"You corrupt me."
Moran Grimwold lay upon her bed, naked. A sheen of sweat still covered his body from their recent, and what could only loosely be called, lovemaking.
"Do I, Paladin?" She turned her back to him; he didn't notice the corner of her mouth turned upward slightly at his involuntary flinch. "Strange, I don't recall dragging you in chains to my bed." The Sapphire Wichta pivoted enough to silhouette her nude form in the moonlight that streamed through the window. The light illuminated her, giving an almost ethereal glow to the pale skin of her breasts as they rose and fell with each breath. He could feel his passion rise again, damn her. Damn him.
"Your chains are not those that can be cut by steel and fire, yet they bind me as fast as those that would bind a dragon."
She turned to face him, slowly, teasingly. "And have I bound that dragon, Sir Paladin?" L'ree approached him again, the sway of her breasts and her hips taunting him, promising him more pleasures. "Have I tamed that strong heart that beats, Paladin?" She taunted him, dared him, tested him. "Can you say you have tasted and want no more?"
His breath ragged, he could feel his heart leaping from his chest. Indeed he had tasted, tasted her warm kisses, tasted her willing flesh. Indeed - it wasn't enough. Damn her. Damn him. He could only shake his head, trying to say 'no more' and only meaning 'no'.
"L'ree." He said her name, rolling it on his tongue, tasting it. Bitter. Sweet. "Is that your true name, or only the one you choose to give?"
"My Truename is for none to know. As for 'L'ree' it is the name I've had since my thirteenth year. So, yes, it is my name."
"What was your name before, the name given by your mother?" A pained, dark look crossed her face. He swore he saw her emerald eyes flash with a light of their own.
"There was no before, Paladin. Only now. Do not ask again."
Moran felt a brief twinge of fear. Was it that, or the pain he saw in her eyes that excited him even more?
L'ree's countenance softened again. She stood beside the bed and placed one knee upon it invitingly. Moran reached out to touch her, to caress the smooth, pale skin of her inner thigh. A glimpse of the glistening dew gathered between her legs was the final spark that renewed his fire of desire. Reaching upward, he brought his hand up to her flower and stroked gently, marveling at the wetness that ran down his fingers. She closed her eyes and moaned as her hips gyrated slowly.
Leaning over him her mouth closed on his. Her tongue dove in, intertwining with his as it played about teasingly. He could feel her breasts rub lightly up and down his chest as her body rocked to the motion of his hand between her legs.
Placing one hand on his chest, her nails scraped his flesh lightly as her other hand found his manhood. With a feather touch she ran her fingers down its length then stopped to cup his balls gently. Her own breath was heavy as his fingers continued their wet explorations. He massaged her clit gently, then sent his fingers inside her.