Lou Roth
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Chasing tail - a F!MC x Idren NSFW short
🕑 Added 2023-05-21 14:37:17 +0000 UTCIt started a few weeks ago with a breathless kiss in a hidden nook withing the library, both of you tearing at each others clothes before you were interrupted by a hushing librarian. And then the time where his cock had just slipped past your lips and someone had yanked at the door to the storage closet he had shoved you in. There was also the day he caught you on the stairs on your way down the turret, and with no one else around, he had stuck his nimble fingers down your pants and fingered you so thoroughly you could see stars. Right up until a group of guards had stomped down the stairs and Idrens fingers left you trembling for more, begging for it. He had stuck them in his mouth and licked them off like a cat tasting cream. And today, he caught you once more, shoved you into another nook and hooked one of your legs around his waist, pressing in close. Dressed for a mercenary mission, you were trapped beneath the bulk of his metal armor.
“You’ve been hiding from me.”
“Hiding?" You splutter, “I have not been hiding.” Your thighs clench from just how much you have been open to the idea of having Idren shove you against a wall and rut you like a wild thing, or bend you over a barrel, or...
Idren’s palm kneads the yielding skin of your thigh, in such a way that he must be thinking the same.
“So you have,” he says, and his lips drift so close to yours that you breathe the same breath. He pinches a lock of your hair between thumb and pointer with his free hand and follows it down, all the way until the sharp edge of his glove just barely grazes over your hardened nipple. “Every time I have a moment to spare, not drenched in gore or up to my head about the new mission, you are nowhere to be found.”
His hand trails down your waist and then up your thigh, the heat heavy through your skin. When he slips under the hem of your tunic and skirts his fingers along the edges of your cotton underwear, your lips part on a moan. Idren captures them with his mouth, rumbling as his hard gloves keep dancing over the thin cloth covering your slit, featherlight but cold, unyielding with steel. When he finally cups your sex, he makes the pained sound of a wounded man.
His teammate shouts from down the hall. “Come on. We’ll be late.”
Idren turns to hiss at the closed door. He turns back to you with a lazy smile, and kisses you with tongue.
“Nileas calls me puppy, you know? After the way I follow at your heel.” Another kiss. “I’ll do anything you ask of me, he says.”
You laugh against his mouth. “Puppy.”
With a growl, he kneads the flesh of your cunt, reminding you of his other side. The metal of his armor rasps against the fabric, and you swallow the enormous need to grind against his palm.
Idren, the bastard that he is, slows his pace even further, trailing his breath from below your ear down to the edge of your jaw, his cupped hand working in a lazy circle over the slowly soaking fabric of your panties. The pressure is divine, but not nearly enough. He chuckles against your throat as you fail to stem a whimper.
“I don’t think a puppy acts like this.” A curled, armored finger slips beneath the band of your underwear and the sharpened point of it traces the seam of your cunt. The cold metal resting against the heat of your cleft makes your head spin, your hands grasping the lapels of Idren’s coat with a white-knuckled grip. Seeking your mouth, he kisses you softly.
“Hurry the fuck up, Idren!” Now the voice is at the door. “What are you doing in there?”
Idren growls low in his throat, the curled finger tugging away; he rips the thin seams of your underwear, tearing the cloth straight off your body. The shock of his acting has you forgetting to mourn the loss of his hand, and instead you watch him, wide eyed, as he wads up the fabric and stuffs it into his pocket. He gives you a final, chaste kiss at the corner of your mouth.
“Three days.”
“Three days,” you confirm, rubbing your thighs together as cool air washes over your naked flesh. It barely stems the raging need you have to pounce on Idren before he leaves, to make him make due on the promise he whispered just a few nights ago, just in passing; he was getting drinks at the bar and leaned in to tell you that he will fuck you boneless before departing with a wink. Bastard. Now you are standing here again, quivering with need like aspen leaves in a light breezee.
Idren rips the door open and shoves his colleague away, protecting your flushed features from being discovered. As they walk away, your hand lifts to your lips, as if to savor the taste of him. Your head thuds into the wall behind you. Three days.
By the second day, your head and body can’t agree on anything. You sit to work through a stack of forms, but your gaze drifts out the window and you think of nothing else but Idrens breath washing over your naked skin. Your sweater rasps against your curves just like his calloused hands would. You jump at every opening of your door, hoping it will be him, wild-eyed and determined.
By the third day, when Idren is supposed to return from his mission, you are barely paying attention, living solely within the haze of desire that has fully occupied your mind. So much so that when your door rips open mid-day, and Idren stands there still covered in muck and blood, wild-eyed and determined, you don’t even take note of it until he has stomped over to you and thrown you over the shoulder.
Clapping a wide palm over your arse, he starts walking towards the bath. “Oh no,” he sighs, “I got my dirt all over you.”
“How terrible.”
“A tragedy. I’m afraid you’re going to have to shower with me.”
You laugh breathlessly as he carries you into the tiled room, an electric current radiating from the imprint of his hand, still on your ass. Placing you down on the cold floor and leaving you there to sway on your feet, he leans into the shower to turn on the heated water. It spills out from a large showerhead, already fogging the glass doors. After sluicing off his bare hands in the downpour of water, Idren turns to you, grasps your cheeks, and kisses you fiercely.
His tongue swipes silken soft against yours and all the tension you felt leading up to now just slides off your shoulders. You wind your arms around his neck and swallow his breath as he presses closer, tugging you forward with a firm press of his splayed palm to your lower back. You feel something wet and sticky seep through the thin fabric of your shirt, and part from the kiss.
“Idren!” You gasp in reprimand, stepping back to reveal your tunic, mottled with the aftermath of his messy mission.
Idren snickers. “Only one way to solve that.”
You suck on your teeth, but by the way he’s already working on the fastenings of his armor; looking at you with those hooded eyes that still sparkle with mischief, you have already forgiven and forgotten. And, your cunt clenches, you have waited so long for this that another batch of laundry won’t stand in the way.
Idren’s musky scent trails to you as his pauldrons fall with a clank to the floor, and he shucks his shirt with a single-handed pull, leaving his inky hair to fall over the hard panes of his pale chest. Your eyes trail the grooves of his sculpted abdomen, along the duny strip of hair from his bellybutton down to the edge of his breeches, where you watch him adjust his erection, and unclasp his belt.
“Continue?”
You nod absentmindedly, swallowed whole by the fact that he’s here now, ready to finally claim you as his. Your nipples stiffen through the fabric of your tunic, and you swallow thickly. You nod again.
He kicks of his pants and steps up to you, his cock heavy and hard- the shaft presses into your stomach as he grabs the hem of your tunic, drawing it up and over your head. Naked flesh meets naked flesh, and you shiver as his cock twitches against your abdomen.
Next, in quiet contemplation, he weaves his fingers through your hair, presses his lips to your mouth and whispers, so passionately it might be a poem.
“Say pretty please.”
A snort huffs past your lips and into his. “You’re insufferable.”
His hands slide down your naked waist and shoves your panties down to your ankles. He kneels with the motion, now face to face with your aching cunt. He does nothing but breathe, and it drives you up the wall, the heat of it. Finally, his mouth inches closer to kiss, but stops just as his lower lip touches the skin of your labias, and he looks up to you with hard eyes and furrowed brows.
“Say it.”
You give him a hard stare even though you yearn for nothing more than to muffle his words with a slight step, even just a light lean, forward. Your whole body pulses with need. There is still a streak of blood on his cheek and you don’t know where that’s been- and with that you find your out. Still, the words are breathless as you utter them.
“Get in the shower, you oaf. You have blood all over you.”
With a lightning quick swipe of his tongue, an electric pulse straight from your clit to your heart, he comes to a stand, grabs your hand and leads you to the shower.
“Fine." He growls. "But I will have it sooner or later.”
You titter into his back, following him willingly into the hot shower. Idren tilts his face toward the spray of water, and your hands wander to his cheeks, wiping the offensive stain with a tender swipe of your thumb. His hair plasters against his skin like swirls of black ink, even his lashes paint long streaks of darkness. Water clings to them in heavy droplets as he opens his eyes. His gaze is hardened with lust, his jaw clenching and unclenching.
His hand reaches for your breast- but he just grazes past with a teasing touch, grabbing for the soap on the shelf beside you.
“Insufferable,” you mutter, water trailing over your neglected nipples. His answering grin is a wicked, evil thing. He lathers up soap and begins washing himself, hands trailing slowly over smooth skin, a brow raised in smugness.
“Give me that,” you lean into him to grab the soap but he snatches it away from you, tugging you into his embrace instead. The movement has you stumbling and you cling to him for stability. Of course he takes the opportunity to trail his soapy hands all over your body, washing carefully; paying extra attention to your breast and thighs, never touching quite where you want him but for a stray pinch of your nipple here, another palming of your sex there. By the time he considers it a job well done, you are panting through your nostrils, your restraint teetering on the edge of completely crumbling. The slick between your thighs runs down your legs, and every drop from the shower ignites your skin.
Idren shuts the water off and your gut summersaults. Surely, he will give in now.
Your mouth waters at the sight of his straining cock, veins pulsing, the shaft twitching as your eyes take it in. Long, heavy, with a slight upwards curve. You lick your lips, and Idren surges forward to capture them.
Devouring, feverish, the wet heat of his mouth consumes you entirely. He opens the door from behind your back, having you stumble backwards as he steps out, his arm steady at your back. Once stable, you don’t keep your footing for long; Idren lifts you and growls, “Put your legs around my waist.”
You oblige, wedging the hardness of him between your open cleft and his stomach. You tense your thighs and leverage his shoulders to slide your slick over his cock, and relish in the broken moan he utters.
“Nymph.” He grunts, and takes the few steps towards the sturdy windowsill by the sink. Leaning back to catch your eyes with his, he bares his teeth; done with pleasantries. “Say it.”
Locked within his now pitch-black pupils, you defiantly go through the process again, grinding your hips in waves against his pelvis. He thrusts forward slowly, meeting you halfway, but just when his cock shifts in position and the flaring head of it kisses your entrance, he stops, his straining arms keeping you hovering there. Your nails dig into his shoulders as he presses in just an inch, flaring your walls with his girth. Your head lulls, eyes rolling with need. He growls.
“Say it.”
Your body is so heated, thrumming with the need for him to fill the aching emptiness between your spread thighs. He presses in another inch and your resolve crumbles, a low moan winding from your sealed lips. You try to maneuver your hips, press down, but his hands hold you steady, digging into your flesh with determination, though he too is shaking with restraint.
He makes to pull out, and you wail with the loss. You give in and exhale the words he wants to hear.
“Please, fuck me, Idren.”
He snickers, the bastard, and claims your lips with a lazy smile. “That’s my girl.”
He drives you down onto his shaft with a steady thrust, pushing in until he’s seated fully within you, making you both break into a broken, tortured groan. He lifts, plunges in again, withdraws, presses in, fucking you steadily as he breathes into your mouth. Trailing kisses over your throat, your breasts strain against his chest. The cold tile of the windowsill bites at your ass as he places you down, and the chill from the window seeps over your aching nipples as you lean back. Grabbing your waist, Idren still drives into you with a steadfast rhythm, and pleasure mounts, making your thighs tingle.
He snaps his hips and enters to the hilt, fucking you with small movements, never leaving the sheathe of your cunt. He hunches over, groans like a dying man, sucking one of your aerolas into his mouth. It sends a spike of pleasure straight to your clit, and together with the rubbing motion of his hips; white hot heat explodes from your core and outwards, your thighs shaking with the force of it.
Idren curses and takes your nipple between his teeth, his hips clapping against your skin with wild, erratic movements. Your cunt flutters against his pistoning cock, and with a final drive of his hips, his arse flexing taut, he chokes on a shout as semen shoots into you, the twitch of his cock spreading his wet heat within you.
For a long while, you just breathe, small movements and soft thrusts of his softening cock.
A droplet of water clings to his nose, and you kiss it away. “You owe me a tunic.”
He raises his eyes to yours, gives you a puppy-eyed look; eager to please.
Your head falls to his shoulder in breathless laughter.
Comments
Kelsey Lee
LOUUUUUUUU
honeylou
Oh goodness if this didn't put a silly smile on my face, thank you! :>
AceWitt
You absolutely have a talent for NSFW writing, I’m really excited to see more in the future
honeylou
I was beet red the entire time writing it 😂 Glad you like it :>
AceWitt
*fans-self*
