The tavern had quieted to a murmur as the last patrons filtered out, leaving the air heavy with the lingering scents of ale, roasted meat, and faint traces of perfume. Max stood at the base of the creaking wooden staircase, watching Lyria ascend ahead of him. Her platinum hair shimmered in the dim glow of lanterns, cascading over her back like liquid silver. Each step she took revealed the confident sway of her hips, her leather armor hugging her lithe frame in a way that accentuated her elven elegance.
Lyria glanced back at him, her emerald eyes sparkling with mischief and something far deeper. A coy smile played on her lips, as if she relished his attention.
"Are you coming?" she teased, her voice soft yet filled with a challenge.
Without a word, Max followed. His crimson eyes glinted in the low light, his movements silent and graceful as a predator's. The wooden steps groaned faintly beneath his boots, the sound absorbed into the intimacy of the moment. He couldn't help but let his gaze drift, admiring the way her armor emphasized her slender waist and the curve of her figure.
When they reached the landing, Lyria led him down a dimly lit corridor to a door near the end. She paused, resting her hand on the latch, and turned to face him. The playful light in her eyes softened, replaced by an unspoken curiosity.
"You're different, Max," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not sure whether that excites me or terrifies me."
He stepped closer, his tall frame looming over her as he leaned down slightly. "Why not both?" he murmured, his voice a low, velvety rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.
Her lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. Instead, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, motioning for him to follow. Max entered, closing the door behind them with a quiet click that seemed to seal them away from the world outside.
The room was modest but inviting, dominated by a large bed with thick blankets and a small hearth that cast flickering shadows across the walls. A single window let in the soft glow of moonlight, painting silver streaks across the wooden floor. Lyria turned to face him, her hands moving to the clasps of her leather armor.
"I've always wondered," she began, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability, "what drives someone like you. Power? Revenge? Or something… simpler?"
Max took a step closer, his crimson eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. "Why don't we start with this moment and figure out the rest later?"
A faint blush rose to her cheeks as his hands brushed hers aside, taking over the task of undoing her armor. The clasps came undone with practiced ease, and the pieces fell away one by one, revealing the soft linen shirt and snug breeches beneath. His fingers grazed her shoulders as he worked, the lightest touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.
When the last piece of leather hit the floor, Lyria stood before him, her slender frame outlined in the glow of the hearth. Her shirt clung to her in places, hinting at the delicate curves beneath. Max's gaze roamed over her appreciatively, taking in the smooth column of her neck, the graceful lines of her collarbone, and the gentle rise of her chest. Her breasts, modest but perfectly proportioned, pressed lightly against the fabric, their shape tantalizing in the dim light.
"You're staring," she said, her tone teasing though her voice was breathless.
Max's lips curved into a smirk. "Can you blame me?"
She stepped closer, her hands finding the edges of his shirt. Tugging it upward, she revealed the toned muscles of his chest and abdomen, each contour telling a story of battles fought and survived. Her fingers lingered, tracing the lines of his body with a mix of curiosity and admiration.
"You're full of surprises," she murmured, her voice barely audible. "Not just strength, but control."
Max reached out, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss. It was slow at first, exploratory, but quickly deepened as their mutual hunger took over. His other hand slid to her waist, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together. Her soft curves molded against the hard planes of his form, the contrast sending a jolt of desire through them both.
Lyria's hands moved to his belt, her fingers nimble as they worked to free him from the confines of his trousers. Her touch was hesitant at first, but the way he responded—a sharp intake of breath, the way his muscles tensed beneath her hands—emboldened her. When she finally pushed the fabric away, revealing him fully, her eyes widened slightly, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
"You…" She trailed off, her cheeks flushing as she met his gaze. Her voice was barely a whisper when she finished, "Impressive."
Max chuckled softly, his confidence unwavering. "I'll take that as a compliment."
Her fingers brushed against him tentatively, exploring with a mixture of wonder and nervousness. Max's crimson eyes darkened, his breath hitching as her touch sent waves of heat coursing through him. He reached out, his hands slipping beneath her shirt to caress her skin. Her breath caught as his palms cupped her breasts, his thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks through the fabric. The sensation drew a soft moan from her, her body arching into his touch.
"Lyria," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "You're stunning."
She blushed deeper, her usual composure slipping as she surrendered to the intensity of his gaze and touch. Slowly, he lifted her shirt over her head, revealing the porcelain skin beneath. Her body was exquisite, every curve and contour accentuated by the soft glow of the hearth and the silvery light from the window. Max's hands explored her with reverence, his touch firm yet gentle, drawing gasps and shivers from her with every movement.
Their movements slowed as the weight of the moment settled over them. Max leaned down, his lips brushing against her collarbone before trailing lower. Each kiss left a trail of heat, his mouth mapping the delicate lines of her body. When he reached her chest, he paused, his lips closing around her sensitive skin with a tenderness that made her gasp.
"Max…" she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands found his shoulders, pulling him closer in her body.
He paused only briefly, his lips curving into a soft, mischievous smile before continuing his exploration, he began to move his tongue to one of her beautiful peaks, where a pale pink cherry was standing on top of it, which he first circled with tongue and then quickly took into his mouth. While Max's tongue was occupied with the cherry on the left peak, he did not forget to pay attention to the right one, which he was crushing with his right hand like a delicate marshmallow.With Max's strong and intense caresses on her sensitive spots, Lyria could not hold back much and the first small stream of liquid came out of her sacred cave as she pressed Max even harder into her as if she wanted to crush him inside her.
Max stopped and raised his blood-red eyes to stare into her sky-blue ones. Seeing her state, her misty eyes, deep breaths and her sticking out tongue, a flame was lit inside him to see more moments like this. He decides to go down even lower, where her honey barrel was located, and there some honey was slowly falling out of it. Seeing this sight, Max leans closer to it and gives a light kiss, and unexpectedly, Lyria lets a light moan escape her mouth. Max did not stop there and decides to study her internal layout more thoroughly after the kiss so he penetrates her with a tongue and starts circulating in circles, going up and down. Lyria squeezes his head with her plump thighs and pushes him further inside with hands.
After a few minutes of actively exploring her internal structure and squeezing her double peaks with free hands
"Aaaaahhhhhh" *Squirt*Squirt*
Lyria washes Max with her wonderful liquids, which makes Max's hair wet and small streams run down his face. After that, Lyria's plump thighs, which had been wrapped around Max, fall onto the bed and her arms lose their strength. Looking at this mess, Max can't help but smile as her mounds rise and fall from her heavy sighs, her eyes roll, and her tongue hangs out to the side, coating her plump lips with saliva and silver hair scattered on the bed. His rod agrees and throbs even harder.