6 comments/ 6440 views/ 8 favorites Rogue and Rake Ch. 01 By: CelticQuill Being a newbie author around these parts, I'm just starting to test out my storytelling style. Normally I like to include a lot more backstory and exposition, but I'm still not entirely sure that type of thing is warranted here. This series of stories is taking place as parts in a larger story, so there is potentially plenty of backstory to be had. If people let me know they are interested, I will gladly include more actual story (it's a good one, trust me!); if not, I'll do my best to keep it to just the "juicy" bits! The door eased shut with a soft click as Aranda padded barefoot across the carpeted floor of her chambers. An hour-long soak in a steaming bath had done wonders for her aching muscles, but had only served to intensify the fire raging between her legs. It had been a fortnight since that fateful night in Bealach Sídhe, the country village which sat on the edge of a portal between the plane of the mortal realm and that of the Fhiáine, the eternal lands of high elves and fae creatures. Aranda had been a part of the company hired to route a clan of trolls which had been causing trouble for the village. As word spread quickly of their rousing success, their group had been summoned to aid the baron of the nearby province of Tuath and they were forced to depart little more than a day after their victorious return. Aranda was certain that they all could have used a little more rest before taking to the road again, as everyone had been a little tenser with one another than usual. Part of that probably stemmed from the fact that they had been double-crossed by one of their own company while on the troll-hunt, which set in motion a series of arcane shock waves that created a ragged tear in the fabric of reality. That would leave anyone a little edgy. But the other source of the group's tension was likely due to the fact that the wizard had committed them to this new assignment without first consulting the rest of the party because, as he put it, 'it was their fault the barony needed help in the first place'. Technically it wasn't their fault; the three just had the misfortune of being the ones left alive to clean up the mess. As far as Aranda was concerned, the way to deal with someone approaching you with a problem was to first pin whatever happened on someone else, and secondly to ask for at least half the payment up front. To put it politely, she and Galen had differing opinions on that matter. To put it bluntly, she strongly suspected the next time the wizard did something like that, there was a good possibility he would not live long enough to see the contract carried out. At any rate, the job had been a fairly easy, if bizarre, one. A good old-fashioned extraplanar monster hunt through ancient ruins hidden within a system of magically barricaded caves: an adventure just like the ones bards never sung about. The pay had been good, at least, and to top it all off the baron had unhesitatingly put them up in his own country estate. Where they were given free access to heated water. Aranda had to admit the accommodations were nice, but she was getting restless. The incessant monster hunting was getting tiresome and it had been far too long since she'd had a good, solid thieving job. She figured that if she could not have the satisfaction of a good fuck that she craved with every fiber of her being, she would just have to take solace in her work. Sadly, commissions from her back-alley contacts had been few and far between as of late. Until now. That evening, as she made her way into her private quarters, Aranda found a note slipped under the door to her chambers. She slid the folded square of parchment out of its unaddressed envelope and carefully unfolded it along the not-quite-symmetrical creases. As she read the correspondence, her eyes picked out several characteristic misspellings, as identifiable as any sigil or brand. Though it had not been signed she easily recognized the author as the Hand, leader of the thieves' guild known as "The Fivers" back in Bealach Sídhe. It was a bid from the guild for an infiltration and acquisition. Finally, she had a job she could sink her teeth into! The task wasn't the most complex heist she had ever pulled—more of a simple get in, grab, get out sort of deal—but it certainly beat the charity work the wizard had them doing recently. And who knew, if she did this errand for the Fivers, maybe they would give her a little less grief whenever she was in town in the future. It was worth a little risk to have the Hand owe you a favor. According to the note, the baron with whom she was currently contracted was in possession of a certain ledger which the Hand—or rather, one of the Hand's wealthy clients—wanted. He did not provide further details, and Aranda didn't need any. She had no qualms performing a bit of procurement work, especially when she was lifting the item from a filthy rich magistrate; an item which was just a dusty old bundle of parchments that likely hadn't seen the light of day in a few decades at least. Who was she to say who really owned what, especially if their security was not good enough to keep their precious things protected? With an eagerness she had not felt in months, she began her preparations. Aranda let the luxuriously soft white towel that she had wrapped herself in fall to the carpeted floor, its plush softness passing over her hardening nipples, as she shook out her wet hair in a second towel. Naked, she casually strode over to the wardrobe which held her attire and gear, finally starting to feel like her old self again. "If a job like this can't get me back on my game," she mused as she perused her small array of garments, "I don't know what can." Except a good, hard fuck, a voice in the back of her mind whispered. She knew it to be true; ever since that night in Bealach Sídhe had left her frustrated and unfulfilled, she had not been operating at peak performance. Sometimes you needed to scratch a really pesky itch, and sometimes circumstances were cruel and just wouldn't let you. This was the first time since that encounter that she'd had any measure of privacy to address her needs. Her right hand crept down to her crotch as she let her mind drift back to the events of that night. The celebration and drunken revelry. The sexual tension between them reaching a crescendo. The momentary distraction... and the missed opportunity. Finally, the near-consolation her imagination had granted her as a consolation prize the next day. She was wet again, and this time the bath had nothing to do with it. She allowed her hand to linger there, her fingers playing over her soft lips and swollen clit. After a moment Aranda took a deep breath, let out a sigh of regret over her inability to reach that blissful completion, both then and now, and continued getting ready. Hopefully concentrating on this job would force her past this gods-damned mental block. For a heist like this, she decided, the black leather body suit would do nicely. The padded suede was soft, supple, and silent—The three S's of a good burglary, she thought with amusement as she stepped into the legs, the soft leather caressing her smooth, shapely calves. She pulled her arms through the sleeves, shrugging the suit up onto her shoulders, and began lacing up the front. She had had more fun in this suit than simply committing burglaries. The way it laced up, from just above her crotch up to the fullest point of her bust, was enough to get her noticed anywhere she wanted to be. As easy as it was to move in, it was even easier to get out of—a fact that many a lover had appreciated—and it showed off her form better than if she were nude, playing up every curve in soft leather. She sat lightly on the edge of the bed as she pulled on a pair of short black suede boots with soft soles. Unlike the thigh-high hardened leather boots that comprised her normal footwear of choice, these boots were small and understated, more slippers than proper shoes. They might appear unimpressive, but they were undoubtedly the best choice for sneaking in somewhere without being heard. Returning to the wardrobe, she retrieved the last few pieces of equipment she expected to need. She fastened a harness across her chest that was also made of black soft-tooled leather, holding a pair of closely-fitted spaulders to her shoulders and a padded leather scale gorget covering her chest. Aranda enjoyed flaunting her figure as much as the next gorgeous cat burglar, but she was also smart enough to know the places that needed protecting from undesirable pointy things. Finally, she cinched on two belts: one at her waist, containing her lock picks, grease, charcoal smudges, and other various infiltration tools and pouches; the other, her trusty sword belt slung lower about her hips. As a finishing touch, she pulled her still-damp hair back into a long, loose braid, allowing a few wisps and curls of her silky raven locks to fall free and accentuate the softened points of her half-elven ears. She caught a glimpse of her profile in the ornate rosewood cheval that stood in the corner of the dressing chamber and grinned coolly. She was ready. She kept to the shadows as she slipped out of her chamber. Aranda expected it was likely she could stride around the estate in whatever she pleased and none of the house guard would so much as raise an eyebrow, but she amused herself by making a game of it. She kept a tally of how many people—guards, servants, members of the baron's family—walked past utterly blind to her presence as she stood silently in dark corners. I may be off my game, she thought, but I'm still damn good. In this slow and methodical manner, she made her way across the ground level of the estate, passing room after room of life playing out, oblivious to her silent passage. As she made her way to the stairs leading to the cellar, where the barony vault would no doubt be, she came across the large sparring room of the house guard and within it, a familiar figure. She stopped in the darkened doorway and watched as Therin proceeded to beat the un-living hell out of one of the room's many pell dummies. At the rate he was going, the thing would be little more than sawdust in a matter of minutes. He appeared to have been at it a while; his shirt was off, tossed haphazardly into a corner, and he had worked up a sheen of perspiration that made his naked upper body shine with his every movement. She couldn't help admiring how his muscles rippled as he spun into another attack against his wooden, straw-stuffed nemesis, whirling the twin bastard swords with speed and ease, as if they were nothing but a couple of birch-light training poles. He moved so swiftly and gracefully, Aranda nearly believed she was watching a dancer rather than a seasoned warrior. I suppose the elven blood is to thank for that. What I wouldn't give to move with such easy grace... With a primal snarl he launched himself into another airborne spin, bringing his full force to bear on the right sword as he completed the turn. The dummy's head fell off a split second after the sword passed and rolled slowly away without protest to rest in a corner. Therin landed, panting, in front of his now headless foe and drove his left-hand sword into the dummy's chest, signaling the conclusion of their match. He retreated a few paces to a nearby bench, sat down heavily, and began running a whetstone across his remaining blade as he caught his breath. As she watched from her shadowy sanctuary, the thought occurred to Aranda that she might be able to use some muscle on this job, just in case things went pear-shaped. It would also be a good excuse to be alone with the warrior, affording an opportunity to finally confront him about what had happened—or, to be more precise, what hadn't happened— between them on that fateful night two weeks prior. Things had been awkward between them since the night she had so carefully engineered to take advantage of him, and then lost her chance. She didn't doubt he knew her intentions—she had made them abundantly clear—and yet he remained withdrawn. The day they had left Bealach Sídhe bound for the Tuath barony things had been all business between them, and it had continued that way through the entirety of the assignment. Their usual banter had dried up, and he declined even to spar with her. It was obvious Therin was going out of his way to avoid being around her. What surprised Aranda the most, though, was how much of the awkwardness between them was coming from her. Ordinarily she would not let a setback like this affect her daily life, but Therin seemed to defy her normally effortless ability to compartmentalize. He was closed off from her entirely now, and instead of pushing her way through and acting as though nothing had happened, as she normally would have done, Aranda had become withdrawn herself. She frowned in annoyance and quickly came to a decision, pushing off of the alcove wall which she had been leaning on with a huff. I'm sick of this limbo. Time to put a stop to it here and now, she silently declared as she made her way purposefully into the sparring room. She strode over and yanked out the sword Therin had left impaling the dummy without breaking stride. He looked up with momentary alarm as he registered someone entering the room, which slowly turned to look of confusion as he watched her. "Uh-oh," she called to him as she brandished the large sword above her head, "looks like you lost a sword! You really should be more careful where you leave these things lying about!" "Aranda," he sighed, his voice lacking any trace of humor, "I fight with two swords. I'm far less effective if I have only one. Now—" "Sorry, this discarded sword is mine now. You know how thieves are, we just can't help ourselves when an opportunity like that presents. But I'll tell you what... I've got a little chore to do and you could really be very helpful to me. You help me out, I'll repay you by giving you a nice, shiny sword, like this one." Without waiting for a response, she strode out of the door on the far side of the room. Gods this thing is heavy! she mused as she secured the pilfered sword onto her belt with a leather thong. How does he manage to move so easily with two of these damned things?! A moment later, as she reclined against the doorway that led to the cellar staircase as coolly as she could manage, she heard his footfalls coming toward her. He entered the room, loose linen shirt now on and chestnut hair tied back in a loose horsetail, a lopsided sword belt around his waist. He raised his arms in an exasperated shrug. "It would appear I am at your disposal. But might I request an advance on my payment?" He motioned to his sword which hung awkwardly on her belt. "That is just weighing you down, and I'm precious little good to you with just the one." Aranda considered this, narrowing her eyes at him as she thought. "Alright," she agreed after a moment. "But don't go trying to bail on me after I give it to you. I do like you, but I can also reach your hamstrings before you even finish turning your back if you try." "I wouldn't dream of it," he said, furrowing his brow in a look of exaggerated severity. Was it her imagination, or did she actually see him suppressing a smile? Why was he trying to make what should have been a light exchange into such a serious ordeal? Shaking her head, Aranda untied the knots with which the bastard sword clung desperately to her light belt. The intrusive weight removed, she stretched and rolled her hips, redistributing the weight of the rest of her equipment. As she handed the sword back to him, she noticed his eyes lingering on those rolling hips. He blinked rapidly and cleared his throat as he gripped the proffered pommel. So, she thought, not as stony as you would have me think... "If all goes well tonight, all you'll have to do is stand there and look pretty," she told Therin as she turned and crouched, examining the lock on the door to the cellar. "And if all doesn't go well?" "If it doesn't go well... just remember you carry two swords for a reason." Aranda let out a short laugh and rose, pushing the door inward to reveal a steep flight of stairs spiralling down into darkness. She shook her head in amazement. "Not even locked," she said with a glance over her shoulder. "It's a wonder they even asked for a thief for the job when any common chambermaid could have pulled this off." "Does that mean that you're overqualified for this job, or that you moonlight emptying chamber pots?" Therin asked, crossing his arms across his chest and cocking an eyebrow. "It means," she said, flashing a wicked smile, "that this will be the easiest payday I'll have had all year. Let's go. And remember, if we get caught, it'll probably be your fault, so for both our sakes do try to be quiet." Therin glowered but said nothing. With Aranda in the lead, the two made their way down the stairs into murky darkness. They descended in near total darkness, the only source of light a faint blue aura emanating from a small glowstone Aranda held in her left hand; in her right, she held her dagger unsheathed and ready at her side. Therin followed closely behind, trying to recall the several lessons Aranda had given him on how to move his feet and hold his posture so that his sound was minimized. He thought he was doing a decent job of it, too, until Aranda glanced over her shoulder with an annoyed glare. "What did I tell you about shuffling your toes?" she scolded in a whisper. "Sorry," he replied in an exasperated whisper, "it's how I move them when I fight. After a hundred years or so it gets to be a habit." Aranda pointedly rolled her eyes and let out a sigh of her own. "It would be nice to get out of this without raising the alarm and having the baron's nice metal golem rend us limb from limb, wouldn't you agree?" "Oh yes, that's exactly what I had intended the goal of my night to be." "Then pick up your bloody feet!" she hissed. As they descended, they passed small niches set into the walls of the stairwell at close, regular intervals, some with half-burned candles still sitting within them. Obviously the place had the potential to be far more hospitable when the baron so desired. After several minutes of (nearly) silent traversal they finally arrived at the base of the stairs at the head of a long, wide hallway with corridors winding away on either side. The cellar was paved with fine tiles, each precisely cut and placed to form an opulent abstract mosaic pattern. The stones comprising the walls and ceiling were pristine white travertine. Hanging from the ceiling were elegant chandeliers of crystal which glinted faintly in the glowstone's soft blue light. To call this place a cellar would be akin to calling a king's palace a stone house. "This is no cellar," Aranda breathed in awe, "it's a treasury!" "What difference does it make what you call the place you're robbing?" "Don't you mean the place we're robbing? And anyway, it means that our payday just increased. Exponentially." "Look, I'm all for giving myself a bonus, but perhaps we should avoid robbing blind the man who is still actually paying us in the first place?" Aranda laughed quietly. "I'm not suggesting we clean him out—as you just pointed out, he is still paying us—but I can leverage this with the Hand for at least double what he was originally offering to pay. It doesn't matter how difficult, or easy, for that matter, it was for us to make our way in here. On the whole, most people who keep things in treasuries have more, ah, challenging security measures in place, which make them far harder to infiltrate. It's not our fault that our favorite country baron is the exception to that rule, but it's an exception the Hand has no need to know about, either." Rogue and Rake Ch. 01 "You sure ripping off the Fivers is really a good idea?" "Since when were good ideas ever this profitable? Now, less talking and more searching for what we came here for." Aranda crept forward to the first of several cross-shaped intersections and glanced first down the left passage, then the right, trying to discern any promising features in either direction. Unfortunately they proved to be uniform corridors which both ended in a ninety-degree corner leading farther inward, away from the staircase. They also both had several doors along their visible length before said corner. Considering this information, as well as there being four such intersections along the just central hallway alone, Aranda did the math and quickly came to the conclusion that they were up a creek, with no paddle in sight. This was going to take far longer than she had anticipated. The job tender from the Hand hadn't provided any practical details of where the item would be or how to locate it, just that its repossession had been commissioned and that the guild would pay handsomely for it. At the time, this seemed perfectly reasonable; but at the time, she had simply assumed that this country estate was not in possession of a treasury the size of which would put several palace vaults she knew of to shame. "By the looks of things, we might be in for a long night down here," she said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "We'd better get started, and cover as much ground in as short a time as we can manage. I don't fancy being caught dawdling around down here if one of the house guard happens to make his way down as a part of his rounds." Therin nodded his agreement and kept a close pace as Aranda quickly made her way down the first right-hand hallway branch. In the dim blue light of the glowstone, she caught his gaze lingering more often on her than keeping watch of their surroundings. A familiar warmth began to burn in her core, and she felt herself growing wet each time she noticed his gaze upon her. Whenever he realized he had been seen, however, Therin quickly shook his head and directed his eyes elsewhere, seemingly intent on detecting potential dangers that lurked in the darkness. The two continued to make their way through the subterranean corridors in a methodical, grid-like search pattern. At each door Aranda would pause, listen for any signs of movement within, and ease the door open to peer inside. Every room was dark and uninhabited, except by mounds of long-forgotten flotsam and jetsam. One room they came across seemed entirely dedicated to housing empty brandy bottles; another, poorly-embroidered hunting tapestries. Several housed old suits of armor and great weapons long gone to rust, and yet others appeared to be mere storerooms for excess household and pantry items. For this being a treasury, everything they came across seemed infuriatingly worthless. It was as Aranda was making a quick visual inventory of one of the storerooms that she heard a sharp intake of breath behind her. She immediately glanced to Therin in alarm, her eyebrows raised in an expression which clearly asked, 'What's happening? Something we should be concerned over?' Therin leaned in, his lips nearly touching her ear, and breathed, "Footsteps. Just hit the bottom of the stairs." Aranda thought that he lingered at her ear a little overlong, but didn't mind; the feeling of his warm breath against her cool skin was delicious. But they had no time to dally. They were not even halfway through their circuit of the treasury, and still had not found what they had come in search of. As Therin shifted back to allow her out of the doorway, he began drawing his twin bastard swords from their scabbards. Aranda quickly put a hand on his forearm to stay the motion, shaking her head no vigorously. "Don't," she mouthed silently, trusting him to read her lips. "We can't afford to raise an alarm. We still need the ledger." She heard the footsteps now too, striding purposefully down the center corridor. They were not hurried to suggest that they had been detected, but it was not a leisurely pace, either. She dropped the glowstone into a pouch, stifling the dim light, and glanced around hurriedly, assessing their options. Time's up. ****** It was Alden's first day on the job. He and his family had lived on the barony manse his entire life. His parents had both worked in the baron's service until their passing several years before, and now that he was of age, Alden was thrilled to be able to serve his Lordship as a member of his house guard. Alden's orders had been to make several supply deliveries to various members of the household staff, followed by monitoring the estate's perimeter until sunrise. Although the cellar had not been on his outlined patrol route, he was a conscientious young man and wanted to prove his devotion of service to his lordship by going beyond what had been explicitly requested of him. As he reached the bottom of the cellar stairs, he took in the grand sight his torch revealed. He smiled and strode down the central hallway with the confidence and deliberateness only ever seen in young men recently assigned a rank. Reaching the middle intersection, he turned and strode down the right-hand branch. Honestly, he was being silly. No one had been down here for at least a week, when the cook had reported she was short on flour and needed another bag brought up to her pantry. Alden shook his head, silently reprimanding himself for not taking his rounds as seriously as he knew he should. He sighed and turned the next corner, hoping to complete his route and make it back abovegrounds to the manor's courtyard while the moon was still high, so that he could admire the view of the countryside from his assigned turret post. ****** Aranda held one hand up toward Therin, signaling for him to stay quiet, as she pressed her ear to the door, eyes closed in concentration. The footfalls continued in their stride, unbroken, and soon faded into the distance. Aranda began to relax, relieved they had not been detected. Then she felt his presence behind her. Her breath caught in her throat, stifling a gasp as she felt a breath on the back of her neck. Her mind was a jumble of conflicting thoughts and emotions as she spun to face him, resting her back against the door. He stood mere inches behind her. Their eyes met and Aranda, her expression questioning, could not tear her gaze from his. A complete reversal from the looks she had received from him over the past week, now his expression was certain. And urgent. "Wh—” She didn't get the full word out before he closed the distance between them and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Before she could collect herself to react to what was happening, Aranda found herself returning his kiss, equally as urgent. They could work out the details later. Right now, she much didn't care what Therin's motives were—if he even had motives—her only concern was that he was touching her, and it was wonderful. She threw her arms around his neck and tangled both hands in hair, pulling it free of the horsetail. As she did, Therin grasped her waist, pulling her to him. She could feel his hardness as he ground his hips against her, and all other thoughts were chased from her mind, leaving only her desire. Aranda released one hand from its grip and reached behind her, throwing the bolt on the door closed in a final moment of lucidity, locking them in so that they would not be interrupted. She would not squander the opportunity a second time. They continued their kiss, Therin unrelenting in his need and Aranda reciprocating in turn. She flicked her tongue lightly across his upper lip, causing him to capture her lower lip with his teeth, nipping gently. Hardly allowing the opportunity to breathe, they remained locked together, tongues exploring and intertwining. After what felt like an eternity he broke the kiss, moving his mouth down to kiss along her jaw and down the side of her neck. Every so often he would nip her skin lightly, eliciting a shudder of pleasure and a nearly inaudible gasp. When his lips arrived at the top of the gorget he began to unbuckle the harness, wordlessly daring her to object. She didn't. Once unbuckled, he removed the gorget and spaulder harness with one hand, tossing it to a disused corner, while the other immediately began unfastening her belts. Aranda simply stood there, arms hanging limp at her sides after having the spaulders pulled off, as Therin moved on to kiss her collarbone. As her sword belt fell away, she experienced a momentary flash of panic as she realized she was completely weaponless. The thought was quickly pushed from her mind when his hands grasped the cord of her bodysuit and began to undo its lacing. He untied the top, allowing the suit stretched tightly across her breasts to fall open, but then moved his hands away. He took a moment to enjoy her body while she still wore the sensual suit, running his hands along the smooth suede and caressing the curve of her hip where leg became ass. A very nice ass. It was the first intelligible thought to surface in his mind since he had kissed her. His actions thus far may have felt like simple passion to Aranda, but Therin recognized the uncontrollable urge rising within himself, the dire need. He knew the feeling well; she brought it out in him easier than he liked to admit. He only hoped that satisfying his lust for her could quell the other, darker desires. His hands moved rapidly then, raising back to the lacing at her breast. He pulled the leather thong roughly out from its eyelets, and soon the garment stood completely open from breast to groin, falling down one shoulder and exposing her breast. Therin paused, and rather than pushing the suit off, he instead guided her hands from where they hung limply at her sides to unfasten his own belt, reminding her of the steps that needed to be taken before they could have one another. With this prompting her fingers began to work again, nimble and efficient, functioning more from muscle memory than from conscious thought. They deftly unbuckled his sword belt and, careful to not let the blades clatter on the stone floor, she turned and gently lowered it onto a pile of sacking. As she rose, she felt the suede slip from her other shoulder. Both breasts now fully exposed, she shrugged her arms completely free of her sleeves. Aranda stood before him, naked from the waist up, nipples raised and hard from her arousal as much as from the cool air. She returned to her task, pulling his shirt off over his head, and took a moment to savor the feeling of running her hands over the bared flesh of Therin's chest. It was even better than she had imagined it to be. His skin was lightly tanned and marked by haphazard pale slashes of not a few scars. The muscles of his chest and arms were hard and supple at the same time, confirming her earlier appraisal of a dancer's physique. Reluctantly Aranda moved on from her caress, trailing her hands downward to allow her nimble fingers to undo the cord on his trousers. As they fell to the floor, she felt him move the hand which rested on her hip up her bare side to cup her breast, rubbing his thumb across the hardened nipple. The feeling of it nearly caused her to collapse. His hands were rough, calloused, and perfect as they continued to explore her body. She pressed her hips against his as she returned another kiss, letting her desire be known. With a low moan he gently pushed her back, giving himself space to step out of his smallclothes. He stood before her, completely naked and as hard as she had ever seen a man. She bit her lower lip in a lustful smile as she took in the sight of him. Finally their eyes met again, and her expression made it exceedingly clear that she approved. He moved back to her, but did not draw her to him. Instead, he rested a hand on either of her hips, caressing the sides of her body for a moment before, in one lightning fast movement, he gripped her bodysuit where it hung at her waist and yanked it forcefully to the floor. Unlike him, she wore no smallclothes; they broke up the lines of her suit. She lithely stepped out of the garment, pushing her boots off with her feet. As Therin's eyes roamed over her now equally naked form, she saw his erection pulse and grow even larger. For such a long time she had desired nothing more than to feel his touch; now she felt she could simply stare at him forever and need nothing else. As Therin closed the gap between them, he proved her wrong. He took her in another passionate kiss, pressing his hard cock against her stomach. He was so hard it was almost painful. Aranda shifted slightly, repositioning him so that his cock now extended between her legs, the length of his sex resting along hers. She was so wet now that he glided virtually frictionless across her slit, not trying to enter her, just enjoying the feeling. They both held their breath in unspoken anticipation; not a single muscle moved as their passion built. The only hint of motion between them was the twitch of his cockhead against her swollen clit, blood boiling within his straining member. Aranda broke first. As Therin's cock slid along her burning sex, she raised one leg and wrapped it around his waist, pulling them tight together. He took her cue and lifted her, holding her waist, which allowed her to wrap both legs around him, her arms around his neck. As he did so, he slid inside her. It was such a simple act after so many weeks of buildup; more accidental than forceful or deliberate. Even still, the feeling was like an electric shock coursing through them, causing both to gasp in unison. Those quiet gasps broke their spell of hesitation and spurred them into fervent motion. Therin shifted Aranda's slight weight in his arms, allowing her to lean back, and began driving into her in earnest. His need to satisfy his uncontrollable urges, coupled with the intense pleasure of her body, ignited a raging storm within him. Through the haze of lust and desire, Aranda somehow registered that their lives likely still depended on not being discovered and managed to cry out only in small, quiet gasps instead of the screams that reverberated through every fiber of her body. The only sounds in the room were flesh slapping against flesh and their ragged breathing. "You're far too quiet for what we're doing," Therin growled with uncharacteristic intensity as he moved one hand from her waist to squeeze her breast, pinching the nipple. "I bet I can make you scream." He continued to kiss her savagely, moving his mouth down to where he held her breast, and thrust into her with increased force and speed. But Aranda needed more. She bit his earlobe and breathed, "Wait." "I've waited long enough," he panted, punctuating each word by driving hard into her. She moaned and laughed at the same time, an odd sound. "Just for a moment; I have an idea." Reluctantly, Therin allowed her to dismount. It had been mere moments, but Aranda found her legs already unsteady. Was it the exertion, the thrill, or both? She moved as seductively as her trembling muscles would allow, making her way to a pile of empty flour sacks in a corner of the room. Therin followed a few paces behind, intrigued by what she could have in mind. She turned to face him and slowly knelt on the sacking as he approached, unconsciously grateful for the padding against the hard tile floor. This was proving to be a far more comfortable situation than many she had previously found herself in. Therin came forward, erect manhood leading the way, bobbing slightly with every step. His engorged member glistened in the low light, still wet with her juices and his own precum. He stopped directly in front of her. Before he could inquire as to what she intended, she rose from where she rested on her haunches and took him into her mouth. I've wondered what that beautiful mouth was capable of. It appears now I'll— rational thought fled him momentarily as her ministrations elicited a moan from deep within him. His cock was large—granted, not the single most massive specimen she had ever encountered in her considerable experience, but certainly enough that it took her a moment before she could accommodate his full length. She focused on relaxing the muscles in her throat as her tongue played over the length of his shaft, her lips providing a soft suction at the base. The heady aromas of dried sweat from his sparring earlier that evening, fresh perspiration from their frantic lovemaking, and his bodily musk made Aranda's desire increase with every breath. As she felt his hand on the back of her head, twining into her hair, her pace quickened. Her whole upper body rocked away and back toward him again, his length gliding out of her mouth so that only the head remained captured by her lips, then back in so that her nose was pressed against his groin. She did not relent until she felt his balance waiver and he had to place his other hand against her shoulder to keep from collapsing. She felt his cock begin to twitch and pulse in her mouth. Though they had never been physical before, she had had enough lovers to recognize when a climax was mounting. She pulled away one last time, his swollen tip escaping her mouth with a final pop. Therin's eyes had a glaze over them, and she knew with satisfaction that he was a million miles away. Aranda leaned toward him again and, pursing her lips, gently blew on his member. The concentrated stream of cool air caused it to jump and twitch again, but it gradually calmed as she watched his eyes refocus. He gazed down at her, his desire clear. In that instant, staring up at him, she was transported back to that singular fantasy she had had in the Bealach Sídhe inn. A thrill coursed through her. Her pussy was soaked, swollen, and throbbing. She needed him more than ever, and could finally have the object she most desired. She shifted position so that she was on her hands and knees, facing away from him. Over her shoulder, with a look of desire that mirrored his own, she said in a husky whisper, "Have your way with me. And don't be gentle." Therin wasted no time, dropping to his knees behind her and grabbing her smooth hips with his rough hands. Then he was in her, full to the hilt. In his first rapid thrust he drove his entire length into her waiting slit, meeting almost no resistance. True to his word, he made her scream. He drove into her hard, over and over again. After only moments he began to lose all semblance of control. He started to feel the pull of that familiar spiral that always eventually drove him into a rage in combat, tendrils of blackness creeping across his vision. No, he managed to register, this is different... somehow... With every thrust, Aranda's moans drifted into what remained of his consciousness. They came faster now, and faster still, until she cried out, "Oh gods yes! Gods! Please... don't stop! Make me cum!" He felt her muscles quiver around him, go still, and then convulse madly. She moaned unintelligible sounds of ecstasy as her entire body shuddered in orgasm. Therin did not—could not—relent even as she came, continuing to drive into her at a merciless pace. Every time it appeared her orgasm was subsiding, she began to spasm again. She nearly begged him to stop; she felt as though she was being ripped apart, but it was so good. Finally the sensations became too much, and he felt his own orgasm welling up inside. He spiraled faster and faster, blackness overtaking his vision almost completely. But instead of losing himself in the dark abyss, the world erupted in blinding light. He collapsed forward onto Aranda's back in convulsions of his own, driving deep into her as his cock erupted over and over again. At his prompting, her body responded with another, albeit more subdued, climax of her own. His mind reeled, but this was nothing akin to the dark rages which the herbs brought on. This was something far better. Rogue and Rake Ch. 01 Aranda and Therin collapsed together, thoroughly spent, onto the soft mound of flour sacks. He fell asleep still inside her. It was the first time he had slept in months. ****** Aranda was first to wake. For a moment, she had no idea where she was. Her first impression was that she was back in the Fivers' warehouse, behind another water barrel. But this was softer. And warmer. She opened her eyes and glanced around, taking in her surroundings with sleep-blurred eyes. A pantry? Stock room? And there was someone beside her... Oooooh, she mused, the realization dawning. Their encounter came flooding back in a rapid-fire sequence of images that could have made a courtesan blush. Slowly, so as not to disturb her sleeping companion, she shifted her weight, turning to nestle up against his chest. Her head rose and fell with his deep, rhythmic breathing as she reveled in the warmth of his bare skin against hers. So it would seem my perfect record remains intact, she thought contentedly as she snuggled closer. A few moments passed and Therin began to stir. He came out of sleep slowly, a stranger to the process of waking. Aranda raised herself up on one elbow and watched him. He gazed at her blearily and blinked sleep from his eyes. Then he gave her the goofiest grin she had ever seen. She laughed seeing his expression and bent to kiss him. Wordlessly, he pulled her atop him again. Aranda straddled his waist as she felt his hardness return. After a few moments of kissing and exploring one another's bodies with their hands, Therin's cock was fully erect once more and she shifted to allow him to enter her. Though she was thoroughly impaled, they made love slowly, the desperate urgency of their previous coupling having evaporated. She rocked forward and back atop him in smooth, gliding motions as her hands continued to play across his skin. Her fingers ran lightly along his collarbone and shoulders, then down his chest where they traced along the faded patterns of his scars. Therin gasped whenever Aranda's fingers brushed against one of his nipples, and every time he did she would give his earlobe a slight nip, eliciting an even louder gasp. She relished the sound. As they continued their lovemaking, Aranda felt Therin's cock grow ever harder and begin to throb, indicating he was close to climax. Abruptly, Therin caught her hips in his hands, staying her motion. Lifting her from him, he laid her down in the spot he had been as he rose to his knees. He slowly trailed his hands down either side of her body until they rested on her knees, which he gently parted as he moved between her legs. He kissed her right knee, then the inside of her leg and slowly up her thigh, as if laying a trail with buried treasure waiting at the end. In a sense, he supposed there was. With one hand he began to lightly massage her swollen clit, and she moaned her approval. Smiling at her reaction, Therin used two fingers to part her labia, now slick with a combination of both of their juices, and flicked his tongue once over her clit. All pretense of stealth was lost as Aranda cried out in pleasure. Therin moaned in response as his tongue returned to play over her slit, relishing their combined taste on her. His ministrations sped up, becoming almost frantic as he licked, sucked, and prodded her eager sex, and Aranda's body responded by bucking her hips against Therin's face. He moaned again, a feral sound deep in his throat, as he sucked hard on her clit, the added vibrations driving her wild. Aranda reached down and gripped the back of his head, pulling him close to her and urging him to bring her to climax. But Therin wanted to be inside her when she came. He sat up and moved his body atop hers, kissing her hard so that he was sure she tasted her juices on him. That thought alone caused his already engorged member to throb, a drop of precum to forming and smearing across her stomach where his cock was pressed tightly between them. Resting back on his haunches, Therin took her ankles and placed one of her feet on either of his shoulders, forcing Aranda to curl her body as he leaned into her, exposing her eager slit to him. He drove deep into her in a single swift motion and they both gasped at the sensation of his penetration. Reaching far deeper than before, Therin drove into her in earnest, knowing his cock stimulated her g-spot with every stroke. Neither of them could last for long in such an overwhelming state, and Aranda felt the climax crash into her as Therin's own orgasm began. He thrust hard and deep into her as he felt his control waiver and she began to spasm around him. Therin's vision was again invaded by those black roiling tendrils, but they were not all-consuming as it had been the first time; more foggy than blinding. They both cried out in oaths of ecstasy as the orgasms washed over them, until finally their movements slowed and Therin lowered himself to lay beside her once more, utterly spent. They both drifted off into a light sleep again, waking several minutes later in much the same position as before, with Therin on his back and Aranda curled up against him, using one of his shoulders as a pillow. "I've no idea how long we've been here," Aranda mused from her beside him. "It could be years for all I care." "I sense a 'but' coming..." Therin said, opening one eye to appraise her own expression. "But," she continued reluctantly, "we still don't have what we came for." "Oh, I wouldn't be so sure," Therin chuckled, lightly kissing her forehead. She punched his side playfully and laughed. "We will have to leave this room eventually, you know. Immediate thieving aside, I'm actually famished!" "Sessions of fervent lovemaking does tend to do that to a person. And we've had two now. Unless you'd care to make it three...?" He arched a questioning eyebrow as he slid a hand around her waist, beginning to pull her to him again. Before he could complete the action she rose, first to her knees and then to stand. The air away from their little burlap nest was chill and she began to shiver, her skin breaking out in gooseflesh. Crossing her arms over her breasts to ward against the cold, she made her way to the other side of the room, near the door, where their garments lay in a heap. She bent and stepped into the legs of her bodysuit, tossing Therin his smallclothes and trews as she rose. "Put those on before I change my mind," she said with a wink. They proceeded to dress without too much distraction and attempted to make themselves look as descent as possible, considering their circumstances. Aranda ran her hands through her wildly tangled hair. There would be no getting it back into a braid at present, so she settled for a low-set horsetail as Therin was doing with his own tousled locks. Once they were both situated, Aranda moved to the door and silently slid the bolt back to unlock it. Before she could open the door, Therin stepped forward and pulled her into a final kiss. If it had been up to her, Aranda would have been content staying in that very room another night, another week, another year, continuing to do precisely what they had been doing all evening. But she could no longer ignore the real world intruding, and the ledger still waited. Status boost with the Fivers. A personal favor owed by the Hand. Big payday. She had to repeat the phrase several times, chanting it like a mantra to convince herself to open the door. Aranda cracked the door just wide enough to stick her head out. She peered left, then right; finally, with a deep breath, they plunged into the darkness of the hallway. As the fates would have it, they found the ledger in the very last room of the treasury labyrinth. There, amidst massive shelves overflowing with moldering tomes and parchments, they found the volume they had come for. It was far smaller than Aranda had expected, given the large payout the guild was offering. All told, it was about the size of her hand and no more than 20 sheets thick, bound in a soft leather cover. It slipped easily into one of the large pouches on her belt. She smiled as she turned back to the door, and to Therin. "Well, it took a little longer than I had expected, but we've got our target." She said with a grin. "Now how about we get out of here before we get caught and stop tempting fate?" They made their way easily back along the main corridor. It was a far quicker journey now that they were no longer going room to room. A moment more spent traversing the dark, winding staircase, and they arrived back at the door that led onto the estate's ground floor, the same door that they had entered from just outside the sparring room. Aranda gave a quick listen to ensure no one was present in the hallway, and, hearing nothing, she opened the door and they exited the cellar. She was surprised to see the windows in the sparring room still shone with silvery moonlight. Surely they had been gone longer than a few short hours? It had seemed a blissful eternity down in that room. They made their way quickly away from the door into the main hall and on to the living quarters. It was not until she reached the door to her chambers that Aranda realized Therin was not with her. She glanced up and down the hall but saw no sign of him. After a moment's pause, she slipped into the room, feeling far too conspicuous in her burgling attire to go traipsing through the manor in search of him. Quickly shrugging out of the suit, she donned a pair of nondescript tan trousers and a loose white fencing shirt, cinching a plain belt around her waist. The ledger she tucked into a hidden pocket sewn into the lining of her rucksack. She quickly ran a comb through her disheveled hair and emerged into the hall once more, the irritation at being suddenly abandoned mounting rapidly within her. If anything, she reasoned, he'd likely be back in the sparring room. She strode quickly down the hall, only to find the room deserted. Everywhere she could think to look turned up nothing. So this is how it's going to be? she wondered bitterly. One night's fling to get it out of his system, and we're supposed to simply go back to status quo? Gods knew she had loved and left her fair share of companions, but they had all been anonymous strangers. This was different. She and Therin were partners and would have to see each other again, likely working together for some time yet. Resigned, Aranda finally decided to return to her quarters; at least there she could brood in peace. Making her way down the residences corridor once again, she paused as she heard muffled sounds coming from one of the of chamber suites. Curious, she crept into the common room and the sounds became more discernable. Water sloshing and splashing. A sharp intake of breath. Muttered oaths... in Elvish? She followed the direction of the sounds, quietly pushing open a door to reveal a room of shared baths. In the far corner she saw Therin, naked but for a plush white towel draped over one shoulder, attempting to lower himself into a bathing basin large enough for perhaps a dozen people sunk into the floor. Apparently, he had made the water too hot. He withdrew his foot rapidly with another hiss as steam curled up from the bath. "The lever on the opposite side of the basin is for unheated water," she called as she entered the room, amusement playing across her face. "What are you doing?" Therin glanced up in surprise and was annoyed to feel a slight blush rise to his cheeks. "Unheated. Yes, that would probably be appropriate. I know your penchant for bathing and thought..." he shook his head, embarrassed. "I thought you might appreciate the same of me." Aranda couldn't help smiling at the odd sweetness of the sentiment as she moved toward the lever that would pump in unheated water from the manor's cistern. After a few moments she closed the pump and secured the lever, mixing the water in the basin with one bare foot to distribute the temperature. She was surprised to find the water smelled of lavender. "I don't have a 'penchant' for baths," she told him, looking up and cocking an eyebrow. "It's half of every sentiment you express when we're on the road. And I thought the elves in the Fhiáine were obsessed with fastidiousness." "Well perhaps it's a reflection of my human blood then," she quipped. "At any rate, I enjoy baths. They feel good. And make me smell good. Is that such a bad thing?" "Not at all," he smiled. "I've come to find it rather endearing." He dropped the towel at the edge of the basin and lowered himself into the finally comfortable water. "I can certainly see the appeal," he sighed as he settled against the side. "What it lacks in practicality it certainly makes up in comfort." "You'll smell like you belong the baron's garden by the time you're done in there," she teased, squatting down on her haunches and flicking water at him. "You know, you don't smell much like a rose yourself," he said, gazing up at her. Then, with a wicked glint in his eye he asked, "Why don't you join me?" "These are shared baths," she pointed out. "Then draw the curtain." He nodded to a bundle of scarlet brocade gathered against the wall. The fabric hung from the ceiling, and Aranda saw there was indeed a subtle inlaid track that could be used to partition the separate bathing basins. With her eyes fixed on Therin, she first drew the curtain, then quickly shed her clothes. Lowering herself into the basin, she luxuriated in the feeling of being caressed by the silky warm water, inhaling the rich fragrance of the lavender oil. It wasn't long before she felt Therin's hand on her waist, preceded by soft ripples of water lapping against her skin. He drew her onto his lap, straddling his rapidly growing erection. For the third time that evening they made love. It was the first time Aranda had fucked underwater. She had heard from several acquaintances—particularly those aboard ships in her seafaring days—that it was an experience unlike any other. The way they moved frictionless against each other, how they seemed to glide, weightless, in the warm water while still clutched to one another, was unparalleled in her experience. The sex was not hard or fast, but it was the most sensual she had ever had. Finally, as the water grew cool around them, they agreed to move to Therin's quarters. Therin left first—noticing the multitude of water puddles they had caused around the basin with some amusement— and Aranda followed a few minutes after so as to make their appearance slightly less conspicuous. They lay side by side in Therin's bed, both gazing up toward the ceiling but neither actually seeing it. Eventually Aranda found her way back from being lost in her own thoughts. "So where does all of this leave us?" she asked reluctantly, propping herself up to look at Therin. "I don't want to just go back to the way things were before." "I don't think I could, even if I wanted to," he replied. He raised himself up to look at her, allowing his eyes to roam over the form of her naked body set before him, before finally returning his gaze to her face. He studied her features and read the trepidation in his lover's eyes. That's precisely what she is, he realized. A lover. Not a courtesan or a fling or an amusement. Something more; a lover. Though he was no stranger to physical pleasures, he had had very few relations with people he could qualify as "lovers" over the course of his life. "You stir something within me," he told her, raising a hand to caress the side of her face. "I've noticed," she grinned, arching her eyebrows in a comically suggestive expression. "Yes, that," he chuckled, "but something more. I'm not even precisely sure what it is yet; all I know is that I need this—us—right now." His tone grew serious, eyes pinching in concern at the corners. "I make no promises for life in the long run, but for the present, I can say with unwavering certainty that I need you." I need you to be my new drug, he thought, but left unsaid. That was a conversation for another day. Right now, he allowed himself to be content with this newfound companionship. Aranda broke into a sly smile. "I'm not exactly what you would call a 'long run' type of girl. But in the here and now, if every time is going to be like tonight, rest assured that I most certainly need you, too." He kissed her deeply then, and it was several minutes before they could resume their conversation. "About the others..." he started. "I see no reason to make a public announcement." "It may complicate things unnecessarily," Therin agreed. "And Galen will probably get grumpy. Well, grumpier than normal." They both laughed. "Are you still famished? I could go to the kitchen and probably convince the cook to give me at least some bread and cheese to bring back." "I think I'm more exhausted than hungry," Aranda said around a yawn. She arched her back in a languid stretch, causing her chest to thrust out, accentuating her breasts. "Would it be alright with you if I stayed? We'll not likely get another chance for a while." "How could I possibly deny that?" he asked, eyes lingering on her breasts even after the stretch was completed. Aranda stayed that night. And the next.