grazing her leg. She stared at him without regard, swallowed hard when considering what she wished to oblige, and in perceiving his gratified and appreciative looks, parted her legs slightly to invite him and made a small smile.


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