Into My Arms

Author's Note: A bit of body worship

It was a fine day to travel. The air was crisp, but the sun was shining brightly. Beric relished the feel of Sylvie pressed against his back, the motion of the horse gently rocking her into him.

They were heading South, continuing the Brotherhood’s original journey. Beric was hoping to catch up with them in three or four days. Along the way, he was supposed to find Sylvie a safe place to live. Not only did he doubt he could find such a place, he did not want to find such a place. What would the Brothers say if he brought her with them, permanently?

 No, no, it simply would not work.

 By late afternoon they started passing more people, some on horseback, others on foot. “I suspect we are near a village. Perhaps they have an inn there, “ he said.

“I hope so, Beric. I'm not used to being on a horse. My back and legs hurt.”

Beric felt badly for her. Riding all day was exhausting, especially if one was unused to it.

 “Tonight, I'll take good care of you, Sylvie,” he said. He pulled her arms even more tightly around his waist. He felt her lips on his back. He pulled one of her hands to his mouth and gently kissed her fingers. Beric wanted her so badly.

 “Let's hope we find that inn soon.”

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Sylvie wanted Beric so much. Pressing closely against his back for hours, her legs spread wide apart, the rocking of the horse...it was too much for her.

Of course, she was tired, sore, and cold. Her dress was pulled up, exposing her legs to the cold. The horse’s hair was scratchy, too. Why couldn't women wear trousers? Sylvie made a mental note to find some men’s breeches to wear while riding.

If she had much opportunity to ride. She had to keep reminding herself this would come to an end soon.

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The Horse and Plough stood at the center of a midsized hamlet. The place was warm and smelled of stew.

 “Sit down and rest while I try to get us a room and dinner.”

The innkeeper and his daughter eyed Beric with curiosity, but they were polite enough. After securing a room he brought stew and ale to Sylvie,

 “Oh, Beric. This smells so good.”

 “Eat up. We can't be sure when our next meal will be.”

Beric still did not enjoy food as much as he once did, but he was pleased to have the hot stew warm his belly. And the ale was wonderful.

Sylvie ate with gusto, he was glad to see. She really was quite thin.

“You'll be happy to know the innkeeper’s daughter is taking a small washtub of hot water to our room,” he smiled and stroked her arm. “I hope you'll let me bathe you,”

She blushed and said, “Can we go now?”

“Yes,” he said, anticipating the night ahead, feeling aroused already.

The room was small but clean, and the washbasin was filled with hot, soapy water.

Beric pulled his wife close and kissed her hungrily while undressing her. She moaned softly.

 “Let me bathe you,” he said. God, she was beautiful in the candlelight. The basin wasn't big enough to sit in, so Sylvie stood in it while Beric took a cloth and gently washed her. He started with her face, wiping away the day’s dust, and then he moved slowly down, lavishing attention on every part of her. She trembled when he parted her legs and carefully washed her, licking and kissing, taking his time.

 “Oh my gods,” she cried when she reached her peak. After she caught her breath, Sylvie said, “It's your turn now.”

 Beric traded places with her. The water was cold now, but he didn't care. All that mattered was the feel of her hands on him. It wasn't just the physical sensation. It was the knowledge that someone loved him this much. He had never felt this loved, or at least he couldn't remember it if he had. He shivered while she moved down and around his body, but not just from the cold water.

 After she put down the cloth she started to take him in her mouth, but he stopped her.

 “Let's move to the bed,” he said and guided her there.

 He knelt on the bed and positioned Sylvie in front of him, facing downward.

 “Is this okay?” he asked while putting one arm around her waist and gently pushing her shoulders down to the pillow.

 “Mmmm,” she murmured, pushing her bottom back against his hard cock.

He wanted to be slow and gentle, but he couldn't help himself, the feel of her warm ass, her wetness, her willingness, pushing him past his control. He drove into her and grazed his teeth against her shoulder, as she liked.

“Beric,” she said, breathlessly, “Whisper in my ear.”

She had asked him to do that before, to feverishly whisper in her ear until she exploded.

 “I want you so badly, my girl. I want to lie with you every night, every day…”

She was panting faster now. He moved one hand down between her legs, while he steadied himself with the other.

“I want to ride you until…” He heard her cry out, and then he couldn't speak. His orgasm hit hard, his other senses shutting down. Beric’s legs were shaking from the position, but he never wanted to pull out of her.

Soon he had to, though, and he lay by her side, both of them winded and sweaty.

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 Sylvie was worn out but in bliss. She loved listening to Beric’s voice, in any context, but especially when she was close to her release. Often, that was all it took to push her over the edge. His deep voice, sometimes a purr, sometimes a growl, was like another hand caressing her. His hot breath tickled her ear, sending delicious shivers through her body.

She knew she would sleep well tonight. But first, Sylvie wanted to tell Beric the troubling realization she had during the journey.

“Beric?”

He was perfectly still and didn't respond. She put a hand on his face.

“Beric, are you asleep?”

He responded with a grunt. Sylvie knew he was already mostly asleep. She did not want to wake him, but keeping this secret…

No, she thought. It's not a secret. It's just her anxious mind casting around for problems. She would not say anything until she was sure.