Tribunal Kingdom In A Stone Age: Blood, Lust, Gladiators and Milfs
Chapter 68: If You Need It Again… Find A Better Way To Ask Sexy, Than Beating Your Cock!(18+)
Chapter 68: Chapter 68: If You Need It Again... Find A Better Way To Ask Sexy, Than Beating Your Cock!(18+)
The private washing pool sat in a narrow fold of rock behind the lower storage caves, fed by a thin cold spring that ran clear even in the driest months.
Most of the valley used the main channel.
The fold was known, but it was not watched.
People who wanted to clean blood or sweat or the smell of the day from their skin without an audience went there after the midpoint counts, when the paths were thinner and the night pairs were still forming.
Sura went there alone.
She had spent the afternoon on the lower training ground under Elka’s eye, running the same forms until the second-band fighters who drifted too close learned to keep their distance.
The work left her skin salted and her thoughts sharper than she liked.
She wanted the cold water and the silence. She did not check the path behind her as carefully as she should have.
Bor had been watching her for days.
Not the open, measuring watch of a man counting loyalty.
Something older and more private.
The River woman’s lean body, the scars that mapped survival instead of decoration, the way she moved like someone who had already decided the world was a blade and had adjusted her grip accordingly it had sat under his skin since the window near the secondary fires, and the days since had only made it worse.
~~~~
He told himself he was walking the lower path because the night pairs required it.
He told himself the limp was the only reason his pace had slowed when she passed.
He was lying to himself and he knew it.
When she turned toward the fold, he followed at a distance.
The washing pool was a shallow basin of dark stone, waist-deep at the center, fed by the spring and drained by a crack that kept the water moving.
Sura set her spear against the rock, untied the hide top, and let it fall.
The skirt followed.
She stepped into the water without hesitation, the cold pulling a short, sharp breath from her lungs, and began to wash with the same efficient motions she used on everything else arms, shoulders, the long scar across her ribs, the stronger muscles of her thighs.
Lamp light from a single niche caught the water on her skin and the dark coil of her hair when she unbound it and let it fall.
Bor stopped in the shadow of the entrance fold and could not make himself leave.
He lasted less than a minute before his hand was on his cock.
He stroked himself in the dark, eyes fixed on the lean lines of her body, the way the water ran between her breasts, the matter of fact way she cleaned the places most people pretended not to look at.
The hunger that had been sitting in him since the secondary fires climbed fast and mean.
He worked himself harder, jaw locked, breathing through his nose so the sound would not carry.
The cold of the stone at his back did nothing to cool it.
Five minutes maybe less and the pressure broke.
He came with a rough, involuntary shout that echoed off the rock before he could strangle it, thick pulses spilling over his fist and onto the stone at his feet.
The water stopped moving.
Sura turned her head.
Her eyes found the shadow where he stood.
For a single breath neither of them moved.
Then she was out of the pool, spear in hand, and on him before he had finished binding himself back into his leather.
She slammed him back against the rock hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. The spear point stopped just under his chin.
"You absolute fool," she said, voice low and lethal. "The night pairs are forming.
~~~~
Anyone could have walked this path.
Anyone could have seen the Matron’s center-post survivor with his cock in his hand and my name in his mouth."
Bor’s chest heaved
. The shame and the hunger were still tangled in his face.
"I didn’t"
"Don’t!" Sura’s eyes were flat and bright. She lowered the spear, grabbed him by the front of his leather, and dragged him into the fold toward the pool.
"You don’t get to finish that sentence in the open. Inside... Now."
She shoved him into the narrow space beside the water, pulled the hide screen across the entrance, and turned on him with the same focused intensity she brought to a fight.
"You want it that badly?" she said.
"Then you get it here, where the sound doesn’t travel, and you listen when I talk. Sit."
Bor sat on the low stone shelf.
His cock was still half-hard, slick from his own spend.
Sura looked at it, then at his face, and something sharp and deciding moved through her expression.
She dropped to her knees between his thighs, shoved his leather fully aside, and took him into her mouth in one deep, claiming slide.
She did not ease him in.
She sucked him hard and wet and thorough throat working around the head, tongue pressing along the underside, one hand stroking and milking the base while the other braced on his thigh.
The wet, filthy sounds of it filled the small space.
Bor’s head fell back against the rock.
A broken sound left his chest.
Sura pulled off just far enough to speak, spit connecting her lips to his cock.
"You watched me.
You stroked yourself like a man who had never learned control.
Now you keep your voice down and you tell me how it feels while I clean up the mess you made."
She sucked him had again, moaning low around his length, the vibration tearing another rough sound out of him.
She sucked him with open, nasty hunger long, wet strokes that took him to the root and held, spit running down his shaft, her free hand cupping and squeezing his stones in time with the bob of her head.
When he throbbed hard against her tongue she only took him deeper.
~~~~
"Fuck Sura"
"Sexy, Talk," she ordered, pulling off for a breath.
"I want to hear what the center post sounds like when it’s begging."
"Your mouth" His voice was wrecked. "Fuck... I’m not going to last if you keep..."
"You last until I say, sexy"
She sucked him harder, faster, the wet gagging sounds deliberate and filthy.
When his thighs started to shake she squeezed the base of his cock firmly and held him there, denying the edge, then released and took him all the way into her throat again.
She worked him like that until he was dripping and cursing and close enough to break then she pulled off, stroked him once with a tight, milking fist, and watched him come a second time with a strangled shout, thick ropes pulsing across her tongue and lips and chin.
She swallowed what was in her mouth.
Then she licked the rest from her lips with deliberate calm, looked up at him, and said, "On your feet. Against the wall....
I’m not finished."
Bor stood.
His legs were not entirely steady.
Sura turned, braced her hands on the wet stone, and looked back over her shoulder.
"Inside me.... If you’re going to risk the path for a look, you can risk your hips for the rest."
He gripped her lean hips and drove into her in one heavy thrust.
The heat of her pulled a raw sound from both of them.
She was wet from the water and from whatever the watching and the sucking had done to her.
He fucked her with deep, aggressive strokes, the angle letting him go hard, the wet slap of skin echoing off the stone.
Sura pushed back to meet every thrust, the careful fighter’s control stripped down to something hungry and exact.
"More make it harder...." she demanded, voice low and rough.
"I can take more than a quiet stroke in the dark. Give it to me!"
Bor gave it to her.
He fucked her with the accumulated weight of days of watching and wanting short, punishing strokes that forced continuous sounds from her throat.
~~~~
One of his hands left her hip and reached around to rub her clit in tight, rough circles. Sura’s head dropped forward.
A raw, shaking moan left her.
"Urgh.... Sexy... fuck just like that.
Sexy.... tell me how long you’ve been thinking about this."
"Since the secondary fires," Bor growled against her ear.
"Since you walked away like it cost you nothing.
I’ve thought about this cunt every night on the lower path.
About bending you over and making you feel it..."
"Then make me feel it, sexy"
She shoved back harder. "Urgh... Use me!
I want to remember this when Elka asks why my pace is off."
He fucked her harder... with no stoping.
The wet, violent sound of their bodies filled the fold.
Sura came immaculately....
Bor lasted only a few more strokes before he buried himself deep and came with a guttural sound, flooding her while she pushed back to take every drop.
They stayed locked together afterward, breathing ragged, the cold air of the spring and the heat of their bodies tangled in the small space.
Sura’s forehead rested against the wet stone.
Bor’s hand stayed on her hip, fingers pressed into the marks he had left.
When she finally spoke, her voice was rough but steady.
"You ever do that on an open path again and I will put the spear somewhere you won’t recover from.
This stays here.
The lower fires don’t hear about it.
The Matron doesn’t hear about it.
You needed it. You got it.... That’s the end of the accounting."
Bor’s voice was quiet.
"And if I need it again?"
Sura pulled off him slowly, the wet evidence of the claim slipping down the inside of her thigh.
~~~~
She stepped back into the pool, rinsed herself with the same efficient motions she had used before he arrived, and only then looked at him.
"Then you find a better way to ask... sexy, don’t beat your cock, and hiding in the dark like a boy who has never held a line."
She bound her hair, pulled on her skirt and top, and picked up her spear.
"The night pairs are still forming....
Get back on your path before someone counts the time you’ve been gone."
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