[Flashback] Inadvertent Stowaway (Edreina)

[Wrenmae]

Somewhere there was an enormous weight that beat a sonorous 'boom, boom, boom' in his chest. It took him a few moments to realize that his heart was calm, steady, and solidly thumping blood below his abdomen. These were the rare moments he could feel and was acutely aware of every nerve in his body. The touch of her fingertips on his skin were individual waves born by cascading rocks into still pools.

Her breath on his face was the ocean breeze, or a hurricane, washing into his soul, into the very core of him. Placid waters stirred and his flesh rose beneath the confines of fabric in almost insistent irritation. Skin contracted and expanded a dozen times, a host of bumps racing across his arms and fading away.

Hot and Cold, estranged siblings making peace across his body.

There were no words when she spoke, it was only the pressure of her breath like iron feathers, brushing against his exposed heartstrings. There was music in the rise and fall of tone in that brief moment, the taste of her lips still on his.

The slip of color pressed from his lips and his tongue briefly lavished itself in the resonance of her presence before retreating. This was not the first time he had kissed a woman, but one so bare before him, open, even inviting.

Though he was a storyteller, he could fabricate no words that succinctly described the moment better than simply living it.

Swaying on his feet he was almost unaware that he had made a choice before almost lethargically noting his forward momentum, both hands rising, brushing past the peaks of her breasts to cup her face. He could feel the muscles working there, the inadvertent rhythm of life that pulsed from her. Leaning in, he pressed his lips against hers, relishing the pressure in that moment before opening his lips slightly, and pursing them together, moving them in the universal language all lips greeted each other.

His hands drifted down from her cheeks and settled around her waist, his fingers brushing the rise of her flesh lower and he pulled her against him, welcoming her to the sensations of his own body, the way it reacted to her.

Between the moments there was little time, but it seemed like everything moved at such a slow, steady pace.

Their bodies were patient, only the emotions flared with unexpected irritation at being forced to move at the pace of exploration.

Wren's hands traced up Edreina's back and he couldn't think of any decision he'd ever made before that had been as important as stealing that damned necklace.

[Edreina]

Bells later, Edreina would reflect upon that moment where Wrenmae rocked towards her and smile. In that tick, it was him breaking through a wall in himself, overcoming some fear as he allowed thought to cease and emotion to reign, to be guided by instinct. The balance she had crafted with her careful kiss tipped as nature and anatomy remembered themselves. Later, she would remember that tenth of a tick where she had worried he was falling over in a faint.

But then, Edreina herself was rocked by his kiss. The technique was pure instinct. More experienced men knew exactly how to kiss a woman to convince her into their beds. The young Svefra had tasted the formula of that kiss and found it to be lacking in true chemistry. The kiss Wrenmae impressed upon her lips was sculpted and created entirely by what he felt he needed, not the want of another conquest.

And that was something that any woman could respond to. A sound of surprise escaped Edreina's nose before her eyes drifted shut and civilized though left her mind. Her head tilted slightly to the side, and slim freckled arms drifted about his neck so that when his hands rested upon her hips, her body could curve more gracefully against his. At the evidence of his enjoyment, she wiggled slightly, a grin fighting to claim her lips.

Exuberance of youth faded too soon for many, leaving them lost to planning and analyzation of events as parts of an entire image instead of that moment. Edreina had learned as a young woman that trying to control a current in order to get to a particular took away all of the joy of a journey. There were times when you had to let the current sweep you away. Sometimes, despite the fact that the shore upon which your voyage may end could be strange and full of mystery, it would be an adventure in and of itself.

Despite the fact that Edreina had never planned on getting swept up with Wrenmae, a young man scorned by her father and her enemy by nature, she found herself enjoying the voyage and wondering what distant shore awaited them.

Gently, for she still did not know if doing anything would push the inexperienced man from the precipice of lust onto the crippling rocks of fear and a lack of surety instead of the waters of passion, Edreina pursed her lips and then parted them slowly, skimming over his and hoping that he would part them for her. She could not rely on him to take anything a step forward and, though this had begun as an attempt to get him over a fear, the gentle roiling in Edreina's core told her it had quickly morphed into something deeper. If he allowed, her tongue would dart out to slip between his lip, gently massaging his and coaxing it into motion.

Her hips pressed with a gentle insistence against his. The sway of the boat was echoed in their subtle motions as she kept herself erect. Even unconsciously her body sang to Wrenmae's hormones. Her tongue flicked against his, teasing it, attempting to coax it into her mouth so that she could suck on it gently. Twas but a tease of other things.

If for some reason he were to shy away, she would smile apologetically and take a step back, hands up in surrender. She did not want to push him but, try as she might to put it from her mind, being a man's first was an enticing opportunity in and of itself.

[Wrenmae]

When need of coin had pushed him to stranger places, weaving tales in poorly lit bars or grime-claimed alleyways, he often found himself the inadvertent voyeur of hush-spoken tales and bawdy recounting. It wasn't that he particularly sought them out, but the sailor's tongue was a heavy and loud one, that cared little for the wisps and hisses of the land dwellers. Their voices would echo out across the wide waters, basking in little pools and eddies, waiting to be plucked from seafoam and worn around the ears like a trophy.

Men spoke of lovemaking like warriors spoke of battle. Each held fast to their dreams of conquest with dexterity and strength. Sometimes the tales were of bitter defeat, something rousing victory, but they always maintained that in the heat of the moment...it was not important where you trained or how many you'd left behind you, but the instinct of the moment.

There was a deep interior map within the framework of the human form. A dance encoded within instinct and passed as subtly as breathing to each new life born of that line. As Edreina's tongue delicately asked entrance into Wren's mouth, he accepted it without thought.

Lightly, his teeth caressed the organ as it slid, like a wayward pilgrim, into a new temple. Simultaneously, he pressed himself against her, as if he would simply become one with her in a moment, awkward anatomy and all. His hands raised to cup her breasts, his thumbs sliding across her skin, gliding on the taught surface to both peaks and brushing across them.

The mark on his shoulder roiled, almost in anger, but he could not be concerned by such trifles now. His mouth opened with hers, as if both were trying in vain to devour the other.

He, exploring, she, accepting, and both of them locked within the throes of passion as sacred as a gods-dance and as old as the race itself.

[Edreina]

Abruptly, the boat rocked violently and made a horrid grating sound. Various bauble crashed about and the wood itself creaked angrily as it was assaulted. The motion of it caused Edreina to stumble and fall backwards, ending up on her rear. If Wrenmae somehow had the ability to avoid falling with her, she would be incredibly impressed. The sound was not an unfamiliar one to a woman who spent more of her time crashing into docks than sidling up beside them as easily as her siblings could. She was partial to the thought of leaving the ship as it was, but it rebelled against her blood. With a groan, she would disentangle herself from Wren and move above deck. "I'll be right back... Promise." Even in the wan light, her eyes glittered playfully.

Lithe even where nudity would hamper the movements of most as they attempted to preserve modesty, Edreina bounded up onto the deck and confirmed that, yes, her ship had run into the soft, sandy shore of Alvadas. The entire prow had been rammed into the shallow-water obscured sand with so great of strength that the boat had turned about, moving to be parallel with the shoreline. Already, it was leaning haphazardly and swaying with each wash of the tide. "Shyke..." she muttered. If ever there was a time for her to be without a pod, this was not it.

Shaking her wild mane, she returned below deck to Wrenmae. "I managed to run us aground," she admitted sheepishly, looking at him through her hair. "I'll have to return to the docks tonight... or tomorrow," a sly look crossed her freckled features, "to have some sailors help me right it." With a sigh, she folded her limbs and sat upon the wooden floor again, hands fiddling in her lap.

In the span of an instant, Edreina became the shy one. It was not because of her nudity, that much she seemed to revel in. But, she was not sure how to continue on the path to which their feet had first fallen. "Care to... join me over here?" Her voice was quieter than before, matching the more toned down interior of the hull. In an instant, passion could burst forth and they could be lost once again. Or, he could take a slower approach to his explorations. Or, now that he was free of the grasp of the salty water, he could easily make a run for it and be rid of her.

[Wrenmae]

Left to consider, the hot thrumming in his head died to a quiet buzzing...as if the blood in his cheeks were instead a swarm of blush-colored bees swimming in his skin. He had fallen with her, all awkward limbs and rolling to avoid hurting her. On the ground now, staring up at the creaking ceiling, it was hard to imagine what had brought him here. The path was not clear, more a twisted and broken thing that fought bitterly with instinct.

He could find no moral protocol to reprimand his actions now. Both of them were forbidden by mark to intermingle and yet they found themselves drunk on the smell of each other and the intoxicating passion of touch. It was enough, now, to consider the path he had chosen to walk and where it had led him. Did he regret releasing the Balnag into the Suvan? Perhaps. But only in that it had not been done sooner. In the cramped tunnels beneath the island, it had waited and only dreamed about what it was to slip through the deep ocean, to ride the waves longingly.

Developed as a weapon or not, it deserved to be free. Rise above your function...he thought to himself, and he hoped that somewhere, the Balnag heard him.

When Edreina returned, the coy confidence had slipped out of her as if trailing behind the lamp-bright edges of her hair. She took a seat, instinctively covering her breasts...which seemed curious as she made no move to apply modesty to the rest of her. There was a story there, no doubt, and it only took a reflection on the Svefra he'd known to know what it was. The lithe sea-folk had little in their breast, more the whip-thin of the open sea...like clever acrobats along the rigging. She regretted the size of her breasts...or at least was self conscious of them.

And perhaps it was because the boldness that slipped from her had slithered into a new host, but Wren crossed the boat and knelt down, one knee kissing wood between her legs and his hands lightly but insistently drawing back her arms.

"You don't..." he paused, considered his words as blood thrummed in his skull, "You don't have to hide them," he smiled at her, almost sheepishly, "They're beautiful."

Putting out both hands he cupped them and dipped in for a hesitant kiss on the corner of her lips that grew stronger, more insistent, before he darted back and let his hands drop to slide along her legs and lower.

"There is awhile till the evening," and his voice was whispers, fluttered wings only, "We can take our time."

[Edreina]

His words were lightning in her veins. A gentle tremble raced across her fair skin, allowing a blush to settle upon her high cheeks. Despite all of the courage and confidence she pretended to have, she was still a self-conscious young woman unnerved by the changes in her body. The men of the Suvan did not favor a woman with any build other than one utterly perfect for slipping through the water like one of their finned kin. To hells with them, though. Edreina could swim better than her sister even on her worst day. The young Svefra was tempted for an instant to say "Thank you." but quickly realized how silly such a comment would sound in their current situation.

And then even the chills on her skin warmed in an instant as he reached to caress her as few others had. It was gentle, comforting. it was not the lust-drunk advance of a man who saw them only as a means of leverage, but of one who appreciated the curves in her form. That was more arousing than any skillfully placed touch. The caring, almost shy way that he leaned in to kiss her on the corner of the mouth endeared her to him. It was a moment that was about more than a shared lust, but a willingness to help the other overcome an obstacle.

The moment cracked and shattered in the most blissful way beneath the power of a whisper. That he was still interested reinvigorated the redhead's courage, causing her to rise slowly yo her knees until she came to hover slightly above him. Her thin hands with callouses across the palm from years of tending ropes rose to rest upon his jawline, softer pads of her thumbs skimming so sweetly along his cheek. Mercifully slowly, she leaned in and kissed him again, tilting her head to the side so that their lips locked more fully.

But, beyond that, she did not move. He was new to this, new to women in general. Again she paused in order to keep herself from overwhelming him. The pressure of her lips against his wavered every fraction of an instant, giving him the chance to pull away or to further the kiss. Any touch would be met with an appreciative body that curved and arched to better fit against his hand.

Depending upon the depth of his exploration, Wrenmae could easily learn the tone of the soft sigh that would leave her lips at any gentle touch across her lower back, or the perhaps the pitch of the soft whimper of pleasure incited by pressure upon her hips. If he was not careful, it would be easy for Edreina to forget the lesson she was supposed to be teaching and lose herself to the tide of lust.

[Wrenmae]

Perhaps it was better not to say that he was learning. Perhaps it might have been easier to classify his racing heart as measured, and the swell in his groin calculated. After all, men and women had been awkwardly in the throes of passion for centuries. Were they not all products of that fumbling experiment? That poignant moment where worries and doubts melt like snow against the spring heat? Even the mighty Kalean mountains knew, who stood like solemn soldiers against the carefree blue of the sky. Mizahar had seen more resounding loves before them and would feel more after.

Wrenmae was not a novice in the ways of love. No, indeed he was experienced, a veteran of rooftop daydreams, casually humming to the north winds as they passed along his brow. In his mind he had bed women a thousand times or more, burning with love for them, wild in appreciation for them. They were the stuff of dreams and adolescent sighs, chimeras built from the attributes he'd grown to appreciate.

The generous curve of hip, bountiful bosom swaying like ripe fruit, but more he had imagined the lips...new-pink and curled into a shy smile. She had always been shyer in his visions than Edreina was now, but that was not wholly a problem.

Had he not taken the role himself?

Her control was barely understood by the heart-high Wrenmae, instead his body shook with restrained action, tremors of an earthquake that rattled his bones and thoughts. While some men petched with their groin, the inexperienced petched with their hearts. Emotional symphonies crashed and clanged within his head, filling his vision with fire and his breast with warm glow. He pressed into her kiss, his hands trailing down her neck to leave the ghosts of his fingertips in temporary red lines down her front.

They paused on each breast, toying with their peaks before slipping lower. He moved with what felt like lethargy, but his mind was already several paces ahead of his hands...they moved quickly, but to him they felt like tired turtles. He explored the length and breadth of her body, pressing insistently at her sighs and breathy moans, encouraged by a language universal in scope.

So far, both of them had yet to sway in one way or another, upright and tugging against each other for dominance. He was the eager explorer and she the willing land. Blindly he mapped her geography, passionately tracing the lines of her canyons and hills.

There was no caution in his movement, the fear of before like tinder before the fire of instinct.

He held nothing back from her, pressing into the open invitation of her body.

There was no longer any need of a teacher.

[Edreina]

With her hands, she explored her way down his neck, to his chest, resting upon the lean swell of muscle that existed there. Her fingers were gentle upon him even as her body was ablaze. There was a roaring in her ears, a quickening to her breath.

Her back arched, pressing her hips closer to his. The evidence of his enjoyment caused her to gasp in surprise and smile gently against his lips. Emboldened, she caught his lower lip between hers, suckling gently, coaxingly before nipping it softly. A movement of his hands sent a tremor of pleasure racing through her body, causing her to tilt her head back, tugging on his lip before releasing it. When the shock of pleasure wore away, she returned to him, her burning lips hungrily finding his neck next.

A rain of kisses and bites intermingled with a gentle sucking assailed his exposed throat as she conducted a mapping of her own. Any point that elicited a favorable reaction was marked in her mind and filed away for later. While her lips whispered against his skin, her hands began to travel South again like wayward sailors, lost to the whims of an excited and unpredictable sea. Their touches grew warmer, as if a fever were slowly claiming them.

Inevitably, she came to rest upon the hem of his pants. Her fingers left a sparking trail along the soft skin that touched the hem as she traced it, movements slow enough to be questioning. "From here..." she whispered, lips brushing the lobe of his ear, "we can do anything you want... But you have to decide. I won't push you." Still her hands moved along his hips, a clear indication of her say in the matter, of what it was that she desired. The only thing for Wrenmae to do was to decide how she would continue her instruction. "Tell me... What would you like to do next?" A smirk entered her voice as she returned to his neck, moving down to continue her exporation of his shoulders and collarbone.

[Wrenmae]

When he looked back on this moment, Wren would have trouble recalling what exact sorcery he used to compel her further. There were words, certainly the hush and hiss of syllables, most whispered, as he breathed what felt like fire. Her skin was sweet despite the salty brine of sea and sweat, or perhaps that was how he chose to remember it. In truth, there was so much sensation that it was difficult to focus on any single moment.

Somehow, he bade her continue, and the two of them continued.

In memory, it was all one swathe of emotion and passion....the rhythm of muscles within other muscles, the repetition of simplistic biology. There would be more, but it was the absence of thought that made the moment magical...there were no descriptions or stories he could grasp that would help him sway here over unsteady waters.

Instead he simply felt his way through instinct and motion, devouring her and giving himself.

Perhaps their marks danced with opposite charges, hissing Laviku's disapproval but for them it was nothing but the sigh of gentle waves against the body of the ship they sailed, it was nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing...when faced with the magnetism of the moment.

Wren felt complete with Edreina, in ways he hadn't even felt he was lacking before. The wild passion by which she lived and loved, the haughty curl at the corner of her lip. There was so much to memorize in touch and sight. She was a part of him, and he her, at least for the moments they roiled together in their own storm.

And when it had finished, when at last they gasped in the aftermath, rising chests and familiar fingers entwined within each other, when the silence between them was thick and calm, communication given through trills of contentment...Wren spoke.

"Stay with me?" He asked it like a prayer, "For just a little while...maybe."

[Edreina]

Felt it was oddly fitting!

When all was said and done, Edreina felt a warmth in her soul the likes of which she had not in the past. Their elevated breath mingled and attempted to prolong the chemistry found in their earlier kisses. There had been no thought to their passion, no worry over what he was thinking about her nor whether or not she was doing well. His murmured and gasped exclamations were true voice to his pleasure just as her own were; he had not the experience to fake signs of his pleasure and this gave her heart.

In the end, Edreina was a mess of tangled red hair and breathless smiles. Without thought, her fingers found his and the digits tangled together as he wrapped an arm around her and she found a cozy spot against his side, head tucked beneath his chin. Every once in awhile, a happy little sound would leave her lips alongside her sigh, and she would find herself smiling again. A calm sort of drowsiness settled over her, and she felt her eyes drifting shut. That was, of course, until Wrenmae spoke so quietly she wondered if she had heard him at all.

Sitting up ever so slightly so that she could look at him, the Svefra was given no reason to doubt the sincerity in his eyes nor to search for ulterior motives. The hand not currently bound with his rose to stroke his face ever so gently, moving a strand of sweat dampened hair from his visage. There was a pleasant flush in his cheeks that dashed away every answer reasonable and logical. "I will stay..." she whispered, almost as if afraid of shattering the beauty of the moment with louder words, "I will stay until the tides pull us down parting paths." Her lips fell feather light upon his, and she caught herself inhaling slowly through her nose as she kissed him, growing dizzy off of the scent of them mingled together.

With that, she settled against his side once again, ignoring the tilt of her boat and the grumbling of her gnosis as her body pressed firmly against his. The electricity of their touch had dulled to a gentle humming. There was something different about this man from those of her own kin and, as much as it made her stomach roil in confusion, she found herself liking it. There was no pressure to be who she should be, only who she was. Perhaps the tide will roll more slowly than I anticipate.