The tent shivered slightly under the gusts coming from the valley. The wind passed between the ropes and made the iron rings jingle like a discreet death knell.
Inside, the air slled of hot wax and leather. Candles placed on the table, next to oil lamps, let out a thin smoke, thick at tis, mingling with the constant rustling of the parchnt.
Sitting, my pen gripped so tightly my fingers had turned white, I scribbled again, again.
The lines crossed each other, nervous scratches, arrows drawn in haste, numbers crossed out.
Abyssium extraction, smuggling routes, clan tensions, possible betrayals... every line was a tightrope that crushed my skull.
I barely heard the wind anymore, only the dry scratching of the pen on the fiber, a sound that gnawed at and kept awake.
I wasn’t allowed to forget a detail. Not allowed to be weak. If I relaxed, even for a second, everything would collapse. My plan, my future, their future. These weren’t just maps spread before ; it was the damn balance of the world, and I held everything in a trembling hand that still refused to let go.
I didn’t even look up when the tent’s entrance flap stirred gently. A soft step, almost inaudible, slid across the coarse rug. The scent shifted slightly, subtly: the sll of warm skin, a sweet note of sweat mixed with sothing intimate, feminine.
Sae.
She didn’t need to speak for my body to recognize her. A dull heat hit my stomach before I even turned my head. She advanced slowly, barefoot, her hips swaying in a lazy motion that was anything but innocent. Her white hair flowed down her back, reaching the hollow of her lower back, a cascade catching the fla light and reflecting it like liquid silver.
I swallowed. My eyes, despite myself, left my maps to lock on her. Her skin, pale, almost unreal, seed to glow in the flickering light. Her bare shoulders, delicate, fragile, barely hid the sensual strength of her body. Lower... her chest, heavy, perfect, rose with each breath. She didn’t even try to hide the provocation. Two high, full breasts, their tips outlined beneath the thin fabric she had draped over herself, just for show.
Fuck... even in this dim light, it was torture. Her wide hips called to my hands, and the sheer fabric clung enough to her skin for to guess what lay below. Her round, firm buttocks swayed with each step, as if she were deliberately interrupting , testing , breaking the fragile barrier of my obsession.
I gripped my pen tighter, taking up my parchnt as if my eyes hadn’t wandered. But my throat was already burning. She had stopped behind , and I felt her presence like a contactless caress, a heat that made forget, for a heartbeat, why I was still scribbling in the middle of the night.
— You’re still working... for the others?
Her voice, low, soft, slid into my back like a thread of warm silk. The line I had just drawn broke in the middle of the map, a blot of ink bursting under the pen’s tip. I cursed between my teeth and set the stylus down, jaw clenched.
I didn’t turn around imdiately. I felt her gaze, her light gray eyes piercing through the dimness. She knew I had heard her, and her silence after those words carried the weight of a trap.
— The world doesn’t wait, I finally answered, my voice harsher than I intended. Aedan moves forward. If I falter, if I slack... everything collapses.
I heard her snort, a muffled, almost mocking laugh. Then her steps. Slow, soft, as if hamring at my neck. She circled the table and stopped in front of . Her hips leaned lightly against the edge, two fingers away from my maps, and I was forced to lift my eyes.
She stared at , lips parted, a glint of defiance shining in her gaze. Her white hair slipped over her shoulders like a cascade, a living veil that brushed the top of her breasts. Free beneath the too-thin fabric, they swelled with her slow, calculated breathing.
— And you? she whispered. You don’t collapse? You think wearing yourself out like this will make you stronger?
Her fingers rested on the edge of the table, just beside my clenched hand. Her skin brushed my knuckles, light, but that tiny contact made shiver more than all the threats scribbled on my parchnts.
— If I let go... if I drop my guard for even a second... they’ll take everything.
I felt my voice tremble under my own obstinacy. She didn’t respond. Instead, she leaned in. Slowly. Her torso curved toward until the warm weight of her chest pressed against my shoulder. Her heavy, firm breasts against made lose the thread of my reasoning. Her breath grazed my temple, warm, carnal, making close my eyes despite myself.
I wanted to pull back, but her hands were already on . She slid one palm over my forearm, her fingers tracing the tense vein beneath my skin. The other rose to my shoulder, then to my neck, drawing lazy circles as if to loosen from the inside.
— Look at , she said softly.
I opened my eyes. Our gazes collided. She smiled, a tiny smile, but I saw in her pupils the sa provocation as in the curve of her hips. She was a burning breath in my icy tent, a violent reminder that I was still made of flesh, not just calculations and maps.
— You really think killing yourself with work will save this world? she continued. I think you need to breathe. To let go. Even just for a mont.
Her words stabbed into like thin blades. I wanted to retort, find justification... but her chest pressed against , her scent, her fingers digging into my neck... it all paralyzed .
Fuck... this was no longer an interruption. It was an attack.
Her fingers climbed my neck, caressing the base of my hair, occasionally pulling lightly as if testing my nerves. Her breath slid to my ear, warm, wet, each word a bite.
— You can’t... you’re forcing yourself...
I gritted my teeth, staring at my maps as if they could save . The pen trembled in my hand. I pressed so hard that the tip sank, tearing the parchnt.
— Not now, I whispered. I have to finish this...
She laughed. Low, rough. Not a genuine laugh, but a note that vibrated through my stomach. Her hand, up to then gentle on my arm, beca slower, heavier. It moved down. Along my bicep, my elbow, to my thigh.
— Finish what? lines on paper? You think that’s your empire?
I closed my eyes for a second. Bad idea. I no longer saw my maps, I no longer saw my plans. I only felt her palm on my chest, her fingers sliding under my collar, playing with my skin, my tensed muscles.
— Sae...
— Look at , she said.
I didn’t want to. But I did. And in her gray eyes, I saw exactly what I feared: that damn certainty that she would win.
Her hand slid lower. She grazed my thigh. Then my crotch. My muscles contracted sharply, as if I had taken a blade to the gut.
— Stop... I whispered, half-hearted, already less convinced.
Her lips pressed against my temple. A kiss. Then another, lower, at the edge of my jaw. I felt her breasts press harder against my shoulder, heavy, warm. Her hand moved again.
She touched . Not a brush. A real grasp. Her palm wrapped around my already-hard cock, and I let out a rough breath.
— Fuck...
The pen fell from my fingers. I wanted to grab it, reflexively, but Sae tightened her grip. My fingers clenched the edge of the table instead, knuckles white.
— See? she whispered in my ear. Your body already knows. You’re the only one still refusing.
She began to stroke . Slowly, cruelly almost. Her hand slid, firm, patient, drawing every nerve in my stomach. My mind still struggled, yelling at to resist, push her away, finish my damn plans. But my body... my body was burning, demanding.
I gripped the wood of the table so hard it hurt my fingers. I wanted to stay standing, to remain master, but she... she possessed with just one hand.
— Sae... I... not now...
— Yes, now.
Her voice was both a caress and an order. She sped up, her lips sliding along my neck, sucking my skin. I felt her teeth, a brief bite that made gasp.
And I gave in.
All the calculations, all the maps, all the strategies... swept away with a hip thrust and a hand gripping my cock.
Her fingers still tightened around , but it wasn’t enough for her. She pulled sharply by the neck, her mouth taking mine in a deep, wet, brutal kiss. My breath collided with hers, all control I had tried to keep dissolved in an instant.
I finally let go of the table. She took advantage. Sae stepped back sharply, her hands already on my clothing, sliding it off my shoulders. I was nearly naked, the cold air of the tent on my burning skin. She pushed , without gentleness, until my back hit the wooden table. My maps, notes, abyssium plans crumpled, crushed between us.
— There, she breathed, looking at , eyes shining. I finally tear you away from your damn papers.
She climbed against , legs between mine, and I felt the heat of her pussy, barely covered by thin fabric, rubbing against my thigh. Her breasts pressed against my chest, heavy, already moist. She moaned low, a guttural sound that made harder, as if my body had been waiting for the signal.
— Sae...
— Shut up, she cut off. Let .
Her hands slid between us, she pulled impatiently the fabric covering her lower belly. The raw nudity of her wet, warm sex pressed directly against my skin. I barely had ti to react before she guided herself, pressing my rigid cock against her entrance.
A shiver ran through . I hesitated for a second — guilt, again. But she attacked directly: a sharp hip thrust, and my cock sank into her at once.
— Aaah... fuck...
Her moan threw my head back. Her nails scratched my shoulders, her breasts bounced against my chest as she thrust her hips further, taking whole. Her heat engulfed , devoured . I thought of nothing else. Only this raw sensation of her pussy gripping .
— See? she panted, forehead pressed to mine. This is what makes you alive. Not your numbers. Not your maps. .
She began to move. Slowly at first, dominating , her hips rolling against mine, rubbing every inch of my cock in her soaked pussy. The wood creaked behind , the papers crumpled beneath her ass as she pressed further. Each ti she went down, she moaned in my ear, a dirty, uncontrolled sound that set fire to my loins.
— Hhn... Sora...
She led the dance. She rode almost on the table, using my body as I had to use my maps: thodically, strategically. Every movent of her hips was an attack. Every stolen kiss on my lips, a diversion.
I resisted. My hands still clutched the table edge, as if refusing to take part. But she crushed , forced to yield. My muscles burned from within, not just with desire but with the rage of losing.
So I decided to counterattack, my hands gripping her hips with renewed strength... tonight, the battle had only just begun.
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