The Sensual Emberskeeper Pt 01

Hi there,

this is a new short story I came up with, I hope you'll enjoy. I don't want to make too many parts, but you never know :)

Let me know what you think!

xoxo,

Jackie

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Disclaimer: All characters are older than 21!

Trigger warnings: Blood, lost love

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Lysira's tent was her sanctuary. It was a place of flickering runes and scented smokes, a sanctuary filled with dozens of cushions, her bed and the ancient rite table. The incense of bloodwood and moonpetal curled in the air and gave the whole place a warm and inviting feeling. In the center of her tent was a small brazier with embers that never died, because she kept them alive.

She was sitting in the middle of a few pillows, her hands resting on the knees of her crossed legs, her mind in meditation. Her mind and spirit had tried for a few days now to connect to Kaelaen's flames, but without success which meant he was too far away. He wasn't dead, she knew that. After all this had been her whole purpose for nearly 30 years. For thirty years she had been his Emberskeeper, he needed her to replenish his fire powers.

There was a sudden tremor in the flames of the braziers all around her and in the middle of her tent. It was almost as if the fire felt his presence and moved like it could actually feel. Lysira took in a deep, sharp breath as her amber gaze flickered between each brazier, trying to pinpoint where he was.

A second later the flaps of her tent flew open and Kaelen was dragged inside by Micah and Soren, both were fellow flamebound, though they had found other Emberskeepers besides her.

She jumped up and towards the broad shouldered man, ignoring that her brazier flames licked towards his energy.

"Put him down," her voice was smooth and even, showing none of the pain she felt seeing him like that.

Micah and Soren put their General down slowly, causing Kaelen to grunt in pain.

He looked like the fires of Hell had swallowed him and spit out broken pieces. She knew they were at war but seeing him like this broke a little piece of her.

She knelt in front of his broken body and gently stroked his cheek. His energy was low, too low! His right hand weakly reached out and traced her cheekbones with a rough thumb. Those eyes, usually a warm brown, were now nearly black, showing his rough state. He tried to focus on her amber eyes but they were fighting to stay open.

"Lady Lysira, do you need help with the chest plate?" Micah asked gently.

"No, I shall tend to the General myself." Her tone was gentle and professional as she ran her fingers over the chest plate, whispering an old incantation to release the magic holding the pieces of his armor together. The runes on her shoulders and palms glowed, when she wielded her magic.

"We'll leave you to it. We need him back as soon as possible, the war is not going our way," Soren murmured, then gave his General a soft pat on the shoulder.

"Rest, my friend." With that he and Micah disappeared, closing the flaps behind them.

Once they left, Lysira let out a shuddering sigh and slipped out of her sandals, before she knelt beside him. Usually it was better to replenish his energy on the ancient rite table, but there was no way she could get him up there right now. So she needed to heal him first. It wasn't her strong suit but it would do.

Carefully she removed the chest plate and then opened the laces of his shirt until it slid away, exposing the upper half of his chest, his stomach and the bulking muscles of his shoulders. Usually he had an incredible aura, warm and inviting. Lusty and playful when she undressed him, teasing even. Today he felt broken and tired and she knew that while it was always a bad sign when he didn't come see her after a fight, this time it was much worse.

"What have they done to you," she whispered and removed the clothes until his upper body was completely bare. She rose from the floor and quickly fetched a small bowl of water and cloth so she could begin washing away the dried blood and grime that coated his skin. He winced every few moments. But she needed him clean to be able to see what she had to heal and how bad it really was.

His heavy lids closed and the cold washed over his body, wrapping around every inch. Numb. He was growing numb and part of him wanted to welcome that relief. But the rest... well, it didn't want to die, but sometimes life had other plans. A strong touch and he forced open his eyes, finding Lysira standing above him. That look on her face said it all: not good. A lump formed in his throat at the sight. There was so much to say but words were difficult when his body was burning.

Lysira rose and grabbed the mortar and pestle as well as the pouches with the herbs and infused oils, her slender frame returning and she began grinding the various herbs into a paste. Her free hand kept trailing over him, touching him, feeding his flames, even if it was just an ounce. It wasn't really strong what she did now, they needed to be a lot more intimate for that, though usually he was affected by her touches, even if they were this light. Now, nothing. It sent a cold shiver down her spine. She needed to finish this so she could take care of his energy.

Carefully she spread the healing balm on the first deep gash and started to recite the healing incantation. The runes on her hands and forearms started to glow faintly. The deep gash slowly began to knit close. She continued healing, one wound after another, reciting mantra after mantra, until her words started to slur and her movements were so heavy that her fingertips just caressed his skin and she began to sway on her knees.

"Lys, it's okay," his voice, tired and hoarse, barely above a whisper, "You can stop."

"No... I haven't," her response was a hoarse and weak whisper.

"You've done more than enough."

She shook her head weakly and forced her tired and unfocused gaze to stay on his wounds, but he grabbed her hand, his grip like iron, even in this state. She always forgot how strong he really was, because he never used his strength on her.

"Rest," he ordered, though the order lacked bite. Lysira however jerked her hand back and glared at him. The motion sent a fresh wave of dizziness over her.

"Stop underestimating me, Kaelen." The strength in her voice returned for just a moment, because the anger overwrote everything else. She hated being underestimated, especially by him.

"When have I ever-"

She cut him off. "Every. single. time. You have underestimated me for the past thirty years!"

This was only partially true. He had never underestimated her. Fuck, she was the strongest creature he knew, including him. But he feared losing her. And maybe it was this fear that prevented him from letting her stay beside him, fight his fights, protect him instead of just recharging when his tank was nearly empty. If she knew that would she be angry? Happy? He had no idea.

His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing slightly. That damned temper. His had gotten a little shorter with age too. He was well-versed in the art of keeping a lid on it most days, but right now the strain was too much and too familiar. He should just lie down and stop giving a fuck. Why make it hard on them both? Why pretend things could be different?

"I've never estimated you. But you shouldn't exert yourself because of me. Now," his voice went rougher than normal, "rest."

Despite his aching body he got up, marvelling at the fact that 80% of his body had been patched up already, because of her.

He stalked towards her, noticing her swaying again and he frowned slightly. Grabbing her firmly around her hips, he guided her towards the bed.

Her knees hit the bed and she gave up the resistance against his commanding hands.

She had done all she could and her own magic was depleting now, they both knew that. She wouldn't have the energy to spark his embers but for the moment he didn't care. That he'd survived the battle had seemed impossible and yet here she was. He wanted to say how grateful he was for her, that she was able to patch him up after what had happened, but he couldn't form the words. Instead, he merely stayed there until she patted the spot on the bed beside her.

He climbed onto the bed and grunted. He was so fucking sore, not even her magic could keep his body from hurting. Lysira slid beside him, her own fingers ghosting over his wounds again, her lips pursed slightly, as she assessed if there was still a need for healing.

"Lys, sleep," he ordered softly and pulled her petite form on top of his chest. Though his body was hurting it was still some kind of comfort to feel her on him, it grounded him in a strange way. The silence felt a little heavy, there were too many unspoken words between them. She relented and let him pull her on top of his naked torso, her cheek resting over his heart, feeling its soft beating.

"You are running hot." She whispered her hand travelling between his pectorals, slowly and gently.

"It's been a hard week," he replied, his voice dropping in volume as the tiredness set in.

"You should have come back sooner. It wouldn't have been that bad. Now I have to heal you, really recharge your flames and be careful not to overheat you," she breathed and shifted in his embrace to rest her cheek on his shoulder.

"I probably should have. But we weren't making a lot of ground out there." And that was the truth. His job wasn't just keeping his men alive. He was their greatest asset on the field and being out there meant taking the brunt of it. And he had tried to keep his distance from her, at least emotionally and she felt that. Which in turn put even more strain on their bond. A loop that was impossible to break. At least until he opened up.

"At what cost, though?" She whispered and intertwined her fingers with his and gave his palm a soft squeeze.

"Better me than them."

Her lips pressed into a firm line, fingers tracing the tiny bits of skin where it didn't hurt him. It wasn't him being selfless. Not anymore. Something had changed the last few weeks. He had become restless, desperate almost and she had no idea how to ask him without seeming out of line.

Her hand then rested on his sculptured pectoral as she felt exhaustion finally catching up with her. It had taken hours to patch him up properly and she had drained her reserves. So for now, she would sleep.

*****

When she woke up, his body felt like a furnace. She was used to his heat, his body temperature was always elevated because of his fire element, but right now he was even hotter than usual. She stirred slightly, lifting herself from his chest. His skin was covered in sweat, but his eyes were tightly closed and his breathing came heavy and strained.

Her own brow was damp from the heat and a layer of sweat beaded her own body.

"Kael," her voice was a whisper, yet filled with worry. She lifted herself and removed the blanket from their bodies. When she glanced down at him, his chest was covered by the runes tattooed on his skin, and it seemed like tiny rivers of magma moved beneath his warm skin. Usually the runestone were dormant and she didn't see them like this. That they were moving wasn't a good sign.

"Kael," she breathed, brushing his hair away. "Don't do this to me," she hissed softly.

He'd told her once it had happened before. It was an imbalance in his elemental fire energy. There were times it threatened to consume him from the inside if he used too much.

Slowly she pulled the silken gown over her head, leaving her completely bare and stroked his cheek.

"Kael, you have to wake up," she whispered and he started stirring beneath her. He was sleeping in his breeches, which were soaked through with his sweat. She grabbed them, sliding them down his hips, so he was completely naked in front of her. Her own core twitched at the sight of him. Even now in his weakened state, he was utterly breathtaking and for a few seconds she just sat there, her hands traveling over his cheeks and his full lips.

"Fuck," he whispered when his eyes fluttered open and focused on her, a lazy smile spreading. "If this is dying, I'm totally down with this," he murmured, hands lifting to her hips.

"I'm trying to prevent that, Kael," she rolled her eyes and was happy to see his brown eyes were clearer than when he first arrived in her tent.

"Hmmmhh, I'm all yours," he murmured and put his arms behind his head. Lysira had to keep from snorting at his bold confidence, but he wasn't wrong. And she didn't mind having him spread out and naked in front of her. She did mind having his life literally depend on it, though.

Carefully she let her right hand brush over his stomach, her fingertips tracing the shape of every muscle in his taut abs. His breath caught in his throat but he didn't say anything. He loved her fingertips tracing him and exploring his skin. He knew she was activating her own runes, allowing them to refill his energy.

A faint blue light radiated from beneath her skin and the ancient symbols on her ribs and the curve of her waist and hips.

When her magic had awakened, her fingertips moved to his nipple and he inhaled sharply. After so many years she knew exactly where all his weaknesses were. She had a mental map of where to caress him to elicit different responses and she used them shamelessly.

His own hand moved up her upper body, finding the silky flesh of her breast, letting his thumb travel over the tight peak.

"Temptress."

"Behave, this isn't about me, Kael," she protested even as he tugged her gently towards him. She didn't protest anymore when his lips sealed around her nipple and began suckling, sending hot pleasure straight between her legs.

It was always difficult not to melt into his touched and she knew exactly why he was doing it. It made their connection stronger and it would be easier to restore his powers. If they let their minds and souls connect along with their bodies, it would go so much faster, but right now both minds resisted for different reasons. So the physical part had to suffice for now.

Usually he didn't mind the little teasing, partially because he knew that she needed it, partially because he liked it. And even though he had been severely wounded, he wanted to go out there again as fast as possible. But he couldn't just tell her to straddle him, their connection was needed first. And he had to get his head straight, which shouldn't be too hard, considering he had her glorious breast in his face.

He licked and nipped, delighting in every sigh and moan that slipped past her lips. He knew she was as starved as he was, but she needed to take this slow. And she needed to get rid of some of her energy first before he could even think about giving her pleasure. If her own sensual energy rose although her reserves we full, it could severely hurt her.

Every touch from her restored some of his energy and the magic she poured into it fueled his power. He could feel his energy coming back slowly. His strength growing the more she touched him, and yet they hadn't really started yet. But his own arousal shot through the roof with every small moan, as she kept her pace agonizingly slow. His teeth caught and he bit down just enough to make her hips twitch.

"Mmmmh..."

He had a smug grin and ran the tip of his tongue around her areola before taking the pebbled peak again into his mouth, his other hand travelling over her other, her belly, her butt and her inner thighs.

"Hands behind your head," she commanded and he looked up. For a long moment their gazes locked, until he complied. He was hers to worship and control for as long as she chose or rather as long as she needed to fill up his energy reserves.

She stroked every sensitive spot on his upper body, until her fingers moved through the hair that led down from his navel. The muscles of his belly bunched and she purred with pride and pleasure at her effect on his body. She loved the effect her teasing touches had on him.

She gripped his half hard erection and stroked him into hardness, listening to him hiss with delight at her touch and the grip of her tiny hand.

"Gods woman, fuck," he panted, his head falling back as her thumb trailed a line over the thick, straining vein of his length, her gaze drinking him in greedily.

He could hear her voice whispering ancient words. The runes on her body lit up brighter with her chants and the one of his runes on his chest followed suit.

Without looking at him she straddled his big thighs and reached behind herself so she could tease the tip of his cock to her opening. She didn't know how often they had performed the Ember Rite in thirty years. Hundreds or thousands of times. And even though they'd been together for years, she had never managed to grow completely accustomed to his size. He was a beast down there, her warrior, her champion, all carved marble and rippling steel, but oh so soft when they touched.

She reached down and positioned him so she could slip him inside just enough so that her body had a taste of him. Then she raised off again and adjusted before slipping a little bit deeper, slowly. Every movement forward elicited a hiss of air from him until his tip grazed that tender, deeply hidden place and she arched her back, moaning.

When he had opened her for the first time, so long ago, he thought he'd rip her apart. Her body was petite except for her lush breasts and the plump ass. He, however, was everything but small and one of the tallest and broadest men in their camp. Seeing her take him, had been both a miracle and one of the sexiest things ever. And every time he saw his length disappear deep inside her, it made him realize how special she was. And today was no different.

She watched his abs tense and strain beneath her and couldn't help a grin of pure satisfaction at the effect she had on him. And yet when she arched and her channel gripped him, he could tell she was as hungry for this as he was. Her walls were gripping him like she never wanted to let him go again.

The slow pace was maddening, but necessary and he could feel his power slowly awakening and recharging.

As soon as the connection was established her amber gaze flickered over him with genuine care. His body temperature had gone down and the glow from the magma in his veins had also lessened.

Slowly she started rocking her hips, singing ancient spells and coaxing her body into an erotic trance to aid their connection.

Kaelen felt the energy pour in, like a burning inferno through his body and all his senses. But also her... her overwhelming lust for him, her fierce need.

With her fingernail she painted an old rune of pleasure and amplification on his abdomen and Kaelen suddenly moaned. It was the single most pleasurable spot she could have drawn.on, besides the obvious places. She knew his body like the back of her hand, it belonged to her after all. It was a running joke between them that he was like a war machine and that they made him in a forge somewhere, but that she was the only tool to disassemble him.

She drew the same rune below her belly button and activated it. Her response was almost immediate as she started moaning softly and her walls quivered around him.

This time he gave her a smug grin as his hand grabbed her waist and his thumb started following the lines of the rune on the sensitive skin of her lower stomach, before they travelled lower, gliding to the part where they were joined, teasing the apex of her sex, focusing on the bundle of nerves there.

Lysira moaned loudly when he started teasing her with his finger, but the teasing quickly transformed to intense pleasure as he hit the right spots and her climax started building rapidly. She didn't have to tell him that he'd found the perfect spot yet again, he knew exactly what made her shake and shiver.