23 Dove
DOVE
I think I just had the best orgasm of my life. From a woman who was my sworn enemy only a handful of days ago. And with only her fingers on my cunt—we hadn’t even properly taken our clothes off, for fuck’s sake. In mere minutes, she had me breaking to pieces.
This won’t do. I’d intended to blow her away, to make her feel as undone as she’d made me that day by my fireplace.
And while what just happened—feeling so close to her as we shared each other’s breath, coming practically together—was undoubtedly incredible, I wanted to have my way with her.
I wanted to make her feel special and cared for.
And I wanted her goddess-damned pants off.
After quickly arranging my own pants on the ground for a cushion, I kneeled and began to tug hers down.
“Why are these so—oof—so tight?! Impossible to get off. Do you know how frustratingly hot you look in them, slouching all around the manor?”
Mae laughed, finally giving in and helping me. “I think you just answered your own question there, sweet.”
My heart melted at the nickname, but I focused on shimmying the pants down her thighs as she tried to shuck off her boots.
“Hang on a sec, need to remove a few more weapons first. If you’re so intent on getting my leathers off me,” she said, pulling dagger after dagger from an astonishing array of hiding spots on her legs, the back of her waist, and her boots.
“I am.” I grinned. “But my goodness, do you wear all of these every day? It seems a bit excessive.”
“I may have tucked a couple extra in today, for the trip to the priory. Just to be safe.”
Awww. Never thought I’d find an affinity for dangerous weapons charming.
I’d mostly gone for quite femme, soft women like myself in the past, or the occasional polite and quiet gentleman.
But Mae had a sweetness in her own way—she was far more thoughtful, kind, and empathetic than she’d likely ever admit.
And, to be very honest, I must say that the whole snarkiness that had grated against me from the moment we were thrown together also…
really worked for me. Sexy snarls and all that.
But she certainly wasn’t snarling now.
As I finally tugged the infuriating leather pants off her ankles, tossing them aside, she looked down at me with a dopey smile. “What’re you doing?” she said softly.
In answer, I leaned forward, tonguing her through the black fabric of her underwear.
She hissed, gripping one of the pear tree’s branches.
A couple fruits dropped around us, shaken off.
Their sweet scent mingled with the rich musk of Maerryl, and I kissed both sides of her inner thighs.
Slowly, I pulled her underwear down and looked up at her.
“Yes, Dove,” she said, widening her stance. “Yes.”
Parting her brown, wispy hair with my fingers, I took her in for a moment first. Her cunt was wet, glistening, a darkened red that drew me in.
I lapped at her slowly from bottom to top, along the left.
Then again, along the right. Her breath increased, heavy pants that made my nipples tighten painfully.
I explored her everywhere, experimenting.
Taking my sweet time. Testing sensitivity, fingering her folds, trying different rhythms. I wanted to tongue her deeply, so I did—she tasted, oh, like no one I’d ever had before.
Rich and salty, intensely her. Mae cursed when I did, emphatically, so I did it again.
And again, and again. Her head thudded back against the trunk, loosing another pear to the ground.
“I swear to fuck, you’re going to drive me mad,” she breathed, her gaze glazed over as she looked down at me.
I gave her my most mischievous smile and redoubled my efforts, now lavishing her clit with attention.
Her groans of pleasure rang in the air, and I felt my own pussy starting to soak again, that tightly curled sensation of heat low in my belly.
Lifting one of Mae’s muscled legs, I threw it over my shoulder and pressed closer, using the opportunity to slide my hands over her wide, firm ass.
Using my leverage, I tongued her deep again, enjoying the sound of her “Fuck, fuck goddess-damn, fuck me” overhead as I palmed her to my heart’s content, guiding her against my mouth.
Then I moved back to her clit, and pears rained down around us.
Sucking it once, hard, I started in on a quick, lighter rhythm that she seemed to like. She began to inhale rapidly. A tree branch creaked as if she clenched it near breaking.
“Oh Dove, you’re so perfect. Yes, Dove yes, don’t stop please yes.” Her rasps spurred me on, and I slid one hand down to my own pussy as I licked her, just to try and ease some of the near-painful throbbing of my own arousal.
Suddenly, her body clenched. Gasping mightily, Mae came on my mouth.
When she finished, and I’d wrung every last tremor from her body, she carefully lifted her leg from my shoulder, fixing my top with a shaking hand.
I wiped my mouth with a handkerchief and smiled up at her.
Mae pulled her pants up roughly around her hips and then bent down, scooping me under my arms and lifting me toward her.
“Come ’ere,” she said, pulling me tight against the semi-privacy of the pear tree’s full branches.
Humming happily, she nuzzled the crook of my neck, slipped a hand down to squeeze my ass before wrapping both arms fully around me.
I felt perfectly snug in her embrace, delirious with lust and heat. Cherished.
Mae ducked down and found my lips, kissing me so softly. Slowly. I sighed into her mouth, letting my bones go jellylike as she supported me with her strong hold. Had I ever been kissed like this before? As if the other person needed my own air to breathe?
As if she couldn’t live without my touch?
After a while, we parted gently, leaning forehead to forehead and holding on to each other’s warmth. The peace of the orchard around us, just the occasional bird twittering and the breeze moving through the trees, heightened the storm of powerful emotions I felt by comparison.
“That was…” I tried to find the words and failed.
Mae nodded, rolling her forehead against mine. “It was.”
I pressed one more kiss on her lips and stood back, leaning against a branch. Pears scattered the grass around us, casualties from our exertions.
“I suppose we should gather these up and bring them back to Choia,” I said, looking around for a basket. Or—oh, my pants. I’d forgotten I still stood in just my skivvies. Mae moved as if dazed, plucking up my flowy trousers and handing them to me.
“I’ll take care of that. You sit, eat something. We forgot all about this food,” Mae said.
I settled onto the ground once more and looked our tray over.
“Yes, she’d have had our head if we’d left it to the ants.
” I plucked a couple of the tiny insects off a plate before unwrapping one of the sandwiches.
Mae had buckled up her leathers and crouched down around the tree, gathering up all the fallen fruit she could carry.
After dropping off a load on the blanket, she grabbed a big linen napkin from the tray and returned to fill it up too.
“My, we really did a number on this poor tree. I hope they’re ripe enough to use,” she said as she returned, hauling the last of them. Plopping them on the pile, she then threw herself down on the blanket and wrapped an arm around my thighs. She squeezed, smiling adoringly up at me.
A wild giggle bubbled up and out of my throat—what was wrong with me?
—and I took a massive bite of sandwich to smother it.
Choia had made one of my favorites, thick slices of chicken breast with sharp cheddar, strawberries, and just a little bit of olive oil and lemon juice.
Held together by her classic, perfect white bread made fresh that morning, it was utterly divine.
I scarfed half of mine, relishing the familiar flavor, and poured us a couple more glasses of the elderflower wine, now lukewarm, to go with our meal. Maerryl looked lost in thought as she nibbled at a fig. She accepted her glass with a murmured thanks.
“You look troubled,” I said. “Is it… is it because of this, with us?”
“No,” she said, and I relaxed a little. “Not exactly.”
“Then what? Your brother?”
Mae took a slow sip of her wine. “Dove, did you mean what you said at the priory? About helping us?”
I stopped myself from replying immediately, so she wouldn’t think I’d been thoughtless about the offer. Instead, I put down my cup and took her free hand in both of mine, waited until she met my gaze. Her eyes held sadness, worry, and—I hated to see it—resigned wariness.
“Yes. I meant it. I want to help.” I tried to imbue my words with as much earnestness as possible, willing her to believe me.
“Why? Why would you do that? For Balfie, for me. You hardly know me.”
“That’s not true! I know you well enough,” I said, brushing my fingertips over her hand, tracing thin scar lines.
Mae let out a strangled laugh. “We’ve been together for barely a week. And half of that, we were warring.”
“Plenty of time to know the measure of a person. Besides, you and your brother have a dire need, and I have resources to help. How could I stand by knowing that something terrible might happen to you both, if I do nothing? I could never live with myself.”
She shook her head disbelievingly, pulling her hand away. My chest clenched.
“Mae, I’m not joking, and I don’t take this lightly.
You’re a good person—you have a good heart.
I know that. Yes, you can be prickly and defensive, quick to fight with your words and your blades.
But you’re also caring, annoyingly perceptive, and empathetic.
Surprisingly kind, despite what you’d have others believe.
I was an absolute beast to you when you first arrived, and look at us now!
Because you pushed me. You pushed me back even as I was pushing you and the world away. ”