Einar and Ani: First Night in the Long House

The baskak suddenly pushed away from her and slid on the floor, on his knees, between her legs. Ani rose on her elbows and stared at him. He had bunched up her skirt by then and was untying the second stocking’s ribbons that held it to her garter belt. He then rolled it down and suddenly kissed her knee. It was ticklish. He then rubbed his beard to it and threw an impish glance at her.

“This is such a prudent attire, honourable healer,” he murmured, dangling the stocking in a raised hand. “And the bloomers lack the lace. Is it your common garb?”

“The stockings and the underpants are practical and warm, and the dress is nothing but the healer’s robe. At least unlike you, I am fully dressed,” she bit back, and he guffawed. And then quickly jerked his tunic off.

Ani gave him an examining look over. The physique was indeed exquisite. Although his legs were not exceptionally long, the hips were narrow, and he had a wide chest, muscles bulging under toned skin, thick orange hair covering it. The torso showed many years of training, and Ani suddenly craved to run her palms over the pectoral muscles.

“Now there are only trousers left. Should I halt, or we are in a rush?” he asked, grinning toothily. “Or perhaps I should attend to my lady first?”

Ani lifted the second foot and pushed it under his nose. He snorted, but obliged and pulled the second stocking off. The garter belt followed. And then he lunged ahead, his dry hot palms slid up her thighs, making her jolt, and he grabbed the waist of her bloomers and suddenly they flew on the floor behind him.

He pushed his warm hips between her legs, and his hands pressed into the sheets, arms straight. He loomed over her, his eyes roamed her face.

“Are you a maiden, honourable healer?”

“No, but I know very little of carnal matters.” Ani lifted her hands and tentatively stroked the thews of his upper arms. She was stubbornly pushing misgivings at the back of her mind. The sensation of his warm skin under her palms helped. The baskak was eyeing her with laughter dancing in his bright greenish grey irises.

“Well, then we will need to make sure you are pleased, not to foil your new zeal.” He grinned widely and rubbed her right thigh lightly.

Ani was momentarily distracted from the slow fire spilling in her low stomach.

“You are quite verbose for a petty mercenary.” She studied his face. “I doubt you have read too many books. Where does your wordiness come from, my lord?”

He chuckled and started unlacing the bodice of her robe. While the long fingers of his large right hand worked, he leaned in and quickly kissed her neck. The warm lips slid down her throat, and she dropped her head back.

“We travel a lot, honourable healer. Some of us, who talk to your leaders, need to be convincing.” His mouth tenderly explored her jaw and the ear. “Helps with maidens as well.”

Ani twisted her head from under his caress and gave him an incredulous look. She wondered why he would taunt her with his previous promiscuity. She had to concede she knew too little about men to draw any sort of decisive conclusions, and she pushed her hands into his mane and pulled him to her lips. She felt him smile into the buss, but even this did not thwart her fervour.

The baskak hooked his fingers to the collar of her unlaced robe and slid back on the floor, pulling the garb after him. She lifted her hips off the fur covered bench helping him, and the robe followed his tunic.

And then he bent down and pressed his mouth on her lower stomach. She jerked, her fingers spasmodically curling around handfuls of the covers on the bench.

Several more, lighter kisses followed. Ani closed her eyes, trying to control her breathing through some sort of disgusting tremble in her stomach. Her legs were dangling off the bench, and she tried to plant them firmer on the earthen floor. Somehow the feeling of the dry clean sand under her toes was most prominent in her mind.

“Ani.” The voice of the Westerner was suddenly sober and soft, and she met his eyes. He was kneeling in front of her, his hands on the outsides of her thighs, nothing but a short chemise left on her. His soft linen trousers was tenting from his strained length, but all of a sudden she saw uncertainty in his eyes. “Do you want to go on?”

The question was simple and straightforward, and Ani felt confused.

“I do… Do you?” She felt immediately irritated by her own timid tone.

“It will not feel good if you do not desire it.” He gave her a small warm smile, and she pursed her lips. She did not enjoy to be patronised.

“I do desire it. Do go on.” She sounded irked, and he shook his head good-naturedly.

“Too much head is no aid in this matter, healer.” He then leaned in and started kissing up her stomach, pushing the chemise up her body with his nose. His lips were on her sternum now, between her breasts, and he shifted and kissed the side of one of her peaks. “You are too… sensible.” Kisses mixed with words. “You need… to stop… thinking…”

“I am not…” Ani breathed out, arching slightly on the bed, and then he helped her out of the undertunic, his hands first grazing her sides, then following along her arms.

She fell back on the bed, fully bare in front of him now. He still was not taking off his trousers, and she was intending to ask, when his mouth covered her quim. She gasped and squeezed her eyes.

She started appreciating his efforts almost immediately. He was tender, and thorough, and obviously skilled. She exhaled softly and gave in to the sweetness of the sensations. Her body was losing its rigidness, and she spread her knees wider. His fingers joined the caresses, and she emitted a throaty moan.

“I can stop now and move…” he muttered, taking a small pause and kissing her inner thigh for a moment. “Or finish this…”

Ani listened to the hunger and fire burning in her, and ordered, “Take off your trousers.”

The King chuckled and shifted with a rustle. She could not see what he was doing, her eyes still shut. And then he wedged himself closer to her, she felt his hot body between her thighs, and his member pressed into her folds.

She felt his lips and gently brushing hands on her breasts, distracting her from uneasiness that flooded her. She suddenly craved those very compliments he had mentioned before and she had rejected so decisively. She bit into her bottom lip, to hide its tremble, and almost angrily ignored her trepidation.

The Westerner was stroking her shoulders, kissing her collarbones, and then the pressure grew, and then he pushed in, in one confident forceful move. Ani sank her teeth into her lip harder, suppressing a cry. There was pain and strain, he was large, and as aroused as she was she was not prepared.

He halted, letting her breathe through the discomfort, and then she opened her eyes and met his. His irises were dark, she thought that perhaps such was the sea at storm, and then he smiled to her.

Malenka… What a brave little fish…”

He bent and scooped her into his arms, lifting her and making her sit up. She hissed, his hot thick length shifted in her, but then his hand lay at the back of her head, and his kiss was greedy and deep, and her legs as if without her will went around his hips tightly. She was supporting herself on straight arms behind her back, he pressed one hand near her as well, and he started moving, rolling into her, deeply but slowly. Ani gulped air with an open mouth, overwhelmed, and then his mouth caught hers, and she grabbed him around his neck with one arm.

His busses and his deep thrusts were coordinated, somehow the same comparison with being a musical instrument popped up in Ani‘s mind, and the more accustomed she was growing to the sweet intrusion of his body into hers, the more her mettle was waking up.

He seemed to have felt the shift in her mood, and he pulled her hair gently, making her move away, and they looked at each other. He was breathing laboriously, his eyes were burning, and she had to admit she quite enjoyed that look on him. The ginger hair scattered on his shoulders, a thin coating of sweat covered the sculpted shoulders and chest, and Ani lunged ahead and pressed an open, greedy mouth to his neck. And then her teeth scraped at his throat, she felt the coarse stubble below the trimmed beard under her tongue, and she sucked some of the salty skin in her mouth.

Bogi, sostoy mne…” he rasped out. He then squeezed his eyes, and Ani shortly thought that he was clearly in less control now, and she rejoiced.

Pushing from him, she fell on the bed, and then she shifted, wrapping her legs around his hips, and digging her heels into him she opened more and moved closer. He growled, a mixture of some of his native tongue and animalistic snarl poured out of him, and his hands grabbed her hips, fingers painfully digging into her skin. He started moving sharply, his hips snapping, her body bouncing on the bench, some soft furs under her back. He continued to move into her in hard rhythmic thrusts, and she stretched her arms above her head, her fingers splayed, in acute vast pleasure. He then changed the angle, and she moaned. It gained her another bout of even deeper thrusts, and Ani wondered. She moaned loudly to see if it were to spur him more. His eyes flew open.

“Do not play, devichka…” he hissed through gritted teeth. “I know falsehood when I hear it….”

She suddenly laughed loudly – she could not remember a time she had laughed that unrestrictedly – but some sweet hum reverberated through her veins and tendons, and she arched on the bench, and clenched her inner muscles.

“I will stop… But I was not lying… much…” Her voice rang, sounding unfamiliar, lively and almost playful.

The Westerner rose, straightening his legs, she hummed approvingly, and he lay on her, his weight a welcomed guest, and he planted his elbows on the sides of her body, once again scooping her and pressing his chest to hers.

She understood his intent when with the first plunge of his member, some new, sharper pleasure bloomed in her quim, somewhere deep, in the core, and she moaned, this time earnestly. He murmured something in her ear, it sounded encouraging, and she listened to her sensations more attentively. He shifted some more, seeking something, and she understood he found it, when the first coil of future rapture heated up in her.

“Here?” he asked, and she could not answer, her voice gone, and she just wrapped her arms around his neck, arching into him. “Malenka rybka...” he whispered in her ear, kissed the lobe, and then he finally attended to the spot he had just mapped inside her.

The climax came in a wave of heat, and her head swam, and the world disappeared. An instant before it took her she praised herself for choosing the right lover, he masterfully led her through the growing pleasure to the white, bliding peak of ecstasy. And half an instant before it came, she bit into her lip again, to rein a scream that was trying to erupt from her lips.

“Do not hide…” he breathed out in her face, and she opened her eyes she did not know she had closed, and then her body quaked, and she moaned loudly, her nails sinking into his shoulders. Their gazes stayed locked, he watched her face almost greedily.

She gasped, and he lowered his head, pressing his temple to hers, her arms around his neck. One violent shudder after another ran through her body, and she breathed in shallow sharp inhales, her ears ringing, eyes almost unseeing.

Her legs and arms then grew limp, and she sighed. He was still immobile, and then he lifted his face and looked at her. She was too sated to guard her expression. Even his arrogant smirk could not tarnish her bliss.

“Alive there, little fish?” he asked, and she gave him an exasperated look. It was rather restrained, she was still enjoying little shivers of pleasure running under her skin.

“Quite so. And you?” she bit back, and he chuckled.

“I am choked, you are even tighter now.”

Ani’s brows twitched, in a slight unease and embarrassment from his directness. Apparently, he was no less open in his talking than in his actions.

“Shall we help me now?” he asked, tilting his head, and she waved her hand in the air dismissively, as if saying ‘help yourself.’ The baskak guffawed and started to move.

As much as Ani enjoyed this part as well, she was now capable of taking mental notes. She realised that before the Westerner had been concerned with her pleasure, his strokes had been aimed and almost calculative. Now he had closed his eyes, his hands grabbed her hips, and he kept on pulling her into him, fully enjoying their coition. In a few seconds she lost herself in the sensations as well, and then he sped up, and in a few harsh thrusts he climaxed with a low groan.

He fell on her, pressing his forehead into the furs near her temple, his breath coming out in raspy exhales. Ani was not certain what was the usual proceeding in such case. She did not know whether this occurrence were ever to repeat, so she decided to savour it. Her hands brushed at his nape and shoulders, she found his warm skin fascinating, and he shivered.

“I certainly do not feel dead now…” he mumbled, and she tensed. That was not what she expected for him to have on his mind at that moment. She had nothing reassuring to tell him so she kept silent, but then he lifted his face and she understood no reassurance was required. He was smiling, all his white teeth on display.

“You are a joy, little fish,” he exclaimed, and then gave her a firm, close mouthed kiss. She once again was not certain how to interpret his gesture and did not speak. He guffawed again.

“Just look at this somber brow! Are you back to your cold sober self, healer? And here I thought we were friends now.” His voice was sensual and flirtatious, and she pressed her lips.

“I do not think friendship naturally grows out of such pursuits. It can but does not have too,” Ani pronounced in a sensible tone, and he laughed again and pecked her lips.

“We should then work on our friendship some more,” he sing-songed, in a unfitting high pitched voice, and she first tried to stay serious but then snorted. “Here we go! Finally…” He gave her a very pleased smile. “A bit of laughter is the best medicine, healer. Even when one is dead.”

Ani jerked her brows in disbelief at his nonchalance regarding his state of decease, but he was already sliding down her body, kissing her collarbones, and she forgot to shake her head.

4 Comments


  1. // Reply

    Woah. holy. hannah.

    *fans self* where’s my handy dandy iceberg?


    1. // Reply

      Carefully, Wynni, you’ve already flooded half a planet from my fanfiction. Are you finishing it off ? 😉


  2. // Reply

    I wouldn’t mind meeting Einar in my dreams. Lucky Ani.


    1. // Reply

      He is delicious, isn’t he? But I’m still planning to make readers waver between him and Gosta 😉

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