Under the gleaming light of the full moon, there is a dark elf necromancer working her magick in the graveyard. Laiste is average height for her race, long white, silvery hair down her slender back, caressing the smooth cheeks of her toned ass, and continuing down as far as her ankles. Her skin is the softest shade of midnight blue color. The full moon beams a lusty glow upon her, illuminating the glow from her hair; wrapped cape-like around her nude-appearing form as she goes into a deeper trance of the ritual.
In the shadows there is another who is admiring her, stands out of sightā¦. Watching her through his hooded cloak hiding his face within the shadows. Feeling his presence, she continues as if he is not there. This is what she wanted. She wanted her master to come to her. She knows that summoning him is not allowed. But she waited to long for his touch, his kiss, and the words that he whispers only to her in her ears. He had no choice in setting her free; his love for her was more than he could ever imagine, he couldnāt bear to treat her the way he was. He had to set her free. Neither one of them had ever stopped loving each other. Yet each accepted their fate of loving that which they could never have. She had made a promise to never invoke the Godās for this particular reason. Willing to accept what punishment that will come of this, she could not bear to live without his love for the last time. Luathas watched her with loving eyes ~ drawing closer ~ to her noticing that she is dressed after all, admiring the shape and contour of her body as she moved in the moonlight. Laisteās shoulders were bare, showing off her neck and the nape of her back. He was close enough to see more of her, yet still out of sight from her. Laiste is wearing his favorite nightgown, made of the finest silks. Memories flood Luathasās mind of when her body would be pressed against his in that gownā¦of how her skin felt like the silk. Slowly memories of the night Laiste had been taken away, begin to take place, they didnāt even get a chance to say good-bye or anything.
They both were of great power and the Godās felt that it would be safer if they were separated. If they ever saw each other again, they would both live as mortals. They both hated the idea, but made the promised anyway.
As the ritual comes to an end, falling to her knees, stretching her arms out in front of her as she lies down slowly on her cloak that is purposely and neatly on the ground. Rolling seductively onto her back, moving her hands slowly over her body, while at the same time moving her hair above her head. Memories of Luathasās dark, blood red thick, long hair, emerald green eyes almost like they were cat eyes. His muscular built, strong arms that held her tight as the slept. Laiste can almost feel his strong hands caressing her slender body. Luathas is about 2 feet taller than she is and made her look tiny when they were together.
With the most erotically seductive movements he has ever seen of her, Laiste continues her self-explorations ~ eventually closing her eyes ~ knowing he has moved closer. Luathas smiled when she closed her eyes, knowing she waited for him to make the first move. It is too late to turn back now.
Luathas knelt above her head, stoking his fingers through her hair, helping her move it neatly out of the way. Laisteās hair was softer than he remembered; softer than crushed velvet. It was like the first time they met when their fingers touched; the feeling was with more passion than she could ever imagine. Luathas kept both of her hands above her head as he slowly kissed down her neck enjoying the feeling of her moving slowly with his touch. Laiste purrs as he slides down to her breast, while he teases her by touching everywhere except for those places she aches to be touched at. Hearing her whimper and the arching of her back for more brings a smile to him.
āHush māluv,ā Luathas whispers to her when she whimpers. Caressing her body now while kissing down her chest. His hand slipping between her legs, letting his fingers slowly slip into her wetness, caressing the inner lips. Luathas is above her not letting their bodies touch. He suckles lightly on her hardened nipples, feeling Laiste writher beneath him, as his fingers explore and remember everything that they used to feel.