Chapter Text
Wren leapt into the sparring ring in the salle and heaved her practice ax at Jorge. He’d taken Galen with 3 points to the chest and 2 to the head, but Wren knew he was flagging, could see his chest heaving and hear his breath coming in gasps as he tried to catch it.
“Whoa there!” he said, dancing back, just out of her reach. Not far enough though, and her backswing caught him hard across the chest, just above his nipples, leaving a greasy chalkline across his bare skin.
“Three!” called Mare.
“Aw come on, that’s only two, it would’ve been too shallow!” Marcus argued.
“She gets an extra point for style,” Mare said, grinning. “Anything to mess up his man-scaping.”
“Ah! Wren, don’t you know you’re supposed to take me to dinner first?” Jorge teased, panting and trying to make more space between them. Wren blushed and took another swing. He batted it away, pivoted and came up on the side, swinging.
“Think you're so… funny, Jorge.” Swing, spin, retreat, parry. “You always start too fast and never… hah… save enough… to finish!” Wren panted, blocking again and then sprinting forward. She barreled toward him and yanked her ax back close to her body, bending her knees and ducking under his wild sword thrust in response. She skidded forward on planted feet, and when she was inches from crashing into him she thrust her ax straight up and caught him square under the chin, snapping his head back.
“Now THAT’s three!” Istvhan yelled, catching Jorge as he reeled back. “You need to stop underestimating her, Jorge, she’s had you three times now.”
Everyone laughed at that, but Mare got her quip in first, “Now now, no one needs to speculate on how many times Wren has had him.” She lowered her voice to a theatrical whisper, “but you know if she had he would definitely be walking funny.”
Wren blushed, partly from victory, and partly in embarrassment, but she was still smiling. She walked up to Jorge, holding out her hand. “Maybe next time you’ll remember that short and fat doesn’t mean slow,” she said.
He grasped her hand. “Madam,” he said, kissing her knuckles, “I have thought you are many things, but I have NEVER thought you were slow.”
They all laughed as Wren's cheeks blazed, but Mare stepped in to take Jorge’s place as he took up his position in the circle again. She lifted her sword in a crisp salute, and Wren grinned with all her teeth in response.
“Ah, another oak for me to fell?” Wren joked, hefting her ax. Mare was easily over six feet tall, and muscled like all the Dreaming God’s paladins. “I thought I’d be fighting paladins, not chopping down trees.”
“Oh I don’t know if I’ll be as easy to chop down as Jorge,” Mare laughed. She held her sword in a low two-handed grip, cutting off Wren’s preferred point of entry into her opponent’s guard. “For one thing,” she said as she stepped around, circling to Wren’s left and her off-hand, “I have more.. stamina!”
The last word was shouted as she came in low and fast, the point of her practice sword angling up and into Wren’s left armpit. Wren stepped back, pivoting on her front foot to bring her ax around and slap Mare’s blade away, and continued her spin to come up swinging on her right. She was hoping she’d managed to clear Mare’s guard, but the other paladin easily lifted the cross guard of her sword and caught Wren’s ax-blade on it. The ax bounced up and back along the cross guard as Mare moved past Wren, not wanting to stay within her reach, and the wooden blade of the ax caught Mare across the forearm, just as her sword came up at Wren’s back and sliced at her left hamstring.
“That’s at least one on the arm!” Stephen yelled.
“But it’s four on the leg,” Jorge countered. “Should be five, you can’t move with a cut hamstring.”
Wren gritted her teeth, sweat streaming down her back. She kept her left foot planted as Mare circled her. Wren knew she was done for, but she wanted to score at least once more before the bout ended. She hefted her ax, spinning it, then feinted a step forward with her right foot as Mare was mid-stride. The Dreaming God’s paladin had to plant her lifted foot early, making her stance too short, and Wren, who knew she couldn’t charge and saw Mare’s blade coming for her, simply lifted her hand in a low underarm swing and THREW her ax at her opponent.
Mare’s sword was extended to swing toward Wren’s exposed ribs, but her short stance meant she staggered when the ax came at her. She stepped back mid-sword swing, though the very tip of her wooden blade still sliced across Wren’s middle. The ax spun once and whacked hard into Mare’s midsection, leaving a greasy chalk smudge right below her sternum.
“That’s five!” Jorge yelled when he saw Mare’s blade hit Wren’s ribs.
“That’s five!” Stephen yelled when he saw Wren’s ax strike Mare’s belly.
“They’re both dead,” said Istvhan.
“We’re both fine,” Mare said, puffing. The breath had been knocked out of her, but she was smiling. “That was fantastic, Wren. I always forget that axes are throwing weapons as well as slashing ones. If I hadn’t gotten that hit on your leg I’d have been laid out.”
“You always know… ha, to keep your guard low, with me,” Wren panted in return. “I can’t ever get in close like… like I like to.”
Mare’s eyes twinkled. “I have seen your brothers and mine make the mistake of thinking that short means easy to defeat, and have always enjoyed you proving them wrong.” She threw an arm around Wren’s shoulders as they both left the sparring circle, heading to the water barrel. “I wasn’t about to make that mistake myself.”
The two women - one tall and lean and muscular, breasts bound under layers of cloth, the other short and fat and muscular, wearing a patched white tunic over her breasts and belly - ladled out cups of water from the barrel. They each drank the first one, and then both dumped the second over their heads.
“However,” Mare said, her voice low as she wiped the dripping water off her face. “I wouldn’t mind letting you get in a little… lower, later.” She leaned casually against the wall, then turned to look at Wren, smiling so lasciviously Wren was surprised her hair wasn’t steaming. “If you’d like.”
Wren considered this while she wiped the chalk off her hands. She’d been married to a man, but that had been a marriage of convenience and had led to only three actual nights of consummation before she’d been taken by the Saint. She’d had her share of short flings after he’d died, mostly with healers at the Rat’s temple. They’d all been kind, gentle folk, one of them a man younger than she was and another a person of no gender about 10 years her senior. Wren had never actually slept with a woman, but she wasn’t afraid of it just… inexperienced.
And here was Mare, looking like she’d been chiseled from the side of a mountain, chestnut hair swept back from a gentle widow’s peak, and water dripping down over her skin to soak into the binding on her breasts. Which were heaving. Because, you know, they’d just been sparring.
“If I… wanted to, ah, come in low, later,” Wren said haltingly. “Would I, ah… need, um, additional instruction?”
Mare grinned wider. “Oh, I don’t think so,” she said, reaching out to run a finger slowly down Wren’s arm. The contact raised gentle gooseflesh across her skin. Mare reached Wren’s palm and traced each finger to its tip, and the soft, barely-there sensation was MADDENNING. “I think you’ll be fine if you just… do what comes naturally.”
Wren shivered. “Mm, see,” said Mare, biting her lower lip, “you’re already so… responsive. I think you’ll be able to hold your own.”
They both smiled at each other, Wren shyly, Mare with a hunger that made Wren go slightly weak in the knees.
“Stop flirting and get back to work!” yelled Jorge.
“You wish, Jorge!” Mare yelled back, not taking her eyes off Wren.
Wren looked over and saw that none of the other paladins were even looking at them. Jorge had been teasing, he hadn’t actually seen anything.
Her brothers in arms had always treated Wren like a younger sister. The thing about that was, of all of her brothers, only Istvhan actually HAD any younger sisters.
So really, only Istvhan actually knew how much she was capable of getting away with.
***
The rest of the day was fairly routine. The paladins all washed, shared out palm-full’s of Istvhan’s muscle rub, and went about their evening duties before sitting together in the dining hall for the evening meal.
Wren let Galen massage her shoulders and upper arms, and check on the bruises forming on the back of her leg and the side of her ribs. Nothing for the healers, but she’d be stiff for a day or two. “Piper will want me to tell you to take extra time to stretch, tomorrow,” Galen said, screwing the lid onto the jar of muscle rub.
“How is your good doctor?” Wren asked, pulling a clean tunic on.
Galen smiled like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. Wren didn’t like to stoke any of her brothers’ egos - gods knew Galen of all people didn’t need it - but she was so happy to see him so… well, happy.
“I’m actually meeting him for dinner after work,” Galen said. “I’ll eat a bit here and then head out. There was that house fire the other day, so he’s had a pretty large caseload, but I told him he needed to take a break or I’d start lighting other things on fire.”
“Oh you ass,” Wren said, smacking him with a towel. “But you’re both well?”
Galen smiled that insanely bright smile again. “We are,” he said.
Wren leaned in and hugged him, and he hugged her back.
Dinner was oat biscuits and gravy, and lots of it. Wren had thoughts on the biscuits - it would only take a little more butter and maybe an extra egg to make them less saw-dusty, really she should just go see if she could talk to the baker about being less stingy, but it wasn’t her place - but the gravy was rich and peppery and there was fresh cider to wash it all down.
The paladin’s each excused themselves in ones and twos and wished each other good night. Stephen had left with Galen, to walk into town to see Grace. Clara had joined them for dinner, sitting hip to hip with Istvhan and teasing them all about smelling like a sweaty spice market. Shane left to return to the Dreaming God’s temple with Bryce, another of the demon-slaying paladins, and Jorge had wandered back with Marcus, mug of cider in hand, arguing about the superiority of dice over cards.
“No, see, cards get wet during campaign, or muddy, or you sweat through your tunic and they get all mashed together, and then you’re left playing with half a deck or with marked cards you didn’t even mean to cheat with until you can buy or paint a new set. Dice, though, you can’t ruin those if you work at it…” Jorge was saying, as the two men disappeared around a corner.
Wren and Mare were left at the end, and they continued to chat about temple news, city gossip, and their friends and family. Wren learned that Mare had family outside the Dowager’s capital, not too far from Shane’s family, and that her youngest sister had just come home to loudly declare her intent to marry a river merchant that no one in the family had ever even heard of before.
Wren laughed. “Youngest sisters really can get away with anything,” she said.
Mare’s eyes sparked, “I know they can,” she said, smiling over her mug at Wren. “I figure she’s probably been seeing him for years now, as he went up and down the river. Who knows what they’ve gotten up to. But there’s four of us girls, and father will be happy to see her settled, even if it’s on a barge.” She chuckled. “At least she’s not haring after demons like I am.”
“Are you the oldest?” Wren asked.
“Second oldest. I’m 36. My big sister, Kit, she’s 40. Rosa, the youngest, is just about 22. My ma had… difficulties, in getting with child, but they always wanted a big family. Just kept trying. Ma passed a few years ago, but Da’s always loved us girls. Jora, the third, she’ll get the farm I expect. She already runs most of it. Never seen a paladin handle a demon with as much skill as that woman shears a sheep.”
Wren laughed. “You taking lessons from her?”
“What, in sheep shearing? You worried I’m going to fleece you?” Mare asked. They both stood, smiling, and started ambling back to the paladin’s wing.
“I’m not a lamb,” Wren said, eyeing Mare over the top of her mug as she took another sip. “Might be a wolf in sheep’s clothing though.”
“Ugh, we have to stop, that was a pun too far,” Mare said, wincing.
They had made it back to Wren’s room, which was at the far end of the wing. They had passed Jorge and Marcus playing dice in the courtyard, but otherwise the hall leading down to the rooms had been empty.
Wren didn’t mind if her brothers knew she had dalliances, gods knew she’d seen enough of theirs, but she also wasn’t one to advertise herself. She checked the hall one last time to make sure they hadn’t been spotted, then opened the door to her little room.
Mare followed in close behind her, and when the door shut, the taller woman brushed the hair away from the back of Wren’s neck and leaned down to kiss her. “You tell me if I do anything you don’t like, ok?” she said between kisses.
“Mmmm,” Wren hummed, feeling the warmth of the other woman’s lips. “Ok. And you’ll, ah, tell me…?” Wren didn’t know how to say ‘tell me how to please you since I’ve never done this before’ to a woman she’d hit with an ax just a few hours ago.
“I am well-pleased to to please you, sister,” Mare said against her flesh.
“Mm, maybe not ‘sister’, right now?” Wren said.
She could feel Mare’s lips lifting into a smile against her skin. “You’re absolutely right. Is it alright if I call you… something else?” Her fingers trailed delicately over Wren’s arms, the ghost of a caress through her sleeves, until they reached the hem of her tunic and lifted it up just enough to brush along the waistband of her loose trousers.
“Like what?” Wren said, almost in a whisper. She swayed slightly on her feet, eyes closing, giving herself up to feeling, feeling, FEELING Mare’s fingers as they came around to the front of her belly and drew soft, lazy spirals against her flesh.
“You’ll laugh,” the other woman said, pulling Wren back against her, body to body. “I almost called you ‘swan’ today, when you let your ax fly.”
“Swan!?” Wren said, turning around to glare at her. “What, because I’m dainty and graceful?”
“Hardly,” Mare said, smiling. “Swans are vicious. People think they’re pretty and docile and then when you actually meet one you realize they’re terrifying and have a beak that can break your arm.”
Wren was stunned for a moment, and Mare filled the silence. “Much like you,” she said, stepping closer to wrap her arms around Wren again. “Beautiful and deadly,” she said, lifting one hand to tip Wren’s chin up. She hesitated for a bare moment, before leaning and saying so, so softly, “Yes?”
“Yes,” Wren breathed against her lips, and Mare kissed her.
It wasn’t like kissing a man. Mare was gentle and strong, graceful and responsive, and when Wren tentatively twined their tongues together, Mare didn’t respond by assaulting her mouth, but by twirling her own tongue the same way. Wren was dazzled - Mare’s lips were soft, and her breath smelled like apples, and the kiss was delicate and beautiful and delicious and…
And she realized that her hands had reached up to grasp Mare’s breasts, and she quickly broke the kiss to stammer “Oh I’m so sorry!”
Mare laughed, grabbed Wren’s hands, and placed them back on her breasts. “My stunning swan, I WANT this,” she said, leaning in to kiss along Wren’s jaw line. “May I touch you as well?”
“Yes please,” Wren said. “And sometime soon I’ll stop acting like a school girl, I just… I’ve had lovers before just not-”
“Paladins? Or women?” Mare asked, looking into Wren’s eyes.
“Either, actually,” Wren said.
“Really? With that stable of meat you call your brothers?” Mare raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Not even Shane?”
“Oh gods no!” Wren shuddered. “Shane would be the WORST. And they’re my BROTHERS, damnit, it would be… weird.”
Mare smiled and reached down to take hold of the hem of Wren’s tunic. “Then I am pleased to be your first, regardless,” she said. She lifted her eyebrows as if to ask for permission, and Wren nodded. Mare lifted the shirt off her in one movement, revealing a single cloth band around her small breasts. Mare’s fingers traced the line of fabric, then she bent down even lower to kiss along the top of it, over Wren’s chest. Wren tried not to moan, and mostly succeeded.
“May I…?” she asked, when Mare had pulled back. The other woman nodded, and Wren reached out to unwrap the binding around her breasts. The layers fell away, revealing apple-sized breasts that hung softly down over her ribs. Wren stared.
“I know,” Mare said, grabbing them and lifting them up with her hands, “they definitely sag more than they used to. They’re still fun though,” she said.
Wren shook her head. “They’re beautiful. I don’t…” she looked down at her own chest, probably slightly bigger than Mare’s but, in her own mind, shaped more like a role of fat and less like the attractive chests of people like, say, Marguerite or Clara.
“Oh, Wren,” Mare said, stepping in to press their bodies close. She lifted her hands to palm Wren’s breasts, then leaned down to kiss the top of her shoulder. “You are beautiful, and any person, man, or woman, who doesn’t see that is a fool.”
“What if I don’t see it?” Wren said in a small voice.
“Then you are also a fool,” Mare said gently. “And I would love to spend an evening showing you how foolish you are.”
Mare guided Wren back to the bed - small for two people, but manageable - and gently pressed her down until they were both laying on their sides, Wren with her back to the wall. Mare’s hands roamed all over her body, her delicate touch creating little shockwaves of sensation that rippled across Wren’s nerves. Then she bent her head and took one of Wren’s nipples in her mouth and Wren briefly lost the power of speech.
“Oh my,” she said when Mare pulled back. “That was… that was wonderful,” she gasped.
Mare smiled. “You have such beautiful nipples,” she said. “So rosey and pretty. And they get so hard and tight under my touch…” She trailed her fingers up the side of one breast and then leaned in to lick that nipple again.
Wren didn’t know how long she could take this before her body demanded more, and she wanted to be sure she gave as good as she got. She gently pushed Mare back and lifted her own hand to the taller woman’s breast and said, “May I?”
“Of course,” Mare said, resting back down. Wren experimented with little licks and kisses around the nipple, then took the small dark circle in her mouth and sucked at it, hard. Mare gasped and then hissed, and said, “no teeth, love, please.”
“Oh sorry,” Wren said. She adjusted her position, and as she did so, brushed her fingers underneath the other woman’s breast, and…
And Mare cried out as if she’d been stabbed. Wren immediately pulled back, “Oh! I’m sorry, what-”
But the Dreaming God’s paladin was smiling and her eyes were slightly unfocused. “Uhhh, no one’s found that spot for AGES, you absolute TREASURE,” she said. Wren leaned in and stroked her fingers gently under Mare’s breast again and watched, with no small sense of pride, the other woman moan and writhe under her touch. This went on for some time, and Wren delighted in watching the muscles on Mare’s chest and belly twitch and shake as she caressed her. She could smell the other woman’s arousal now, salty and hot, and could feel herself getting wetter and warmer between her legs.
“I told you that you didn’t need instructions,” Mare said when she’d gotten her breath back, one hand trailing down to cup gently at Wren’s rapidly heating sex. “May I-”
But Mare didn’t get to finish her question, because there was a knock at the door.
A knock. NOW.
Several feelings warred in Wren’s heart. Her desire to shout “Go away!”, her desire to hide Mare under her bed, her desire to rip the door off its hinges and stab whoever was on the other side.
“Lady Wren?” came a voice.
It was Jorge.
“Wren, I’m so sorry, I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he said, sounding distraught, and… maybe a little drunk? “I didn’t mean to joke about your interests, or your lovers, or… or say that you’d ‘had me’ or anything base as that. Not that I wouldn’t! Or you wouldn’t! Or, no, you wouldn’t I’m not worthy, but you could if you- oh damn, I’m making a hash of this. Wren, I’m so sorry for my words earlier. You are a beautiful, capable woman, whom I or any man would be lucky to share a bed, a life, or a battle with. I hope you can forgive me.”
There was a cough from outside, and a thump, and what sounded like Jorge sliding down to the floor with his back to the door. “Gods teeth, you could absolutely have me, if you wanted,” he said, a little softer. Did he think she wasn’t in her room? “I’d be damn lucky, too. You're gorgeous, and when you fight your eyes get so shiny I feel like they’re glowing, and I want to sink my teeth into the muscles on your arms, and let you lock your thighs around- agh!”
Jorge fell back as someone yanked the door open, splashing cider all over himself. “What? I- Mare!”
A nearly-naked Mare grabbed him by the front of his shirt and dragged him into the room. “Strip,” she said, kicking the door shut.
“I, what?” He looked to the side, over at the bed. He saw Wren, also mostly naked, though from his position they were both upside down. “Oh gods you heard me, you- Wait! What are you two doing-?”
“He’s slower on the uptake than he is in the sparring ring,” Wren said to Mare.
“Up, paladin!” Mare barked in her command-voice, “and I said STRIP!”
Jorge was up and halfway out of both shirt and breaches before he realized what was happening. “Wait, why? Did I interrupt… wait, you two???” he said, still looking stunned as his shirt came off over his head.
“It’s not an interruption if you join us,” Mare said, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him towards the bed.
Wren had a bare moment to appreciate how utterly gorgeous Jorge was before he stumbled and fell completely on top of her in only his braes. “I, um… hello, Wren,” he said, sounding somewhat put-upon.
“Hello, Jorge,” Wren said, sounding deeply resigned.
“Jorge, Wren doesn’t feel beautiful,” Mare said, as if declaring war on a neighboring country.
“WHAT!?” Jorge said, whipping around to look at Mare. “Who said it? I’ll kill them!”
Mare climbed into the bed and sat up against the headboard, and helped Wren wriggle up until the shorter woman was lying in her lap looking up at her. “She did, and I’ve told her she’s a fool. I was in the middle of SHOWING her how much of a fool she is, but then you came along and I thought you could help.” Mare combed one hand through Wren’s hair, and ran the other down over her chest, tracing little twisting caresses over her skin. Wren couldn’t help it, she shivered beneath the taller woman’s fingers.
“Wren,” Jorge said, his gorgeous soulful brown eyes looking deeply into hers with so much raw sincerity Wren thought she might weep. “You. Are. Beautiful.”
And he said it in the Voice.
The shivers chased each other up and down Wren’s spine as she melted into Mare’s touches. Jorge pushed himself up until he was above her, looking down. “May I… may I kiss you?” he asked, his voice like a supplicant begging for mercy. “May I touch you?”
Wren could only nod, still enthralled by Mare’s gentle, teasing fingers. Jorge dipped his head down to kiss across her collar bones, then up along her neck and across her jawline. When he reached her lips, he started gently, tenderly, but when her mouth opened to him he pressed down against her as if he’d devour her whole.
The kiss broke and Wren panted, looking up at Jorge, who in his turn was panting and looking down at her, eyes so wild with desperate passion he looked feverish. Mare reached over and twisted her fingers through Jorge’s dark hair and tugged gently. “Don’t stop you lazy ox,” she said.
Jorge smiled suddenly, and shook his head. “Forgive me, I just… you are so utterly enchanting,” he said, dipping down again to kiss her lightly on the lips and then moving back down to her chest. “Please tell me if I do anything you don’t like, Lady,” he said between kisses. “I live only to please you.”
“That’s not… that’s not true,” Wren panted. “You… you slay demons.”
“I do,” said Jorge gravely. “But that’s what I do, not why I live,” he said. He kissed across her breasts, licking across one and then the other nipple with his broad tongue, before descending further and kissing the entire breadth of her belly. Wren shook beneath him. One of Mare’s hands massaged Wren’s scalp, and the other reached down to tease her nipples. Wren tried to reach a hand up to take hold of Mare’s breast, just to feel like she was at least participating, but the taller woman gently guided her hand back down. “Let us love you, Swan,” she said.
Jorge paused and said “Swan,” as if tasting the word. “Oh that’s perfect. Beautiful and-”
“Ferocious,” Mare finished, as she tweaked Wren’s nipple again, making the younger woman moan.
Jorge’s kisses had strayed further down, and he paused a moment to inhale deeply at the curls over Wren’s warm cunt. “You smell like honey,” Jorge said.
That made Wren laugh. “I do not,” she said.
Jorge leaned in and took a deep lung-full of her scent. “I promise,” he said in the Voice. “You smell like, like… like molasses, like dark sweetness. I want to taste you, Wren, I want to taste your sweetness until you’re sated and I’ve proved to you how beautiful you are.” He pressed further down, and she could feel the tip of his nose just barely brush the hood of her clit.
“Ohhh,” Wren sighed. “Gods I want you to, but I don’t want to leave you both unsatisfied,” she said. She looked up at Mare. “It wasn’t my intention to, anyway.”
Mare smiled down and leaned in for an awkward upside-down kiss. “Love, you leave me wanting nothing. And if Jorge doesn’t please you, I will,” she said, glaring down at her fellow paladin.
“Yes Captain,” Jorge said, though he was smiling. Wren gasped as he descended on her tender flesh like a rainstorm.
She had had oral sex before, but Jorge was a master. She couldn’t keep track of where his tongue was, his fingers, his lips and kisses and touches and strokes. She thought his tongue was probing inside her when suddenly he sucked her whole clit into his mouth and tongued across her, which meant it was his fingers inside her, but wait, now he was also stroking her inner thighs, he…
Wren gave up. She abandoned herself to feeling, feeling, FEELING whatever Jorge was doing, whatever Mare was doing, letting the pleasure of so many loving touches wash over her like a river in full flood. Her orgasm almost came out of nowhere, too fast, and she bucked against Jorge’s face and cried out until Mare smothered her scream with a kiss. She could feel herself bursting, dripping, warmth cascading down her folds and into the bedsheets.
“Oh gods above,” she whispered, chest heaving. “That was… was…”
“You are glorious,” Jorge said into her sopping wet pussy, still using the Voice, which made Wren shudder all over again.
“When someone licks me until I come like that,” Mare said softly. “It can go one of two ways.” She caressed the outside of Wren’s ears, rubbing them gently. “Either I want to fall asleep immediately,” she shifted her massaging fingers to Wren’s temples, and leaned down to whisper, “or I want them to put their fingers or their cock in me as fast as humanly possible.”
“You are being… quite the instigator tonight,” Wren said breathlessly to the taller woman, who smiled back.
“Oh, Jorge and I have had a tumble or two before, he knows what I like,” she said. Wren didn’t know that, and looked down at Jorge, whose full attention was still on her legs. “And though I usually prefer women to men, he’s learned a great many tricks with that tongue of his, and I very much wanted to watch him please you. But,” she said, holding up both hands, “that’s just what I would want. I won’t tell you what to want, Swan. I just want you to know that WE want the best of pleasures for you, and we are both at your disposal.”
Wren contemplated the two specimens of humanity who held her between them. Mare, with her commander’s voice, her taught and graceful muscles, her soft breasts, her smiling eyes. Jorge, with his bronze skin and dark hair, the hard plains of his chest and the ripples of muscle across his abdomen.
And, now, quite the tent pitched in his braes. His did not look like it would be the largest cock she’d ever seen - she’d bathed in a river with Istvhan, and even in the snowmelt she’d wondered how any woman had ever taken ALL of that - but Jorge did not look like he would disappoint anyone.
“What will you have of me, Wren?” he asked, leaning up and over her to grind firmly against her hips and plant a soft kiss on her neck. “Name it.”
Well shit, she thought. In for a crown, in for a thaler.
“I want your cock inside me,” she said, looking into Jorge’s eyes. Then she looked up at Mare. “And I want to hear you scream.”
“You,” Mare said, leaning down for another awkward upside down kiss. “Are absolutely glorious. Come, like this.”
Mare helped Wren sit up and slide off the bed, and made Jorge lie down. At some point he’d removed his smallclothes, and his cock was standing almost straight up. No, it wasn’t the longest she’d ever seen, but it was thick and dark and dripping with precum. Wren had thought she’d been wet before when she’d had his tongue on her, but at the sight of that cock she felt almost like a dam had broken loose inside her, sending another rush of wetness into her folds. But as Mare guided her toward the bed, she hesitated.
“I… Jorge, I’m very heavy, I don’t…” Wren said, trying and failing to keep the blush from creeping up her face.
“Dearest,” Mare said, “he has had possessed steers try to sit on him. You will not be a problem.”
“Yes, but he was wearing armor and they weren’t using any of the, the BITS at the time,” Wren said, determined to say her piece. “I just don’t want to, to break anything, and-”
Mare silenced her again with a kiss. It wasn’t fierce, but firm enough that Wren yielded and let herself be kissed. When Mare pulled away, she brought her hands up to Wren’s cheeks, looked deeply into her eyes, and said, “If you want to ride that magnificent cock, then ride it. I am planning to ride his face until either he suffocates or I cum all over him. If he dies, he dies.” Wren couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“Oh Dreaming One,” Jorge said from the bed, placing a hand on his heart. “Please PLEASE see fit to grant me such an honorable departure from this world. I will go with the gladdest of hearts.”
“You are the WORST,” Wren said with feeling, but they were both smiling now. She looked over at Mare, “You first, or me?”
“Jorge?” Mare asked.
“Oh gods, both,” he nearly moaned. “But… Wren, I want to see you, I want to watch you when I enter you, to see your face, I- mmmmm,” he moaned again, eyes closing tight as he squeezed his cock hard, like he was trying to hold himself back.
“I want to watch too,” said Mare. “Go on love, go ride that thick cock that’s begging for you.”
Wren knew some people liked to watch others performing sexual acts together. Piper had told her of a place where there were whole shows about it, but she’d just thought of that the way she thought of the moon - it existed, but it didn’t really have any bearing on her life. But now… now, with the hungry eyes of two stunningly gorgeous people on her, Wren was surprised at how her skin tingled and her cunt felt drenched and her heart hammered in her chest. She thought that shame at her body would eclipse those feelings but when she saw how HUNGRY Jorge looked, how desperate he was, she found herself feeling sexier than she ever had in her life.
“Come here, lover,” she said, climbing on to the bed and straddling him. His cock was so thick she could hardly wrap her hand around it. She positioned herself over him, feeling her own slick heat on her fingers, then looked up and met his eyes. “Jorge?” she said.
“Yes?” he replied, weakly.
“Watch,” she commanded, and then let her hips drop until they slammed into him, taking his whole cock in one long thrust.
Jorge’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, and he moaned and bucked up against her uncontrollably. “Gods Wren, you’re so hot, you’re so wet, I can’t, I can’t…!” he descended into near total incoherence, bucking and writhing and reaching down to caress her thighs, her belly, the swell of her pubic mound.
Wren on the other hand, was stretched so tightly over his cock she felt like there was a wine bottle inside her. Jorge was so hard and thick that every time she felt him thrust up into her she was sure she wouldn’t be able to take him, but every time she was wrong, and her soaking wet cunt just wanted more and more and MORE.
Their mutual frenzy was increasing until Mare leapt onto the bed and sat on Jorge’s chest, facing Wren. “You ass,” she said back over her shoulder, “save some for me.” She slid back on his chest until her cunt was directly over his face, tucking her legs under his arms and her knees on either side of his ribs. “Tap me if you need to breathe,” she said, then leaned forward and placed her hands on Wren’s breasts. “Now about these gorgeous nipples you have,” she said, taking one into her mouth.
Jorge, when presented with a pussy in need of servicing as obviously as Mare’s was, did not need to think about how to proceed. Instinct took over. He lapped up against her hole and slipped his tongue inside her as far as it would go, licking and sucking and savoring what he found there. Then he licked up and down her outer folds, feeling her start to shudder, and started twisting his tongue between them, above her hole and below her clit. His face was drenched in the juices of two gorgeous women, and…
Oh right, his cock was buried in Wren, who had just born down and SQUEEZED him inside her and he felt like a fist was wrapped around him and GODS it was good. She started riding him again, and he couldn’t think for how TIGHT she was, and Mare’s cunt was in his face and he found her clit and he tongued it HARD and he was lost, lost, lost to utter bliss and-
Once again, Wren was unable to keep track of everything that was happening. Jorge filled her up like lightning running through her veins, and Mare’s hands and tongue were everywhere on her body, caressing her skin, sucking her nipples, biting and licking at her neck, pulling her in for a kiss and tugging at her hair. Wren could hardly believe it, two paladin’s of the dreaming god, both so beautiful that sculptors would weep to carve them, every muscle sculpted and feature flawless, were fucking her like their lives depended on it, like SHE was the only object of their adoration. The physical touches were amazing, but Wren’s mind buzzed with knowing that these people, these two beautiful people, were here only for her pleasure, and the thought alone made her sopping wet pussy gush over Jorge’s needy cock. Eventually Mare leaned forward and placed her hands on Wren’s shoulders, and she felt the taller woman lean against her, but Wren took the weight and used it to drive down harder, harder, HARDER onto Jorge’s cock. Every bounce and thrust and deep CLENCH inside her brought her closer, closer to the edge, closer to losing control, closer-
Mare, who had had Jorge’s tongue before - and his cock, but cock wasn’t her favorite - knew what was coming and was braced for it. Gods the man knew his business. He teased her just long enough to get her knees shaking, then went in for the fast, flicking strokes he knew she liked best and drove her closer and closer to the edge. She found herself grinding against his face, and he sucked as much of her into his mouth as he could, tonguing her clit the whole time. She tried to slow herself down, to focus on Wren - on the younger paladin’s gorgeous face, her wide and sparkling eyes, her beautiful pink nipples, the textures of her skin, soft fat over muscle as hard as iron. When she placed her hands on Wren’s shoulders and leaned forward to kiss her deeply, she’d expected the other woman’s pace on Jorge’s cock to slow, but Wren took the weight as if Mare’s whole body was as light as a feather. Gods this woman was beautiful, she was stunning and fierce and a fantastic kisser and her tits were in Mare’s hands and her tongue was in Mare’s mouth and Jorge was sucking on her like he might die if he didn’t and she was so close, so close, so-
They came in a cascade, Wren bearing down on Jorge with a scream into Mare’s mouth, Mare clenching over Jorge’s face with a cry into Wren’s, Jorge grunting and thrusting up hard into Wren with a cry that Mare could feel against her cunt. Wren shuddered as Jorge emptied inside her, Jorge groaned as Mare splashed over his face, and Mare nearly wailed as Jorge’s mouth enveloped her.
As they started to come back to themselves, they shakily and sloppily fell apart. Mare and Wren toppled off Jorge, Wren falling to the bed and Mare, leaning up against the wall.
“By all the gods,” Wren said softly, staring at the ceiling.
“Lady Wren, you are GLORIOUS,” Jorge said, his paladin’s Voice coming through even in a whisper.
“You’re decent,” Mare said, patting Jorge’s cheek. He laughed softly, too wrung out for much more. “You though,” she said, looking down at Wren, “you are so utterly beautiful.” And Wren heard the other woman’s Voice coming through too.
“I don’t know how you see it,” Wren said to both of them. “But I believe you.”
***
The next day, Galen had returned from his evening with Piper early, set for guard duty during a trade mediation by the Rat’s lawyers. He’d wanted time to get into clean kit and have a word with Stephen about the Gnole wagon traffic that was becoming a hallmark of the temple - did they need some kind of staging area? - and he was walking down the hall by the doors to the paladin’s quarters when the door to Wren’s room opened.
“Good morning sis- Jorge?” Galen sputtered.
“Good morning, Galen,” Jorge said, naked to the waste and at least having the grace to look a little sheepish. Not embarrassed, but the way a man might look if he ran into his lover’s older brother while stinking of sex.
“I.. um, well, I trust you had a good night?” Galen said, not really knowing what to say. He liked Jorge a great deal, and knew Wren was a grown woman but… really? Jorge? If he broke Wren’s heart he was a deadman, no questions asked, but - well thinking about his sister-in-arms’ love life wasn’t something he’d expected to be doing this morning.
“I did,” was all Jorge said, before heading toward the baths.
“Huh,” Galen said to himself, watching the taller man go. He was just getting his thoughts in order - right, talk to Stephen, gnole traffic - when the door opened again and Mare came out.
“Mare!?” Galen nearly shouted, completely flabbergasted.
“Good morning Galen!” she said cheerfully, and gave him a saucy wink. “How’s that doctor of yours doing?”
“Piper? Oh, he’s fine, we’re fine, it’s all… it’s all fine,” Galen said.
“Glad to hear it,” Mare said. She was at least mostly dressed, though her boots were tied by the laces and hanging over her shoulder with her jacket. “Think I’ve got time for breakfast before they miss me over at the temple?” she asked.
“I, uh- it’s only half seven, I thought you people didn’t start demon slaying until after ten,” Galen said.
“Perfect!” Mare said, smiling. “Time for tea and toast then.” She smiled wide at Galen and made her way toward the far courtyard and the dining hall, hips swaying.
Galen walked up and peered in. “Are there any more in there?”
“Galen!” Wren yelled, her tunic half-on over her head. “Haven’t you got any decency?”
“None whatsoever,” he said, smiling. “I take it you had a good night?”
“I did. WE, did,” she said stiffly.
“Wren,” Galen said, gentling his voice. “It’s alright for you to have flings, we all do it. Saint’s teeth, we’re all DOING it, I can’t imagine what it’s been like to listen to me and Piper, and Stephen and Grace, and Istvhan and Clara really know how to bring the house down-”
“Oh shut up you shameless dog,” Wren said, finishing pulling her clothes on.
“I’m just saying, you don’t need to hide anything,” he said, smiling a genuine smile. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
She looked at him then, and smiled back. “I am.”
“Now,” Galen said, rubbing his hands together. “Was it you and Mare, and Jorge watched? Or did Mare watch? The bed is kind of small, did you take turns, or-?”
Wren stalked out and shoved him aside. She was shorter, but definitely stronger, and he was well and truly shoved back against the wall. “No one took turns,” she said. She shut her door and turned to look at him. “If you must know, it was fully mutual.”
“But how did-”
“WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW!” Wren bellowed as she stalked off toward breakfast.
“Yes, yes I really would!” Galen said, hurrying to follow.