Ending A. Witch’s Repose

A drawn out moan of satisfaction tumbles from Morgause’s lips as she leans back in her makeshift tub, legs propped up on the rim, toes flexing in delight.

The charms and gently tinkling bells hanging from the ceiling of her hut twirl lazily above her head as she relishes the warmth of the water within her oversized cauldron. She has always been a practical girl, why bother with a bath when she effectively has one already.

“I’m surprised you can stand to be submerged, after everything you went through.” Caius lounges some feet away, reclined on the layered blankets of her bed. An unfurled scroll trails over one thigh, concealing his recently milked manhood.

“Your commentary is not welcome, Warden.” She narrows her eyes over the lip of the cauldron, “But a fresh mug of elderberry wine would be.”

He chuckles, shaking his head fondly. With a soft grunt, he eases himself up off the bed, padding naked across to Morgause’s alchemy table - currently the dispensary for more than a few bottles of homemade wine. His own recipe.

Caius had worked quickly once he’d received her message: dispatching a familiar of his own to summon reinforcements. The cult’s prisoners had been rescued, and the cult itself disbanded with rather ruthless efficiency. For his own part - Caius admitted to her later, as they lay together on the beach - he’d found himself preoccupied with the potential dangers his new ally might have found herself in.

Though the _Sea_ Shroud is no more, Caius has been able to make a few discrete additions to official Crown documents, and the woods around Corringate are no longer under investigation.

She eyes him hungrily as he passes, sliding one foot further out to brush against his heavy hanging cock, eliciting a satisfying shiver from the muscular Witch-Hunter.

He has certainly provided her preferred form of company, for the last few days. Since leaving Whaler’s Cove behind, they’ve made and drunk wine, engaged in sharp-tongued but companionable debate over the nature and usage of magic, and tumbled in and out of bed more times than she can count. Tumbled on damn near every surface of her hut, to be honest.

She’s tasted him, teased him, taken him and swallowed him at her heart’s content, and still - a rarity for her - finds herself wanting more from him, not just a warm body and a hard cock.

So he can stay, a little longer.

She grins, accepting the mug of wine he offers her with both hands and a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. He drinks in the sight of her naked body, distorted a little in the water, but no less soft and perfect.

“I was thinking I’d venture to Corringate tomorrow. Maybe buy you a new hat.” He smiles, leaning his hip against the warmth of the cauldron, his hands idly massaging her foot.

“Not to rejoin your Cult of Crown sanctioned witch burners?” She queries dryly, sipping at the wine.

“Not yet. I have a few days grace yet, before they expect me back.” He rolls his eyes at the remark, “Besides, I’m not done interrogating you yet.” He gives her calf a soft slap, appraising the flesh of her admirable legs.

She bites her lip, sinking a little lower till her nose is barely out of the water, the messy bun atop her head wobbling precariously. Her skin, already pink and prickly from the heat of the bath, turns a deeper shade.

She catches him shifting his position, and can tell he’s hard again. She slides back up, leaning half out of the cauldron to place her mug on a nearby stool, then beckons him to come around.

“In that case. I shall take this opportunity to gather a few more precious ingredients, so I can finish that love potion and keep you here forever.”

He laughs as he sidles obediently around, his cock bobbing in the air as it stiffens for her. They both know that this is decidedly temporary. That soon enough, she’ll return to her treasured solitude, and he to his duties.

But that doesn’t mean they won’t enjoy each other, thoroughly, Morgause observes, as she leans over the edge of the cauldron, to take him in her mouth once again, lips caressing his shaft with relish.

If there’s one thing she’s learned from all of this, it’s that having company for more than just the odd night, can be a very good thing.

- The End -