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“I, uh, I suppose I just thought—” She stopped, and let out a nervous giggle. “I mean, if you wanted to, that is. My apartment is just upstairs.”
Osric’s smile widened, and he took her hand, raising it to his lips. “I would like that very much.”
Hali’s heart was pounding as she fumbled with her keys, the metal suddenly slick in her grasp. She couldn’t believe this was happening, that the brooding, mysterious elf she’d been daydreaming about for weeks was about to spend the night with her. She only hoped she could live up to the fantasy.
At last she found the right key and unlocked the door, a rush of warm, musty air enveloping them. She led Osric inside, and as soon as the door closed behind them, he was in her arms, his lips hungry against hers.
His hands were everywhere at once, fumbling with the laces of her tunic, tangling in her hair, and Hali’s skin felt like it was on fire, every nerve alight with the crackle of magic. She helped him shed his own tunic, her fingers tracing the intricate patterns of his tattoos, the hard, sculpted planes of his chest, and he shuddered beneath her touch. He was so beautiful, so impossibly beautiful, and Hali couldn’t understand why he’d ever hidden himself away.
“Osric,” she whispered, the name a prayer on her lips, and he pulled her into his arms, his body hard and lean against hers.
“I’m here,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”
It was a promise, and Hali clung to it, letting it chase away her doubts and fears. She guided him towards the narrow staircase that led up to her apartment, and they stumbled up the steps, their laughter echoing in the darkness. She led him to her bed, the worn quilts and threadbare sheets suddenly feeling far too plain for a night like this.
He caught her hand in his, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes searching hers. “I don’t want to rush you. This, uh, this is my first time.”
Hali’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, the raw honesty of his confession. She’d known, of course, that he was inexperienced in matters of the heart. But to hear him say it, so openly, so trustingly—it only made her love him more.
She pressed a kiss to his lips, a silent promise, and he melted against her, his arms coming around her. They clung to each other, their bodies pressed close, and Hali felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and sure. It was hard to believe that this was the same man who had haunted her dreams, who had set her imagination on fire with thoughts of danger and romance. But there was a beauty in the reality of him, too, in the way he looked at her as though she were the only thing in the world, in the way he held her as though he never wanted to let her go.
They kissed and kissed, their lips never tiring, their hunger never sated. She marveled at the way he moved, so controlled and precise, every motion a carefully calculated strike. It was hard to reconcile this Osric with the stoic, brooding elf he usually was, but the same intensity that drew her to him before now blazed with a different kind of heat.
His kisses trailed down her neck, her collarbone, and she arched into him, a soft moan escaping her. She was on fire, burning up with need, and she felt as though she might never be satisfied. She wanted him, all of him, wanted to feel his skin against hers, to lose herself in the heat of his body.
“Osric,” she whispered, her voice thick. “Please.”
She wasn’t sure what she was asking for, only that she needed him, needed this, needed to feel him close. And to her relief, he seemed to understand. He nodded, his eyes dark with desire, and with trembling hands, he helped her out of her clothes.
They clung to each other, skin on skin, and Hali felt as though she were living out one of her favorite romantic tales, the ones with the star-crossed lovers and the happily ever afters. But this was better, so much better, because this was real. This was Osric’s hands on her, his lips on her skin, his body moving with hers, a perfect, flawed, beautiful dance.
His skin was a canvas of glowing runes and scars, each one a story in a language she didn’t understand. Hali traced them with gentle fingertips, her touch leaving a trail of fire on his skin. He shuddered, his breath coming fast, but he made no move to stop her. He only watched her with those dark, hungry eyes, and it made her feel bolder, braver, as though she were the one in control.
Hali’s world narrowed to the here and now, the chase and the Obsidian Circle forgotten in the wake of their shared passion. Osric’s smoldering intensity met her whimsical passion, their bodies moving in a harmony that felt both familiar and new. Hali’s vivid imagination, usually so vibrant and alive, paled in comparison to the reality of Osric’s touch.
“What is it?” she whispered, suddenly afraid that he regretted this, that he would pull away now, leaving her heart in tatters.
Osric shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. “I just . . . I want to make sure I’m doing this right. I don’t want to . . . disappoint you.”
Hali’s heart melted at his words, at the vulnerability he allowed her to see. She reached up, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. “Osric, you could never disappoint me. I’m just... I’m just glad you’re here, with me.”
He seemed to relax at her words, and Hali felt a warmth bloom in her chest. Slowly, as if he were afraid she might bolt, he lowered himself between her thighs, his eyes never leaving hers. Hali felt a shiver of anticipation race down her spine as Osric gently guided her back onto the bed, his eyes dark with desire. He settled between her thighs, his body heat already making her skin tingle with anticipation. She blushed at the sensation of his eyes on her, a mix of arousal and vulnerability coursing through her veins.
Osric seemed to sense her self-consciousness, and he leaned up to brush a tender kiss against her inner thigh. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that made her tremble. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”
His words emboldened her, and Hali closed her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations that were about to wash over her. She felt his breath against her most sensitive parts, and her hips arched involuntarily.
Osric chuckled, the vibrations sending delicious shivers through her body. “Eager, are we?” he teased, his voice laced with amusement.
Hali blushed, but didn’t deny it. Instead, she arched her hips higher, silently inviting him to continue.
And continue he did.
Osric’s tongue was a work of art, slow and deliberate as it traced delicate patterns through her folds, searching right for her core, flicking over the hood of her swollen clit. Hali’s toes curled, and she bit her lip to stifle a moan. He was right; he was doing this right, so very right.
He teased her mercilessly, flicking his tongue against her clit before pulling away, only to suckle gently on her inner thighs. As Osric’s tongue danced across her sensitive folds, Hali’s breath hitched, her body responding to his every touch. She felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with desire, and her imagination, once so prone to flights of fancy, was now anchored firmly in the present moment, in the delicious torment of Osric’s mouth on her.
“Osric,” she moaned, her voice a breathy whisper. “You’re driving me mad.”
