Cold Iron Hot Blood

Chains rattled from the bedside. Steel-blue eyes shifted, stirring Vørst from his thought to the veil of curtain only a few feet away. The icy blue light of his room cast her shapely silhouette more ethereal than usual. He tugged at the chain, drawing her forth where he could see her.

"What is it, Maeve?"

Her voice was a hush of wind on tundra, "A vision." Slowly she crawled across the floor, favoring her shackled foot.

The sight made his jaw clench. That it was a necessary cruelty to bind the fae thus did very little to alleviate his conscience. The giant rolled to one side, and effortlessly lifted her to his bed. Maeve shivered at the contrast between soft furs and her usual cold, stone floor. Pulling her close, Vørst's embrace wholly engulfed her, the heat of his body spreading over the farseer's petite frame.

His hands moved over cool skin, warming her, eliciting a different sort of shiver. Allowing her to bask in heat for a moment, he rose upon one elbow, resting his hand upon her abdomen. Thumb to pinky, the span of his hand full covered her midsection where he lingered, savoring her porcelain skin. What had begun as protection, had grown into affection that he could not deny within himself. The giant's hand slipped over the curve of her hip and along her thigh, reaching for the ankle bracelet.

"I need your vision, Maeve," his face pressed into her dark hair, rumbling against her ear. "Give it to me and I will remove this chain."

Her shallow inhale was all the answer he needed, and with a twist of the iron pin there was a clattering on the floor. Fingers wrapped around her ankle, easing the sting of frostbite that threatened there. Maeve turned her head into him to stifle her cry as his hands melted away the pain of cold iron. Carefully, he rotated his grip, absorbing the hoarfrost that had formed on her skin.

A single, hot tear slid down his chest, and he reached up cupping her tiny face in one large hand. The pad of his thumb brushed over her cheek, reminding him of his own innate coarseness. It was a thing he could no more be rid of than he could his height, and in the presence of her delicate perfection he felt suddenly brutish and unrefined.

All those thoughts evaporated though, sensing her slender fingers press into his skin. Her body curled into his and he kissed her face, neck, ever so tenderly, feeling himself pulse against her. He let his hand slip down her body once more, tracing the curve of her breasts, reveling quietly in the small sounds she made as his thumb encircled her nipple. It perked delightfully under his touch and he was inclined to kiss fully her then, tongue exploring her mouth.

Lower still he ventured, grasping the whole of her womanhood in a single, firm grip. Maeve pulled from his lock with a gasp for air, hips pressing her sex into his palm. Her alabaster skin was luminescent with blue light, heightening her otherworldly nature. Vørst's body was the devil's own temptation, urging him to simply pull her on top and ease his lust. But that was not how this would go.

The giant squeezed tightly between her legs, feeling the heat of moisture meet his exploring fingers. Touching her thus was a priceless confirmation that he could have so lovely a creature without his raw strength breaking the most exquisite of beings.

"Gently..." the word quavered on her lips and he heard, relaxing into a luxurious massage against the center of pleasure that gave rise to her body as she arched into his palm.

Her need was nearly maddening and he felt the swell of his huge member against her thigh, but he too needed something imperative and would not be set off track by quick satisfaction. "You will dream for me." His voice was the moving of mountains, rumbling through her whole being as his fingers slipped inside her, taking full hold.

Captor though he be, her body relented and urged her to trust him. Maeve writhed against his fingers inside her, every smooth brush of her cheeks against his erection whittling away at his willpower. How easy it would be to simply angle her hips and slip into her wetness from behind. Again though, he resisted the urge and instead pressed himself against her body, unmistakably establishing the presence of his own hunger.

Vørst moved his fingers inside her, rocking her body against his hand. Her body seduced a quicker pace, inner muscles clenching around him, juices filling his palm like sweetwater from Aphrodite's spring. "That's right..." he murmured in her ear, "just let go..."

As her sculpted form began to obey, he withdrew and rose to his own knees. With them, pressed her supple legs apart. Though Vørst towered above Maeve's marble form, he still found himself knelt before such a sensual altar of avarice that he could do naught but sacrifice his libido upon that mound. He stroked his stiffened manhood, slicking it her nectar that was still on his palm even as his other hand moved to probe her inner lips. The pink sight against her sapphire skin was exotic, though, more pleasing still was the whimper she gave under his touch.

Vørst lowered himself pressing the head of his cock slowly into her. She drew a sharp breath and tensed at the enormity of his size compared to her own, petite self. His thumb found the sensitive kernel that now swelled out of its hood, and circled round it sending an electric pulse through her core. The giant leaned in, pressing his cheek to hers as he repeated Maeve's words back to her, "Yes, gently..." and pushed into her further.

This time her body gripped him from within, aching to consume him wholly. The pure craving was more than he could - or wanted - to resist and in a single stroke, entered her completely. Her pink petals bloomed around his girth, opening like a winter flower to accept him in his entirety. Slipping his hands beneath her, Vørst raised her hips, thrusting, burying himself within. His mouth found its way to her breasts, teeth teasing them to perfect rigidity.

Maeve's legs slinked up around his waist, wrapping themselves tightly, forcing him ever deeper with no allowance for reprieve. Her body rode the thrust and wave of his desire, pushing her to that ecstatic height and then her words caressed his ears between breaths, "Give yourself to me."

He swelled and did not disappoint. Gathering her into his arms, he drove himself deep inside, rocking her body against his, mouth covering her own as if to pray supplication to the beauty that held him captive within. He growled against her, the tightening of her wet slit coercing forth his tithing.

Even as her breath, her body, tipped over the edge of lust, his seed erupted within, filling her with heat. Maeve, despite her delicate countenance, held him there, her sex contracting again and again, absorbing every shock-wave droplet until he was completely exhausted upon her.

Finally he withdrew, kissing her face and collar and lay next to her whispering, "Now, tell me what you see..."

Lidded eyes closed as she rolled into his shoulder murmuring the portent: "Here within these walls of sin, enter freely my own kin. Rise they will and bring the fall of thine own city, walls and all."

Vørst stroked her hair as she faded to sleep nestled against him. It was time to deal with the Bleak Queen, and free his farseer.