Start date: Tuesday March 22, 2022 4:35 PM
QuitThis date: April 30, 2021 5:31 p.m.
Nylie Ecker knew the first rule in surviving.
Trust no one but yourself.
She had taken women to bed to fill her own much needed desires and pulsing aches, but never once had she given out her heart.
Though tonight, she was in an awfully awkward position. The woman she had bedded earlier was curled around her side, an arm draped across Nylie’s naked stomach, warmth radiating off the sleeping woman. She was due outside hours ago, but being in the clutches of the woman had put Nylie’s duties on pause.
With a sigh, Nylie reached beneath her pillow casually, drawing out a thin, but sharp pocket knife. Before she could change her mind, the weapon was drawn across the woman’s neck, blood dripping onto the bed sheets. In the second that the woman would meet her death, her eyes flickered open, mouth dropping in an unpleasant O.
Already, Nylie was pulling away, disgusted by the scent of blood even after years of killing people who recognised her. She knew this woman was harmless outwardly, but inwardly, she knew Jia—or perhaps her name had been Jean—knew her real name and status. And information in the city of Bracklus was as expensive and proudly owned as gold.
Nylie threw on her ratty clothes and flung open the window of the inn she was staying at. Her head throbbed dully from the wine bottles she had ingested last night. She used to train herself with drinking wine bottle after wine bottle without getting drunk, but the J-something woman was a real feat to beat.
Regretting her decision wasn’t going to help her situation, so she ignored the ache as best she could and leapt out of the second floor balcony.
The cobblestones greeted her frantically, but in one smooth motion, she rolled onto her back, lightening the fall on her neck and head. She slightly stumbled as she came to her feet, almost knocked senseless from the height. The cool night breeze kissed her flushed cheeks, allowing her a moment of reprieve.
No with time to dwell, on the run from the clutches of quite a few mercenaries she stole from, she fled the small town, leaving a dead body in her wake as a parting gift.
Kerala Vares wanted to do nothing more but to draw a sword on her guards. They followed her wherever she went, privacy be damned.
Now, in her peripheral vision, she could just make out the shadows drawn across the marble flooring, the darkness swirling as her guards moved in time. The clanking of their armour was faint, a trick they had to learn for Kerala to keep her patience in check.
Lashing out at her guards in public would do her image no good, courtesans and courtiers gossiping as fast as wind snatches away words.
So, Kerala lifted her glossy pink gown she was told to wear, lifted her chin high, and strutted down the hall in her click-clacking heels. She scolded her face into a neutral expression as servants bowed their heads and courtesans shot her snide looks of interest, gazes drawn to her bare calves. They knew long ago not to approach her when she was in a mood.
She still didn’t regret ripping a man’s hair out, leaving a bald spot on his greasy head. The punishment that came afterwards was worth the pained look on the man’s face. He rightfully so deserved it after putting his filthy hands on her hips, an amusing smirk on his lips. She had wanted to scratch his eyes out with her nails, until he was blinded by blood, but she didn’t get the chance. She decided that his hair had been worth it as she later found out the man had, in fact, wore a cheaply made wig. She had laughed when her older brother, Talen, informed her later that the man left the castle grounds with a shiny bald head.
Down the hall, her footsteps echoed, announcing her presence to the council in the meeting room she had been forced to attend. She had always loved grand gestures and entrances, and she was going to make this one count. Sitting through a two-hour long meeting discussing trading and politics always made her head scream in exhaustion and made her feel insane. She hated these countless meetings she was dragged to; when she complained, her whines were left unhead and ignored by her parents. Talen had tried to tell her it was for the public image, but Kerala wanted nothing to do with her title and the throne.
She was tired of courtesans and courtiers flanking her when she was due in court, or when she was out in the courtyards for fresh air. She despised every single one of them for their futile efforts and strange personalities.
Lovey birdies
Nylie’s breath shuddered inconsistently as she stared into the glossy depths of Kerala’s eyes. Her fingers itched for her personal knife always strapped at her hip. She wanted the comfort of a weapon in her hands, but no possible dagger or gun would protect her against the onslaught of emotions that surfaced whenever Kerala was near.
And right this moment, she was very near. Her pale hand hovered inches away from Nylie’s throat, the knife the only thing separating their lips from crashing into each other.
Nylie knew she should be focusing on getting herself out of this situation, and she knew she could very easily. However, while she was at the mercy of Kerala, she was quite precisely enjoying the proximity of them together. She hated the frenzy of her heart and the thoughts drifting into her mind intrusively, but most of all, she hated the way Kerala looked at her, as if Nylie was a wild animal.
Nylie let out an inaudible sigh as Kerala moved imperceptibly closer. She almost fisted Kerala’s flimsy gown and pulled her so their lips met; Nylie’s heart pounded faster as she imagined the woman’s soft, pink lips on hers, her manicured nails twirling in Nylie’s dark curls.
She couldn’t shake the illusion from her mind, the image growing out of control with each ticking second.
Her body was locked in a careless stature, pinned in place by Kerala’s poor weaponry skills. The tip of the dagger was pressed furiously into her jugular, so much so that breathing took effort.
“Enjoying yourself?” Nylie snarled, though her voice was devoid of venom. She cursed under her breath when her tone came out breathless and shaky.
Kerala flashed a smile so profound it made Nylie’s chest squeeze painfully; however, her eyes said otherwise. Pure hatred shone in her gaze, striking her dumbfounded. Nylie couldn’t even comprehend what she had done to make this woman despise her to the point Kerala had thought it would be brilliant to have her at knifepoint. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve had them killed minutes ago, but Kerala was someone Nylie couldn’t fathom ever harming.
When Kerala didn’t speak, Nylie continued, willing her voice to hold steady, “You know, you could be dead by now. You’re holding the dagger incorrectly, first off–” Nylie began ticking points off her fingers–“Your stance is disgustingly easy for your opponent, in this case, me; one sweep of my legs and you’d crash to the floor.” Nylie let out a low chuckle. “Wouldn’t that be quite a scene.” She forced a blush away, using all her self-control to not give away how she’s feeling. But even then, she imagined Kerala’s dress hitching up her smooth thighs, possibly revealing pink lace underwear—not that Nylie knew anything about that—she so favoured.
Though Kerala dug the dagger deeper into Nylie’s throat, she corrected her stature, straightening her posture and widening her legs for balance. “Please shut the fuck up,” she growled. “I don’t think you understand how much you have embarrassed me already today. I don’t need you correcting me on my stance. If it isn’t for your stupid fighting skills, I’d have this dagger driven into your throat.”
“Not possible. With your inexperience, you’ll be the one at the end of the pointed end of a sword,” Nylie said, smirking. Her face portrayed an expression of smugness, but inside, her body was a flurry of activity. Her stomach was coiled tight, the nearness of Kerala making her faint.
Kerala’s pretty face pinched in fury, a soft strawberry blush dusting her pale cheeks. “Don’t you go and criticise my abilities regarding swordsmanship.”
“Spoken like a true royal,” Nylie said, trying and failing to stop herself from laughing. She stopped abruptly when she felt the sharp pierce of the dagger dig into her skin. She felt the cold bead of blood trail down her throat, and she stared wordlessly into the princess’ eyes. She contemplated disarming Kerala before she could clumsily kill Nylie, but she didn’t want to further anger the princess, wishing to be on her good graces, desperately wanting to be on top of her naked figure.
“Apologise at once,” Kerala demanded, leaning in subtly closer, her breaths misting Nylie’s face. Nylie noted that the princess’ breath smelled faintly of fruity mint. “To speak ill of a royal is absolutely outrageous. You have offen—”
“Fuck yourself,” Nylie blurted, her impatience finally getting the better of her. She knocked away the dagger poised at her lungs half-heartedly, not caring for Kerala’s pride. “I’m sick of this prattle of yours. Shall we have some fun?” She batted her long lashes at the princess, a grin teasing the corners of Nylie’s lips. Her hands, where moments before were hung carelessly at her side, now sprung upwards, making suggestive movements that further delighted Nylie. Only to her disappointment, Kerala looked close to throwing up at the thought.
“I will not be tolerating a horny woman in my presence,” the princess said, huffing out a breath. Her graceful hands adorned with bracelets and silver rings danced across the skirt of her evening gown, her anxiousness visible. Her iris’ were slightly dilated as if Kerala had drunk a bottle too much of wine—Nylie had observed from afar earlier—which she in fact did.
“Come on, let yourself have some fun,” Nylie tried teasing, but her tone sounded a tad too desperate, her voice pitched an octave too high. She was unsteady on her feet, watching Kerala’s careful neutral expression, dizzy with the fact that the woman before her had not left in a disgusted hurry. Her fingers daintily rested on Kerala’s elbow, her tattooed arm contrasting against the woman’s bare one. She substantially tugged her closer, wanting to feel Kerala’s breath on her face once more, wanting her hands roaming the princess’ body, her lips pulsing against Kerala’s.
“I really shouldn’t take the woman who embarrassed me in front of an audience at my ball, in front of my parents, and my possible admirers to bed.” Kerala shot Nylie a glare that corrupted her stomach with an assault of butterflies. Kerala snatched her elbow away and dutifully dusted away invisible germs on her skin, as if Nylie had a contagious transmittable disease.
“Perhaps once we have sex you’ll realize that I am very much forgivable,” she countered, on the verge of hysteria that the woman still wasn’t beneath her yet. She ached for Kerala to be pulsating under her, to feel her breasts in her hands, to hear her moans of yearning and desire.
Kerala looked surprised by what Nylie could only assume was the brash language. “What,” she sputtered. Kerala’s mouth open and closed, indecisive as to whether or not her comment was worth it.
Nylie smiled at the sight of rendering her speechless. She had never shown her hand so nakedly to anyone, but this time, she was crazy with hormones attacking her brain and her body; she had told what she deeply wanted and now she was facing the person who was either going to accept or reject her wishes.
“I must think about it,” she said finally, giving Nylie a firm look.
“What do you mean you need to think? It’s a yes or no!” Nylie exploded, her fury unattended for.
Kerala winced. “I haven’t— the last time. . . . Nevermind, I do not have to explain myself to you.”
A smirk crossed Nylie’s lips. “You mean to say you’re not sexually active?” She pressed on at Kerala’s blush, “Do not fear, Princess of Varla. I am sexually active, and I will lead you through the procedure, promising you wetness and coursing desire.” Nylie was nearly vibrating with the firm ache of her vagina wanting to so badly be pressed against Kerala’s. But she restrained herself, reeling in her hormones to control herself when the princess was only mere paces away.
Kerala chewed on her bottom lip which was the cutest thing Nylie had seen tonight, and she had seen a lot with the princess so previously close to her. “I don’t even like you,” she admitted.
Nylie’s face fell, her heart cracking. Her shoulders slumped in defeat, the butterflies gone from her stomach in an instant. She felt terribly ill all of a sudden at the news.
“. . . so, I do not know why I’m going to say yes,” Kerala finished sheepishly, batting her false lashes at Nylie.
In seconds, Nylie’s heart pounded uncontrollably, and she had to swallow a few times before she could form a coherent word. “Yes?” she repeated breathlessly.
Kerala nodded. “Yes,” she said confidently. “I would like to see if you are as good in bed as you are a fighter.”
Nylie breathed shallowly before grabbing Kerala’s slim wrist and pulling her towards her cream-white king-sized bed. “Say no more princess.” Her eyes sparkled with glory, images of Kerala’s naked form rubbing against hers. “I will seduce you until you no longer know your own name,” she promised heathenly.
Nylie was met with silence, and for a second, she thought she had gone too far with her assertive language, but when she chanced a glance back, she caught a glimpse of Kerala’s deep blush blooming across her lovely cheeks. Nylie grinned in triumph, knowing she could pull anyone, and the princess was enough for her for an entire year.
As she slowly coaxed Kerala onto the bed, going slow, slow, so slow, she felt her body buzz with the familiar ache of desire, her body pulsing erratically fast.
Nylie first slipped off the princess’ gown, the clothing slipping off her shoulders like silk, revealing flush breasts with pink peaked nipples. Like a light switch, something snapped inside of Nylie, and she pushed Kerala down, forgoing the leisurely pace before, her fingers nimble as she dragged the pink-laced underwear off. She gulped when her eyes zeroed in on the woman’s vagina; so pretty, so soft. Nylie licked her lips in anticipation, Kerala whimpering as Nylie stuck her slender middle finger right up her clit. Then she took the princess’ left breast into her mouth, tasting them with fervour so intense Kerala barely managed to stifle a moan. The princess’ hands were roaming in Nylie’s now-tangled hair, her legs and thighs and knees all around Nylie’s clothed form.
“Off,” Kerala moaned, “Please.”
Nylie smirked, obeying the direct order of the royal princess and Kerala sucked in a breath as her garments were ripped off her, unveiling her proud naked hourglass figure. Before Kerala could plead another word, Nylie went down between the woman’s legs, her tongue teasing her thighs, her labia, and gently, her clit. When she pushed her tongue inside, Kerala gasped, her fingers clutching at Nylie’s hair desperately now, her legs scrambling for hold on Nylie’s hips.
And on and on they went, until Kerala finally came, Nylie drawing out, licking her lips in satisfaction.
“Your name, Princess,” Nylie said.
Kerala shook her head. “Nylie,” she gasped. “Nylie,” she reiterated.
Nylie’s lips curled into a smile, euphoria overtrumping her smugness. “You forgot your own name?” she prompted. She teased Kerala’s lips with her own, her fingers dancing across the woman’s bare stomach, wetness between them. Nylie laid her head on Kerala’s chest, listening to the rapid beating of her heart rate.
“You really are as good as fighting as you are in bed,” Kerala mumbled, already heavy with sleep, pleasure fading swiftly. Her bare arm reached blindly for Nylie, and when her hand grasped Nylie’s, she grinned lazily, her smile lopsided, creating a stir in Nylie’s chest.
“Princess, we should probably wipe you down with a wet cloth,” Nylie said, still panting from her leisure before.
Kerala mumbled a garbled word, swallowed by exhaustion.
“For hygiene,” Nylie said firmly, but the princess did not stir, already fallen to the magic of sleep. She snorted before retrieving a wet cloth from the washroom and wiping the princess down. As she did so, her gaze snatched on the diamond necklace resting between Kerala’s breasts, and hesitantly, she reached for the clasp around the woman’s neck. As she slipped the jewellery into her pocket, she stared down at the princess snoring softly, and she whispered, “Sweetie, you’re far too gullible, but you’re my best chance I have to win this game.” She pulled the duvet up to Kerala’s chin. “You’re such a lovely pawn in my chess game.” She smiled wickedly before turning to the princess’ desk and stealing her rapier. “I’ll definitely be using you to the best of my abilities,” she said to the weapon, completely in awe. Her teeth flashed in the dim lighting, her emotions warring with each other. One side screaming to sleep beside Kerala, the other urging her to run, now that she had the artifacts she needed.
She listened to the latter and jumped out the window.