Rough Repayment

Lae’zel’s tent was dark and spare, the lantern casting sharp angles on the canvas walls. She stood in the center, already undoing the clasps of her chest armor with practiced, deliberate movements.

“I do not need coaxing,” she said, not looking at me. “Let us proceed.”

She peeled away the final layer and let it fall to the mat. The air inside was warmer than outside, but her skin was already flushed. Not just from heat. There was intent behind her motion—not seductive in the traditional sense, but something uniquely hers. A challenge. She didn’t soften or sway, but she shifted her stance, just enough that the full lines of her bare form stood proud in the dim light, daring me to react.

Her breasts were firm, full from exertion and rigid posture, her body still honed into the practical shape of a warrior. Her skin, taut over muscle, shimmered slightly with sweat and a kind of anticipation she’d never admit to aloud.

I stepped forward, close enough to feel her breath, and placed one hand at the top of her head, the other brushing her jaw. Her eyes didn’t flicker. She held my gaze.

I activated the first dual pulse.

The energy surged through her scalp, down her spine, while the second wave rolled across her jaw and into her throat. Her breath caught. Her knees bent slightly, instinctively, and her lips parted, though no sound came.

“Continue,” she commanded, her voice strained and lower than usual.

I slid my hands down over her shoulders, tracing the edges of her collarbones, the path deliberate. Her skin twitched under my touch. I stopped just at the curve of her breasts, fingers resting at the upper slope, feeling the warmth of her flesh.

She looked at me, eyes wide but steady, pride and anticipation burning behind her gaze.

I pressed my palms against her breasts and sent the second dual pulse.

She gasped through gritted teeth. Her back arched, her fists clenched at her sides. The muscles of her abdomen rippled. A fine sheen of sweat formed along her neck. Her thighs shifted, ever so slightly, betraying tension.

“You are... thorough,” she managed, her jaw tight. But the flush in her cheeks and chest told the rest.

I didn’t speak. My thumbs moved, brushing her nipples—already swollen, firm. I pressed in, and released the third dual pulse.

Lae’zel’s whole body shivered. She let out a low, guttural moan as her knees buckled and caught herself. Her chest heaved, her breath shallow and hot. She trembled under my hands but didn’t move away.

When I pulled back, she straightened slowly, exhaling hard. Her eyes met mine with heat—and something sharper underneath.

She moved forward, fast. Her hands went to my belt, unfastening it with quick movements. She reached into my trousers and pulled my cock free, her grip already tight.

[Lae'zel: corruption +2]

She stroked with purpose—eager, almost aggressive. But her strength, barely restrained, proved too much. The pressure was too firm, the pace too fast. What might’ve been overwhelming pleasure instead edged toward discomfort.

I flinched, catching her wrist. “Wait—slow down.”

She froze. Her grip loosened, but her face remained impassive.

“You did not find that enjoyable?,” she said flatly, but there was hesitation behind the words.

“It’s okay,” I said. “Just... not like that.”

Her jaw flexed. She stepped back, straightening her posture again, wrapping herself in the armor of her silence. But I could see the tension in her shoulders.

“.. I wanted to repay you,” she said finally. “For what you do. Keeping us from turning. Clearly, I still need to—” She cut herself off. “I will find a way. Next time.” She looked at me with a determined frown.

I gave her a nod and turned to leave.

Stepping out of the tent, the firelight greeted me again, and with it, a ray of heat reached my face.

Karlach stood next to the cauldron—completely naked, her arms stretched wide over the rim, fire curling around her, eyes glinting with anticipation.

She grinned the words. “Come here, soldier~”