He reached toward her, his fingers grazing her arm.  “Running away, already?”

She glanced back at him as she walked to his study where her dropped cloak lay.  “Running away?”  A chuckle escaped her lips.  “Haven’t you proven to me that running is futile?  It’s not like I can hide; you know that eventually I’ll be in Falkreath or Riften.  You’ll find me.”

“Will I have to?”  he asked.


“What is it about her that has you captivated by her?” Astrid asked angrily.

Gabriella sighed as she watched the woman stalking around the room, her anger and jealousy radiating through her words.  The Dunmer had grown tired of the jealousy long ago and had done her best to avoid any conversation about Meliandra with her former lover.  “Why do you continue on about Meliandra, Astrid?” she asked.  “To keep doing so will not make things return to the way they were before her arrival.”

“I wish I had just killed that whore,” the blonde snapped suddenly.

“Watch your words.”

“Or what?”
Gabriella turned and walked to the door, shaking her head slightly.  “Astrid, allow me to speak as an old friend… and listen well to the words I say.”  She paused a moment then said, “The woman I met and fell in love with over a decade ago was someone confident in who they were and the people around them.  But something happened to that woman and she turned bitter and cold, trusting no one, not even herself.  Take care, Astrid, for the road you travel is one that will only lead to isolation and death.”

Astrid stared at the Dunmer as she calmly exited, shutting the door behind her.


The sound of a sharp rap on his door with his name being called out woke him up.  Opening his eyes, he smiled as he saw Meliandra asleep next to him, her naked body stretched alongside his.  He got out of bed, pulled the bed furs over Meliandra’s nakedness, picked up his cloak, and went to open the door before Galmar’s voice awoke the sleeping Breton.  Unbolting the door, he let his general in and as he headed toward his study, instructing the man to shut the door.

Galmar looked at him quizzically as he shut the door, noting the jarl’s lack of attire and the form of a sleeping woman beneath the furs on Ulfric’s bed.  He smiled, a chuckle escaping his lips as he said, “Wild night?”

“You might say that.”

“As long as it gets your mind off that Breton girl, I’ve got no complaints.”

Ulfric paused, glanced at the bed, then back at Galmar, his eyebrow arched, a hint of a smirk hiding on his lips.  “Then perhaps you should keep your complaints to yourself.”

Galmar stopped and looked back at the bed, seeing Meliandra’s face clearly this time nestled beneath the furs.  His face became angry and he turned to the jarl once more.  “You fucked her?”  He paused then continued, “Obviously you fucked her.  But why?  By your own words you do not trust her.”

“I need not explain myself to you, Galmar.”

The general bristled.  “Have you taken leave of your senses, Ulfric?”

“Have you?” the jarl countered, the irritation in his voice becoming noticeable.

“What do you really know about this girl?” he demanded pointedly.

Ulfric cast a withering look at his friend.

“You know I’m right, Ulfric.”

“I know you overstep your place.”  He sat at his desk and looked at him.  “What brings you to my chambers this morning?”

“I was going to talk to you about our next move, but I think I’m going to wait until we can speak privately.”

Ulfric nodded.  “that would be best.  Meliandra will be leaving for Falkreath later today’ we will discuss what lays before us tonight.”  He glanced at the bed beyond the door to his study and thought briefly about the woman who lay asleep in it, wondering what exactly had brought her to him last night; he looked back at his general.  “Your…concerns are noted, old friend.”

“Hmph.  Just make sure you’re not thinking with your dick, Ulfric.  That girl is nothing but trouble; it’s written all over her face.”

“You are dismissed, Galmar,” Ulfric snapped shortly, his eyes going cold as he stared at his friend.  He waited until he heard the door open and shut again before he got up and walked back to the bed.  Meliandra hadn’t moved during the time he had been out of bed; he removed his cloak and crawled back into bed, pulling the Breton close to him as he kissed the area of her neck that met her shoulder.  Soon she was making pleasured sounds as sleep lifted from her, bringing a smile to his face.  “Good morning, my Temptress,” he murmured against her skin, his lips lightly caressing her skin.  “I trust you slept well?”

Her answer was to turn her head, meeting his gaze as she leaned up to kiss him, pressing her lips firmly against his.  She turned her body into his, his hands running up her arms as he returned her kiss.  She felt his desire stirring against her, the intensity of his kiss growing as his hands found their way to her face, cupping it as his kiss deepened.  Throwing her leg over his waist, she brought herself atop of him, a smirk upon her face as she said, “Morning.”

He looked at her above him, his eyes taking in every detail of her, the trim physique of her body, the definition of her muscle tone, the scars that were evidence to the battles she had fought and won.  She ran her fingernails down his chest, a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.  He went to lean up toward her, but she set her palm against his chest and pushed back, a smirk on her face as she leaned over, pressing her lips against his.  He held her head, her hair entwining in his fingers as he returned the kiss, the passion building inside of him against as it did the previous night.  She began gyrating her groin atop of him, slowly, seductively, making him grow hard against her.

He groaned, wanting her, craving her, needing to have her envelop him once again.  His hands found their way to her thighs, gripping them as she rubbed herself on his groin.  “Even now you must tease me?”

She smiled as she leaned down, placing soft kisses upon his chest, murmuring, “Of course; teasing is only the beginning of pleasure.”  Readjusting herself slightly, she shifted her weight back and felt Ulfric’s shaft slip comfortably deep inside her, eliciting pleasured moans from both of them as she began rocking herself back and forth, eyes closed and biting her lip.

The jarl’s hands traveled up her waist finding their way to her firm breasts where he began massaging them, roughly, tweaking her nipples into stiff perks before raising himself enough to wrap his arms around her, cupping her breasts with his mouth, suckling them as if a hungry babe.  He felt her hands combing through his hair, her moaning, lustfully, as his ears picked up his name being uttered over and over; he found his arousal was becoming more and more demanding as he felt the build up intensifying.

He pulled her closer to him and brought her lips to his, crushing them with the hunger he felt deep within himself.  “Meliandra,” he growled thickly, “his breath coming in short bursts, “you must quench this fire.”

In response, the Breton changed the tempo of her movements, increasing it until she had worked herself into a heated frenzy until finally she cried out as her orgasm spread through her body, his name once more being called out.

Ulfric’s own orgasm began as hers came to its end, his hands gripping her thighs tight as he flooded her womb with his seed.  He reached up, cupping the back of her head with his hand and drew her close to him, kissing her deeply.  “Good morning, my Temptress,” he said thickly.

Smiling, she responded, “Ulfric” and then began to get out of bed.

He reached toward her, his fingers grazing her arm.  “Running away, already?”

She glanced back at him as she walked to his study where her dropped cloak lay.  “Running away?”  A chuckle escaped her lips.  “Haven’t you proven to me that running is futile?  It’s not like I can hide; you know that eventually I’ll be in Falkreath or Riften.  You’ll find me.”

“Will I have to?”  he asked.

“Find me?”  She shook her head, picking up her cloak and draping it around her shoulder, clasping it with a golden brooch.  “No, you won’t. I’ll be coming back.”  Thinking of Amaund Motierre and the job he was paying for, she smiled and continued, “I have a feeling you are going to be seeing a whole lot more of me.”

Author: AisleenHaus

Leaving the real world for one of my own making.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s