Coming Closer

"In your womb? So soon? That's a bit unlikely, isn't it?"

"I Know. But I'm sure. Its . " She hesitated. "Its not inside me where you are. I mean, its there as well, most of it. But I'm sure it's also deeper. Where you cant go."

He looked at her searchingly, concerned. "Did I hurt you?"

She looked at him, shocked. "No! Good heavens, No! No! Never!"

It crossed his mind that had his essence been truly warmer than that of an ordinary human, the temperature would have adjusted quite quickly. The thought lost all importance when Miloena's nakedness convulsed around him. She looked at him wide eyed, almost shocked, and meeped softly. She shuddered slightly and almost slid off him.

"Its You."She declared, when she had caught her breath. "Your essence! In may Womb. Oh! It burns! " A light sheen of perspiration covered her brow. "Please! Please, more. Please."Her breath came flat and fast.

The twin sun he had planted in her belly threatened to consume her. She had to have more. She needed Altarus. Needed his essence in her, needed his arms tight around her, needed his love to wash through her, needed his manhood to fill her, to assault her senses and feed the raging fires of her passion. Her longing left no alternative.

Altarus felt the anguish of her desire, her passion, and was more than eager to comply. He held her tightly to him again and rolled on top of her, never leaving her warmth. The heat in his loins, the urge to mingle his sex with this female, this woman, this love had far from subsided, nay, his appetite had only just reared its head and blinked. Now it shook itself, roused after decades of sleep, ravenous for the sex of her, lustily hungering for this carnal feast.

Miloena gave in willingly, eagerly, yielding to his driving need. She opened herself fully to him, freely offering her ready rose, her unprotected nakedness, her womanhood to his urgent potency.

He thrust into her, hard and deep. His maleness plunged and stirred the turmoil of the molten honey in her belly. His right hand still cradling her head and his right arm holding her tight to his chest. Her breath caught and she clung to him.

She felt her rose grasp his hard member as he picked up a rhythm like a stormy sea, with crashing waves, some flat and fast, leaving her dizzy, some rolling, towering giants that whipped the fires of the twin suns in her depths and almost knocked the breath from her lungs.

She met him stroke for stroke, brought up her hips to meet his strength, she sought him, surrendered herself to him, to his potent maleness. Bringing her nakedness up so he could penetrate her as deeply as possible. They fed on each other's passion, exchanging whispered words of love and the sounds, the moans and sighs of their lovemaking.

The aroma of their sex rose around them and intoxicated them. The honeydew of her womanhood exuded her, dribbling like crystal beads on a string from her rose, over his scrotum, over her bottom. His twitching, thrusting shaft was flecked with light foam where it lunged in and out of her slick, warm flesh. She ensheathed him like a velvet fist.

She brought her knees up alongside and stretched her legs easily. His right hand slid down and cupped her cheeks, keeping her pelvis off the bed, driving into her, until he touched the buttony mouth of her womb at every stroke.

Miloena softly cried her joy, her passion, her approval at this. She begged him for more. The fire in her womb was too much to bear, the liquid honey in her drew itself together, her nakedness was a pulsating tightness around him, her rose felt as if it were melting and just about to run liquid.

He felt her quickening and his whole being roared in sympathy, in eagerness to send another sun searing into her womb. With his hand on her bottom, he clasped her to him, crushing her swollen rose against him, burying himself in her as deeply as possible, bucking against her.

Her legs scissored around him and drew him still closer. He plunged into her a final time, his entire being centred on this penetration, this sex, this woman he loved. He felt the kiss of her wombs entrance, just where the sun would erupt. The sun came into being, white and brilliant. Her honeydew focused, her senses screamed.

His first pulse pushed her over the edge. The waves crashed and rippled through her abdomen, her rose clutched his pumping manhood, so deeply embedded in her. His sun, his essence spilt inside her, breaking over the mouth of her womb like liquid gold, glowing, incandescent.

Her femininity drank him. The tremors and contractions drew him up, drew his essence deeper. Her voice broke and she clung to him. He felt the entrance of her womb surge, her nakedness deluged with his essence, her rose clasped tightly around the base of his member, still pumping hard. Her rose stung with an unknown pressure, needing release, relief.

"Miloena? Love? My Lady?"

Dazed, she had difficulty recovering. The only muscles still appearing to work were those that held him deep inside her. She smiled weakly and with languorous bliss.

"Yes, My Lord. "

Calling to whichever benevolent deity was listening, she silently offered a prayer of thanks. For what precisely, she did not know. Perhaps simply to be to have survived.

No.

She knew.

This man. This inexplicable, complex person with the patience and kindness of angels, this knight with the fury and precision of demons. This man born of fire, borne in human flesh had offered her his heart and his trust.

The rising fire in her womb was evidence that he had given her a whole lot more. She lost herself in his eyes, briefly remembering what was said about looking into a dragon's eyes. But all she found there was the genuine respect and affection, the tenderness with which he graced her.

At the moment, she had not the strength to caress his face or even to prevent his softening manhood from slipping from her precious embrace, trailing her dew and his essence over her belly. He gathered her in his arms, her back against him and he curled himself around her, shielding her from any intrusive thoughts.

They listened to each other's breathing, lying still for a while. The peace and fulfilment was rapturous.

"Tarus. "

Miloena turned her head to face him. His lips found hers and for a long while, they were lost in the soft gentleness of each other's kisses and breaths.

Though neither slept, Miloena felt as if waking from a dream. When they cuddled to repose, his manhood, not hard but not really soft either, had come to rest beneath her bottom. Now she felt him stir, rising. And as if by design, his manhood slid up between her thighs and rested there, throbbing slightly.

As if touched by a spark, her internal embers roared into flame, Passion licking through her limbs with a heat borne of his essence. With a soft moan, she rotated her hips and pushed back her bottom until her swollen, wet rose winked through the cleft of her twin milk spheres. His eyes devoured her as his hunger was fanned to even greater heights by this evident invitation and he grew hard and erect.

"More? "He queried.

"More. " She murmured.

Without ceremony, he rolled upright and gently pulled her onto all fours in front of him, he kneeled between her legs, her beautiful, petite bottom coming just to his hips.

His hands caressed her back and over her belly, over her erect breasts, ran over her thighs and between them. She mewled as his fingers gently ran over her exposed rose, swollen with their love and their sex. He ran his hands lovingly over her cheeks and then settled to hold her hips with both hands. Pushing her bottom up further to open herself to him even more, she looked back at him with love and hunger in her eyes.

"Please, take me."She breathed.

"With all my love."

Her warmth, her wetness was an aphrodisiac beyond compare or imagination. He felt her tremble slightly and her rose twitched as he slid the engorged head of his maleness inside her waiting sex. Reason threatened to fail again. Her joyously welcome, her femininity, her pure womanhood, which she was offering him, threatened to overwhelm him.

He pulled her body back hard, entering her to the deepest in a single hard thrust. She felt him stretch her wide to make room for his fullness. He forged in as far as he could go, possessing her utterly, touching her innermost depths of her nakedness.

Immediately, he began rocking her against him with voracious carnal urgency. Not fast, but relentlessly strong, he rutted into her. His taut body rippled as cords like steel strained to drive his manhood deeper.

She let him take her, answering his passion with her own, making small noises in her throat when he hit her depths, crying out when he brushed the mouth of her womb. Her womanhood drooled honeydew. Crystal beads cascaded in viscous slow motion from her swollen rose, down her thighs and onto the sheets.

From time to time, she looked back at him past her shoulder with eyes of anguished need. He female nakedness was shaken by tremors, she convulsed around him. She was crying out softly, pleading, calling his name.

Flecks of foam covered his pubis. Her downy mound was matt with wetness. He felt his passion gathering again, a drawing together of his essence, a focusing of all his passion, his love, his sex, his potent maleness. So sweet, it was almost sour.

He felt her body answering his call. She could hardly keep herself on her hands anymore. Her womanhood sucked and drew at his throbbing member, twitching and convulsing. She could feel her honeydew freely running down her thighs. The unknown pressure in her rose demanded, screamed for release, for relief. Her soft cries turned into a steady keening, high but quiet. She sought a hold with her hands in the sheets and tendons briefly stood out.

"Tarus. "

She cried out to him. She felt him pulse and the world ended.

The stars fell.

The sun of his essence shot into her womb. Her filled her, his manhood pumping and pulsating, her light body shaken with the force of his eruption. Her femininity contracted around him and she wailed into the sheets.

Her rose melted, she was sure of it. Her womb was seared, convulsing and pulsating to his rhythm. The unknown pressure in her rose was lost, as was all control. Her woman's essence sprayed from her, pure and white as milk.

She sobbed. Her own warmth spilled over her rose petals and down her thighs. Spilled over his scrotum and his legs. His pulsing within her would not end. She felt his essence making its way out of her to her rose. She tried to contract to keep this most precious gift from her love insider her. But she was full. His flowing seed had nowhere else to go and eased like pearls from her rose and mingled with her own, womanly essence.

She was exhausted. Altarus' hands that held her hips were all that kept her from collapsing.

"My Love, my Lord."She breathed.

"I'm here."

For the moment, he was spent. But the sight and smell of her spilling rose, the feeling and the knowledge that she had spilt her essence for him had so aroused him, had fuelled his hunger for her, his need to have her, penetrate her, sex her, that he was still hard as taut muscle.

His passion raged through his belly and the promise of a sun smouldered in his loins. Without leaving her, Altarus fetched the pillow and rolled it, placing it underneath her hips so Miloena was able to lie relaxed on the bed. Her legs were spread far to either side of him and he supported himself on his knuckles, holding her waist.

Her bottom raised against him, he felt her hot, swollen and very wet rose beautifully exposed between her cheeks. As he began thrusting again, her nakedness convulsed softly around him.

Slowly, powerfully, he rolled his hips into her, gyrating and rutting his manhood into her sex. Feeling her depths, the mouth to her womb, which kissed him every time his member touched it. She shook and twitched. She was too exhausted to make any sound, but her breath came short and punctuated her convulsions and his thrusts.

Her femininity was alive around him. The sun in his loins grew brilliant and full. Her womb pulsed and she gasped. Her rose shed her milk white essence in small trickles with each twitch and convulsion that racked her. She was keening again, barely audible.

Her hands fumbled for him to caress him, as he pressed hard into her. She felt the potent sun rising in him. Felt his manhood swelling inside her and growing hard, so hard, just prior to his eruption.

He gasped and instinctively found the mouth of her womb, pushing into her hard. Her belly throbbed with each pulse of his maleness. She gasped and writhed against him, the delicious honeydew in her belly running freely with her female essence, as it sprayed over his scrotum and into the pillow.

The fiery suns in her womb warmed her as she slipped into oblivion. Altarus felt his essence trickle from her rose and mingle with hers. His eruptions slowly ebbed. His breathing became easier. He held himself in deep inside her for a long space of heartbeats, savouring the aftermath.

He leaned down and kissed her face and her pale blond hair. Still inside her, he rolled her back into the cradle of his arms, curling himself around her protectively. For a while he counted her heartbeats. Then he watched the first rays of dawn fondle the wisps of cloud in the freezing sky.

The sky was turning a crystal clear blue. The blue of peace. No smoke pillars or destruction marred this day.

His thoughts briefly wandered over the horrors and sacrifices of the past fifteen days. Another person might have said that this end, this conclusion, this culmination was worth the price.

But Altarus Wending knew full well that neither was this the end, nor was anything worth being bought with such chaos and waste. He traced the white hairline of her scar with his finger.

But he was glad for the Love of Miloena de Rishgei.

When the first rays of the sun, golden and warm, had cleared the mountains, his Sister's song rose to greet it.

Vaikken was probably standing in her favourite spot in the pavilion that crowned the citadel, overlooking the entire city, valley and the lake. Her voice rose strong as hope and clear as water.

He wondered whether and when she would allow love to find her again. Memory recalled the face of a true friend and brother in arms. They had lost, and most of all, Vaikken had lost Matthew years ago. She could, he was certain, tell him the exact number of days, months and years. Possibly even hours. She still grieved.

Hope. Whilst there is life, there is hope. And hope is what love thrives on. His heart went out to her.

The sun cleared the mountains. The song echoed and dissolved like morning mist.

He finally allowed himself to drift off into sleep. In three short hours, his presence would be required as they sought to bring order back into rubble and organise appropriate care for countless field dressings. Miloena stirred against him and smiled, murmuring in her sleep as her drew her tighter.

Being the hunter that he was, Altarus woke. The three hours were short indeed. But her warm body cuddling against him was compensation enough. All the harder to rise and leave her.

Would have been compensation enough.

As he stirred, her warm womanhood gently tugged at his hard maleness, embedded in her honey depths.

Desire hit him in the belly like a mace. Rising was not an option.

His hand caressed her belly, her breasts and lovingly fondled her cleft. Her rose had retreated slightly but still suckled on his maleness with all the determination of her sleeping love.

Another wave of tremors ran through her nakedness and through her sleeping body. She murmured softly, breathing his name and nestling herself more tightly against his sex.

His essence gathered in his loins, coiled like pure hunger about to spring. Drops of her womanly essence spilled down her rose as he twitched within her, a herald of what was to come. Her womb convulsed with new hunger, teasing, encouraging, pleading for his maleness to send another sun hurtling into her depths.

She contracted softly and the mouth of her womb kissed the velvet harbinger of his potent storm. It was too much. Pure fire, so lovely, stormed through him and, focussed by his passion, sprayed into her, laved her most intimate secret.

Hard, still harder he pulsed within her. Miloena cried out softly and her belly cramped. He cradled her as her essence spilt over his legs and ran down her bottom and her thighs. He felt her contract with his pulsing, tremble and then subside. She meeped softly.

Ever so gently, while her womanhood was still dazed and her consciousness clouded by dreams, he withdrew, trailing their mixed essences and her honeydew. Still she expressed her profound disagreement with a small noise in her throat.

"Rest easy, My Love, My Lady. We have a lifetime ahead. "

He covered her with a sheet and kissed her face lightly, lest she wake. He looked at the sky outside and the shadows on the buildings. Hi time! Dorian, city steward and personal assistant to him, would be knocking on the doors shortly, with fresh water and fruit.

He went into the next room and took a cold shower to drive away the remaining clouds of passion. There was much to be done. He dressed hurriedly and caught Dorian just as he was about to ascend the staircase to the tower Altarus and his sister shared.

"A good morning to you, Dorian. A wonderful day, isn't it? Have you broken your fast yet?

"A wonderful day indeed, my lord. " As predicted, he was carrying a bowl and a crystal pitcher. "No, I have not eaten as yet. "

"Excellent! We will eat together while we talk. Is Clara around?"

Clara was an ancient, slightly wrinkled, but very beautiful elf. Altarus and Vaikken had found her as a slave, under the most unspeakable conditions when they had first come to the City of Wind Chimes, then still called Yarding-by-the-Lake.

Slavery was one of the first things they had abolished. Now Clara served Vaikken as a maid and confidante, apparently happy that way. She, Dorian and a further manservant David were the only ones the guards at the base of the tower allowed to pass up the stairs.

"I can find her."

"Good. Do so. She is to bring the bowl and the pitcher you carry to my chambers. I will meet you, the others and hopefully something to eat in the map room."

This was completely out of the ordinary, but if Dorian found it in any way unusual that his lord should require his sister's maid to bring breakfast to his room for no one in particular, he betrayed it only in a heartbeats pause.

"Very good, my lord. " He hurried on his way.

Altarus left the tower and admired to sunny sky through the windows. It felt good to be alive. He allowed himself a moment more to dwell upon the miracles of life and love. Then he turned away from the windows and towards the halls, leading to the map room.

Fin

All Rights reserved, All Wrongs avenged. Tommy Atkins