All A Hero Needs Is A Quest 8

Vicca gasped, torn between delight at having Karne’s educated tongue at her navel, exploring its round little dimple, and heartbreak at him abandoning her cunt, no longer giving her the pleasure that had become a storm whirling inside her.

It was always such when she approached a peak—Karne didn’t bear down on her, forcing her to completion, but strayed as if following some whim. Allowing her rapture to ebb and become seething arousal; an arousal far greater than she had ever experienced before lovemaking. Somehow, he made her want it even more than when she didn’t have it.

He kissed the firm roundness of her stomach, while underneath, his hands petted their way from her lower belly to her thighs. Rubbing and massaging as if to speed along the emotions that his lips made, going straight to her cunt. Vicca purred, feeling him twine his fingers in her pubic jungle, plucking at her thatch hairs like they were the strings of a harp. But the music was all inside her.

Even the prickle of the hay she lay on faded—she knew nothing but the feel of corded masculinity in Karne’s arms, wrapping around her hips and plump bottom. His fingers pulled at the creamy flesh of her ass, petting and stirring feelings… absurdly reminding Vicca of how adroitly Karne soothed their horses whenever one spooked.

She wondered if he meant to be as able at handling her as he was their mounts. If he thought she needed such help to weather the bliss he intended to inflict on her.

His fingers alighted on some stray nerve in her buttock, playing along it to make her tingle so hard that she squeezed her thighs together in attempted denial. That seemed Karne’s signal to resume her ravishment. With bullish insistence, he forced her legs apart and again set his head between them.

Vicca writhed and gasped, panting for breath that there was no reason she couldn’t summon. Once more she thought of their horses, all a’lather. She was spraying her breath out like she’d been at full gallop for miles, but she was only lying here, letting Karne labor at her.

She was quickening, swelling with the love juices she would soon give to Karne’s thirsty mouth. Vicca didn’t know what strange alchemy made it so that some spot within her, if touched enough by Karne’s tongue, could take her pleasure from simple fun to something that flowed and surged and forced its way out of her.

She knew men had their seed and women had to get the seed; that women were there for men’s pleasure and propagation, as she’d been taught. But there was pleasure in giving pleasure; she loved satisfying Karne and Karne had to feel the same, the way he was so adamant about bringing her to sheerest transport…

A lick across her center and Vicca’s control was stolen away, all over again. She clamped her thighs shut, catching Karne’s head right where she wanted it. His hands moved over her flanks, stroking and petting the thighs she held him captive with as he would mollify a skittish colt. No matter how tightly she held him, Vicca could not consider herself in control—not when his tongue was doing what it was doing.

A rosy flush suffused her voluptuous body, the color settling onto her like a layer of liquid, painting her to match the passion-red flurry within. She moaned, squirmed, danced her pelvis as though to keep up with the whipping motions of Karne’s tongue. She could not catch up to it; its pleasures would not settle into something she could withstand or be inured to.

Vicca let out a little coughing shriek. Her labia reeled apart under the pressure of Karne’s next lick. His agile tongue pressed inside her, a slippery eel that her folds tightened on but couldn’t hold. She wished he would stop—pause long enough for her to catch her breath and at least identify these feelings swamping her body—in her ardor, Vicca didn’t recall how put out she’d been during his recent visit to her belly button, leaving her pussy alone as she longed for him to do now.

Blissful moans assailed her ears continuously. Vicca wondered who else could be in such ecstasy until she realized they were coming from her. It was more than pleasure she felt now. Karne’s lapping found a receptive vessel to fill deep in her belly and it was soon laden with tension. Karne’s tongue worked in lazy circles, satisfying Vicca even as the rising contents of the vessel promised more.

Her thighs clasped and unclasped, working their lustful pressure against the immovable obstacle of Karne’s head. She branded the tender skin of her inner thighs with his stubble, trying to crush the source of her pleasure to where she was so vulnerable to it.

It worked, after a fashion: sensing her mounting need, Karne drove his tongue cock-deep into her. Vicca was saturated for delight. She thrust her head back against the piled hay, trying to relax and simply let this decadent feeling have its way with her. But there was no limpidness in the offing when such ecstasy was having its way with her.

Her body had always been hers and hers alone. She’d put little thought into sharing it with Karne, assuming it would be hers again afterward. But it conspired with him against her, flooding her mind with feelings she couldn’t account for and could not fight. No wonder these sensations were meant to be discovered in the marital bed. She couldn’t feel them without being enthralled to their source… a slave to them…

Gods, the maddening tension! She felt like some steel ingot in a forge, being hammered in the proper shape against all logic and reason! Red-hot, so that everything once firm and known was malleable. But no blacksmith had ever been so deft in his manipulations as Karne. Whatever vessel was inside her felt stuffed and overfull now—twisting, stretching, straining, until she knew it would break. It was only a question of when.

His hands curled into claws, raking her buttocks, rending open her mute numbness to let pure sensation in. Vicca couldn’t believe she’d lived so long without knowing her body’s potential; without realizing the pleasure it was capable of. She felt herself soar, floating upwards until her spine bent and she was craned over Karne’s head, dragging her fingernails over his back. Sticky needles of hay drifted off her heaving body. Sweat dripped away from her. All she felt, through the haze of pleasure, was Karne’s arms around her waist, his smile in her lap, and his tireless tongue taking ruthless advantage of how sensitive she was.

It felt like the Gods had misplaced a whirlwind or a thunderstorm, putting it inside her instead of up in the clouds. It hurt, it twisted her insides into knots, but however bad it got, Vicca still wanted more. She heard a thin keening moan and knew it was her own—if anyone within earshot was feeling so luscious, it had to be her.

And, more the wonder, Karne liked doing this to her. He couldn’t get enough of the taste of her, otherwise he would’ve stopped long ago. Would he ever stop? She didn’t want him to, except that if she could get her bearings, maybe she could convince herself this was really happening. That it wasn’t all some fever dream.

Reaching up now to fondle her cleavage, Karne licked her, kissed her, caressed her with her lips. His tongue went into secret pockets of delight within her that Vicca had never known were there to be accessed. Every flick of his tongue wound the tension tighter, making Vicca feel like she was about to be torn apart by all she was feeling.

Like a tidal wave caught within a bottle, there was no way it could all fit. It was magic that she’d lasted even a moment, experiencing all of this.

It couldn’t last. Maybe a warrior woman like Sonja could take all of this, but not her. Too much. Just too much for a simple milk maiden of Cramhold. Great rolling waves of delirious feeling battered Vicca again and again—each one overwhelming her.

Darkness tugged at her. It seeped into her vision. She nearly fainted, before another slash of Karne’s tongue returned her to orgiastic consciousness. He wouldn’t stop, only substitute one pleasure for another. Taking his tongue away—Vicca gasped in relief—he slotted his finger into her instead.

And on his first stroke inside, found another pocket of feeling Vicca had never known was there. A plug in that vessel inside her, and when he touched it, all the passion drained out of it to permeate the rest of her body. Now all of her joined in what her cunt had felt. Her flesh all sang, but Vicca’s lips were dumb, insensate. They could only fit the noise into a scream.

“HHAAAAHHHH!”

Vicca knew her own voice, but barely. She’d never taken it so high before. She felt a great leap inside her, as though there was a geyser inside her that had suddenly become overfull. Frothing out of her with a heat she hadn’t known her body was capable of.

The tension all released at once, purged from her in marvelous lunges of feeling like the wetness was licking her from the inside on its way out. Doing as Karne had shown it. Vicca felt herself melting down until she was sure the hay would soak her up, she was so boneless, so empty of any motion other than sagging downward.