My first adult fic(: This story revolves around two characters I had created for a roleplaying site. I hope yall enjoy. (/ajsjs/ = Italics)
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They walked down the muddy path in silence, Caine McQuinn, the hunter, and Lady Neveah, the noble. Each of them ambled on thinking about the events that landed them in the current situation. If the Marchioness hadn't pushed her daughter into an arranged marriage Neveah never would have run off. If McQuinn hadn't needed coin so bad he never would have agreed to help track down the rogue bride. If only Neveah's family understood her she never would have been forced to marry. If McQuinn had followed in his father's footsteps he wouldn't even be in a position to accept the family's plea. Pretty soon they were both "if-ing" the day they were born.
Caine had finally caught up with the runaway bride after tracking her for two weeks. She had stopped at a tavern in a rundown town, cities away from her home, to eat and ask for directions. /Typical woman/, he thought. Her blonde hair was too clean, and her frock was too nice so she stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the few patrons in the shoddy bar. He took a deep breath before stalking up to her stool. She felt his stare boring holes in her back, and she turned around moments before Caine put a restricting hand on her shoulder. Recognition and fear showed in her eyes, and she attempted to dodge his thick arm, and run off behind him; that didn't really work out for her. He grabbed her around her slim waist and attempted to drag her out of the bar. The few men in the bar didn't even pry their eyes from their drinks to look at the ruckus. Large men dragging off pretty girls must have been a common occurrence in that town. Neveah noticed this and shuddered. Well, Neveah had no intention of going easily and threw her 110 pounds around as best she could. Finally, Caine just tossed her over his shoulder like a freshly killed doe, and if she wasn't so upset she would have noticed the nice feel of his hard muscles beneath her, his sculpted ass, and his warm breath heating the cotton covering her thighs. But, Caine did notice how her full breasts pressed against his back, and he couldn't help but brush his stubbled cheek against the soft, roundness of her upturned derriere. /All in the scuffle/, he told himself.
He carried her towards home until she ceased her kicking (which was surprisingly a long while), resigned to her fate. She refused to talk, and McQuinn wasn't much of a socialite, so together they traveled in silence.
Now here they were. Half a day's walk back home when it began to drizzle and darken. The hunter looked up into the heavens, and predicting a wild storm, made the decision to stop for the night.
"We need to stay off the road, and find somewhere to sleep", the hunter explained as he directed his captive into the forest.
"What? Here?" The Lady blanched. The man surveyed her person. Clean blonde hair, clear, fair, skin, white clothes. /Heh, this'll be fun/, he thought sarcastically.
"Yes, here. I don't exactly have reservations at a lavish five star hotel." She huffed and followed him passed dark trees. Things weren't going her way at all today. Caine shoved his satchel at her and told her to light a small fire.
"If you think you can manage that, my /Lady/," he added snarkily. Neveah huffed. She wasn't useless. Before soon a fire was built, and a shelter made. A shelter, Lady Neveah soon learned, was for one person. She was speechless.
"You," Caine said as he settled comfortably under the makeshift roof, "can build your own. I am paid only to return you to your family; not to pamper you."
"But... what about wolves? And... and bugs!?" Caine scoffed. "Now, how did you expect to survive on your own? You sure are unprepared for a runaway." Truth was Neveah's 'escape plan' got a little fuzzy after the part where she slipped out of her family's manor. "You're a big girl," he continued," figure something out." With that he plopped unceremoniously onto his back under the shelter and watched her retreating back. Her slim, unblemished back...
/Gods, it's been so long since I had a good fuck/. He sighed to himself. When Caine wasn't working he lived in a cabin in the woods, alone, but that didn't stop him from seeking female companionship... or more so them seeking him. After his first romp in the hay (quite literally), he found he was rather good at that ever so important act, and that women were rather good at gossiping. His dick had barely dried when another lonely widow propositioned him. It was a small town, and bored wenches needed something to do, something, or rather /someone/, different than tired farmers and clumsy drunks. But, once you've had one wench you've had them all, and Caine was aching for something different. Something /aristocratic/. He looked up and saw Neveah carefully placing leaves on top of precariously placed branches when lightning blinded the earth, and her pitiful roof collapsed on itself. He unsuccessfully stifled a snort at her pout.
"Come here, Milady. I can't very well have you catching a cold." He moved over to give her space as she eyed him distrustingly and settled in. Her white dress clung to her body wet and translucent, and he got a quick glimpse of a dark areole before she crossed her arms over her chest. He drank in her damp blonde ringlets and petite body while she feebly attempted covering herself.
/Just look outside. Don't pay attention to him. Don't pay attention to him. Don'tpayattentiontohimdon'tpay/—"What are you doing?" She screeched. The hunter had placed a large hand on her shoulder and pulled a sleeve down.
"You're soaked. It won't do your health any good if you stay in cold, wet clothes all night. Take them off."
Neveah's mouth dropped open unattractively. "That's ridiculous! I'm not undressing. Here, in the woods, with you! You're mad!" He gave her a condescending look, a look much like a mother would give her ornery child.
"Do you know what happens to people that freeze in the forest? The tips of their fingers, toes, and nose chip off. Their eyes freeze shut by their own tears, and their blood freezes and expands, blowing up and cracking the skin, and their very heart stops mid-beat. Frozen." He barely stops from smiling at the girl's fearful gaze.
Now, are you going to stay modest and die or are you going to trust someone who's lived in the wild his whole life and live?"
Neveah didn't hesitate this time and reached for the strings of her bodice. She began to pull them, and then slapped away the hunter's hands as he reached for her skirts.
"I shall undress for my safety, but I do not require assistance, especially from you! And, I demand you avert your eyes!"
Caine smirked. "Naw," he leaned back on his elbows, "and give you the opportunity to run away? I'll just sit right over here." He motions towards her wet body, "Do continue; I'm not touching."
/Because the way you're looking at me you do not have to/, she thought. The lady glared but went back to unlacing her bodice.
She might not have had a great escape plan, but Neveah did have the right sense of what to pack. She knew that people outside of her privileged home did not wear the same things she did so she did not pack her layers of petticoats and shifts and chemises- they would've made running hard too- and /thank Gods/- she thought. A full outfit would require a ladymaids assistance, and she didn't want this primate of a man /assisting/ her in any way. She felt his eyes devouring each inch of pale skin revealed, and feelings she couldn't identify pooled in her nether regions. As her dress hit the floor, leaving her in a thin shift, Neveah stole a peak over her shoulder to see Caine's eyes scanning her almost nude form.
/Gods, she looks good/, the hunter thought to himself. The Lady stepped out of her white dress, and he watched the soft movement of her breasts underneath the sheer fabric and imagined how they'd feel in his hands. She lacked the plump, womanly curves of the town woman, but she possessed a grace and sense of modesty the other women could never fathom having. Her scuffed boots stopped above her ankle, and he followed the slender curve of her calf to the smooth skin on the back of her knee. He easily imagined what it'd be like to kiss that sensitive part of her, while reaching under the soaked shift to brush her thighs, and finally grasp her soft buttocks. Keeping true to his word, Caine continued eyeing her body til he reached her face. She had laid her gown out and looked back at him.
Her face was porcelain smooth no blemish at all besides the drying tracts of rain water. Her lips were pink, and he internally groaned when her little tongue darted out to wet them. Her features were small and proportional, but her eyes. /Dear Gods/, he groaned, this time not so internally. Her eyes were blue, this he had noticed before, but now he saw just how expressive they were. They seemed to broadcast everything she felt, and one by one Caine picked out the emotions. /Nervousness. Worry. Wariness. But not frightened; perhaps even curiousness... perhaps arousal/? He then knew for certain he would have her. Caine stood up as Neveah turned to face him, arms covering her chest. Stepping closer to her, the hunter placed his hands on her arms and pushed them away, never breaking eye contact. Her eyes widened as she watched her captor look at her lips, hungry, before he pressed his mouth against hers.
Her first kiss was not like how she'd expected it to be. It was better. His lips were soft and warm, and she felt her knees weaken when his pliant tongue pressed between her mouth to trace the shape of her teeth. He kept her arms in his hands, and pulled back to halfheartedly smirk at her closed eyes and breathless expression. Carrying his look downwards, he finally saw her perfect breasts sitting high on top her chest beneath a thin, very thin, cotton chemise. Dropping his head down he caught the tip of her right breast in his hot mouth, and -- "Oh!" Neveah gasped out as she felt his blunt teeth worrying her hard nipple. Caine sucked at the full tit before him, wetting the cotton fabric, before his body yearned for the real thing. He dropped her arms and pulled up the hem of her underwear.
He felt the heat rising from her chest as her blush spread, and wasted no time in reattaching himself to a pink nipple. Her hands rooted themselves in his dark hair, as she mewl-ed her pleasure above him. He snaked one hand from around her back to grab the neglected breast, and weigh it in his hand. He was happy with the weight of it, and continued his ministrations til he got the urge to explore more. Moving his mouth to kiss at the underside of her breast he let his fingers travel along her ribcage and down her soft stomach to rest on her narrow hips. Neveah looked down with hooded eyes, as the hunter left hot marks down her torso til he reached her light blonde curls. With one hand Caine nudged her legs apart, and he studied the anatomy before him. Swollen, red lips dripping wet framed by small amounts of kinky pubic hair-- /Oh, Gods/. The pussy before him was unlike any other women's. Caine held the girl by her hips, and brought her wet vulva to his lips, tonguing her folds and brushing against her sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Oh, my Gods!" She screeched, hands anchoring on his shoulders. Caine parted her lips with his fingers and breathed in her musky scent. /Delicious/, he thought, before plunging back in, his tongue working ever closer to her small hole. He had just the tip of his wet muscle inside her, when her hands started to push him away
"No, wait..." Her words held little conviction. He ignored her, and pushed the rest of his tongue in her tight passage, hot liquid surrounding his muscle with each inward thrust.
"No. Stooop—oh, mmh" Neveah came to the realization of what she was allowing this strange man to do to her innocent body. He was the one who was dragging her away from her freedom, and back towards her family. She can't allow him to do—/Oh, dear Lord/— whatever it was he was doing. Even if what he was doing was the best feeling she's ever experienced. She tried to use all her strength against the man in front of her.
