On The Road Again...

[Anonymous]

Okay. Deep breath. Lots of those. Lots. They weren't coming easily, but he could try at least.

Focus on nice, safe, boring things. Counting to ten was a good one. Trying to do a mental catalogue of all the things in the back of the Wonder Tent. Cold water. Really cold water. Really cold.

It wasn't doing much good!

As long as he didn't completely disgrace himself...oh, this was going to be difficult. Every time she breathed out and tickled the skin on his belly, it got a little more so.

Without thinking about it, his fingers walked along a pale stretch of skin on the back of her neck, traced the lumps at the top of her spine that had been laid bare when she lowered her head. Did she even know about the freckles there, scattered in random constellations between her shoulders?

He'd have loved to know what each one tasted like...

Yep. This was going to be really difficult.

[Anonymous]

Michael shivered at the light touch along her back, but she didn't pause in her tasting of Sasha's skin. Such a fun little toy she had to play with, all that spunk was refreshing. One small, calloused hand gripped the base of Sasha's cock and Michael lowered her mouth around it.

Working slowly, she got used to the size of him, tongue sliding along his shaft, tasting his skin and the saltiness of his precum. So deliciously male.

[Anonymous]

Right. That's it.

Words gone. All gone. Bzzt. No thoughts. Never coming back, because this?

This was fucking perfect.

He couldn't help it. There was just so much to look at - the slight frown of concentration that furrowed her brow every time she came up for air, the furious focus of her...was this what she looked like when she was training? Was this what she saw on that big full-length mirror in the corner, when she was busy sparring with her own shadow?

And the little sounds...
 
He tried to focus on a crack in the ceiling. It wasn't working.

Hands stroking her hair, her neck, the firm, sleek lines of muscle that ran across her shoulders and down the length of her spine; anywhere he could reach would be good enough right now as long as he got to touch something, and if he got a little rough in his hurry then she'd probably bite down or something to tell him!

No idea what he was saying. Mumbles, just mumbles and half a swallowed grunt, and would it really matter what the words were? That she was beautiful, so beautiful - right now, let's be honest, she was. That this was good oh fuck this was really good...

He might even have called her 'Mishka' once, too wrapped up in the slow curl of heat uncoiling in his stomach. Whoops.

Anything to keep her there. Anything to be sure this didn't stop.

[Anonymous]

When Sasha called her that odd name, Michael lifted her head, her small pink tongue flicking across her lips, "Mishka? Who is that?"

She couldn't say she was jealous, but it did bruise the ego a bit to have someone else's name called in bed. And here she thought she was doing a great job at keeping his focus on her. Her hand started pumping along his shaft and she smiled at Sasha, quick and fierce, "I'll have to get my revenge for that."

[Anonymous]

The words came out eventually. Somehow. He wasn't going to ask how. Her taking a break to talk to him had probably helped, but going straight back in again...not so good for clearing the mind!

"Mishka is...fuck. You. She's you. Now please don't cut anything off?"

He'd been quietly reminding himself not to call her that - what else could she be, when she didn't look like a Michael? - pretty much since he'd known what her name was. It didn't seem like something she'd like, or even particularly want.

Way to fuck up, Sasha.

[Anonymous]

"Me?" Michael frowned, her forehead wrinkling as she tried to work that out, "Is that how you say my name up north? Or is that some endearment you hadn't wanted me to hear?"

How cute when he got all flustered. Luckily for Sasha, it hadn't occurred to her that it was because he didn't think she suited her name. Still working her hand over Sasha, Michael watched his face, enjoying his squirming embarrassment.

[Anonymous]

"Bit of both, lass." If he kept it simple, he was much less likely to disgrace himself. This was a good plan, right?

"Misha or Mishka...it's like...a smaller Michael, shorter Michael. Like Sasha for me. Really Aleksander, but no one's called me that since I was tiny, and even then only when I was bad."

She could pretty much have done anything she wanted right at that point. There was this thing she kept doing with her thumb...

He was trying, though. He was definitely trying. He laughed as a thought struck him, gesturing down at the bearskin.

"Means 'bear', too. A little one. A big bear is 'medved'. Little bear is 'mishka'. In a story for children, if there's a bear...he's always called Michael, so he can also be Mishka."

It took some arranging, but he shifted them around until he could look down at her. Kissed her, briefly - it was always a bit of a strange moment, tasting yourself in someone else's mouth. His fingers wandered down between her legs...

Ah yes. Here was some magic even she could get behind. No matter how many times he did this, no matter how many different women...he never got tired of it. Never quite lost the wonder at the things he could do with just one hand, hardly more than one finger. He smiled.

"Mishka can do things that Michael can't."

[Anonymous]

"Does that mean I can call you Medved?" Michael let Sasha move her, wrapping her arms around her. She could listen to him talk forever, that voice, those stories he told. Something about them was just incredible.

When his hand brushed against her, Michael gave a low, shivering moan. One leg came up, lean and pale, rubbing against Sasha's hip, "Oooooh. Yes. You have amazing hands."

[Anonymous]

"If you want. Never say myself as a bear, but..."

No lies here. No pretending. He'd have cut off his own arm if it meant he could just go for it...but there was something good in knowing he could take his time, too. He wasn't paying in fifteen minute increments or anything; if he could hold out, this could go on for ages. As long as she could stand to have him, as long as he could stand that slow buildng burn that stretched every thought out to breaking point.

The look on her face as his fingers moved...

Yeah. He could stand to look at that for a bit longer. He could look at that for a lot longer, to be honest.

"Fuck..." It came out as a low rumble. At least three separate sentences, blurred into one that she might understand. "I wish...if you could see what I see...holy mother, if you could, you'd never stop looking."

Little bit faster. Little bit rougher. Little bit...well, little bit everything, just more, more now.

That was usually what little shuddering moans meant (she'd shifted her hips up too, dead giveaway) and her leg had curled up to rest against the hollow in his hip, and her hand was still working him over in a jagged, stuttery little rhythm that couldn't have been better if she'd tried...

He'd completely stopped paying attention to anything else, only dimly noticed the thunder of heavy soldiers' boots on the flagstones outside.

"OI! GERROFF 'ER! NOW!"

The shout jerked him right back to reality, just in time to swear loudly as at least four sets of hands grabbed him by the shoulders. Heaven only knew how they'd all found something to grab.

He punched the nearest one - they were all Mordecai, that much was clear - in the head. It all went downhill from there.

[Anonymous]

So close. Sasha worked those magic fingers of his and Michael's hips lifted in motion with them, her nails raking down his back as she got every closer and then-

It was all suddenly a mess. Michael sat straight up, not giving a shit she was naked and her guards were there. Her voice crackled with barely suppressed violence, "What the hell is going on! Derrek! You pox ridden shit eater. What do you think you are doing."

The brawl that was forming was not helping her temper any. Someone was going to pay for this and pay very, very dearly.

[Anonymous]

"Um..."

Now that they had him down - three of the four had to sit on him, which was frankly embarrassing considering the circumstances - the four Mordecai seemed to be having considerably more trouble deciding what they were going to do. Mishka had chosen one as a spokesman, but (like just about everyone who gets volun-told) the bloke didn't seem to know what to do with his tongue.

He kept accidentally staring at her breasts, too, and then tearing his eyes away with an anguished little squeak.

"It's His Lordship. We've...um, we've got a problem at the palace, and His Lordship has asked for you. Carwardine, the manservant..."

Another one of the Mordecai broke in.

"Carwardine's a damned mage."

Sasha spluttered disbelievingly.

Carwardine?

As in Murray Carwardine? The Duke's man, who handled just about every personal need or want Bernard Geisler could ever have?

In just about every deal he'd ever made with the palace population, Murray Carwardine had been Sasha's contact. Fur trim to be sent to the tailors for the Grand Duke's winter layers, to keep them from looking unbecomingly ragged - the man himself may not have cared overly much, but there were some things that politics deemed improper for a head of state! Ivory inlay to repair the handgrips on his flintlocks, or a polished chunk of amber as the pommel stone for a dagger intended as a diplomatic gift. Jewellery for his wife, after a spat (Lord Geisler tried to choose this personally a lot of the time - failed, but tried - but for the sake of discretion...). Mead for the Grand Duke's personal stash, kept in a corner of the palace cellars which, by the sounds of it, might have been one of those small financial decisions His Lordship's wife played no part in.

His Lordship made a decision about some small thing that he didn't have much time to dedicate to, and then handed it over to Carwardine to see that these things were actually done right. They always were done, too.

No way Murray flipping Carwardine was a mage. Not here. Not in Connlaoth.

[Anonymous]

Michael made no effort to cover her nakedness. She just gave Derrek a look that would have frozen much stronger men and crossed her arms under her breasts, making them thrust out even more. "Excuse me? This had better not be a joke or I'll have you three flogged."

Standing in one smooth motion, Michael reached for her pants before glancing over at the tangle of men on her floor, one pale eyebrow raising, "Is there a reason you useless shits are still her? Out!"

The Mordecai, being smart enough to not disobey an order, scattered, leaving Sasha naked and on the floor.

Dressing quickly, Michale's mind raced. Carwardine? There was just no way. She had known the man for years. And if those idiots knew, that meant everyone was going to know. This was bad. This needed to be taken care of fast.

[Anonymous]

Sasha was uncharacteristically quiet as he picked himself up off the floor. It seemed the only thing to do here was to pass across whatever bits of clothing she couldn't reach and otherwise shut the fuck up.

 "...That one's mine. Try this one," he murmured, swapping the shirt he was holding for the much bigger one she'd been about to pull roughly over her head. No wonder she'd grabbed the wrong one - she was in a tearing hurry, and if he looked closely enough he could see her hands shaking. What was it?

Embarrassment at letting a mage through?

Rage?

Fear?

He kissed her on the cheek.

"Thank you Mishka. Now go do what you have to do."

Come to think of it, he wasn't at all sure the Mordecai were going to let him leave. It wouldn't be the first time he'd seen Reajh go into lockdown for a big mage-hunt, and they didn't come any bigger...

-------------------------

Because I felt like making him be a sentimental dweeb one more time before temporarily putting Sasha away in the cupboard with the rest of my toys...:P

[Anonymous]

When Sasha switched the shirts on her, Michael gave a snarl of frustration, yanking the correct one on. Her mind was a whirl, trying to piece everything together. It just made no sense! Muttering to herself as she stalked across the room, Michael started pulling her hair back into a quick, messy braid. She would worry about appearance later.

When Sasha kissed her cheek, Michael froze, blinking up at him in surprise. She had almost forgotten he was there and the gesture surprised her. Giving him a small smile, she gestured to the room, "You can stay here if you want. Have that bath I promised. I'll be back...later."

Without pausing to get her boots on, Michael just slung them over her shoulder and marched out of the room, bellowing for someone to get her horse ready.

((OOC: Now we just need to get that other thread started and wrapped up and they can try for attempt number 2!))

[Anonymous]

Whee, time jump again!
-------------------------------------
It was official. Officially official. Mishka had the best bed in the world, and it was even big enough that his feet didn't hang three inches off the end. Most inn beds were too small.

He'd definitely got the better deal here. Hot bath, soft towel, gigantic bed with more pillows than any single person (or even three people) could need.

He folded his arms behind his head with a pleased sigh. Time to try that trick again, the one with the coin on the end of his nose...

Boots were stamping furiously up the hall outside. The door swung open so violently it bounced back off the wall.

Mishka looked like she wanted to stab something. Hard.

[Anonymous]

A long string of vicious curses exploded from the short woman and she grabbed a metal vase near the door and flung it against the wall where it hit with a loud bang. That scrawny cow! Normally Michael approved of Eloise, but those last few comments had her wanting to rip her hair out.

"Fucking mages!"

That was when she noticed Sasha. With a coin balanced on his nose. With a furious hiss, all her impotent rage at the situation focused on him, "Enjoying yourself?" Her eyes narrowed, her voice sharp enough to cut.

[Anonymous]

Ouch. Her voice nearly crackled with pent up rage, sharp as splinters of ice. If looks could kill...

Sasha kept his voice level. If he played defensive, she'd likely tear his head off. It was probably better to just keep calm and carry on. She'd tell him what the problem was eventually. Maybe.

He sat up, catching the coin on the back of one hand as it fell.

"I take my pleasures where I find them, love. You were off saving Connlaoth from the evils of Murray Carwardine...which, from the sounds of it, didn't go well."

He was already reaching for his stuff. He raised his eyebrows.

"I can go, or I can stay. Your call."

[Anonymous]

That really was not what Michael wanted to hear. She was aware, in the rational part of her brain, that she was being unfair. But that part was being over run by the really pissed off part. Her glare got a little colder and she marched over to where Sasha was half off the bed and she shoved him back onto it.

"Don't even think about it." Her hands slid into his hair and she pressed her lips roughly to his. At this point, she needed to burn off some if his rage and it was either this way or going and finding some poor Mordecai to spar with. And the last time she had done that, the poor kid had ended up with a broken arm.

[Anonymous]

It shocked him almost, how desperate she was. There was need in this, even if she'd never say it, need and heat and raw hunger...something he'd almost call fury. It was like she wanted to draw blood, wanted to rip the breath out of his throat as cleanly as running into a wall. She wanted it to hurt.

Okay. Message received and understood.

His fingers curled, tightening on her hips as he pulled her down closer, grinding back against every move she made just a little bit out of synch. Hard white marks like fingerprints were rising on the stripe of pale skin where her shirt rode up. They might be bruises by tomorrow. The way she was now, he doubted she'd care or even notice they were there.

He laughed. It came out short and sharp like a dog barking. There wasn't enough air in the whole fucking world to do more than speak in staccato little bursts.

"Fierce little Mishka...you'll get what you want..."

The promise of tomorrow's mark was already rising on the soft skin at her throat.

[Anonymous]

Michael let out a low growl as Sasha gripped her harder, grinding against him. She felt like she was going to explode if she didn't release some of this rage inside her and Sasha seemed to be figuring it out.

Until he laughed. And called her fierce. Something about that just rubbed Michael wrong, made her feel talked down to again. Jerking back, Michael snarled at him, "You find me funny?"