Comforting Company

Shadowheart's tent glowed dimly in the lanternlight. I walked across the camp, fingers still tender and cock still aching.

As I stepped inside, she was already kneeling. Her body tucked low, eyes turned slightly away—but not in shame. She was flustered, her cheeks pink from earlier, likely from being caught earlier tonight. She had stripped down to only her purple panties—elegant and trimmed, clinging to her newly enhanced curves.

She looked up at me and reached without a word, taking my burned hands into hers. Her fingers moved with practiced care, healing energy pooling beneath her skin.

"You take too many risks just to help us," she said, softly.

"Not a problem, as long as I have you to fix me," I said, watching her hands glow faintly with magic.

"I don't mind," she answered softly. "Shar's path can be lonely. It teaches you to keep your heart guarded and your voice unheard."

I said nothing. She glanced up, hesitant.

"Worshiping her always meant isolation. Secrecy. Doubt. But with you here... I don't feel that so much. I... I like the company." Her voice was quiet, unsure, but there was a warmth behind it that felt honest. Like the words surprised her even as she said them.

I leaned forward. "I'm glad. Sharing that must not have been easy."

Her lips trembled.

"Oddly enough, it gets easier each time" she whispered with a smile.

Then she leaned forward and opened her mouth, her hand still wrapped around mine. She took me in smoothly, lips parting with deliberate control. Warmth. Wetness. Tongue.

Her style was nothing like Lae'zel's statue-still submission. Shadowheart moved with purpose. Alternating sucking and licking. Tongue pressing in slow circles around the tip. She was learning me—memorizing every vein and twitch with the reverence of a slow, deep prayer.

She pulled back, eyes half-lidded. "You taste... Alien tonight."

I didn't say why.

She said nothing, just nodded, and lowered herself again.

Her hand now resting on my thigh for balance. Her back arched slightly as she bobbed in rhythm, not frantically, but with commitment. Every slurp and wet sound was deliberate. A silent chorus of worship.

I placed my hands gently on either side of her head and began to pulse small bursts of pleasure into her. The magic slid down her scalp, into her nerves, but she didn’t react much. A small shiver. No tremble.

So I shifted tactics.

I reached down, cupping her breasts through the soft rise of her body, found her nipples, and rolled them between thumb and finger. Her mouth paused briefly on my cock as a tiny gasp escaped her nose.

I released a pulse.

She moaned around me—quiet, but needy. Her hips twitched where she knelt.

Another squeeze. Another pulse. Her orgasm bloomed gently, her thighs clenching together as her lips tightened around me.

She went deeper. Harder.

Her brow furrowed. She made small **** sounds—not full gags, but discomfort balanced on the edge of desire. Her face flushed. She tried again.

I twisted both nipples at once, timing each squeeze to the rhythm of her breath. As I pulsed eldritch pleasure through my fingertips, I watched the reaction crawl up her spine. Her hips bucked forward, and she moaned louder, the sound muffled around my cock. Another twist—another ripple—each one timed like a beat, like I was playing her body.

Small orgasms came in lulling waves, her thighs clenching with every surge, eyes rolling back as she trembled on her knees. Each one stronger. Messier. Beautiful.

She pushed further, cock stretching the back of her throat, tears edging the corners of her eyes as she whined through her nose and took more. Her body trembled. The pain and pleasure merged behind her flushed cheeks, behind the soft moan vibrating down my lenght.

I groaned, then released thick pulses of cum into her throat. She held, swallowing instinctively, her jaw still working to keep pace with each twitch.

When I finished, she pulled back slowly, my cock wet with a spit and leftover semen. Her eyes were glassy. Her cheeks red. Her lips parted, a trail of seed across her tongue.

"Thank you," she whispered, hoarse. And she smiled.

A small, honest smile. Meek. Submissive. Grateful.

[Shadowheart: +3 Corruption]

I touched her cheek briefly. She leaned into it.

No more words passed, as we stood like that for a minute.

I turned and stepped outside, the cool air brushing over sweat-slick skin. My legs felt heavy, the afterglow settling like fog across my thoughts. I walked to my mat near the fire and dropped down slowly, every part of me buzzing and spent in the best possible way.

I exhaled hard, rolled onto my back, and stared up at the stars.

Yeah. I could get used to this.