over here.” And she
patted the barely-there padding beside her, sitting up on the thin cot as she
did so.
For a moment Lavinia looked shocked, but it was only
playacting. She sashayed the two steps to Arvra’s cot, turned and daintily sat.
Arvra took a look past her to their cage’s door, still seeing and hearing no
one in the corridor beyond. Well, if those Guard bastards were going to leave
them to their own devices, they would damn well devise something! A
wicked grin pulled on her lips, shifted her jaw.
Lavinia was sitting close, the soft bare flesh of her thigh
just grazing Arvra’s more muscular leg. Arvra felt excitement still rising in
her. “My name is Arvra Finean.” Stupid time for a formal introduction, she
thought, putting it down to the delightful, quivery nervousness she felt.
Full lips moved, communicating mirth. Eyes glittered,
conveying unmistakable arousal. “My full name’s Lavinia Jamavla.”
“Pretty name.” Arvra was leaning toward her. “For a pretty
woman.” Then their lips were touching, that initial wondrous contact, full of
sparks and jeopardy and possibilities. Lavinia’s thicker lips seemed to envelop
hers, melting over them, warming her. Their mouths moved in a sudden harmony.
Little of the sweet delicacy of the moment was lost when Lavinia’s tongue
emerged and Arvra met it with her own. In a remote corner of her mind, she
wondered if this female could taste the fading flavor of Urna’s cock in her
mouth from earlier this evening. But an instant later the Weapon had vanished
from her thoughts, and she was only here, with this woman, taking what solace
she could find, stealing comfort from an otherwise discomfiting night.
Lavinia’s hands were larger than her own, but they had a
babyish softness to them, which felt good when she stroked the side of Arvra’s
face, even as their kiss deepened and deepened. Their tongues tangled with a
greater urgency now. Their mouths were grinding wetly. Lavinia poured hot
breath into Arvra’s body, a rising sigh trailing behind.
Arvra slid her fingers into the woman’s full, rich hair. It
was almost as if its dark color gave it an added density. Her fingertips and
knuckles combed slowly through it as though it were black cream. A fragrance
rose from it, something refined and flowery. Maybe they anointed her before she
was sent in to Rune. Maybe the Shadowflash liked the scent. Arvra certainly
found it appealing.
She lifted her other hand and set it on one of Lavinia’s
bounteous breasts. The nipple was fiercely erect, poking among the mesh of her
draping little garment. She squeezed the full mound, amazed at its firmness.
Lavinia’s mouth opened wider still as her ongoing sigh became a raspy moaning.
Following the glowing points of instinct that led the way
ahead, Arvra slid open Lavinia’s gauzy gown and dropped her mouth down onto
Lavinia’s breast. Her tongue tantalized the thick nipple, then she caught the
bud with her teeth, being gentle and cautious about it, aware of the woman’s
responses. Lavinia’s back arched and the moan twisted into a cry.
Arvra bit harder. She moved to Lavinia’s other breast,
devouring, scraping at the nipple with the mild serration of her two top front
teeth. Lavinia’s body heaved on the cot. She caught Arvra with a cupping hand
at the base of her skull, and Arvra crushed her mouth harder onto the mound.
Hands were tearing at Arvra’s own filmy garment—literally.
She heard fabric ripping and didn’t care. Heat chugged in her body. Moisture
slickened her pussy, already overspilling. The shreds of her clothing were on
the cell’s stone floor. So were Lavinia’s. Wildness blazed in the dark-haired
woman’s eyes. Her mouth was alive with a fearsome predatory grin as she threw
herself full-length atop Arvra, the heavier body pressing her into the cot. At
no point did Lavinia remark on, or even seem to notice, Arvra’s scars.
The warmth of the female’s flesh was intoxicating. More
patted the barely-there padding beside her, sitting up on the thin cot as she
did so.
For a moment Lavinia looked shocked, but it was only
playacting. She sashayed the two steps to Arvra’s cot, turned and daintily sat.
Arvra took a look past her to their cage’s door, still seeing and hearing no
one in the corridor beyond. Well, if those Guard bastards were going to leave
them to their own devices, they would damn well devise something! A
wicked grin pulled on her lips, shifted her jaw.
Lavinia was sitting close, the soft bare flesh of her thigh
just grazing Arvra’s more muscular leg. Arvra felt excitement still rising in
her. “My name is Arvra Finean.” Stupid time for a formal introduction, she
thought, putting it down to the delightful, quivery nervousness she felt.
Full lips moved, communicating mirth. Eyes glittered,
conveying unmistakable arousal. “My full name’s Lavinia Jamavla.”
“Pretty name.” Arvra was leaning toward her. “For a pretty
woman.” Then their lips were touching, that initial wondrous contact, full of
sparks and jeopardy and possibilities. Lavinia’s thicker lips seemed to envelop
hers, melting over them, warming her. Their mouths moved in a sudden harmony.
Little of the sweet delicacy of the moment was lost when Lavinia’s tongue
emerged and Arvra met it with her own. In a remote corner of her mind, she
wondered if this female could taste the fading flavor of Urna’s cock in her
mouth from earlier this evening. But an instant later the Weapon had vanished
from her thoughts, and she was only here, with this woman, taking what solace
she could find, stealing comfort from an otherwise discomfiting night.
Lavinia’s hands were larger than her own, but they had a
babyish softness to them, which felt good when she stroked the side of Arvra’s
face, even as their kiss deepened and deepened. Their tongues tangled with a
greater urgency now. Their mouths were grinding wetly. Lavinia poured hot
breath into Arvra’s body, a rising sigh trailing behind.
Arvra slid her fingers into the woman’s full, rich hair. It
was almost as if its dark color gave it an added density. Her fingertips and
knuckles combed slowly through it as though it were black cream. A fragrance
rose from it, something refined and flowery. Maybe they anointed her before she
was sent in to Rune. Maybe the Shadowflash liked the scent. Arvra certainly
found it appealing.
She lifted her other hand and set it on one of Lavinia’s
bounteous breasts. The nipple was fiercely erect, poking among the mesh of her
draping little garment. She squeezed the full mound, amazed at its firmness.
Lavinia’s mouth opened wider still as her ongoing sigh became a raspy moaning.
Following the glowing points of instinct that led the way
ahead, Arvra slid open Lavinia’s gauzy gown and dropped her mouth down onto
Lavinia’s breast. Her tongue tantalized the thick nipple, then she caught the
bud with her teeth, being gentle and cautious about it, aware of the woman’s
responses. Lavinia’s back arched and the moan twisted into a cry.
Arvra bit harder. She moved to Lavinia’s other breast,
devouring, scraping at the nipple with the mild serration of her two top front
teeth. Lavinia’s body heaved on the cot. She caught Arvra with a cupping hand
at the base of her skull, and Arvra crushed her mouth harder onto the mound.
Hands were tearing at Arvra’s own filmy garment—literally.
She heard fabric ripping and didn’t care. Heat chugged in her body. Moisture
slickened her pussy, already overspilling. The shreds of her clothing were on
the cell’s stone floor. So were Lavinia’s. Wildness blazed in the dark-haired
woman’s eyes. Her mouth was alive with a fearsome predatory grin as she threw
herself full-length atop Arvra, the heavier body pressing her into the cot. At
no point did Lavinia remark on, or even seem to notice, Arvra’s scars.
The warmth of the female’s flesh was intoxicating. More