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It was a typical hot afternoon in the Ul’dahn marketplace. Merchants advertised their wares, children ran about the streets with high, pealing laughter, and the dancing girls were sweating in the heat of the desert sun so the men before they groveled at a chance to be showered in their essence.
Rumple Teazer watched them with keen supervision. It wasn’t uncommon for a ruffian or two to try and cop a feel of one of her girls and more often than not, she had to send Helpful Badger to set things straight. Unfortunately, Rumple was fond of her fair complexion, as were the clients she entertained, and with not a cloud in sight, she had to retire to the cool shadows of her estate.
As was the usual this time of day, her grand foyer was devoid of life. Large tropical plants decorated the walls, giving the illusion of some secret oasis complete with the sound of water flowing out of a fountain. Sunlight streamed through the lattice work above creating shadowed patterns upon the stone mural flooring. Her sandals whispered softly, the chiffon of her dress floating out behind her like some fairy-tale creature of beauty.
The door creaked behind her, laughter from outside spilling in with the men that had chosen midday to indulge in their wicked fantasies. Her ears flicked with mild interest and she welcomed them with a warm smile before directing them toward the lounge. No doubt her girls and boys were already ready for their arrival and eager to be chosen.
She disappeared through a hidden corridor, one only used by her and the select few clients she chose to bring into her personal living quarters, and relished in the sweet kiss of shadow.
Until she felt a knife pressed at her back.
“Ever the predictable one, aren’t you?” a voice whispered behind her. She could hear the curl on his lips and couldn’t help but feel her own respond in kind.
Slowly, she raised her hands and pressed her ears flat against her head, “What is it you want?” Rumple asked, her voice high and pleading. For good measure, she added just the right amount of tremble.
“You.” The knife pressed harder against her skin, not enough to break through, just enough to keep her compliant. He guided her this way, moving her through her personal quarters like he knew where every piece of furniture sat. She counted the paces until she felt her knees knock against the frame of her four poster bed.
He grabbed her arm and twisted her around so that she could better face him, but his face was still shrouded in shadow. The knife raised to her chin, the flat side of it tilting her head higher as if he were examining her closely. Her eyes closed as the cool press of metal dragged down her throat, the point resting against her jugular. The resulting shutter was completely involuntary as her life hung on the precipice of this “intruder’s” decision.
Did he dare nick her?
Her tail curled at the thought.
Unfortunately he didn’t, instead dragging the blade further down her neck until it reached one of the clasps keeping her dress in place. With an expert flick, he unhooked the wispy fabric and repeated the motion on the other side until the entire garment fell to the floor.
“You are wearing too many layers,” he growled, dissatisfied that she had chosen today of all days to wear one of her racier bits of lingerie. Rumple fought the urge to beam with pride for making him keep a steady pace. She was supposed to be the victim, the damsel in distress. Pride wasn’t a common emotion when one was at the tip of another’s blade.
“I-I’ll take it off,” she stuttered, her hands already reaching for the straps over her shoulders, but the sharp prick of the blade at her exposed collarbone halted any chance of doing so.
“Oh no. Let me.”
Rumple swallowed as the kiss of the blade moved down her sternum and across one breast. Her heart pounded, her legs quaked, and she felt desire throb down below as he continued his torturous pace. She could hear the scrape of metal against fabric and then a snap as he broke through the strap. It was impossible not to jump or make a sound even as he repeated the process on the other side.
Her mind was becoming increasingly numb, her body’s desire now overwhelming any wish to get away or stop the madness before more of her clothing was ruined. She didn’t want for it to end, didn’t want to miss the cold kiss of steel against her skin making her helpless.
That’s what she desired. Helplessness. How foreign a concept it was to her when she had been taught to take care of herself. This, the knife, the mysteriously familiar intruder, the darkness away from any and all forms of help...it was exactly what she needed.
Still unsatisfied that she was not bare enough, the Hyur focused his blade at the front of her corset. She winced as each button popped and scattered somewhere on the floor and squeezed her eyes tightly at the sound of ripping fabric.
Cool air kissed her bare chest once the corset had been successfully desecrated beyond repair. A groan of approval rewarded her, the intruder seemingly pleased at the sight of her breasts on full display in the dim lighting. She liked that he kept to the shadows, shrouding his face with them as if they were a mask while positioning her just so the light bounced off her skin.
Once again the blade returned, interrupting all thought as it circled slowly around one of her nipples. Immediately it perked, the feeling of cold steel tightening it despite the heat growing from within. She was panting, her chest heaving and eyes fluttering as she forced herself to remain as still as possible lest the man accidentally cut her.
She hated ruining her expensive Thavanarian rugs with blood.
A moment later and he had her pushed down upon the bed, the cool silk a contrast to the heat of her skin. Rumple moaned, her tail curling at the sensation as she stretched out. He couldn’t hide from her now, she noted. The thin stream of light coming through her window illuminated the ash blond hair and she caught a glimpse of playful hazel eyes before the drag of the stiletto brought fire to her skin. Down, down, down it trailed until it cleverly hooked under her panties and ruined them as well.
A good thing she had an entire dresser dedicated to that specific garment.
“Don’t tell me you like this,” he whispered somewhere from above. Lacking shame, Rumple gladly spread her legs to show him she did, in fact, like this.
The resulting curse made her grin.
His weight was soon removed from the bed and she could hear the rustling of clothes in the darkness. If she were truly in danger, Rumple could have used this moment to run for the exit, but instead she allowed her fingers to run down the length of her body and tease the dark thatch of curls nestled between her legs.
Again he cursed and she thought she heard him stumble and trip followed by a tense moment of complete and utter silence.
“Uh...I lost the knife…”
Rumple rolled her eyes and flicked her tail with mild annoyance. Things had been going so well…
“And here I thought rogues were wont never to part with their precious weapons,” she mused, voice breathy at the recent memory of him circling her breast. “Look, you’ve made me all wet with your little game. The least you could do is fuck me.”
“Well, I suppose I have another knife…”
Rumple stopped her meticulous stroking and sat up on her elbows to glare in his general direction. “Thancred, if that is your clever euphemism for your cock, it’s a wonder you have ever charmed a woman into your bed.”
He chuckled somewhere in the darkness before his hands shot out and pulled her ass to the edge of the mattress. “You’d be surprised, m’lady, just how many women love my other knife,” he said, kissing her inner thighs. “Almost as many that love my silver tongue.”
Rumple’s head tossed back as he thrust said tongue between her labia and drug it up to flick teasingly against her clitoris. Her legs shook at the sensation, her mind blank at just how quickly he had turned the tables and put her to his mercy. Twelve, the man had a tongue of a god, or a demon, or mayhap it was some devilish mixture of the two.
She fell back against the bed submitting to his delectable torture. It didn’t take long before she felt her climax break over her, and less time after for Thancred to kiss his way up her torso until his cock was nestled deep within her.
There was no talking while they fucked. No tender words, no praises. It was hot, sticky, dirty and sinful as their bodies pressed together and skin slapped against skin. Claws dug into his shoulders and his back, his teeth found the juncture where her neck met her shoulder. She moaned and keened and urged him on, matching him thrust for thrust.
He grew harder, his eyes more wild, and Rumple knew then and there he was nearly spent. Cleverly she snaked her tail around his thigh and let the fur tickle his perineum making him curse and jerk at the newest sensation. He barely pulled out of her in time before thick spurts of semen shot forth and coated her stomach.
Ever the gentleman to respect her wishes and never need reminding no matter how much time has passed.
Thancred’s bare chest heaved and his cock pulsed with the final aftershocks of their thorough fucking. Rumple, self sufficient as she was, carefully moved along the bed until she reached one of the cabinets where she kept spare towels just for this occasion and cleaned herself up. He fell into bed next to her moments later and pulled the Miqo’te to his chest while kissing her shoulder.
She closed her eyes and purred, tail lazily flicking against his legs as he held her close. Rare were the moments she allowed herself to be cuddled, and rarer still for it to be after such an act of intimacy. Thancred was different. They had history.
At least that’s what she tried to tell herself. Admitting it was anything else was a dangerous territory she dared not travel.