Post by Lisa on Apr 5, 2010 12:27:49 GMT 10
Title: Mending Scars
Rating: R
Length: 601 words
Character: Wyldon
Summary: Kel’s insecurities reveal themselves at the most inopportune times.
“Is this all right, Keladry?” His hands slid beneath her breastband, and she nodded hesitantly. His lips trailed over her neck lightly, then down to her collarbone. She liked the way he leaned half his weight against her, in an attempt to not crush her.
As if any normal-sized man could.
“This isn’t your first time, is it?” he asked, pulling back so his dark eyes bored into hers, demanding an honest answer. She’d seen that expression so many times over the last decade; it was strange how context didn’t change one thing, except perhaps the way her heart raced.
“No,” she answered honestly. Not that virginity would be much of an issue for her. She had kept it a surprisingly long time, but when she eventually had sex for the first time, it was a practical experience. She hadn’t been overly nervous; she went to bed with a fellow one night, not knowing what it was like to have an orgasm, and woke up the next morning still not knowing.
In Wyldon’s case, though, she suspected that things would be different. And this made her self-conscious.
He was different from the other man she’d bedded; he was clearly more knowledgeable in the ways of lovers. Perhaps this was the benefit of seeking out a partner who wasn’t her own age. But the disadvantage was that he’d likely had more lovers than her. Dainty court ladies, who looked as beautiful outside of their clothes as they were when they were in them, unlike Kel with her heavy muscles and thick scars.
If there was any unhappiness from what he saw upon removing her shirt or breeches, though, Kel could not tell. When her flesh was revealed to him, his rough and large hands gently ran over her torso. He did not react to the sight of the scars from her fight with a centaur, to the various bits of dark, puckered skin that told tales of battles long over. His lips did not complain, but caressed.
Perhaps he looked at her crisscrossed stories the same way she did his. He had years of mementos of a life she understood and respected, and she very deliberately kissed each one of them. These scars were the things that made him who he was.
Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm, then the fine white scars along her fingers – the remnants of the griffin who had been in her care.
“He maimed me,” she said sheepishly.
“You’re the only one who could’ve put up with it,” he acknowledged with a chuckle. He released her hand and placed his on her hip, his thumb caressing her skin. She hadn’t realized that such a simple act could make her quiver. She wondered if his wife had been a larger woman, like her, or if she’d been as petite and delicate as her youngest daughter. Had her bones stuck out at her pelvis and collar, or had they softer, like Kel’s? Did he like curves, or did he prefer a woman with small breasts?
This was the problem with growing up with boys. They were free with their admiration of women, though they’d always been polite enough not to be coarse in her presence. But Wyldon… he’d always been attached and faithful. Which women did he find attractive? And how did Kel compare?
But when he lowered himself on top of her, and kissed her into breathlessness after carefully entering her, she realized it didn’t matter if she was the type of woman he preferred. She was the type of woman he loved, after all.
Rating: R
Length: 601 words
Character: Wyldon
Summary: Kel’s insecurities reveal themselves at the most inopportune times.
“Is this all right, Keladry?” His hands slid beneath her breastband, and she nodded hesitantly. His lips trailed over her neck lightly, then down to her collarbone. She liked the way he leaned half his weight against her, in an attempt to not crush her.
As if any normal-sized man could.
“This isn’t your first time, is it?” he asked, pulling back so his dark eyes bored into hers, demanding an honest answer. She’d seen that expression so many times over the last decade; it was strange how context didn’t change one thing, except perhaps the way her heart raced.
“No,” she answered honestly. Not that virginity would be much of an issue for her. She had kept it a surprisingly long time, but when she eventually had sex for the first time, it was a practical experience. She hadn’t been overly nervous; she went to bed with a fellow one night, not knowing what it was like to have an orgasm, and woke up the next morning still not knowing.
In Wyldon’s case, though, she suspected that things would be different. And this made her self-conscious.
He was different from the other man she’d bedded; he was clearly more knowledgeable in the ways of lovers. Perhaps this was the benefit of seeking out a partner who wasn’t her own age. But the disadvantage was that he’d likely had more lovers than her. Dainty court ladies, who looked as beautiful outside of their clothes as they were when they were in them, unlike Kel with her heavy muscles and thick scars.
If there was any unhappiness from what he saw upon removing her shirt or breeches, though, Kel could not tell. When her flesh was revealed to him, his rough and large hands gently ran over her torso. He did not react to the sight of the scars from her fight with a centaur, to the various bits of dark, puckered skin that told tales of battles long over. His lips did not complain, but caressed.
Perhaps he looked at her crisscrossed stories the same way she did his. He had years of mementos of a life she understood and respected, and she very deliberately kissed each one of them. These scars were the things that made him who he was.
Taking her hand in his, he kissed her palm, then the fine white scars along her fingers – the remnants of the griffin who had been in her care.
“He maimed me,” she said sheepishly.
“You’re the only one who could’ve put up with it,” he acknowledged with a chuckle. He released her hand and placed his on her hip, his thumb caressing her skin. She hadn’t realized that such a simple act could make her quiver. She wondered if his wife had been a larger woman, like her, or if she’d been as petite and delicate as her youngest daughter. Had her bones stuck out at her pelvis and collar, or had they softer, like Kel’s? Did he like curves, or did he prefer a woman with small breasts?
This was the problem with growing up with boys. They were free with their admiration of women, though they’d always been polite enough not to be coarse in her presence. But Wyldon… he’d always been attached and faithful. Which women did he find attractive? And how did Kel compare?
But when he lowered himself on top of her, and kissed her into breathlessness after carefully entering her, she realized it didn’t matter if she was the type of woman he preferred. She was the type of woman he loved, after all.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!