Notes: 1) My thanks to Arec for reading over this and giving me a few things to look at and adjust! 2) If you see
this
version of the story anywhere other than Literotica it isn't supposed to be there. 3) Because of shorter chapters, this is being posted in chunks.
*****
*Sixteen*
Vezar dozed fitfully, Syreilla should be here curled against his side. Instead, she was with the dwarf. His overeagerness had attached her to this
Kaduil
and it burned him.
But she would come to him. He resigned himself to staring at the ceiling. Olthon was nothing if not determined. He would try to use sweet Syreilla against him, to make her seek him out. Once she was out of the mine and away from Kaduil, she would have no reason to resist his pulling.
A timid knocking on the door made him lift his head. "Enter."
The girl from the afternoon had returned with his clothes. "Miss Jenet said I had to dry them by the fire, you need them early."
They smelled of smoke. He frowned and stood to fetch her two coppers. "I do need them, the smell will fade." He noticed the way she looked at his form. "How early is it?"
"Very early." She bit her lip and smiled.
"You wanted to have some time with me, child?" He smiled at her annoyance.
"I'm no child." Her chin tilted up proudly and she rolled her shoulders back making certain her ample bosom was well displayed.
"What is your name?" He smiled wider and gestured to the bed.
The girl nearly strutted, "Millesant."
"Mm. Is that all of your name, Millesant?" A substitute for his Syreilla while he waited would not be amiss.
"Millesant Hadwise," she offered as he pushed her down on the bed pulling at her dress.
"Millesant Hadwise, I am Vezar Edra, the Undying. Speak it." He commanded quietly.
The girl shivered and obeyed. "Vezar Edra, the Undying."
He pulled at the hungry threads of her desire, unlike Syreilla's they were already primed and they attached to him easily. It was a simple matter to bind her. "A traveling companion would please me. When we have finished you will gather your things, collect whatever coin you have and you will follow me."
Vezar poured his desire for Syreilla into the willing woman under him. The creature was already wet and it smelled as if she'd come from at least one other man's bed before she'd come to his. Foreplay was unnecessary. With each powerful thrust, the size he'd chosen and the subtle draconic ridges he'd intended for Syreilla's enjoyment made Millesant whimper his name in pleasure as his mistresses always had.
Closing his eyes he imagined it was the delicate half-elf beneath him instead. Her golden hair across his pillow and her athletic elven legs wrapped around him. Syreilla's hands roaming his arms and chest, her sweet sounds... The woman beneath him squeezed his cock inside her as he thrust and he groaned, clutching her to him and releasing inside her. Vezar pressed kisses to her neck to reward her along with a few small nips to punish the woman for not being who he wanted her to be. The relief of desire sated was as delicious as it had always been, however.
As he pulled back, Millesant stared up at him lustfully, wanting more.
"Go, wash, and fetch your things, my pet. We will be enjoying each other often." He stroked her flushed face. She was too easy. As an afterthought, he added, "Bring a fresh basin and cloth for me first, Millesant."
He lay back on the bed as he waited. Syreilla would be pleased he was no longer alone, even if the girl barely qualified as company.
Washed and dressed, with the eager Millesant trailing behind, he let Miss Jenet's boy take him to the caravaners. They offered only a pittance to have him escort them but he didn't care about payment. He doubted all of the men here would reach their destination, and there would be money for the taking if he needed it.
Vezar let Millesant ride his horse and he walked in front of it as they got underway. It made the girl beam with pride and affection.
One of the caravaners called out the name he'd given, "Irek!" The man next to him snickered. "I heard you stole that whore from Miss Jenet, is her snatch made of gold that you're letting her ride while you walk?"
There was laughter from some of the other wagons. Vezar smiled at the man in answer, making him pale and look away.
"I can walk if you want me to."
He glanced up at the embarrassed Millesant. "No, my pet. I would prefer you to be well-rested."
She flushed and smiled down at him. "I don't think anyone has ever been so sweet to me."
He grinned up at her, "Try to remember that when you see me being cruel to others."
Her chin tilted up and she smirked. "I'm sure they'll have deserved it."
"Such a sweet pet, my Millesant." He reached back and stroked her leg under her skirt. Her eyes immediately darkened with desire. The girl did have her charms.
That night the two snickering caravaners went to sleep and did not wake. The morning found them in their wagon, pale and cold each with what looked like a small puncture or bite. Vezar was nominated to search the wagon looking for what might have bitten them and killed them. Searching obediently, feigning sullenness at the task as he inventoried their things, he leapt back as he found a small, venomous scorpion. A fortunate find!
The creature took the blame, and Vezar took a sizable purse for his service and secured the wagon for himself and Millesant to sleep in. He now knew that if he wished to consume more of the caravaners the punctures would be the wisest method. Millesant however was terrified to sleep in the wagon, he had to make a show each night of searching it for her and then bedding her well to make her sleep.
It earned him envious looks from the other men. Vezar found he enjoyed it tremendously. Reaching Brosa after two weeks of travel, he had a purse to spend and a horse to sell.
Millesant was confused when they found an inexpensive place to stay and he insisted on going to the temple of Imos. "Are you planning to give the money as an offering?"
"No, my pet." He stroked her rich brown hair. "My sister is to meet me here. Syreilla will have a use for it, I am sure."
She pouted prettily at him and it reminded him of one of his royal mistresses. "I would have a use for it too, Vezar."
He laughed softly and ran a finger over her lips. "I am certain you would, my pet."
"Please, I want to come with you." Millesant clutched at him as he tried to pull away. "I want to meet your sister."
"Come if you wish, Millesant. Do you believe your things will be safe here alone?"
Smiling, he watched her hopefulness turn to sullenness. This place was not one you wished to leave anything unattended. "She may not be here yet, my pet. I will bring her if she is and return if she is not. We will have more time, and privacy, if she is not."
The girl kissed him giddily. "I hope she takes her time."
Vezar left her in the room and made his way to the temple. Beggars knelt and pleaded before the doors, mostly ignored by those passing by. He studied the milling crowd looking for Syreilla's golden hair or her delicate, nearly elvish ears. She was lovely enough to stand out from the crowd and his eyes were sharp.
He waited and watched for hours, even going into the temple and offering a prayer for the chance to look for her inside. His mood was sour as he stalked back to the lodging where he had left Millesant. It brightened somewhat when he realized someone was surreptitiously following him. Someone to consume.
It had been several days and in a city of this size, one person would not be missed, especially not a footpad. Vezar smiled to himself and pretended to be lost, stepping into an alleyway.
*Seventeen*
By dawn, Syreilla had thoroughly exhausted herself but couldn't fall asleep. Kaduil had finally begun to snore next to her. She rubbed her face against his side breathing in the pleasant earthy smell of dwarf. He'd shown a great deal of stamina. The thought of leaving made her heart ache.
Batran called from below and she carefully got out of bed leaving Kaduil to snore on. Throwing on Kaduil's shirt she met Batran on the stairs. Syr whispered to him, "I need my traveling clothes."
The dwarf was studiously looking elsewhere as he offered her a sack of things, keeping his voice low, "Kaduil is asleep?"
"I wanted to give him a reason to welcome me home, and he wanted to give me a reason to come back quickly." She grinned tiredly, "We wore each other out, I think."
He shook his head with a smile at her quiet response, "Wake him before you go. He won't be glad to wake to an empty bed a day before he has to."
Syr nodded wordlessly. The lump in her throat wouldn't let her speak.
Returning to the room she debated dressing first and decided against it. She set the sack on the bed and leaned across Kaduil to kiss him awake. He woke with a start and then a smile. "You're not going to let me sleep at all?"
She tried to return the smile but her face wouldn't cooperate and her eyes filled with tears. "It's time for me to get dressed and go."
Kaduil looked as if he'd been struck, sitting up to pull her close. Cursing the elves under his breath for a multitude of things, beardlessness and tree-fucking foremost among them, in Dwarvish, he squeezed her until she thought he might crush the air out of her. Syr didn't complain. He loosened his grip as if realizing it on his own. "Am I crushing you?"
"If you break my ribs I might get to stay a few more days."
He laughed and crushed her again before pulling back to kiss her. "Come home to me."
"I will. I promise, Kaduil." She kissed him ardently. "As soon as I can."
His sigh was heart-wrenching for her but he put on a determined frown and nodded before sitting up. "Get dressed, Syr. You shouldn't keep those beardless, inbred, kin-fuckers waiting." He grinned viciously, making her laugh.
Syreilla stood and pulled off his shirt letting him watch as she emptied the sack and put on her traveling clothes, extra tools, and picks in her clothes in strategic places, all of her pouches checked carefully. She frowned. "I'm missing my boot knife and I'm low on a few things. Can we swing by the forge stores?"
Grinning broadly, he climbed out of bed. "I have a boot knife for you. Batran told me not to give it to you, you were too proud of the one you'd made."
"I was!" She laughed. "Even if Vezar hadn't broken it I'd still rather have one of yours this morning." Syr smiled at him, "Your knives are better."
