The feast before looks like it belongs in a painting, not on a rickety inn table in so backwater town whose na I already forgot. Steam rises from platters of roasted at, the aroma so rich it makes my mouth water embarrassingly. After a day of hard riding that left my thighs raw and my back aching, this spread feels like a fever dream.
"Are you going to keep staring, or are you going to eat?" Skara asks, her blonde hair pulled back in a practical braid that does nothing to soften her imposing presence. Even out of her armor, wearing just a simple linen shirt, she radiates power like heat from a forge.
I blink, still processing the sheer abundance. Glazed fruits, crusty bread, so kind of pie with golden crust, and what looks like an entire roasted bird for each of us. My fingers hover uncertainly before grabbing what appears to be a turkey leg.
The first bite hits like a revelation. Perfectly seasoned, juicy at slides off the bone, the skin crisp and fragrant with herbs I can't even identify. I can't help the groan that escapes .
"You like it?" Skara asks, a rare smile softening her usually stern face.
"Yes," I manage between bites, "it's incredible." The words feel pathetically inadequate. After weeks of trail rations and whatever cheap stew Mirelle and I could afford, this tastes like sothing from another universe, my universe, where food was ant to be enjoyed, not just consud for survival.
"Good," Skara says, genuine satisfaction warming her voice. "I'm happy then." She tears into her own portion with gusto, sohow maintaining dignity despite the grease shining on her fingers. "The Saint should always eat well."
I pause mid-bite, the title still uncomfortable, like clothes that don't quite fit. "How could you afford all this?" I gesture at the feast with my half-eaten turkey leg. "This must have cost a small fortune."
Skara shrugs, her muscled shoulders rising and falling casually. "I'm an A-rank adventurer. This isn't that big a deal at all." She reaches for a goblet of wine, taking a deep swallow.
She gestures toward my untouched goblet with a casual flick of her wrist. "Try the wine. It's from the southern vineyards."
I lift the heavy silver cup and take a cautious sip. The wine hits my tongue like liquid velvet, rich and complex with notes of blackberry and sothing earthy I can't quite place.
"Holy fuck, that's good," I blurt out, imdiately taking another, longer drink. The wine slides down my throat, warming from the inside out.
Skara laughs, the sound surprisingly lodic coming from soone who could probably bench press without breaking a sweat. "I thought you might appreciate it. The innkeeper saves her best bottles for special guests."
The al continues, one course following another in a dizzying procession. Roasted vegetables glistening with butter. So kind of ga hen stuffed with wild mushrooms. A fish stew fragrant with saffron. Each dish more incredible than the last, and always accompanied by more of that incredible wine.
As the evening progresses, I notice a strange sensation building. It's not drunkenness exactly, my head remains clear despite the wine, but sothing else entirely. A warmth spreads through my lower body, pooling in my groin with an intensity that's becoming impossible to ignore.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, grateful for the table concealing what's becoming an embarrassingly persistent erection. The pressure against my trousers is almost painful, throbbing with each heartbeat.
When I glance up, I catch Skara watching . Her cheeks are flushed. Those wild blue eyes that frightened in the forest now hold a different kind of intensity, hunger mixed with sothing predatory that makes my pulse quicken.
I've never noticed before how the thin linen of her shirt clings to her torso, outlining perfect breasts above that ridiculously sculpted abdon. My gaze trails down to those abs, each muscle defined like they were carved from marble. A bead of sweat forms on my brow as I realize I'm staring.
Skara notices. Her lips curve into a knowing smile as she drains the last of her wine.
"Is sothing wrong, Saint?" she asks, her voice lower, huskier than before.
"I'm fine," I lie, my own voice sounding strained to my ears. "Just... the wine. It's strong."
She sets down her empty goblet with deliberate slowness. "Is it? I find it rather mild."
I try to respond, but my mouth feels strangely dry despite all the wine I've consud. The heat building inside intensifies with each passing second, a fire spreading through my veins that has nothing to do with alcohol. My breathing grows ragged as I shift in my seat again, desperately trying to ease my hardness down to sothing more manageable.
"Are you sure you're alright?" Skara asks, though her knowing smile tells she already has the answer.
"I'm... burning up," I manage to say, tugging at my collar. The room suddenly feels impossibly hot, the air thick and heavy.
Skara rises from her seat with fluid grace, her movents deliberate and predatory. She circles the table toward .
"Let help you," she purrs, extending her hand.
Before I can respond, her fingers wrap around my wrist. The curse activates instantly, freezing my muscles as that familiar purple glow fills my vision. But this ti, sothing feels different. The paralysis mingles with the heat coursing through , creating a sensation that's both terrifying and exhilarating.
"Co," she commands, pulling to my feet.
My body responds automatically, following her across the room toward the bed in the corner.
"No," I say, but the word lacks conviction. My voice sounds distant even to my own ears, breathy and weak. "I don’t want to."
Skara leans close, her breath hot against my ear. "I drugged us both, Sam," she whispers, a husky chuckle following the confession. "The food, the wine, all of it laced with sothing special. You can't fight what you're feeling right now. Neither can I."
My eyes widen as understanding crashes through the fog of arousal. The heat in my veins, the throbbing need, it wasn't just the wine. "You... what?"
She releases my wrist and steps back, her fingers moving to the hem of her linen shirt. With one fluid motion, she pulls it over her head, revealing those perfect breasts I'd been trying not to stare at earlier. The firelight dances across her muscled torso, highlighting every defined curve.
"Get naked," she commands, her voice thick with desire.
My body responds instantly, fingers fumbling with the ties of my shirt, then moving to my trousers. I peel away each layer with chanical precision, my mind screaming protests while my flesh burns with need.
When I stand before her completely bare, she smiles approvingly and reclines on the bed. Her powerful thighs part as she settles against the pillows.
"Co," she says, patting the space beside her.
I step forward, my cock painfully hard, practically begging to plunge into her.
"I can't," I whisper, though my body trembles with the effort of standing still.
Skara's eyes flash with montary irritation before softening into sothing like curiosity. She reaches for my hand, her grip firm but not painful. With deliberate slowness, she guides my fingers between her thighs, dipping them into her slick heat. The sensation is electric, my fingertips tingling where they touch her most intimate place.
Before I can process what's happening, she brings my hand to my mouth. My fingers glisten with her essence in the dim light.
"How do I taste?" she asks, her wild blue eyes studying my reaction.
The truth hits my tongue before I can filter it. She tastes better than anything on that lavish table, sweet and musky and primal. Sothing in wants to dive between her thighs and feast until she screams.
But I won't give her the satisfaction.
"It's fine, I guess," I lie, struggling to keep my expression neutral despite the drug's effects.
Skara's eyebrows rise, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "You know sothing interesting, Sam?" she says, her voice dropping to that dangerous purr. "When I told you to strip just now, I wasn't touching you."
"What...?"My mind struggles to make sense of her words through the haze of lust. Before I can process it fully, she grabs my wrist again and pulls on top of her.I find myself straddling her powerful thighs, my knees sinking into the mattress on either side of her hips.
"Be free," she whispers, her blue eyes wild with desire. "Move as you wish."
I flex my fingers experintally, stunned to find I can control my own body despite straddling a woman.
Skara's hands slide up my thighs, her calloused palms rough against my skin as she guides my hips. She presses firmly on my lower back, positioning so my cock hovers just above her slick entrance.
"You can do whatever you want with , Sam," she says, her voice husky with need. "But you have to do it because you want to."
The scent of her arousal hits like a physical blow. I stare down at her, spread beneath like so pagan offering. Her pussy glistens in the dim light, pink and swollen and impossibly inviting. The drug amplifies everything, every sensation, every desire, until my entire world narrows to this single point of need.
Sothing primal takes over. I'm no longer thinking of Kayla or Mirelle or anything beyond this mont. With a growl that doesn't sound like , I thrust forward, burying myself inside her in one savage motion.
The sensation is overwhelming. She's hot and tight and perfect around . I throw my head back and roar like so feral beast, my hips already pulling back to drive into her again.
"That's it," Skara hisses, her powerful legs wrapping around my waist, matching my intensity. "Show what you really are."
I beco sothing else entirely, sothing wild and untad. My hips piston with brutal force, each thrust harder than the last. Sweat pours down my chest as I fuck her with an intensity that would terrify if I could think clearly. But there are no thoughts now, just sensation and primal need.
Skara ets every thrust with equal ferocity. Her powerful body arches beneath , those incredible abs flexing as she drives herself onto .
I explode inside her with an intensity that makes my vision blur. A strangled whimper escapes my throat as I empty myself deep within her, waves of pleasure crashing through my body. But sothing's wrong, or terrifyingly right. The release doesn't bring relief. My cock remains rock hard inside her, throbbing with undiminished need.
Skara's wild blue eyes lock with mine, pupils blown wide with a frenzied hunger that mirrors the chaos in my veins. Her gaze is unhinged, almost feral, yet sohow it perfectly matches the primal storm raging inside .
"Don't stop," she growls, her powerful hips still grinding against .
I don't. I can't. My body moves with renewed vigor, driving into her with desperate, hungry thrusts. The drug pulses through my system, amplifying every sensation until I'm drowning in it.
I bend forward, drawn to her heaving chest like a man possessed. My mouth finds her nipple, lips closing around the hardened peak. I suck with desperate intensity, tasting salt and sweetness as my hips maintain their relentless rhythm.
Skara arches beneath , a guttural moan tearing from her throat. Her fingers tangle in my hair, yanking hard enough to send sparks of pain shooting across my scalp. The sensation only intensifies the pleasure, blurring the line between agony and ecstasy.
"Yes," she hisses, pulling my hair tighter, forcing harder against her breast. "Yes, like that."
Her other hand grips my ass, nails digging into the flesh as she pulls deeper inside her. The bed creaks dangerously beneath us, our bodies moving with enough force to threaten its wooden fra.
I feel myself building toward another climax already, impossibly soon after the first. Whatever she drugged us with has removed all normal limitations. I'm nothing but sensation and need, a creature of pure instinct.
"Look at ," Skara demands, yanking my head up by my hair.
I et her gaze, finding sothing terrifying in those blue depths, not just lust or madness, but recognition. Like she sees sothing in that I've been hiding even from myself.
"You're not fighting anymore," she observes, her voice rough with exertion but eerily lucid. "This is what you truly are."
"Armpit," I blurt out, the word escaping my mouth before my brain can intervene.
Skara's rhythm falters, her wild blue eyes widening with confusion. "What?"
The drug courses through my veins like liquid fire, stripping away every inhibition and filter I've ever had. I'm watching myself from sowhere outside my body, horrified yet fascinated by what I'm becoming.
"I want to fuck your armpit," I growl, my voice unrecognizable even to my own ears. The primal creature that's taken over doesn't care about dignity or sha. "Right now."
A slow, predatory smile spreads across Skara's face, sothing between amusent and approval flickering in those feral eyes. "You can do whatever you want," she purrs, raising her muscled arm above her head, creating the perfect hollow where her bicep ets her torso.
I pull out of her with a wet pop. My cock stands painfully erect, glistening with our combined fluids as I reposition myself. The drug has turned into sothing else entirely, sothing that operates on pure animal instinct.
I press my cock into the tight space beneath her arm, the sweat-slicked skin creating a channel that my drug-addled brain finds irresistibly erotic. Her muscled arm closes around , creating delicious pressure as I begin to thrust.
"Look at you," Skara whispers, her voice thick with wonder. "The Saint, reduced to humping my body like a beast."
Her words should sting, should trigger so sense of sha, but they only fuel the fire raging through . I thrust harder, faster, my eyes rolling back as pleasure builds again.
"You're magnificent," she continues. "This is what n are ant to be, pure desire, pure need."
I'm barely listening, lost in the sensation of skin against skin. My hips move with desperate urgency as another orgasm approaches, impossibly strong despite having just climaxed minutes ago.
"I'm going to…" I gasp, but she cuts off.
"Do it," she commands, tightening her arm around my cock. "Show what you can do."
Release tears through with such force that I cry out, my seed spilling across her chest and neck in hot pulses. The room spins around , colors too bright, sensations too intense. I collapse forward, barely catching myself before crushing her beneath .
Skara guides to lie beside her, my chest heaving as I struggle to catch my breath.
Before I can fully recover, Skara's lips find mine in a hungry kiss. Her mouth claims like we belong together. The drug still pulses through my system, obliterating all resistance. I kiss her back with equal fervor, my tongue tangling with hers as heat builds between us again.
When she finally breaks the kiss, her wild blue eyes search my face. Her fingers trace my jaw with surprising tenderness, a stark contrast to the feral creature who just ravaged .
"What next?" she whispers, her voice husky with renewed desire. "Tell what the beast inside you wants."
The drug strips away my last shred of dignity. Without hesitation, I hear myself answer with sothing I’m not sure I even knew about myself.
“Feet.”
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