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She awakens in a haze, to the feeling of absolute burning .
To a scorching heat that rushes along her skin, to brush along the edges of her body, to tremble and pulse at the base of her belly.
She wakes to the feeling of want. Of yearning. Of something carnal and infinite racing down the length of her spine, easing her into something that yearns for something so utterly lost .
She wakes like this... and then - she searches for him.
With a trembling frame, it proves to be a quivering discomfort, Rhaya finds, to even open her eyes to gaze upon the brunt of the room, to see all the upended boxes and scant furniture; nothing really - but an emptiness and a bed - rustic and warm as the muted browns and tans of the walls were, it is not nearly enough to bring her any measure of ease .
Her clothes feel too tight, and her mouth all too dry, and it is all she can do to strip herself from it, as the light fabric rises over her head and falls somewhere on the ground - to leave her clad in naught but her panties and nothing more. But it is still far too little comfort, and even less relief, and as she rises from the bed, against a queer amount of dizziness that she wonders if it is a mere fever that ails her - or perhaps the beginnings of something more -
There is the briefest flicker of instinct that flares aloud in her mind. And then she is tugged onward, towards the sense of spice and wine. Something warm and delicious, as every ilm of her body lures her forward - mouth watering, the heat between her legs to respond, pulsing hot and heady and ready - for the man that she knew would be just beyond that door…
For she is an aching, wanting mess, and there is only ever one person who could hope to fix this for her.
Raha, for his part, is almost all too blissfully unaware. As was the norm of a Seeker, he was the first to wake upon the break of dawn, having left Rhaya to sleep off her exhaustion; one borne from the brunt of too many quests and not nearly enough time for herself - to be always giving too much to too many people, always looking out for the world more than her own more earnest desires.
And it was a wonder they would have enough time to take care of this - her not so newly acquired house, that she’d had far too little time to set up - for what was meant to be a relaxing weekend away from Scion business had rapidly turned into a swift unpacking of things that would turn said house into a home.
It’d been exhausting work, and they were not nearly finished, no matter how many boxes laid empty - the house itself was still a bit too clear and far too bare, yet it was enough that you could almost see the foundations of it taking shape. Enough that you could imagine waking up in the morning, curled up in each other's arms. Enough that you could imagine coming home to it, and making a family - making of it a real, honest to goodness home .
A thought of which was to be had for another day, Raha would remind himself, as he resumed putting together a meal for his sleeping lover - nothing but sandwiches and fruits, because of course no one would dare - him included - put him in charge of trying to cook anything. The house was barely filled as it was, the mere thought of him burning down what was already inside of it - Twelve fortend -
And it is all the wayward thought that he manages to have - before the scent of something heady takes to his notice. A mere sniff and a perk of his ears, as the aroma sets a pall just sharp enough to make his body tense, a shiver to rush down the length of his spine, intense and hot and absolutely all too -
Tempting .
He calls her name - before he knows she is even there -
“Rhaya -- ! ”
A swift turn of his head, towards the opening of the doorframe, and - oh, by the Twelve .
How he feels every thought he’s ever had so far run so blissfully
entirely
quiet.
“Rhaya…”
The stumbling of his voice, as it quivers upon the image that she showcases. A veritable display of sex and heat, are but the first words to cross his mind, the second a most raging want - as crimson hues rushed over the fairness of her unbarred flesh - glistening in the sunlight as they’d grazed over the sweetness of svelte curves and fair skin, her heaving breasts where pert nipples flushed a most beautiful pink, her slender stomach, that would flow into the curves of her hips - to where her heat would pulse steadily between her legs - for where the scent of her would emanate, potent and rousing and already dripping - to a mark of wetness already set against the fabric along her thighs.
Her eyes are a measure of the most vibrant, velvet blue, gazing at him from beneath the rustle of mauve locks - and it is all he can do to stare .
He is honestly not quite sure - how he still manages to breathe.
“ Rhaya… w-what are you…” his mind that dims with the words, even as he attempts to look upon the bare room for something of which to cover her - for even with the house so impossibly empty and the suns rays ever so effusively warm -
The mere thought that anyone could see her as they’d walked past the house, the concept that anyone could peek in to see - their Warrior of Light, his Rhaya - utterly undone and unguarded like this -
It is enough to make a most feral instinct within him rise, carnality and possessiveness dredging into the scope of his being, as he attempts to breathe past the need that suffuses his lungs; his desire to take her where she’d stood and worship her, to mark and to love her and to indulge in every single semblance of her - at such various odds with the absolute concern that he could feel rushing alongside it.
Yet he takes to the latter more. For as much as he possibly can, he tries with all that he has to not let it consume him.
And in the absence of anything that could possibly help, he strips himself of his own shirt instead, a lightweight white shift - and as he edges forward - in endless hopes to cover her, as he still focuses so hard on his concern, on making sure she was well taken care of, on making sure that she was okay - “Let’s cover you - there’s not even any curtains on the windows, my love, this is too -”
“No - no!” And she spurns his offering like it’s fire and poison, wrenching it from his hands only to clamber directly into his chest instead - Raha stumbling to a stop as she presses herself upon him, all bare skin and soft curves that feel deliriously hot to the touch, scrambling for a measure of his self control as she mewls, purrs, whimpers against his very chest - to barely hold himself still upright as she whined , ever needy -
“Not your shirt, Raha… just you - please, just you. I need you - to take me - I need you to make this stop -” Her words that are entirely incoherent at best, yet he would attune to the notes of them all the same. As his hands fit upon her waist, to hold her steady as the absolute aroma of her near drowned him - fragrant plum and the hint of spiced cinnamon - and then just beyond that, something more exquisite, delicious, to be emanating from just between her thighs -
The most beautiful, lovely thing, that made his very mouth water .
The realization comes upon him, far faster than he can explain.
For the biological understandings of his race would not be denied.
“You’re in heat.” he utters, the words themselves feeling leaden upon his tongue, as he feels natural instinct creep up on him, to press upon the bounds of his very being, as he grapples with the concept and what so much of it would come to entail -
A Miqo’te’s heat, after all - he knows, he understands - could entail nothing but the most potent of all ardor.
The intensity of what it did to her, to the impulse of what it did to him - for it is all as a haze that feels so tangible against the skin that you could nearly taste it, nearly feel it. And it is easy enough for him to respond, yet for as much as he’d wanted to line his hands against every ilm of her body, as much as he’d wanted to press her close and wrap her thighs against him, to take her there upon the bare floor if he’d had to - to lay claim and to stake his very essence, upon every gorgeous semblance of her being -
There would be something shrill that would come to hold him back.
For no matter how much it rattles through him, in a way that makes his fangs throb, his cock pulse, every measure of heat that sinks along his core, to swirl into the indelible urge to sink into her flesh, and mark her as his -
He knows it is a very extreme line to cross. Intense, and severe, and definite; and he would not cross it without knowing that she was utterly aware of it.
“Rhaya,” he whispers, an unsteady hitch to his voice as he gently pulls her away from his chest - to which she only mewls louder in response, clinging to him with a desperation that he could not help but feel -
“Rhaya - a moment, my love, please ,” his own plea, as he feels himself rush ever more frenzied in response; a sharp line of heat to sink between his thighs, to throb against his smalls, for where she’d so clearly pressed herself upon him so impossibly close , “you’re not - entirely here with me right now and I just - if you would please - ” his hopelessness, pressed against her hair as he attempted to get himself back in order - to tamp down every ilm of his desire, before he’d do something they might both regret -
“ No .” she whines again, fervent against his chest even as he growls, his hands clinging hard to her hips - as by the sheer delight of what she was doing to him does his body force an answer in turn, as he thrust his clothed length against her core - to the feel of him throbbing thick and hard and heavy - to the feel of them both breaking in turn, as a measure of deep pleasure rushed down the length of their spines as their tails thrashed , “ Ah , Raha ... so good… no waiting - take me now. I need you - want you - inside me -”
A snarl that pulls itself from his lips at her words, as extracting himself seems impossible - so he drops to his knees instead, her surprise forcing her to let him go - as he moves to press his lips against the line of her belly as he throbbed, to force himself into some semblance of calm even as every ilm of him raged forth in answer -
She is ever the most delightful sensation, even when all he can feel of her is this .
And he is all adoration and ardor as she keens, as she runs her hands through his hair as his hold her still, as he manages a peek from beneath his rustled locks - made to gaze up upon her image - his molten red hues blazing alive in sheer absolute lust -
For he is so, so close to where she pulses, an exquisite aroma of pure indulgence so close at hand - so prime and ready and made for the absolute taking - and yet still would he offer restraint, and whisper upon her once again,
“Rhaya - look at me. Look at me, my love, and breathe .” A soft fervent whisper, as he’d pleaded for her to focus , to shift her eyes upon him as he'd held her steady, as every sensation dragged her into the midst of all that she’d yet yearned for - yet he’d hoped with this that she might find a reason, a concept - a desire - for which to center -
Something that takes so much longer then he’d expect, yet when her eyes coast upon him finally - to find them still drenched in something heady and bright, so beautiful that he could not help but sink into them -
It is with a gaze more lucid, much more aware - then the image she’d made of herself before.
And she takes a deep breath, and runs her hand through his hair - and even against his own iron clad steel, can he still not help but want, but yearn -
“You’re in heat, Rhaya -” he utters, his voice raspy and low, “A very, very potent heat. And I know you understand what that means for you - and what that would mean for me. Please, my love, before you ask for anything more - for me to take you, for me to breed you... please for a moment look beyond this and consider - what you are truly asking for.”
For there was ever so much to think about, and not so much time to explain. Yet no matter the differences between the Keepers and the Seekers in their tribes - this was but one instinct of theirs that would align in only the most coordinated of ways.
To be no mere quenching of lust, he was well aware of what he would no doubt strive for in his endless desire of her satisfaction. His own instinct would rise against hers, his Seekers blood would run claim to his body - to demand nothing less if not his full devotion to the possession that he would command of her own. A Tia he was, a Keeper she may have been - but she would feel the full brunt of a Nunh’s desire to take her - if she’d allowed him so much as this.
This he hopes she understands, as she breathes upon him with a look he cannot parse, to the feel of her hand shifting beneath his chin, made to raise his gaze upwards, until all he could look upon was her.
Her eyes of such soft velvet blue, as she’d sighed as she ran a hand along the base of his ear, his hair, his mouth - as she pressed herself tighter against him, feeling herself sink ever further, ever deeper, with every moment that’d passed...
And Rhaya is well aware of how deeply entrenched in this she is. Well aware of how much she desires him, and what that would mean for her - how only he would be the one to ease from her this heat - this tangible, levin strike thing - that makes her feel as though she were burning in the depths of absolute want - the desire to be taken full and hard against his own fervent touch…
She is well aware of what she is asking for. She is well aware of what it would take.
And yet, would she ask for it still.
If not for her body, then most definitely for her .
As she presses herself into his grasp, as she mewls out her words, desperation tinged on the edge of every note, “I know what I want, Raha - I know what I need, and what I’m begging you for.”
Her fingers pressed against the swell of his lips, as he moans her name, scarlet hues as radiant and scorching as any inferno one could ever hope to say,
“Please.” she begs, as she opens her legs - the better to let him smell her, relish her - as earnest and eager as she is most frantic and wanting - “Would you take me, Raha? Would you help me through this? Please, my love, I don’t think I can -“
Her words stuttered on a gasp, as a snarl is pressed against her skin, as he’d dragged his hands against her thighs, the glint of claws and heat welling up inside -
He is everything devoted and infernal in that very moment, and as he lines his lips against her - to breathe along every delicious ilm that she was -
He growls,
“Rhaya, you could not make me want to stop .”
The merest flicker of his intent, and it is enough for a flame to rush alive in the wake of it. For the sound that he makes as he gets to his feet is one that dredges from the depths of his very soul - as he presses his lips against hers, in a display of love and absolute passion, as he grasps her thighs to wraps her legs around his hips - to hitch her upon him as he makes to the door; footsteps scrambled and clumsy against his every intent to get her safely ensconced into the bedroom, for where he could love her and take her in full -
Yet she drags herself against him, in a way that makes every single one of those intentions fail, to have each of those goals crash and fall where he’d stood.
His is but a broken snarl as he drags her against the wall, but it says so much more of his state then he can possibly explain.
A flash of fire and fury, as he presses himself against her, his hands delving to press upon the curve of her breast, the plush of her thigh - as he ruts his clothed length against her, as she breaks into a mewl upon his lips - radiant and weeping before he’d even start - words incandescent in nature, like music to his ears as he grounds upon her - wanting and heaving and begging for yet more, more, more -
“Rhaya,” her name breathless upon his tongue, mouthing against her neck as he pinches his digits along her swollen peak - to the sound of her begging, ever encouraging him as she arches her chest into his grasp - “Rhaya, where do you need me? Where do you want me the most, my love? I’ll give you what you want - I’ll give you all of it -”
“Inside -” she moans, at no desire to tease, desperate as she’d pleaded with every line of her body, as she ground against him, the heat of her - the slick of her - to be made dripping against his touch - “ Inside me - now, Raha - please, do not wait -”
The tone of her voice is not made for patience, and Raha has no intentions of it - as he hitches down his smalls and tears upon her own, the garter to fall easily upon his grasp - lining himself against her in a way that’d made his hips tremble, all too fervent and needing - yet still all too conscious, all too aware of how this would undoubtedly go -
For this desire to take her, once he was slipped full inside her heat... he would fuck her within an ilm of her life, there was no doubt.
But still, still -
As his hands coasted upon her skin, would he come to breathe upon her lips a devotion - “I love you.” he whispers first - absolute and foremost, as he looks into her eyes and feels his heart thrum with the emotion, so desperate for her to know - even as his throbbing length dipped upon her slit, so eager and wanting, to find its place within her body - he had to make sure she knew,
“I love you, Rhaya - and for anything that follows after this, I would have you know that.”
The words uttered, for where she trembles against his touch - her mouth scorching as she took to him, wrapping herself upon his body as he keened - low and heady, wanton and desperate - the taste of sweetness upon his tongue, as she used the wall for leverage - if only to drag her hips against his -
“I love you too.” she murmurs, just against his lips, “I love you always, my Raha - and through all of this, there is no one else I would have take me - no one else I could want to have me -”
The flicker of her eyes - radiant cerulean, like glistening oceans and tempestuous waves, delved in nothing but lust and love, and absolute trust ,
“Please - do not hold back.”
The flicker of a smile - cheeky, charming - so edged with everything hot and sexy -
“Oh, my love, I’d have no plans for it.”
The truth of what he says, before in the next is he slipping in - his cock to be thrust full against her heat - intense and hot and heaving, to the sound of twin groans as they nearly broke upon each others bliss. The brunt of him shuddering sharp and heavy against her frame - as she’d clenched around him, so tight and eager and wet - her body so deliriously full of him, so designed to take him in, like puzzle pieces being slipped into place.
And it is all he can do to keep himself in any measure of control at that, as every flurry of flame rushes upon him, as his hips tremble with every breath - so attempting to get used to the sensation, to manage even a modicum of his senses against everything she would so work to have him lose -
But Rhaya is all breathless anticipation, so rendered fraught by her own need. All of this for what she whimpers for, as she hitches herself along his body, the sweetest, most tantalizing rock of her hips, as she shifts her pleasure upon him, in a movement utterly designed to make him come -
“No, Rhaya - wait -” hands to dig along her hips once more, in a bid to make her cease - for she was pure simmering heat pressed upon him in every exquisite way, and he would have just a moment to center himself - lest he accidentally come undone where he’d stood,
“ No waiting, Raha !” A low hiss, already incensed at his words, a reminder of everything she'd literally just said, to be felt against the enticing sway of her body, as he struggled to keep a hold of his uncoiling restraint - “you told me - you said - you’d give it to me -” she whimpered, “give me what I want. You said you’d let me have it - “
“Rhaya,” he breathes, on stumbled breath as he tried to keep himself afloat, “I will - I promise I will, but I need you - to just - for a moment, I beg -” lest he spend himself right there, lest he come apart, without having eased even an ilm of her wanting -
For which she does not take to with any measure of agreement - growling against his skin as she continued to move, grinding against him, forcing him to take and to feel as she’d clenched hot and tight over his throbbing cock, begging and wanting for every drop of his cum...
But his is an uncoiling fury, and as he could feel himself start to unravel - he knows this cannot stand.
“Rhaya!” hands forcing her hard against the wall, as he’d finally pressed her still, to gaze upon the depth of her eyes as he growled, “ Stop .”
“No!” she sobbed, “No, Raha, give it to me - you said - you said you would -”
“I will, Rhaya - but unless you wish me to spend myself and leave you unsatisfied , temper yourself for me, my love - or I fear I will have nothing to fuck you full with at all.”
Nothing. Nothing is the word he uses, and in the depths of such an intense heat, it feels akin to blasphemy.
“Nothing?” she asks, as her eyes quiver with something almost close to tears - as his words fulfill their intent, as she shudders to a shuddering stop with a whine. “But I want… ”
“Patience, my love.” A soft kiss pressed against her neck, against the line of her sweeping pulse, as this momentary reprieve is all that he needs to get himself in order - “I will give it to you - all that you want. But remember that this is to be for all of your pleasure -”
A faint shift of his hand between them, to where her heat would pulse between her thighs, a sharp, deliberate drag of tight circles against her throbbing pearl - a whisper of intent against her skin,
“And mine would be to ensure that you absolutely get it. ”
And it is sweetness and symphony, the first of one of many orgasms, as the feel of him thrust hard and heavy inside her melds with the pleasure of his touch - the way that she breaks and shudders against his cock enough to tease him in its promised oblivion - yet he stands strong against his desires all the same. The pulse of his balls quiver in their absolute desire to spend, yet he keeps himself tense and full, hard and heavy, as he watches her break first beneath his fingertips - the faintest semblance of relief - before he aims to ravage her outright.
For this was to be to her desires. And he would ensure he’d give her all that she’d want and more.
“Now then, my love,” he whispers - as she slowly, slowly comes back to herself, her frame shaking, her eyes vivid and brilliant and alive - “now I can fuck you. Be good for me, would you?”
And it is no warning, no warning at all, before he takes to a most feverish pitch between her legs, his hips snapping against her own as her mouth opens on a soundless cry, tensing over his frame as she shudders still over sensitized, over wrought, helpless as she was placed against the fever of his sudden intensity - sharp and broken as she’d cried out - exquisite and intense - “Oh my gods, Raha -!”
His name, such a delighted invocation upon her tongue, so much more than enough to make him shudder, as his desire fractures into something more honed, more passionate - as he thrusts himself into her body, sharp and fervent, powerless and feeble, against the weight and pull of his own tempestuous need. The desire to make her scramble and yearn as she’d arched against the wall, as he’d felt himself sink into every delicious ilm of her, to take him so seamlessly, like she was made for him - like she was made for this.
To take him, as perfectly as she ever could - in all the ways he could ever dream.
And it is so much just her that is under a heat, he knows it, yet as he looks into her eyes and feels his body respond - instinctive and yearning as he is called towards her pleasure, to graze into her own, as every coil of him hummed in attunement to her, as every motion of movement begged of him to take her - like this, like always - until he could spend himself full inside her body, and feel the way she’d clench -
He was not in heat, he didn’t think. But he was going to fuck her like he was.
“Come for me, Rhaya… come for me, and take me - and I’ll give you what you want.” his words whispered feverish upon her skin, as she writhed and shuddered against him, her hands scrambling upon his shoulders, nails scraping upon the line of his flesh -
“It’s all for you, my love - all for you.” his eyes molten and scarlet as he’d gazed from beneath his fringe, now sweat soaked against the heat rising between them, against the pressure he could feel gathering along his balls, delighted as he'd aimed to take her apart - right then and there, until he could feel her slip undone around him once again -
And he is all sharp, fervent pacing - as he gazes into the hue of her eyes, as he watches her face begin to slacken, her mouth opened on endless breaths beginning to open and close in fervent answer - “Raha - Raha -”
“Rhaya - my love -” a breathless utterance of his own, as he nuzzles his lips against her skin, as his hips thrust faster and harder, as the coil begins to rush down into the brink of them both - overwhelmed and all consumed, by the feel of their coursing desires -
But he was not done, he knows. Even as he feels her begin to rise and crest - the intensity of her pleasure to unfurl in a display of absolute loveliness, as she pulsed against the heat of his cock, as she fell apart - in coursing waves and glorious want -
Oh gods, Twelves take him.
He was not done.
Not at all, as he spills himself into her core, as he relishes in the way she mewls, as she clenches around him and presses herself tight - to get all that he’d had to give, and to yet still yearn for more -
All of which he would gladly give her, as in a haze of his own pleasure does he still find a way to love her - lips pressed against her own as he delights in the feel of her clenching against him, as he holds her close as he manages a stumbling path back to her room - never once separating, never once easing his grip - as it is to the gratitude of an almost empty house that he makes their way back to her bed -
Back to their bed - to situate her upon it, as he pulled apart - if only just to breathe -
Yet he would find himself struck breathless again all the same.
For she is the most beautiful, most undone image, all ragged debauchery made of flushed skin and soft, gorgeous sweetness - and she is beautiful and lovely, in every single depth of her most wanton, most ravenous heat.
This - he whimpers for - as he runs his hand against the curve of her cheek, as she mewls against him, and presses herself soft in absolute devotion -
“My love -” he whispers, “You are perfect. Exquisite. The most gorgeous, wonderful thing -” and he would be lost in the depths of her, as he leaned down once more to kiss her - even as his hands shifted upon her body - to mold against her breasts, to line against her hips once more - as he could feel himself already pulsing again against her heat - the thrum of him hard and heavy as every line of him would ever respond to her in answer -
For she is sex and heat and his every affection, and he would mark this upon her with every ilm of him thus.
“Can you take me again, my love?” he asks, as he nudges her thighs open, “Can you take another load of me - right inside, just like you’d asked?” the words breathed as he ran his fingers along the smooth line of her belly, right down to her dripping core - to where they still connected so seamlessly together - already ready to take her apart once more...
For this heat. This desire - would not end on a single, solitary want.
But as she manages a laugh in breathless answer, to grind upon his body with every line of her radiating in absolute beauty and delirious lust -
“All of it, Raha - I would take you all.”
He finds so much - that for every thought that he could ever manage -
He would never find a single reason to not want this.