A few quick notes about this one. This is a pre-existing chapter from my novel-in-progress, tentatively titled "Eternal." I'm curious as to whether fantasy stories do well here, and I have more erotic scenes of these two and others to share, if people like them.
Since this was an interior chapter, the characters would be well-known to the reader by this time, but in excerpt form like this, not so much -- so let's fix that here.
Anhelia is 43 years old, and is undead. She was and is a soldier, an officer; she died in battle, and was chosen to be revived as an "Eternal", her society's name for those so chosen, the "best of the best". She's not exactly sure how she fits in that definition.
En route to a posting, Anhelia's ship was sunk and the hibernation chamber "coffin" she was being transported in -- so her psychic vampirism wouldn't harm the crew -- washed up on the shores of a small island, where she lay for eight long years.
She was found by the crafted-person Soot, a humanoid creature built from metal and glass and stranger things by a long-dead sorcerer. Soot prevented her from harming the crew by feeding the starving undead woman from her own energies, and the two have developed something of a relationship in the weeks that have passed. Finally, they've reached shore, and the chance for greater privacy ...
*
Soot was good to her word; for a dockside boarding-house room, this was luxury indeed, if a little tasteless in decor. It probably was the case that captains entertained their women here, either regular friends or professional encounters, and the room did have kind of a harem, pleasure-palace feel to it. Lots of gilt. Rich jewel-tone colors, ruby reds and emerald greens and golds and purples. Tassels edging the bedspreads and pillows, that kind of thing. It threatened to give her a fit of the giggles, and her laughter-stifling expression set Soot off too.
"I don't think ... I've ever ... seen anything ... like this!" Anhelia said around her hand and around held-in gusts of laughter. "Look at it! I'm not sure exactly what they intend this to be ..."
"I just asked for their nicest room, I swear!" responded Soot. "Not ... someone's idea of a Tefenin whorehouse, or whatever this is!" If she had eyes to see, they would have been dancing with laughter, Anhelia was sure.
Pretending to be shocked, Anhelia asked, "Is that what you take me for, woman? Just some dockside whore you can take to a room like this? Hah!"
Soot playfully touched her index finger to Anhelia's pale lips. "I certainly do!" she exclaimed, putting on a pompous, entitled tone of voice. "And if you don't put out and do what I want, I'm going to put you
back
in your
box
and return you to the store I bought you at!"
Anhelia pushed out her tongue and licked the fingertip on her lips. "Well, then, I better do what I'm told! So what do you want, great Captain?"
The finger on her lips stroked them, and then traced the line of her jaw round to her ear, a softly brushing touch. Anhelia's breath caught a second before continuing, rather heavier, as her senses sang. Soot's finger was so warm that it felt like a line of fire drawn back across her face, circling her ear, and moving back along the hairline to the back of her neck, further traces of fiery fingertips joining it as she tilted her head back to the taller woman, and then the whole hot hand clasping the back of her neck, fingers dragging in her fine white hair, gently pulling her closer as Soot's lips descended on hers.
She smelled of night-blooming jasmine and cakes straight from the oven, of butter and honey, of fruit-pie and burning candles, a feast for Anhelia's starved senses. Her lips felt as rich and smooth as sun-warmed chocolate, and Anhelia felt herself drawn in closer, lips pressing and pulsing against each other, as if their pale coldness and dark heat were blending, mingling into some fabulous dessert. She clasped Soot's lips between her own and nipped them, and shivered as her own were likewise caught and teased. Soot's tongue teased her, tasted her, liked what it found and searched for more, impossibly, inhumanly deep. Anhelia's eyes closed with the sensation and opened herself to it, relaxing in Soot's strong arms, suckling on that wonderful tongue, lips pressing, body trembling in joyous release.
Pulling languorously away, Soot whispered to her. "You taste of rich spices of the tropics, of sweet vinegar and crushed pepper, of toasted almonds and salt. I want to feast on you, Annie. Consume you."
Anhelia reached up on tiptoe to whisper, right in Anhelia's ear, "I'll be your willing feast, if you'll be my lush dessert," and then spoiled the whole thing by giggling again.
"I think we read too many bad romances, didn't we?" Soot said, her own stomach heaving in laughter against Anhelia as they hugged each other close.