The Thief of Virtue Ch. 02

As they walked back to the Old Smithy, exhausted and filthy, Trystan put his hand around Ellia's upper arm, still playing the part of guard. He took the opportunity to lean down to her and whispered, "You have feathers in your hair."

"Yeah? Well you smell like the inside of a chicken coop"

"If the chicken coop was also full of sheep," he added, chuckling.

"...and full of the Widow Pincer - we should wash her in soap and vinegar. Anything's sweeter than she is, the grumpy cow."

"We can bathe when we get back to the Smithy."

"As long as it's together, it sounds delicious," she said with a seductive smile.

Back at the Smithy, they bathed and washed their clothes in the copper tub in front of the fire, trying to purge the smell.

"Argh, my shoulders hurt", Ellia complained, rubbing them. She had fashioned a sort of toga from the blanket as her dress dried. Trystan was completely naked, protesting that he didn't feel the cold.

"Are you hungry?" he asked.

"Not really. What is there?"

"Bread?" he winked.

Ellia groaned. "I never want to eat a loaf of bread ever again," she complained. "Or to smell bread, or even - even hear the word - ugh..." she finished, unable to express her tiredness and frustration. Nevertheless when Trystan placed bread on the table, with some cheese and vegetables, she ate quietly, without complaint.

Ellia was still rubbing her shoulders in pain beneath her blanket-toga; the work had been heavy and exhausting.

"Come here," invited Tristan, rustling in his packet of herbs for something. He crushed a dried leaf in his hands which, to Ellia, looked like any other. A spicy smell filled the room. He pulled her onto his bare thighs, settling her on his lap, and started to rub her shoulders with the herb. She felt her knotted muscles release under the motion of his warm hands, enjoying the tingling of the herb on her skin. Gradually his hands untied her makeshift toga and descended down her back, relaxing muscles she hadn't even known she had.

Trystan enjoyed the feel of her skin beneath him, and the tingle of the herb on his hands. He kissed the nape of her neck as his hands explored lower, and felt her shiver with pleasure. He slid his hands round, pulling her back to his chest. She arched her head back over his shoulder as he ran his hands over her breasts, baring her neck to him. Trystan nuzzled her, kissing, tasting, grazing her skin with his teeth. He was hard already and longing to be inside her, and her moaning was making him crazy. He slid his fingers into her long hair and pulled her head further to one side, biting more passionately into her skin with a soft growl. His other hand roamed freely over her body, feeling every inch of her, grabbing and claiming her flesh. She moaned and squirmed, further provoking his manhood, making him more desperate.

With a fluid movement he bundled her up and flung her onto the table. She gave a little yelp of surprise, still grinning, and there was a clatter of crockery. Trystan laid Ellia back on the table, standing between her legs. He rubbed his fingers over her centre and they came up dewy. He parted her knees further, pulling her open. A sudden desire seized him and, kneeling down, he licked her very slowly, from the bottom of her cleft to the little hooded button at the top. Her delicate flesh tasted surprisingly sweet, although she let out a guttural, animalistic groan which was anything but. He felt her fingers flex into his hair and push his face into her centre. Driving his tongue inside her, he searched for more sweetness until his face was covered in her juices and she was gasping for air, shouting hoarse words he didn't understand.

Standing again between her legs, he looked down on her, still writhing on the table. He lined himself up and heard her moan as he ran his glans up and down her opening. Teasing, he pushed in just a little, and stopped. She tried to raise her hips to engulf him, but he held her down to the table. Her eyes widened as he took the initiative, teasing her. She tried to struggle, but she may as well have struggled against a vice - she wouldn't move unless he allowed her. Trystan pushed in a little further, and his manhood flexed slightly, throbbing in her tightness.

"Please", she begged. "I want you."

Trystan drew away slightly, and pushed in shallowly.

"Please" she whined, keening with need. "I need you. I want you. Inside me." She moaned, flicking her hair. She looked perfect in the candlelight, her skin sheening with sweat and flushed with desire.

Trystan could take it no longer. With a single movement he thrust himself into her as far as he could go, feeling his sack slap against her buttocks as he slid home. He heard her gasp, whispering "yes, yes..."

He pulled out and slammed into her again, watching her hands come up and toy with her breasts. He continued his slow, deep penetration for a while, revelling in the surge each time he entered her. He cupped her mound, his thumb teasing her clitoris as he enjoyed her waves of pleasure. Her arching and soft cries as she climaxed were incredible. "I've never seen her honest, so real, as this moment," he thought, watching her in awe. After a while, she grabbed his buttocks and hips, urging him faster. He resisted her, a teasing grin on his face as she howled with frustration. Her hands descended to his dangling sack. He let out a moan and his pace suddenly increased.

Now he was pistoning into her, quickly, relentlessly, as her fingers excited his sensitive skin. He felt her tickling and exploring him, and he knew that he was lost. The table was squeaking against the floor now as he slammed against her, the slapping sound of their joining bodies an erotic beat to their coupling. With a few final thrusts he rammed into her and held himself there, his back arching as his seed rushed into her. He felt her spasming around him, heard a drawn-out moan, and knew that she had finished again too. Lazily, he thrust a couple more times, enjoying the feeling of her softness and the calmness of the void, before he collapsed down onto her. He nuzzled into her neck, enjoying her freshly-climaxed smell, and felt her lips lay kisses along his shoulder. He against her for a long, peaceful moment, until he felt her tap her hand on his back.

"I can't breathe," she whispered hoarsely into her ear. "You're crushing me."

"Oh, sorry," Trystan apologised as he lifted off her.

He pulled out of her. His seed was dripping down her thigh and onto the table. He fetched a rag and handed it to her, and she cleaned herself off.

"That was different," she said with a smile.

"How d'you mean?"

"You were more proactive, more dominant... I liked it," she concluded with a wide grin. "It was good. Really good. You sure you haven't done this with anyone else?" she teased.

"Only you," was his solemn reply. There was something earnest in his eyes which worried her slightly, but she let it pass. This wasn't the time. She yawned broadly and pulled the blanket back around her.

"Bedtime," Trystan announced. "Tomorrow you have to go to the butcher," he said, reading off the paper of her work detail as they walked upstairs. "And the Mayor in the afternoon," he continued, his brows drawing together. "I don't trust that man."

Ellia shrugged, already in bed, as Trystan blew out the lamp. "He's just an arrogant man in a tin-pot town. What can he do in half a day? It'll be fine."

"I'll be there with you," Trystan said, as much to reassure himself, as he folded her in his arms.

*****