Light and Shadows

Interrupted, Again

The table in Renathal's Sinfall room had clearly been carved for Denathrius. It was large enough to serve any Venthyr as a spacious bed, though whether it could be considered comfortable was up for debate. But the Maw Walker was making no complaints as she lay back against it and spread her legs temptingly. Renathal let his fingers enjoy the slick wetness she presented him, and the little whimper she made when he slid them inside.

He had wanted to take her like this, right here, since the beginning of their affair. He was not sure why. The table did not have any particular significance, except that it was where Renathal worked, and the thought of the Maw Walker laid naked across it had made the hours of tedious paperwork more bearable. Now, said paperwork - so meticulously organised - was scattered about his usually pristine workspace and the floor around it, victim to the Maw Walker's thoughtless swipes as she searched for something to hold on to.

Her hips rose instinctively to meet his hand, but the way she wriggled restlessly and scratched her nails against the unyielding wood, Renathal knew it was not his careful fingers she wanted inside her. The Maw Walker craved the deepest, most primal parts of him, and he was addicted to her desire. But tonight, he was going to make her wait. He wanted to take his time, commit this moment to memory.

Because he could. He could do whatever he wanted now. Denathrius was defeated, and no one could stop Renathal from having his way anymore.

Not really, of course. They had scant minutes before one or other of them was missed. The party upstairs celebrating Denathrius' downfall had been wrapping up when Renathal and the Maw Walker made their escape. And this was hardly the end of the rebellion's efforts. There were still so many important decisions to be made, a thousand next steps to think through. Any moment now, he was sure, someone would be sent to his rooms to locate the two most important people in Revendreth, and would find one of them spread out wantonly across the table and the other with half his hand pumping lazily in and out of her.

The only real difference was Renathal no longer cared about being caught.

"Renathal, please!"

The Maw Walker scrabbled insistently at his abdomen, demanding to be sated; her blunt fingernails combing through the little trail of fine blond hair. Renathal's satisfied smirk was born of his victory and his desire. The only being the Dark Prince of Revendreth answered to anymore was his realm's Nightborne saviour.

Eyes glowing amber with wicked fire, Renathal withdrew his hand and brought his slick fingers to his lips. He savoured the heady, exotic flavour, and the Maw Walker's broken moan as she watched him.

"What do you want, dearest?" Renathal asked in a teasing rumble.

In answer, the Maw Walker pushed herself up, and slid her hips to the edge of the table. She reached longingly for Renathal, stroking the planes of his bare chest. He had removed his armor and shirt, but left his trousers just to annoy her; his impossibly buoyant spirits putting him in that sort of mood. But the Maw Walker could play that game as well as Renathal, or better.

She leaned in until her lips met his and murmured, "I want to come around the Prince of Revendreth's perfect cock," knocking the affected breath from him momentarily.

Grabbing her face with careless claws, Renathal tugged the Maw Walker's mouth to his, his tongue searching out the taste of her words. He was distantly aware of her fingers fumbling his belt with eager haste, pushing metal and cloth away to free him. Her blunt nails carefully traced his length, as though she might somehow hurt him.

Renathal's low groan held notes of triumph. In this moment, he doubted anything could hurt him ever again.

He kicked the last of his clothes away, anticipation making him shiver. For the first time since he had dreamed of deposing his Master, Renathal felt untouchable. And for the first time in perhaps his entire existence, nothing felt out of his grasp.