Movement 25
Yasmeena
Tempest’s eyes look feral as we head to our tent. We walked the entire way back to Hel’s Carnival in tension filled silence, and it feels like I’m going to explode.
We need to change and get ready to go to The Cathedral, where we’ll invite some lupion to watch our show.
It’s something we’ve had planned for days, so I’m not quite sure why she seems so perturbed.
I thought we were having a good time enjoying the bakery, and the chilly autumn air.
Perhaps she doesn’t feel ready to see members of her pack just yet.
She steps inside, and I follow in after before I remember we need to change.
“I’m going to go talk to Khalid. Change clothes before I get back?” I say, and turn back to the entryway.
Her claw grasps my wrist, spinning me back into her. Holding onto my waist, she pulls my body into hers, and we press against one another. It might be the hottest thing anyone has ever done, and I squirm under her grip, a red hot flush creeping up my neck and onto my cheeks.
I half-expect her to kiss me. Hel, I think I want her to kiss me. Instead, she leans down and whispers in my ear. “We need them to think this is real. Okay?”
I nod and fling my coat onto the floor. Tempest pulls my top over my head as I shimmy out of my skirt. Leaning against the dresser, I unzip my knee-high leather boots. My hands go behind my back, unhooking my bra, until the only fabric left covering me is a sheer pair of lace underwear.
Her eyes drink me in, and I look down at the floor.
Tempest pushes me onto my bed, her teeth grazing my neck as her hand strokes my inner thigh before pulling off the final garment. She uses a finger to circle around the apex of my thighs, careful not to nick me with her claws.
Her head lifts up and she smiles. Tempest doesn’t have fangs, but her canines are more pronounced, the grin equally stunning and devious, before she makes her way down the length of my body. Her tongue flicks my clit, circling it before pressing down hard, driving me wild.
It’s too much.
I moan, my entire body melting as I feel her explore me with her tongue.
My hands fist her silvery white hair, pulling her close as her fingers dig into my hips and I press further into her mouth.
Her warm, soft mouth.
I’ve spent many nights dreaming of those plush, pink lips. Of the way it would feel to have her hands on my neck, her mouth between my legs, her tongue on my cunt.
She stops at once, nipping me with her teeth, and I let out a whimper.
“Please,” I say, and Tempest dives back in, stroking me with her tongue that is just as strong as she is.
I want to die in this feeling, buried by our heat.
The way her tongue sweeps my pussy is all too much. She licks me from entrance to clit and back again, over and over as my muscles tighten, my legs shaking.
I let go of her hair and my fingers move to grip the sheets as she continues devouring me, not allowing me to focus on anything else but this moment and the feeling of her lapping at my cunt, dragging me towards the edge.
Tempest’s tongue finds the most wicked rhythm, and I moan, nearly screaming as I buck against her face, the orgasm ripping through me. My knees are shaking, every muscle in my body spasming as I climax harder than ever have before.
She doesn’t stop. No, she continues licking and sucking my throbbing core until I’m left a sobbing, screaming mess of a puddle.
Tempest finally lets go of the death grip she had on my hipbones and looks up, her steel-blye eyes burning bright with a kind of fire I’ve never seen before. “I need them to understand you’re mine and not to touch. Now, get dressed.”
If I didn’t know better, I’d think she really meant that.
It’s a stark contrast. The wolf who was just pushing her tongue into me, versus the one standing before me now, telling me to get ready. Gone is the softness and the heady touches, replaced by a future leader. Someone trained to fight, not love.
I want to return the favor, giving her just an ounce of the pleasure she’s given me, but she doesn’t seem to want to allow it.
Tempest exits the tent, and I get changed, ready to see The Cathedral.
I haven’t been to The Cathedral in months. With tensions rising more and more over the last couple of months, The Devil’s Masquerade always came to the unanimous decision that missions involving The Cathedral and lupion pack-related issues would fall to Gemma, Absinthe, or Reina.
On the plus side, it allowed me the opportunity to pursue my own personal political interests more, but on the negative it forced me to stay away from many sections of Haeresis.
I want to see it all, especially if I’m going to help lead the felion.
We need to come together as communities, not shy away from each other over differences.
Making the finishing touches on my lipstick, I head out of our tent.
The black fabric of my dress clings to my body. With sheer panels on the stomach and arms, it perfectly showcases both my curves and muscle.
Tempest’s eyes seem to bug out of her head as she takes me in.
I do the same, noting her more casual outfit.
Gray, loose fitted jeans hang low on her hips.
Her shirt is cropped, mostly covered by a black leather jacket, and her accessories match—all silver.
Shiny long hair swoops back into a bun, showcasing the length of her pretty neck.
I want to lick that neck. No, I want to get on my knees, but instead I exaggerate the movement of my hips as I walk in front of her.
We make our way through the entertainment district, and I stare up at the two full moons hanging high in the darkened sky.
Our path is illuminated by street lamps and the night airglow.
The only sounds that fill my ears are the occasional monorail passing, the distant buzz of the katydids, and the sound of my own beating heart.
Tempest makes me nervous. At first, it was because she could hurt me and those I love.
We had to sleep in the same room, work together, and I needed to trust her with my body.
Now, it’s because I can’t tell what we are or where we’re going anymore.
Sometimes it feels like we’re on the same path, ready to take on all of Hel together, and the next it feels like she despises me.
Are we friends or lovers? Accomplices or enemies? How can it feel like we’re somehow everything and nothing all at once?
Hel’s Carnival sits at the upper edge of the entertainment district, so our walk isn’t too far, but my feet still ache from the heels I chose.
I’m used to wearing no shoes at all, but I tried to emulate how I’ve seen Gemma and Reina go out to clubs and bars. I’m definitely full of regrets now, though.
Debating whether or not to go barefoot, my body is lifted off the ground before I can even register what’s happening.
“Hey,” I shout at Tempest, who has lifted me up bridal style, carrying me in her arms. “Put me down.”
“You’re not my Alpha, I don’t have to follow your orders,” she responds, her voice calm and collected.
“We look ridiculous.”
“We look like an engaged couple having a bit of fun.”
I sigh and roll my eyes, but allow her to carry me until we catch sight of The Cathedral. It’s hot and almost romantic, the way her muscles tense as she holds me, the closeness of our bodies touching.
The towering building reminds me of Proditorum, with tall gray stones reaching up towards the sky. Stained glass covers the doors, showing off a large wolf howling at a singular moon.
“Where is the other moon?” I ask as Tempest puts me back down onto the concrete ground.
“The lupion were born from three species. Lycan, demons, and humans. The lycan’s planet only had one moon, which is why that’s all we depict in historical art of our ancestors,” she answers.
“My ancestors were cat nymphs and half-demons, so I sort-of understand,” I say. “I feel a closer connection to the nymphs.”
“Yeah. Nearly everyone here is a demon, half-demon, or hybrid, but I’m proud to be a lupion.”
“You should be.” I give her a small smile.
A dark atmosphere is lit up by colorful lights that glow from different corners of the room.
Tempest leads me towards adjacent barstools, and a handsome lupion takes our order, clearly excited for Tempest to be back.
I try not to stare, but there are a million things happening all at once.
In my peripheral, I see two wolves dancing, their bodies grinding against one another.
Next to us, a half-demon snorts some magical, powdered substance.
The air around us is thick and foggy, with sweat and fur and the crisp scent of magic permeating through it.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask. “We infiltrate selected groups and manipulate them into taking interest in The Sinner’s Circus?”
Tempest looks at me as if I have flesh-eating bacteria consuming my brain.
“What?” I say, lifting my hands up in confusion.
“We’re not infiltrating and manipulating. We’re just going to talk to people and invite them to the show,” she says, her white brows furrowed.
“Is it that simple?” I ask in earnest.
She nods. “Yes. Beautiful nuisance, have you never been to a party before?”
That fucking nickname again. It makes me feel warm and fluttery inside, like caterpillars have built their cocoons in my stomach, sprouting their wings and taking flight.
“I have been to parties, but they’re not the same. Mostly political shindigs where I was working.”
“Felion don’t throw parties?”
I shrug. “I guess when this turf war is over, you guys will have to show us how it’s done.”
The bartender hands us our drinks. Mine comes in a bottle, much like some of the beers, though it derives from apples, not barley. Tempest’s drink is a bright yellow-orange, topped with an orange peel and a little umbrella, and I giggle.
I take my first small swig. It’s the perfect balance between fruity and bitter. Tempest takes a sip of her drink, and I fight back another giggle. “That looks like it tastes sweet.”
“Not as sweet as you.”