~ 19 ~
SAbrI
I’m still trembling through the aftershocks as Anya slips her fingers out from between my legs. The shifting pressure causes another wave to wash over me, followed by a sense of emptiness.
“Good, hmm?” Anya’s voice is smug. It’s particularly irritating because she’s right—it was amazing. Much better than my hesitant explorations alone.
My head feels as murky as the water, fuzzy with fading shocks of pleasures. There’s the brief thought again that this is dangerous—after all, I know Anya is just playing with me. But as my awareness seeps back in, it strikes me that this isn’t fair.
How come Anya gets to be the only one taking?
She just did unspeakable things to me, bringing me to a high I’ve never experienced before. I want her too—I want to see her come undone beneath my touch until she’s as wrecked as I feel.
“Get up,” I say, ignoring how rough my voice sounds.
“What?” Anya blinks, all cocky self-assurance.
“I said: get up.” That’s an order.
Anya glances down, then back up. “Even if I wanted to, I’m a little…” She jerks her chin at where I’m still splayed over her lap. With my thighs pressing her into the rocks, there’s no easy way she can move.
Curses.
With my muscles screaming in post-orgasmic protest, I swing my legs until I’m off of her. The water sloshes around us.
“And now?” I say.
“Now what?” She crosses her arms with a smirk on her kiss-flushed lips.
The blissful haze of orgasm has dispersed; it’s quickly being placed by the mix of frustration and allure that I’m rapidly learning to associate with Anya. I’ve taken more than enough sass from the other woman. She thinks she can drag me down here, barrage me with her wild Thieves’ Guild conspiracies, seduce me, and get away with all of it?
Not on my honor as princess.
I smile.
Anya immediately tenses up. “Sab, whatever you’re—”
Dropping into a martial stance, I plunge my hands into her armpits and shove upward. It’s nothing at all like sparring with the captain or other members of the guard; Anya is tall but lean, and not wearing any armor. It’s easier than I had planned to knock her back over the edge of the pool.
She gasps as her naked back hits the wet tile, but as expected, her instincts are sharp. She immediately tries to roll to get back on her feet.
I don’t let her. I lunge forward, hurdling over the ledge to grab at her legs.
“What the actual fuck, Sab!” Anya squirms and kicks out. “If it was that bad, I’ll apologize. No need to attack me!”
“Stay still.” I dodge her foot, reaching for it as she kicks by me. The limb is wet and Anya’s irritatingly good at slipping away—it takes a few tries before I’m able to restrain her beneath me.
Anya continues to struggle as I catch her wrists and slam them over her head.
“You know,” I say, “if you just do what I tell you to, it won’t always have to come to this.”
“Noted.” Anya’s laugh is breathless. “And ignored.”
I shift my grip on her wrists so I can lean closer to her face. “I’m starting to think you actually like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like me. Holding you down.”
“Perish the thought.” Anya’s smirk tells a different story.
That information seems dangerous—maybe in a good way. Which leads me to my next issue. I’ve got Anya restrained for the moment… now what do I do?
Anya lays beneath me. She’s lovely with her long form and tanned skin. Steam from the bath rises softly from her; my eyes follow the black ink that curls from her shoulders to the tops of her thighs. The piece of art that is her body is further painted with scars. The healed flesh dots her skin almost like stripes on a tiger.
I swallow. She’s really attractive.
My books on consummation had contained a lot of terminology and general concepts. A fair amount of it was over my head, even the pictures, and some diagrams had been too obscene to stare at for long. What I’m realizing now, however, is that the books sorely lack when it comes to the emotions involved. Not a single one in the royal library warned me about how it feels to have a woman under you. None mentioned the thought-shattering desire that wracks your brain and body alike.
In contrast to the raging fire in my mind, Anya has gone still beneath me.
“Sab?” she says. The uncertain tone in her voice yanks me back to the moment. “Not gonna lie, seeing you sit still freaks me out.”
Her words echo through the cavern. The water, stirred by our actions, continues to swish rhythmically behind me. It occurs to me I’m wasting precious time.
What would Anya say? ‘Fuck the books’, probably.
She would be right. If the books can’t help me, then I’ll just have to go on instinct.
“Anya,” I say.
“That’s me.”
“I want to try something. Will you let me?”
“Depends on what kind of ‘try’ you mean.” She tilts her head. Strands of dark hair slip to the ground beneath her. “Are we talking princess’s first sex-periment, or you’ve come up with a new way to torture me?”
I raise an eyebrow.
The corner of her mouth sneaks into a smirk. “Because the answer to both would be yes.”
That’s it. I grab her leg.
She squirms as I tug her toward me, perhaps rougher than I could have. Her smile flickers for a moment as I adjust my grip on her.
The books were very academic-focused and methodical, but there were a few positions presented that I recall. I wish I paid closer attention now.
I believe it went something like this…
I rock backward, gaining the momentum I need to swing my leg over Anya’s thigh. The hard tile presses into my bare knee, but I’m barely aware of it. I adjust my grip on Anya’s other leg, hoisting it higher.
“Oh?” Anya laughs lightly as she tips her head forward to watch me. There’s something different in her dark eyes. The cocky humor is still there, but it’s accented with curiosity now. “This is a little advanced for you, Sab. Maybe you ought to lie down. I’ll take over from—”
Her words shift into a groan as I dig my fingers into the flesh of her thigh and push her leg back. With one leg trapped beneath me and the other being forced back, her legs part. It’s a great view.
The thin dark trail that starts at her navel gets wider the lower it goes, leading to a grove of dark hair. The black strands are a stark contrast to what they’re hiding. With Anya spread like she is, I have an immaculate view of soft, pink flesh.
I really want to touch it; a shame my hands are full. I remind myself I’ll get to feel her in an even better way soon, if the books were telling the truth.
“Sab,” Anya says, and her voice is slightly strained. If it was someone else, I’d think they were embarrassed, but Anya doesn’t seem the type. “Sure is taking a while. You should let me—”
“Quiet.”
It’s a bit awkward to fit myself between her thighs like this, and the rough ground isn’t helping. But with a few adjustments, I’m able to press my hip against the back of Anya’s thigh. This helps to keep Anya’s leg up and lines us up—we’re almost close enough to touch in one of the most intimate ways possible.
With my legs spread across hers, my core is just a breath away from Anya’s. We’re not touching, so it’s hard to rationalize why my pussy is already back to dripping wet.
There’s something about having Anya—not just any person, but Anya —beneath me, legs pushed wide open and completely bare. It’s a kind of power I haven’t experienced in my entire life.
Anya shifts and I swear she’s pushing herself closer to me. It almost makes me want to tease her, but I can’t resist any longer.
As I press myself against her, sensations erupt throughout my body. My mind goes white. Anya is scalding heat and it can’t be my imagination that she’s just as slick with excitement as I am.
The intensity of having her so intimately tears a groan out of me. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, but I want to see her.
Anya’s head falls back. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, causing the dark swirls of art across her breasts and shoulders to dance every time she takes a labored breath.
When she trembles, I can feel it through where we’re connected. It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before—I never want it to stop. Any doubt has vanished like the space that used to be between us. The only hint of regret lurking at the edges of my mind is that we waited so long to do this.
“C’mon, Sab,” Anya says. Her eyes are lidded and darker than ever. “Or is that it?” She pushes her body back against mine. The pressure is great, but it’s not quite where I want it to be.
A powerful wave of desire rocks my body. I need more.
“The books aren’t such a big help, huh.” Anya rocks against me again, but her movement is limited with one leg trapped. “Show me those muscles aren’t just for show.”
I’m vaguely aware that she’s taunting me, but the pleasure obscuring my thoughts changes her words. Rather than be annoyed, her rocking desperate beneath me is sending me to a whole new high.
I lean backward. Using one hand on the ground to brace myself, I roll my hips forward. My pussy presses against Anya’s and I grind us together with a wet slide. The bliss that cascades through my body is transcendent.
Anya is no better off—her moan is divine; it echoes lewdly through the cavern.
I rock forward again, adjusting the angle slightly. It’s tricky trying to get the press right where I want it, and I have to judge Anya’s reactions at the same time. Still, I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Anya matches every thrust, rocking her trapped hips as best she can. Her head is thrown back, her chest heaving. Every grind of my clit against hers has my vision swimming in the best way, but I strain to keep my eyes open. I want to see her like this—my nemesis and best friend, fucked apart on the floor beneath me. I’m going to burn it into my memory forever.
“Ah… Sab….” Anya moans again.
I clench my teeth. The pleasure is building quicker than I’d like. I don’t want this to end, but I’m already so worked up from earlier, and Anya’s debauched moans aren’t helping.
“Ah, ah…” My hips jerk as I thrust them, slamming us together harder and faster than before. My clit grinds against Anya’s. It’s so heavenly good that I’m losing control, but I can’t seem to slow down and stopping was never an option.
“Anya—please, fuck…” I’m not even aware of the words slipping out of my mouth.
She groans, but the sound is lost as she presses back equally hard to meet me. I’m so deep against her that I’m no longer sure where she ends and I begin—all I know is the wet slide and searing press of our bodies slitting together like they were made to do this.
It’s too much. With one last thrust, I tip over the edge. My hips jerk erratically as I come for a second time.
Anya is pleading, her soft moans and filthy words enough to keep me going. I cling to the pleasure and push through the sensations—urging my hips to continue moving. It draws out my own climax; I’m pulsing between each slap of our hips.
Anya’s legs tighten. Her hips lift off the ground as much as they can. Her voice cuts out and I can feel her coming undone against me.
My thrusts slow. I’m almost delirious as I untangle our legs. With exhaustion pulling me forward, I lean down and collapse next to Anya.