by S D Simper
And lightly smacked her on the ass.
Tallora squeaked, uncertain of what that meant, but Dauriel’s ensuing grin held such crass enjoyment that she giggled and said, “You can do that again, Empress.”
Dauriel obeyed, and the sharp sting melded with her pleasure. “Gods, you’re something.”
“Only something?”
“The light of my life? The thief of my heart? A fine set of tits and ass?”
Tallora balked at the words, then grinned despite the rhythmic fucking. “I knew I liked you.”
She gasped when Dauriel suddenly leaned forward, grinding their hips together. When she grabbed Tallora’s breasts from behind, she squeezed and said, “Only like?”
“You’re ridiculous—” Tallora’s words cut off when Dauriel pinched the delicate buds. When Dauriel released her, Tallora whined, pouting as she batted her eyelashes, only to cry out when their fucking resumed—harder this time, and she swore Dauriel’s hands would leave marks on her hips. Oh, she was perfection, and Tallora so loved her crass words.
They continued at a smooth pace, each thrust pulling desperate cries from her lips. When Dauriel suddenly gasped and moaned, Tallora looked back again, watching ecstasy flash across Dauriel’s perfect face, saw her tremble and shudder as her pleasure peaked—and to actually see her undone was the most glorious vision of all.
Dauriel kept a slow pace, perhaps sensitive after her orgasm, but one of her hands slipped around Tallora’s hip. Her empress’ body pressed close against hers as her finger rubbed against Tallora’s clit, the touch and the fullness within her enough to quickly push her over.
Tallora cried out, her arms nearly failing as she finished. Pleasure coursed through her limbs, her quivering form finally stilling when Dauriel removed her hand. They remained still a moment, their heavy breathing all that filled the night. Then, Dauriel withdrew, and Tallora felt an empty ache within her.
Dauriel fell down beside her and immediately grabbed her, held her desperately, their bodies sweaty and heaving from pleasure.
The strangest sound met Tallora’s ear—an endearing blend of laughter twisted with tears. Kisses fell like rain upon her head, and the understanding of what this meant to Dauriel nearly drove her to tears as well.
Tallora returned the yearning embrace and slipped her hands beneath her shirt, delighting in Dauriel’s muscled back, uncaring of the sweat. “I love you, my empress,” she replied, boneless as Dauriel held her, thighs trembling, cunt aching. “And I approve of your method of consummation. You’ve been hiding this from me all along?”
When she looked up, Dauriel smiled, exhaustion etched into her blushing features. Her eyes had rimmed in red. “There never was time before. And I didn’t know if it would be too strange for you.”
“So you waited until we were legally bound so I couldn’t leave?” She let the statement linger, just long enough for Dauriel’s panic to manifest upon her darling face. Tallora laughed, grinning like a fool at her love’s palpable worry. “I’m teasing, you silly thing. That was wonderful.”
Dauriel pulled her close. “I hope you know I don’t actually only see you as—”
“Hush. I love knowing you find me attractive.”
“Yes, but while I’ve seen many fine asses and tits in my life, none of them were part of quite so witty and wonderful a woman.”
Damn Dauriel and her precious smile. Tallora rolled her eyes, her blush hot against her face.
Dauriel kissed her cheek and laughed. “I can show you a few more methods of consummation, if you’d like.”
Tallora’s body ached, yet by Staella’s Grace—she wanted it all. She bit her lip as she nodded, then giggled when Dauriel sprinkled her with a shower of kisses.
Tallora awoke to soft breathing and gentle streams of light through the parted curtains.
Her wife slept, sprawled naked on her back, and Tallora curled around her, content to savor her heartbeat.
Tomorrow, the ships would set sail.
Tomorrow, Dauriel would leave. And they might never see each other again.
Tallora swallowed back tears, determined to push those horrid thoughts aside. Dauriel slept. She desperately needed it, so Tallora remained still, simply basking in her presence.
She ached, a muted pulsing lingering between her thighs. The strap hung up in the washroom, cleaned of pleasure. They, too, had bathed, and Dauriel’s scent remained subtle and perfect upon her—something rich, something warm, and the subtle, ineffable aura of sweetness Tallora was told magic brought. The world turned beyond, oblivious to Tallora’s crumbling heart. She slid one hand to rest upon Dauriel’s sternum and contemplated today, refusing to think a moment beyond.
What would they do on this final, blessed day?
The minutes passed in near silence, Dauriel’s breathing soothing to her mind. When a hand fell atop Tallora’s—the one between her wife’s breasts—she looked up to meet a sleepy gaze. “Good morning,” Tallora whispered, and on Dauriel’s countenance was peace.
Her empress smiled, her sleepy eyes half-lidded. “How long have you been awake?”
Tallora merely shrugged, then snuggled closer, placing a kiss on Dauriel’s shoulder. “What would you like to do today?”
“Besides this?”
Tallora grinned. “We can do this as long as you’d like, assuming you have breakfast sent up.”
Dauriel placed a lingering kiss into her hair. “Realistically, I have meetings. Final preparations for tomorrow. But as my wife, you’re welcome to join me. The council can fuck themselves.”
“Dauriel . . .” Tallora sat up, scooting so her bare chest was pressed against Dauriel’s. Her fingers traced invisible lines along her wife’s face. “I’m going to be selfish and ask you to forget all that. Stay with me today. Please. It might be our last.”
When Dauriel’s hand cupped her face, tears welled in Tallora’s eyes. “My first duty is and always must be to my people. My second is to you.” A wry grin cracked across her face. “My council is very near the bottom of the list, and they’ll survive perfectly well without me. I’ll defer all decision-making to Khastra.”
Tallora beamed, and Dauriel’s smile matched. “What shall we do, then?”
“I’ve always wanted to see the Painted Cliffs of Tholheim. The Valley of Neoma is traditional for Solviraes newlyweds. I also hear Chaos’ Sorrow is a spectacular sight. It’s a cliff all the way in Zauleen.”
“I’m sure all of those are wonderful,” Tallora teased, “but we have a day—not months of travel.”
“And I have a father who can channel the Silver Fire into inter-planar travel.”
Tallora waited for the jest, but when Dauriel’s countenance remained the same, she laughed. “All right. So anywhere we’d like.”
“Where have you always wanted to go?”
Tallora thought a moment, then whispered, “Anywhere I’ve ever wanted to travel to is below the sea.”
“What about a beach, then? You can show me your world.”
Dauriel smiled in earnest, her endearment infectious. Tallora blushed. “There’s a beach in the far south—south of Moratham, even—where they say the sand is pure white and the water is as crystal blue as the sky. It’s called ‘Cove of Callaria’ My father promised to take me when I was a little girl, but a lot of dreams fell away when he passed. I think it would be wonderful to go with you.”
Dauriel kissed her, lingering at her lips as she whispered, “Get dressed.”
Tallora scrambled to obey, habitually selecting a corset, before Dauriel stopped her. “You won’t want that on a beach. May I pick something lighter for you?”
Tallora nodded, curious at Dauriel’s words, and when she emerged from her closet with a light, flowing gown, Tallora accepted it with care. “This is lovely. And it’ll fit without underclothes?”
“It technically is an undergarment, just a fancy one,” Dauriel teased, and she helped her put it on.
Once Dauriel had also dressed, far more c
asually than her title would typically allow, with her billowing shirt and worn boots, she said, “There is one task we may wish to oversee first.”
Tallora glanced to the open closet door. “Oh?”
“Yesterday’s plans fell away. Kal and King Merl still need to be sent home with instructions.” Dauriel looked to the rug beneath the bed, subtle shame in her demeanor. “But I’d like you to accompany me, if only to reassure them that you’re alive and well.”
Tallora nodded, unwilling to ask what precisely had been said the day before, lest she poke a festering wound. “I’d be happy to speak to them,” she said, her smile reassuring and bright.
When they approached the menagerie, Dauriel’s hand rested upon Tallora’s waist. The empress stopped at the door, her deliberate steps quieting as she stole a single breath.
“I’ll talk to them,” Tallora said softly. “All you need to do is loom menacingly.” Her wink brought a small smile to her love’s face. Tallora took her hand; they stepped inside as equals.
Kal immediately swam to the edge of the tank at their approach, his eyebrows raised at their intertwined fingers. “Tallora, glad to see you’re safe.”
“I was at the temple,” Tallora said, and then she spotted King Merl lurking in the background, glowering at the empress. “And I come with news.”
She explained it all—the plan, the ships, Ilune’s aid, even Dauriel’s purpose in it, though she refrained from mentioning the sacrifice, lest her heart break. Kal listened with utmost interest, nodding at the appropriate intervals. “And so we need you two,” Tallora said, “to lead our people to safety before the armada arrives. By any means necessary. The future of our people depends on it.”
“Absolutely—”
“Whose plan was this?” King Merl finally swam forward, ire in his stare. “Solvira’s? How do we now this isn’t a trap?”
“It was my plan,” Tallora spat. “I care very deeply for the safety of my people.”
Merl glared past Tallora’s shoulder, to Dauriel lurking behind. “Don’t think for a moment that I trust you.”
“Then don’t,” Dauriel replied, and Tallora fought a grin at her utter indifference. She wondered if the king had ever been so dismissed in his life. Judging by his sneer, she doubted it.
“Just as likely,” Merl continued, “we’ll be fed straight to the leviathan’s maw—”
“I don’t have to let you go.” Dauriel’s damning phrase lingered; when Tallora looked back, she saw no smoke, but it in no way lessened the threat. She held a powerful stance, arms crossed as her silver gaze bored through the magical barrier. “I will send Kal alone. He’s a far worthier ruler than you.”
“Then you’ll be exactly the sort of tyrant this traitorous slut claims you aren’t!”
Tallora’s eyes widened at the remark, though not for offense—she watched Dauriel’s composure twitch, her jaw suddenly grit. “Perhaps you’re right,” Dauriel replied, the first hints of smoke escaping her mouth. Tallora saw her grip on her arms tighten, and she wondered if Silver Fire could burn fabric. When she glanced at Kal, his expression matched her own. “I rescind my vote, lest my reputation be so horrendously sullied. Instead, I shall defer to my wife. Empress Consort Tallora Solviraes,” she cooed, and Tallora adored that wicked glint, “what say you?”
Tallora grinned at Merl’s horror, his eyes nearly as wide as his slack jaw. Kal also appeared appropriately shocked—but not unhappy, to her relief. But business was at hand, and Dauriel was quite sincere, she knew. Tallora’s amusement faded as she studied her king—but was he? What was a fallen king to the empress of the world and her wife? “The only traitor I see here is you,” Tallora said, fists clenching. Merl had condoned the release of the leviathan, he had tortured Harbinger for his own gain, and had chosen to risk his people’s lives. “He can stay here.”
Merl rushed to the edge of the barrier, stopped by the undulating water. “How dare you!”
“How dare you?!” Tallora cried, fury suddenly spiking. “What kind of hubris must you have to release a monster onto your own people?! Countless people are dead! My mother’s blood is on your hands! There was never a risk to Moratham; whether they knew Yu’Khrall could be controlled or not, it was our people standing as the barrier, not theirs—”
She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. When Tallora glanced back, a victorious smirk twisted Dauriel’s lip. “Gods, you are perfect,” she whispered, and Tallora released a sigh, her anger seeping out. Dauriel looked to Kal. “You’ll be sent back alone to warn your people and lead them to a prosperous future; your father will be returned once the matter is done to face whatever justice the Tortalgan Sea would grant him. My father will create a portal for you. Solvira will offer what aid we can, once Yu’Khrall is dead.”
“Thank you, Empress Dauriel.” He looked to Tallora and smiled. “And you, Empress Consort Tallora.”
There was finality in the phrase. Tallora thrust her hand through the barrier and clutched his own, as close to a hug as she could give. He covered hers. “Congratulations on your marriage.”
“Be safe, Kal,” she replied. “Save our people.”
When she released him, she felt a lingering sense of peace. Dauriel suddenly swept her feet from beneath her, instead holding her in her arms. Tallora gasped, then laughed as she was carried from the menagerie and once away, she kissed her wife on the cheek, noting her glower. “Dauriel—”
“No worries, wife.” Dauriel scoffed, careful as she placed Tallora back onto the ground, helping steady her. “What matters is he’d cower like a dog if I ever thought he’d be stupid enough to fight my claim to you.”
“He wouldn’t fight—”
“Shh,” Dauriel cooed, malicious intent in that salacious grin. “Let me fantasize.”
Tallora rolled her eyes, allowing Dauriel to lead.
* * *
Dauriel packed a bag full of towels and clothing, then detoured to the kitchen, demanding a basket full of food for a picnic.
The cooks, of course, scrambled to obey their empress’ request. Tallora held Dauriel’s hand all the while, overjoyed to simply share her presence.
Ilaeri was found in his study, signing paperwork. Eniah sat on the floor, drawing a loose interpretation of a cat upon parchment.
And when Dauriel told him her terms, he didn’t argue. “You’ll be leaving us to sort out this mess alone?” he said, sounding nearly bored.
“I will. And you’ll help, or—”
“Or my position is forfeit, I know,” he replied, resignation in his uninterested voice. “Where are you going?”
Before Tallora could answer, Dauriel said, “You’re not fighting this?”
“No need. I fully believe that you’ll sack me if I don’t obey, dearest daughter.”
There was little love in the title. Still, when Tallora told him the name of the beach, he was able to identify it on a map.
Within minutes, he had summoned a portal within the study. Tallora’s stomach lurched in its presence, but Dauriel seemed unaffected. “Take this,” Ilaeri said, offering a strange, smooth stone. “Ignite it with Silver Fire once you’re ready to return home. Then I’ll know to find you.”
Dauriel nodded, accepting the gift and placing it into her pack. “Thank you. You’ll hear from me at nightfall. Or later.” She grinned at Tallora. “We shall see.”
Without a farewell, she took Tallora’s hand and walked her through the portal.
Tallora stood among a sea of stars, floating like she might beneath the ocean. But then, the scenery solidified; her feet touched sandy ground in tandem with her stomach lurching from nausea.
The air smelled of salt and ocean spray. Gone was the winter’s chill—here, the sun shone cheerily upon a beach of sand as white and blinding as Tallora’s hair. Rock formations blocked the beach from the rest of the land, though the foolhardy could likely try to scale them. Vibrant green plants grew near the cliff’s base, thinning as they approached the beach until there was me
rely sand. And the water, as crystal blue as the sky, was clean enough to see the rainbows of fish within its waves.
Dauriel offered a wistful smile as she set down their things. “It’s beautiful—What are you—?”
Her confusion likely stemmed from Tallora herself, who had already removed half her dress. “We’re all alone,” she said, not shy to reveal her breasts to the open sea. When her dress was a pile upon the sand, she spread her arms wide, offering her pearlescent body to the sun. “How I’ve missed the sea.”
“You’re adorable,” Dauriel said, and Tallora ran for the ocean, her heart yearning for its familiarity.
Instead of bolting to the beach, she climbed up a rock formation, scaling it with ease on her nimble feet. She stood atop it a moment, basking in the sun and spray before diving into the sea. The cool water enveloped her; her legs felt first of jelly and then they were sealed—when Tallora opened her eyes, she saw her magnificent pink tail and laughed from pure joy.
She swam in view of the beach, waving at her dearest wife who stood shirtless and struggled to remove her boots. “You like me in pink, right?” She flicked up her tail, a spray of water rising with it. She swam nearer to the shore, the sand cushioning her torso as she emerged. But her tail—or most of it—remained beneath the waves, and so she kept it.
Dauriel ran to her, holding down her breasts with her hands—a sight Tallora laughed to witness. “Look at you, Mermaid,” Dauriel said, coy and assured as she revealed her body. She placed her hands on her hips; Tallora rolled over, the water lightly lapping her revealed breasts. “As lovely as when I met you.”
“You mean when you kidnapped me?”
Dauriel winked and took a step into the water—then immediately withdrew. “I was expecting that to be cold.”
“It’s perfect,” Tallora said, using her tail to pull her into deeper water. “Now, come on. It’s my turn to hold you.”