Ambushed

Ciri’s eyes opened slowly, the stench of sex and cum filling her nostrils. Her head rested on Caleb’s thigh, her cheek nearly pressed against his cock. She blinked back surprise for a moment, her hand trailing up his leg. She would wake him with her mouth she decided, a gentle kiss on his shaft, then her lips around the head. That ever-present warmth pooled between her legs at the thought. Then she heard it, the reason she had awoken in the first place, someone or something was outside the tent.

She froze, and without moving she watched and listened. Where was her sword? Her clothes, she tried to think but found herself unable to remember, it was probably nothing, at most a deer. She looked down at the flaccid cock in front of her and she licked her lips.

She leaned down, pressing her lips against his side, kissing his shaft. Hoping he would awake soon and take her again when she heard another noise, not a deer, men.

She looked up and noticed Caleb was staring at the tent's wall as well.

“Stay,” he whispered and he slowly and quietly reached for his blade, and pants. He was too noisy she thought absentmindedly but did not move or make an effort to stop him.

It happened in an instant, as soon as he moved near the tent’s opening, a shout from outside, then the familiar hollow thwip of a crossbow bolt in the air. It hit Caleb square in the chest and sent him stumbling backwards into the tent with a shocked cry.

She watched as he turned to look at her, confusion and pain plain in his face. Did he want her to help him? Did he expect her to help him? Blood seeped from the wound in the chest, leaking out from where the bolt stuck. She watched as his eyes fluttered shut, his mouth opened and a gurgling groan escaped his lips but he did not speak.

“Got em’” Someone called out from outside. Ciri turned seeing a large, dirt-covered hand pull back the tent's entrance, he glanced at the dying man before him, then away from her then back to her. He paused, shocked to find her there, his eyes drifting down her naked chest before skirting back to Caleb, then back to her.

He wore a dirty leather tunic, his hands caked in enough dirt and grim that his skin was nearly black. He smiled at her with a near-toothless grin. She heard more commotion outside. They were the bandits they had been warned about. Had they been watching them all this time, waiting for a moment to strike or had they happened upon them by chance and thought the single large tent and two horses and mules an easy target.

“Boss,” the toothless man called fully stepping into the tent, he kept one hand on the hilt of a knife on his belt, “you’re gonna wanna see this.”