of the blue after all. At least for her part, Cora knew the attraction had been there the second she saw the guardian walk into the room in Gomor. It was very clear that Brocke felt the same way about her, so who said they couldn't do what they both obviously wanted?
The Corgan mead did pack a good punch, but Cora knew it really had nothing to do with her decision to let Brocke lead her to the couch and pull her into his arms.
Somehow, Cora still had the mug of mead in her hand. She sat on Brocke's wide lap, straddling his powerful thighs, gazing down at him as her head spun.
Brocke's hands were slowly running up Cora's legs, coming to push her uniform shirt out of the way. Feeling his warm hands on her skin was enough to bring the first quiet moan over her lips. Cora turned around and put the mead on the table behind them.
"I think I’ve had enough," she said, looking at Brocke again. "I have a feeling I want to remember this."
Getting ahead of ourselves, are we? her mind pitched in. So this is what the mead does. Removes the filter between the brain and the tongue.
Cora thought her inner voice wasn't keeping up to date with what was happening, because the look in Brocke's eyes told her without a shadow of a doubt they were on the same page. The guardian wasn't going to stop and Cora didn't want him to.
Brocke pulled her shirt over her head, a low, appreciative groan coming over his lips as he looked at Cora. She saw the way his eyes traveled over her half-naked body, loved the the guardian's fingers tugged at the straps of her bra.
"One sip was already impressive," Brocke said, musing. "I've seen grown men gag over less."
"You tricked me," Cora said, swapping his hands away playfully despite the fact she wanted those amazing fingers everywhere on her body.
"You knew I couldn't finish the drink."
"I wanted to see how far you would get," Brocke admitted. "Your friend has a weird sense of humor, I must say."
Cora was about to say something further, but when Brocke kissed her again, it swept everything and everyone but him out of her mind.
The guardian wrapped his hands around her, pulling Cora against him. Brocke's lips were demanding and hungry on hers, their tongues battling each other. The dark armor was cold against Cora's bare skin, in sharp contrast to how warm Brocke's lips were, drinking in her moans as he groped her.
Brocke ripped off her bra and Cora bit his lip in answer, pulling back with a teasing grin.
She saw the way Brocke's eyes took in her naked form, the flame burning in his eyes growing only brighter. Since the moment they sat down, Brocke hadn't taken his hands off her for a second, running them over every inch of Cora's body.
"I want to see you," Cora said, hearing her voice shake a little. "Let me touch you."
"Get on the bed," Brocke ordered in return.
Cora obeyed, her heart beating so fast she thought it would burst. She got up, backing away towards her bedroom, watching the guardian follow her with a predatory prowl, a feral grin on his lips. It was like he was on the hunt and Cora was the prey.
She had no objections to that. Every step Brocke took, he unhooked the clasps of his armor, letting them fall to the floor unceremoniously. It sent pleasant shivers down Cora's spine, to see how little he cared about the precious armor when compared to how much he clearly wanted her.
Inch by inch, the warlord's impressive body was revealed from under the dark metal covering it. At some point, Cora forgot to stop moving and simply stood, staring.
Brocke was magnificent. His body was like a temple to physical perfection, tanned skin pulled taut over ripped muscles bulging with the slightest movement. Brocke had seemed intimidatingly huge to her before, but now Cora saw his size hadn't merely been an illusion created by the armor.
She didn't think she could wrap her hands around his biceps, even less around his chest. He was picture perfect in a way that almost defied nature.
Cora caught
The Corgan mead did pack a good punch, but Cora knew it really had nothing to do with her decision to let Brocke lead her to the couch and pull her into his arms.
Somehow, Cora still had the mug of mead in her hand. She sat on Brocke's wide lap, straddling his powerful thighs, gazing down at him as her head spun.
Brocke's hands were slowly running up Cora's legs, coming to push her uniform shirt out of the way. Feeling his warm hands on her skin was enough to bring the first quiet moan over her lips. Cora turned around and put the mead on the table behind them.
"I think I’ve had enough," she said, looking at Brocke again. "I have a feeling I want to remember this."
Getting ahead of ourselves, are we? her mind pitched in. So this is what the mead does. Removes the filter between the brain and the tongue.
Cora thought her inner voice wasn't keeping up to date with what was happening, because the look in Brocke's eyes told her without a shadow of a doubt they were on the same page. The guardian wasn't going to stop and Cora didn't want him to.
Brocke pulled her shirt over her head, a low, appreciative groan coming over his lips as he looked at Cora. She saw the way his eyes traveled over her half-naked body, loved the the guardian's fingers tugged at the straps of her bra.
"One sip was already impressive," Brocke said, musing. "I've seen grown men gag over less."
"You tricked me," Cora said, swapping his hands away playfully despite the fact she wanted those amazing fingers everywhere on her body.
"You knew I couldn't finish the drink."
"I wanted to see how far you would get," Brocke admitted. "Your friend has a weird sense of humor, I must say."
Cora was about to say something further, but when Brocke kissed her again, it swept everything and everyone but him out of her mind.
The guardian wrapped his hands around her, pulling Cora against him. Brocke's lips were demanding and hungry on hers, their tongues battling each other. The dark armor was cold against Cora's bare skin, in sharp contrast to how warm Brocke's lips were, drinking in her moans as he groped her.
Brocke ripped off her bra and Cora bit his lip in answer, pulling back with a teasing grin.
She saw the way Brocke's eyes took in her naked form, the flame burning in his eyes growing only brighter. Since the moment they sat down, Brocke hadn't taken his hands off her for a second, running them over every inch of Cora's body.
"I want to see you," Cora said, hearing her voice shake a little. "Let me touch you."
"Get on the bed," Brocke ordered in return.
Cora obeyed, her heart beating so fast she thought it would burst. She got up, backing away towards her bedroom, watching the guardian follow her with a predatory prowl, a feral grin on his lips. It was like he was on the hunt and Cora was the prey.
She had no objections to that. Every step Brocke took, he unhooked the clasps of his armor, letting them fall to the floor unceremoniously. It sent pleasant shivers down Cora's spine, to see how little he cared about the precious armor when compared to how much he clearly wanted her.
Inch by inch, the warlord's impressive body was revealed from under the dark metal covering it. At some point, Cora forgot to stop moving and simply stood, staring.
Brocke was magnificent. His body was like a temple to physical perfection, tanned skin pulled taut over ripped muscles bulging with the slightest movement. Brocke had seemed intimidatingly huge to her before, but now Cora saw his size hadn't merely been an illusion created by the armor.
She didn't think she could wrap her hands around his biceps, even less around his chest. He was picture perfect in a way that almost defied nature.
Cora caught
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