Wooden floorboards creak in the early dawn light as Shirayuki enters the pharmacy. She smiles, opening the door to greet any of the other early pharmacists, only to find that it is empty. That’s right, she remembers, walking past rows and rows of prepared medicines and books, almost everyone went out the night before to celebrate the changing of the seasons. And normally, she would have joined them. But… a blush curled its way across her cheeks as a bashful smile spread across her lips.
It was maddening, she thought. She didn’t understand how anyone got anything done after they married. All she could think about was a rough tongue against her pulse, rougher hands skimming across her stomach and back, the way he flexed underneath her nails as she cried out…
Shirayuki shook her head rapidly, trying to clear it. It was hard enough escaping their bed this morning. Obi had almost won with his insistence, his touch and voice robbing her of all good sense, but she had to work. She couldn’t keep showing up late to the pharmacy with untidy clothes and mussed hair. People were going to lose confidence in her. Not to mention, she didn’t think she would ever get used to the giggles and sly remarks when she finally did stumble in.
Taking in a deep breath of determination, she closed the door behind her. Deciding to get a head start on their backlogged orders, Shirayuki grabbed the top order on the pile beside Garrack’s desk. Pursing her lips, she headed towards the storerooms to get the necessary supplies.
The room looked a little less organized than what she remembered, as if people were more hurried the day before and didn’t put it up correctly. She sighed, setting her order down and proceeding to set everything back in its place. When she was moderately satisfied, she skimmed her fingers over drawers, pulling out what she needed. Koko grass… roka…. jackberries…
She almost dropped the jackberry drawer, letting out a short yelp. The store was absolutely infested with maggots. She quickly grabbed a cloth to cover her hand and extracted the entire drawer from the shelf. Peering inside the cubby, she saw no sign of cross-contamination, but couldn’t rule it out. Deciding that disposing of the infested store was the first step, she left the storage room with a notation on the clipboard regarding her discovery, and took the drawer to the room down the hall to be cleaned.
Shirayuki glanced out the window at the early morning light and counted the days in her head. The jackberries should still be potent enough to harvest, she thought, and they grew in the mountains right outside of town. But not for much longer. She would have to finish up here and go harvest before the day got too late.
It would also be nice to get some fresh air, too. To clear her head. It sometimes felt that she hadn’t been outside since her wedding.
Nodding to herself, resolved in her decision, she completed the task at hand and left a note on her desk informing anyone who came of her plans. Stopping by the coat closet, she grabbed a pair of field boots and a long hooded cloak, before leaving the pharmacy as empty as when she arrived.
Deciding that the day was pleasant enough, and the path near enough, she opted to walk the short distance to the trail where she knew jackberries grew. Crossing town was a simple task, and she nodded at the guards at the city gates before crossing the fields towards the mountain trail. The air was crisp and clean, and Shirayuki drank it down, feeling the cold seep into her lungs, clearing it of musty air. It was still early enough for frost to be covering the grass in the shadowed places, but dampness coated the edges of her skirts and cloak as she crossed the field.
Right at the edge of the tree line, she felt a shift in the air and goosebumps raised on her skin, even before she felt the warm air lick against her neck, “Where are you headed, my lady?”
Shirayuki smiled, feeling a pleasant tremor run through her as she turned her head slightly to look up at him, “The jackberries were all spoiled,” she explained, “I need to collect more before they are all gone.”
Obi let out a small hum. His eyes are on her throat, she realizes, and she fights down a surge of desire. Really, she needs to work…
“You should be careful, my lady,” he says, closing in on her space, forcing her to turn towards him before taking one step back, and then another, “there are wolves in these mountains.” She feels the hard bark of a tree against her back and draws in a breath, her basket slipping from her fingertips. He has her pinned, one of his legs pressed between her own firmly. His nose is at her neck, breathing her in, before he whispers against her skin, “…and they are ravenous.”
She bites her lip, swallowing down a sigh that wants to escape her. “You’ve taught me enough,” and she wishes that her voice was firmer and not this breathy gasp. He shifts his weight against hers ever so slightly and blood surges beneath her skin, hot, “…I should be able to fend them off if any should appear.”
He pulls back, looking down at her lips and his smile turns predatory. “Then please… don’t leave the trail, my lady,” he whispers, leaning in to ghost his lips against hers. She shudders, her eyes fluttering shut. What is this power he has over me? she wonders, hazily. He pulls back, and she remains still, eyes closed, waiting for the next touch, the next slide of skin against her own. But she realizes a few breaths too late that the air around her has become empty.
She opens her eyes, looking around in a daze and, seeing no sign of him, lets out a shaky breath. Her head thuds dully against the tree, her whole body tingling. She’ll never be free from this, she thinks, bemused, as she breathes the cold air deeply into her lungs in an attempt to cool the heat under her skin.
After a moment, she reaches down and picks up her abandoned basket with shaking hands. Reorienting herself, with a new sense of purpose to burn off the fire he stoked in her by scaling the mountain, she sets off.
The air is cool enough in the mountains to help with the flush of her skin, and before long the burning in her lowers from a flame to a mere ember. Still… troublesome, but manageable. Half way up the mountain, she spots what she needs in a clearing within eyeshot of the path. Excellent, she thinks, her boots crunching branches and leaves underfoot as she takes a step from the well-worn ground and into the forest.
There’s not a lot left at this time of year worth harvesting, and she has to move through several bushes to get even a quarter of the amount that they would need before the next season. Time passes without her noticing, and before she even realizes it, she has moved farther away from the path than she originally planned.
When she finally looks up from her task, she panics for just a moment as she realizes that she can no longer see the way she came, before settling. It’s okay, she tells herself, taking in a cleansing breath. She’s made this mistake before. It’s annoying, and it’ll take longer than she originally planned, but she has been working in the woods for years. She’ll find her way back home, path or no.
Carefully balancing her basket as to not lose her precious cargo, she starts moving down the mountain, taking care to find solid purchase before each step. It’s slow going, for the ground is soft and thick with decomposing leaves and fallen trees, and before long, she feels a little winded. Stopping to rest in a little grove of trees, she sets down her basket and reaches to her side to grab her canteen. Taking a sip of water, she stands in the middle of the little grove and notices how pretty it is. The sunlight dapples through the trees, casting the autumn colors into a riotous display. It’s pleasant and peaceful and she thinks for a moment how nice it was to get lost, if she could have this moment.
For a while, she just soaks in the warmth of the sun, listening to the happy chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of wind in the trees. But when the wind stops, she feels static moving up her arms. Too late, she realizes that the air has become heavy. Eyes are on her. Shirayuki’s eyes snap open just as she is pulled back against a burning heat. Her breath escapes her in one gasp as she feels an all too familiar flush moving across her neck.
“I thought I told you,” she feels hot air against the shell of her ear. Her eyes flutter shut and she melts into the solid form that is behind her. Hands, long and limber, slide under her cape and up her dress until they are cupping her breast through the fabric, “that the woods were a dangerous place?”
“I’ve been safe” she insists, the words coming out more like a whimper as the low embers flare brightly. “No wolves in sight.”
His lips curve into a smile against her cheek. “I don’t know about that,” he murmurs before bending down to gently suck on the nap of her neck.
She can’t stop the low moan that escapes her throat. “We can’t,” she protests weakly, some semblance of sanity fighting through the fog of lust. “People might hear us,” she breathes, licking her lips as his tongue licks across her pulse.
The answering puff of laughter is hot against her neck, “Maybe they’ll hear you, my lady…”
She opens her mouth to retort, only for it to turn into a flighty breath of air as his thumbs rub across her nipples through the thick of the gown. Teeth, sharp and pointed, nip at the tip of her ear, and she lets out a little moan, covering his hands with her own to press them down more firmly against her.
Shirayuki hears a sharp inhale of breath at her boldness, and shudders in preparation. She feels her world rapidly spinning and suddenly her back is pressed against one of the trees she had just been admiring, her mouth claimed fully by his tongue. Answering fire with fire, she reaches up and curls her nails into Obi’s hair, arching her body against his. He lets out a moan, long and loud, and presses her more firmly against the tree. With more than a little satisfaction, she notes the hard need of him pressing into her stomach.
She writhes into him as much as his body lets her, drawing strangled noises from his throat. Obi bites her lower lip, and harsh breaths spills between the two of them. Shirayuki looks up and her green eyes are trapped against his amber. He releases her lips, forehead pressed against hers, the thrum of their desire drowning out time and everything slows down for just a moment. Electricity snaps between their bodies, feeling as if they share everything between the two of them, even their own blood, and the rest of the world dissolves as their breath comes into sync.
Something snaps the stillness between them and they are suddenly clawing at one another, wild, teeth and tongue and nails pressing into the other. She has no idea how she’ll explain the marks when she returns home. On either of them.
His hands are pulling up her skirts and she gasps into his mouth as he roughly shoves her bloomers down over her hips and let them fall to the ground. His fingers massage her hips, skimming the crease between her legs, but not in a substantial way; they are only there to drive her mad. Her fingers press harder into his scalp in response, unforgiving, as she bites his lips and presses her hips towards his hand.
His hands, which previously teased, sink into the flesh around her hip bones and he stops her, pressing her firmly against the tree. She whines, feeling the cool autumn air caressing her skin, touching her in the places where she wants him.
His mouth breaks away from hers, pulling back to look at her and seems spellbound by his work; and she is just as much. His pupils are wide, just a bare sliver of gold circling them, hair mussed far more than normal, and pale marks have already begun to form across his skin.
“My lady,” he growls, sinking to his knees. Her eyes widen and she stares down at him. He can’t… here?
His eyes are sparkling as he looks up at her, an impish tilt to his lips. She feels his fingers tracing her ankle, her calf, and then suddenly he has thrown her skirts over his head and has disappeared beneath them.
“Obi,” she breathes, her fingers slipping against the material in an effort to grab ahold of him. She feels wet heat against her inner thighs, punctuated by sharp tiny slides of teeth as he moves closer and closer to his goal.
The feel of his tongue sliding between her legs has her knees dissolving, but he catches her, his fingers spread across her thighs, keeping her upright. He groans a little against her, the vibrations making a broken cry escape her lips. She can feel herself being lifted, her legs coming to rest over his shoulders, and she arches hard, trapped between his mouth and the unforgiving strength of the tree behind her. Shirayuki can feel his hands, inexpressibly gentle for the wildness in their lovemaking, against her thighs and they are pushing her open wider. His thumbs press against the side of her lips, opening her further to his mouth as he sinks deeper into her.
She can feel Obi’s mouth open and then close tightly around that little bundle of nerves between her legs. When he begins to gently suckle, she cannot find it in her to acknowledge or even care that they may not be the only people on this mountain. Her mind goes blank and she screams, her hands scrambling for purchase somewhere. The tips of her fingers scratch against the bark behind her, over her head, as he tilts his head and his tongue draws little patterns over her. It’s too much, and she is far too hot. Her abused fingertips slide through her hair, down her neck and pull at the frustrating little cord that keeps her cloak in place. It’s not much longer before she has her dress parted, the fabric slipping down over her shoulders and exposing her breasts to the cool air.
Obi’s tongue has become more adventurous in its dance between her legs, sliding inside her in an intimation of another part of his body that she wants more. She grasps her own breasts, running her fingers over her own nipples, massaging the flesh, attempting to mimic his hands, as breathy little gasps of air claw their way out of her throat.
She can already feel the trembling coming from deep within her as his left hand slides between her legs, two fingers burying themselves deep inside of her as his lips pull against her once in a long, strong suck. She arches into her own hands, his name on her lips, as pleasure rises to a crescendo, breaking against her in magnificence. And for a moment, she thinks she is part of that clear blue sky above her.
She vaguely feels him lowering her, her back sliding against the tree as she is set gently on the ground. She slowly blinks, looking down as he crawls backwards, emerges from beneath her skirt. His eyes and lips are smug, so smug, until he notes the state of her. Her hair cascading down over her shoulders, her cape pooled under her, and her dress undone. He must have realized what she had done while he was otherwise occupied for the sound that tears out of him is more wounded animal than man.
She looks at him in a daze, the aftershocks of her orgasm still flooding her body and her brain. But she is so pleased to give him such a start, to cause that sound to come out of him without even touching him. His slides up her body and latches on to her throat, his hands pushing her sleeves and the upper part of her gown down all the way until it is pooled at her waist. She’s still so sensitive that the action makes her cry out and clutch at him, the thick material of his clothes tight between her fingers.
A shiver runs through him, his hands desperately mapping every inch of her skin as if he hadn’t charted it countless times before. She feels her dress being tugged out from underneath her, only for her to tumble moments later, stomach first, on top of the fabric. Dully, she realizes that her dress and cloak have been laid out beneath her, protecting her from the fallen leaves and sharp little sticks that she can mutedly feel under the fabric.
She whines, arching back into him when his mouth slides over the curve of her ass, biting into the meat of it. When his fingers slide up her slides to the narrowest point of her waist, she moves to turn over so she can touch him, kiss him, but his hands tighten, his mouth dragging over the arch of her spine. She mewls, fisting her hands into the fabric beneath her. The front of her is so sensitive, rubbing against the weave of the fabric. It’s like scratching an itch with a feather: It only serves to inflame her more.
“Obi,” his name comes out as a little more as a high pitched breath, trying to push herself back against him. The rough knit of his clothes grazes against her in the most pleasing way.
“Shirayuki,” he answers against her ear, and her eyes roll back in her head, mouth opened in a silent moan from just how sinful he makes her name sound.
He pulls her hips up then, until her weight is resting on her knees and her arms scramble to push herself up, arching back into him wantonly. His answering groan vibrates through her whole body, but especially there, where she needs him the most.
His front stretches out on top of hers, his hands sliding down to rest beside hers and she can’t help but notice how perfectly he frames her, his chest solid against her back, his thighs flush against her own.
His hands can never stay still for too long, though, and she can feel them sliding all over her. Fire trails his fingertips as they move up her thighs, over her stomach and cup her breast. She looks down and promptly feels a wave of pleasure roll through her. Oh god… he hasn’t even taken off his gloves.
“Obi,” she cries, rocking back into him again, feeling his hard length twitch against the back of her thigh through the thick layers of clothes in response. “Please.. I need… I need.”
She feels one hand slide through her hair, tugging and bowing her neck back so his lips can seal over hers again. She cries against his mouth as his tongue slides against hers and his other hand moves between their bodies, unfastening his pants, and releasing him to press against her.
In one smooth motion he’s inside. All the way to the hilt.
She screams into his mouth, trying to rock back into him but his hand stills her. She writhes, impatience driving her insane with want, her breath shallow from the angle of her neck. His mouth and hand release her and her head drops, taking long gasps of air until his mouth latches at the base of her neck, his now free hand returning to cup her breast and pinch and tease her nipples.
She can feel his cock, unmoving, twitch inside of her.
“Obi!” she cries, edgy, trapped against his body. “Am I going to have to take care of myself?”
She feels his lips curve into a smile against her throat, a satisfied laugh rumbling through his chest, and suddenly he is pulling from her, almost completely out of her before he slides back home. The breath is knocked out of her, her elbows shaking in an effort to stay upright. When he repeats the motion, she can’t prevent herself from collapsing, her mouth pressed to the fabric below her. He follows, making fast, shallow thrusts that angle just right into her and make her cry out against the ground.
His back is bent over hers, the lowest part of his stomach touching intimately to her back, pulling her to him as he thrust forward and she keens, fingers fisting into tight balls as she bites into the fabric of her dress. He slides his shins over the gaps of her knees, adjusting the angle ever so slightly and she can’t keep herself from clenching down hard on him in response.
The answering growl that is ripped from him is felt in her entire body, and he moves faster now, deeper, thrusting with more vigor than she can ever recall him moving before. Her breaths are coming fast, letting out high pitched noises that she should feel embarrassed about making in the open like this.
His rhythm stutters, his strokes breaking into harsh discordant thrusts as the last part of their dance begins. His hand slides down and between the two of them, the slick fingers of his gloves rubbing against her engorged clit and she feels her body clench around him, toppling over. Right when she reaches the edge, she feels his teeth bite the flesh just beneath her shoulder and her world disappears into their song, their names tumbling forth from the others lips, their bodies holding tight to the others as flames engulf them both at the same time.
Shirayuki collapses fully against her blanket of clothes, and she can feel him catch himself on his forearms as not to crush her. Both of them shudder, soft whimpers escaping them until the tremors finally still. His body slides from hers with a long groan and she immediately misses him, but he plops down next to her with a long sigh and she smiles, feeling his heat against her bare skin.
When the worst of the fog clears, she lifts her head to gain perspective on her surroundings. The sun is high in the sky, and there is a small chill is just starting to cut through her overheated skin. She looks down at the fabric beneath her and laughs, throaty and full and satisfied when she sees the mess that they have made of her clothes. She glances at him to see him laying flat out across the fallen leaves beside her and it is ridiculous that this image of his golden eyes and rumpled clothes against the red foliage makes something twinge deep inside her.
He raises one eyebrow in question, unable to find his words yet, and she buries her face against her skirts again. “How are we going to get me back home with the state of my clothes?” she mumbles.
He lets out a breath of a laugh, reaching out to run his fingers through her locks clumsily, “Don’t worry,” his voice rumbles through her in the best of ways, “I’ll carry you the back way. We can leave in a minute.”
Her smile turns devious, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. She rolls over, bringing her naked body fully on top of his clothed one, and biting her lower lip as she slips her fingers under his clothing. Her little nails graze across the groves of his stomach and chest. Shirayuki can feel his heart begin to race, his satisfied face turning incredulous and then hungry. She pulls herself up so she can run her tongue over his lips, pressing their mouths together for a brief moment.
“What if,” she murmurs against his lips, looking up at his face from beneath her hooded lashes, “I don’t want to leave in a minute?”
~ ~ ~
Shirayuki stumbles into the pharmacy, flushed and in a different change of clothes, just as everyone is packing up to leave for the day. Garrack glances over her, the concern in her eyes rapidly turning sly as she glances over her shamed face and marked skin. Garrack glances down at the basket in Shirayuki’s hands and her eyes tilt mischievously.
“Must have been a rough day,” she comments loudly, and Shirayuki can feel the mortification sliding under her skin as everyone else in the room takes notice of her arrival. “Please,” Garrack continues, almost joyfully, “don’t work yourself so hard.”
If Shirayuki could just dissolve between the floorboards and disappear, that would be just fine. “It’s not a problem,” she mutters, swiftly disappearing into the store room.
The answering laughter keeps her hidden until the last person leaves for the night. The storeroom is sparkling the next morning, though.