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Esha was used to hearing the sounds of bandits chatting amicably as she travelled through their caves, through the shadows and out of their sight. There was a pair below her right now, a Breton girl, discussing the group’s last haul with an Orc. She went for her bow, and was about to nock an arrow when she spotted the chest ahead. There would be no issue in leaving them alive for a few moments more, and she signalled to Marcurio to leave them alone. The Imperial crept back, and Esha rolled over to the chest and drew out a set of lockpicks.
“Reckon the chief will get us some proper gear soon,” the Orc commented.
“Not that you need it,” the girl drawled. “I swear your chest is made of rock.” There was a pause. “Along with your head, you thick fuck.”
Esha wanted to snigger at that, as she slid a pick in and the tool below it, rotating it. The pick broke immediately. A master lock then. Oh, this was going to be great fun. It had been a while since she’d come across one of these and her skills were getting rusty without the challenge. Behind her, she heard the quietest of laughs from her Imperial hireling, and she shot him a glare.
“Maybe he should get you some proper robes,” the Orc snapped. “You’re useless with magic, might as well have your ass on display.”
A well-placed blow, apparently. The Breton gasped in shock as Esha found another pick, rotating the tool a little better this time and pulling it out immediately when she felt tension.
“At least I know magical theory, and I don’t rely on just hard muscle to get things done!” she spat. “Hard-headed brute.”
“Ain’t the only thing hard, sparklefingers,” he taunted, and now the gasp from the Breton had a tinge of something else entirely. Esha paused.
“Like you’ve got enough in that head of yours to think of anything beyond killing and rutting anyway,” the Breton finally managed. The rustle of armour and cloth met Esha’s ears and the Breton let out a muffled moan as the Orc apparently kissed her with a fair amount of skill. She looked down to see a small, fair-haired woman wrapped in the dark, muscled green arms of an orc bandit in nothing but metal and furs. Said robes, a blue drape that made a shapeless mess against her small but shapely form, were quickly being ripped apart by the huge, rough hands, and Esha raised a hand to her mouth as she tried to look away, back towards the chest.
She shot Marcurio a look, but the Imperial was looking away, his face a tad darker than usual. With a flushed complexion the Redguard turned her attention back to the chest, finally managing to move the pick without finding tension. Slowly, she slid it around, messing with the lock until it clicked open and the lid sprung up. Her ears prickled as a slick sound met her ears, and, against her better judgement, leaving the chest open, she peered over the ledge again and bit her lip. The Orc had buried one thick, harsh finger inside the Breton’s soft depths, and was fingering her mercilessly. The woman was limp in his arms, shuddering intermittently, and Esha wanted to look away, but she couldn’t. There was a bed nearby, and the Orc placed the Breton down on it as his fingers continued to work in and out of her. She came with a shuttering cry as Esha leaned against a stalagmite and gulped as quietly as she could.
Without realising it, the Redguard’s hips began to gyrate against the stonework, and she paused when she noticed what she was doing. She fell away from the stalagmite as the Orc grabbed the Breton’s hips in a merciless grip and eased himself inside her. A hand on her shoulder jerked her from staring, and she looked up to see Marcurio, his eyes burning with something. But when he knelt by her, one hand on her stomach to press her body against his, kissing her passionately, she understood that it was lust, and melted against him. The mage was sturdy for someone unused to weaponry, and he provided a solid support as he slid his fingers down the front of the Guild leathers she wore. Esha hadn’t even realised she was wet until Marcurio peeled the leather down her legs and slid one of his warm fingers inside her. His left hand ghosted over her stomach, slowly undoing the buckles as he pumped his finger in and out of her.
“You don’t need to be brutal to get pleasure from a woman,” the Imperial murmured into her ear, as Esha watched the Orc thrusting hard into the Breton from behind. Marcurio manoeuvred his hand so that one finger was rubbing against Esha’s nub, sliding another within her and watching the Redguard quiver. The leather cuirass fell open and the hand that had been undressing her cupped her breast gently. Esha stifled her noises. Even though both Orc and Breton were making enthusiastic sounds, she didn’t want to risk being louder and getting them caught. Especially not now the Redguard would literally be caught with her trousers down. But quieting herself was very difficult, especially now that Marcurio was concentrating his strokes on a swollen spot on her walls that was quickly growing more sensitive. The gentle pressure of Marcurio’s teeth on her made her moan softly, and she clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut in delight. He gently grasped her hood, pulling it away from her head and running his fingers into her hair. Oh gods, she was about to come, and he muffled her cries in his lips.
Esha fell against the Imperial, who was muttering under his breath, and she made out words. He was setting up wards, she realised, her gaze still on the pair beneath them. The Breton was now on her back, legs over the Orc’s hips. He had her by the waist and was pounding her relentlessly. Esha watched the woman mewl in delight as Marcurio held her steady, kissing slowly down her body until he was lying on the cave floor. Esha barely had time to realise what he was doing before he was settled between her legs, his tongue scoring a hot line between her lower lips as he kept her from falling over. He lowered her, letting her rest some of her weight on him as he licked her. How was she meant to keep silent like this?! Gods, this was too good. She clapped her hands over her mouth once more as the mage massaged her legs, his right hand sliding two fingers back into her. She was so sensitive, and at this angle he could curl them properly, warm hands stimulating her until her body was quaking. She felt him run sparks over the digits and quivered in delight, squeezing down on him. Slowly, Marcurio’s mouth left her, and, confused, she felt him moving her back, his hands fumbling with something, and he removed his fingers, sliding her down onto his cock. He pulled a bracer from his arm and handed it to her as he bit down on the other one, both his hands now free, as were hers. She’d ridden a man before, but this was different.
She watched the Breton come as her own orgasm rippled slowly through her, and the Orc flipped her over again, ramming the bandit with a series of animalistic grunts. Marcurio’s thumb found her clitoris, rubbing over the sensitive nub, and the other braced against her hip as she placed her palms on his chest. Together, they rolled her back and forth over Marcurio’s length, the Imperial’s face curling in desire as he gazed up at her. Periodically, her gaze shot back down to him, and internally the Redguard cursed that she hadn’t asked him earlier. Teeth clamped around a bracer, face coiled in pleasure, he looked a delightful sight. She opened up his robe and was rewarded with his wiry body, still coiled with muscle but not as dense as many of the Nords she had met. Hair was scattered everywhere, and the ones at the base of his cock were almost stimulating her. Her hips sped up as the Imperial thrust upwards, rolling his body into her. Unlike many men, he was clearly not a passive lover, and he eagerly assisted her in their activity. She dropped her bracer, removing the one he had his teeth on to press their lips together harshly as he grabbed hold of her pert ass and fucked her.
Marcurio didn’t last long inside her, but he managed enough that he got his thumb back to her nub and rubbed her into a good, spine-tingling orgasm before he arched up and spilt inside of her. Esha lay against him for a few moments, and the Imperial stroked down her hair to her back and trailed his fingers down her spine before he finally helped her to get up. He and she quickly redressed. The Breton was screaming now – the Orc still wasn’t done, and Esha hurried over to the chest, collecting the valuables inside and pocketing them. She picked up her bow and nocked an arrow as the Orsimer finally came with a roar. He fell against the Breton, and Esha shut one eye, aimed, and let the arrow fly.
As they left the cave, she found herself unable to look at Marcurio, but the Imperial cupped her jaw, and kissed her softly.
“I’m enjoying journeying with you,” he told her, and kissed her again.