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[Nexus Prime] Poking Embers (Rosie)

Timestamp
Mid-Late Autmn, Era XXVI
Location
Nexus Prime
Content Warnings
NSFW
"Wait a minute, wait a minute..." Riven says he pauses mid-swig. "You went skinning-dipping, on a private island, with the prince regent..." The swig finally finishes, much long than usual, even for him. "I watched thousands of dead men accept fate in Lauryl, and you were off gallivanting nude on a prince's island. Almost makes me wish I was a sailor." The wine skin is handed back to her, and Riven's cut and worn hand returns to the curves of Rosie's thigh. "Almost."

His eyelids begin to feel heavy with her warmth around him. It had been so long since he fell asleep with her in his arms. Not since Farwater, he recalls. Cursed Farwater, his soldiers call it. A waste of time and life if ever there was one. He followed Valanthia there on some ill-fated idea of the common good. Such idealism no longer exists in Riven now. His only ideal lies with the men in this tavern, the family back east, and the woman inside his arms right now. There was one good thing to come out of Farwater, at least. It gave him a reason to unleash hell on K'terak. All he needed were a few more men. And ships.

"If running away with you meant fighting the Xet in Arakmat, again, and the undead in Arakmat, again, I think I'll stand by my decision." With a laugh, he playfully bats away Rosie's tickling hands and reciprocates along her sides. His hands slowly moving from tickling to rubbing, massaging around her hips. Then her thighs. Then the insides of her thighs. "I'll keep my place inside your bed. In fact, I'll keep my place inside you."

His hand spreads her leg wide and he quickly exploits the gap. His hips nest themselves snuggly between her thighs as he feels his shaft slowly rising, desperate for more. But nothing screams urgency as his weight slowly conflates atop her. He keeps his elbows rigid over the mattress lest his massive frame suffocate her, but his hands wrap around her back as much as they can, softly scratching the insides of her shoulder blades. For anyone with half a bit of common sense, this is all just an obviously ploy to deflect from Rosie's question about Riven's future. He has a feeling that I don't know wouldn't be a sufficient answer. A part of him wants to say he needed to recruit more men, more Vagarans, if his grandiose plans are ever to come to fruition. Another wants to tell her he'll need to head back to Bärentatze and build his lands if he wants them to be anything more than some remote logging camp. But both those options mean leaving Rosie. Not nearly as long as this months-long departure, but long enough for there to be a fight about it. For what else was their relationship but the ebb and flow between fighting and fucking?

"All I know what's next for me is laying right in front of my eyes," he says, finally. She feels the ribbing of his foreskin thrum over her clit, an obvious distraction but hopefully a successful one nonetheless. And if Riven has anything, it's a bevy of distractions. He raises his hand beside him, towards the hearth, and his fingers stretch out to a large log beside the fire, yet consumed. "Oh, and my future also involves mastering this," Riven continues, taking his eyes off her for a split moment to focus his attention and energy to the log. After what seems like a lifetime, it begins to jiggle. Then it lifts with the rise of the Vagaran's hand, until it stutters violently in the air and plops into the fire. He winces as the log crashes down and sends embers everywhere. "As you can see, I need a lot more practice."

A smile forms as his face returns to hers, tasting her lips and tongue while his chest rubs up and down over her tits. "Why don't you tell me what's in your future," He says between kisses, eyes closed. He's tired, but he'll sacrifice the world if it means feeling her womanhood again first. "And try not to be preoccupied by this..." His cock slowly splits past her slit and continues inside her at a slow, relaxed pace.
 
There was something to be said about the life each of them had chosen. One allowed for someone to go skinny dipping in a tropical paradise as if they hadn’t a care in the world, the other endured horrors on a daily basis that no person should ever have to witness. Rosie knew which life she preferred and she was proud to stick to her convictions. Especially since it meant she wouldn’t have to offer up any more of her men to Jalat’s judgment. She was more than happy to resume her “safer” adventures that didn’t include mass destruction.

It was more than a little annoying that he still wouldn’t admit that his soldiering gig wasn’t nearly as rewarding as her sailor’s life. But she couldn’t outright correct him. Part of what kept him alive was his arrogance and the way he thought he was always right–same as her. Far be it from Rosie to discourage a soldier’s hubris and take away the one thing that might save his life in a pinch. Couldn’t have him second-guessing himself, but she could continue to show him just how much better her side of things was and perhaps one day he’d come to see the light.

He assured her that he would keep his place in her bed, though. As well as inside of her; his hand pushed her legs apart and he eased in between her thighs as snug as a piece of wood perfectly cut to fit into a frame. She really did want to know what he planned on doing next, where his adventures would take him and how long she’d have to wait to see him again, but with his cock pulsating over the top of her clit, it was difficult to think about anything but the sensations he gave her. She sighed and closed her eyes, resigned herself to the knowledge that he wasn’t yet prepared to answer her. If he wanted to distract her, she was more than willing to oblige, especially if it meant earning his cum once again.

Then he ruined everything by pointing at a log and floating it in the air. Her deep moans cut off in an instant as she stared in horror at his magical display, fingernails gripping into the forearm that held his weight over top of her. ”When did that happen?” she asked, doing her best to keep the contents of her stomach settled. The last she knew, Riven had as much distaste for mages as she did. How did that happen?” If he’d been cursed–like she had–then there was nothing she could blame him for, but if he’d chosen this? If he actually went out and asked a mage to break into his skull and attune him to arcana? Then he wasn’t the man she thought he was and she needed to reevaluate some things.

He kissed her, the grin on his face showing how proud he was of this new power. She definitely wasn’t thinking about the future anymore and his question remained unanswered. He pushed inside of her, filling her pussy inch by agonizing inch and her head fell back to the pillows with a whimper, eyelashes fluttering. She loved how he made her feel, but she hated him for what he’d done to himself. The freshly healed wounds in her heart began to break again as she tried to decide what to say, whether or not to continue fucking him or have this fight right now.

She decided to do both.

Her legs wrapped around his waist, arms over shoulders as she held him tight, meeting each of his thrusts with her own and luxuriating in the blissfulness of their entwined bodies. ”Do you think you can control it?” she asked, infusing her words with her spellsong so that the vibrations danced across his skin, infusing his muscles with pleasure as if every part of him was as sensitive as the head of his cock pounding into the back of her cunt. ”That it’s a harmless toy, no more dangerous than a doll?” She increased the intensity of her chant, grinding herself against him as the lines between what was pleasure fueled by magic or just her body blurred.

”Stupide!” she shouted, cutting off the chant and instead manipulating the sound waves to hit Riven in the chest and flip him onto his back. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she was on top of him, straddling his waist with his cock buried deep once again. One palm laid flat on his chest as she rode him, lips peeled back in a snarl. ”You saw what they did in Demios, the massacre that occurred because some mage couldn’t control his magic properly. And at Farwater with the carrots. And I’m sure countless other times, the same as I have.” All catastrophic events that hadn’t been the intended outcome.

Sweat beaded and pooled between her breasts as her hand slid from his chest to his neck to his cheeks where she pinched his jaw and forced him to look her in the eyes. Why would you play with fire like this?”
 
Had he known she would mull over his glorified magic trick so emphatically, he would've just got up from the bed and put the log on the fire by himself. Apparently, his little theatrics were on par with the conjured carrot elves of Farwater. Now, as he slides himself inside her and makes two become one again, the questions begin. Riven takes his lips from the nape of her neck, and turns his eyes to hers. A brow crooks as he stares in bewilderment. "Could we not talk about this now?" He says with half a laugh. He kisses her slowly, then her cheek, wrapping his arms around her back until he begins to nibble her ear lobe.

His thrusts match her own, keeping his groans slow and low as all his shaft exits and re-enters her. He can feel a sensation he's never felt before. Involuntarily, his body shivers, every inch of his skin seizing as her fingers ease overtop them. He should be ecstatic, to know his love appears to possess some sublime carnal ability to send all his body on fire. But he's not. She was just chastising him, mid-fuck, about magic, only to be utilizing some sort of song arcana of her own. "Rosie, please, stop," he says softly, as she cautions about magic's harm. It was a little hypocritical, given she was currently using arcana to ignite his senses right now. But he had made peace with the Jaedaxienne's wild hypocrisy a long time ago. "Can you just stay in the moment? I don't want to fight. I love--"

Stupide, she calls him. Well, she isn't wrong. But it's hardly the time and place now. Why is she doing this? Is it such an ordeal, to just let each other slowly love each other without violence and belts and domination and all that other shit? Riven knows the answer as his chest is blasted backwards. His eyes bulge wide as she climbs on top of her. Either she's deliberately trying to anger him, or she's gone mad. "Demios? Farwater? Rosie, enough." Riven's had just about enough of this. All he wanted to was to gently feel her until the two fell asleep together. Instead, she's chastising him like a child for doing the exact same thing she's doing now.

Playing with fire. She should talk. As she grabs his face with her fingers and pinches, his eyes begin to turn grey in rage. Not the type of rage that made him want to ravage her. More like the type of rage she saw when he crushed that barkeeper's skull in with his bare hands. "I SAID ENOUGH!"

Riven's scream is complimented by his arm on her chest. Any other person who brought him to such a precipice usually doesn't walk away breathing. But he loves Rosie. Crazy and stupid as it is, everything he feels for her prohibits him from ever hurting her... at least, not in a way she didn't want. Instead, the hand pressed against her chest shoves forward, knocking her off balance and onto her back upon the mattress. Riven quickly rises from her mattress, fists clenched, eyes closed. His sucks in breath through a clenched jaw, desperately trying to calm himself before he does something for which he would never forgive himself. "Gods damn it, Rosie. Why!?" The Vagaran asks when his eyes finally open, a look on his face equal parts anger and confusion. "Why can't I just make love to you one, fucking, time, without you needing to make me angry?"

A deep exhale. Riven raises opening hands in the air before they collapse back on his sides. His head shakes. He doesn't understand this. It's just a stupid little sorcery. He wasn't burning down villages. Is this all worth the frustration? Exhausted, he slowly walks over to Troost's cot and falls to its side, elbows resting on his knees with his head hanging. He's trying not to think about that memory Ziel Aerca... but maybe the memory is true after all. "I hate this..." he says under his breath, though loud enough for Rosie to hear atop the bed they're supposed to be sharing right now. "I just don't... fuck this." Riven rises from the cot and grabs his trousers. "I need some fresh air." He looks her in the eyes, trying to figure out the thoughts in her mind. He can't. If she doesn't obstruct him, he'll keep making his way to the door, down the stairs towards the exit still bare-chested. A Vagaran's skin never minded a bit of cool autumn air anyways.
 
The fact that Rosie hated mages was not a secret. She openly expressed her distrust of them and distaste for how easy they made things. She knew what it did to people, how it twisted their minds into thinking they were invincible, dulling their wits until every problem needed to be solved by magic. She knew this because she felt it, her song always slithering beneath her skin, begging to be used. It would be oh so simple if she just weaved a little spell into her words and smoothed things over on her whim. Up until that moment, she’d thought Riven was of the same thought. Apparently not.

She felt betrayed. Almost as badly as she would have felt if he joined the Legions again. And she lost herself in that anger, using her magic to chastise and treating him as rough as if he’d tried to tell her he didn’t love her anymore. But that’s what it felt like. If he could do this without discussing it with her, could go back on his word and become unbound, what else was going to change with him?

It wasn’t until he shoved her off of him and fled the bed that she came back to her senses, cheeks aflame with pain as he berated her, knowing she deserved every moment of it. She remained silent, burying her face in her hands so he couldn’t see the tears that started to flow. He hated this. The words stung more than anything he’d ever said to her. Riven was the best thing that ever happened to her and she sabotaged it at every turn. Not even on purpose. It felt like every time he got close to her, she pushed him away. She could take a few guesses as to why, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.

He needed air and she finally took her hands from her face to look at him with pleading eyes. ”Don’t go,” she said, crawling off the bed to grab onto his arm and stand between him and the door. ”I’m scared,” she admitted and he had to know how difficult it was for those words to come out of her mouth. An admiral was not scared. Ever. If she was, then that meant disaster for her ships and their crews. But she was terrified and she was tired of keeping that burden to herself.

”Not just of the magic,” she said, the moisture falling freely from her eyes (which was perhaps the worst part of it all, she never wanted him to see her this weak).

”Mostly that one day you’ll wake up and realize I’m not worth the effort.” Her fingertips stroked his forearm before traveling up to wrap as far around his bicep as she could. ”I want to be soft. I want to be loved. But I don’t know how anymore.” Her other hand knit into his hair at the base of his neck, trying to bring his lips to hers, willing to stand on the tips of her toes if he was unwilling to bend for her.

”I don’t want to push you away.” He had to believe her. Although he wasn’t really known for giving her the benefit of the doubt. Sometimes it felt like he needed to believe the worst of her. ”Come back to bed,” she pleaded, trying to pry the trousers from his hands and erase the part of their evening that included magic and fighting. ”Let me try again.”
 
Rosie's hand grabs hold of him, and it takes all his collective will not to rip himself away. Then she tells him she's scared, and the raging tide of emotion veers the other way. Scared of what? He turns his face back around to see a face covered in tears. On instinct, it angers him. Looking at the woman he considers the love of his life in such a state, it's all he can do not to find the person responsible for her crying and commit unforgiveable atrocities. Alas, the person responsible is him. What then? Should he tear off his own skin then? The way they force themselves into these pointless fights, the thought can't help but cross his mind.

"Why aren't you worth the effort?" Riven asks. It's a question more inquisitive than compassionate. He just doesn't understand how a pirate, an admiral, a woman so confident in so many other elements, could be afflicted with such little self-worth. It isn't possible. "Tell me why you're not worth the effort," he tells her, cupping her chin in his hand and lifting her eyes up. He wants to kiss her, so badly. Forget they ever had this conversation and move on. But he can't. Not with this hanging over their head. He wants to know why she feels this way, so he never has to hear her doubt herself again. "Are you going to leave me? Is there another man? Do you have the bloody flux? What is it?"

Riven's head pulls back. There's a large gulp from his protruding adam's apple as he looks to the ceiling, shielding his eyes from her. He won't let her see him like this. He goes to the nightstand by Troost's cot, pretending to gather something from inside when really he's just trying to rally his emotions. He closes back the nightstand's door, retrieving nothing, and slowly walks over to the edge of the bed. His trousers drop. He's back in bed now, just as she pleaded. He's avoided her kiss to this point, but he knows it's only a matter of time before he discards all the red flags and submits. "Sit with me." The harder, inquisitive tone in his voice finally relents to a softer request.. His hands rub together. He hates that. His hands impulsively rub together when he's nervous about what the future holds. Every large battle, it was the same annoying habit. He doesn't entirely understand why his fingers intertwine themselves now. Perhaps the heart knew what the mind didn't.

"I love you so much," He says to her, but keeps his eyes to the ground. He's having a hard time looking at her in this moment. "But I can't love you if you feel worthless. Because that just tells me you don't understand how much I value you." He finally manages to raise his eyes and look at her. "Does that make sense?" Hoping she's sat on or next to him, he combs her hair back over her ear. He tries to give a consoling grin, but his teeth are biting behind his lower lip. "I don't care if you're angry at me because I've done something stupid. And you've been around me long enough to know I do a lot of stupid things." A genuine laugh, as his fingers release from one another and seek to intertwine with hers. "But people who don't know their worth make worthless decisions... and..."

Both thumbs rest over her knuckles. "You're either the love of my life, or you're someone I should've walked away from at that pink square in Jaedaxia. Tell me you're not going to question how much I value you again, and I'll know I made the right decision back home."

He leans back, lays down in the bed. He prays she'll join him and rest until sunrise. Else the front door is open for her, if she thinks all this isn't worth it anymore.
 
He wanted to know why she didn’t feel worth the effort, but he wouldn’t give her a chance to even begin explaining. It was stupid and complicated and he wanted a two word answer. Accusations flew, as if another man could ever match what she felt for him. Even if she hadn’t been on her best behavior while he was gone, there was no one in the world to compare to him. And then he paced and all she could do was watch as the man she loved spiraled away from her. How did they get here? One second they were making and then she’d freaked out about magic and now this? It didn’t make sense and she just wanted things to go back to the way they were.

Finally, he sat on the bed and asked her to sit with him. She did, cautiously as she waited for him to continue berating her. As usual, he made her doubts about him. When he was done and laid back in the bed, she curled up beside him, entwining her legs with his and nestling into his shoulder. Her chin propped on his chest so she could look him in the eyes. ”You might not believe it, but my fear isn’t about you. It’s about me and not being good enough to deserve you.”

She walked her fingers up his chest and through his beard until she booped his nose. ”Every man before you told me I wasn’t enough in one way or too much in another. Too loud, too bawdy, not soft, not womanly. You hear the same thing often enough, you start to believe it, oui?” She hoped she was making sense and he wasn’t immediately catastrophizing behind those pale blues of his.

”I spend every day agonizing over how I can be right for you. Trying to figure it out and not mess this up but…” She blinked her eyes, doing her best to keep fresh tears from falling. She was tired of crying and just wanted to get through her monolog without breaking down again. ”But sometimes, I think a part of me gets exhausted and believes that it’s all going to end anyway, so I might as well hurt you before you have a chance to hurt me first.” She didn’t want to be that way and she was trying to work through it, but she wasn’t perfect. No matter how desperately she wanted to be.

She crawled a little higher up his chest, playfully nibbling at his skin before grazing her teeth along his jawline towards his ear so she could whisper. ”I never doubt you. You help me breathe.” A childish part of her wanted to add some little dig about how she shouldn’t have bothered getting involved with him if he couldn’t understand that, maybe use the exact same words he’d flung at her only moments before, but she was too exhausted to fight with him. She just wanted to be with him.
 
The moment Rosie returns to bed, entwines their legs, a rush falls over Riven's body. As though nothing outside her touch is required to douse the fires within his mind. It isn't, of course. He's so terribly afraid of the words she speaks, though he's trying his utmost to mask his emotions. That was what a Vagaran berserker did. Emotions were for women and schoolchildren, the men from his clan would always proselytize. It's foolish tutelage, he knows. But when she falls into his arms again, Riven's quick to nestle her in his chest, lest she see the feelings of his heart betrayed by the look in his eyes.

"I wish I could kill every one of those men," Riven says of those whose opinions still rent thought in her subconscious. His arms wrap around her even tighter, bringing their bare chests closer together, and kisses the top of her head where her honeyed locks begin. Her hair is drenched in sweat but he doesn't care. He'll taste her in any way that she doesn't have to look at his strung face. "But Rosie, I'm not those men. I wish you wouldn't compare me to them. All your perfections, all your imperfections, I love all of it. All of you.

"... So when you say you're going to hurt me, I don't understand. I just... I don't..."
Riven's throat clears, stronger than usual, and gulps down the rest of the sentence. His heart begins to beat a little faster, though his chest almost seizes from motion. Both eyes shutter closed, but it doesn't stop a tear from escaping, descending over the line of his crooked nose and dripping to the pillow below. Both lips twist and bend as he desperately fights off the thoughts of their future. Of Rosie hurting him, for reasons he can't conceive. If he was so good for her, then why would she hurt him? WHY? The more he thinks about, the harder it is to fight off his vulnerability.

Riven briskly shakes his head back to reality as her lips rise up to her ear. "I help you breathe... and you give me heart attacks. It's quite the exchange." He gives a genuine smile and laugh through his nose, welled eyes finally opening as he looks at her. A hand shifts up her shoulders and holds the back fo her head in place for a kiss. His tongue pushes to find hers, dancing with one another. Teeth bit into her lower lip and pull as his forehead leans closer. His legs, his hands, his face, they all greedily attempt to claim as much of her skin as possible.

His kiss begins to slow until almost stationary along her lips. There's a deep inhale in, sharp exhale out, as Riven rallies himself in her arms. "Turn around, my love," Riven whispers in her ear. He gathers the sheets over them both as she jockeys the other way around, then guides her hips until she's snugly nestled into his lap. It's not until Rosie feels his lips pressed against the crown of her hair that she can hear his heartbeat begin to calm along her back. There's a long pause of nothing but... silence. Only the crackling fire, and the shift of his body as it spoons as much of her lithe frame as possible. "I can't imagine life without you, mein Engel," her Vagaran says, piercing the quiet. "If you feel like you're going to hurt me, though... listen, I'll find a way to deal with it. I'm Vagaran, I can take it. I'll re-enlist with the Legions and you'll never have to see me again." The very thought shakes his body. His arm envelops her belly as though he fears she might leave right then and there for some reason. His hand is cupping her breast along the mattress while he speaks, but it's not necessarily sexual in nature... though his mischievous thumb, rubbing over the tip of her nipple, still seems keen on more play. "Or you can just tell me you'll never hurt me, and you love me, and you want to stay in this bed forever.

"Oh, and you're gonna give up your seafaring lifestyle and be a good little house wife in my tavern on Trident Isle. Oh, and you're gonna make me lots of little Black Bears, and cook, and clean. That's not so much to ask, right?"


She can feel his smile on the back of her head. Queue her elbow into the gut in three... two...
 
It wasn’t a problem that she ever wanted to think about, let alone voice to the man she loved. But there it was. Out for him to hear and judge, to see how broken she was and maybe gain some insight into why she behaved the way she did. Of course he immediately wanted blood and she rolled her eyes with a chuckle. ”That’d be a waste of your time and talent.” Besides, the damage was already there and murdering her exes wouldn’t change anything. If anything, it’d probably make her feel even worse. Probably. Get a few more drinks in her and the bitterness and spite might start to surface.

”I don’t want to hurt you.” He had to know that, right? She’d warned him about this from the beginning, begged him not to fall in love with her and yet, here they were. So wound up in one another that there was no separating them. He knew her in ways that no one else ever did, or likely ever would. He’d seen her at her lowest and still loved her. It was a gift she didn’t want to squander, she just knew that she would. Because Rosie could never allow herself to just settle down and be happy. Inevitably, she always self sabotaged.

She tried to reassure him, to let him know how much she loved and needed him, but he remained pessimistic, which only made her feel worse. When she finally was able to look him in the eye, she realized he’d been crying and her heart sank, twisting in her chest. She was already hurting him and she wasn’t even trying. This is what she did. She was a hurricane that swept up other people and left them in ruins while she blew away. He tugged her in for a kiss before she could sink any lower into the shattered opinion of herself she had. Each second their lips touched breathed new life into her and she could feel the pain stripping away.

His hands explored her body as if it was the first time they’d ever touched, tugging, prodding, needing and she mounted an expedition of her own, reacquainting herself with the curve of his muscles and luxuriating in his presence. And then he slowed and Rosie had to force herself to do the same when all she really wanted to do was feel him inside of her again. He told her to turn around and she obliged without protest, nestling her ass in his lap. They hadn’t tried this position yet and she was excited.

It took her a few moments to realize that all he was going to do was hold her, but eventually the tension in her muscles eased and she gave herself over to the sensation of him wrapped around her. His face nuzzled into her hair and she finally allowed herself the peace of enjoying him, how carefully he held her when he whispered into her ear, the playful dalliance of his thumb as he teased her breast. She had a lot to say about his backup plan that involved joining the Legions, but she wasn’t in the mood to preach, nor did she think he really needed a response to his statements.

Especially not when there was the more pressing matter of him hinting at her changing the course of her entire life for him. She felt him smile, the tensing of his muscles as he prepared for her to strike him, maybe she tensed too, just enough to form a fist and feint like she was going to jab him in the stomach with her elbow. But she didn’t hit him. ”I wouldn’t mind one or two petits ours running around the decks of The Impolite Dragon. Her hand cupped his that was wrapped over her stomach and squeezed. ”And my fleet is more than capable of running without me from time to time.” She didn’t have to go on all the adventures. Just most would do.

”I don’t cook or clean, so you’ll want to hire someone for that and I can’t promise I’ll never hurt you because sometimes you like it.” She threaded her fingers through his and brought them up to her lips so she could kiss the tip of each digit. ”But I love you so sure, Riven. I’ll be as good of a little housewife as you’ll be a happy, fat and content bartender.”
 
The moment he sees Rosie pack a fist, he winces to embrace the blow on instinct. There’s a jolt against her back as he laughs, then a kiss just behind her ear. Riven’s body finally relaxes with a deep breathe when she takes his hand lazily resting on her stomach. It’s so much better this way. No fighting. No drama. It’s as peaceful now as that first time he took her, albeit far more stable than that small dinghy. The memory returns to mind her face when he first saw her climax, how she had to hold both sides of the boat and squeeze as her body seized. It’s a thought that spurns energy between his legs, moving gently over the tight embrace of her nestled ass cheeks.

But all other thoughts dash from mind the moment she begins speaking. It was originally said in jest, but her response makes it feel real. She’s the love he never thought he would have… is she also mother to children he never thought he would raise? The very idea sends his brain swimming. Men like Riven didn’t have children. They fought, they died. Even if they fought and survived, there's always too many scars from a hundred different battles to render any woman incapable of affection. For all his scars and gashes, unhealed fractures and broken conscience, the beautiful Jaedaxienne in his arms is twisted enough to look past all that. But to bear him a child? The hand resting over her belly suddenly feels a gravity much different than a moment ago.

"I like to cook. I'll find someone else to clean." Riven's lips dip down below her ear and vibrate over her shoulder as he speaks. "I work too hard to get fat, and I'm too restless to be content." His teeth rake against her skin, back and forth over the shoulders and neck. His nose wedges forward, brushing back her hair, exposing as much of her skin as possible. "But to fill you with a few ours one brightening..." His hand squeezes hers as it expands over the whole of her flat stomach. "... Yeah, I think I could do that." His face rises to hers and he squares his elbow. He's looking at her, waiting for her to turn and places a kiss on her lips. He doesn't exactly understand why, but the thought of breeding her, it excites him so intensely. Enough to raise his heartbeat, strengthen the rise and fall of his chest. Is he partial to some impregnation fetish yet known but to this point? He didn't know for certain. But it certainly seems to rally his body to an acute need for her. To feel her. To be inside her.

The hand locked with hers, gently rubbing over a belly now empty but perhaps swollen one-brightening, doesn't want to leave her touch. But as he's perched behind her, licking her lips with his tongue, it reluctantly parts from her grip. Fingers trace further and further down, his thumb trailing the rest of his hand. By the time it passes over her navel, his pinky is combing over her thin bush. His forearm is so tense. It struggles to control the urge to race down between her legs and fervently finger her cunt. But for once in his life, he's trying to be slow, albeit under significant mental duress. His fingers flirt with her pussy's mane, curtail the skin around her crotch, but it's a few agonizing moments before the whole of his hand descends between her legs. And finally, he relents. Both middle and index fingers slide over the hood of her clit, excruciatingly slow, and bury themselves to the last knuckle inside her slit. They exit, again sliding over her mound's most sensitive spot, and return in her again. No rush. Just a soft, paced prod and release. Veins begin to form in his arm. It quacks from the energy electrifying his muscles. But he resists his ravenous tendencies, deliberating taking his time so the heat rises within her until it's uncontrollable.

Rosie can feel movement from along the back of her long legs as well. His cock, once thought condemned to blue balls not five minutes prior, continues to swell and stiffen. With her legs pressed together by her lover's spoon, it's a resistant rise to attention, but it rises nevertheless. Its bright pink head courses a line along the insides of both thighs until it slides into her lap from behind her, his shaft flush with her petals. His hips begin to buck, back and forth in concert with his fingers. It slides over the outside of her entrance, exploiting how tightly her closed legs press against him.

"Mein Engel..." He whispers in her ear before settling down his elbow and nudging it under her cheek. Riven's breathing begins to shutter as his lips skim the back of her head. His hips reposition, his back arches. The head of his cock slows forward and his fingers guide the curve of his shaft until it splits her lips. Then a push. Riven grunts through a clenched jaw as his shaft slides inside her pussy again. His leg not resting along the mattress rises over the top of Rosie's legs, keeping her opening nice and tight as he stuffs her pussy over and again. The fingers rubbing against her clit begin to increase their intensity, and his hips struggle not to thrust into her faster and faster. It doesn't stop him from thrusting inside her, hard, biting down on his lips as his swollen shaft gapes her insides. He wants to fuck her harder, faster. Use her. But he loves her. He wants her to feel that now. So he keeps inside her softly and slowly. It's what the potential mother to future black bears deserves.
 
She could have been joking, teasing him by accepting the very thing neither of them truly ever thought would be a possibility. Judging from his reaction, that would have been cruel. Maybe the worst thing she could have ever done to him. Thankfully, their time apart had given her a new perspective and she knew now how much she was willing to change in her life to make it work. She would never give up the sea, but she could have a home somewhere on land, where she spent more time than she would now. If it meant having this, then she would find a way. Besides, the world deserved the love child of Riven Stoke and Rosie Kyrillos. That would be the most beautiful child Telath had ever seen.

She didn’t know he liked to cook and she turned her head to say something to effect when he captured her mouth in a kiss instead. The sense of comfort and relief that pushed through her skin was better than anything she might have wanted to say anyway and returned his embrace, reaching a hand back to caress his cheek while the other remained locked with his across her stomach. At that moment, if he’d asked her, she would have sold her ships and been the good Vagaran wife he deserved.

His cock swelled against her ass and the hand on her belly finally descended between her legs. Her breath hitched myriad emotions swimming through her head. She’d thought she had ruined the evening, that he wasn’t going to want to touch her again until he’d cooled off. Or worse that he would never want to touch her again and wished her out of his life once and for all. But here they were, discussing their possible child with his fingers slipping across her groin and parting her petals.

He was slow, deliberate with the way he slid between her folds and he knew her body well enough that he didn’t need to fumble around before finding her favorite spots and eliciting the greatest reaction from her. Her hand slid along his forearm, appreciating the veins, muscles, and scars that pressed beneath her skin, until her hand wrapped around his and she held her thighs tighter together and began nudging her hips back and forth, grinding onto him so that the flat of his palm also pleasured her. She forced herself to remain with her slow, deliberate pace, which only made her breath that much more labored.

Soon enough, his cock stirred until it wedged between her legs, seeking entrance to the home where it belonged. ”Mon grand ours…” she sighed back to him, heart swelling with the realization that someone as violent and restless as Riven even wanted to take her like this. He’d shown glimpses of it before, brief interludes between some depraved act, and she’d always reveled in those moments, but she never believed (or even thought she would want) herself capable of taking it slow the entire time. But he’d asked for this and Rosie was determined to give it to him as best she could.

Finally, his cock pushed inside of her and she felt every vein as it passed across her muscles. She wanted to open up for him, to spread her thighs and invite him deeper, but his leg pinned hers closed, keeping her tight so that his veins were more pronounced every single time his hips bucked.

”Mon amour,” she said with a rising sense of urgency, a tone he would know to mean she felt her climax rising and she was close to spilling over. Her hips thrust forward and back, his cock and his hand ensuring she didn’t have a second’s respite. Her nails bit into the back of his hand as she chewed the inside of her lip to stifle a guttural moan that soon escaped as deep groan when her body began to twitch and spasm, flooding her pussy.

”Pardon,” she said with a panted laugh, the last tremors of her climax abating so that she could slow back down and allow him the gentler pace he’d wanted.
 
It's so hard to keep his body controlled (pun intended). When he feels the heat building inside her, it's all he can not to unleash his fingers against her clit. Let them rub harder and harder until she floods the sheets beneath them. But where's the fun be in all of that? He's getting a perverse kick out of slowing things down like this. Watching the more gradual build up within her thighs until she begins to pant and tense. He finally allows her a reprieve. When her nails bite his hand, it reacts as though on reflex, pulling her face to his chest and covering her mouth. His fingers cover most her nose as well, permitting Rosie just enough air while her body convulses from the touch. When her ecstacy commandeers her body, he cock shoves in deeper, fingers rubbing her clit a little rougher, teeth biting her ear lobe a little harder.

When he finally removes the hand from her mouth and nose, she excuses herself. Riven's surprised laugh follows. "Du bist entschuldigt," he replies, and kisses her with a smile. His hips grind back and forth inside her as their tongues meet again. No longer required between her legs, the fingers massaging her clit rise to his lips so he can taste his reward. Their lips separate and he begins sucking his digits. He wants to tell her she tastes good. That she's his pirate queen. But can't. For some odd reason, the thought of uttering those words leave a painful taste in his mouth now. But it doesn't stop him from licking his finger tips clean of the delicious juices of his paramour, one by one.

His leg overtop hers, so diligent in keeping her pussy nice and tight, begin to nudge her frame forward. He doesn't stop until Rosie's on her belly, legs flat between his mounting haunches. She can tell just by the way his fingers grip her hair and shoulder... he's done playing it slow. Riven reins in her locks and yanks back. The other set of fingers press deeply into her skin, over her shoulders and across her throat, until they cup her face and turn it to his side. "Look at me, my love," he whispers. He wants to see her pretty blue eyes, how they shine in the dim firelight. "I want to see your face look at me when I cum."

His hips begin rocking the moment he's inside her. With legs still squeezed nice and tight beneath him, he begins stuffing her tight entrance from behind and overtop. A hard slap over her ass follows. And again. Rosie's lost all her control now. Her face takes turns between push and pull; either having her hair yanked back, usually with a complimenting ass slap, or pushed down into the pillow, until all she sees or breathes is confined to the few square inches of cloth beneath them. His moans begin to become stronger, more laboured... that's when he decides to turn her over.

There's no warning when Riven pulls his cock out and twists her shoulders over. But only half a moment passes before Rosie's turned around, flat on her back, and her Vagaran's massive forearms are spreading her legs wide for him. When he's finally satisfied, both his hands have her by the ankles, pressing her legs backward so her dripping pussy is exposed, waiting, willing. He thrusts his cock inside the back of her pussy again. He can't help but groan, biting his lower lip when the full shaft of his dick slides passed her slit. His ballsack slaps over the bud of her asshole faster now, and Rosie hosts more and more of Riven's weight. One hand wraps her leg around his trunk and begins to hold her face. Its thumb pets over her cheek in those rare moments when their tongues aren't intertwined. A thought passes through the soldier's head, whether or not they've ever finished in this conventional missionary position. He can't recall there ever being a time. No doubt they would tell themselves it was too pedestrian, too vanilla. But perhaps they were once both afraid it was too intimate. Not the type of way to finish when the person whose bed you share is just a cheap fuck. It's difficult not to consider that relationship status long void now. Talking about children together didn't quite permit them to think it was a fling any longer.

The hand along her faces turns rigid as his moans become more focused, heavy. Riven looks at Rosie as they both feel him swell inside her cunt. His eyes begin to roll, teeth lock into his lower lip. With her legs spread wide for him, his hips give a few more firm pushes before his seed fills her insides. Each new piercing of his fat cock sprays more and more inside her. He keeps his cock deep inside her, impaling her, keeping his cum within her womanhood. A child right might just be a thought right now now, a passing dream in the future, but it doesn't seem to stop her lover from keeping as much of his cum inside her as possible. The effort is all for naught though. He already knows the moment his cock dislodges from her warm pussy, his milk will flow out her hole along with it, dripping down her thigh and coating her petals. "Should I just stay inside you? Keep my seed within you as long as possible?" Riven asks with a mischievous smile, wiggling his hips as his drained cock prods along the walls of her pussy. "Or maybe there's still a few more adventures you need to attend first?"

He already knows the answer. Slowly, his cock begins to dislodge. His chest compresses against hers and both arms wrap around her shoulders. He could kiss her like this until morning. It might be for the best. The only chance of them not engaging in another devastating fight is if their lips are otherwise indisposed.
 
His hand clamped over her nose and mouth, stifling the moans he elicited from her while she trembled through her orgasm, making her struggle for breath when she needed it most–which only served to make her climax last longer and surge deeper from within. When finally she had settled, their mouths met once again until he replaced her tongue with his fingers, licking them clean of her juices while still easing his cock in and out of her.

He rolled her onto her stomach, tugging her hair back until she was forced to look at him. Then he laid on top of her, shoving his dick back inside her tight hole and making it impossible for her to move beneath him. She was confused when he first spanked her, hadn’t he just screamed at her about this? And now he was using her like a fuck toy, smothering her face in the mattress and striking her while he kept her pinned and helpless. Under most circumstances, she would have been into it, but after that fight, she felt like she was receiving mixed signals. Had she done something wrong? Already?

Eventually, he flipped her over, ankles spread wide as he continued to exert his control over her. He entered her again, faster and harder until he roared his release and spilled his seed into the back of her pussy. His question earned him a short laugh and a roll of her eyes as she pushed him off of her, their lips entwined as she turned onto her side, their legs tangled together in the sheets. ”Nothing’s going to stop me from adventuring, mon coeur.” Her men would just have to learn to put up with her while pregnant. She was sure it wouldn’t be much different than how she was now, just wider.

”But you need to build us a house and I need to find a place to keep my fleet.” They would also need to decide on locations for each of those things. She knew Riven had some land in Northumbria, but not much else about it. Truly, as long as she had her ships, she didn’t care where they settled. Jaedaxia would always be a voyage away and it wasn’t like she had any pressing matters in the city. There were a lot of things to think about and prepare for if they were going to do this right. For once, she wanted to plan instead of jumping in head first and floundering her way to a resolution. Their child deserved better than that.

”Besides,” she said, smoothing a palm over the curve of his ass and tugging their hips closer together. ”I’m not done enjoying our alone time yet. I want as many of these moments as possible before a crying baby ruins them.” Not the most motherly thing to say, but she had time to ease into the role.
 
"Build us a house!?" Riven exclaims with a laugh. The suggestion interrupts him as he slides out from her warmth, and begins entangling their legs once more. "I've built plenty of houses on my lands at Bärentatze. Maybe if you ever decide to visit, you would see my handiwork for yourself." The lands he's forged in the Northumbrian forests mean as much to him as the sea means to Rosie. It's a home and an escape at the same time. Not exactly a castle, mind you. Rosie would have to find some Northumbrian duke to treat her to such accommodations anytime soon. But it's enough for him, and plenty of space for little black bears.

"We have one dock, but I'm sure we could build more... for the right incentive..." Riven reciprocates her hand on his ass, and begins lining his own fingers over her legs and hips. They rest on her cheeks for a while, squeezing the sore spot where his belt branded her skin. The smile on his face is impossible to discard. He places a kiss on her lips, nuzzles their forehead together, and considers with equal parts joy and, admittedly, nerves the idea of their alone moments being interrupted by a baby's wails.

"No need to rush any of that," he reassures her. He distracts himself by finding her fingers with a free hand and kissing their knuckles one at a time. "Babies can wait for you to be ready. For us to be ready. After all, we can't have Madame Kyrillos thinking we were listening to her 'not much time left for grandchildren' speech." It would be an interesting family dinner in Jaedaxia next time around. Maybe if Rosie's belly was a bit swollen for their return to Mére, Riven would no longer need to endure the stares of his mother in-law ... or, wait, was that he called her? Girlfriend's mum sounds awful. In fact, girlfriend sounds pretty inadequate. But what else? The thought of vicars and churches and vows is enough to onset a headache, but it's still better than girlfriend. They weren't teens anymore.

He didn't want to think anymore. Just be in the moment and enjoy her embrace. Eventually, their body heat beneath the sheets draws both their eyes heavy. Her beautiful Jaedaxienne lips is the last thing he sees in that early morning. He sleeps soundly with her wrapped around him and doesn't wake up until the afternoon. A grin pours over his face when he sees her face still nestled into his chest, and he returns his eyes shut until she stirs awake.
 
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