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“Are you looking at that barmaid's ass?”
Kahlan jumps at the murmured words breathed into her ear, and quickly averts her gaze. “Don't be so crass,” Kahlan huffs defensively, looking back at her half-eaten breakfast. “And of course I was not looking at that woman's -” she fumbles, searching for a word that won't make her blush further. “- bottom.”
“There's nothing to be ashamed of, Confessor,” Cara says with a quirked eyebrow. Her eyes drift over to the barmaid in question, bent over as she collects mugs and plates from an empty table. The fabric of her skirt falls in just the right way to hint at the supple contours beneath, and Cara's lips curve up appreciatively. “It's a very nice ass.”
“Cara!” Kahlan's cheeks are a furious red, and she stabs at a bite of food. “I love Richard,” she says firmly. “And we can be together now. I have no reason to look at other people, and I'm not even interested in women that way.”
“Are you trying to convince me,” Cara drawls, leaning closer to speak quietly as Richard makes his way back to the table. “Or yourself?”
Refusing to answer, Kahlan looks firmly down at her plate, trying to ignore the heat in her face, and the stubborn warmth between her legs. She was not looking. She wasn't.
After breakfast, when she is interrogating one of the village women about the recent mysterious goings-on, she is certainly not distracted by the seductive curve of the woman's hips. She is the Mother Confessor, and she has a job to do. A job that certainly has nothing to do with leering at everything in a skirt – that's not even something Kahlan would do.
Except that it keeps happening. In Kahlan's defense, the woman at the flower stand really should raise the neckline of her bodice. And the seamstress really does have beautiful fingers, slender but strong. It happens over and over; she'll notice the soft plump lips of the baker's wife, or the delicate collarbone peeking out of the modest neckline of the village healer.
Richard and Zedd are off questioning other villagers, but Cara remains by Kahlan's side, observing her distraction with amusement and interest. Certainly this village is home to more attractive women than most villages they've passed through; but Cara never would have expected Kahlan to be one to notice.
It's when they get around to the training ground of the meager village militia that Kahlan snaps. One soldier is practicing her archery; a strong, lithe woman whose leather armor does nothing to conceal the tantalizing curve of her waist. She releases an arrow, easily landing in the center of the target, and turns to address them, and Kahlan can't take her eyes from the sheen on the woman's chest.
A bead of sweat forms at the archer's neck, slowly trickling down into her cleavage, and Kahlan licks her lips unconsciously. Cara's elbow nudges her back to attention just as the woman is finishing her sentence.
“...really strange. It hasn't affected everyone, but the ones it has, well -”
“Thank you!” Kahlan cuts in abruptly, a slight squeak in her voice. “We appreciate you taking the time to talk to us, and I'm sure what you've told us will be very helpful.”
The woman just scrunches her eyebrows, giving Kahlan an odd look before turning back to the target.
“Did you even hear a word that woman said?” Cara's voice is a rich combination of amusement and surprise, automatically adopting the husky tone it always gets when she teases someone. It sends shivers down Kahlan's spine, and she pulls her arms tighter around herself, eyes fixed on the dirt under her feet as she hurries back to the inn.
Kahlan doesn't say a word until they're safely returned to the room they shared the previous night. She flops down on the bed face-first, hiding the flush on her cheeks that is part arousal and part sheer humiliation.
“I think there's something wrong with me,” she groans into her pillow. She can't stop thinking about women; breasts, hips, legs, mouths, all flash across the inside of her eyelids, and the worst part is that thinking about it makes her want things.
“I'd say so,” Cara replies with a smirk, sinking down into the chair and leaning forward, resting her arms on her knees. “For a moment there, I thought you were going to devour that archer with more than just your eyes.”
Chancing a look at the blonde, Kahlan is met with ample cleavage framed by red leather, and she groans and buries her face in her pillow once more. “I don't know what's happening to me; I've never thought of women this way before.”
Cara raises an eyebrow like she doesn't quite believe that, but she lets it slide for now. “It sounds like magic to me. Probably whatever's afflicting the rest of the village. You should talk to Zedd.”
Kahlan's head shoots up from the bed, eyes wide with horror. “I can't go to Zedd with this!” When Cara tilts her head skeptically, Kahlan rolls over, sitting up to pull her knees to her chest and resting her forehead between them. “I don't just want to look,” she confesses to her thighs. “Cara, whatever this magic is, it's making me want to...do things with women, things I've never considered before, ever.”
Rolling her eyes, Cara bites back the comment on the tip of her tongue - that maybe the Confessor is protesting too much – and instead sits back in the chair, crossing her arms under her breasts.
“Maybe you just need to get it out of your system,” she muses, smirking at the visible tensing of Kahlan's shoulders. “It's a shame about your powers. I have no interest in dying, or I'd offer to help.”
Cara's voice is light, teasing, and surely it's meant as a joke, but Kahlan is silent for a long moment as thoughts race through her head. The more she thinks about Cara's offer, joke though it may be, the higher her temperature rises. Slowly, she lifts her head, meeting Cara's gaze, and Cara's mouth goes dry at the desire darkening the blue eyes.
“Oh, no.” Cara shakes her head, raises her hands defensively. The teasing smile on her lips is gone, replaced by a look somewhat akin to a deer that realizes it's about to be shot.
Kahlan swallows, summoning her nerve. “Why not?” Cara's eyes widen in disbelief, a thousand replies on the tip of her tongue. “Confession doesn't need to be an issue,” she continues, her voice rough with want. “I think- I think maybe I just need to touch someone. Maybe if I -” she struggles with the words, “- if I just pleasured you, it would go away.” She buries her head between her knees again, her cheeks burning hot with embarrassment.
Cara smirks. “What makes you think you'd even be capable of pleasuring a Mord-Sith?” The haughty challenge in her voice is undermined by the slight tremble in the words.
Even without looking, without being able to read the Mord-Sith, Kahlan knows that Cara wants to give in. This could complicate things later, and Kahlan is pretty sure she shouldn't even be considering this, but she's literally being driven mad by the thoughts plaguing her mind.
“Cara, please.” She looks up again to pin Cara with an imploring gaze, shyly biting her lip. The combination of the need in her voice and the knowledge that Kahlan is actually, seriously, begging Cara for this is enough to break the Mord-Sith's legendary resolve.
It's really a favor to Richard, Cara tells herself as she slides her agiels free and sets them on the dresser. If his beloved is obsessed with bedding every woman she comes across, that hardly leaves room for kissing and cuddling and having lots of babies with him.
Blue eyes burn into her as she tugs her gloves off, and the heat that gathers between Cara's legs suggests that maybe she's not just doing this out of duty.
Kahlan herself is too far gone to think of Richard except to note absently that the thought of him doesn't inspire nearly the amount of passion she's feeling just looking at the newly-bared skin of Cara's hands. It must be another effect of the magic, that's all. Besides, there are more important things to focus on, like those nimble fingers reaching up behind Cara's neck to work at the laces there.
“You know, this would go faster if you did more than sit there and gawk,” Cara points out, her voice shaded with impatience. The anticipation of Kahlan's touch is wreaking havoc on her composure.
Blinking, Kahlan realizes that she has, in fact, been simply staring at the play of muscles beneath Cara's skintight leather, the quickening rise and fall of her breasts, the impossible fullness of her lips. Swallowing nervously, she slides to the edge of the bed, her heart hammering in her chest as she grips the bedspread for a moment. She can't believe she's actually about to do this, but she can't imagine not.
Pushing herself to her feet, Kahlan moves around Cara, shaking fingers taking over as Cara starts to loosen the laces at her wrists. When Cara reaches up to her shoulders and tugs the leather down her front, Kahlan can't tear her eyes away from the subtle shifting of muscles, the defined curve of her shoulder blades, the gentle tapering at her waist.
Cara stiffens momentarily at the first touch of soft fingertips to her skin. The caress is tender, hesitant – something Cara would have punished her lovers for, once upon a time. She can hardly expect Kahlan to know that, however, any more than she can expect Kahlan to take her as roughly and impersonally as she is accustomed to.
Moist lips join Kahlan's hands on Cara's back, trailing soft kisses along every dip and curve, and Cara's hands bunch into fists to keep from reaching for Kahlan. Instead, she reaches for the buckles of her belt, quickly tossing it aside as Kahlan's hands drift down to her sides, tracing slow circles into the smooth skin of her waist.
“There are much more interesting parts of me to explore, Confessor,” Cara purrs, trying to keep her voice even. Kahlan pauses, and Cara takes advantage of the opportunity and turns around, the top of her leathers hanging from her waist.
Kahlan's eyes wander hungrily over the gentle curve of Cara's neck, the soft jut of her collarbone, the ample swell of breasts topped with stiff, pink nipples. Her hesitance is rapidly fading, replaced by the urge to explore every inch of Cara's golden skin with hands and lips and tongue.
Cara looses an approving groan as Kahlan's lips close eagerly around one breast, her hand coming up to palm the other. Kahlan moans in response, rolling one nipple between her fingers while her tongue memorizes the taste and feel of the other. Cara tastes of leather and sweat and woman, and Kahlan drinks it in like she's dying of thirst.
Finally Cara's hands shove at her shoulders, pushing her away so she can finish stripping off her leathers. Kahlan watches raptly, her hands clenching unconsciously with the desire to touch every bit of skin as it's revealed.
When she is finished, Cara kicks her leathers aside and slides onto the bed, stretching in a slightly exaggerated manner just to see the look on Kahlan's face. It's completely worth it; Kahlan's jaw drops, her eyes burning with desire as they take in every gloriously naked part of Cara's body.
A rational thought manages to sneak into Kahlan's mind, and she reaches down to pull off her boots before climbing onto the bed. She looks down at Cara with eyes dark with want and glittering with wonder, and it's all Cara can do to keep herself from reaching for Kahlan, forcibly guiding her hands and mouth where she wants them.
Kahlan may not be able to read the Mord-Sith, but she does know her. She never would have imagined the blonde would willingly be so submissive. It touches Kahlan, somewhere deep beyond the desire racing through her blood. Her face softens as she leans down, and Cara's heart stops for a moment when she thinks that Kahlan is going to kiss her. While she can see where that might be a logical thing for Kahlan to want, it's a little more intimate than Cara was planning on allowing.
Her sigh of relief turns into a soft moan as Kahlan's mouth lowers instead to her neck, sucking gently up the column of her throat before hovering over her ear. “Thank you,” she murmurs, and Cara closes her eyes, swallows the lump in her throat, because she knows what Kahlan is thanking her for, and hearing the words forces her to face the reality of what it is she's doing.
Forcing it from her mind, she tries to focus instead on the pleasurable sensation of Kahlan's mouth and hands as the Confessor works her way down her body, lingering in places that elicit a particularly interesting response. By the time she traces a hipbone with her tongue, Cara is clenching the blankets tightly in her fists.
A strangled moan escapes the blonde's throat as Kahlan brushes her fingers over the coarse curls covering her sex, and Kahlan looks up to see Cara's face flushed with need. It's intoxicating, this power she can feel pulsing in her fingertips; she had expected to be awkward and fumbling, to not be enough for Cara, but the slick wetness she feels as she dips her fingers lower is evidence to the contrary. The heady scent of Cara's arousal fills her nostrils, and she licks her lips as her eyebrow rises in question.
Cara groans in response, arching her hips up into Kahlan's hand, and that is all the answer Kahlan needs. She lowers her head, and the taste of Cara floods her mouth, makes her light-headed. It's so good - why has she never considered doing this before?
For a long moment she forgets what she's doing, lost in the thick tang of Cara's sex. It's only when Cara arches insistently into her mouth, knuckles white with the effort to restrain herself, that Kahlan comes back to herself and begins to explore, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh.
Her hands, trembling where they rest against the inside of soft thighs, jump into action as the sounds escaping Cara's throat become more urgent. One hand slides up to spread Cara open with thumb and forefinger, allowing Kahlan's mouth better access as the other slides up below her chin, teasing at the entrance to Cara's sex.
Cara grunts her approval, and Kahlan slides one tentative finger into her, gasping at the heat enveloping the digit. At Cara's strained request for more, Kahlan adds another finger, then another, thrusting in as her tongue flicks over Cara's clit in clumsy strokes.
Unpracticed Kahlan may be, but it has been awhile since Cara has indulged, and it's Kahlan. Kahlan's fingers pumping into her, Kahlan's lips wrapped around her clit, Kahlan's voice humming small moans of satisfaction into her sex, and Cara finds herself at the edge much faster than she expected.
Kahlan experiments with different angles as she slides in and out of Cara, trying to figure out which ones the blonde likes the most, and it shocks them both when she hits just the right one. Then Cara is writhing and shaking and groaning as her climax crashes over her, and Kahlan pulls away so she can watch Cara's face as it happens. The unrestrained, wanton pleasure on the blonde's features are enough to make Kahlan clench with need.
As Cara comes down, Kahlan reluctantly slides her fingers out of her pulsing heat, collapsing next to Cara on the bed. She lies there on her back, waiting for the desire to dissipate, waiting for whatever magic this is to release its hold on her. She's succumbed to these appetites that certainly aren't her own, shouldn't that be enough?
Her lips grow dry from her quick, panting breaths, and she slides her tongue out to moisten them. The taste of Cara is still sharp on them, and Kahlan groans as she realizes that this hunger isn't anywhere close to going away. She wants more than ever, and the combination of that and the exertion of pleasuring Cara has her uncomfortably overheated.
Sitting up, Kahlan quickly unlaces her jacket, tugging it off and tossing it to the side. The cool air brushes over her bare arms, teasing at her nerve endings, heightening her arousal rather than quelling it, and Kahlan flops back down, grunting in frustration.
The bed shifts beneath her as Cara raises herself up on an elbow, a knowing smirk on her face. “It's still there, isn't it?”
The gravelly, well-sexed tone of Cara's voice hits Kahlan squarely between the legs, and Kahlan closes her eyes against the wave of lust surging through her. Cara doesn't need to see the tight shake of Kahlan's head to know she's right.
Cara hadn't intended to reciprocate; not out of greed or disregard for the pleasure Kahlan was offering, but out of respect for Richard. Somehow, she could justify in her head allowing Kahlan to service her, if it would help the situation in the long run, but the Mord-Sith that she still is could not rationalize laying hands on what belongs to her Lord Rahl.
She's not thinking of Richard now, though; not with Kahlan lying before her dripping with need, aching for her touch. It doesn't take much more than that to spur Cara's hand forward, fingertips sliding up along the slit in Kahlan's skirt.
Kahlan's eyes shoot open at the touch, and her hand closes tightly around Cara's wrist. Even driven half-mad with arousal, she knows that it is dangerous for Cara to touch her.
“Relax, Kahlan,” Cara murmurs, her pulse hammering against Kahlan's hand. “I'll stop when you get close. But I think you need this.”
Warily, Kahlan releases Cara's wrist, trying to relax as Cara's hand resumes its path. She can still feel her control tightly locked around her power; surely she can allow this for a short while, at least. Besides, Cara's fingers are soft and warm, lighting a fire under her skin as they dip down between her thighs.
Then Cara's fingers are rubbing through the thin cotton covering her sex, quick and hard and in just the right spot, and Kahlan can feel the locks springing free, her magic bursting at the seams of control that she had thought was made of steel, but is turning out to be as fragile as glass. She barely has time to gasp out Cara's name, to clench her hands in the pillow to keep from clasping them around Cara's throat, before her release and her magic both break free.
Cara watches with darkened eyes, snatching her hand away as soon as Kahlan tumbles over the edge. She's lucky that Kahlan spread her thighs farther apart in anticipation of her climax, rather than clenching them together. As it is, she managed to bring Kahlan to orgasm without any skin-to-skin contact. A smug grin spreads over her lips as she considers her accomplishment.
Kahlan is not used to such exertion, and when her eyes drift back open as the spasms subside, it is only halfway; she's exhausted from the activity and the release of her power, and she can feel fatigue seeping into her bones.
“That was foolish, Cara,” she chides softly, her voice weary.
The blonde responds by grinning wider. “It worked, though,” she points out with no small amount of pride.
With some effort, Kahlan leans up, her intent clear. The blonde is not expecting it, however, and therefore is at a disadvantage when it comes to avoiding the press of Kahlan's lips to her own. The kiss is sweet, chaste – for all that Cara can taste herself on Kahlan's lips – and brief. Kahlan lingers only a moment before dropping her head back down onto her pillow.
“Don't ever do anything like that again,” Kahlan says solemnly, looking up through half-lidded eyes. “I couldn't bear to lose you, Cara.”
Cara swallows against the rush of emotion flooding her chest, rolling away from Kahlan to sit on the edge of the bed. “Get some rest, Confessor,” she says gruffly. “Maybe by the time you wake up the wizard will have fixed whatever magic caused this.”
Kahlan fights sleep for as long as she can, but trying to sort through the thoughts and feelings racing around in her mind is exhausting in its own right, and she soon slips into unconsciousness.
When she wakes up, the sun is setting outside the window, and her first thought is of Richard. A smile springs to her lips as she realizes the spell must be lifted. If it weren't for the sticky wetness between her legs and the smell of sex lingering in the air, Kahlan could pretend the day never happened.
The memories don't help, either. Her face flushes red as she thinks of what she did just hours before on this bed, what Cara let her do. Her mind had been clouded by magic-induced desire, but she also vaguely remembers getting the sense that Cara wanted her to do it, for reasons that felt deeper than mere pleasure. She groans, bringing her hand to her forehead, and jerking it away when the scent of Cara fills her nostrils.
Her mind swimming with conflicted thoughts, Kahlan rises from bed and cleans herself up, arriving downstairs just in time for the evening meal.
“Kahlan!” Richard's face lights up as he sees her approach and waves her over.
Cara's eyes sear into her as she settles into the seat next to Richard. Kahlan's stomach flips at the sight of the blonde, freshened and back in her leathers. Maybe the spell isn't lifted after all, because Kahlan can feel her pulse racing under Cara's scrutiny, and it burns deeper than mere embarrassment.
“Did you sleep well?” Cara asks with a satisfied smirk.
Kahlan blushes, nodding as politely as she can manage. “I did.”
“Zedd figured out what was going on around here,” Richard informs her with all the enthusiasm she's come to expect when something gets accomplished.
“Oh?” She replies, trying not to sound too interested. “What was it?”
“Apparently there was some spell affecting the townspeople – not all of them, but enough,” he explains. “It latched on to people's most hidden desires and amplified them. Made people do all kinds of things they never would have realized they wanted to.”
Kahlan's face falls, her mouth going dry. “Amplified them?” she chokes out, eyes wide. “So the desires were already there?”
Cara's smirk seems to grow impossibly more smug, and Kahlan fixes her eyes on the faded wood of the table.
“Yeah, and obviously some of them would have been better left hidden, like that farmer and his-” Richard stops, his brow furrowing as the panic in Kahlan's tone registers. “Wait, why do you ask?”
Kahlan just blushes harder.
Later, when Cara pulls her aside to suggest that maybe she could join her and Richard sometimes, when they're being intimate – although Cara certainly doesn't use those words - Kahlan surprises herself with the realization that she wouldn't really mind.
end.