In Kuroinu

The knock came three nights later.

I'd been lying in the dark thinking about the demon lord's mark and what it meant and how many days I had before the things I knew were coming started arriving, and the knock pulled me out of it. Two soft taps.

I got up. Opened the door.

Tianne.

Her hair was down. I'd never seen it loose like this, falling past her shoulders in dark waves, and she was wearing a white nightgown instead of her priestess robes. Simple cotton. It hung off her shoulders and stopped at her knees and she was barefoot on the cold stone floor. Her hands were clasped in front of her the same way they always were, except they were shaking.

"I've been praying about this for three days," she said.

I leaned against the doorframe. "What did the gods say?"

"They didn't answer." She looked up at me and her brown eyes were wide and steady and scared. "So I'm deciding for myself."

I held out my hand.

She took it. Her fingers were cold. I pulled her inside and closed the door and the room was dark except for the moonlight through the narrow window. She stood in the middle of the room with her hands clasped again and her bare feet on the stone and she was trembling.

"Sit down," I said.

She sat on the edge of the cot. I sat beside her. Her leg was an inch from mine and she was radiating warmth through the cotton nightgown even though her hands were freezing.

"Tianne. What do you want?"

She looked at her hands in her lap. Her fingers twisted together. The faint glow of her healing magic flickered at her fingertips.

"I want..." She stopped. Tried again. "I've been thinking about... what the power requires. And what it would mean. For me. For the party."

"I didn't ask what the power requires. I asked what you want."

Her chin came up. Her lips were parted and her eyes were bright in the moonlight and the glow at her fingertips died and her hands went still.

She couldn't say it.

I kissed her.

Soft. Slow. I leaned in and put my mouth on hers and she went rigid for a second and then her lips moved against mine and she was warm, warm everywhere, her mouth and her breath and the skin of her jaw when my hand found it. She tasted like chamomile and honey and she kissed me back carefully. Her hand came up and rested on my chest, over my heart. The lightest pressure. Her healing magic pulsed once through her palm, faint, involuntary, and the warmth of it spread under my skin.

I pulled back. Her eyes were closed. Her lips were still parted and her breath was shaking.

"Was that okay?" I asked.

She opened her eyes. "Yes." A whisper. "Again."

I kissed her again. Deeper this time, my hand sliding from her jaw to the back of her neck, and she made a small sound against my mouth and her fingers curled into my shirt. I pulled her closer and her body pressed against my side, the cotton nightgown thin between us, and her heartbeat came through the fabric. Fast.

I slid the nightgown off her shoulder. She let me. The fabric pooled at her elbow and the cool air touched her skin and I kissed the exposed collarbone and she tipped her head back and her breathing hitched. The golden glow flickered at her fingertips where they gripped my shirt.

I pulled the nightgown over her head. She lifted her arms and then she was sitting on my cot in the moonlight in nothing and her hands came up immediately to cover her breasts.

"Don't," I said.

Her eyes were wet. She was looking at me and her lower lip was between her teeth and her hands were pressed flat against her chest and she was shaking.

I took her wrists. Gentle. Moved her hands down to her sides and held them there.

"Don't hide," I said.

She was slender, smaller than Filia, with narrow shoulders and a softness to her stomach and hips that came from a body that healed rather than fought. Her breasts were smaller, round, her nipples dark and tight in the cool air. The scar above her eyebrow. The lavender smell of her hair. Moonlight on her skin.

I let go of her wrists. She didn't cover herself again.

I pulled my shirt off. She watched. Her eyes followed my hands and then moved over my chest and her gaze lingered on the scratch marks Filia had left on my shoulders from two nights ago and her jaw tightened for a second before she smoothed it away.

I laid her back on the cot. She went down slowly, her blonde hair fanning across the pillow, and she looked up at me with those wide brown eyes and I kissed her forehead and then her mouth and then her throat and she arched when my lips found the hollow at the base of her neck.

"Ah-" Quiet. Barely a sound. More breath than voice.

I kissed down between her breasts. The skin there was warm and her heartbeat came through my lips, fast and hard. Over her stomach. She sucked in her belly when my mouth crossed her navel and her hand found my hair and gripped, not pulling, just holding. I kissed lower. Her hip bone. The crease where her thigh met her body, and the skin there was hot and she flinched at the contact.

"Haruto. You don't have to-"

"I want to."

"But that's-" Her voice caught. "Filia said you did- that you-"

"She told you?"

"She didn't mean to. I asked about the power activation and she got flustered and-" She stopped. Her face was red even in the moonlight. "I'm talking too much."

"You're nervous."

"Yes."

"That's fine." I kissed her inner thigh and she trembled. Her skin was soft there, warm, and her pulse was hammering through the muscle under my lips. "Tell me to stop if you want me to stop."

"I don't want you to stop." Whispered. Barely audible.

I put my mouth on her.

Her thighs clamped shut around my head and then loosened and her hips lifted off the cot and her hand in my hair pulled tight. I licked slowly, flat tongue, tasting her, and she was barely wet, the arousal just starting, and her whole body was shaking. The faint golden glow pulsed at her fingertips in my hair.

"Oh- oh that's-"

I found her clit with my tongue and circled it and she made a sound that was more exhale than moan, long and shuddering, and her free hand gripped the sheet beside her hip. I worked her slowly. She was tight and tense and every touch made her flinch and then lean into it and I followed the pattern of her body, retreating when she pulled away, pressing forward when she pushed toward me.

She was getting wetter. Each pass of my tongue drew more from her and the taste deepened and the friction decreased. The quiet wet sounds of my mouth on her filled the silence of the room. Her breathing was faster now, through her mouth, shallow catches when my tongue hit the spot.

"More." A whisper. I almost missed it.

I slid a finger into her. She clenched around it immediately, tight, hot, and my tongue kept moving on her clit and her hips started rolling against my mouth in small involuntary circles. Her thighs were warm against my ears. The glow at her fingertips brightened in my hair, pulsing.

"More- please- I-"

I added a second finger and curled them forward and her back arched off the cot. Her hand ripped out of my hair and slapped against the wall behind the cot and she pressed her palm flat against the stone. I curled my fingers and circled her clit and her pussy was clenching around me in rhythmic pulses, faster, tighter, and she was making sounds that were barely sounds at all, tiny broken whispers that I had to strain to hear over her breathing.

The golden light was bright now. Her hand on the wall was glowing, the light spreading under her skin, visible even from between her thighs. Her eyes were on the ceiling and her mouth was open and her chest was heaving.

She came.

Silent. Her entire body locked, arched off the cot, every muscle taut, her hand white-knuckled on the sheet and her other palm pressed hard against the stone wall. Her pussy clenched around my fingers in deep waves and she held there with her mouth open and no sound coming out. The golden light flared from her hand, bright enough to throw shadows across the ceiling. Then one sharp gasp and she collapsed back onto the cot and lay there shaking.

I stayed. Slower. Gentler. Her thighs were trembling against my head and her hand found my hair again and stroked it, gentle this time. I kissed her thigh and moved up beside her.

She was staring at the ceiling. Her chest was heaving and her eyes were glassy and there were tears on her cheeks. She wiped them with the back of her hand.

"I'm fine," she said before I could ask. "I'm fine. That was-" She turned her head and looked at me and her lips were shaking. "I didn't know it could feel like that."

I brushed the hair off her face. The dark strands were stuck to her neck with sweat and her skin was flushed from her cheeks down to her chest. The golden glow had faded to embers at her fingertips.

"You okay?"

"Yes." She reached for me. Her hand found the front of my pants and pressed flat and she felt me hard under the fabric and her fingers curled around me through the cloth. Her grip was gentle. Healer's hands. Careful. She stroked once through the fabric and I sucked in a breath and her eyes widened. "I want to."

"We don't have to-"

"I want to. Please."

I took my pants off. She watched, her eyes dropping, and when I moved over her she put her arms around my neck and pulled me down and our foreheads touched. Her skin was hot against mine. Lavender and sweat and sex and the green smell underneath it all, and her breasts pressed soft against my chest and my cock rested against her thigh, hard, and she could feel it because her breath caught.

"Go slow," she said against my mouth.

I reached between us. Lined myself up. She was wet from the orgasm, slick and hot and swollen, and when the head pressed against her she tensed. I pushed in slowly.

The first inch. Tight. Her arms tightened around my neck and her forehead pressed harder against mine and her breath came fast against my lips. I stopped.

"Keep going," she said. She shook her head against mine. "Don't stop. Just- slow."

Deeper. She was tight around me and hot and each inch made her breath catch differently, a small sound on each one. Her arms pulled me closer. Her fingers dug into my back. The golden glow pulsed at her fingertips against my skin, warm, involuntary.

All the way in. I held there. She was wrapped around me, arms and legs, her heels settling against my lower back, and her whole body pressed against mine. I could feel her heartbeat from the inside, fast and strong. She held me there. I held still. We breathed together.

"Okay," she said. Quiet. "Okay. Move."

I moved. Slow. Out and back in, a gentle rhythm, and her hips shifted under me to meet each stroke. The drag of her on the outstroke, tight and wet, and the slide back in, easier each time. Her arms were around my neck and her face was pressed against my shoulder and she was right against my ear. Soft sounds that were almost words.

"Mm." On the instroke.

"Ah." When I pushed deeper.

"There." A whisper when I found the angle.

I stayed on the angle. Each thrust slow and deliberate, pressing the same spot, and her breathing changed against my ear. Faster. The whispers got closer together. Her hips found my rhythm and moved with it, a slow rolling motion, and the wet sounds of us together were quiet and constant.

My cock was aching. The slow pace was building it in low waves, heavy at the base of my spine, and every squeeze of her around me made it worse. Her pussy was gripping me on the outstroke, releasing on the in, and the tight heat of her was everywhere and I wanted to go harder and I didn't because she'd said slow.

Her fingers moved through my hair. Her breath was warm and steady against my ear and she whispered my name.

"Haruto."

Like a prayer.

Her healing magic was glowing against my back. Her fingertips warm and golden against my skin, pulsing with her heartbeat.

"Haruto- I'm-"

I kissed her. Her mouth opened against mine and she breathed into me and her pussy was clenching around my cock in long slow waves, squeezing tighter on each stroke. My own orgasm was building, heavy and close, and I pushed deeper and she gasped into my mouth.

"Nn- Haruto- please-"

I came. Inside her, deep, my hips pressed flush against hers, and a golden pulse spread from my chest through my arms and legs and into her. She gasped, her eyes flying open, and her hands came off my shoulders and her fingertips blazed. Golden light, warm, pulsing in time with her heartbeat, bright enough that the room glowed.

She looked at her hands.

"Oh," she said.

I was still inside her. She hadn't let me go. Her legs were still wrapped around me and her arms came back to my neck and she held me there, close, forehead against mine, and she breathed and I breathed and the golden light at her fingertips faded slowly.

She didn't let me pull out. Her heels pressed against my back and she held me inside her and her eyes were closed and her lips were moving and I was pretty sure she was praying.

I waited. Her body was warm against mine and her heartbeat was slowing down and the moonlight was coming through the window and landing on her shoulder. The golden glow at her fingertips dimmed and then went dark and then pulsed once more, faint, and went still.

After a while she opened her eyes.

"Stay," she said. "Please."

I stayed.

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